#gets on top of him while hes lying down kind of kiss

[tarithenurse]

Pirate's Bounty II

Fandom: MCU AU

Pairing/starring: 1st mate!Bucky x Pirate princess!reader

Word count: 1128

Content: Smut

A/N: Woopsie! Wrote a part 2. Hope you’re okay with that.

Pirate’s Bounty II

Sharing a room at the inn, the Pirate’s Cove, was Bucky’s idea of safety. Falling asleep fully dressed after the ball was not planned but she has slept wonderfully albeit rather brief.

Waking up, [Y/N]’s vaguely aware of the soft light coming through the curtains from the courtyard beyond. What’s more pressing, however, is the weight over her waist that holds her warm and snug against a hard shape behind her. Glancing around, she’s soon verified that it’s Bucky who has scooped her into his arm and drifted off on the comfortable bed before she woke.

Lying as still as she can, the captain considers disentangling herself but...it actually feels lovely. Safe. So instead she remains where she is, fingertips slowly caressing his knuckles until the light of dawn starts to fill the room and he wakes from his rest too.

Yawning. Stretching against her form. She can feel his muscles flex and his hip push against her behind, causing her to remember that night on the deck.

“Good morning,” the young woman whispers.

“Morning.” He pulls her closer, then freezes at the realization. But: “Shit, I fell asleep!”

She twists to look at him. “That’s what you take from this?”

He doesn’t bother to look sheepish even as he maintains his grip. “Figured I’d feel if you tried to sneak away.”

There’s a certain logic to it, of course, as offensive as it may be to be called out on something she very well might have done just months ago. But now no longer.

“I know I can’t do that,” she admits, turning her head away.

“You’ll get your freedom back some day,” he offers surprisingly kind.

She sighs. “And until then you’ll watch my back.”

“Please!” he grins mischievously, “I’ll watch all of you.”

“Bucky!” But she can’t help laughing softly.

He bends down, finding her mouth with his lips even as he mumbles a “pardon me, m’lady” against her.

She’s soft and pliable, greedily taking what he offers even as his large hand begins to roam, slipping under the soft top to explore the swell of her breasts before sliding along her hip and slowly but surely hoisting up the skirt.

“Get rid of this,” he growls, giving up on the many thin layers that keep sliding back.

[Y/N] gets to her feet, suddenly insecure but also driven by a need she’s only felt a few times now. Slipping the skirt down, she steps out of it as it pools on the floor, leaving her in naught but the top and her undies and that top is the next to go, slowly lifted over her head to bare her form to a hungry looking 1st mate. She’s about to get back into the bed when he shakes his head.

“All of it,” he demands.

Stepping back, she slides the little bit of modesty she has left down her legs, revealing all of her.

“And now?” she asks, voice whispier than she wants.

Getting over to her, Bucky allows his hands to brush down her arms before skimming up her sides to cup her breasts once more.

“Those bastards have no idea what they’re missing out on,” he growls, referring to her suitors

“Please don’t make me think of them now,” [Y/N] pleads.

He grins cockily. “Oh, I’ll take your mind off things.”

Next thing she knows, she’s been more or less tossed onto the bed, automatically spreading her legs to cradle Bucky between them even as he holds himself off of her.

This time the kiss is hungry. Searing. All teeth and tongue, little bites that wander down her jaw and onto her neck while her fingers tangle in his hair. She gasps when he takes a nipple in his mouth, suckling gently but hard enough to sting just a little and she knows she’s done for as the pressure within her increases, begging for more. Like a knot wanting to be cut.

But for one as brusque and direct, Bucky takes his time teasing and winding her up until she’s a whining mess, begging for more although his mouth and hands have been everywhere.

“More?” he double checks, looking up from where he’s kneeling between her legs, lips glistening from her juices. “Are you certain?”

She whimpers. “Yes. More. There must be more.”

About ready to cry when he steps out of the bed, the young woman is quickly silenced as she sees him untie his trousers revealing something she’s only seen once in real life and that in a different state. Now his cock stands erect, proud. Bobbing slightly at the newfound freedom but mostly scaring her with the sheer size.

“Come here,” he steps closer, reaching for her hand.

With him, she touches his erection for the first time, feeling how silken the skin is despite the hardness of the member. She explores, learning how it pulses when she touches beneath the head that’s a dark purple and slowly it becomes less scary.

Making her scoot over, Bucky lies down and guides his lover on top of him, slowly showing her how to pump the cock between her hands until she finds a rhythm that makes his eyes fall shut and the large man groan in pleasure.

“Fuck yeah...”

But he doesn’t allow her to continue, instead repositioning her with the tip of the cock nestled in between her legs right at the entrance to her cunt.

“Take it slow,” he guides her, “a bit at a time.”

Her heart is hammering in her chest as she slowly sinks onto him, spearing herself on the blunt tip. The stretch burns but it’s delicious too and each inch earns her growled praises from Bucky. Rocking back and forth, she eventually can’t take any more, she feels, and when she looks down, she finds that she’s fully seated on his cock. So full.

“Yeah?” he asks her.

“Fuck,” she sighs, gently gyrating the hips to really feel him in her heat.

Large hands find her hips, help her find a rhythm again. Slow and steady up and down until her thighs are burning and her body tenses and she can’t breathe or see but only arch her back in ecstasy.

“So fucking beautiful,” she vaguely hears him growl.

Then her world spins and she finds her beneath him, legs wrapped around his hips that move with a new purpose, bringing her high once more at the same time as he stutters in the movements and growls into her neck something guttural. Something primal.

Bucky manages not to collapse onto the considerably smaller female, instead rolling them so she rests on top. There, they just lie, catching their breaths.

“That was...” [Y/N] tries to articulate, “that was...amazing.”

“Fuck yeah it was,” the 1st mate agrees.

[musubiki]

also a fun tidbit regarding the mochi/lime relationship thats still a beta idea but i think i like it: she actually did kiss him right before she left for the timeskip!!

it was under the pretext of pom telling her "You need to leave tonight and not have anyone follow you so do whatever you have to do to make sure none of your guild follows you or finds out where we're going."

and mochi knows that oscar and coco? theyre in different areas of the city, she could leave without them knowing she was gone until they came to find her. but lime? hes right there. and especially since at this point hes very i-want-to-cuddle-with-you-every-night, its gonna be hard to run away without him waking up/finding out very fast

so she goes to madam springs to get some kind of knock-someone-out-for-hours kind of medicine (since her usual knock-out spells wont work on him)

and she COULDVE just dropped it in his water or something but...,,,..she figured this might be the last time she sees him...ever. so.,..anyway. she kissed him (and gave him the medicine to knock him out)

and its SUPPOSED to be the kind of medicine that makes the person forget it happened when they wake up, but apparently that part of the medicine is optional and something madam springs got from a witchs potion, so lime DOES remember, and it LINGERS with him FOREVER

(also this is good because when the m34th asks him why he wants the cat witch he can say "Payback, i guess." which they interpret as "ooh violence." but in his head hes like "I am kissing her the moment I get my hands on her again I swear to god.")

[schrodingerscougar]

Note: Wow, the roommate!Simon story blew up. Anyway, here's part 2.

Following his conversation with Johnny, Simon begins to think. He begins to consider the possibility that maybe, just maybe, he’s developing feelings for you. Why else would he be so protective and mad when the sergeant talks this way about you? The thought scares him at first.

For one, being near him is a death sentence, he saw that with his family. He can’t even imagine surviving losing someone he loved again. Then there is another thing, the fact he isn’t sure you would return his feelings. If you didn’t, as he suspects, living with you would be torture, and he’s honestly too lazy to look for a new place to stay.

The next time he arrives home in the middle of the day, the apartment is empty since you’re at your workplace most probably. Not seeing your face brighten at the sight of him makes his heart ache, but he knows you’ll be home in two or three hours, so he can most certainly survive that by lying down to catch up on sleep. He leaves a post-it for you on the small table next to the front door where you always put your keys, warning you that he’s back home.

He’s woken by the smell of fresh coffee and something sweet. When he checks the clock on his bedside, he notices it’s past seven, which means he slept a good four hours without interruptions. The new record of the past weeks as the most he slept peacefully was two hours tops. He climbs out of bed and goes to the living room, surprised to see you in the kitchen, humming a song to yourself as you admire the neatly cut brownies on the kitchen island.

“You’re awake!” you exclaim happily, quickly pressing a button on the coffee machine to make him some coffee too, then pick up an empty plate and put a slice of brownie on it. “Welcome home. Here, try this. I thought you might use some homemade things after being away for so long.”

That damn smile of yours. It’s wide, happy, and it easily warms his heart and makes him smile too. Your good mood is infectious and he finds himself stuffing the cookie into his mouth as he stands next to you, nudging your side with his hip playfully. “It’s perfect, thank you,” he says while chewing, earning a roll of your eyes. You hate it when someone talks with their mouth full, so he quickly swallows the remains and goes, “Sorry.”

You shake your head with a laugh then turn away to get his coffee. Simon can’t help but wonder if this is how things would always be if you were his wife, if you would be this kind and caring all the time. He certainly could get used to this. He wouldn’t believe he deserves all the love, but he would definitely enjoy your attention.

“What got you thinking so hard?”

Simon lets out a questioning hum before realizing he zoned out for a while. “You,” he replies honestly.

“Me?”

“Mm-hmm.” Before you could ask more questions, he moves in front of you, trapping you between the kitchen island and his body as he leans down to you. “I had an interesting conversation with someone and it got me thinking while I was gone,” he says with his lips moving so close he almost kisses you. “Do you have any idea how much I miss you when I’m deployed? How many times do I wonder what you’re doing while I’m away?”

It’s easy to tell, especially from this close, that your heart is racing and your breath is caught in your throat as you watch him. Your eyes are moving back and forth between his lips and his eyes, unable to decide what to focus on. You’re both under a spell that he doesn’t want to break, in fact he wants this moment to last forever, this anticipation before he finally makes up his mind to kiss you. He wants to do it, but he can’t help but think about whether or not you would be against it.

Maybe he thinks too much, maybe his brain is too focused on the negative thoughts, and before he knows it, you move your head to capture his lips with yours in a slow and sensual kiss. Simon is aware that he has issues. He understands that his brain is only on high alert because deep down he doesn’t believe he deserves your attention. After all, he’s not a good man. Well, not always. He does his job like a good little soldier, but the lines are blurry between good and bad.

He knows that you know this too. Shortly after he moved in and found out what he did for a living, you had a lot of questions, many that he simply wasn’t allowed to answer. But you probably sensed that he was keeping things to himself, certain aspects of this position that civilians would never understand. He didn’t want to scare you away, he didn’t want you to throw him out, so he kept his mouth shut. You knew that and never pried for more information.

When your nails dig into the skin on his back in a desperate attempt to pull him closer, Simon finally returns to the moment, returning your delicious kiss while his hands grab your ass and help you on the counter behind you. His lips trail from your lips to the shell of your ear, whispering praises until he feels your hands moving to his belt.

As much as he wants that, he knows he has to stop you. So he reaches down to grab your hands, pulling them away and lacing his fingers with yours as he kisses the tip of your nose. “Not yet, love. Let’s go on a proper date first, yeah?” he asks you with a small smile.

You whine, then you beg for more, asking him why you have to go on a date when you've been living together for over a year now. He tells you that the reason is simple; he spent a bigger part of it away from home so you have to get to know each other.

“I know you, Simon,” you push on, your fingers tracing the tattoos on his forearm as you speak. When you see the determination in his eyes, you finally let out a sigh of defeat and say, “Okay, fine. Let's go on a date first. But don't even think about something fancy. Let's keep it simple.”

With a short laugh, he leans down to give you a quick kiss. “Understood.”

Later in the evening, way past eleven, the two of you finally say goodnight and he returns to his room. There's a message waiting on his phone, one that came from Johnny. “I’ll send her a DM if you won't introduce me,” it says.

“Better not. She's taken,” he replies.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

breeding session

words: 1.5k

warnings: 18+ only! smut, somnophilia, kind of dubcon?, established relationship (theyre married), unprotected sex, p in v sex, fingering, breeding, pregnancy mentions

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog

rafe hums the ending of the song that was playing in the car as he enters the house, tossing his keys into the tray that catches all the junk upon entering your home. he toes his shoes off, eyes searching for you.

usually you'd run up to rafe the second you hear the door open, greeting him with a kiss and asking him how his day was. you've been married for almost a year, and still feel the same excitement every time you see him, the spark of exhilaration that he brings out in you.

“baby?” rafe calls softly as he moves through the house, not wanting to wake you if you decided to nap while he was out golfing. he knows you get so sleepy, almost always around the same time of day, and while you manage to power through the tiredness some days, most of the time you succumb and end up taking a nap so deep that you are near unwakeable.

rafe looks for you in the living room before heading up the stairs, smiling to himself when he sees you lying on the bed on top of the covers, legs curled up as you doze.

rafe doesn't bother to quiet his footsteps as he heads over to give you a kiss on the top of the head, smoothing his hand over your hair. he knows how hard it is to wake you up during these naps, so there's no way some noises from him would pull you from your slumber. sometimes he worries even a fire alarm wouldn't get you up.

rafe takes off his golf shirt to change into something new, keeping his eyes on you, your small body on his bed. he frowns at your flat stomach, covered by a soft dress that you like to wear around the house due to the warm temperatures in the outer banks. you've been trying to get pregnant for almost a month now, currently with no success. you and rafe had what you expected to be a long conversation about the right time to have kids, but turned out to be very short when you were on the exact same page.

rafe sighs as he moves towards the closet doors to toss his shirt in the hamper, again turning to look back at you as he unbuttons his pants, shoving them down his legs. rafe thinks he spots something, kicking the pants away as he moves to the bed to inspect closer.

he crawls from the bottom of the bed to where you are curled up, letting out a low moan when he flips the bottom of your dress up, the flowy fabric moving easily to reveal that you weren't wearing any panties underneath.

rafe leans back to get a better view as he places one hand on your ass, pulling it upward to reveal your cunt to him, which was hidden by your thighs.

rafe instantly starts to swell in his pants, his eyes glancing between your flat stomach that he feels should be swelled with his child already, and your delicate cunt, such a gorgeous soft peach color that it's nearly irresistible to him.

rafe pauses to think to himself. you've made it very clear that you want to be pregnant, and surely he would just be doing his husbandly duty if he fucked you right now, filling you up and letting his cum take while you slept peacefully.

rafe gets off the bed to take his underwear off, not touching his cock until he's back kneeling on the mattress. he plants his hand on your ass again, your pussy looking delectable as his free hand grips his dick, beginning to stroke gently. 

he moves along his length until his cock reaches full hardness, rubbing his thumb against your skin to calm you, but you don't even budge, even as rafe let's out low moans, his hips pushing forward into his hand, fucking his fist faster as he imagines being inside you once you are pregnant, well and truly his.

rafe let's go of his cock before he cums too soon. he never had a problem with bursting early before you, but something about your perfect little body, something about your sweet innocence that turns him on to such an extreme amount. 

rafe keeps one hand holding your thighs parted and uses his other to rub his fingers along your folds. he feels your wetness start to grow, your bodies response to the touch, even as your mind is still in dream land.

rafe takes one slender finger, gently pushing inside your entrance, his cock pulsing when he feels how tightly you are squeezing his digit. he twists his hand so his thumb can rub over your clit. rafe expects you to move from this, at least readjust a little, but you lay perfectly still, eyelids not even fluttering.

