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plutotheplum · 7 months ago

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Keep My Hand in Yours

emperor!zayne x concubine!reader - read part 1!

summary: the emperor is intent on convincing you that you are worthy enough to be his empress.

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, smut, fluff, oral sex, vaginal fingering, p in v, praise kink, throne sex, spanking

wc: 6.9k

a/n: part 2 is finally here! thank you for all the sweet comments, i cherish them all!! <3 umm... i do plan on adding some more parts to this series... so yeah, i hope you enjoy! :)

also on ao3!

“She is not with child.”

Zayne’s stern voice cuts through the chatter of his advisors, his fingers tapping against the arm of his throne irritatedly. The drone of voices silences, his advisors lowering their heads in respect.

You stand off to the side, playing with the sleeves of your robes nervously. Perhaps you’d been a little naive to think the advisors would have been accepting of your blossoming relationship with the Emperor.

Word had spread throughout the palace, and most likely throughout the entire Empire about the new developments that had taken place overnight. The guards had heard you of course, their eyes averted and cheeks flushed pink when Zayne had held your hand and led you out of his chambers.

An unforeseen turn in events, and you had somehow excelled past the advisors’ expectations, garnering the Emperor’s affection for you. Whilst a small number of the Emperor’s advisors were pleased, the majority were not. Standing before them, you can see the disdain on their faces, the hatred that belies their thin smiles. Jealousy is above all however, for their own daughters were once placed forth as noble matches for the Emperor.

You jolt out of your thoughts when an Imperial guard takes your arm, moving you to stand before the Emperor. Zayne looks down at you, and you can spy the slight softening of his eyes as he watches you bow to him.

“As I have said,” Zayne repeats, “she is not with child.”

“Forgive me, your majesty,” a voice speaks out from behind you, “how can she not be with child? We- we have heard of what occurred.”

Zayne motions for you to spin around, and you do as he wants. You now face his entire court, advisors gathered in hours of the early morning. It was the grand chancellor who spoke, a tall man, his face gaunt. You remember he had served Zayne’s father before he had passed.

“We are both not ready for children,” Zayne explains, “I had the palace physician brew a tea under my command.”

It was true. You had both spoken about the matter, and you simply could not handle carrying a child so soon. Zayne had agreed, snuck you out through the passages in the middle of the night, and had taken you to the palace physician. The brewing of such teas was not unheard of, but certainly not an accepted occurrence, although perhaps more commonly used among the nobility.

“I see…” the grand chancellor says slowly, his gaze fixating on you.

You want to shrink away, somehow hide behind the safety of the Emperor, but you cannot. Instead, you shift on the spot, averting your gaze to the floor as though you were not the very object of interest of this gathering.

“And you intend to continue this foolish endeavor?”

Your head snaps up at the harsh words, gaze settling on the new voice that had spoken out. A lower ranking official judging by the coloring of his robes, his eyes narrowing as he stares at you.

“It appears you forget yourself,” the Emperor replies coolly.

“Or perhaps you forget yourself, your majesty,” the official spits, stepping forward, “you would ruin the image of your rule to marry some… some lowly concubine?”

The murmurs of the other members of court are hard to ignore, hushed whispers breaking out at the official’s blatant show of disrespect towards the Emperor.

“And was it not this very court that decided to gather concubines without my knowledge?”

“For child bearing!” the official hisses, pointing his finger towards you accusingly, “not for marriage!”

You swallow harshly at the viciousness of his words, biting back the insults that threaten to spill out. Retaliation in such a meeting would only support the official’s cause.

“She will be your Empress,” Zayne says calmly, “if you seek to insult my future wife yet again, I will have you removed immediately.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks when he affirms that you’ll be his wife. It may not be the best time, but the light flush covers your cheeks and you try to stop the pull of your lips, a smile threatening to spread across your face.

“If you think I- we will stand for such insolence, you are sorely mistaken, your majesty” the official snarls.

A bitter laugh echoes through the throne room.

“Be grateful that I am not my father,” Zayne murmurs, “for he would have had your head. Remove your seal.”

The official sputters, looking around at the rest of the court members wildly. Most avoid his eyes, others unconsciously touching their own seals through the fabric of their robes.

You flinch when the official removes his Imperial seal angrily, tossing the little silver square at your feet.

“You have poisoned his mind,” he accuses heatedly, face reddened from his outburst, “and you should do well to remember your station.”

Irritation pricks at your skin, your teeth gritting together. You were well aware of your station, of your status and how you’re perceived. The incessant reminders aren’t doing well to calm your frayed nerves, brows pulling together as you glare at the official.

“Bow to her.”

The rules of nobility have been set in place for longer than you could possibly know, and yet Zayne seems insistent on breaking them. It’s bold, even for him, to demand such a thing. You turn, shooting him a look, subtly shaking your head. There’s a hint of a smile on the Emperor’s face, as though enjoying this confrontation.

“I- I will do no such thing!” the official protests.

“You have already lost your seal and your position and you still will not do as I say?” Zayne murmurs, leaning forward in his throne.

You watch with wide eyes when the official does bow to you, the upper half of his body lowering. Another round of hushed whispers passes through the room, and you can feel the grand chancellor’s eyes boring into you. His authority was only second to the Emperor, the only man who held a real chance of changing Zayne’s mind.

“Good,” Zayne says, leaning back on his throne, “now leave us.”

The throne room clears out immediately, until you’re the only one remaining. You smile at him, stepping between his legs until you’re standing in front of him.

“I did not take you for a tyrant,” you tease, brushing his hair out of his face.

“And I did not know that protecting my future wife made me a tyrant,” Zayne muses, his arms wrapping around your waist.

He tugs you closer, his head falling forward to rest against your stomach, face burying itself in your robes. A soft sigh leaves you, fingers running through his loose hair, scratching at his scalp lightly.

“Tired?” you ask, arm wrapping around his neck.

The Emperor nods against your stomach, trying to press his face deeper. A laugh escapes you at his needy behavior, your hand managing to cup his jaw to bring him out of his hiding place.

“The affairs of state have become bothersome,” Zayne says, peering up at you.

“Oh? You did not seem to mind before.”

“Playing coy?” Zayne smiles faintly, tugging you forward until you stumble and land on his lap.

“Hardly,” you whisper, pressing yourself closer as your hands curl into his robes.

The Emperor leans back on his throne, his hands kneading at your hips. You chase after him, eyes fluttering shut as you press your lips against his. Zayne lets out a low noise, drawing you closer, his hand sliding up your back as you kiss. The memory from last night is still fresh, the feeling of his hands on your body ingrained in your mind.

“I cannot have enough of you,” he whispers, lips brushing over yours.

“You- you ought to rest,” you gasp, tilting your head to let him kiss down the length of your neck.

Zayne kisses your sternum, and back up your neck before he sighs and tucks his face into the crook of your neck. You hold him close, hand smoothing over his hair gently.

“I have made things difficult for you,” you say quietly.

He shakes his head, squeezing your waist reassuringly.

“I have become complacent,” he murmurs, “simply letting others do as they please.”

You kiss his forehead when he lifts his head, brushing your thumbs over his cheeks. Exhaustion mars the Emperor’s face, his eyes looking sunken and dull. The sudden gathering of his court appears to have drained his energy.

“I shall have to gather them again,” Zayne says, “the trade agreements need attention.”

A smile settles on your face when he kisses your cheeks gently, his hands petting your sides. You move off of his lap, standing up with him reluctantly. Reaching out, you fix his hair and his robes that you had held onto earlier.

“Finish, then retire to your chambers to rest,” you instruct, patting his chest.

Zayne laughs, his head dipping down to kiss you. You return the kiss eagerly, pulling apart with a few sweet, little pecks to his lips.

“You are already acting like a doting wife,” he whispers.

You flush when he says that, looking away. It’s still hard to get over the fact that Zayne, the Emperor, wants to marry you of all people. The thought of it all makes your palms sweaty, cheeks hot and heart race. There’s a whirlwind upon you, Zayne, tearing apart your preconceived notions of the Empire.

“I want to dote on you.”

The words tumble from your lips, soft and vulnerable. You’ve never felt this way about a man, never had a man pay attention to you, never been touched by a man before him. It’s as though the Emperor’s expressions are always tender in the way he gazes at you. You’ve never known what it’s like to be in love, but if it’s like this, so startlingly soft and sickeningly sweet, you fear you may be lost in him forever.

“I- I just meant-” you begin to correct yourself, fidgeting with your robes.

“I know what you meant,” Zayne says softly, his hands finding yours.

Your breath catches in your throat when he lifts your hands to his mouth, his thumbs running over your skin soothingly. Zayne keeps his eyes on you as he kisses across your knuckles, squeezing your hands gently after.

“I said I take care of what’s mine,” he continues, drawing you close, “and you are mine now.”

You nod jerkily, shoving your face into his chest. The Emperor hums, stroking your hair slowly. Unfortunately, you don’t get to bask in his embrace for any longer, a guard announcing the arrival of a messenger.

“Rest,” you remind him, planting a soft kiss on his cheek.

Zayne nods, squeezing your waist before allowing you to draw away.

The other girls crowd around you immediately when you enter your chambers, their expressions sly and knowing as they tug you towards the middle of the room, soft giggles filling the air.

“Well?” one of them asks, eyes wide with curiosity.

“Well what?” you ask, feigning innocence.

A chorus of complaints breaks out.

“Stop being shy!”

“We tell you our stories!”

“You must tell us!”

One of the girls reaches for you, her arm hooking with yours. She leans down, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispers conspiratorially.

“Was the Emperor well-endowed?”

“Oh, stop it!”

The grand chancellor has been lurking in the hallways.

You’d noticed the tall man when you had left to make some tea, but after a considerable amount of time, he was still there. The cold breeze outside should’ve been enough to deter him, but you’ve figured he must be intent on speaking to you.

To be frank, you aren’t in the mood for another confrontation just days later from the disastrous court meeting that had occurred. It’s why you hold your breath as you sneak out from your chambers, feet padding against the floor lightly as you try to slip past the grand chancellor’s turned back.

“Will you avoid me for much longer?” he calls out.

You wince, halting in place. The grand chancellor cannot be avoided forever, you suppose.

“Come along,” he says, his fingers motioning for you to follow him.

You do as he says begrudgingly, following after the grand chancellor. To your surprise, he leads you into the gardens rather than a private room. Snow is yet to fall today, autumn soon drawing to a close in a few weeks. You wipe the fallen leaves that have landed on a nearby bench, sitting down after the grand chancellor does.

It’s suffocatingly awkward, your fingers playing with each other agitatedly as he simply sits next to you, looking out at the plants and trees that make up the gardens. You realize it would be a foolish idea to let your guard down around him. The grand chancellor hadn’t reprimanded Zayne during that meeting and yet you remember the way he had been staring at you. His intentions are hard to discern, his loyalties to the Emperor and the Emperor alone.

“Much like his father, his majesty is stubborn,” the grand chancellor says, “I have had the pleasure of knowing both men since they were children.”

“I see,” you murmur, peeking a glance at him.

You don’t know why he’s telling you this, half-expecting the man to begin berating you for becoming so close to Zayne.

“I shall be frank,” he sighs, turning to face you, “I did not expect the Emperor to become so… enamored by you.”

“I did not expect it either,” you grumble defensively.

“His majesty is an intelligent man. He knows of the consequences and yet seems intent on taking you to wed.”

“Consequences?” you echo.

“Political alliances are frail,” he explains, picking up a fallen leaf and examining it, “marriage is the easiest way to prevent a war between regions.”

“We have not been at war for years!” you protest, shaking your head.

“And we will not be for many more,” the grand chancellor assures you, “I am simply warning you of what may come when you are Empress.”

You don’t understand the politics of the Empire, have never been privy to such things. The grand chancellor only adds to the confusion and uncertainty that has been brewing inside your mind.

“I thought you would dissuade him,” you say quietly.

“The boy deserves happiness,” the grand chancellor murmurs, standing up, “if he wishes to be with you, then I will allow it.” He peers down at you, his lips thinning. “Take caution, child. Envy drives men to madness. The nobility may hide behind their bloodlines, but a cesspool festers within.”

The grand chancellor hands you the withered leaf.

“Loyalties change as the seasons do.”

A week later, the Emperor finds you in the gardens, sitting under a tree.

“You have not come to see me,” Zayne says, sitting down beside you.

“I did not want to trouble you,” you reply.

You reach for his hand, lacing your fingers with his. The Emperor’s fingers are stained with ink, streaks of black covering his pale skin. Zayne’s arm wraps around your waist, pulling you flush against his side.

“The grand chancellor is worried.”

“I surmised as much,” the Emperor sighs, his fingers playing with your robes.

You peer up at him, and Zayne leans down, dropping a kiss to your forehead. There’s a part of you that can’t help but feel you’re putting him in a position that he normally wouldn’t be in if he had simply chosen to marry someone of higher status.

“Do you truly wish to marry me?” you ask quietly, averting your gaze.

“Have I told you otherwise?” Zayne asks in return, his fingers gripping your chin to turn your head so that your eyes meet his again.

The tenderness in his eyes is overwhelming. You feel as though you’re drowning, swallowed up by his irises and his honest gaze. Things would’ve been far simpler if he were someone less important, but you can’t imagine Zayne being anything other than the Emperor, for it would be a disservice to the Empire.

You shift, standing up before settling your hands on his broad shoulders, straddling him as you climb up onto his lap. It’s improper to act so brazenly, but you’ve done far more improper things with him, acted far more brazenly in his presence. The Emperor grunts as you settle yourself on his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer.

“I am not fit to be your Empress,” you whisper.

