#he saw him dressed and had to UNDRESS HIM

[watchyourbuck]

*Buck in a suit prancing around the 118*

Eddie: *seeing him for the first time in a suit* damn

Hen: you good there, Diaz?

Eddie:

Hen:

Eddie:

Eddie: *getting up and running* yeah no I need to tap that ass immediately

[pseudowho]

Motherhood had altered your 'turn-ons'; not that you lusted after mankind as a whole-- Kento was enough.

His cologne, split with the smooth tang of sweat on work-ripened skin. His hands, alternately gentle and rough, peach-handling or blade-wielding. The authority only the world saw; the authority only you felt.

Dressed-up, dressed-down, undressed, dressing you down, undressing you. Breaking you only to reform you with gold, tied with red thread, whispering you to completion in the dark sacred night.

So (you corrected yourself, as you watched Kento jog after your daughter at the indoor play centre) motherhood had not altered your turn-ons; it had added to them. Stacking high now, you considered the tower of your adoration was just as likely to be stable, as unstable; its endurance or toppling entirely at Kento's mercy.

The arrival at soft-play was a sensory nightmare-- one of many you could tolerate as a mother when you wouldn't have, before.

Obnoxious children's music blared, cut by screams and shouts and cries and calls and whirls and swirls of kids darting and weaving, watched and unwatched, by helicopters or the disinterested. The cocktail was potent, spiked. Your headache started behind your left eye.

Kento saw you. He was unfairly loaded at his own insistence, with change-bag and snack-bag and car keys and your daughter, planking and chattering, a possessed surfboard beneath his arm.

"Sit down-- have a coffee." Kento rumbled, low and slow, unclipping his watch into your cupped hands as you began to argue. "You've had her all week. You need a break."

"You've been at work all week, Kento, you need a break--"

"Don't argue. You know it's not the same. Sit down. Have a coffee."

He lied to you for your benefit; you could feel the bone-deep weariness of him, surely needing a day of sofa-bound naps over a day of childrearing. Alas; parenthood. And he would continue to take bullets for you, even to his own detriment. You knew this. You had planned ahead for this.

As you peered down at your phone, smiling at an eagerly awaited reply, your daughter piped up, bouncing on little toes, her pigtails bouncing too.

"'lide, daddy. Let's go fast. Faster. Race you."

Kento hummed, smiling. "Slide, you mean?"

"I said it. 'lide." Your daughter moved to dart to the towering play area, a flash of lightning into a maelstrom, and you caught her. Kento was distracted, looking into the swarm of other peoples' children, oddly, as he looked at a swarm of Curses. You whispered into your daughters' ear as Kento slipped his boots off.

"Hey, missus, listen."

Your baby girl perked up, sweet and conspiratorial, goofy-teethed and dimple-cheeked, whispering back.

"What is it, mummy?"

"I've got a surprise for daddy. So don't tell him...come here, mummy needs to whisper."

Lips at an ear; tiny hands clasping over a mouth, fizzlepopping with excitement. A long finger against lips; a little finger against lips. A secret pact.

"Are you ready, young lady? I'll get you in three...two..."

Kento reached down for your daughter, his hands clawed, a wolfish grin on his lips. Your daughter knew what it meant; she shrieked with panicked laughter, bolting. The monster formerly known as 'Daddy' dashed after her.

The coffee was shit; you didn't mind, instead hyperfocused on how Kento and your daughter would dip out of sight into the rainbow maze, only to reappear minutes later, with Kento looking more ravaged each time.

On the first loop round, Kento looked unfazed, unruffled, still clipped in his t-shirt and jeans. You simply admired the sultry half-smile he offered you, and the cling of fabric to his thick biceps, before he swept after your daughter again.

On the fifth loop round, flicks of hair escaped over Kento's forehead, the veins on his arms prominent from throwing and tumbling and monstering. He panted, his muscle so much heavier to carry than your birdlike daughter's personal load. Kento's playful growl, running after your giggling daughter, was deeper; huskier. You squirmed, sipping your shit latte.

On the eleventh loop round, a fine sheen of sweat misted Kento's forehead, a flush dashed on high cheekbones. His broad chest heaved, and he stretched his arms back, cracking his neck from side-to-side, with a groan usually heard only when he exerted himself above you, for less wholesome pleasures.