“fuck, such a perfect pussy.” rafe says to himself, constantly impressed by how wondrous you are. he adds a second finger to your cunt, knowing he would usually work you with one for longer, but you are so relaxed from being in a deep slumber that he knows the stretch isn't painful.

rafe pulls his fingers out, tongue greedily licking your juices up before returning to your pussy. rafe questions laying against the mattress and shoving his face between your thighs and spending however long it takes you to wake up with his mouth licking your folds and sucking on your clit, but the need to fill you up, to breed you, is simply too strong.

rafe scissors his fingers inside of you, watching as your pussy opens up to accommodate him. he licks over his hand again to taste you, even going back to your cunt to swipe his fingertips through your folds, needing even more of your juices on his tongue.

he takes his cock in his hand, rubbing the head through your now slick folds, so warm from being squished in between your thighs while you napped. rafe presses against your entrance, moving slowly as to not wake you as he sinks his cock in.

you make your first noise since rafe came home, a soft little mewl as his cock bottoms out inside your cunt, but your eyes remain firmly closed.

rafe places both his hands on your hips, keeping you in the curled up position that he knows you love to sleep in as he begins to rock into you, not wanting to thrust too roughly pull you out of your nap.

rafe grunts when you squeeze your pussy around him subconsciously. he can feel that you are just getting even wetter, your body calling and craving him even as you are passed out.

he begins to move faster, but keeps himself from fully snapping his hips inside of you, hoping that allows you to remain at rest even while he gets himself closer to cumming.

rafe imagines you once you finally get pregnant, tummy swollen full and breasts heavy. he can't wait to make you a mom, to fulfill that dream of yours, and to raise the best kid. he knew the second he met you that you were the one for him, and he worked hard to get his life on track to meet your standards.

rafe moves a hand to your pussy, rubbing over your clit. he knows you won't be able to orgasm while sleeping, but he at least wants to make you feel good, hoping whatever he is doing is translating to what you're dreaming about.

rafe moves faster now that you've shown what you can sleep through, his cock moving at a blistering pace, leaving your cunt red instead of the delectable peach.

his cock swells inside of you, unable to hold back any longer. rafe can't help himself, looking down at you, his beautiful peaceful sleeping wife, about to get her cunt flooded without even knowing it.

rafe pushes his cock as deep in as if can go, pushing against your cervix as he releases all of the cum he possibly can, your cunt tightening around him, milking his cock clean as you squirm slightly for the first time, but manage to stay asleep.

rafe stays buried in you as he softens, not wanting to pull out yet and let any cum escape. once his breathing has returned to normal, rafe pulls out, his cock flopping down against his thigh.

he spreads your cheeks again, looking at your cunt as a dollop of his cum leaks out. he pushes it back in with his finger instantly, thrusting a few times to fuck it into you.

he flips the skirt back over your bum before getting off the bed and heading to the bathroom for a shower, smiling to himself as he feels like this was the time, this was the breeding session that would get you pregnant.

you wake up thirty minutes later, rafe still in the shower enjoying the hot water. you rub your eyes before stretching with a yawn, wondering why your cunt is so sticky.

[atsumwah]

butterflies

featuring : iwazumi hajime, miya atsumu, suna rintaro , matsukawa issei, hinata shoyo & sugawara koushi

notes : just things he does that gives you butterflies

when iwaizumi lies down on the couch, he likes to pull you with him and make you settle on top of him. he loves feeling your body against his and just being your pillow in general literally does not care how much you weigh or if you're afraid of being heavy. if you try to wiggle out, he'll cup your ass and make you stay.

atsumu has a tendency to trail kisses down your neck when you're doing something. he especially likes doing it when you're at the stove cooking. something about how he cages you with his arms and slowly kisses down your neck makes your knees turn to jelly <3

matsukawa likes to hold you by the hip. if you're out in public, his hand slowly trails down from your waist to your hip and holds you close no matter where you are. you constantly find his hands drifting even lower and by then you have to shoot him a glare to make sure he behaves.

suna does that thing where he leans down closer to you when you talk. it doesn't matter if you're sitting down next to him or lying back on top of him, he will move his face closer to yours and look you in the eyes while you're talking. he knows it flusters you so when he does it, he has this cheeky smile on his face

i fully believe hinata likes to lift you up just for funsies. like you could be doing the dishes and he needs to grab something from the cupboard above you so he'll lift you up to gently put you to the side. or when you're too lazy to get up and shower, mans will literally carry you on his shoulders like a baby. or when you're in the pool, he easily slips his hands on your hips to bring you up his shoulders. you weigh nothing to him bro

suga likes to tilt your head up when he wants your attention. like not in a demanding way but more like a look at me and only me kind of way. he has this smirk on his face when tilts your head up with his pointer finger, face inching closer to yours as he grabs your attention. literal definition of looks like an angel but an absolute teaseeeeee

[salfishermustdie]

sal fisher headcanons

i've literally never been so horrendously down bad for a character before.. so i HAD to share my head canons for sal :3

CW: NSFW AHEAD!!

fluff <3

♡ he would try to teach you guitar, even if you arent very good at it...

♡ if you have sh scars, he'd kiss them over and over and over again, no matter where they are

♡ blushes over everything you do, any little touch you give him, he gets flustered over

♡ "ummmmm... uhh- i- well.. umm"

♡ he loves giving you things. for whatever reason, he's always gifting you small trinkets to show his love for you. his favorite excuse for buying you something is "it reminded me of you!"

♡ not the kinda guy who goes for looks. no matter how 'ugly' you think you are, he'll wholeheartedly see you as the most beautiful person in the world.

♡ with that being said.. he'd definitely stop in his tracks if he saw a cutie :3

♡ (IT'S YOU, YOU'RE THE CUTIE. EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU IS HIS TYPE. GOD, HOW ARE YOU SO PERFECT FOR HIM??)

♡ if you ever mention something in a conversation (a band you like, a cool movie you just watched or a book you read, etc.) he's definitely going home and learning all he can about it.

♡ wholesome romance like those in the romcom movies

♡ "i love everybody because i love you" /ref /ly

♡ would totally let you paint his nails, do his hair, anything like that. he loves when you make him feel pretty <3

♡ doesn't want anyone to know this, but he loves wearing your clothes. like, you know the whole "wearing you bf's jacket/hoodie" thing? that's what he wants, but with your clothes.

♡ obviously he won't deny you his hoodie, but deep down he's waiting for you to give him yours

♡ LOVES giving long, deep, passionate hugs. hugs and cuddle sessions that can go on for an hour. he loves squeezing you against him, it makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside; being so close to someone he loves so much

♡ he WILL sniff you. he can't get enough of your scent. at first he was scared you would think it was weird, but now he does it freely. he's a very sensual person, and because of his disability (possibly impaired sight?), he often relies on his other senses to soak up every little piece of you.

♡ he loves wrapping you in his arms, cradling and comforting you if he knows you need it.

♡ he's excellent at reading you. he feels like he knows you best. despite being someone who can't really show his emotions through his expressions, he's amazing at reading yours.

♡ you don't even have to tell him anythings wrong. he knows when you need a hug.

nsfw :3

♡ definitely has a mommy kink. argue with the wall.

♡ it just slipped out one day.. you were riding him, making him feel good and warm, and all of a sudden he let out a small "m-mommy..!"

♡ that being said, he LOVES having you on top of him

♡ while you're straddling him, he grabs you by your hips to make sure you're not going anywhere

♡ very shy + whimpering mess

♡ the kind to not know where to put his hands

♡ that doesn't mean he sometimes doesn't have a dom side to him...

♡ he's definitely a giver. he prioritizes your pleasure before his own

♡ he's insecure about his ability to turn you on, make you cum, etc. he always tries his hardest to make you feel good, and lets just say it always works :3

♡ jerks off to the thought of you more than he would like to admit

♡ has a VERY vivid imagination.

♡ oh god the things he thinks about doing to you are almost to embarrassing for him to admit

♡ very sweet and loving the whole time. he's huge on praise, and would rather die than ever make you uncomfortable. your sessions are filled with millions of

"are you liking that?" "you're doing so good for me." "are you okay with this?" "you feel amazing (y/n)"

♡ he needs 100% confirmation on your dirty suggestions. you could make a hint, but won't act on it until he's absolutely sure you mean it (obviously you always do, but god is this boy insecure.)

♡ doesn't seem like it, but will fuck you like a rabbit. it's always the quiet, sweet boys who are the dirtiest behind closed doors :3

♡ likes being bitten. idk. idc. IDGAF.

[dollfacefantasy]

hi! i love your writing so much! i was wondering if you could write something with leon and a clingy reader? she just likes being held by him, and one day a make out session gets out of hand while he’s holding her so he just fucks her while standing up, not letting her get down. i don’t know if this makes sense but the thought won’t leave my head. hope you’re having a good day/night! <3

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: you're such a needy little thing. leon can't get enough of you, and when he finds out you like being held, he has to take advantage of that.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral sex (m receiving), standing sex, daddy kink

word count: 3.9k

a/n: thank you so much for the request! i FELT this one cause i also have a thing about being held hehe. i hope it's what you were looking for :) reblogs and comments are really appreciated <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus @luniaxi

It only took Leon a couple weeks of dating to figure out that his girlfriend was exceptionally needy. He could tell you tried to suppress it to the best of your ability, control your yearning for physical contact, but it was still there. Honestly, it was obvious from the way you looked at him alone. Glossy, pleading eyes just calling out to him for some love.

At first, he was wary of this trait. He wasn’t good with affection normally. Didn’t like talking about his feelings. That stuff was just too much. He’s a busy guy already. He didn’t need extra worries in the form of a sweet thing like you rubbing your cheek against his neck, snaking your arms beneath his shirt, softly pleading “Leon, I wanna cuddle.”

But his problem was that he always gave into that stuff. Words like those hitting his ears, your pouty lips begging for his kisses, and grabby hands roaming around his body always got you what you wanted. He’d plant a smooch on your temple or forehead, grunt a quiet “c’mere then baby,” and pull you on top of him.

Time passed, and you grew on him like ivy climbing a stone wall. Your clingy nature took root somewhere inside him and drove him wild. It was addictive, feeling so needed. For the first time in his life, he felt like someone’s absolute first choice. It was nice living out his days with the subconscious idea that he was your favorite person. He could get a bit cocky about it sometimes but more than anything it made him all sappy. He couldn’t help it. He tried keeping up the cool, slick persona around you for a little while because impressing you was so important to him. But the way you looked at him made him feel like Superman. Your precious face tilted upwards to gaze at him like he was the only man you’d ever laid eyes on. It just made him wanna scoop you up and take off, soar far up into the clouds where it would just be the two of you.

So he ended up feeding into this kind of behavior one thousand percent, enabling you with no reservations. If you were sitting together, you were on his lap. Standing near each other? His arm was around you, keeping you tucked to his chest. The two of you would be lying in bed and simple cuddling just didn’t cut it anymore. No, instead, he’d be rubbing your back, nuzzling and kissing your neck, massaging your scalp. And the pet names were constant. Your actual name was only reserved for serious or special occasions. In ordinary conversations, it was always “my baby” with the intermittent “precious girl” or “princess” mixed in. 

Because, from his perspective, why wouldn’t he? You both deserved this. You craved the physical affection you’d never gotten enough of while he yearned for a sweet little thing to dote on and love between the brutal DSO missions that plagued most of his time. He didn’t give a fuck if someone wanted to say it was codependent or that he was whipped. You were his baby, and if sweet tender affection was what revved your engine, what kind of man would he be to deprive you of it?

Maybe he was whipped. He wouldn’t shy away from that label. He loved you undoubtedly. His heart ached to see you smiling and laughing. Each individual cell in his body cried out to be pressed against you. But in the same breath, he’d be a liar if he said that sex played no part in his urges to coddle you.

He’d never seen a girl get as cock drunk as you. He’d warm you up with his cooing and caresses, and then all he had to do was slide a few inches in you, and you were gone. Nothing had ever gotten him so hard. It’s like your brain shut off as soon as your sweet little pussy was filled up. Really, you went the whole nine yards; whining, babbling, drooling. Your gorgeous lashes would flutter as your eyes went hazy, and you always wanted to hold his hand. Well, more specifically, you wanted him to offer his hand to you. He’d simply murmur “Aw, is it too much, princess? Here, hold daddy’s hand. That’s my girl,” and you were already cumming.

Cause that was the other part of this whole thing. Shortly after he caught on to your intense need for physical affection, he discovered your penchant for the infamous d word. The first time you’d said it, he had you pinned down to the mattress, face shoved against your pillow, hips slightly elevated while he stuffed you full of cock. You just cried it out in the same way you’d yell for God or whine “fuck.” And he rolled with it. One little word wasn’t gonna get in the way of what he’d found with you.

Beyond calling him daddy, Leon tried to take note of all the things that got you going. Sure, you were fond of physical expressions of love, and you probably wouldn’t turn down an offer from him ever. But that didn’t mean you didn’t have favorites when it came to this stuff. Leon took pride in remembering what you liked. Over the months of your relationship, he made a point to remember the specific motion you liked him to do when he rubbed your back. He burned into his mind that you liked to kiss in a way that would definitely make those over-the-top smooching noises found in network dramas. What could he say? He just wanted to do everything right for you.

Possibly his favorite thing that he discovered about you though was your love for being held. Love probably wasn’t even a strong enough word. Your affinity? Proclivity? Plain white hot need? Who fucking knows. All he knew was that you had a major thing for being wrapped up in his arms with your head on his shoulder.

The first hint he’d got at this part of you came by pure accident. He’d just arrived home from a mission, a long and taxing one at that. He’d missed you like crazy, felt as needy as you did on a daily basis, and you were practically vibrating with a longing for his touch. So when you came bounding down the hallway to meet him at the front door, he’d grabbed you by the waist, picked you up and spun you around like in an old cartoon when the prince and princess finally get their happily ever after.

Coming out of the short twirl, he’d brought you to his chest and held your body a little ways above the ground. He cradled your head to your shoulder and kept his grip tight to support you. And it wasn’t like you melted or had little hearts gleaming in your eyes, but something in your demeanor shifted.

“There’s my baby,” he muttered while smacking kisses on the side of your head.

You replied with how much you missed him, more than anything in the whole world. He laughed his deep, rumbling laugh and brought you over to the couch. You were all over him even more than normal which was really saying something. You couldn’t stop pecking his face or pushing up against him. Next thing he knew, you were tugging at his belt and taking his dick down your throat.

“Fuck, precious. don’t gotta choke yourself. It’s not goin’ anywhere,'' he hummed while tilting his head back against the couch. You weren’t normally so forward. You were always needy, but typically, you waited for him to initiate. It was much more your style to drop hints that you were in the mood and wait for him to pick up on your signals, but this time you just went for it.

He stroked the back of your head while you bobbed your head, taking him deeper each time. Groans fell from his lips, and his hips jolted in small twitches. Your saliva seeped out over your soft lips and dribbled down to his balls. You had never lacked enthusiasm before, but now you were taking him like his cock was the best treat you’d ever had.

He could barely stand the sight of you in that moment. Cute eyes drooping while your cheeks hollowed. Once he heard the muted sound of you gagging, he was done for. Shot his load deep in your throat in what would have been an embarrassingly short amount of time if you were anyone else. But you swallowed it all without any complaints and then crawled into his lap to cuddle some more. As you curled up to his chest, he knew something he did struck a chord with you to get you so eager.

So naturally, he tried picking you up again a couple days later. He had to know if that was a fluke or if it really was a thing. This time it was much more intentional, but he still played it off as a teasing gesture. He scooped you up from behind while you were fidgeting with something in the kitchen, expecting a whiny chorus of “Leon!” and “Stop, put me down!” But you didn’t say either. You let out a soft squeak and a quiet “What are you doing?”