Zayne doesn’t say anything for a moment, his hand simply rubbing up and down your back soothingly. Your throat is tight and you can feel your lips trembling. You don’t want to cry, but you can’t help it when a sniffle escapes you.

“And you think I am fit to be Emperor?” he whispers, “I am only here because of my father and his father before him and so on.”

“But you are the Emperor,” you insist, voice quavering, “I could not possibly-”

“Forget about nonsensical titles,” Zayne murmurs, his hands cupping your cheeks as his thumbs wipe away the hot tears that have begun to roll down your cheeks, “I meant every word I said that night.”

“B- but-”

“But nothing,” the Emperor soothes, staring into your eyes intently, “I would sooner have no one than not have you.”

“You are the worst,” you say tearily, pushing at his chest weakly.

“Ah, I am sure,” he says, a small smile spreading across his face.

The Emperor cradles your head, tilting it to his will as he kisses away the fresh tears that wet your cheeks. He doesn’t stop there, his lips dragging over your skin gently. The Emperor kisses your brows, your closed eyelids, the tip of your nose, every inch of your face that is bared to him.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

You kiss him gently and Zayne smooths his thumbs over your cheeks, deepening the kiss as he presses his lips against yours firmly. A soft whine leaves you, letting his tongue lick over the seam of your lips before he licks into your mouth, tongue delving deep. The Emperor kisses you as though trying to convince you of his words, as though to make you stay.

“I want to show you something,” Zayne says, his forehead pressing against yours. You nod, moving to stand up. Zayne doesn’t let you, instead hauling you up into his arms and standing up. A surprised squeak bubbles out of you when you realize the Emperor is carrying you.

“Zayne!” you protest, “Zayne, people will see!”

Zayne only tightens his grip when you begin to squirm, brushing a kiss to your forehead to calm your ministrations.

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, people do see. You try to shrink in his grasp, pressing yourself into his chest as the palace staff pause their duties to watch with wide eyes as the Emperor carries you out of the gardens. Some are unable to stop their jaws from slackening, others beginning to point and whisper amongst themselves.

The Emperor hardly bats an eye, his stride strong and purposeful as he carries you through the hallways and courtyards. It’s a statement in and of itself.

You spy the smirk on an Imperial guard’s face when he opens up the doors to the throne room, your eyes narrowing when the man sends you a wink. The doors slam shut with a resounding thud, leaving only you and Zayne inside.

“Zayne- Zayne, no!” you hiss, hands scrabbling at his shoulders when you realize what he’s doing.

Your legs kick out, trying to somehow climb up the Emperor’s tall frame. It’s futile against his strength, his hands manhandling you until he sets you down on his throne. If he doesn’t punish you for it, you fear the Heavens will.

“Stay,” the Emperor says, pushing at your shoulders when you try to shoot up from where you’re sitting, “I command it.”

You sit in place rigidly, back straight. There are centuries of history that make up this throne, and you can’t help but feel that you are somehow dishonoring it all by sitting here.

“What are you-” your brows furrowing when he suddenly begins to bend.

Fingers digging into the arms of the throne, you feel as though you might faint as you watch the Emperor bow to you before sinking to his knees. Zayne stares up at you expectantly, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

“G- get up!” you whisper heatedly.

There’s no one here, but you can only imagine the severity of the consequences if someone were to stumble in here and find the Emperor on his knees for you.

“Command it,” he says, looking perfectly content in his current position.

“No one can command the Emperor!”

“I will not move unless you exert your authority,” Zayne says simply.

Your eye twitches at his insistence, at his own brazenness.

“Say it,” he coaxes gently, “say it and I will stand.”

“I-” your breath catches in your throat awkwardly. You flush when Zayne nods his head encouragingly, your voice breathy when you begin to speak again. “I c-command you to stand.”

“Very good,” he murmurs, standing up and moving towards you.

Zayne smiles at you, his head dipping to crash his lips onto yours, his hands braced on the arms of his throne. You gasp, arms wrapping around his neck as he kisses you fiercely. The Emperor continues his onslaught of kisses, dragging his lips down your neck as his fingers pull free the knot holding your robes together.

“You think your station determines your worth,” Zayne whispers, his teeth scraping your shoulder, “but this- you are worth more to me than the finest jade.”

“Stop,” you whisper, eyes slipping shut, “you must stop speaking like that. It does awful things to my heart.”

He laughs softly, kissing between your breasts. You bite your lip as his mouth envelops your breast, his tongue swirling around your nipple. His teeth catch on it, tugging playfully before letting it pop free as he switches breasts. You run your fingers through his long hair, head tipping back against the throne as your body convulses.

The Emperor holds you in place, letting his tongue lave over your areola, his half-lidded eyes peering up at you to catch your reactions. You give him a weak smile and Zayne moans around your breast, his hand squeezing at the fat of your other breast.

Your dazed eyes watch as he kisses down your body, kissing your hip then your navel. He sinks to his knees once again, and you can’t find it in yourself to reprimand him, lost in the haze of lust and love. Zayne kisses the curls of hair on your mound, his hands gripping your calves to help guide your legs over his shoulders.

“I have missed this,” he whispers, his thumbs pulling apart your folds.

“As have I,” you sigh.

You moan when Zayne licks up a stripe over your cunt, collecting your arousal on his tongue. He rests his cheek against your thigh, watching intently as your aching hole clenches around nothing, watching as more slick drips from you.

“Stop staring,” you mumble, pushing at his head gently.

“I enjoy the sight,” he says in return.

Your thighs twitch when he pushes the hood of your clit up a little more, exposing the swollen bud. Zayne groans, kissing the inside of your thigh firmly before licking over your cunt again. A strangled gasp rips out of your throat, hands tightening in his hair as he sucks your clit into his mouth.

“Z- Zayne- ah- hah!”

A soft whimper escapes when he kisses your clit, his fingers dimpling into the flesh of your thighs harshly. Zayne pulls you to the edge of the throne, his face burying deeper as he groans again, drinking down your slick.

You squeal when he fucks his tongue into you, body shaking uncontrollably as you fist his hair tighter. He hisses against your cunt, renewing his efforts. You can feel his mouth opening wider, trying to consume you whole, licking and sucking desperately at every inch of velvety, sensitive flesh he can reach.

His nose rubs against your clit, and you’re seeing stars. The Emperor makes an obscene noise and you can feel his tongue moving inside of you, the feeling making your thighs clamp around his head.

“Have- have you ever put your fingers inside of yourself?” he asks, raising his head.

You shake your head, watching as his fingers stroke over your clit lovingly, his mouth pressing open-mouthed kisses to your knee.

“May I?” the Emperor whispers, his finger prodding at your hole.

You give him a jerky nod, legs falling apart a little more for him. He smiles up at you, his finger sinking into you slowly. You whimper at the sensation, clenching around his finger. Zayne adds another soon after, and you’re panting desperately, hips bucking as he curls them inside of you.

“The scroll said to do something like this,” he mutters under his breath.

“You- oh- you read a scroll?” you grit out.

“It was quite informative,” Zayne murmurs, beginning to move his fingers.

“Why must you be so- ah!”

You don’t get to finish your sentence, your knuckles turning white as you grip the throne for stability as he latches his mouth back onto your clit, his fingers thrusting in and out of you. The heat inside your stomach grows more intense with each flick of his tongue, his teeth scraping against your sensitive flesh for good measure.

Moans have begun to fill the air, and you can’t find it in yourself to care anymore, letting go completely. You guide his head to where you want him, toes curling against his back, crumpling his silk robes. Zayne’s mouth works with his fingers diligently, his fingers crooking up a little more to graze the spot where you need it most.

You peek down to see the pink flush on his cheeks and your back arches, his name leaving your mouth in a cry as you come on his fingers and his tongue. The Emperor moans as you writhe, his fingers moving in and out of you a couple more times before freeing them from your clenching walls.

Chest heaving, you pant, slumping back in the throne as he kisses across your puffy folds and sensitive cunt. Your thighs twitch a little when he peppers soft, little kisses against your clit and you can’t help but think the man has an obsession with its ability to bring you such pleasure.

The Emperor kisses up your body and you cup his jaw, kissing him sweetly.

“I fear this throne may be ruined,” you whisper against his lips.

He laughs, his nose nudging yours gently, “I recall promising to take you on it.”

“Before that,” you stand up on shaky legs, pushing at his chest until he sits back on his throne.

Adoration glimmers in his eyes, watching as your loose robes slip from your shoulders, pooling at your feet. You stand bare before the Emperor, and you catch the slight spreading of his thighs to relieve the ache of his cock.

This time it’s you that’s sinking to your knees, pulling his robes free. The muscles of his abdomen clench when you run your fingers down his chest, his hand coming up to cover his flushed face.

“Why are you shy now?” you accuse, pouting up at him.

His thighs twitch when you curl your hand around his cock and you can feel the throb of his fat, hot length.

“You do not have to-” he whispers when he sees your head dip.

“I want to,” you say stubbornly.

Zayne nods in acquiescence, moaning when you begin to drag your hand up and down his cock. It’s a little intimidating when you stare at it up close, but you swallow down your worries, leaning forward to kiss the tip experimentally.

His cock twitches in response, pre-cum beading at the tip. Your tongue darts out, licking up the little glob, feeling the taste of him spread across your tongue.

“Zayne,” you whisper, breath fanning over his cock, “Zayne, you must watch me.”

The Emperor groans at your lilting voice, his eyes opening the moment your mouth envelops him. His hips buck and you nearly seize up at the feeling of the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat. You mewl around him, breathing through your nose, tongue swirling before your head begins to bob up and down.

“Fuck,” Zayne hisses, his fingers spreading across your scalp, “my love, you are devious.”

You hum in response, pulling off of his cock in favor of giving more attention to the tip of it. You swirl your tongue, tongue flicking at the flared head and it’s enough to make Zayne whine, his thighs spreading wider for you.

“Can you take it deeper?” he asks, his fingers trailing down the curve of your cheek.

“I shall try,” you murmur, mouth opening for him.

He hooks his thumb into the corner of his mouth, cupping your chin before his thumb spreads over the flat of your tongue. You smile, eyes flashing with mischievousness as you suck his thumb into your mouth, tongue flicking against the pad of it.

Zayne shoots you a searing look and you watch as he grips the base of his cock. He drags the tip of his cock against your closed lips, entranced as he watches his pre-cum smears across your lips. His other hand presses at the back of your head and your mouth opens again, letting him guide his cock into your mouth.

“Just like that,” he whispers, “good girl.”

You can feel arousal shooting through you at the praise, slick pooling between your thighs yet again. The ache is so unbearable that you shove your hand between your thighs, rubbing at your clit.

The Emperor pushes your head gently and you go willingly, slurping and sucking around his thick cock. Saliva drips from your mouth, coating his cock and his balls, strings of it landing on the edge of his throne. You rub at your clit faster, eyes fluttering as he brushes your loose hair away from your face.

“A- ah,” Zayne rasps, “hah- my love.”

The term of endearment is enough to have you taking it upon yourself to sink down his cock even more. The tufts of his black hair hit your nose for a moment, but you’re inexperienced and you’ve overestimated your own abilities. The feeling of his cock filling your throat is too much, and you choke, throat seizing, causing you to pull off with a hoarse cough as your eyes water.

Concern flits across Zayne’s face, his thumb swiping over your swollen lips. You give him a watery smile, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. He sighs in relief when he sees you’re okay, leaning forward to place a tender kiss to your lips.

“So willful,” the Emperor murmurs.

He slides his hands under your armpits, picking you up and setting you down on his lap.

“I can do it again,” you mumble, gaze lowering to see his cock pressed between your bodies.

Zayne smiles, petting at your sides, “as much as I enjoyed the feeling, I cannot have my darling choking on my cock.”

“I was not choking,” you whine, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

“If you insist,” Zayne soothes, “but when we are married, I will have many more opportunities to watch you swallow my cock.”

The Emperor’s constant promise of marriage has your heart lurching and you lean forward, crushing your lips against his. He grunts in surprise at your sudden action but returns the kiss just as eagerly, squeezing at your hips.

You whine into his mouth, his hair tickling your skin as he presses forward, his hips rolling up into yours. You can feel his hard cock between your thighs, the length dragging between your folds.

Zayne groans at the sensation, his head falling back and you take the opportunity to kiss down his neck, rolling your hips wantonly, your nails digging into his broad shoulders.

“Who are you?” he whispers, groping the fat of your ass.

“W- what?” you pull back, confusion spreading across your face.

The Emperor guides your hips to continue moving, your folds hugging his cock as you grind against it.

“Who are you?” Zayne asks again, “your title, what is it?”

Pleasure has made your mind hazy, and you can’t discern whether he’s playing a game of some sort with his questions, or whether he’s suffering from some sort of untimely amnesia.

“Your concubine,” you reply, “I thought-”

You jolt in his arms when he suddenly lands a heavy spank to your ass, his eyes narrowing when he hears your answer.

“Incorrect,” Zayne murmurs, his hand squeezing your ass in warning.

“I am your concubine- ah!”

Zayne shakes his hand, spanking you twice. You can feel the prickly heat spread across your skin, the pain searing. You glare up at him, and he smiles back, his hand smoothing over your reddened backside.

“Who are you, my love?” he whispers, his nose nudging yours.

Oh. Oh.

The Emperor’s insistence is a remarkable thing, you think. He may be even more stubborn than you are. Zayne’s fingers tapping against your cheek brings you out of your thoughts, your eyes meeting his.

“I- I am your Empress,” you say quietly.

“Precisely.”

Zayne slots his lips over yours and you mewl, your hips beginning to rock again, inner thighs wet with your slick and his pre-cum smeared over his abdomen. He kisses you over and over until you’re short of breath and your lips are swollen and slick with his spit.