With furrowed brows, Kento prowled the bottom of the slide, and your daughter shrieked, scrabbling to get away from him as he lunged. Your daughter was bicep-curled up to Kento's face, laughing uproariously at his ferocious tummy-raspberries, before being set free, once more, for the hunt. You could not cope, aching, desperately hoping you had the energy left to sweat for him at the end of the day.

By the twenty-first? twenty-third? twenty-fifth? loop round, Kento jogged to a heavy halt, his shoulder blades taut as he bent double, hands braced against his own knees. You heard him panting, cursing under his breath, one long rusty groan. It was all too much-- Kento needed a break. You were unhinged and unsupervised. Surely there had to be some relief--

"Yo, Mrs.Nanamin! Am I late?"

A vision in peach, Yuuji flopped into the chair opposite you, with hands in his pockets and man-spread with a square-jawed, boyish grin. He stood taller than Kento, now, a full-grown man...but still shrunk beneath Kento's chastisement and lectures.

"Right on time, Yuuji. Are you sure you don't mind? It's all a bit..." You looked into the raucous soft-play, searching for words, "...feral."

Yuuji beamed, ruffling his own hair and kicking his shoes off. "Nah. I was gonna go to the gym anyway, but this seems more fun as workouts go."

You called out to your daughter as she reached the bottom of the slide, and Kento looked up, sweating and exhausted. "Baby! Your big brother's here!"

A gasp of thrill from your daughter, and Kento was all but forgotten by her as she pelted towards Yuuji instead, leaping into his arms. She slapped his scrunched cheeks, aggressively overjoyed.

"Big brother-- big brother-- big brother--"

"Yeah yeah, little sister, little sister-- c'mon squirt, I'm gonna getcha! Hey-- Dad--- uh, Nanamin! Gotta go!"

Kento watched his children run away with dewy eyes, his body still thickened by exercise and heavy breaths. You bit your lip as Kento approached, eyes half-lidded as you drank him in. You watched his Adam's apple bob as he gulped back water and gasped, husky with relief.

"God, I love that boy." Kento rumbled.

You melted to see Yuuji reach the bottom of the slide with your daughter on his lap. "Yeah...me too."

"He's saved my life...three times, now."

You laughed, your eyes dipped, tugging Kento to you by the hem of his t-shirt and beckoning him down with one curled finger.

"Think you'll still have some energy later?" You whispered, your breaths mingling with promise.

Kento's eyes narrowed, glimmering, his nose kissing yours. "For that? Always."

[bi-writes]

Simon short circuiting when his mail order bride does something kind for him :)) uses her new credit card to buy him his favorite tea and cat treats for bonding with his new baby <3

mail-order bride

simon lets out a deep breath as he slips his boots off. he pulls his tact vest over his head, dropping it beside his shoes before rolling out his neck. he's exhausted. he's been awake for 36 hours at least, and not even a few hours ago, he had been camped out on a rooftop with nothing but his sniper rifle for company.

you pad into the living room, dressed in cute cherry-printed pajamas. little shorts with a matching short-sleeve top, and you smile shyly when you see him standing by the door. your eyes wander a little; you've never seen him with his gear on, and he's surprised you're not more startled by the skull mask he's wearing.

his head darts to the side when he sees the cat hopping along the shelves on the wall. the cat launches itself off the closest shelf, landing on the back of his shoulders and nuzzling along the back of his head before dropping onto the floor to weave between his legs.

"welcome home," you say softly, coming closer, and simon just nods. you reach up when you get closer, slipping your hands under his hoodie to find the hem of his mask. you pull it up gently over his head, smiling a little wider when you reveal his face underneath. he has eye-black smudged around his eyes, but otherwise, your husband looks his normal self, aside from the dark circles under his eyes.

you understand immediately that simon isn't in a good mood. he's irritated, tired, sour-faced and agitated. you smooth your hands down his chest before kneeling on the carpet. simon blinks, confused, but then he watches as you start to unbuckle the holsters around his thighs. you get him undressed enough that he's just wearing his jeans and his hoodie, and he takes your hand gently to help you stand back up. you hook your pinkie around his, guiding him to take a seat on the couch before you disappear into the kitchen.

simon leans his head back against the couch, shutting his eyes gently. to come home to a warm place, one filled with another person, it's frighteningly comforting. he has always come home to the dark. to the heater off and all the rooms empty. to silence and his own terrifying thoughts.