“Just giving you a hug, baby,” he teased and situated you in his embrace so your front was pressed to his.

Almost immediately, as if your skull was magnetized, your head fell to his shoulder. Your limbs tightened around him a little and you took a deep breath like you wanted to commit his scent to memory. You didn’t even complain about him pulling you away from whatever task had been occupying your attention.

“This isn’t a hug,” you’d said softly.

“Says who? Seems like a hug to me, got my arms around you,” he responded with a small kiss to your temple.

His hand rose to your head and cradled it against his shoulder as your legs locked around his waist. He stood there with you for a moment just taking in the embrace. It was as if he could feel you melt against his body.

“A hug is when we’re both standing,” you say quietly while slotting your face in the warm crook of his neck.

“Yeah? You look that up in the dictionary or something?” he mutters in return.

When he had a firm hold on you, he walked you through the living room, taking the long way up to the bedroom to give his little experiment some time to play out. You rested quietly in his grasp as he navigated past furniture. He ran his free hand up and down your back as he moved, his other one planted firmly on your thigh to support you.

After the two of you reached the bedroom, he set you down on the bed and climbed in after you. His fingers coasted across your cheek as he looked down into your eyes, studying you in a way. He was still curious about what was going through your head. Again, him holding you like that had led to some of the best sex the two of you’d had, but there was something deeper there too. This wasn’t just a cheat code to get you to drop your panties. There was an emotional part of this too. He could tell.

“So you like when I pick you up, hm?” he’d asked.

You looked up at him from your spot against his chest, glowing a bit as you came down from the high. “I guess,” you answered with a tiny shrug.

He’d chuckled at your attempt to be casual and just dropped the subject matter. Your reasons were probably sensitive to you. Located in a deep, private cavern of your heart that was too guarded for you to let even him in yet. And that was ok with him. For now, he’d just chalk it up to some desire on an instinctual level. It was just something that made you tick, and it became something he did for you from time to time when you needed that extra level of care.

This evening, the two of you had been watching some movie. To be honest, Leon didn’t even remember what it was called at this point because he didn’t really wanna watch it in the first place. He was much more interested in you. You had just started it up as he arrived home from running some errands though, so he didn’t want to be rude and ask you to shut it off just because he was horny. Instead, he flopped down next to you on the couch. 

A small laugh bubbles from your lips as he pulls you to him and kisses down the side of your face, murmuring for you to explain what’s going on in the thing you were watching. You ramble on about the story, telling him that it’s the end of the world and these guys are trapped in this house, and that one is friends with that one but hates the other one, and blah blah blah. He loved you to death, but he just couldn’t care less about that right now. He hums along with a stream alternating between  “mhm” and “oh yeah.”

Your laughter increases as his kisses become more distracting. He nips at the skin of your throat and litters your soft skin with love bites. His tongue laves at your neck as his nose coasts over your flesh. After a while, your own interest in the movie begins to dwindle. You turn your head and plant some smooches on his face, enticing him to tilt his head upwards. The two of you meet in the middle, connecting your lips.

Mouths move in sync, tongues brush each other, and soon enough, your seat’s been abandoned in favor of your true favorite spot. You’re parked on his lap, the lush flesh of your ass flush against his semi-hard bulge. His hand slithers up your back underneath your shirt to rub up and down your spine while pulling you closer. Your breathing gets heavier, and you’re practically panting when you two finally pull away for a break. Your lips are wet with spit and a little puffy from making out. He drags his thumb over your bottom one as he smirks at your glazed eyes.

“Think you’d be ok with finishing this later?” he asks.

To his pleasure, you’re quick to accept the offer with a nod. “Seen it before anyways,” you admit and lean back in for more kisses.

He chuckles into your mouth and boosts you up without even turning the tv off. He’s stumbling to the bedroom, and you’re latched onto him like a little spidermonkey or something. He knew well by now that being carried took your brain to that sweet spot of utter submission, but today you were on something else entirely. You were getting whiny between kisses. He was having to support you extra because your hands were trying to slide in between the two of you and get at his pants. He assumed it was cause he got you riled up before picking you up, but he didn’t lament about it too much. He wasn’t thinking with his head right now.

All your squirming around nearly made him trip and topple the both of you to the ground. He grunts and shifts you around, trying to get you to settle down at least till you reach the bedroom. You wouldn’t let up though, continuing on with your impatient hip rocking and greedy fingers. He’s sure he’s about to fall over and one of you is moments away from serious injury, so he totters a few steps over and secures you against the wall.

“Jesus, you’d think I’d just got back from a war or something,” he breathes.

You laugh, but keep up your neediness. “Just want you so bad. Missed my daddy all day,” you murmur.

“Yeah? I know it’s hard being away from me. Your little head’s just not cut out for all that thinking is it?” he coos condescendingly, “This is how you're meant to be, just attached to daddy, letting him take care of everything while you tag along.”

“Mhm,” you nod and kiss him again. He can feel you smiling against his lips.

“Yeah, so how bout you do me a favor then and stop wriggling around so much. You wanna get dropped on your head so thinking isn’t even an option anymore?” he teases.

“No. I just…” you whimper defensively. A smile spreads across your face as you hide your face at the base of his neck. “I just want you… really bad.”

That was a tone Leon knew well by now. That was the tone of the guessing game. It was the voice you used when you wanted something but were too shy to just ask for it. So Leon had to decipher your signals and figure out what that thing was. Luckily, this time around it was pretty simple.

“Really bad? Like pinned down in the middle of the hallway while I’m stuffing you full of cum bad?” he asks.

“Sorta…” you say.

With an amused shake of his head, he thinks a little more. The stuffed full of cum thing was a given. So what was off? He was thinking through this as if searching for a missing puzzle piece. He runs through different scenarios before it clicks. He laughs a little. It was kind of obvious once he had it.

“Oh, of course not. There’s no way you’d choose to be out of my arms. What was I thinking?” he says, exaggerating his cadence, “So you want it standing?”

You nod, and with the right answer, that little smile feels so much sweeter. He leans harder into you, keeping you by pressing you between him and the wall. Giving you a few messy kisses, he finally undoes his pants and pushes them down to his mid-thigh. He was fully hard now. You could feel it as he rolled his hips against your center.

“Lucky you’re wearing a skirt, nice and easy for me,” he hums.

He bunches up the fabric around your waist before dragging his fingers over your panties, feeling how they were damp. He smirks against your lips while applying more pressure, seeking out your swollen clit.

“Already so wet, baby,” he chides, “Is this how you get while I’m not with you? Can’t think of anything but daddy cause your pretty pussy’s just crying for some more attention.”

“Yeah, need you to make the ache go away,” you say in a breathy whimper.

“I know you do,” he coos.

It’s a bit difficult in this position, but Leon manages to remove the last barriers of cloth separating the two of you. He lines up his dick with your entrance and slides home. Now it’s his head that falls on your shoulder as he groans. His stance didn’t really allow him to ease in. He was balls deep in the first stroke. You let out a long satisfied moan.

Taking a moment to readjust, he gets his elbows hooked under the bends of your knees. You’re basically bent in half, his cock to your cervix. This angle felt even deeper too. Your walls pulse around him as you work to accommodate the length.

“That’s it, pretty girl. Every part of you clings to me,” he grunts before taking a step away from the wall.

Losing the stability behind your back had you rocking and shifting more, causing his tip to nudge against all those sweet spots. Your thighs quiver as Leon gets into a rhythm and figures out how to bounce you on his cock like his. The sound of your skin meeting floats down the hallway. You whine and whimper, your eyes roll back as your head tilts the same direction.

He could tell you were loving it. Your favorite place to be combined with your favorite feeling in the entire world. There was nothing his sweet girl loved more than being stuffed full of cock and held by him.

“Feeling good, princess? Is daddy fucking you just how you wanted?” he asks.

“Mhm, mhm, mhm,” you whimper and nod dumbly.

“Good,” he says. He focuses on working himself in and out of you. His mind is locked on the sensation of your slick coating his shaft and collecting at the base, dripping down to his balls. But more words fill his mind and rush to his mouth to be let out. “This is why you’re so needy, right baby? You just need some cock in you or you get so frustrated. Can’t even think straight without your fill, can you?”

You shake your head wildly. Your legs tense over his arms. His hands dig into your back to keep you supported. You see his biceps flexing beneath his sleeves as he uses his strength to hold you up. He rocks you on his cock, back and forth, sliding himself in and out. You’re gasping and trembling more noticeably now. He knows you’re approaching the peak.

“Doing so good for me, precious,” he murmurs, “Keep squeezing me like that so I can fill you up just how you need.”

Your noises become more desperate. It feels as though you get even tighter. Leon slams into you deeper than you could remember. But then again, in this state, your memory wasn’t worth much. Pumping in and out, he sees your eyes squeeze show, your mouth widening into that cute familiar shape it always made when you came.

“Go ahead, baby. Make a mess for daddy,” he groans.

You do as he says, following your orders. You seize up and moan, long and loud. He tightens his grip and takes a step closer to the wall to ensure your high isn’t cut by falling. His hips don’t stop though. He feels that tensing in his belly. Gritting his teeth, he pounds you over and over until he has to stumble back to the wall.

You hit the surface with a thud, but he’s a little too busy to notice. He growls and whimpers into your neck, hips working at a more strained pace as he tries to grab that brief euphoria. A few thrusts later and release is washing over him. He fucks you full, going deep and staying true to his word about filling you up. He pumps every last drop in.

You slowly slide down in his arms till he lets go of your legs and your feet can touch the ground again. Looking up at him as he comes down, you watch his features melt into the relaxation of post-release. You lean up and press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. His eyes open and look down at you. A lazy smile spreads on his face and moves in to return the gesture.

“So how’d I do?” he asks with that smug look you loved so much.

“Perfect like always,” you answer, genuine in contrast to his teasing. You step forward on wobbly legs, grabbing his hand to finish your trip to the bedroom together. He leans down and smacks a kiss on your neck.

“Clearly not perfect enough if you’re walking on your own now,” he purrs in your ear.

You smile and look down. “There’s still time to fix that,” you offer.

“Of course there is,” he agrees with a light swat to your ass. He pecks your lips once more before following you through the entryway to your shared room.

[milliumizoomi]

𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐃? 𝐖𝐇𝐎?

☆彡SUMMARY.; Armando’s known to a lot as the stone faced killer, but when flustering him, how stone faced can he be?

☆彡FEATURED.; Armando Aretas x BLACK! Reader

☆彡TROPE.; Established Relationship

☆彡FORMAT.; Drabble-ish?? IDK😭

☆彡GENRE.; FLUFF (he needs it idc) + Suggestion

☆彡WARNINGS.; cursing, mentions of guns and weapons, violence mentions, very suggestive

☆彡NOTES.; soooo.. he’s my new obsession, and as such I had to write about him,, ENJOY!!😛 {he’s soooo.. sigh} also thank yewwww @blkcupid for proofreading this mama ILYYYYY😛💕. This also my first work in a while so pls be nice 🫵🏽.

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED 🙏🏽.

Oh you were about to piss him off.

You were going around flustering this man while he’s trying to work and he’s been so close to grabbing you by the throat each time.

You have no qualms acting like this around him because you’ve known him for so long to know he’s bullshitting when he says he’s gonna do anything to retaliate against you. Now don’t get it wrong, he’s no bitch by a long shot. But when you start teasing and flirting with him on a certain degree he can’t help the tint on his cheeks and the annoyance of seeing you carry on the way you do.

Like now for instance, he’s been taken out of jail by his dad to help him on another mission. Granted it’s one of the normal snipe missions he’s mostly been assigned on.

Good thing is, he’s on a break now, so he found his way to your place and he’s now lying shirtless on your bed, absentmindedly flicking through different movies and shows on Netflix. You walk into the room and see him on the bed and smile. He sees you walk in and raises on eyebrow and you then cocks his head, silently signaling you to come to him. You climb on the bed as he adjusts, wanting you to sit on him, and who see you to not comply.

Crawling over him, you sit and he reaches up, slowly rubbing up and down your back, down to your legs. You stare at him and he does the same in turn. He always stares with such intensity that it makes you feel completely bare before him, like he can see everything about you with one glance.

“¿Qué estás pensando en mamá?”

You snap out of it, realizing you’ve been spacing out.

“Nothing babe, was actually thinking about you.”

He smiles slightly and scoffs, a habit he tends to have a lot.

“¿En qué tienes que pensar cuando estoy justo debajo de ti?”

You notice the slight teasing in his voice and rolls your eyes with a slight laugh.

“Sólo pensando en lo bien que te ves debajo de mí.”

He smiles, you’re probably the only person he knows that means some shit like what you just said.

He doesn’t say anything back, opting to just stare up at you with that same intense energy he always gives off. He then slides one of his hands up to your back and pushes slightly on it. You know what he wants you to do so you allow yourself to be pushed and end up laying on top of him now, face snuggled into the crook of his neck.

Armando is a silent man, not one for a lot of words, so this kind of thing is normal between the both of you. He was one hand resting on your lower back and the other back on the remote, still just mindlessly flipping through catalog after catalog.

Now you get a wicked idea, knowing he’ll probably handle your ass, but that’s what you wanted anyways so you start putting it into motion.

It started with slight kisses to his neck. When he first felt them, he stiffened just a little bit and slightly shifted, caught off guard by the kisses. He looks over at you and taps the back of your thigh, something he does to give you a warning.

Obviously you ignore him and keep trailing kisses from his neck, up to his jaw, and up to the side of his face to his ear. At this point, he knows what you’re trying to do and grabs your face with one hand and turns it to look at him.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish..” he says.

You look at him, watching his eyes go from you eyes to your lips.

“And if I want you to you to finish it then what?”

He raises a brow at you then looks away shaking his head and smirking. He proceeds to quite literally haul you up from on top of him and holds onto you as he flips the both of you around.

Looking down at you, he smirks.

“I can do that..”

Well, turns out that the nickname “Stonefaced” suits him perfectly.

GLOSSARY

What you thinking about mama?

What you got to think about when im right under you?

Just thinking about how good you look under me.

[mcondance]

angel of small death. billy loomis

summary. billy’s finally found a middle ground between his needs, and your reservations. right?

contains. MDNI 18+, dubcon, fingering, unprotected sex (yay!), “just the tip” turns into full-on sex, billy’s being….. billy, creampie (yay! x2), he gets off on your pain (yay! x3), i say “believer” and “gospel” so if borderline blasphemy isn’t your thing then sayonara, title is from the hozier song “angel of small death and the codeine scene” but it is not required listening for this piece (though, if you want to listen, you can)

word count. 2k

— a word from your author: this started out as me just talking about billy telling you “just the tip” as a bridge into fully fucking you. but then it became me going into detail. but it was fun to write, as i enjoy writing dubcon. billy loomis, i’m ready to be taken advantage of <3

☆ ☆

“just the tip, okay?”

you’ve been holding back with him for a while, only really having sex with him of your own volition once or twice, and leaving him to beg the rest of the time.

he won’t tell you, but he likes when you make him beg to fuck you. when you make him lie and cheat, when he has to distract you from his hands pulling your bottoms off and by the time he’s lining up, you’re so worked up he has no choice but to fuck you. he likes having to play his way into your pants, or shorts, or skirt, when “yes” isn’t flowing readily from your lips like it sometimes is.

and, this time, he’s found a compromise.

“just the tip, okay? just a little, so it’ll still feel good for me and you.” me and you, he says, even subconsciously his pleasure comes first. and you. obviously, he knows you like being full of him. you like knowing what he feels like inside you, penetrating and owning the most intimate parts of you. he knows that, even if you try to contain yourself, you think about being under him or on top of him everyday.