“Will you take my cock, my love?”

“Y- yes,” you say airily, lifting your hips as he grips the base of his cock, “please.”

Zayne squeezes your hip, watching as you bite your lip and sink down on his cock. His cock is just as girthy as you remember, filling up your needy hole perfectly. Your body falls forward at the feeling and Zayne kisses your cheek, his arms wrapping around your waist.

“Always take my cock so well,” he praises.

Your hands plant themselves against his chest as your head tips back, taking what you want from him. Hips rising and falling, airy moans filling the air, you ride the Emperor. Zayne moans with you, his hands kneading at the flesh of your sides before drifting to take handfuls of your ass too.

“So good,” you slur, the force of your movements increasing, “feels so good, Zayne.”

“I know,” Zayne whispers, watching the bounce and sway of your breasts as you move atop him, “use me, my love.”

You do as he says, using him to drive yourself further to the edge of pleasure. The sounds filling the throne room are lewd, the clap of skin echoing throughout coupled with your shared noises.

Your thighs burn as you roll your hips, taking his cock deeper into the heat of your cunt, feeling it punch into the most sensitive spot inside of you. It’s too much, the mind-numbing sensations and your own body tiring with every movement.

You slump against him, hips slowing to a pitiful stop, his fat cock still stuffed inside of you. It twitches and you whimper, peering up at Zayne desperately.

“Husbands should take care of their wives,” you mumble, lips pressing against his.

“But we are not yet married,” he whispers teasingly.

Zayne kisses you slowly, his hand sliding up your neck and stopping to cup your cheek. He molds you to his will, maneuvering your body as he sees fit, grabbing at every inch of flesh he can reach.

“But I am yours,” you say earnestly, “and I will be yours till the day I die.”

“You will, won’t you?” Zayne smiles, drawing you closer, “nothing makes me happier, my dear.”

You wail when he suddenly ruts up into you, balls slapping against your ass as he tightens his grip to bounce you up and down on his lap. Your hands lose their holds on his shoulders, scrabbling for stability until you find purchase on the top of his throne.

The Emperor is fucking you on his throne.

You try to feel some sense of mortification, but you can’t, the feeling of his cock erasing all sensible thoughts from your mind. Zayne slaps your ass and you squeak, body falling forward even more. Your breasts press into his face and you whine when he mouths at them, sucking a hardened nipple into his mouth.

The Emperor’s name leaves your mouth in a pleading chant and he answers your needs, pulling you down until your cunt is flush with the base of his cock, pussy swallowing up his length completely. Zayne slows to a grind, keeping his cock stuffed inside of you.

You curl an arm around his neck, hugging him closer to your breasts and Zayne groans, his mouth opening wider to try and take in your entire breast. He stares up at you, the flush on his cheeks deepened and eyes so, so soft.

Your lips slot over his as soon as his mouth detaches from your breast, your lips working against his slowly and sweetly, hips swaying back to meet the slow thrusts of his hips.

“You have ruined me,” you confess, cheek resting on his shoulder.

“Better it be me than some other man,” he whispers.

You agree with him on that. Zayne has given you far more than you could’ve possibly dreamed, the twist of fate bringing you something, or rather, someone to cherish.

“You are everything, Zayne.”

He groans at your bold words, his head falling back against his throne. You come undone in slow waves, body trembling as he comes with you, his cock kicking inside of you as hot cum spurts from the tip, filling you up. You can feel the thickness of it, cum spilling into you for a few moments longer as your hips slow to a stop.

You both breathe heavily, his chest moving under yours. A thin sheen of sweat covers your bodies, robes forgotten as they lie at the foot of the throne.

A soft smile graces your lips as you move his hair out of his eyes, tilting his head to kiss his forehead.

“You spoil me,” Zayne mutters, nuzzling into your palm.

“I think it is the other way around,” you laugh breathlessly.

He sighs, slumping in his throne, his cock still inside of you. You can feel it softening, no longer plugging you full as cum begins to leak out from your pussy.

“I may need more tea,” you whisper.

Zayne huffs in amusement, his fingers collecting his viscous cum. He smears it across your pussy, his fingers catching onto your clit as he rubs his cum onto the little bud. He lifts his hand to your mouth and you accept eagerly, staring into his eyes as you suck his fingers clean of cum.

“Minx,” he mutters.

You giggle, kissing the pads of his fingers affectionately, shifting to sit on his thigh. Zayne smiles in return, his hands massaging your sore thighs. He kisses your cheek a few times, peppers a few kisses here and there over your shoulder.

“Feeling better?” Zayne asks, nuzzling your cheek.

“Much,” you whisper, smiling up at him, “but I fear I may not be able to walk.”

“Shall I carry you again?” the Emperor whispers.

You roll your eyes, prodding your fingers into his chest, “I did not enjoy that.”

“Lying is punishable by death.”

“You are insufferable,” you whisper.

Zayne leans forward for another kiss, but you deny him, slipping off of his lap. He laughs when your thighs tremble, reaching out to catch you by the waist before your knees buckle.

He tugs you onto his lap, thwarting your escape as he kisses you again. You think you won’t be leaving this place anytime soon.

Zayne doesn’t think there’s anything more beautiful in this world than when you’re sleeping.

The slow rise and fall of your chest, the sweet innocence of your face, your hair splayed against the pillows, the gods must favor him for they’ve sent him a vision.

He smiles as he watches you stir in your sleep, brushing away the hair that’s fallen onto your face. Zayne can’t resist leaning closer, his fingers tracing the curve of your cheek, feeling your soft skin under his.

Zayne likes it when you smile, when you glare, the way you protest against his subtle teases. He’s never met someone as endearing as you, never bothered to take interest in another until you came along with that tray of tea clutched in your hands. He hasn’t told you about how his own heart flutters at the mere thought of you, and doesn’t think he will. He’d be better off showing you instead.

Above all, he remembers when you’d stumbled into his chambers, your flustered disposition as you’d apologized. He’d been lonely before you, trapped in a dull existence with others meandering through his life without purpose.

But you’ve changed things now. He feels free when he hears your laugh, the light in your eyes warming him from within. The world around him seems brighter, sparks of color appearing in places he had never seen before.

You had painted the world for him.

#zayne smut #zayne #zayne x reader #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace #lnd smut #lnd zayne #lnd #zayne x you #emperor!zayne

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jeongin-lvr · 1 month ago

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cw. very mean! seung, pussy slapping + fingering, talk of punishments, reader is a brat.

sweet loving boyfriend Heeseung who’s had enough of your attitude and finally decides to put you in your place. he doesn’t want to— “it hurts me more than it hurts you, baby,” is what he said when he shoved you over his lap. his eyes glaring as he lifts your already impossibly short skin over your ass, exposing your pantie-less pussy, already leaking and puffy. he almost cusses before you start to try to wiggle free, too used to getting what you want around him. not today. he’s put up with your exasperating attitude with grace before, but he was tested too much, too far.

he raised a hand and laid a hard wack against your right ass cheek, earning a loud yelp and then a whine from you. you wiggled more, fighting his iron clad grip. but he was too strong, there wasn’t any use in trying. “no, baby, I don’t think you understand. you’re getting punished. stay the fuck still.” you whined again at his words, peeking over your shoulder at your mean boyfriend; attempting your best watery, puppy-eyed stare. though he’s already made up his mind, there’s no use trying to escape your fate.

“this is what happens when you don’t fucking listen to me,” Heeseung raised his hand again, slapping your other cheek, already displaying deep red coloration on your skin, “do you get it now?”

you pouted, clutching his jeans hard while he took your silence as an answer. “no?”

another smack to your ass, “first you go and sit on Jake’s lap… next I find out you’re not wearing any panties… and now you’re not taking your punishment. I’ve been patient with you haven’t I?” you could tell he was really pissed off. the way his eyes widened and his nostrils slightly flared with every slap he brought down in your ass. one cheek after the other, making you yelp from the sensitive pain from the stinging handprints. Heeseung gritted his teeth, “actin’ like a slut… I’ll treat you like one then, hm?”

“n-no—“ you attempted a rebuttal but nothing came, instead you squeaked as his hand slapped hard against your clit. a change from your ass, now slaps landed on your clit and leaky pussy. making the moment all the more erotic.

“don’t argue with me, brat. you’ll only worsen your punishment,” Heeseung has never called you brat before. the sound of his rolling off his tongue in such harsh syllables shouldn’t have made you as wet as it did, “how many slaps do you think you deserve on this slutty lil’ cunt, hm? 20? 30?”

you shook your head with a somber whimper, “Heeseung—“

“nope,” Heeseung laid a particularly hard slap against your throbbing bundle of nerves, aching and red from all the hits he’d given, “45 should be good, right? maybe that’ll knock some sense into that slutty little brain of yours.”

you cried, a real sob escaping your throat as he laid the first slap, “count.”

you proceeded to count, the reality sinking in that your usually sweet, dedicated boyfriend was being serious. you’d fucked up.

“one… ah, two, three— f-fuck, four,” You felt breathless with every word, tilting your head forward and resting your cheek against the couch cushion. Heeseung laid slap after slap until he reached his goal number, your nimble and weak voice arousing him much more than he ever thought he would be. “…45… Seungie, please…”

Heeseung didn’t respond but you could hear shuffling, he was moving something. you peered around and stared at him, meeting his glare, making your heart sink.

“m’ sorry,” you breathed.

“m’ sorry too, love, but you brought this upon yourself,” Heeseung quipped, gliding his hand over your disgustingly wet entrance, up and down your slit with the same cadence he bore when he usually fingered you. though this time the throbbing ache of your clit from all the hits was making your brain fuzzy.

“cum and I’m not fucking you for a week,” he spoke as a warning before slamming his fingers into your slick hole, his palm ramming into your pelvis harshly, “got it?”

you nodded weakly, regretting your prior decisions.

#feat. heeseung .ᐟ #enha heeseung #heeseung headcanons #lee heeseung x reader #lee heeseung smut #enhypen heeseung #enhypen x reader #enhypen smut #enha smut #enha hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen imagines #heeseung smut

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comatosebunny09 · 4 months ago

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defense(less) zone | sylus

— summary: it wasn’t until your friend returned with a third glass that he noticed something was…off. the woman—tara, he believes her name was—pat him on the shoulder as she strode past. “have a good night, mr. skye,” she drawled, leaving sylus to ponder what the hell that meant. — cw: aphrodisiacs, written with female reader in mind, awkward boners, stupid humor, alcohol consumption, accidental intentional drugging, profanity, sylus in-heat, sexual content, mdni — notes: here's half of what you asked for. once i finish up with my other wips, i'll revisit this one. thank you so much for reading! — tags: @leighsartworks216 @world-of-hearts @queenofstresss @cheshireworld @beewilko

Sylus knew better.

He knew after the third time you warned him not to touch the grog that it was imperative he listen.

Sure, he teased you about it. “I assure you, sweetheart. I know how to hold my liquor.”

The sharp look in your eye held a warning. “That’s not the problem.”

He chuckled with his hands thrown up in mock surrender. You were being a killjoy, sure. But he heeded you, avoiding the table that held the concoction of spirits like the plague.

Until…

Well, your friends—they were so lovely. Equally as insistent, shoving drinks and hors d'oeuvres into his hands while you were off socializing.

It was your fault for leaving him alone. You were the talk of the ball since you’d stepped foot in the venue with Mister Tall, Dark, and Devastating. Naturally, when you left his side, your friends swept in, buzzing about like hoverflies.

They bombarded him with questions, swooned over him, complimented him. He was used to the limelight. This level of attention. But it hit differently when people weren’t kissing his ass because he was a kingpin.

He found his defenses melting into the floor the more they talked to him, and it was easy for Sylus to understand why you acquainted yourself with them. They were lively. Disarming. Dangerous.

One of your lady friends sidled up to him with a glass of something ominous. Light pink in color, and it swirled and glittered like a nebula. Its acrid scent should’ve been enough of a ward. But he didn’t want to be rude. And he wasn’t a bitch, so he drank it, ignoring its harsh edge. He needed to blend in. Show you he could drink like a sailor and still carry you home by the night’s end.

And…maybe he was being a little impressionable.

It wasn’t until your friend returned with a third glass that he noticed something was…off.

“Thank you,” Sylus said, the glass poised at his lips.

Your friend watched with mischief painting her features. That didn’t bode well. Sylus threw back the last drink, placing his glass on a waiter’s tray passing by.

The pair stood in uncomfortable silence—Sylus smiling warily with a hand stuffed in his pocket and the young lady refusing to look away as a Chesire grin split her face in twain.

The woman—Tara, he believes her name was—pat him on the shoulder as she strode past. “Have a good night, Mr. Skye,” she drawled, leaving Sylus to ponder what the hell that meant.

The rest of your coworkers followed suit, slowly trickling away to the dancefloor. As Sylus said his goodbyes to the last of them, the room started to teeter, and his chest grew heavy as if weighed down by lead.

Sylus massaged his temple, trying to blink away the sudden bleariness. There was no way in hell he was drunk. Not this early in the evening, and not after a handful of watered-down cocktails.

He scanned the room. Caught your eye amongst the sea of revelers. You raised your champagne flute to him in greeting, a quiet smile rounding your lips. This ball was important to you—an opportunity to create a lasting impression on your new superiors. Sylus would kick himself if he spoiled it. So, he nodded.

But he learned to regret that simple gesture soon enough.

He stumbled forward a step or two, and the marbled floors below swam. What the fu—

Shaking his head, Sylus’ eyes flit to you to see your brows pinching with concern. You looked like you wanted to tear through the crowd to get to him. He smiled to lay your worries to rest, mouthing, ‘I’m alright.’