"simon?"

he opens his eyes and sits up a little, blinking the sleep away as you come closer. he hums when he sees you holding a mug, walking slow as you try and keep it steady. you hand him the mug, watching as he takes a slow sip of it.

he shuts his eyes, letting out a shaky breath. it's perfect. he's never told you how he prefers his tea, but it's got just a splash of milk and nothing more. the thoughtfulness warms him more than the drink does, and he curls his toes a little as he tries not to think about it too hard.

"oh!" you smile. "i-i...i filled your car up, and i-i got you something when i went to get a water."

you scurry towards your purse by the door, rummaging through it before you pull out a little crinkled paper bag. you sit next to him on the couch and hand it to him after he sets his tea down on the coffee table.

he reaches into the bag and wraps his hand around a little plastic trinket, pulling it out. he blinks, hooking a gloved finger through the little keychain he's holding. he holds it up, face neutral, but after a few moments, a low chuckle leaves him.

it's a little skeleton, and the bones of it wiggle and dance when he shakes it.

"i...i thought of you when i saw it," you laugh a little, and he watches as the cat hops up onto your lap, moving over your legs to sniff at the little skeleton simon is holding up. after a few moments, the cat reaches up with a paw and smacks the skeleton, watching it shake and wiggle before smacking it again.

"yeah?" simon murmurs, meeting your eyes. "you miss me?"

"y-yes...yeah. w-we missed you."

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Beneath a Dragon's Gaze

Summary: With Madame Sylvi indisposed on the evening Prince Aemond comes to visit, he requests someone different | Word Count: 1.7k~ | Warnings: sex work, smut, hair pulling, biting, titty sucking, darkish Aemond

A/N: saw ep 3 and felt silly 😁 not proofread an inch

“The Prince has asked for you.”

She could not help the wide-eyed look and the familiar flipping of her stomach, now feeling entirely different with the words that had come from her fellow woman’s lips. The Prince. Well, it could have meant either of them only weeks before, but no longer. They frequented this establishment quite often, as an upper-class brothel, with only the finest whores and service, it was only natural, and they had the coin to pay for it.

Suddenly, she felt quite cold in the sheer dress she had chosen that evening, doing very little to conceal the flesh that hid beneath, her nipples having formed peaks against the satin. What could she possibly say to that? There was no possibility of refusing. 

“Very well,” she responded, knowing it was not her place to question. There was no question as to which now, it was most certainly the very same who frequented for the warm embrace and soothing voice of Madame Sylvi, who spent hours in her company and paid her a hefty price for it. For secrecy. But she knew just as well that the only reason Aemond had requested her instead, was because on this night, his usual appointment was indisposed. 

Her heart raced as she slalomed through the scantily clad crowd, each step bringing her closer to the corner where the prince awaited. The halls were dimly lit, the soft glow of candlelight casting flickering shadows that danced along the walls, alongside those of curved figures, twisted with pleasure. She could hear the muted sounds of such from the other rooms, but they did little to quell the nervousness that gripped her.

When she reached the curtain, she paused for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady herself. The Prince. Aemond Targaryen. Known for his fierce demeanour and sharp intellect, he was not a man to be trifled with. Yet, beneath that cold exterior, she had heard whispers of a man burdened by the weight of his family.

Sliding the curtain across, met with the Prince, eyepatch already discarded and down only to his breeches, sat with cup in hand on the plush settee, his lone eye raising to her as she dipped for a curtsy. She felt her throat close at the sight of the sapphire, somewhat mirroring what was happening between her thighs.

"Madame Sylvi sends her apologies, my prince. She is unable to attend to you this evening."

Aemond's gaze lingered on her for a moment, and she felt her cheeks flush under his scrutiny. "I did not call for Sylvi tonight," he said finally, his tone giving nothing away. "I called for you."

Her lips parted to question. But she dare not let the words free. She was not one to ask about his intentions, a mere whore.

“Undress.”