“okay,” you nod, eagerly lying back on your pillows and spreading your legs for him. elation is written all over his face as he walks on his knees between your legs, the same smile that made you fall for him months ago spread across his pretty features.

leaning over you and caging you in between his lean arms, he hovers for just a second. leaning up, you finish the kiss, pulling him down with shy hands twisted in the collar of his shirt. he kisses you deep, the kind of kisses that make your brain fuzzy and have your body getting ready to let him in. he lingers on your lips, taking his time and fucking your mind the way only he can.

it’s a surprise you even agreed to the compromise, with the way your mind starts to call back how it feels to have him all the way inside of you.

he parts from your lips, placing a kiss on your jaw, and then the hot skin of your neck. there, he lingers again, remembering the sweet spot he found the last time he got you like this.

when he finds it, your hips buck against him, a little whine leaking from your throat.

“billy,” you murmur.

“yeah?” he gives back, kissing your skin again. you breathe out in response. it’s damning, and so pretty, and it has something between your legs pounding like your heart in your heaving chest. everything he says, everything he does, every look, every touch, is it for you. billy loomis has captivated and trapped you, and the danger you’re in only sets you alight.

moving farther down, he studies your face with just a quick glance, and, despite wanting to, he doesn’t push you on getting your shirt off. he plans for the future, the outcome he knows he’ll get, and decides he’ll like it better if you have your top on.

with his mind made up, he moves back to your face, positioning himself above you. he kisses you again, and that fire inside you burns anew.

one of his hands moves downward as his lips continue moving against yours, kissing you with such force that your heads move up with it. it’s a kiss like you always wanted before you met him, the kinda kiss you only saw in movies. he makes you feel like you’re in a movie.

that hand crests over the band of your shorts, caressing the soft skin of your stomach, right above the butterflies that flutter there. it moves down again, into your shorts and your panties, and you shiver. immediately, his fingers start on your clit, rubbing and circling and fuck, it feels good.

“billy, ah-” you whine, bucking up against his fingers. your head moves off the pillows, and he follows you, breaking the kiss to watch you squirm under him. his gaze is observing, like a predator and his prey, like a mad scientist and his experiment.

wet and ready, it only takes a couple more passes before he can slide his hand down and slip two fingers inside you, pumping in and out slowly. now, your eyes slip shut and you tangle your hands in his collar again, grinding down on his fingers.

“billy,” you sob, crying out for him like a believer.

and like that scientist in his lab, watching his creation form and morph, he watches you. he watches the furrow of your brow and the canting of your hips. you are his creation, the nasty things hidden inside you brought out by a boy with a sweet smile and sweeter words. he could sell a fur coat to an eskimo, a glass of water to a drowning man.

drowning. that’s what you’re doing. and he’s watching on with a smile, the same sickening smile that grows across his face as you get so wet that you can hear his fingers disappearing inside you.

at another whine from you, he hums “yeah,” a damning sound that your eyes roll back to. your body tenses, all systems overloaded and overcrowded by the sensation that he unleashes within you. it's burning inside you, lava swirling in your veins, red and hot and you can't think, you can barely breathe. his presence above you adds to it all.

like always, you're close so quick. billy knows your body from months of only being able to put his fingers in you, and the couple of times you've let him take you all the way. "i'm gonna—," you choke, squeezing your eyes shut tighter as you brace yourself for what you know will knock a couple brain cells loose.

he hums again, and through cracked eyes you see his head tilt to the side. with that, and the way his hand grows a little rougher, you come. it's good for you, like it always is, and it leaves you floating.

but for him, that obstacle is out of his way. now, he can get what he wants.

"you ready?" he asks, soft and quiet.

"yeah," you nod meekly, excited to feel him inside you.

he forgoes any further pretense, pulling his wet hand straight out of your shorts and hooking them in his sweats and boxers just enough to free himself, and you shiver at the sight of his fingers covered in your arousal. that same messy hand hits the middle of your shorts and pulls them and your panties to the side in one swift motion, made easy by how spread your legs are.

he looks up at you as his grabs his cock, nudging your clothes back out of place with his leaking tip. with his eyes locked on you he slips in.

fuck, it’s just like you remember. it’s just like you’ve played over and over again. the blunt, burning pain, the wet slide as he reaches just an inch or two deep inside you, cutting off before he slides in any farther. above you, you can feel those deep brown eyes watching and taking.

a soft breath escapes your lungs, all shuddery and shivery and even though he’s just barely inside you, he feels good. he buries his face in the hot skin of your neck.

he doesn’t take any input from you now. he’s already given in to your wiles in allowing this shy act, and he has no interest in asking you to allow anything else.

“billy,” you call as he starts to move slowly. perhaps the act of casting the crown of himself into you, so shallow, is more lewd than what you’re avoiding. lascivious, maybe, this compromise.

he rocks like this for a bit, taking in the feel of your walls kissing and clenching around the tip of him. fat and thick, he stretches you so perfectly, the searing pain being overtaken by pleasure until that’s all that’s left.

the middle ground is fine, for you, as he rocks in and out of you, groaning lowly.

but for him, it’s not enough. all of you belongs to him, and he wants to feel it. he wants to feel you.

this time, he rocks in a little deeper, opening you up farther for him. “billy. .” you say quietly, distantly aware of his cock pushing deeper than it’s supposed to be. a ragged groan pushes out of his chest in response, something pathetic and needing, like he’s groveling for it.

“billy,” you assert to the blank white ceiling, louder, trying to get him to stop his rocking. but a pang of pleasure shoots up your spine because he’s reached a little deeper this time, and you’re not sure if you want him to stop. this is always how it is with him, so confusing, like your nerves get crossed and the pathways to your brain are blocked by the boy above you.

he doesn’t pay you any mind, rocking father and farther. “ah-,” you breathe, cutting yourself off with a deep breath in as he starts to hit spots he’s only hit a handful of times before. it hurts, a little. the sensation has you squirming and bucking under him as he takes what he wants, forcing himself in and breaking down the barriers you’d set. he groans so prettily. you heat up, somewhat proud to be the source of his pleasure.

it’s rough, and you know it shouldn’t feel this good, but as your bed rocks under you and he fucks his cock deeper and deeper, you don’t know why you even tried to hold back. as he slides deeper, the pain intensifies, but ecstasy soon grasps it and merges with it, the two-sided feeling bringing you to the brink of insanity.

in his mind, billy thanks whoever’s listening as he listens to your sounds rise, listens to whines like you’ve been wounded, those pathetic, layered sounds, the kind he likes to hear from you. they’re the kind that blow his ego up, let him know that the hold he has on you is deep-rooted and ever-growing. he planted a seed of control in you the day you two met, and it’s been his absolute pleasure to water it every day.

finally, he’s as deep inside you as he can be, and he’s outright grinding into you, rolling his lean body down onto you while he looses low groans and grunts and heavy huffs. the discomfort that sits in the bottom of your belly has been relieved, turned into something that hurts in the best way. he feels good, even as your mind reels with the violation. he shouldn’t be doing this, a part of your mind tells you, but your body tells you that it’s fine.

you move with his movements, your body bumping up and down every time he bottoms out inside you. silvery whines fly out of your mouth every time his wiry hips meet yours, the force with which he fucks you tipping your whole being off balance.

it’s good. it’s so good. he’s good, hitting that one spot inside you that has you clawing at his back, your cells scrambling to find something to stabilize them. the sound of his body meeting yours fills the room and it’s heaven, in that moment you feel a new pathway being formed, something in you molds to herald billy loomis’s cock digging in you as gospel.

“shit,” you curse, utterly dumbfounded by pleasure. if billy asked you to give him everything you own right now, you’d say yes and ask if there’s anything else he wants with it. he can sense that in you, that devotion and yearning for him that’s begun to water itself without him having to do anything. you’ve forgotten what this even started out as.

when he moves his hand between the both of you and maneuvers under your clothes to rub hard at your clit, everything in you screams. from your mouth, you sob, your head falls sideways and you grip tight at him, eyes shutting down. he hums harshly. he wants you to come, and he wants you to come now.

and you do, for billy, you’ll come whenever he wants.

he follows soon after, slowing but never stopping his deep strokes.

after a beat of silence, he speaks.

“you okay?”

“yeah, i’m alright.” gratefully, in your voice, he no longer hears that barrier. finally, he’s broken you down.

[dovesdreaming]

Harry hook relationship headcanons

This wasn’t requested but I wanted to post something to do with descendants and I haven’t finished any of my requests yet!

Not edited yet

Warnings: none

Once he knew you were single would be chasing after you like a dog to a bone.

-he’s quite naturally flirty, everything that comes out of his mouth seems to have a flirtatious undertone.

-despite people seeing him as dumb I think he’s quite observant and can read people very well. Is very in tune with your emotions and can always tell when you’re down. Though he isn’t the best at comforting but he’s willing to work on it.

-uses his hook a lot. He knows you find it attractive and uses it to his advantage. Would lift your chin with it and run it down your cheek.

-loves eye contact. Will never break eye contact with you and when he’s first getting to know you he uses it against you to make you flustered. He loves knowing he has that kind of effect on you and will always try to make you flustered around him.

-once he’s dating you will never leave you alone. I believe one of his love languages is quality time as he was never shown any other kind of love. He constantly wants to be in your presence which you don’t mind.

-it isn’t that he doesn’t like physical touch it is just something he has to become familiar with after being starved of it for many years. You start off slow together with hand holding and gradually grew more touchy with each other. He now loves hugging you and cuddling. I think he is actually quite fond of being the little spoon or lying on top of you because it makes him feel surrounded by love.

-while he doesn’t show much pda he is prone to flirting with you in public and he doesn’t care who hears it. He proudly and unashamedly flirts with you.

-is protective of what he loves because he doesn’t have many things like that. Harry would be ready to pick a fight with anyone who flirts or gets to close to you, he just can’t help it, he doesn’t want to lose you.

-this makes him a very jealous person. Will always think the worst of a situation and won’t always be the angry jealous. He could interpret the person flirting with you as you thinking he wasn’t enough for you which definitely isn’t true. This leaves him sulking until you reassure him with many kisses and whispers in his ear. Depending on the day he could react completely opposite and just walk right up to the interaction and lay his hands all over you to send a clear message to whoever is eyeing you up. He will drag you away from the interaction if he has to .

-deep into the relationship he becomes clingy and will want to spend every waking moment in your presence, preferably your arms.

-would find it odd if you got along with your parents but if your parents accepted him it would definitely help heal some of the deep rooted trauma within him,

-he will still try to act tough and intimidating to those around him but once you walk over to him he just turns to mush, the complete opposite of what he was trying to make himself out to be. He goes from staring down the people he’s talking to and then turns to you with the biggest smile. People soon catch on and tease him about it but he just lets them because he can’t deny the truth of how you make him feel.

Thank you for reading!

[nadvs]

Bestie umm sorry (I’m h*rny) but could you write a blurb about Rafe x reader having sex for the first time after revealing their feelings for one another ?

aaa great minds 🤭 i was just thinking about this!!

based on this fic, continuation of this blurb! 18+!

rafe is lying awake in bed, staring at his ceiling in the dark, feeling like he needs to mentally catch up to everything that happened in the past 24 hours.

it’s all because he drunkenly called her his girlfriend last night. that set off a chain of events that eventually made them face the feelings they have for each other.

and even though he can’t pinpoint when his revenge hook-up turned best friend with benefits claimed a piece of his heart for her own, in retrospect, he can recognize the hints of proof that they weren’t just friends.

if she was always just a friend to him, he wouldn’t have spent so much time thinking about her. he wouldn’t have been in practice, trying to perfect his lay-ups, unable to really focus because he was looking forward to hanging out with her after. he wouldn’t have had so much fun doing something as mundane as grocery shopping with her. he wouldn’t be out with friends, all the while wishing he was with her in her dorm. he wouldn’t have liked the corny pillowtalk after sex as much as he liked the sex itself.

and now, he can’t stop thinking about how she felt pressed up against the couch earlier tonight. he was hard, because he always is when she’s touching him, but she has an early class tomorrow and he still feels like he got run over from how hard he partied last night and he knows that the next time they’re in bed together, it’ll be different because now they both know it’s not just sex. so he dropped her off without trying anything.

and honestly, he’s kind of nervous. this is all new. he never thought of himself as the boyfriend type, but then again, he didn’t know a girlfriend was this - a best friend who knows him inside and out and still chooses to like him.

he decides he’s taking her out tomorrow night. and then she’ll come over and he’ll show her just how much he appreciates that she’s a part of his life because he really has never felt as happy as he does when he’s around her.

through their whole friendship, rafe has been the decision maker. he makes the plans and all she has to do is show up. she loves that he does the work, and she knows she could tell him she wants to something else, and she has, but most of the time, she lets him be the boss because he does it so well. at least, in making plans. she challenges his dominance in other ways.

so, when he tells her to be ready for dinner at 7 the next day, she happily gets dressed and purposely puts on her nicest lingerie because she has a feeling that the night will end in his bed.

it’s not weird to greet each other with a kiss, even though they used to only kiss minimally during hook-ups. it’s not weird to hold hands as they walk up to the restaurant. it’s not weird when she playfully shoves his shoulder from across the table when he teases her and he kisses the back of her hand instead of pushing her away. it’s not weird, because it’s all things they both wanted to do but never did because they called each other just friends.

he suggests they go to his place and the moment his bedroom door shuts behind them, his hands are dragging up her thighs, squeezing her ass under her dress, kissing her hard.

rafe’s typically the aggressive one but now she’s shoving him back into bed, her hands on his hard chest, and he smiles under the kiss, revelling in how eager she is for him.

“can’t wait?” he mumbles, pulling her down by her waist on top of him.

she laughs softly, their noses touching as she lies on top of him, feeling his fingers sinking into her skin over her dress.

“what, can you?” she whispers, grinding up against him, feeling how he’s already hard as hell for her.

“you kidding?” he says. “no. look at you. you’re fucking beautiful.”

he’s never used that word before. outside of the bedroom, they were hardly ever verbally affectionate, and during sex, he called her hot a couple of times. this is new.

“i am?” she whispers, pressing her cheek against his as she starts to unbutton his shirt.

he’s overtaken by how badly he wants her, flipping her onto her back, kissing and nipping at her neck as he pushes the fabric of her dress up to her waist.

she gasps in pleasure when he yanks down her panties and puts his mouth up against her. her hand finds his hair as he starts to lap at her, treating her like he’s been craving her taste all day, and honestly, he has been.

her legs are spread as wide as they can go so he can kiss and lick and suck every inch of her. the sounds of her soft moans, of his mouth against how wet she is, are so fucking good that his cock is aching at this point.

they meet eyes as he sucks her clit, his nose pressed up against her, and she looks like she’s living in pure bliss and disbelief, her chest stuttering with her hard breaths.

he pulls back with a smack of his lips, his face wet from her, staring at her as he runs his fingers up and down her middle, slowly dipping a finger inside her.

“how’s that feel, hmm?” he says.

“so good,” she whispers, bucking her hips up against his hand. “so fucking good.”

he adds a finger, stretching her out slowly. she breathes out shakily, pushing up against him.

rafe can’t wait any longer. he pulls his clothes off as fast as he can and stands over her, palming himself as she sits up to take everything off.

their clothes are bunched up at the end of his bed as he lowers over her, holding his cock at its base, nudging against her entrance as he presses his open mouth on hers.

she hugs him with her arms and her legs, capturing his big body over hers, feeling like she’s aching for it.