Seemingly satisfied, you spared him another apprehensive look before returning your attention to the woman before you who’d ensnared you in conversation.

Sylus wasn’t exactly sure what was amiss with his body. Just knew he was growing hot beneath the fibers of his tux, and the hairs at his nape were pasted to his skin by sweat.

He wended through the crowd, taking long strides towards the restroom. Maybe a splash of cold water would draw him back to sobriety.

On his journey, he caught sight of the punchbowl you’d steered him away from all night.

He swallowed past a lump of barbs in his throat, quickening his pace as a familiar swirl of pale pink gleamed condescendingly at him from within.

—

Thankfully, the bathroom was empty.

He inspected himself in the mirror, his large hands on either side of the sink bowl to keep him upright.

He’d broken out with a fine sheen of sweat. It was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe. Why the fuck was it so hot? And why was his chest burning like that, the sensation slowly puddling in his stomach?

Sylus turned on the faucet. Cupped his palms beneath its languid spray, splashing water onto his face. He slapped his cheeks, willing himself to get his shit together. Despite his efforts, the lights of the men’s room continued to spin and blur, and he struggled to keep himself afloat.

He winced at his reflection. Took a deep breath, mouth hanging open when he exhaled. He looked flushed. Unkempt. The veins of his neck visibly throbbed, and he felt the beginnings of a headache seeping in. Could he really not hold his liquor?

“Hey, man!” called a boisterous voice from behind. It was followed by a clap on Sylus’ shoulder, and had he been anyone but himself, he would’ve barreled into the wall. A growl roiled in his chest, and he cut his eyes at the intruder.

The guy in question—one of your coworkers whom Sylus spoke with earlier—draped an arm about his shoulders, studying both their visages with a drunken cant to his lips.

“Great party, huh?”

Sylus could only grunt, his throat slowly constricting, and his wits scattered about.

“You alright, man?” he queried. “Not lookin’ so hot there.” He studied Sylus’ side profile a moment longer before a knowing foxlike grin crept over his lips. “Aw, dude! You get a hold of the grog, too?”

Sylus felt the color drain from his face.

“Yeah, man. That shit’s lethal. Don’t know what they put in it this time, but I’m harder than a rock!” The room erupted with his raucous laughter directly into Sylus’ ear. He proceeded to palm himself, playfully wiggling his hips.

Sylus wondered how long you’d give him the silent treatment if he committed murder tonight.

“Take care, man,” the obnoxious asshole bellowed, patting Sylus a little too roughly between his shoulder blades. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

Sylus tracked his movements to the door until it swung closed behind him, blotting out the swell of noise beyond. He bowed forward, his forehead colliding with the glacial surface of the mirror—a welcomed contrast to his inflamed skin.

“Fuck,” he rasped, hanging on by a thread.

They spiked the grog. They spiked the fucking grog. He’d had three glasses of it, and whatever was in there disrupted his senses and made his pants grow unbearably tight. That would explain why everyone was so nauseatingly happy.

Your visage flashed in his mind. Made his body pulse, and he crumbled with grit teeth.

He knew you’d be up his ass when you found out.

In his defense, you left him to the wolves. To those jackals you called friends.

—

He finds you in no time. Sniffs you out like a bloodhound after he gave himself a lengthy pep talk in the bathroom.

“Sweetie,” Sylus calls from behind. Eases a hand down the curve of your spine. You shiver. Damn your dress for having such a devastating plunge. For boasting your pretty skin like that.

You’re so soft here, he thinks, dragging the backs of his fingers up and down the ripples of your vertebrae. The scent you carry is lethal. Floral and sweet. His eyes nearly pitch into the back of his skull when he gets a whiff, toes scrunching in his dress shoes.

You peer at him over your shoulder, a soft smile to your lips. Toy with your necklace. Very demure, very docile.

“There you are,” you purr with that thousand-watt smile, your voice honey-smooth. He feels it pooling in his lower belly. Bites his lip against a pathetic sound threatening to make itself known.

Over your shoulder, he gives your company a curt, dismissive smile. Perches a hand on your hip, drawing you back towards him to spin you around. He then leads you to a spot devoid of people, away from the strobing lights. His palms clasp around your arms, thumbs cruising over supple skin.

“What’s up?” you whisper, pressing a concerned hand between his pectorals. His Achilles Heel. His heart beats a war cadence against you. He might just take you here if you’ll let him. Split you nice and open.

Alarm meddles with your features at his silence. At the violent tremor of his heart. Your brows furrow, and your lips quiver. “What’s wrong, Sy?”

God, you’re beautiful, even when you look all concerned. He traces a languid triangle between your bowed lashes and lips. Wants to kiss you so fucking bad. Smudge that pretty lipstick down your chin. Slide his hand between your thighs and make you sigh his name in front of all these people.

His dick throbs.

Fuck. Focus. Stay focused.

“Sweetie,” he tries again, swallowing thickly. His eyes are at half-mast. He’s trying his best not to sway—not to look like a bumbling idiot, but whatever’s in his system has him seeing double.

You jet into mom mode. Gently grab his wrists, the feel of your digits branding his skin, wrenching a needy sound from his throat. “Sylus, what’s wrong? Talk to me.”

He debates on telling you the truth. Turns it over like a record in his mind, weighing the pros and cons. Feels silly, like a child admitting to rifling through the cookie jar.

A wave of vertigo hurtles into him, reminding him of his plight. He teeters forward, catching himself at the last minute. Angles closer, his breath stirring your baby hairs.

“I…might’ve indulged a little.”

“Huh?” you ask, rubbing up and down his arms. You smooth his hair away from his forehead, behind his ears. Gather his cheeks into your palms, and he burns like an inferno. “The hell does that even mean?”

He tries his best to roll his eyes. For someone so gorgeous, you can be incredibly daft.

“The grog, sweetie.”

“The grog…” There’s a faraway look in your eyes.

He watches the gears turn in your head before realization descends on your shoulders. Whatever concern you held for him sloughs off, replaced by mortification. The world eases by in a Gaussian blur, every sound a muddled mess to his ears.

Suddenly, you’re shoving at him. Pelting his chest with half-hearted jabs, and he stumbles back. Bad idea. He catches your hands, holding on tight to keep himself afloat.

“You drank—you drank the fu—”

Glancing around, you haul him towards an alcove. Push him up against the wall none-too-gently, forcing a grunt from his lungs.

“You drank the fucking grog?”

Uh-oh. You’re whisper-yelling. He’s in for it now.

“Yep.”

“After I told you, like, thirty times not to?!”

“Yep.”

“What the fuck, man!”

He’s swaying again. Plasters on a silly grin. It’s comical, watching you quietly panic.

“To be fair, your friend fed it to me.” He motions to something off to the side with a tilt of his head.

You pick up on his cue. Tara’s not too far off, waggling her fingers in a way that bleeds mischief.

“Unbelievable!” you sigh, scrubbing a frustrated hand down your face. “I can’t leave you by yourself for two seconds.”

You’re clearly upset. He doesn’t mind catching strays. Couldn’t dodge them even if he tried. So, instead, he takes hold of your hands to calm them. Tugs you closer, eyes a bleary shade of burgundy.

“What’s done is done, sweetheart. How we next choose to handle this is what matters now.”

You give him a look. A once-over, painting a sharp line down the slope of his body. It is then that you catch sight of him—hot and turgid against the stitching of his trousers. A knit forms between your brows. You look like you want to scream-slash-cry.

“That bad?” you ask. Your disappointment from before abates, replaced by something of concern. He chuckles, and it’s an effort on its own.

Sluggishly, he directs your hand to the cusp of him. Groans something filthy and bitten-off, eyes screwing shut. He bows into you, a bead of sweat trailing down the ridge of his Adam’s apple.

“That bad.”

#sylus x reader #sylus x you #love and deepspace sylus #sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #sylus qin #l&ds sylus

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porcalinecunt · 7 months ago

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I'm OBSESSED with sharing is caring 😍😍😍 it's like you were peering directly in my brain while writing it. Can I request part 2 when you have the time? I neeeeed to see what happens next 👀👀 ty!

𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐒 (𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋) 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 !

🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩 it’s bad enough jason fucked you full on call with your boyfriend dick, yet you don’t even know the half of what’s in store when dick comes through the window . . . ♡︎

⋆˚࿔ FEATURING . . 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ JASON TODD & DICK GRAYSON X MALE! READER

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . cw — ftm!reader, threesome, breeding, rough sex, lots of cum, spitroasting, cucking, masterbation, overstimulation, feminization(?), dumbification, dick is a jealous boyfie and jason is fucking gross :<

[・:。author’s note ! 「 ✉️ 」・𓂃 ࣪˖ nghhh i wish i was reader so badly </3 if you haven’t read the first part, here!

face down, ass up, pussy fuckin’ filled to the brim already.

that’s what greeted dick grayson the moment he climbed through the window of your shared apartment, rock hard and rightfully so, pissed.

what didn’t help was seeing jason, the unwelcomed guest, sitting at the edge of the bed where your body laid. one hand caressing the bruised and reddened skin on your ass from all his spanking and the other palming himself through his boxers where it was explicitly clear that he was hard again.

“glad you made it back in time dick, otherwise i would’ve gave him a fuckin’ baby..”

jason laughs while dick fumes, his kevlar suit feeling more tighter down there thanks to his post patrol boner. he approaches your shaking figure, swatting jay’s hand away and pressing his palm onto your lower back. a sigh of relief left your hoarse throat.

“oh no, don’t think you’re done yet..we’re just getting started.”

before you could question anything, dick pushed you onto your back once again, exposing the trail his brother left imprinted into your skin. bite marks littered your neck and shoulders with hickies coloring your collerbones in an ugly mash of red and purple. jason was a greedy fuck, not leaving a blank space for dick. what an animal.

dick quickly shot jay a glare, which he only received a smug grin in return. not breaking eye contact for another second, he placed his hands on the back of your knees and pushed your sore legs back until they touched your chest. you gasped as dick pressed his leaking tip against your cunt, rubbing against your abused clit while you whined weakly. a shallow “dickkkkk…” leaked through your teeth, earning you two fingers down your throat.

“don’t you fucking ‘dick’ me, not after the shit you pulled tonight..”

the frustration and jealousy finally got the better of him as he pushed his cock all the way in your stuffed pussy. dick didn’t waste another second in practically mounting your smaller figure and snapping his hips against yours until they bruised.

harsh, furious and needy thrusts. poor dick lashed it all out on your used up cunt, not caring about the gobs of cum that jason stuffed into you earlier. obscene noises filled the walls with the rhythmic thwop! thwop! thwop! sounds being the only thing you could hear besides your boyfriend’s groans and strange fapping noises from right next to you.

your eyes landed on jason, whom was sitting right next to the bed, cock in his hand and frantically pumping away at the view of his bitch being fucked into oblivion.

“jason!—“

a large hand flew up and grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks together until your lips were puckered.

“don’t look at him. he’s not gonna help ya..” dick sneered before letting out a breathy moan between his words. “look at me, only me princess..”

his tone soft, before pressing a quick kiss onto your drooling lips. your gaze shifted once again, this time, peering at the view of your cunt being stuffed by dick’s length. a mess of his, jay’s and your own cum spread onto your thighs and staining the sheets. something straight out of pornography.

the headboard violently banged against the wall behind you, your body rocked upwards until it bobbed back and forth as if you were a lifeless ragdoll, a breeding mount for your exhausted vigilante of a boyfriend use after a long and aggravating night. he was having none of it, and it still aroused you even after jason cummed in you.

“dickie..m’ so close..”

you whined, soft and breathy with a smile belonging to an innocent. it worked like a charm with dick’s cock twitching against your bruised cervix. only fueled when you hear a small plop!

“help me out here doll, can’t do it all myself y’know?” jason. that shameless son of a bitch, nudging his leaking tip against your pouted lips. spiteful and irritated enough from his antics, dick pulled your hips against his in a sloppy and needy attempt to rip an orgasm out of you. all the while, the red hood vigilante shoved his meat into your jaw, not caring about the gagging noises that ripped from your throat.

the overwhelming harmony if skin slapping, groans and slurred cursing from the men and your own noises of struggle yet pleasure made you dizzy. your brain melted with a burning desire remaining, one to be fucked full and stained with their cum. you were so lost infact, you were caught off guard once a sharp wave of pleasure jolted your body to a halt.

“Fuuuckk..yeah, atta boy..look how much you’re takin’ from both of us..” Jason chuckled, watching as ropes of cum drenched your fucked out face.

Dick, on the other hand, pressed his lower half against your stomach as he breeds your used up pussy, not pulling away even for a moment. he secretly hoped he fucked out all of jason’s cum.

wiping your lips clean of jay’s seed, your boyfriend kept you occupied through a surprisingly gentle kiss while he shooed his brother away.

“damn, not even a thank?—“

“get the fuck out.” dick sloppily shot back, not wanting to pull away from you in case jay tried to shimmy his way into your mouth again. he never wants to share, not with him, ever again.

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harperb2813 · 7 months ago

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"Don't make a fucking sound."

cw! minors dni. angst, use of pet names like princess and baby, rough sex, strap-on sex, hair pulling, dirty talking, degradation, praising, multiple orgasms, mention of squirting, strap on use (r! receiving),oral (r! receiving).

Ellie takes her anger out on you after losing a lacrosse match.

She played lacrosse, the sport that she loved. Ellie would take out her stress when she played. But when her team would lose, you needed to get ready to go back home with her.

Ellie was tense the whole ride home. When you did get home, she sighed as she slammed the door. You were about to go upstairs until Ellie spoke, "C'mere."

"Hmm?" You hummed."