The Prince’s eye never wavered as he watched, flesh revealed as she bared herself to him. He stood as if uncurling himself, finishing what was left in his cup before moving his hands to unlace his breeches, his head gesturing to the settee.

“Get on your hands and knees.”

His commanding tone made those flutters awaken once more. She had been employed at this establishment for so long, of course being naked and bared to an abundance of men was second nature. But there was something about the way he wanted her, the way it seemed not spurred by desire of any kind, but a need, like air, that ignited her nerves that she had not felt since her first few days in this line of work.

Still, bare arsed and exposed to a Prince, was a different matter entirely.

She felt his presence behind her, knowing he was naked as his thighs brushed against hers. He nudged her knees apart and pushed gently on her spine, encouraging her to arch her back. Though she could not see his face, the rippled design of the copper in front of her reflected enough for her to sense the detachment in his actions. So, she remained silent.

Prince Aemond guided himself to her centre, barely wet, and pushed his cockhead inside. He had barely breached her when his hands gripped the flesh of her buttocks, watching intently as his cock slowly slid deeper into her cunt, being swallowed by her body. She closed her eyes, the lack of preparation making the act more uncomfortable than pleasurable, but she hoped that with time, her arousal would ease the discomfort.

As Prince Aemond continued to push himself inside her, she focused on her breathing, trying to relax her body and ease the discomfort. The room was silent except for their breaths, the flickering candlelight casting shadows that danced on the walls. Each inch he gained felt like a stretch, a challenge to her body's readiness, but she bit her lip, determined to endure.

His hands, firm on her buttocks, began to knead her flesh, his grip alternating between gentle caresses and possessive squeezes. The friction built steadily, her body slowly acclimating to his presence. The initial pain started to fade, replaced by a growing warmth and the stirrings of pleasure.

Aemond moved with a deliberate pace, his thrusts measured and controlled. He seemed intent on watching every inch of his cock as it disappeared inside her, his breathing heavy and laboured. She could feel his intensity, the way he held back his own urges to maintain that slow, torturous rhythm.

Despite the initial discomfort, her arousal began to build. Her body responded to his movements, her inner walls slickening and accommodating his length with increasing ease. Soft moans escaped her lips, unbidden but honest, as pleasure began to mix with the remnants of pain.

Aemond's hands slid from her buttocks to her hips, pulling her back against him with each thrust. The new angle allowed him to go deeper, hitting spots inside her that sent jolts of pleasure through her body. Her fingers clenched the sheets beneath her, seeking some anchor as the sensations intensified.

He leaned forward, his breath hot against her ear. "Do you feel that?" he murmured, his voice husky and edged with restraint. "Do you feel how you take me in?"

"Yes, my prince," she gasped, her voice trembling with the effort to maintain composure. "I feel it."

Aemond's pace quickened slightly, his control slipping as his own desire took precedence. The sound of their bodies meeting filled the room, a rhythmic, primal music that spoke of need and release. Her moans grew louder, her body arching and pushing to meet his thrusts, seeking the pleasure that now consumed her.

With a sudden, possessive grip, Aemond's hand tangled in her hair, pulling her head back to expose her neck. His lips found her skin, teeth grazing lightly before he bit down, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to claim. The sensation sent a shiver down her spine, her body responding with an involuntary clench around his cock.

He groaned against her neck, the sound vibrating through her. "Take me, all of me," he whispered, his voice filled with approval and satisfaction. 

She surrendered to the sensations, her body melting into his as pleasure overwhelmed her. Every thrust, every touch, every whispered word from Aemond drove her closer to the edge. The discomfort was a distant memory now, replaced by a wave of ecstasy that built with each passing second. His movements so erratic, his stones clapped against her womanhood with every harsh push, slapping against her bud in a steady, unyielding rhythm.

The sensation pushed her over the edge, her own climax washing over her in a powerful, all-consuming wave. She cried out, her body convulsing around him, every nerve ending alight with pleasure. Finally, with a deep, guttural moan, Aemond drove himself to the hilt inside her once more, his body shuddering and then withdrawing quickly as he found his release and coated her buttocks and thighs with his pearly spend.

They stayed like that for a moment, both catching their breath, their bodies still joined. Slowly, Aemond released his grip on her hair and hips, his hands soothing over the marks he'd left. He pulled out of her velvety walls gently, leaving her feeling both spent and fulfilled.