“i get so hard for you that it hurts, you know that?” he says roughly. she melts beneath him when he sinks into her, hard against soft, and squeezes around him even tighter.

this is different, they can both feel it, but different good because there’s nothing unsaid between them anymore, no walls up blocking them from sharing an intimacy they held for each other but didn’t allow themselves to feel.

he fills her with a deep, tight pressure over and over as he rocks into her back and forth, still wrapped in her limbs, their temples pressed together.

“you always take it so fucking good,” he pants against her ear. “my good girl.”

she plants a slow kiss on his cheek as his words wash over her. he always praised her before, but never called her his girl. he has a more intense claim of ownership over her than she realized.

“keep talking,” she whispers, earning a smirk from him.

“you like it when i tell you how tight you are?” he groans. “squeezing me so fucking good.”

“mhm,” she mumbles, blissed out. her hands drag up his back, her nails running over his bare skin, holding back how hard she wants to grip him as he keeps thrusting rough and slow.

“go ahead,” rafe whispers. “scratch me up. i’m yours, baby. you fucking own me.”

his words send her over the edge, her nails digging into his skin, moving with his thrusts, running over his shoulders.

the sting hurts him in the best way. he holds her head in his hands to keep her steady, pulling back just a bit to lock eyes with her again.

he stares at her, in complete awe that he feels this good, that he found home in a person and that she found it in him, too.

“i’m yours, too,” she whimpers. “i always was.”

he kisses her hard. his thrusts start to get less rhythmic as he feels his body dissolving into an orgasm, starting to softly tremble as he puts all his weight on her.

the friction of him against her, the heaviness of him, the taste of him, the hardness of his body as she squeezes her limbs around him, makes her body go numb before she reaches a hard, mind-blowing peak, a tangle of yes’s spilling out of her mouth.

rafe doesn’t have the energy to get up right away as they start to tumble down from their orgasms. their chests are heaving, heads swimming with pleasure.

he gives her countless soft, lazy kisses before he stands, leaving the room to get her a towel. she’s in a daze as he cleans her up.

rafe wraps his arms around her once he lies down next to her, her nose in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent as they lay tangled, naked together.

“that was…” she breathes. “the best we’ve ever done.”

“yeah,” he half-chuckles. they’ve hooked up so many times, in so many positions, and in so many places, even in her college library, but nothing beats the thrill of what just happened.

because it was an entirely new level. and there’s no coming back down.

“what i left marks?” she says, tracing her finger over his shoulder. the realization hits her. “oh my god. what if people can see while you’re playing?”

rafe huffs a self-assured breath, imagining the scratches she left on him, red lines running over his skin and underneath his jersey on the court.

“good,” he says simply. because then they’ll know he’s taken. and the girl standing court-side cheering for the other team will know it best.

[mrpenguinpants]

Look, but don't touch. [ Harbinger Edition ]

— You're the only one who's allowed to touch him. Likewise, he's the only one that's allowed to touch you.

— Childe, Pantalone, Scaramouche, and Dottore

[Masterlist]

Love Language Series | Touch [ Here ] | Actions | Time | Words | Gifts

This is written before the Sumeru quest. Harbingers are their own warning.

This was a fever dream, incredibly self-indulgent, don't talk to me about this ok. Honestly don't even wanna tag people in this (´。＿。｀)

Tartaglia

Childe is friendly but he always keeps himself at arm's distance from anyone who isn't his family. The kind of guy that acts like he loves everyone but he truly doesn't like anyone. Always polite but never kind. He won't be outwardly hostile if one of the cicin mages decides she wants to try her luck and cuddle up to him, he sort of admires her bravery, but the hardened stare and indifferent response are awkward enough for anyone to bail halfway.

So what a surprise to everyone when it's Childe himself that pulls you into him. It's not a friendly hug either, he quite literally drags you into his embrace as soon as he sees you, locks his arms around your waist, and spins you around. Before he catches himself and gently settles you down and pretends as if he didn't boldly announce to everyone that you're special.

He is a harbinger at the end of the day so any intimate relationships he has need to be hidden lest he puts you in danger. That said, he doesn't do a very good job. He gets agitated and fidgety if he can't hold you, longing gazes in your direction even if someone else is speaking to him about something important. Whether it's shooing specks of dust off your shoulder, a tap on the arm, or the brief brush of your fingers against his whenever he hands something to you. He always finds some way to touch you.

It's always the worst and best time to speak with Childe if you happen to be there. On the upside, Childe is more likely to give his approval to whatever his subordinates ask just so they go away and leave you both alone. On the downside, because physical touch somehow makes Childe drowsy and almost drunk, he's useless.

It wasn't always like this. During your first months as something more than friends, not quite lovers, he kept you at an arm's distance just like everyone else. Only the occasional arm over your shoulder or a hand on the small of your back, just enough to show you that you meant something to him. But over time, those touches began to linger until the dynamic shifted and he began to rely on your touches to keep him sated. On particularly stressful days, he'll pull you aside into his office with a rushed excuse to just hold you in his lap. He's recharging, don't make tease him.

But he's not a selfish lover. If you need comfort or just want to be held, he'll gladly throw his plans out the window just to spend time with you. What's wrong? Did someone upset you? Want me to take care of them? He'll offer anything to make you feel better while you're cuddled up to him and it makes his heart flutter when you say you just want to stay beside him. He has a bad habit of resting his entire weight on top of you if you're both ever lying down. All that muscle is heavy but sometimes it's comfortable until his elbow accidentally digs into your side.

Childe can be polite if someone else wants to touch him but he's baring his teeth at anyone that has the audacity to place their hands on you. If someone bumps into you? He's fine, accidents happen. Someone moves you to the side? Whatever he won't throw a fit over that. He believes in the below-the-shoulder, above-the-waist, hands not included, rule. If anyone touches you, it's the only time when Childe will throw his reputation out the window.

Scaramouche likes to compare him to a dog and he'll gladly growl and bark if that's what it takes for people to get the hint and leave you alone. He'll slide his arms around your waist, tilt your chin up, and without any concern about the scene that this will cause, kisses you deeply. All the while sending the nastiest glare to the person that touched you. Look, don't touch. You're his.

Childe likes to believe that he has self-restraint. He's a soldier first and foremost so he has discipline beaten into his bones. But right now he's close to snapping the pen in his hands and hurling it into that bastard's forehead. He can feel Ekaterina's concerned gaze on him, shifting on her feet nervously, as she struggles to push through her explanation of his assignment quickly. Unfortunately, it's all white noise to Childe as all of his attention is on the cicin mage whose being a bit too friendly for his liking.

"Lord Tartaglia?"

Of course, you don't blink twice at it. He's seen how that loud electro pirate dotes on you and is overly physically affectionate herself. Maybe he should also fight her as well after he's done dealing with this cicin mage.

"Childe?" Ekaterina tries one last time, using a more familiar name to see if that would catch her superior's attention but alas, he was too busy glaring daggers into her college. Ekaterina raises a hand to lightly tap on her superior's shoulder to get his attention but just as her fingertips brush against the fabric of his uniform, Childe's death glare is directed at her. She flinches away from the otherwise easy-going Childe, her mask doing little to hide her startled expression.

"Sorry, sorry, not meant for you," Childe blinks away the hate from his ocean eyes, coming to his senses as he runs a hand through his hair, "What were you saying?"

"There is no need to apologize, Lord Tartaglia, I overstepped," Ekaterina, bless her heart, waves off the sudden aggression but takes a step back. Before she can continue, she overhears you saying goodbye to the mage and your footsteps coming closer. A small surprised noise escapes your chest as Childe pulls you into his arms immediately. If she didn't know Childe, she could almost say his expression was a bit cute with how pouty he was being. Although the look in his eyes says otherwise now that she was just on the receiving end. This seems to be a common occurrence because you just giggle and hug him back just as tightly.

"Please don't harm her. She was just being nice," you mumble into his chest.

"I'll think about it," he says, his eyes never leaving the mage.

Pantalone

On the one hand, the banker always carries this prestige that makes most people stay away in awe. No one wants to get on the wrong side of the man who basically funds the country of Snezhnaya. On the other hand, Pantalone has an ethereal beauty that compels people to come closer and touch. To see if the porcelain skin is real, feel if he's muscular or lean under the heavy fabric, or sneak a peek at what colour the banker's eyes are. It makes you kind of giddy knowing that this man belongs to you. That you know the answer to all these speculations.

You aren't sure when it started happening but at some point, he always ends up sort of mindlessly touching him. Placing a hand on his arm or knee, running your fingers through his hair, or gently rubbing away the stress from his shoulders. There wasn't an ulterior motive, Pantalone was just too handsome that you can't help but touch him just to make sure he's real. He thought you were overexaggerating a bit but he seemed deeply pleased at your confession since it was coming from you personally. That egotistical bastard.

But he always reciprocated your touch. Offering an arm for you to hold onto, brushing the hair out of your face, or rubbing small circles into your hand. Small gestures of affection would occasionally lead to more. The fact that Pantalone of all people let you be this close was something you secretly prided in yourself. You couldn't help but rub his newfound privilege in front of anyone that got too close that this elegant man was yours to hold. Look all you want but you're the only one that gets to touch.

You weren't aware of Pantalone's level of aversion to touch until he almost caused a scene at a gathering. It was meant more for looks and reputation, the occasional business talk, but overall a lax evening. One of the ladies thought it would be a good gesture to place her hand against Pantalone's arm. A bit flirty but innocent enough that the sheer disdain that swirled in Pantalone's eyes made her flinch away surprised. He struck her hand away, the sound carrying through the now-silent ballroom as everyone turned to the sound. You were surprised as well that Pantalone of all people, the image of control and ever-smiling, lips turned down into a repulsed scowl. Your feet quickly moved over to him, quietly excusing the woman for her careless act, and ushering her away before anything escalated. No one spoke of that night.

Ever since then you've always kept your hands firmly glued to your sides lest you feel his anger. If you happened to brush against his finger you would splutter out apologies and scamper away. If you felt his hand hover near you, you always assumed you were in the way and quickly moved aside for him. Overall, you acted as if it was you that was uncomfortable with touch. With each passing day that you fled from his hand, the crease in Pantalone's frown grew deeper.

It comes to a head one night when you get to see how Pantalone's aversion to touch applies to you as well. Occasionally some wealthy noble will host a gala and as one of the Tsaritsa Harbingers, Pantalone will be required to be present for at least one of them. Given his status, most of the attendees flock over to him which leaves poor you to meander about and find something to do with the time. Despite being his lover, you're not privy to what goes on with his work and frankly, the business talk and parties bore you. At least these places have food.

He sees you conversing with a man he knows is from Liyue, hoping to find more investors and trade partners here in Snezhnaya. He's already spoken to the man and rejected his offer so that's most likely why he's speaking to you, the banker's partner to garner sympathy. Although from the looks of things, you don't seem that impressed either. You notice his stare, perhaps his expression betrays him because your eyes grow concerned before giving a polite bow and turning to walk away and to him. If that was all then perhaps tonight wouldn't have ended so badly.

The man grabs your arm painfully enough for you to whimper and that's all Pantalone needs. He doesn't even try to hide his expression behind a smile, his lips set into a straight line. He grabs the man's arm tightly, the leather of his gloves crinkling from the force, and he nearly breaks the man's arm. How dare this inferior social climber put his filthy hands on you. You have to plead with him to let the man go, desperately trying to pry his grip away as the businessman begs the Harbinger on his knees that he didn't know.

Pantalone-

Pantalone is pissed.

You've never seen him this angry before. The lady all those nights ago doesn't even compare close to the anger radiating off him. His fingers flex still as he leads you away into an isolated hallway. You're not even sure if he knows where he's going, completely blindsided by rage. So you quickly step closer and throw your arms around him, stopping him in his tracks as you bury your face into the soft fabric of his suit.

"It's okay. I'm okay," you whisper softly into his back. You're not afraid, he won't get angry, not with you. Never with you. But it still pains you to see him this way. You feel more than you hear his deep sigh before slowly turning around and taking you into his arms. "Thank you. I didn't mean to start anything, you just looked displeased and I got worried. Oh, I'm sorry-"

You quickly move to shuffle out of Pantalone's hold but you can barely get two steps back before his touch grows firm and you're trapped. Despite how strong his hold is, he gently tilts your chin up so you can look into his pretty eyes. He really does have a nice eye colour you think in the back of your mind.

"You've been avoiding me. Care to enlighten me as to why that's the case? Did someone feed your mind with little lies?" Pantalone sounds coy but you can hear the undertone of worry. As if he's done something wrong which you quickly shake your head to.

"W-Well, that incident with the lady from a few weeks ago, the one in the red and black dress, you looked really angry when she touched you so..." you trailed off as your eyes look at anywhere that isn't the man in front of you, nervously twisting the cuff of your sleeve. When you actually hear it back it does sound a bit ridiculous to believe that but you just didn't want to make him uncomfortable. Or make him act a certain way just because you liked physical touch or to uphold appearances.

"And you thought you were comparable to people like that? That I would allow special treatment just because you were mine? That I would reciprocate to anyone but you?"

You fumble a bit at how honest his words are, searching for some way to justify yourself but at the end of the day, you'll knock your head against the wall for how stupid your logic is. So you stand on your tip toes and reach hesitantly up towards his face. Pantalone's face reminds neutral but he slowly leans into his touch, his muscles finally relaxing just by your touch.

Scaramouche

How the hell he tolerates you is anyone's guess. How the hell you tolerate him is Celestia's guess. He has the worst attitude, is quick to anger, flaunts his authority wherever he goes, and is overall a terrible person to be around. Yet every time he looks over his shoulder, you're always one step away from kicking at his heels. Which you have accidentally done before and somehow survived so he must like you a smidge. You tell him it's because it's out of spite that you're still here and spite is a powerful feeling. He of all people should know.

Scaramouche despises anyone being within his personal space, which is already a pretty big range, so the idea of someone touching him is repulsive to him. If he somehow was in danger and someone touched him in order to save his life, he would probably throw a fit and shock them. Their only reward is that he doesn't kill them. It's not like he has to worry too much, no one really wants to be in his presence longer than they have to and any admirers are quickly turned off within the first couple of seconds. Which makes it all the more baffling that you still hang around him and test just how far you can poke his limits.

The first time you touched him was by accident. Someone had bumped into you causing you to fall into Scaramouche. Luckily for you, you managed to put your hands out first and brace yourself against the wall but you had successfully caged the Balladeer between your arms. If you weren't currently fearing for your life you might have laughed at the horrified expression on the Harbinger's face. The only reason you survived that day was that Tartaglia chose that exact moment to waltz in and frankly, he was a far bigger headache than you were.

He's not sure how you managed to worm your warm into his cold non-existent heart but at some point, he got used to your presence in his life. A few words to take care of himself, extra paperwork being filled, or shooing away other soldiers so he could have space. All of these acts of kindness were met with half-baked insults and suspicious looks. Every time he asked you why the hell you were acting like he was some helpless doll you always answered the same, you just felt like it and he looked like he kinda needed it. Which was so baffling to him that you managed to walk away with your head intact.

It started off with small things. Like you're both feral cats that are trying to co-exist in the same alleyway. You always announce your presence, give him enough time to leave, and your touch is barely there. You never do anything close to intimate, never hold his hand or hold his face, and he never reciprocates ever. Although it speaks volumes when he doesn't push you away ever. You're always nearby, sitting close, and you both exist contently.

But just like a feral cat, with enough time and love, even they will begin to grow comfortable and domesticated. The look on his subordinate's face was hilarious when little old you waltzed over to the sixth harbinger, plopped down into his personal space, and literally sprawled yourself over his lap to see what he was looking at. Just to one-up the absurdness, Scaramouche didn't seem bothered in the slightest, only calling you an idiot for not being able to read the document that was right in his hands.