"I said come here." Ellie demanded in a harsh tone, as Ellie walked to you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you to a wall, pinning your wrists against it. "Look at me." You look in her piercing green eyes. Ellie looked irritated, she would always get like this when the team lost. You knew she wasn't angry at you, it was just the outcome of the game. Ellie pressed her body against yours, not allowing you to move. Her hands firmly holding your wrists.

"Ellie..." You say, slightly shocked.

"Shut up." Ellie said, her voice firm. Her knee pushed between your legs, her knee softly pressed against your pussy. Ellie looked down at you.

"Fuck-" You moan.

"Tsk, what did I say..." She pushes you harder against the wall. "I said shut up." Ellie pressed her knee against you again, and leaned down to your ear. "Say anything again and I stop. Understood?" You nod keeping your mouth shut.

"Good girl."

Ellie whispered, her face close to your now. Her hands firmly gripped your wrists, as she started to press light kisses across your neck, her knee still pressing against you.` You bite back a moan. Ellie smirked against your skin, knowing exactly what she was doing. She started to leave more wet kisses on your neck. Her knee starting to press deeper.

"You're going to stay quiet for me?" You nod begging for her to continue.

"Such a good girl you are."Ellie said against your neck, her voice was raspy. She bit down gently on your neck, the pressure from her knee increasing.Ellie's kisses slowly moved down to your collarbone, leaving kisses and biting it gently, causing it to turn a light pink color. She then bit and sucked on your sweet spot in the nape of your neck. Ellie would bite down on your sweet spot a little harder. She started pulling your body against hers, pressing her body against yours. Ellie softly pulled down your shirt, as her warm lips started to kiss down to your chest.

"You don't know how gorgeous you are.." She whispered against your skin, as her kisses went further down. You tilt Your head back with pleasure.

Ellie loved how sensitive you were to her touch. She would love to see you squirm under her. Her kisses started to go further, nearing your stomach.

"You're so sensitive.." Her hand slowly started to wander up your stomach. They squeeze your tits, causing you to gasp. Ellie pauses for a moment "What did I say about making noise? You can't hold it in?"She smirks, her hand started to lightly squeeze your tits one at a time.

"Sorry" You sign in sign language. Ellie glanced at your hands, smiling before speaking.

"I forgive you, princess." She slowly pushed you down onto the floor to your knees now towering over you, smiling down at you. You look up at her, your eyes hungry for her. Ellie slowly squats down, looking at you. Her eyes filled with lust as she spoke.

"You looked so beautiful while I had you pinned against the wall. Seeing you all flustered made me want to do even more." She puts her thumb on your lip. Slowly, she moves her thumb into your mouth watching your reaction closely.

"You're such a good girl for me. So obedient.. and so beautiful.."

"Are you wearing your strap?" You sign. Ellie nodded.

"Of course I am. Did you really think I wouldn't wear it?" You shrug and smirk up at herEllie leaned closer to you, grabbing your chin, making you look at her. Her grip on your chin was firm, but gentle, not wanting to hurt you.

"Don't start acting cocky with me, princess."

"What do you want me to do?" You sign. Ellie's hands slowly went from your chin to your shoulders, forcing you to where she wants you.

"I think you know exactly what I want. You don't think I'm going to let you off after what you just did, do you princess?"

"Suck it?"I sign while smirking. Ellie chuckled as she slowly sat back against the wall, looking at you.

"That's exactly what I want, princess. Make yourself useful. Come on, pretty girl." You unbutton her pants and pulling them and her underwear down. Her big cock looking you in the face. Ellie looked down at you, smiling as she put a hand back on your chin.

"Is it what you were expecting, princess? Because I can see it in your eyes." Ellie chuckled at your shocked look, as she started to run her fingers through your hair.

"Go on, princess. You know what to do. Open up for me.” You did as you were told. Ellie watched you intently as you slowly opened your mouth for her, smirking the whole time.

"You look so good like this, all dolled up and ready for me." Ellie's expression changed, as she leaned her head back against the wall, letting out a soft moan. Her hand still in your hair.

"Just like that- good girl.." You swear she could really feel it as if it really were her own cock. Ellie looked down at you, looking into your eyes.

"You look so beautiful, doll.. on your knees and in between my legs..."Ellie continued to run her fingers through your hair, slightly pulling as she watched you.

"You're mine, aren't you princess? You're all mine." you nod around her dick. Ellie tightened her grip in your hair slightly, a soft moan escaping her mouth.

"I'm the only one who can see you like that, nobody else." she grunts. She slowly begins to thrust, her cock sliding in and out, the friction causing her to become more aroused. Ellie gripped your hair, and bit her lip a whimper escaping her lips as she started to gently thrust into your mouth. Her moans started to escape her lips, as she looked down at you. Soon enough Ellie was sliding down your throat, slowly but forcefully.

“Good girl... All nice and deep.” You tried your best to take it, to not gag. But harsh deep thrusts from Ellie made you.

"Doing so good princess, just a little more." she muttered "You look like such a mess. Your hair and mouth a mess because of me. You're enjoying this aren't you princess?" You nod around her, gagging. Ellie continued to go deeper in your mouth, she was enjoying this. Seeing you in such a state was driving her crazy.

“I’m going to fuck you up so badly princess. You’re going to be an absolute fucking wreck..."You could tell how much she was enjoying this, the small moans and gasps that escaped her mouth. Seeing you a mess in front of her, looking up at her with pleading eyes.

"You're mine, princess. My pretty girl, that I get to ruin." She suddenly thrusted in deeper and faster, a loud moan escaped her.

"God look how you're sucking me. I'm getting close. you gonna be able to swallow it all?" she asked, her breath ragged. You nodded eagerly.Her eyes darkened as she looked down at you.

"Such a good girl. Can't wait to see you all messy and covered in my cum." She is fucking your mouth hashly now.

“I’m almost there princess. You going to take it like a good little slut?Gonna behave and swallow it? Be a good girl and don't spill any"?" She pants. You nod, tears welling in your eyes. A moan escaped her mouth as her grip to your hair tightened.

"I'm gonna fill your pretty mouth up doll. So be a good girl and swallow. You can take it all, can't you?" She teased. She suddenly began to hit the back of your throat.

"i'm cumming" She moaned

"Look at me princess. I want you to look at me while I fill you up" You look up at her. She held your head in place, practically forcing her cum down your throat. she pulls out of your mouth as you swallow it.

"good girl... You can talk now doll." She smiles.

"You tasted so good love..." You say. Ellie smirked, as she began to run her fingers through your hair again. Caressing the back of your head.

"Did I princess? I’m glad you enjoyed it. You looked beautiful on your knees for me."

"Is that all?" You ask. You know the answer but yo need to hear it yourself.

"You think I’m finished with you princess? I’m not nearly done with you yet." She scooped you up, carrying you over to the bed, slowly tossing you onto it removing your clothes and her shirt. She slowly began to kiss down your stomach, stopping at your thighs.

"You look so good like this, doll. All vulnerable for me." She hovered over you.

"Are you ready for me, princess?"She smirked, as she moved to in between your legs.

"I'll take care of you, don't worry, princess."

"I'm ready Els.." She pushed herself into you, her hands slowly going to your hips, holding them tightly. She begins to harshly thrust in and out of you, her hips snapping against your ass. The smell of sex quickly filled the bedroom. She grabbed your hips, fucking you faster. Moans spew out of your mouth trying to catch your breath.

"You look so damn good like this, doll. Taking me like that. You like my dick baby? Like it? She teased. You whined as she slipped deeper into you.

"Shut up. You can take it. Take it." She thrusts harder, forcing her cock deeper into you. She is stretching you and fucking your brains out. You are begging for her to slow down.

"Fuck Ellie please!" You beg.

"I said shut up. You can take it." She hissed. The room's temperature continued to rise, as the sound of the bed slightly creaking and the sounds of both of yours' breaths and moans were the only things that echoed through the room.

"Ellie 'm close..." You warn.

"Me too princess. Just hold on a little longer please." She pants. She started to go faster, the bed creaking under the both of you growing louder.

"You're doing so good for me princess. I'm gonna cum... You gonna let me fuck my babies into you?"

"Y-Yes Ellie..." She began to thrust harder, her breath becoming more staggered. Your orgasm hits you, your eyes rolling back as she fucks you through it. Your juices spilling our and a ring of cum forming at the base of her cock. Your body goes limp But Ellie doesn't care. you're her toy to use and fuck for tonight,She doesn't stop fucking you for a second, using you how she pleased. By the end of the night she had cum more times than she could recall.

Sorry for the sloppy ending. I wrote this at 12:35 in the morning (😭) to I was just trying to end it. I am working on a story with Ellie. it should be out soon!

#ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie smut #ellie x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie x you

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misserabella · 9 months ago

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jealousy, jealousy

spencer reid x fem! reader

summary;; you’ve had a crush on spencer reid for a long time. it’s time to take matters into your own hands. flirting with another agent in front of him might just do the trick.

cw; +18 content! minors dni!!, jealousy, possessiveness, mean harsh spencer, spanking, hair pulling, cursing, degradation and praise, use of good girl, dirty talking, oral sex (r receiving), orgasm control and denial, multiple orgasms, teasing, edging, begging, hickeys, choking, spencer being a little bit of a pervert, panty stealing, piv sex, unprotected sex (guys don’t do this), breeding kink, creampie…

spencer reid. doctor spencer reid. the sweet amazing genius of your team seemed to be going crazy. he was always collected. always right. always holding on by the right string. but that string had snapped when you had came into the bau with a skin-tight skirt and a lavender button up shirt that made his cheeks flush —as its first buttons were undone to show your cleavage—. and he had fallen into complete madness when agent waters —one of the philadelphia agents that had come to quantico to ask for your help in a new case— had put his eyes on you. and his hands.

your smile was professional, yet sweet as he made small talk with you, and spencer tried his best to not show the rage in his face when his palm fell to your shoulder, rubbing circles with a smirk.

when you first arrived to the bau, spencer was freshly out of college and entering the team as well. he was closed off. shy. the years had changed him. cases had made him harder. but he was still as soft with you. it was as if you were his soft spot, anything he did he’d try and make it greater for you. he had memorized how you took your coffee, your favorite restaurants and orders, how many shots it took for you to fall into a fit of giggles with jj and emily, the exactly amount of time it took for you to get into the bull pen from your home, how many minutes it took for you to reapply your lipgloss. if he closed his eyes he could count the perfect amount of eyelashes in your eyes, could remember the perfect shade of pantone color of your irises, how many lines your smile made appear in your perfect soft features, he could make out the beauty marks on your skin, could name exactly what your perfume was made of, could remember the first words you said to him, the first smile you gave him, the first time you touched him…

it didn’t take him long to fall for you. it was easy. so easy it scared him. you were like the sun after years of cloudy skies, like a fresh of breath air after having been under water for an eternity… he was completely head over heels for you. but he wasn’t able to tell you. so he just stood beside you, did everything he could for you, protected you in the field, he had even stood in front of a loaded gun for you for gods sake…

so seeing that man, that agent, get to touch you that easily, in ways that he had dreamed about, in ways that he had thought about while late at night with his hand fisting his cock in between moans and groans, had his mind reeling, his jaw tight and his fists clenching.

you weren’t even interested on the agent. sure, he was easy on the eyes, but you had set your own on someone already, and that someone was fuming just meters away from you, trying to hold himself together. you knew about spencer’s little crush on you. who didn’t? even through he tried, he couldn’t help but blush at your attention, to shiver at your touch, to get worked up at the sight of you. and you loved it. you loved the power you had over him. but you had waited long enough. and you wanted him to finally snap. so you played along in this little flirting to get out of him a reaction, his true feelings.

by the way his eyes were boring into the back of your head you were sure it was working.

it was by the time one of your hands made its way to the agent’s chest and he pulled you closer by your hips that he had had enough of it.

he was quick to leave the files he pretended to be reading and make its way to the two of you to interrupt your conversation with a clearing of throat that caught your attention.

“excuse me. y/n, could i talk with you for a minute?” you nodded and waited, and his eyebrows arched. “in private.”

“oh. yeah. sorry.” you apologized to agent waters and followed the doctor through the hallways of the bau into a separated and vacant office.

his shoulders stood tense as you stepped inside and closed the door, his demeanor strange.

“what are you fucking doing?” he spat. and your whole body shivered at the coldness of his voice. at the look he gave you when he turned around to face you. hazel eyes leaving you feeling stone cold. he has never looked at you this way, never spoken at you this way. spencer never swore. hearing it come out of his mouth… fuck. it went straight down to your core.

“what-what do you mean?” you stuttered, hands shaking, your heart being bruised by its constant crashing against your ribs. he scoffed, stepping closer to you.

he had never looked this tall, this intimidating. what made you take a step back, making you bump against the recently closed door.

“now you want to act dumb? cute.” he smirked, and stepped even closer, your breath got stuck in your throat when he clicked closed the lock of the door. “flirting with that detective in front of me? seriously? come on… you know better than that.” your cheeks heated up.

caught. he had totally caught you. and he chuckles.

“you think i wouldn’t notice? this little game of yours?” you shiver.

“spencer…”

“what is it, baby? you wanted my attention that badly?” your mouth dried up. “so needy for it that you teased me with another man? what a brat.” you gasped as his hands pinned your wrists up in the wall, your back arching and chest rising to press against his own. “i’ll give it to you.” he muttered against your ear, and you almost moaned, his mouth latching onto that sweet spot below your ear, kissing down your neck, what made you gasp. “i’ll give you every last bit of it.” he bit down on the soft skin, and you moan. “what it is? haven’t i had make myself clear enough? can’t you see how much i want you? how much i need to bury my cock right up your pretty little pussy and fuck you stupid?” your cheeks heat up and your thighs press against the other. “so needy for it… acting like a fucking whore for another man so i’d need to show you?” one of his hand grips both your wrists, freeing his other to grasp it around your neck. “i am the only one that gets to touch you, kiss you, taste you, fuck you… do you understand? you’re fucking mine.” he tightens his hold when you don’t answer and you whimper. “do you understand?”