She expected him to leave, to gather his clothes and slip away into the night, as most men often do with a flick of their coin into her lap. But instead, Aemond surprised her. He curled into her body, his head resting against her chest. His lips found her breast, mouthing at her skin with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the intensity of their earlier encounter. His hand moved to her other breast, caressing it with a gentle, almost reverent touch.

She looked down at him, her fingers threading through his silver, moonlit hair. He seemed to take more pleasure in this simple intimacy than she did, as if seeking comfort rather than mere satisfaction. His eyes were closed, his breathing steadying as he continued to nuzzle her chest.

"I hate it," he murmured after a long silence, his voice muffled against her skin.

She blinked, unsure of his meaning. "Hate what, my prince?"

Aemond shifted slightly, his hand stilling on her breast. "Sometimes, I think Madame Sylvi just says anything to appease me. She tells me what she thinks I want to hear, not what she truly believes."

There was a bitterness in his tone that caught her off guard. "Why do you think that?" she asked softly, her thumb stroking the back of his neck.

Aemond's grip on her breast tightened slightly, and she felt a shiver of unease. His lips brushed against her nipple, then his teeth grazed it, sending a jolt through her body. "Because it's easier for her," he said, his voice lower, more dangerous. "Because I'm a prince, and she fears offending me."

She gasped softly at the sensation, the mix of pleasure and pain reminding her of the precarious balance between comfort and control. "But you deserve honesty, my prince," she managed to say, her voice trembling.

He bit down a little harder, enough to make her wince. "Do I?" he asked, his tone a warning. "Or do I deserve the truth, no matter how it feels?"

Her heart raced, the threat in his words unmistakable. "The truth, my prince," she whispered, trying to maintain her composure. "Always the truth."

Aemond's teeth released her nipple, his tongue soothing the sting. He looked up at her, his eye fierce and unyielding. The sapphire lodged in the other piercing and dark. 

"Good," he said, his voice a soft growl. "Because I have no patience for lies, no matter how pretty they are."

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blackswxnn @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch

@castellomargot @emmaisafictionwhore @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @justbelljust

@minholy223 @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @primonizzutto

@qyburnsghost @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince

[sunsburns]

okay but logan taking an interest in neighbor who works in fashion?? he always sees her carrying stacks of magazines, dressed in her chic attire that is sometimes a bit too tight in all the right areas, glasses slipping off her nose, always making calls on that damn phone, and yet he always wishes she looked his way…

oh anon ur cooking here. i think this is what's pulling me out of my writing slump 🥴 (wade breaking the fourth wall, suggestive 16+)

the first time he noticed you, it wasn't even in your building complex, but rather the stairs to the subway station down the street. you were rushing up the steps while he, wade, laura and al were just about to enter. it was al who noticed you first, calling out your name and poking your side with her walking staff.

you shrieked, dropping one of the fabric rolls you had been carrying, a curse at the tip of your tongue before you realized who it was. "al," you sighed, a little relieved, when you saw her and wade, who was dressed in a "i love nyc" t-shirt.

logan, being the gentleman he was, picked up the roll you dropped, handing it back to you. it was then that you looked at him, or well, briefly glanced his way with a quick "thank you" before wade started fucking talking.

that son of a bitch.

he didn't even have the courtesy to introduce the two of you to each other.

it was obvious you were in a rush, lips in a tight smile as you nodded and tried to smile at wade telling you all about how they were about to "hit up" times square.

logan felt bad for you, but only a little bit. the longer you stayed to listen to wade's painful monologue, the more he could look at you. he was a little shameless about it, perhaps not the most gentlemanly thing he could've done, but god you were just a sight for sore eyes.

a pretty thing in a mini skirt despite the cool late september breeze that was starting to kick, white, lace and ruffled. delicate with tall brown leather boots. and a washed-out denim vest you wore as a top, two buttons undone, a little pink bow tied to the pocket. logan didn't know a lot about fashion, but he liked the way clothes looked on you.

and then you were gone, al kicking wade across the shin to shut him the hell up when she realized you were in a rush. she let you go, and you left, quickly trading numbers with laura and without saying much of a goodbye or another glance logan's way.

but he watched you go, watched the way your skirt moved with the wind too.