Although there are some downsides to being so close to Scaramouche. He's possessive with the power the enforce his pride. You have to constantly scold him that he can't go frying anyone that comes within two feet of you. It's hardly efficient and it's annoying having to scream just to know what time it is.

The you from years ago would have balked at how casual you were speaking with the infamous Balladeer.

"All I'm saying is you sound like a possessive maniac," you huff, your arms crossing over your chest as you frown down at the sitting man. You doubt he's even paying attention to you because if he isn't throwing spite around then he's filtering you out of his mind. Scaramouche barely acknowledges your words, still fiddling around with the Electro Archon's gnosis. It gives off faint sparks of electro every time he rolls it over his fingers but he doesn't give any signs of pain. Maybe because he's an electro-user? Either way, he's obviously not listening to you. You let out a loud sigh before shrugging and turning on your heel to walk back into the camp. Suddenly, his hand shoots out and latches onto your wrist and he's yanking you down. The you from years ago would have fainted seeing you sprawled over your superior's lap. As your vision tilts to the sky you can't help but think that for such a small body, he sure has a lot of strength. He wears a bored expression, his other hand is cradling his head while his elbow is on his knee, before a nasty smirk makes its way over his face.

"Yeah? So what?" Scaramouch says, his hand stopping to firmly hold the gnosis, though now one of his hands is now settled on your hip. You blink. Huh, you...weren't exactly expecting the ever-prideful Balladeer to blatantly admit that.

"Well, the "what" is that it makes it incredibly inconvenient to talk to anyone. Everyone avoids me like the plague because their scared you're doing to kick down their door and attack them," you pout, grumpily adjusting your head to lay on his knee, "Also you need to eat more. You make a horrible headrest."

"That's fine. You won't need anyone else," he says dismissively.

You open your mouth to say something but the look in his eyes makes you falter. He's serious. A mixture of a past memory, the present moment of you both together, and a far-off dream all dance in his eyes. It's a look you've never seen before on Scaramouche's face despite how long you've worked under him and you can't help but be mesmerized by it. It's likely the first and last time you'll ever see him be honest. But it's quickly over as his eyes morph into snarky glee, his lips pulling into a mean grin.

"You look stupid."

Il Dottore

People are downright terrified to even be in the same room as the infamous doctor. There's never a safe moment and anyone could be the next test subject depending on his mood. It doesn't matter who it is, even his own segments, if someone touches him that means they've just volunteered to be his next experiment. It's suffocating when Dottore is out and not locked in his lab because everyone need's to be hyperaware of where the doctor is located in the room. So to say that Dottore tolerates you is a massive understatement.

He actually quite likes to parade you around, almost like you're his newest addition to his collection. Touch isn't a problem for him if he's the one initiating it given how often he's dragging you around like you're some pet. He's not gentle in the slightest, nearly pulling your arm out in his crazed rush to show you his newest creation. You would joke and say that in moments like these, he's the one that acts like the pet. Too excited to show its owner its newest achievements. But you have a sliver of sanity in your mind so you keep your mouth shut.

Every moment with Dottore is a warped sense of time. You've been with the Doctor for a long time, before he became a Harbinger, and you don't know how your relationship progressed to this stage. You're walking on a tightrope of old colleges that are too intertwined with history to be separated or co-dependent individuals that need death to finally leave each other. So when he touches you softly, affectionally, you stumble and fall off your rope. The mad doctor laughing from above, arms still outstretched from where he's pushed you.

Half of it is madness, and half of it is out of genuine love. Although, to Dottore, madness and love are the same things. His acts of affection are spontaneous and equally as fleeting. One second he's rattling off medical terms and theories, pauses in his rant just to give you a deep kiss no matter who's around you to witness the act, and proceeds as if nothing happens. That's not to say you don't enjoy it when he decides to reward you, you just wished it wasn't in front of so many people. You suspect he does it on purpose.

There's no softness or quiet time aside from the very very few and far between moments Dottore decides to indulge you. He's a busy man, his mind only built for progress, and he has better things to do than to play pretend. But for you, the one who forcibly carved space into his heart, he can make arrangements. Only for a short while. Some days he may hold you as if you'll shatter if he squeezes any harder, other days he'll push your hair away from your eyes quietly, and one day he kisses you as if you're something more.

Unlike Dottore, you don't have an intimidating reputation. People can touch you if they want to. It makes you a bit happy when Childe will pat you on the back or ruffle your hair cheekily. He's also one of the few who can get away with it as well since Dottore can't physically harm him for touching you since he's a fellow Harbinger. Besides, people speak with their eyes more. Since that doesn't qualify as anyone touching you, Dottore won't do anything. So they stare.

They stare at how the Harbinger holds you in a special place. You aren't remarkable, you're the same as the rest of them. Yet you're untouchable and invincible from the man who can change their entire lives. Mistakes occur frequently when Dottore is in the room, the slip of a finger because everyone is too focused on staying out of the Doctor's way. You get to stand beside someone like that.

It's been a hard day. A very hard day. You're absolutely exhausted and ready to curl up into a ball as soon as you get to your room. You aren't even sure what exactly happened. One second you were doing your job and the next your head was on the ground with a pulsing pain on your right cheek. It's not unusual for patients to lash out but under those circumstances, they don't have anything to do with you intimately. You know what people think about your relationship with Dottore. What people who only glimpse into the relationship you have with him think. Usually, they stay silent, only judging you with their eyes but always silent. That is until nearly 10 minutes ago.

"You're late."

You barely react when you hear his voice. Of course, it's him. God, what bad timing. He's the last person you want to see right now, especially in this state. You only give him a nod and mumbled out apologies, stumbling over your feet like a newborn lamb when his hand latches onto your wrist to drag you off again. You think you might have his fingerprints as bruises now. Another thing people can mistakenly think about your relationship. You only know you're crying when you hear the splatter of your tears against the tiled floors and Dottore's footsteps come to a halt. His grip on you has gotten tighter.

You're startled out of your wallowing when warm hands cup your face, brushing your tears away. His gloves are off. When did he take them off? Dottore simply looks at you as you silently cry. You're too tired to apologize, too tired to break down in sobs. Your arms hang uselessly at your sides but you close your eyes and lean into his touch.

"Give me their name."

He whispers it softly. You think back at the girl that struck you. You think she's new, she has to be. You know that if you say her name, you won't see her tomorrow. But you're too tired right now. So with no hesitation, you volunteer her to become the next test subject.

[theonewiththefanfics]

Seal It With a Kiss (one-shot)

Synopsys: After a looting session goes wrong, Astarion and Reader have to face the music and confront their feelings. Whatever they might be.

Pairing: Astarion x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Warnings: talks of blood, injuries, swearing, mentions of abuse, but nothing explicit

Word count: 3234

A/N: I have not played Baldur's Gate 3 (I don't own a PS or a PC where to play it. all of this is based on the info gathered online and through Neil's own gameplay etc. Please be kind :) )

The light was too bright. And the ground was too hard. And the pillow too tough and lumpy. And why did Y/N feel so hot when it was literally snowing? And, actually, when had it started snowing? From bright blue skies, might she add?

Slowly, haziness dissipated from her eyes, and the world around came into sharp, painful focus. The light was too bright because half of her surroundings were on literal fire. The ground was too hard because she was half on rubble that once was a palace roof, and the tough, lumpy pillow was a rock her head had smashed against, while the snow was ashes flowing down, covering everything, including her, in a grey layer of soot, the sky peeking in from the hole above.

Although her sight was clearing, a sharp ringing pierced her ears. Or was it shouting?

A shadow crossed the sky, and above her, she could see their resident vampiric elf’s mouth moving.

“ – were you thinking?!” Finally, her ears started to clear as well. “You absolute imbecile! Why would you do that?!”

Y/N just groaned in response, as her memories came back in quick flashes. Everyone was arguing about where they should look for another magical artefact, Astarion shooting down what Gale had proposed, Wyll trying to make a sensible plan while Lae’Zel interrupted Shadowheart at any given moment. A deep rumble from the depths of the abandoned palace they were in silenced them all, Karlach throwing them a worried expression. And then the whole building exploded.

On instinct, Y/N had pushed Astarion as far away as she could before the ceiling came crashing down on top of her. It was nothing short of a miracle, she had managed to survive. Bruised, battered, no doubt with broken bones, but alive nonetheless. Maybe she’d have to thank a goddess or two. That was if Astarion didn’t rip her to pieces beforehand with how furious he looked.

Slowly Y/N tried to lift herself onto her forearms, and for all his admonishments, Astarion was quick to crouch down and help her, putting his arms under her pits and letting her rest against his chest.

“Oh dear,” she mumbled, noticing a large bannister lying across her leg. “That’s not good.”

“Not good?!” Astarion practically shrieked, his hands tightening around her ribs. “How hard did you hit your fucking head? This is so beyond not good I can’t even think of a level!”

Y/N winced at his tone. “Can you stop shouting, please? Gods, my head is splitting.”

“Oh, is it now? It would be quite the fucking miracle if it wasn’t, seeing as a whole fucking palace just toppled on you!”

“Quit being so dramatic and help get that thing off me! Where’re the rest?”

“Frankly, I don’t fucking care right now!” Astarion gently laid Y/N back down and went to the large boulder.

His arms strained as he lifted the piece of the pillar, her eyes widening at the display of strength.

She sometimes forgot how strong Astarion actually was, how easily he could snap her neck with just a twist of his hands if he so wished while Y/N allowed him to drink from her. But he was always gentle instead, with how he held her nape, fingers soothingly pressing into her scalp and knuckles brushing against her collarbones once he was done in a sweet gesture of thanks.

As quickly as she could, Y/N scooted from under the rubble, Astarion dropping the boulder back unceremoniously, and he was back by her side in a second, an arm wrapping around her waist, so she could lean on him.

“We have to find the others,” Y/N hissed as she stood. Her whole body screamed in pain, but they had to get out of the now-ruined palace, lest another explosion happen.

“They can find their own way out,” Astarion grunted, as he led them towards the exit.

“Astarion!”

“No!” He snapped his head to look at Y/N, and his scarlet eyes held such a desperate gaze in them, that she pinched her lips shut. “I will knock you out if I have to. I am not letting you get hurt again.”

“Astarion, they’re our friends,” Y/N’s voice was gentle. “We have to help them if we can.”

For a moment, Astarion truly looked like he might just throw her over his shoulder and march out of the place. But then he sighed, hanging his head in defeat before looking at her with pain distorting his features. “Why do you always have to be so good?”

Something tugged at her heart. That expression on his face, as if it physically put him in agony to lead them around the ruined palace in search of their companions, as he flinched and tightened his hold on her whenever something crackled, ready to throw his own body atop hers, in case something happened. It wasn’t selfishness, not one bit. Something deeper lay beneath Astarion’s reluctance.

It took them a while to find their party, but luckily no one was injured, and Y/N was the worst one off.  Shadowheart was by her side in an instant, giving her a healing potion.

“Should keep you set until we get back to camp.” She patted her shoulder. “I’ll heal you fully once we’re out of immediate danger.”

“Thank you.” Y/N smiled at the cleric.

She was just about to ask Astarion whether he was alright, but the vampire had already detached himself and was glaring at the ground, arms crossed over his chest ten feet away from her.

Y/N couldn’t deny – it stung. He’d been so worried just a few moments ago, yet now he couldn’t even look at her?

Her feet worked on their own accord, moving in his direction, but the way he turned his back to her, told her all she needed to know – he didn’t want to talk.

Pain shot through her heart, and it was definitely not because of the explosion, but Y/N respected his privacy, so she didn’t approach him any further, even though they always, always, walked next to one another.

“We should head back,” she spoke up, eyes remaining on Astarion’s taut back. “Maybe get some rest as well. We still have tomorrow anyway to search this place.”

When Astarion left the palace without even waiting to see if anyone was following, Y/N could do nothing but sigh and depart as well.

The walk to where they’d set up their camp was uncharacteristically quiet, especially from the pale elf’s side. He’d usually fill their travels with mindless talk and sarcastic quips, but this time around, he hung towards the back of their group and was as mum as a grave. He didn’t even comment on whatever Gale was saying, which made Y/N all the more uneasy.

She couldn’t wrap her mind around why he’d become so distant all of a sudden. What’d happened at the palace was nothing unusual. They risked their lives on the daily, saving others and themselves, so why in the world was Astarion so pissed about this, she had no clue.

Karlach leaned to the side, watching as the vampire entered his tent, closing the laces immediately. “Fangs is quite in a bad mood. Anything we should know about, soldier?”

Y/N huffed. “Probably broke a nail or something. In any case – nothing important enough to be acting the way he is.”

“Maybe I should go and – “

She put a palm on Karlach’s shoulder, stopping her, and giving her friend a wry smile. “I’ll talk to him. Better he’s angry at me and only me, not someone else as well. Apparently, I’ve pissed him off as is.”

“You sure?” the tiefling asked.

“Yeah.” Y/N nodded. “I think we need to have a talk anyway.”

With a “good luck” from Karlach, she sighed and steeled herself against whatever the vampire would throw her way. She unlaced the ties and lifted the flap to the side. With crossed arms, she entered Astarion’s tent, only to be greeted by his back as he stubbornly kept looking at a book in his hands, not even acknowledging her.

“Are you seriously pouting right now?” Y/N asked after a minute of silence.

“I’m not pouting, I’m brooding. There’s a difference.”

“Well, does brooding involve giving the silent treatment, or can we talk?”

Astarion threw a withering gaze over his shoulder. “What is there you want to talk about? Unless it’s an apology, I don’t want to hear it.”

Y/N let out an exasperated huff. “I’m sorry to disappoint, but I won’t apologise for saving your life.”

“By putting your own life in danger?!” Astarion spun around, throwing the tome he’d been holding onto his bedroll.

“Comes with the territory.” She shrugged. “You should know how it is.”

“Letting a whole building collapse on top of you is very different to knocking a blade out of the way!”

“Why are you so angry with me?” Y/N raised her voice, matching Astarion’s furious tone. “I saved your life!

“I didn’t ask for you to!”

She let out a disbelieving scoff. “Well, sucks to be you then! Because I was not just going to let you get crushed underneath all that rubble! Your life is just as important as everyone else’s!”

“Not to me! Not when it comes to you!”

Now that shut her up completely, her lips pinched in a thin line, eyes wide in shock. She and Astarion were friends, at least Y/N would've liked to think so. She most definitely had developed deeper feelings than that, but would only admit to it over her own dead body. The thought of Astarion’s rejection made her want to crumple into a small heap, but his reaction put thoughts in her head that maybe, just maybe, her feelings weren’t one-sided.

“What do you suppose I would do if you – if – if,” he stumbled on his words. “If I had to go on without you? If you were no longer with us… with me…”

“Astarion…”

“Do you understand how it felt to see you go down?” He sighed, hanging his head. “When I saw the roof caving in and then felt you push me away before you vanished beneath rubble and dust and ash… I’ve never been more terrified in all of my life, two hundred years of which were spent under the rule of an absolute sadist, where horrors awaited around every corner.”

His eyes bore nothing but pain and despair he’d felt in that moment. “I heard everyone else screaming - Shadowheart calling out, Wyll and Karlach making sure Gale and Lae’Zel were alright but nothing… not a single whisper from your voice. You tell me I’m pouting, but all I can see when I close my eyes is you… how you would look… dead. Your eyes closed forever, your blood spilling out of your body and I… I have to stand and watch as I am unable to save you.