“yes…” you nodded and he smirked.

“atta girl.” he praised, but his actions spoke louder. “but i think i still need to show you who you belong to, hm?” he was quick to pull you towards the desk in the room, bending you over with your wrists still tightly clasped behind your back.

you gasped when his free hand harshly pulled up from your skirt, shoving it up your hips to expose the black lingerie that cladded your ass and dripping cunt. he groaned at the sight, his palm soothingly caressing the curve of your ass. “so pretty… look at you.” he grasped at your skin, making you moan, your chest tightly pressing against the wood. “you wore this for him, hm? were gonna let him fuck you with it on?” you shook your head and a shriek left your lips when his hand came down harshly against your skin. “were gonna let him see you like this?” another spank. “fuck you?” and another one. you were shivering in delirious pain, your legs wobbly, your pussy completely soaked at this point.

“no! i wore it for you. only you, spencer. i promise…” he hummed, caressing the reddening skin.

“i don’t know if i should believe you…” he whispered, and your ass pushed against his touch.

“touch me…” you begged. “touch me and you’ll see it’s only for you. it’s only for you, spencer…” you cried out, and he dampened his lips with his tongue, the hand that had just inflicted you pain coming down in between your thighs, slowly trailing up your inner thigh to tease you, what had you trembling and whining, a gasp leaving your lips along with a moan when his fingertips finally found their way to the lace, completely soaked through.

“fuck.” he groaned and you whimpered as he pressed against your clit, your hips moving backwards and against his touch. “you’re so wet, baby… and it is all for me, huh?” he smirked as he started rolling the sensitive nerve, and you nodded.

“yes, yes, only for you, please…” you moaned under his touch, shivering slightly when he pushed the material to the side to take a glimpse of your sopping cunt, groaning as he took his place between your legs, down onto his knees. “fuck!” you cried out when you felt it, the teasingly slow drag of his tongue in between your leaking folds, humming at the taste of your essence. he held your thighs open to keep you exposed as he lapped at you, your hips moving back against his face as he ate you out like a man starved. and he was, having spent years waiting for this moment, dreaming and fucking his fist to the thought of your heady taste. “spencer…” you whimpered as he latched onto your clit, one of your now free hands coming down to his head to grasp at his hair, making him groan at the tugging.

“you taste so good… fuck. i can’t get enough.” he cursed, pushing two of his fingers inside, finding no resistance and easily finding your g spot in your gummy walls, making you scream. “that’s it. good girl. scream for me. let them hear who you belong to.”

“spencer, i’m going to… i’m gonna…” but before you could reach your high, he was pulling away, leaving you empty and in edge. you whined. “what…? why did you…?”

“you think you deserve to cum after what you just pulled?” he inquired, coming back up on his feet and pushing your head onto the desk, your cheek pressing against the wood as he undid his belt. your body shivered as he pushed down his pants and underwear low enough for his throbbing dick to spring out, taking it in his free hand and gliding the leaking reddish tip along your folds, your entrance gaping in need to be filled by him, your thighs shaking and moans leaving your lips. “look at you. so desperate for it. you need it that badly, angel?” you nodded.

“yes, please, spencer, please… need you.” he hummed, and chuckled.

“what is it? is my little fuck toy needy? do you need my cock filling you up, baby? filling you up with my cum?” he inquired, grabbing harshly at your ass, ripping the lace parties to leave your dripping center completely exposed to his hungry eyes. he pushed them inside his pocket for later.

you whined, nodding against the wood, muttering ‘yes’s and ‘please’s in need of his mercy, of his dick finally splitting you in half.

“it’s okay. i’ll give it to you, angel. take my cock.”you gasped at the sudden thrust he made, filling you up and stretching you so easily it felt as if your body was meant for him, as if you’d only been made for taking him.

“so tight…” he grunted, relishing on the feeling of your warm slick walls around him as he started to thrust into you. you moaned out his name as he filled you up over and over again, nails scratching the desk as your body moved with his deep thrusts. “you’re gonna take this cock baby, you’re gonna take this cock and be good for me, hm?” you nodded, your mind buzzing at the feeling of him fucking you so deep…

“i wanna cum…” you whimpered, still on edge for him having left you at the nearing of your orgasm.

“hold it.” he ordered in a harsh smack to your ass, making you moan. “i’m not done yet.”

your eyes rolled back as he increased his pace, fucking you so fast and needy that it made the room fill with your moans and his groans. the hand that held your head down against the desk sneaked around your neck, pulling you up in a tight hold against his chest as his hips snapped into you, his breath hot against your neck as his lips latched onto the sensitive skin, branding you.

“please…” you whimpered at the new angle, which made his tip hit your g spot with every new thrust.

“no.” he groaned, his other hand coming down to your clit to tease you, push you to the edge just to get you desperate.

tears were spilling from your eyes at this point, begging him to let you find your release.

“you need it that badly, huh? fucking desperate for it. wanna cum around my cock so bad you’re crying for it.” he mocked you, his hold around your neck tightening.

“yes. yes, please. i need it spencer, please…” you cried out, and he grunted, the tightening and pulsing of your cunt as you tried to hold it in driving him closer to his own orgasm.

“fuuuuck.” he grunted, his balls tightening, the feeling of you and your sounds driving him crazy. “go ahead baby. come for me. make a mess of my dick.” he didn’t have to tell you twice, the permission in his voice making your orgasm drown you in waves as you clenched around him, soaking him and screaming in ecstasy. “good girl. good fucking fucking girl. coming so prettily around my cock. no one else gets to have you like this. only me. you’re mine.” you nodded, moaning his name. “i’m gonna cum, fuck.” he moaned, and you whimpered.

“inside. please cum inside.” you begged and he almost whined at the need in your voice.

“yeah? you want me to cum inside, baby? want me to feel you up? breed this pretty pussy?” you nodded.

“yes please, please spencer, please…” you cried out, his fingers still drawing circles on your clit and making your second orgasm approach at high speed. “cum in me. please baby, please… i want your cum in my pussy.”

your crude words were what made him finally snap, his cock twitching and throbbing in between your walls as his pace faltered in between moans and grunts, finally giving you what you wanted. the feeling of his cum coating your walls and stuffing you full making your second orgasm wash over you. the two of you rode your highs in between his thrusts and the rock of your hips against him, his lips kissing your neck and his hands on your chest, fumbling your chest softly and making you sigh.

once over, he slowly and carefully pulled out of you, still making you whimper at the loss of him.

“i know…” he muttered, cooing, and making you moan as his fingers pushed into you.

“spencer…” you sighed as his thumb came down to your sensitive clit.

“just one more. give me one more as i fuck my cum deeper into you, hm?”

and how could you say no?

back with my shenanigans 🤩😼

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honeylouwho · 16 days ago

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you’re such a little bitch ; mickey barnes (18)

synopsis (spoiler: do not read if you have not seen the film): wouldn’t you be excited if there were two of me?

cw: NSFW (18+) / spoilers for the film / mickey 18 / neck kissing / fem!reader / p in v (unprotected) / praise / established relationships (every mickey is a real lover) / slight voyeurism (idek now how to tag this, the lines are so blurred, mickey 17 walks in at the end) / mentions of bruising blood wc: 1000 love note: i’m gonna have to watch this film again, but mickey 18 changed my brain chemistry

Mickey Barnes died, yet again. He had printed, yet again. He was laying in your bed, eyes fixated on you as he recuperated from his last print job, yet again. With every Mickey there were some personality quirks— not every Mickey came out the exact same way. Some are nicer than others. Some are fussier than others. But Mickey had never come out with such a pessimistic attitude.

“Are you feeling okay?” You asked Mickey, his eyes trained on you as you sat on the desk across the room. Everything in this ship was so gray; the clothing, the furniture, the bedding. The only color in your life was Mickey, and every time he reprinted, your heart thumped a little more than usual, and your entire nervous system was thrown off. Nothing about his job, or yours, was that normal. How long would you have with this Mickey before he died? How long would you get to know this version?

“I’m feeling fine,” Mickey told you, running a hand over his face. In only two hours, his knuckles were already scuffed up, his hair floppy, and cheeks chapped. In only two hours out of the printer and he looked like he had already been on a mission, “c’mere, baby”

His accent has dissipated, the Midwestern drawl was fleeting in and out of his words now, losing its charm. Where had it gone? You wondered if maybe this Mickey was a fluke, if they hadn’t plugged in his memories right. Regardless of your wariness of this new Mickey, all you wanted to do was be close to him. To feel him, hands pressed against his naked body, becoming one with this new Mickey would surely make the odd feelings go away.

Kicking off your shoes, you crawled across the bed. Your knees sunk into the mattress, your eyes fixated on Mickey like he was a prize you were about to win. With your body pressed against his (too many clothes intercepting what you really wanted to do with him), you found him muzzling his lips against your neck.

“Oh,” you mewled, throwing your head to the side to offer more skin. His lips were harsh against your neck, sucking in the skin and focusing the tip of his tongue as a soft padding in contrast to the harshness of his teeth. Mickey 17 was always so gentle, but this version of him was rigid, like he had been scabbed over in the printing process.

“Feels good, baby?” Mickey hooked his arm beneath you, pulling you on top of him. Your hand found its way to his hair, fingers hooking the strands and pulling just the way Mickey 17 liked. Quickly, Mickey 18 brought his hand to yours, tightening his grip around your wrist.

“Yeah, yeah. Mickey, feels really nice.” You told him, releasing his hair from your grasp. Never had you needed to rediscover Mickey’s interests, every version of him was so aligned with one another. Hesitantly, you looped a finger in the waistband of his pants, tugging them gently with eyes locked on his reaction.

All Mickey 18 did was nod, offering you full access to him. This Mickey felt so much more self assured, like he knew exactly what he was doing to you. This Mickey knew the kind of physical reaction just one glance from him created. It didn’t take too long to get his pants low enough to release his cock. With an eagerness, you stood from the bed and quickly peeled your trousers from your body, then climbed on top of him. The loss of touch was only a few seconds, but it was enough for you to ache.

Mickey 18 wasted no time, lining himself up with your entrance. He painted the tip of his cock over your slit, using your arousal as lube to slide into you. Of course his dick was the same as Mickey 17’s, but it felt different. It curled into a different spot, exploring your insides like a foreign object. Maybe it was considered foreign, but this was Mickey (and somehow not).

“Only two hours out of the fucking printer,” Mickey grunted, thrusting his hips into you at a consistent speed. Every word was on beat, matching the rhythm of his hips fucking into you. Each time he hit that spot, your eyes rolled back, the pent up frustration threatening to spill over. Tightening around his shaft, you listened to his words, “and Mickey 17 is already making my life difficult.”

You paused, your eyes widening as he steadied your hips with both hands. Grabbing at your ass, cupping it fully, your brain was trying to grasp the meaning behind his words. A Mickey never met another Mickey. Just as you opened your mouth to ask what he could possibly mean, he flipped you over. Hitching one of his legs underneath yours, he began rocking into you leisurely. Squeals collected in your throat, falling from your lips as soft moans. This new side of Mickey, the domineering side of Mickey, made you fall apart around his dick.

With fucked out eyes, you gasped for air. The high of your orgasm clouding your brain, because you knew you were going to ask Mickey something, but the train of thought had disappeared as the unexpected orgasm washed through you.

“Christ,” Mickey said, his cock still tucked inside of you as he glanced at the doorway. The shadow of a person reflected in your peripheral vision, and when you turned to the side to get a better glance of who had found you in such a compromising position, the words were caught in your throat.

“Mickey?” You said, eyes bouncing between the doubles you were seeing.

“Yeah,” Mickey 17 said shyly, the Midwestern accent thick and present in his voice. His hand shot to the back of his neck, rubbing the skin uncomfortably as he watched himself— at least, another version of him— inside of you. He looked slightly beat up. The bruises on his face similar to the pattern knuckles might leave behind, while Mickey 18’s knuckles were rugged and bloody.

“I’m guessing you wanna join?” Mickey 18 interjected, the offer empty and filled with humor.

#˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ hunter's journal #mickey barnes x reader #mickey barnes smut #mickey 17 smut #mickey barnes x you #mickey 18 x you #mickey 18 smut #mickey barnes x fem!reader #mickey barnes fanfiction #mickey barnes #doll: mickey #mickey 17 fanfiction #mickey 17 fanfic #mickey 18 x reader #mickey 18 x fem!reader

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redcomet-stims · 5 months ago

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Content warning: harsh colors

🌈🎀🍭 Day 6 of my 100-follower event: I've already made a board of my favorite fashion style (decora), but I'll gladly do it again :3

It's such a fun style in every way oml...I love it with all my heart <3333

Sources:

x | x | x

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liquidlycan · 1 year ago

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hatsune miku!! with like. music notes and neons please!!

HATSUNE MIKU - VOCALOID THEMED STIMBOARD

themes of neons, tech, and music!

cw harsh/flashing colors

requested by anon ^_^

x | x | x x | x | x x | x | x

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artemisiasmuse · 1 month ago

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always known | CH.1

PAIRING: rafe cameron x fem! kook reader

CW: 18+ mdni, smut eventually, angst, mean rafe, jealousy, possessive rafe, kook typical classism (not from y/n tho), abusive family dynamics, not really canon/au, swearing, drinking, no coke tho, ward cameron

SUMMARY: rafe’s childhood best friend y/n returns to figure eight by herself and finds rafe hates her for some reason, their friendship has gone down the drain and they can hardly remain cordial, and there’s one thing causing all of it: why can’t rafe just move on?

TROPE: childhood best friends to enemies to lovers

MASTERLIST

WORD COUNT: 1.8k

next >

“when the fuck did you get back?” those are the first words you hear from your childhood best friend after almost five years of silence. you hadn’t even seen him walk up to where you and sarah were standing on the country club patio. if you were a bit tipsier, you might have even fallen over. the air is thoroughly knocked out of you, not just from his words but also his appearance. he’s grown into his features a bit too well and puberty has made him heads taller than you and fill out his clothes, he looks as intimidating as his word should be. you have to strain your neck to meet his eyes and there isn’t a small smile or any baby fat to soften the blow, rafe is all hard edges and harsh lines with a frown to match. there’s a small part of you that’s grateful he’s even talking to you. as pathetic as it is, you haven’t heard his voice since he dropped off the face of the earth.

the last time you heard it was his stupid voicemail message when you accepted the fact that you had been blocked. you let the familiar azure calm your nerves. even if so much had changed, the color of his eyes, your favorite color remained the same.

“it’s nice to see you too rafe.” as much as you were affected by his words, you didn’t let it show. there was something almost eery how you refused to let him win even now, to let him even see weakness. your response came out smooth and practiced, rafe hated how even now your voice rang between his ears and made his heart skip a beat. he was glaring down at you but the way you said his name, still honeyed by years of friendship, chipped away at his anger. god he was pathetic. he looked away towards the water, trying to remember that you’re the one who left, he should be angry, before looking back at you, willing away any ounce of love left from his stare.

“didn’t mayhew move into your place?” you vaguely remember the family that had bought your old home. rafe knew better than you since he mentioned how he had gotten into a fight with the kid a week after you moved. he’d said he just didn’t get along with him, sarah told you that rafe had it out for the kid as soon as their moving van showed up.

“i’m back by myself, i transferred to OBU.” that was always your plan, do two years at your state school and then transfer to OBU to finish up and stay there. OBU’s marine biology program was nationally recognized and even if he didn’t remember it, you had promised rafe you’d be back.

you remember how you both cried into each other's necks when you told him the news, as soon as your parents told you the only thing you could think of was your best friend. the walk, or in that instance the run, between your houses wasn’t long and you took off immediately. rose had long gotten used to leaving the back door open for you and she didn’t even acknowledge you when you came barreling through it asking for rafe’s whereabouts. “out by the dock.” when you found him you were already in tears, his arms coming around you instantly and holding you tight before you had even said a word. he smelled like seaweed and leather, he smelled like home. as the words left your lips, rafe knew he would never recover from them. three simple words that had somehow destroyed the fragile casing around his heart, piercing through them and leaving him broken forever. “i’m moving.” you both cried for what felt like hours, until you couldn’t any more and all that was left was hiccups, you promised him you’d be back. he promised to visit. rafe always knew those were empty promises. he knew it was over, you would leave and never come back. you’d abandon him like everyone else, he was a lost cause, he never deserved you anyways. but now you were here. and all he felt was anger.

“great another fucking problem to deal with.” you blinked at his words, watching his back as he abruptly left. by comparison the rafe who walked away from you now could never be the rafe who you left on that dock. sarah did her best to remedy the situation, your return was supposed to be a happy affair after all. while she was younger than you and you rarely hung out before, being stuck by rafe’s side mostly, you had stayed friendly over the phone. she knew you were coming back but kept it a secret from everyone like you asked, now she wondered if this was why.

“ignore him, he’s been pissy for…well years!” you shake it off as best as you can, sarah manages to corral all your old friends, but one is clearly missing. there’s a six-foot-something hole in your heart that you desperately try to ignore.

the next week passed with relative ease, you’re so busy adjusting to life in obx again that you hardly notice rafe’s absence. you’d signed on a place, with rose’s help, and your parents had shipped the remainder of your clothes. you met sarah’s new friends and while they don’t greet you with open arms they’re still good company. they’re younger than you and it’s hard to relate to high schoolers when you’re studying for your next exam but they’re less judgmental and superficial then your old friends. by the time the weekend rolls around you’ve moved into your new place and topper invites you to a party at the beach. the kids in figure eight were hardly similar to you but when you were younger you didn’t care where or who you were with, as long as rafe was there you would be okay. now you were standing in the same circle of friends, pretending that you didn’t know one another. you felt more out of place than ever, like the small child who waited for her best friend on the playground when no one else wanted to play with her. but your best friend wasn’t coming, he wasn’t even looking at you. the makeup on your face, the dress clinging to your body, all felt itchy and heavy on you. you wanted to go back to your new home and watch tv and pretend rafe still cared even a little about you even if he blocked your number.

kelce rattled on about some new girl he was talking to when topper started yelling. the “pogues” had crashed the party. you rolled your eyes as topper exclaimed that you should tell them to leave. he’d been on your ass about your new friends and you didn’t give him the satisfaction of a response.

“what?” he questioned, clearly taken back by how little you cared, rafe prepared himself for the inevitable argument to follow. even if he wasn’t looking at you he knew how you reacted. he’d told topper to back off when you went to get a drink, not that he’d ever admit it, but now the issue at hand was quite literally feet away.

“don’t you think it’s kinda corny, this whole ‘kooks’ versus ‘pogues’ thing? i mean we’re not in some shitty 80’s high school movie.” you swigged your beer and topper guffawed, incredulous and animated and you began to wonder maybe you were in a shitty movie. that would explain the nearly comical way rafe was turned away from you just a few feet away. on top of the shame and anger you were feeling from his cold shoulder, topper’s little outburst was solidifying how little you wanted to be here.

“wowww you switched up.” kelce chimed in from the peanut gallery, everyone was enjoying the small drama you provided. you supposed the rich kids of figure eight had little other entertainment.

“nah i always thought it was dumb, he knows.” you gestured towards rafe. it was a bit childish but you refused to acknowledge each other, until now. in hindsight you should have just continued ignoring him. rafe could feel his friend’s gazes turn toward him, rolling his tongue along the inside of his cheek as he turned slightly towards you, leveling you with a blank stare. focusing his full attention on you was a little jarring for both of you, he’d been trying to ignore the way your dress revealed curves he didn’t know existed and you’d been trying to ignore the urge to cry at the vacant look in his eyes.

“maybe you can just leave again since you hate it so much. ya know-go the fuck back to where you came from.” his voice was calm and gravelly, almost as if he didn’t care what you did or the fact that you were here at all. that stung more than his anger. you set down your beer and gained on him, almost chest to chest as your crossed arms lightly grazed his front. he seemed unaffected by your proximity, or the way you glared up at him but you knew him, you knew the twitch of his nose and brow meant he wasn’t. rafe would never concede that the sight of you small and angry, looking like a vision in your baby pink dress, had him thoroughly entranced. you were always beautiful but now that you’d grown up, into a woman, he could barely stand to look at you. his stomach coiled with that wretched feeling he’d spent years ignoring, the cause of it hadn’t been so obvious in a while but now it was glaring at him. the scent of your perfume and skin had put a spell on him, that must have been it.

“fuck you cameron.” he reveled in your anger, the way you practically growled at him. a sick and twisted thought consumed, at least you were looking him in the eye, looking at him at all. he was getting under your skin and he wanted to move in. at least then you couldn’t leave him.

“the door’s that way.” you shoved past him, your shoulder bumping against his chest, spilling a bit of his beer and convincing pope to drop you home in a matter of seconds. rafe’s thoughts spiraled, you could yell at him all night, but going home with pope may as well have been a stab in the back. not that you could have known that. he swallowed down the urge to drag you back by your waist and make you scream at him some more.

a/n: oh boy the angst :< rafe is so mean to reader! this one’s a short one but i wanted to ease everyone into the story, ch.2 will be out tmrw!

taglist: @clar2aa @ggraycelynn @rafestoothbrush @woweewoowa @mattyskies @always4tuesdayss @ashy-kit @chalahyung01 @rafeysslut

#artemisiasmuse #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe cameron headcanons #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron imagine #rafe smut #rafe imagine #rafe fic #rafe cameron smut #rafe obx #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron hard thoughts

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vivwritescrappythings · 9 months ago

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squeeze

tattoo artist!eddie munson x fem!afab!reader

Eddie is your tattoo artist and long term boyfriend, one night you have an idea of how to spice up your next tattoo session.

an: idk why I thought of this but I did

cw: fem and afab reader, needles, tattoos, unsanitary tattoo practices, don’t let anyone do this to you, p in v sex, cockwarming, masturbation, mild dubcon, mentions of marijuana use, i picture this version of eddie as older, masochism, swearing, dirty talk, not proofread.

wc: 2.3k

masterlist

MDNI

—

It was only after a few joints that you could have ever thought this was a marginally good idea. You and Eddie were well baked by the time you stumbled out of his van in the alley, eyes bloodshot and a wide smile on your face. The rest of the tattoo shop was dark as Eddie snuck you in the back door, the two of you giggling like vandals as though it wasn’t his shop. The keys jingled as he tucked them back into his pocket, nudging you toward his station.

He turned on the harsh fluorescent lamps surrounding the leather chair in the center of the small space. Paper screens separated it from the rest of the store, drawings and sketches stuck haphazardly all over the dividers and walls. “You’ve been drawing more,” you murmured, looking over the magnitude of new additions.

Eddie was already wiping down the chair and getting set up, looking over his shoulder at you with a hum of acknowledgment. You took in the way his shoulders filled out his worn Metallica shirt, his jacket hanging on a hook near the back door. There was something about his warm, chocolate-colored eyes that made your heart flutter every time he glanced at you.

“You gonna pick something out or just stare at me?” he asked, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You rolled your eyes, a little too stoned to come up with a response you considered to be clever enough. The wall of flash tattoos beckoned you closer. Eddie had given you countless tattoos at that point, insisting that dating a tattoo artist meant you had to get all your work done by him.

Anyone else would just be cheating.

It was how the two of you met five years ago: you came into the shop with a crumpled piece of paper with a book quote you loved scrawled onto it looking to get your very first tattoo. Eddie had stolen you from the guy who usually took the walk-in clients with a saccharine smile, ushering you to his little sectioned off area and charging you half what he normally would for a tattoo that size. You left with fresh ink and Eddie’s number, and the rest was history.

You squinted up at dozens of drawings crudely taped to the wall, admiring the smooth linework and the variety. There were a few from his Hellfire days, fleshed out Dungeons & Dragons monsters and sets of dice high up near the ceiling. The rest were the typical subjects: skulls and flowers and doodles of food and ghosts.

It was hard to decide, your arms folding over your chest as you worried your lower lip with your teeth. Normally it was a quick decision, you’d pick something off the wall or had an idea of your own and Eddie would be off to the races.

That time it took Eddie pulling out the battered notebook he insisted he did his best work in, his name scratched into the black cover. “How about this one? Been workin’ on it, thought it would look good on you,” he murmured, flipping it open to a page in the middle.

The drawing was beautiful, detailed and delicate while still fitting with the rest of your tattoos. You realized that Eddie was listening when you told him you wanted to tattoo your sternum a few months ago, the pages littered in drawings that were suited to the smooth patch of skin over the bone. As always, he knew what you wanted more than you did.

“Yeah, it’s perfect,” you finally said, tracing it with your fingertip.

“Yeah? You sure?” Eddie asked, already rifling through drawers to put together a stencil.

You nodded, biting your lower lip as you sat back on the leather chair. “Matches everything else you’ve put on me,” you said, making yourself comfortable as he went off to trace out a stencil.

You fidgeted with the well-worn Corroded Coffin shirt you were wearing, running your fingers over the torn-up hem and looking up at the ceiling tiles Eddie had painted black.

Meeting Eddie must have been the luckiest moment of your life. You never thought that you’d find someone, for some reason you’d been convinced that you were beyond what anyone wanted—destined to be the old lady with the cats at the end of the street. But Eddie wanted you, he wanted you fiercely and with a passion that was almost startling sometimes.

“Alright, dove, shirt off,” Eddie said, startling you out of your thoughts. He rounded the corner with the stencil in hand, chocolatey eyes focused on you.

You complied, slipping the shirt off your head and tossing the fabric onto a nearby folding chair. The cold air in the shop made you shiver with just your pajama shorts on. You’d forgone wearing a bra, the trip to the tattoo parlor borne from a spontaneous idea you had in the living room of your shared apartment.

“Never gonna get tired of that,” Eddie mumbled, staring at your chest as you settled back onto the cold leather. You rolled your eyes as your face started to heat up, part of you wanting to cover your chest with your hands.

Eddie stood between your legs, rolling over the silver tray that held the little containers of ink and gloves and his machine. He’d already washed his hands, his fingers were cold as he shaved off the smattering of vellus hairs covering your skin. You squeaked when he wiped down your skin with an alcohol pad. His tongue poked out when he concentrated, his brow furrowed as he started to apply the stencil.

He pressed firm to get it to transfer, pulling the strip of paper away and reaching for a mirror for you to see it. It was weird to see yourself reflected back in the small hand mirror. You sat up to properly inspect how it looked between your tits, the U-shaped stretch marks between them catching and shining in the fluorescent light. The mirror tilted up, letting you see your own bloodshot, hazy gaze in the mirror. The blunts Eddie had rolled earlier were strong.

“Looks great, Eds,” you said, lips quirking into a grin as you settled back on the chair. Eddie hummed, letting the mirror drop with a clatter on his drawing space as he went to wash his hands again.

He came back ready, black latex gloves pulled over his hands and hair tied back in a low bun at the nape of his neck.