“But I’m alright.” Y/N stepped up to him, taking one of his palms in hers, and squeezing it. “Astarion, I’m alive, and I’m fine.”

“But you almost weren’t!” he hissed, pulling her closer, bringing their clasped hands to rest against his chest. “And all I would have been left to do was wait for the dust to settle and dig out your broken body. You would have condemned me to eternity without you… I just almost lost the person I love... and that fear is something I never wish to experience again.”

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat at such an honest confession. “I umm I didn’t know you felt that way about me.” Friendship was one thing, but love? That threw her completely off balance.

“Feel? Felt? What does it matter anymore? Clearly, it’s not like it’s reciprocated.” He scoffed, back the mask of bravado and not caring, but Y/N wasn’t having any of it.

“It matters to me.” Her brows furrowed. “It matters a great deal to me. Why do you think I did what I did, exactly? Because it’s fun? Because I enjoy blocks of buildings dropping down on me? Because it’s such an absolute delight to realise - if I don’t push you out of the way, you will be in direct line of fire, and I might lose you?”

Astarion’s mouth opened and closed. “I didn’t – I –“

“No!” Y/N pointed an accusatory finger at him. Now she was angry. “You don’t get to play the "I'm in love with you" card and be angry with me. Not if you dare tell me how I feel without asking first!”

“You...” He shook his head, a crease to his brow. “You never indicated you held anything more than… friendly affections towards me.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Yes, because I let everyone in this party use me as their personal snack each night. I’d say that should’ve been your first clue.”

“I’d say you’re a full-course meal, my darling, but I understand the sentiment.” And though back was his usual air of sarcasm, a deep vulnerability could be seen shining in his crimson eyes as he weaved a gentle hand to wrap around the small of her waist, brushing underneath her sleep tunic to rest against her skin.

Cold met warm, and Y/N gasped as a shiver ran down her spine. His slender fingers dug into her back as he pulled Y/N closer, their breaths mingling, and if they only moved just a couple of centimetres, lips would touch.

“I just – I cannot stand and watch you throw your life away for someone like me. The thought of your brightness being extinguished because of it… I couldn’t bear it.”

Y/N tilted her head to the side. “Someone like who exactly? Someone who I’ve grown to look at as my dearest confidant? Someone who I know will always tell me the truth and be there if I cannot handle it? Or someone who so deftly has stolen my heart, he cannot even comprehend it’s been his the whole time? Besides, even if it wasn’t reciprocated...” She played with the string of his shirt, “you can’t tell me to be more careful, to not save you when you do the exact same thing.”

“How can I not?” Astarion’s voice was uncharacteristically soft, and for once, he seemed to want the moment to reflect what truly lay in his soul. “You make my heart beat on its own. If I had to give up walking in the sun for the rest of my life, I would. As long as it meant you were safe and happy. I’d even gladly go back to Cazador if you were on the line. Without a second to spare.”

“Don’t you dare fucking say that!"

“But it’s true.”

“Not if I can help it,” Y/N grumbled, tightening her hold on his shirt by his hips, pulling him closer like she had to make sure he wasn’t going anywhere. “He’s not ever going to get near you. I’ll level the whole of Baldur’s Gate if I have to.”

“And I am being honest when I say, if I had to choose between you being unhurt or me being imprisoned, being used as I was, I would always put you first.”

Y/N was on the verge of tears. “You listen to me you pompous blood-sucking elf – you will do no such thing. Whatever comes, we both will get through it. And Cazador will have his head ripped from his shoulders, but not before I gouge his eyes out, and do every single vile thing he did to you back onto him. I will skin him alive and then throw him in a tomb with nothing but cockroaches. Let him drink his own blood and see how he likes it.” She shuddered, taking in a deep breath. “Your life is not worth less than mine. Don’t you ever dare think that way.”

A watery chuckle escaped Astarion, and his eyes brimmed with silvery tears. “Can I kiss you?” He didn’t dare lift his gaze, focusing on their intertwined fingers, resting against where his heart no doubt would have been rattling a crazy rhythm if it still beat.

“If you want to.” Y/N’s reply was as quiet as his question had been, but there was no teasing in her tone.

His eyes flashed for a second, but she didn’t get a full grasp on what it was she saw. Maybe surprise. Maybe gratitude? She couldn’t tell really, all she knew was that the emotion caused a pang to ring to her very core. She’d kill Cazador with her own bloody hands.

“I want it.” He nodded. “More than anything.”

“More than my blood? That first night you almost drained me dry,” Y/N’s words, though true, held no malice, only gentle teasing.

“And how do you know that first time I wasn’t trying to wake up the sleeping princess with a magical true love’s kiss? The feeding just ended up being a bonus.” He brushed her nose with his, and couldn’t help the way his own lips turned up as Y/N smiled.

“Well, this sleeping princess would’ve punched you in the nose, had you awoken her for such silly things. Besides, you did miss my lips.”

Astarion chuckled, relishing the way her body pressed against his. “But I am allowed to awaken you to drink from you?”

“Well...” She nudged his nose with hers now. “Seeing as you become absolutely unbearable when hungry, I think for my own peace and everyone else’s, that does count as a vital reason to rouse me."

Gentle hands cupped her cheeks. “Allow me to demonstrate then how vital a kiss can be to one’s survival.”

And then their lips met.

She’d never admit it out loud, for his ego would surely grow larger than it already was, but it did feel like a magical kiss of life. Her whole body sang as his fingers slid against the nape of her neck, pulling her closer, almost like Astarion was afraid she’d pull back, but she could never. Not when he slipped his tongue past her lips, and her knees almost crumbled.

Y/N had to tighten her hold on his waist to not completely lose it, and she could feel the smirk growing on the vampire’s face, as he realised just how incapacitated his kiss had made her. He nipped at the bottom of her lip and relished in the small whimper he got to devour.

After what felt like ages, they pulled back, panting, but not going too far as Astarion rested his forehead against hers.

Y/N smiled. “True love’s kiss you say?”

“It feels like it,” he mumbled, allowing himself to indulge in the tender touch of her fingers skimming up and down his back. “Though I don’t know much about… love… I’d like to experience it with you. All of it. The good and the bad that might come with it.”

“I’ll be here,” Y/N promised. “As long as you want me to, I’m not going anywhere.”

“And if I ask for forever?”

She let out an over-exaggerated, dramatic sigh. “Forever’s quite a long time, don’t you think?”

“Not long enough,” Astarion replied, a smile tugging up his lips. “It’d never be long enough with you.”

Y/N quirked a brow. “Is that a challenge?”

He chuckled at that. “I’d say it’s more of a promise, if anything.”

“Seal it with a kiss?”

“Deal, my love.”

Tags:

Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @m-a-t-91 @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @lestersglitterglue @im-squished @strangersstranger

Astarion tags: @spacebarbarianweird

A/N: my tags are always open, so just drop a message if you want to be tagged :)

P.S. do not plagiarise my work or repost it on other platforms!!!

[azrielslittleslut]

The Frenzy (pt. 2)

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Azriel and reader continue to explore their mating bond.

Warnings: smut, 18+, NSFW, fingering, edging, scratching, pet names, wing play (kind of), p in v, praise, slightly dom!Az

Word Count: 1.8k

part 1

a/n: i have at least one more part for this planned, but I am totally open to suggestions on what you guys wanna see in this fic!;)

Enjoy!

In your centuries of living, you had known some mated couples, and you had always heard tales of the intensity of the mating frenzy.

"You won't be able to get enough of them, your mate."

"You won't be able to stop. Even if you're sore and tired.."

"Your body demands more, more, more. It's like you're never satisfied."

You had always thought they were exaggerating. Surely, your body would reach a point to where food and rest would overcome your desire to have your mate inside of you.

Gods, you were wrong.

You had not gotten any sleep last night since you and Azriel had finally accepted the mating bond. You couldn't get enough of him. You craved more of his taste, his smell. You thought only of his hands on your body, his cock moving inside of you. Luckily, he met your relentless hunger with his own.

Insatiable is the only word to describe what you are feeling.

"How about a bath?" Az asked from where he was lying on top of your chest. You had just finished your tenth round of lovemaking. Or was it the eleventh? You didn't know. You lost track a while ago.

"Hmm," you murmur, running your fingers through his silky black hair. "That sounds nice." Your body was covered in dried sweat and cum, and you longed to be clean again.

Azriel gracefully slides from the bed, fighting through the tangled sheets. He grabs your ankles and pulls you after him. You laugh as he hauls you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist. He grips your ass in his hands as he walks towards the bathroom.

The bathroom was quite large, and the tub was conveniently big enough for two. The water was already running, thanks to the enchantment on the cabin. Through the large window in the bathroom, you can see the sun beginning to rise along the peaks of the mountains in the distance. It was still quite dark, though, so the cabin's magic also lit the candles lining the room, casting everything in a sultry glow.

"It seems you kept me up all night," you murmur to Az as he sets you gently into the water. You settle yourself against one of the benches along the side of the tub, and you let out a soft moan as the warm water eases the tinge of pain in your sore muscles. He had put you in positions you hadn't even realized were possible, but you weren't complaining.

Azriel chuckles as he gets in after you, making his way over to settle himself between your spread legs. He leans down and begins kissing your neck, sucking on your skin. His shadows swirl around him, and you giggle as you feel them tickle your face. "What can I say?" he asks, his voice low. "I crave you. You make me almost feral because of how much I need you."

You lean your head back against the edge of the tub to give him better access. "I didn't realize it would be like this," you admit. "I'm so tired and sore, but I want more."

Azriel pulls away and you can see his eyes darken with lust. It was a new look from him you had grown accustomed to over the last few hours. You had seen his eyes full of happiness, which caused the greens and browns in his hazel eyes to stand out. You had seem them full of sadness, and even fear.

But this look.. this look caused his eyes to turn almost black, and the sight of it lit a fire deep in your bones and caused your pussy to throb.

He smirks, and you find yourself staring at the way his luscious lips move. You remember the way those lips feel wrapped around your nipples, the way they felt against your slick folds.

You let out a soft moan and pull him closer, wrapping your legs around his waist in the process. The hot water from the bath felt cold compared to the heat dancing across your skin. The world narrowed down to only Azriel, and your unrelenting need for him.

He chuckles. "So needy for my cock, hm?" he teases, leaning down to bite on the tender spot between your neck and shoulder. "Let's see what we can do about that."

He swiftly moves back, pulling you with him as he settles on the bench across from yours. You sigh as you feel his hardness against your aching core, and you can't help yourself as you grind against him.

Azriel clicks his tongue and grabs your hips, stopping you in place. "None of that," he murmurs as he moves his hand down to run a finger through your pussy. "You think I haven't noticed how much you love my fingers in you?" He pushes his middle finger in slowly, watching in awe as your mouth drops open in pleasure as he begins to thrust.

Indeed, you loved his fingers inside of you. It was no secret that Az was insecure about his hands, although you had always found them beautiful. But like this, there were no insecurities to be found. He had quickly learned how to make you come apart with his hands alone, and holy shit was he good at it.

Suddenly, he stops his movements, and you hold back a cry of protest. With his free hand, he smacks your ass slightly, causing the water around you to ripple. "When I ask you a question, I expect an answer." The tone of his voice held no room for argument.

In the past few hours, you had realized your mate was a walking paradox. To everyone else, he was polite, kind, and gentle. Yes, he could be cruel and ruthless, but that was only when he was doing his job for the Night Court. But in the bedroom, he was a demanding male, and he had the tendency to withhold your pleasure if you didn't follow his orders.

You didn't mind. With him, you had no problem being told what to do. You loved the idea of him being in control. In fact, it turned you on like fucking crazy.

"Y-yes," you stutter, struggling to find words. "I love your fingers, your hands. You make me feel so good with them."

"Good girl." He begins to move his hand again, and he quickly adds another finger. "Has anyone else made you feel this good, princess?" he asks, leaning down to leave hickeys along your neck. "Tell me."

You shake your head, already beginning to feel your climax build. "No," you whisper.

Az slows down his hand, just enough to cause your pleasure to subside. "No what."

Smug bastard.

You offer him a sweet, innocent smile. "No, sir."

"There's those manners," he murmurs. He removes his hand, and you cry out at the sudden feeling of emptiness. He runs a soothing hand over your hip, moving it down to grasp his cock. "Take it. Take your pleasure, baby."

You wrap your hands around him, marveling at the fact that your fingertips don't touch. You hover over him just long enough for you to line him up with your pussy. In a quick move, you slam your hips down, seating him into the hilt.

"Fuck," he snarls, throwing his head back against the tub. "You take my cock so well, angel."

You begin to move, slamming yourself down over and over. You don't care about the fact that the water is splashing all over the floor. You are only focused on him, on the way his cock fits perfectly inside of you like it was made for you and you for him. You run your fingers over his chest, digging your nails in to leave marks across his Illyrian tattoos. "You fill me up so good. Nobody has ever made me feel like this, and nobody else will." You lean forward to trace your tongue across the skin of his neck, loving the feeling of his strained muscles. "You're perfect for me."

He moans at the praise coming from your lips, at the feeling of your tongue along his skin. He grips your hips in his hands as he begins to fuck you, meeting your thrusts with his own. Your eyes roll back as you feel him hitting that tender spot deep inside of you over and over again.

Through your mindless pleasure, you notice his wings have moved in slightly, wrapping themselves around you. You grip his face gently in your hand to get his attention. "Can I?" you ask quietly. You had never touched his wings, and you would understand if he wasn't ready for that yet.

His gaze softens as he realizes what you are asking. "Yes. Of course."

You smirk at him as you move your hands up. "Nothing crazy for now." In each hand, you grip his talons at the end of his wings. "My mate has made me tired and sore, so I could just use some leverage."

You hold his wings, keeping your eyes on Azriel as you keep moving, grinding your hips down so that your clit rubs against his pelvic bone. You feel his shadows begin to dance across your heated skin, running across your sensitive nipples.

"You're. So. Fucking. Beautiful," he roars, accentuating each word with a powerful thrust of his hips. "All mine. All mine." He says the words like a prayer, and you send up your own prayer to the Mother, thanking her for blessing you with such a wonderful mate.

The bathroom is filled with the sound of your combined moans, and the sinfulness of it causes your tether to snap. You scream as your climax slams into you, gripping his talons tightly.

"That's it, love," Azriel moans, fucking you through it. "Give me your pleasure." His eyes roll back into his head as you milk him. With a final deep thrust, Azriel follows you, filling you with ropes of his cum.

You gently release his wings, moving your hands down to cup his face. You run your thumbs across his high cheekbones, noting every freckle dusting the top of his nose. "I love you," you whisper.

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. He nuzzles his face into your neck, breathing in your scent that is now mixed with his. "I love you more," he responds. He wraps his wings tightly around you, forming what looks like a cocoon.

The two of you had wasted so much time, so many years. Now, there would be no more wasted time. You would love him with all of your strength, and you knew he would love you with all of his. That new bond glows brightly within your chest, and you smile at the feeling of it.

Forever wouldn't be long enough to be with him, but every forever starts with a beginning.

This was only the beginning.

taglist: @lilah-asteria @ivy-34

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

TF141 taking you on a picnic date 💐

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

They're a little very all over the place because I wrote all of them on different days lol

I hope you'll enjoy it anyway <3

Some NSFW for all of them, but it's just a little bit at the very end, the rest is sweet fluff!!

Lmk who you would go on a picnic date with!

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

John is such a romantic.

Maybe not the flashy kind, but in subtle and sincere ways. He would absolutely love to take you on a picnic date, he might even be more excited about it than you are.