Bony hips knocked the insides of your thighs apart, your boyfriend curling down over you. “You still feeling up to the rest of this?” he asked, a brow lifting until it disappeared under his frizzy bangs. You were silent for a minute, taking in the sincerity of his expression. “You don’t have to if you’re not feeling right, dove. I can just do the tattoo and we can go home.”

You furrowed your brow, shaking your head and blurting out protests a little too eagerly. It made him grin, boyish charm returning to his stubble-ridden face as though he wasn’t a day out of high school.

“If you feel uncomfortable, what do you say?” Eddie prompted softly, leaning forward to nudge his nose against your temple. He didn’t touch you with his hands, keeping them sterile.

“Yoo-hoo,” you mumbled a little sheepishly. Eddie picked it, the safe word always made you roll your eyes.

He hummed sweetly, pressing a kiss just above your eyebrow. “That’s right,” Eddie said, the simple praise already making you feel warm.

You bit your lower lip as you looked up at him, watching him get the machine going and getting ink on the needles. It felt like your body was buzzing with anticipation, your knees squeezing at his waist.

“Help me out, can’t get my hands dirty,” Eddie said, twisting to fuss with something on the tray next to him. You didn’t care about what he was grabbing, only reaching forward to loop your fingers in the waistband of the sweatpants he was wearing. On a normal day he wouldn’t be caught dead here in sweatpants.

The original idea had come from you. Something in your stoned mind combined to make you ask Eddie if he’d ever thought about cockwarming while giving a tattoo. He looked at you like you’d grown a second head, but fifteen minutes later he wanted to bring your fantasy to life.

“Been so fucking hard ever since you brought this up,” Eddie hissed through his teeth as you pulled his sweatpants down over his cock. It slapped up against his stomach, the tip flushed red and already leaking. You swallowed thickly, reaching out to wrap your hand around him.

The soft moan coming from Eddie’s pink lips was gratifying in more ways than you expected, satisfaction making you feel warm as you looked up at him through your lashes.

“You want me to take my shorts off?” you asked quietly, tilting your head to one side. There was a thrill associated with being naked in the tattoo shop. Of course, it was the middle of the night as no one would have reason to be there, but it still felt scandalous all the same.

“Yeah,” he said, the harsh buzzing of the tattoo machine starting as he touched the needle to the ink. The sound was familiar to you now, part of you associating it with Eddie. “It’ll be complicated to do this if you leave them on.”

You rolled your eyes, letting go of him to strip yourself of your shorts. He cursed under his breath when he saw you completely naked on the chair. Brown eyes traveled over every curve and slope of your body, taking it all in with reverence as his tongue poked out to run over his bottom lip.

There was a brief pause, the two of you waiting for the other to do something. Eddie ended up taking charge.

“Play with yourself for me,” he mumbled, staring down at your cunt. His gloved fingers twitched. “Get her nice and wet.”

Your face heated up at his request, bashfulness binding your chest together for a moment. It was impossible not to comply with Eddie’s request, your fingers finding their place between your legs. You touched yourself without fanfare, your fingertips settling on either side of your clit and rubbing in tight circles.

His gaze was locked on your cunt, chin pressed to his chest and lips parted. Normally you would be embarrassed under that kind of focus, but the awe shining in Eddie’s eyes made your anxiety slip away.

Your movements were practiced and smooth, sending electricity up and down your spine. It was easy to get turned on, your breaths eventually becoming pants and wetness building up around your fingers. His jaw was clenching, you knew he wanted to pull your fingers away and touch you himself.

He huffed, swallowing hard before directing his gaze to your eyes. “Alright, let’s do this,” he said, stepping in closer between your legs. “Before I just decide to ruin my sterile environment and fuck you the right way.”

The idea was enticing, making you bite your lip as you considered. But you already came all the way down here and had the stencil placed and ink in the tattoo gun. And you wanted to make your fantasies happen.

You grabbed Eddie’s cock, your wet fingers smearing down the length of it. Of all the times you fucked, you almost never were the one to guide him inside of you. It was a bit clumsy as you dragged his tip through the soaked seam of your cunt, nudging against the swollen bud of your clit a few times.

Finally you hit your mark, Eddie’s deep moan filling the air as he slotted himself inside of you with a strong thrust. The patch of dark, soft curls at his base brushed against your already sensitive clit. The stretch made you see stars. Your head rolled back against the leather chair, a breathy whine pulling from you as he rubbed against every gummy ridge and gooey spot inside of you.

“Eddie,” you whimpered, brows pulling together as you looked up at him. He seemed to be going through a similar sense of euphoria, his long lashes fluttering against his cheekbones as he breathed into the feeling.

His eyes open, pupils expanding like ink in water as he curled over you, readying the tattoo machine over your chest. He blinked hard, rutting softly against you once… twice… before steadying. The concentration was incredible to witness, his expression hardening and jaw flexing again.

“You ready, dove?” he asked, briefly glancing up at you before staring at the patch of stenciled skin like he could burn a tattoo into it with just his eyes.

“Yeah,” you breathed, feeling like your entire body was made up of TV static as you willed yourself to relax on the chair.

He nodded, the familiar buzz of the tattoo gun starting again. It pressed to your skin like fire, the vibration carrying from the gun all the way down into the flat bone of your sternum. You held your breath without meaning to, toes curling.

Eddie groaned, a smile finding its way onto his face. “You’re squeezing so fucking tight around me,” he said, voice a bit raspier than normal.

You made a conscious effort to relax, staring up at the ceiling and tapping the tips of your fingers along the sides of the chair. “Sorry,” you murmured, a giggle echoing from you as Eddie resumed the line he was tattooing.

Each stab of the needles kept your body alight, teetering you on the edge of pain and pleasure. “You're such a masochist.”

You smiled, your gaze hazy and your pussy fluttering a bit as you took shallow breaths. “I know, it’s gonna be a long night.”

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #reader insert #eddie munson x afab!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #tattoo artist!eddie

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gotta-winwin · 2 months ago

Text

⭐ starring: jeonghan

💌 genre/wc: angst, fluff / 1.5k

💬 preview: jeonghan held your heart in the palm of his hands, his fingertips connected to the heartstrings that led to your chest.

tw/cw: fwb!jeonghan x reader, timeskips, abstract sex, messy love, mentions of grief and depression, growing old together

🪽fic rating: 18+

☁️ masterlist & a/n: based on the song black friday by tom odell, i've always loved the idea of finding the right person yet always having to wait for the right time. this is a part of my 500 followers celebration event -- our last instalment before february!

p.s thank you so much to @lovetaroandtaemin and @diamonddaze01 for beta reading ! my lovely wife tara also made the banner <33

Breathe in.

It was the middle of the night but you were still awake, hovering by your phone as you waited, humming some nonsensical tune as you eyed your phone.

Tonight was Black Friday, and Jeonghan might’ve been able to scrape by the afternoon, but you knew he wouldn’t survive the night. Not without you.

The phone rang. Two sharp notes. Just like you expected it would.

“Hello?” You raised the phone to your ear, listening carefully to the other end. Harsh pants and deep breaths reached you, as distant music echoed through the phone.

“Y/N.” Jeonghan’s voice was scratchy and harmed, not at all like his usual angelic tone. “I-”

“Send me your location.” You knew what he was here for.

Breathe out.

Jeonghan encroached on your territory like old companions would, chucking his shoes off in a lonely corner before enveloping you, arms closing around your waist as he buried himself close. And as much as you knew he did not belong to you, you couldn’t help but relax. It was neither your fault or his that the embrace always felt similarly shaped to home.

“Y/N.” Your name fell from his lips in a breathless whisper.

The skin around his eyes were colored the shade of red.

“Hannie.” Pulling him into your living room, you gently pushed him down onto the couch, moving into the kitchen to make him a cup of tea. Green tea. A splash of sugar. No lemon. Just the way he preferred it to be.

Silence was a precious commodity in your time with Jeonghan, as the two of you fed off each other's silences alone. Jeonghan would feel his mind slow, his tears fade, his lungs unruffle and breathe once again. You would feel waves of heartache and lingering pain.

Jeonghan was that vice of yours, something unattainable and unjustified. Jeonghan came to you in moments of grief -- and you knew it wasn’t right to take advantage of that vulnerability.

You told yourself again and again, maybe next time. Maybe next time you’d see each other in a better setting, one where you could approach him and tell him how you felt.

The time never came.

And so, you loved Jeonghan from afar, gentle hands tending to invisible wounds as your heart laid out on the table, bruised and fresh for the picking.

Breathe in.

Jeonghan worshiped you like he was trying to forget himself. Fervently, desperately, hips thrusting in time with your shared moans, his eyes trained on you like it was only the two of you in the world. Grief would be washed away with mind blowing pleasure and the first spark of love, if only momentarily.

When all was finished, he’d collapse beside you, sweaty skin pressing against your back as he whispered his quiet thanks, the well meant praises he promised were only for your ears to hear. He’d run his slender fingers through your hair, basking in the light your happiness gave him.

But like many good things, you and Jeonghan were always momentary.

Breathe out.

Your breath hits the cold bitter air as you watch his back profile, overnight bag slung over his shoulder as he hailed down a cab. His smile is taunt and weak as he waves, the nostalgia of your face already sinking deep into his bones.

He’ll miss you. Just never enough to call.

Breathe, again.

By the time the next Black Friday rolls around, you’ve moved apartments. No longer being in the same city as Jeonghan irks you, the feeling is strange and unsettling. You worry about him more than you’d care to admit. How he’s doing, what life currently looks like for him. Jeonghan lives in your mind far more than someone who’s just a friend should.

The phone rings. Once. Twice. While you’ve changed everything about your life ten times over since you’ve left highschool, your number is the only thing that stays constant.

Your finger hovers over the green. You hesitate. You know who’s on the other end of the line. Your sleep paralysis demon. Your ghost. The boy who’s been haunting you all your life.

“Jeonghan?” You speak into your phone.

You pick up. You always do.

“Y/N.” He breathes out. “I’m in your city.” A pause, and you hear the sound of partygoers behind him. “Can I come over?”

The cycle repeats.

Breathe, for the last time.

Jeonghan asks to fly you over. There’s a slight shift in the way he frames his words, a bit more bashful than you were used to him being.

“Can you come over, baby? I’ll fly you to my city.”

Jeonghan had never once crossed the line of calling you baby.

But of course you had said yes. You always, fucking, did.

“Of course.” You had replied, already looking at how many shifts you could cancel for the weekend. “I’d love to come see you.”

Breathe, bitch.

“I think I fell in love with you.” He admits, halfway through a bottle of red wine. “A little bit. Somewhere along the way of-” He gestures at the air between the two of you. “-this.”

“What?” Your heart beats, so loud you swear he could hear it.

“I’m in love with you.” A cheeky smile graces across his face and his eyes twinkle under the dim kitchen lights of his high rise apartment. The moon is full tonight.

“You’re-” You choke on your words. “You’re in love with me? Since when?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. It just sort of, happened.”

And although you’ve played out this moment in time a hundred times in your head, what you feel next surprises you. You don’t feel love, no. You feel red, hot, anger.

“You’re in love with me?” The words come out loud, unrestrained and full of disbelief. “Oh, why? Because it’s now convenient for you?”

Jeonghan stares at you with his mouth parted.

“I know you were grieving- but I don’t know- it didn’t hit you that maybe it was wrong to keep me on your every beck and call for these past ten years? Showing up whenever you need a woman’s comfort and touch to help you forget?”

“You didn’t have to pick up.”

A rippling laugh escapes you, along with a scoff. “I love you, Yoon Jeonghan. Of course I always picked up.”

“You love me?” Because of course, that was the only thing he heard.

You blink, taken aback by how soft his voice suddenly is. “I do.” It wasn’t hard to admit it anymore, not when it had been the one thing defining you for so long.

Worlds collide when your lips touch, his chapped ones clinging onto every inch he could taste. It felt different -- entirely whole and innocent. Like playground lovers learning what intimacy felt like for the first time.

“I wanted to wait before I could let myself love you.” Jeonghan tells you after, lying in bed as he once again, threads his slender fingers through your hair. “To pull myself into some semblance of a man, a man that deserved to love you. Who could.”

You stared into his eyes, knowing he wasn’t finished talking.

“Tell me.” You whispered. “Let me in your head.”

But the grace period his grief had given him was gone.

“I love you.” Is all he says, turning over to pull the sheets closer around him. “Remember that.”

You would look back, and recall how it felt as if he was trying to remember it himself.

Breathe deep.

It was only decades later did Jeonghan finish his thoughts, the same ones he had begun when the two of you were still bumbling adults, stumbling through life with your hands outstretched.

“I was jealous.” He voices out one day, a seemingly unimportant wednesday evening. He sits on the rocking chair with his cup of tea, an old woolen blanket tucked over his lap. His reading glasses lie delicately on his nose as he looks at you.

At first you don’t understand. “What?” Perhaps you hadn’t heard him correctly, your hearing had been worsening with age.

“Back then,” Jeonghan continues. “When we were still in our twenties. I was jealous of how brightly you shined. You could walk into a room and light it up like a beacon.” He laughed, his body shaking with energy. “You woke me up better than any medicine could. I was this- dark ball of hatred and grief and uncertainty towards the world-”

Jeonghan had changed over the years since then. Marriage, kids, and growing old had changed him. Falling in love with you had changed him entirely.

“You were my buoy.” He says definitively. “And I’m sorry that it took me nearly ten years to realize that I needed you. Loved you.”

It felt like another lifetime.

Reaching over from your own chair, you took his hand in yours -- his fingers no longer perfect but still just as slender. “That was eons ago, my love. And we have spent much more than ten years together.”

Breathe.

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