You know how girls have those dreams of specific dates or scenarios??? Well, boys have that too, and this is John's. He finds the perfect spot, a secluded park with a field of wildflowers that bloom beautifully in the summer.

As ready as he was to organize the whole thing himself in the matter of a day, he'd adore to organize it with you. Write a grocery list, make some homemade goods, pack up the car. The domesticity makes his heart do flips.

"Do you reckon champagne would be too over the top?"

"John, honey, we're going on a picnic."

"Touchè."

And it's 100% fool proof.

This man has something planned for every single scenario because nothing will ruin this for him. He'll hold your umbrella while he gets soaked if he has to.

He hasn't asked you to marry him yet, but this seals the deal for him. He's already imagining going on a picnic like this on every single anniversary until you're physically unable to.

Did he overdo it a bit with the outfit? Maybe, but he couldn't care less about potential grass stains when his white button-down shirt and his beige slacks basically make you drool.

John insisted on a classic picnic basket, but he'll accept input regarding the pattern of the blanket. He's so utterly in love with you it's ridiculous. And when you come down the stairs in a flowy and floral sundress the blood in his body doesn't know where to rush first, his heart or his cock.

"Fucking hell, dove. You look divine."

He makes heart eyes at you but also has a raging hard on. What can he say? You keep him balanced.

John has to try so hard not to drop to his knees in front of you and beg. For what? He doesn't even know. It just feels like the right thing to do with you looking like a goddess. He loves it when he can press his nose against your soft mound all while his forehead rests on your pudgy tummy and your fingers card through his hair.

The drive there is lovely. The sun is out, it's a comfortable temperature, and the mood is high. The windows are rolled down, and you both sing along to music while his hand is planted firmly in yours. The location is even more beautiful than you thought. There's willow trees and all kinds of sweet smelling flowers accompanied by the symphony of busy bees and chirping birds.

After everything is set up, it's the best day of your life, probably. It's so so so nice.

And yes, he did bring the champagne.

Your head is in his lap while he strokes your hair and feeds you bits of cake. It's so romantic that it's sickening. SICKENING, I say. He's just so perfect. You talk and laugh, and it's so fun. T

he day goes by in the blink of an eye, and suddenly, it's golden hour, and John swears you're heaven on earth. You're so pretty, and he wants nothing more than to kiss you silly, frankly.

So he does.

Just bristly and sloppy kisses wherever he can reach, your cheeks, jaw, neck. You shift your position, you're now lying down on the blanket, facing each other. The tips of your noses touch, and you're a tangled mess of limbs.

John wants to fuck you more than he ever wanted anything in his life, but he's a man of style, so rubbing you through your panties until your hips buck away from his hand will have to do until you get home and he can take care of you properly <3

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Johnny only wants to spend time with you. He doesn't care how.

He'll do anything to be by your side. Such a clingy bastard but we all love him for that. He loves being outside, and now he gets to let out his romantic side, too???? He's sold.

I'm also firmly convinced that he listened in on what his sisters gushed about in books or movies, and he uses that as his guideline for dates.

He makes sure there's a variety of different foods. Let's be honest he probably packed way too much, but he just wants to have options! Frankly, Johnny's is positively buzzing with excitement to get to spend such a lovely day with you.

As much as he loves to laze around with you on the couch, he needs air to breathe. So anything that's outside is an immediate yes from him. He's so so so excited that he doesn't shut up about it for days before the actual date.

Johnny is 100% one to overpack. He takes absolutely EVERYTHING, and you end up not even using half of it.

"I- Johnny??"

"Yeah, bonnie?"

"Why, for the love of God, did you bring a hazmat suit???"

"Ya never know!"

He will pack so many outdoor activities, like frisbee, badminton, a football, literally so much but you don't end up using any of it because he'll doze off as the sun shines down on the both of you.

He just can't help it! Your pudgy tummy is such a nice pillow, and the way your fingers rake through his mohawk and over his scalp nearly make his eyes roll into the back of his head.

He doesn't notice the smiles and nice looks the pair of you get from bypassers, but you can't help but giggle. It makes your belly jiggle, which in turn makes Johnny smile, still face down in your soft fat.

After he wakes up, though, there's a lot of talking that you'll happily listen to.

Corny jokes, overexaggerated stories from missions or his family, and from time to time, he'll get distracted by your pretty face with all its soft edges and kiss you.

Constant snacking. I mean, we all know the boys can EAT, but Johnny is such a foodie. Will eat everything and anything.

He also LOVES Irn Bru. It's definitely more of an... acquired taste, shall we say, but I think it's also very nostalgic for him.

He doesn't care what you wear. However, there are some things that get him feral. Sundresses are obviously on the list, but he adores long skirts. He likes how they flow when there's a nice breeze, and he thinks they make you look very elegant.

He will play into the whole Princess charade with long skirts or dresses.

"There's ma princess. Are ya ready to depart, m'lady?"

He will also bow very dramatically.

Undoubtedly, his favorite part of those skirts is when he gets to push them up your plush thighs and bury is face in your sweet cunt while the fabric is bunched up around your wide hips and fiddles with the hem because his goal is to bring you to bliss with his tongue only <3

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Kyle loves the water.

I don't know why, but I feel it in my bones. From streams and lakes all the way to the great big ocean. His casual style in the summer would definitely be coastal grandson, too.

So your picnic date would obviously take place in the vinicty of water. It's somewhere in a small park that has a nice big lake with lilypads and ducks swimming across it.

You'd be right by the shore, feet in the shallow water while you enjoy your lunch. Kyle is so sweet and considerate!

He'd bring you a bouquet of daisies and lovingly hold your hand in his. If it gets a little too breezy, he'll tuck you into his side and stretch his jacket over the both of you as much as he can.

He always brings you a new rock from that lake when he comes home from his morning run, and when you two are at the beach, he'll collect seashells with you.

It's all about balance and teamwork with Kyle. He makes the sandwiches while you whip up a quick sweet treat. You carry the basket while he has the blanket slung over his shoulder and your drinks in the other hand!

I feel like he'd really enjoy picnics, but they're not his favorite activity. He likes to explore a bit, just sitting around isn't quite his style. But it's nice to just sit and breathe sometimes.

For dates, he prefers the classic going out to dinner. Getting to see you all dressed up in the gentle atmosphere of a cozy restaurant makes his heart swell. But he won't ever deny you anything. Definitely not something as simple as a picnic.

A big smile stretches across his cheeks when he sees a little duck family waddling along the shore before they glide into the water.

"You think we'll have little ducklings of our own one day?"

You can only match his smile as you follow his line of sight.

"Who knows, maybe."

He pulls you close and presses a kiss to your temple. The picnic is starting to grow on him.

"... did you mean actual ducklings, or was it a metaphor for kids?"

"Both?"

As badly as you want to call him ridiculous, the mental image of Kyle with a duckling or a baby makes your heart beat with affection.

Also does not care what you wear, but he, too, has a weakness for sundresses as all men do. The way it hugs your ass, your tummy, and your supple tits makes him want to sink his teeth into your soft flesh.

An absolute sucker for a square neckline. No, I can not elaborate. You'll just have to take my word for it.

You watch the sunset together, the park becoming emptier as the light fades. He loves how you look during the golden hour and will gently hold your face to admire all your pretty features. Kyle likes that the park now only has the both of you and a pair of swans that swim over the lake like lovers.

What he loves even more is making you ride his slender fingers while the only sounds that fill the air is the chirping of cicadas and your heavenly moans while the remnants of the golden sun shine down on you making you look like a dream come true <3

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Simon isn't thrilled, let's say.

When he thinks of picnics he thinks of big open spaces, obnoxious people with annoying kids and uncomfortable wooden benches. Of which none are his cup of tea.

So you make compromises. Talk about it and ask what he would be okay with. He isn't the biggest fan of PDA, he's stuck between wanting to show off his love for you to the whole world and keeping it close to his heart like the sacred thing that it is.

But Simon perks up when you mention something about a lovely forest that's pretty secluded. Now that he can work with. Even though he's a born city boy, he'd much rather take a walk in a forest or on a little trail than on the busy streets of Manchester or London.

So he agrees, deciding that your excited reaction and thank you kisses were already worth it. He watches as you prepare the lunch you're taking with you, answering all your questions on what he'd prefer.

The truth, he'd eat rocks if your lovely hands prepared them.

He packs up the car and drives to the car park nearby, grumbling over the fee before it all melts away when he sees your smile.

The walk there on its own is nice. Holding your hand and listening to the birdsong that echoes along the tall trees. Of course, he's carrying everything.

You will never ever have to carry anything with him around, not on his watch. It's his way of repaying you for taking care of him and loving him. He would've carried you as well if you weren't so fussy about it.

When you set up the blanket and just lay down, it's the first time you think you've ever seen his shoulders untense on their own.

Simon's eyes even flutter shut, and his breath evens out.

It's just the two of you in a little glade with the vast green of the woods making your own little sanctuary.

Your head is on his shoulder, and his nose is buried in your hair.

"This.. this is nice."

He speaks so softly as if not to disturb the peace of nature. You can't help but smile and press a kiss to his cheek.

"I'm glad you think so. It is really nice."

It's mostly pleasant silence after that with the occasional short conversation, but that's how you like it best.

When you hand him his lovingly prepared sandwich, he catches your chin between his fingers and kisses you so softly that you melt right into his touch.

"You're so patient with me, love. I appreciate it."

"Of course. A few compromises aren't the end of the world if it means you're happy."

He's a fucking goner, okay.

He loves it when you wear one of his sweat jackets or flannels over a nice dress. It's so obviously not yours which signals to other people that you're taken.

And considering the size and color of the thing, it's safe to assume it belongs to that hunk of a man always by your side.

He lays back onto the soft blanket and pulls you onto his chest, wrapping his arms around you. There are a few sun spots shining through the thick canopy of leaves, warming your skin.

You're half asleep, dozing off, ignoring the way he fiddles with his trousers until he pushes your panties to the side and sinks his thick cock into your pussy, having you warm his length. It makes him feel so impossibly close to you and his brain melts and before you know it, he's snoring beneath you, his dick buried inside of you <3

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

I hope you liked it! <3

More CoD and other works -> 💫

[angel-of-the-moons]

Miguel being cockwarmed?

Asdhepnfonelnlfbleb I LOVE YOU???

A Lesson Earned is A Lesson Learned

Miguel x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: SMUT, NSFW, teasing, cockwarming, dirty talk, Miguel's big ass hands

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

You loved your boyfriend, more than anybody else you've ever been romantically involved with.

Whatever you would give him, he would give back tenfold. Yeah, it was a bit suffocating at times, but you knew it was only because he was afraid of losing you like he'd lost his daughter.

He'd spoil you when you let him, but sometimes you simply had to tell him you weren't a material kinda girl. Physical affection, sweet words, and cuddles were what satisfied you most.

That and... Well. His hands. You'd be lying if having your shoulders or back or whatever part of you he wanted in his gigantic hands, kneading and rolling you into utter bliss didn't get you going.

And just one of his fingers was thick enough to stretch you better than some of your toys did. And yeah, sometimes you needed toys for relief when he worked so much.

His work with Alchemax and running the Spider Society left him quite busy. You weren't hurt by this, but it did make you feel lonely and rather... uppity.

So of course when he was home you paid him back in kind, teasing him relentlessly.

You would wear next to nothing, sexy lingerie, or maybe one of his gigantic tops that you were practically swimming in, not bothering with any panties beneath.

You knew full well with his super senses, that he could smell your arousal, especially if the tent in his pants were anything to go by.

But, he stayed glued to his monitors in his office, ignoring his erection and the sweet intoxicating smell of your slick all through his house. His sense of duty was strong, focused.

It aggravated you to no end.

So, with your cheek puffed out in irritation, you marched into his office, dimly lit save for the projections of his monitors as he scoured Alchemax work and reports from the other Spiders back at HQ.

"Miggy..." You sigh, coming up next to him in his chair.

"Hm?" He said, not looking at you.

But you can tell by how his nostrils flared and his pupils dilated that your scent was starting to get to him.

His gorgeous, chiseled jaw clenched almost imperceptibly as he swiped and pinched up another monitor.

You pouted and slipped your arm around his shoulder, sitting on the arm of his chair, knowing full well your sweet sweet nectar was coating the expensive leather; the scent would linger for a while, until he completely cleaned it and sterilized it.

You placed kisses up to his ear, then back down to where his suit collar ended, just beneath his pulse.

"Muñeca..." Miguel warned. "I'm working."

"I know, but I think you're working too hard." You sigh in his ear, taking his lobe between your lips and running your tongue along the edge.

He hissed at you. "Cállate, mujer diablo, estoy haciendo algo importante."

You frowned and ignored his warning. Instead, you leaned in, your breasts squishing against the heavy muscle of his bicep, and reached down, stroking the outline of his cock that was straining his suit with your small hand.

"C'mon, Miggy. You're a workaholic." You coo playfully. "Just let me..."

He gripped your wrist when your hand went to his watch to disable his suit.

His eyes were sharp, annoyed. It sent a thrum of fear through your bloodstream as he curled his lip back, revealing his crooked, fanged teeth as he sneered at you.

"You want to annoy me? Fine." He reached out and gripped your hair, pulling your head back sharply, before his breath was hot in your ear.

"Pero recuerda que yo tengo el control."

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

You should have known.

God, but you never learn, do you? Every time you think he's going to do something you want, he does the opposite.

Just to reach you a lesson.

"Stop squirming." He huffed, reaching around you to type in notes on his holographic keyboard.

You whined, trying desperately to grind your hips down, to get his cock just a bit deeper inside of you, wanting so badly to have him just pin you to the desk and pound you until your eyes crossed.

But he kept you firmly secured in his lap. He wouldn't let you touch yourself, you had to keep your hands gripped at the arms of the desk chair that creaked under your combined weight.

He kept you from moving, his thick thighs parting your knees and keeping your legs spread open for him while he continued to work.

"Miggy!" You mewled. "Please! Sorry for bugging you, I just--"

He growled and reached between your legs, pinching your clit between his thumb and forefinger hard, a mix of pain and pleasure sparking up your spine and making your pussy flutter around the length of his cock that was currently splitting you open.

You make a sharp squeak as he snapped, "¿Qué acabo de hacer?"

He smacked your cunt that he was currently stuffed inside of, sending another wave of heat racing through you, more of your slick gushing around him to run down to his heavy balls and staining the expensive leather.

"I said keep quiet. I'm working."

He leaned in, his presence absolutely absorbing your frame, his scent swallowing you whole, threatening to devour you in one piece.

"This is what you wanted, no?" He sighed. "You wanted me inside this pretty little pussy. You got me. Now sit still."

You hiccuped softly. "Please. You know I wanted you to fuck me! Not like this..."

"Too bad, mi amor. I swear, if I had a dollar off every time I have to keep teaching you this lesson, I'd be a trillionare." He said to you, his voice a low threat.

"How many times do I have to do this before you learn patience? Hmm? A hundred? A thousand?"

You desperately roll your hips, feeling the tip of his rock brush against that gummy soft spot inside of you. "I--I just--"

He hisses, gritting his teeth as his fangs slot into their places. He brings his hand up to the lowest part your abdomen, and pressed down hard.

You all at once felt the air squeezed out of your lungs, your pussy greedily squeezing him, your heart pounding in your chest, sweat beading on your brow and sweet tears rolling down your cheeks.

"You're going to sit here and stay still while I work. And maybe--maybe--if you stay quiet and stop squirming, I'll give you what you want. Understood?"

You frantically nod your head and Miguel cruelly flicked your clit.

"That's it. Be a good little cocksleeve for me, eh, bebita?"