"yeah, look at it bounce. god, i am no better than any man. " wade hummed, leaning all his weight on logan's side. "i didn't peg you as a creep, honey badger. with the way you were undressing the reader with your eyes, i would've thought you were on a registered sex offender's list."

"shut the fuck up, wade."

logan could hear the way laura snorted, her and al continuing their way down the stairs.

wade held his hands up in surrender before logan could try anything (and by anything, he meant to cut him to pieces. wade can't deal with that right now, the blood would take ages to get off his white shirt). "i'm just saying, after living with us for a few months, i would've thought you'd met her by now."

logan raised his brow, "what's that supposed to mean?"

"i mean, she literally lives across the hall." wade turned his head to the side, pointing his thumb at logan, "he can't possibly be this stupid, right? it's gotta be for the plot to build up tension or something."

from that day on, logan's started to notice you more. not that he was looking for you, he's not that big of a creep. but he's spotted you out the window some days, running down the sidewalk, always in a rush. then he was able to hear the way you slam your door shut when you leave in the mornings or when you get back home.

every single day, you're usually out and about. unless it's a sunday, those are the days you stay in your apartment, sewing and hanging out with blind old al and sometimes even fucking laura. turns out, you were the one who got laura all of those new clothes, made them for her.

jesus christ, how out of the loop was he?

you stood out like a sore thumb, always carrying something. whether it be magazines, sketchbooks, fabric rolls, or bags, you're always struggling to open your door when you get home, keys sometimes slipping from your grasp as you're trying to juggle everything.

one day, logan had come back from a run and spotted you in the hallway. well, he had heard you from floors below and was able to pick up the lingering scent of your perfume by the time he entered the lobby. it took him a bit of courage to walk up the few flights of stairs knowing he'd bump into you.

what the fuck was this?

he was a grown-ass man for god's sake. you had him overthinking and blushing at the mere thought of being in the same space again.

when he saw you in the hallway, you were on the phone, the device tucked between your ear and your shoulder, cursing under your breath as you tried to pick up your keys. you were wearing a black dress that day, a black hat and a big maroon scarf around your neck, "no, emily, don't fucking buy it in that colour. it looks like fucking vomit. i don't care what amy told you, she's basically colour blind-"

you stopped mid-sentence when logan appeared in front of you, grabbing the keys for you. "oh- uh. thanks."

"yeah, no problem."

he noticed your nails and glasses were dark red to match the scarf. lipstick too.

you didn't mean to grow flustered in his presence, he could tell from the way you froze, as if you didn't know what was supposed to happen next. he had disrupted your daily pattern, everything in your life moving constantly and quickly but all of a sudden everything is slower. it left you breathless.

"you're logan, right?"

he furrowed his brows. he hadn't expected you to remember him, nevertheless, remember his name. "yeah."

"wade told me all about you," you said, and your eyes dropped from his face a little, then lower, a smirk not too different from a sly cat's. you were staring shamelessly, eyes following every part and curve of his body, the way his long-sleeve shirt clung to his skin with sweat. "you don't seem austrailan."

logan tried not to groan. the picture of wade's stupid face in his mind now that you've mentioned him. he hated that the two of you seemed close. "i'm canadian."

"aren't you full of surprises?" you laughed, a smooth, teasing sound, and finally pushed the keys into the nob, unlocking the door. you turned, lingering by the door as if you were about to invite him in, but then the voice from your phone was trying to get your attention and you nearly seemed disappointed. "i'll see you around, logan."

and you were gone again.

logan liked to see your different outfits every day, dawning a different style every time you walked out that door. it was like you could never settle for one style, but you managed to look so fucking good in everything and every colour you put on.

he could never get tired of it. never get tired of you.

you and your tiny bottoms that he swore were getting smaller and smaller every day, even though the city grew colder and the days shorter. you and your stupid phone calls that sometimes went on late at night. you and your clothes, every single one different from the last.

you and your sketches, the ones he had started to find loose pages on the floor of the small hallway between your apartments, pretty designs of lingerie on a model that looked a little bit too much like you for it to be a coincidence.

though you never made another attempt to talk to him, you knew he was watching you. but you never chased, your heels were too expensive for that. you were just trying to give him a reason to come on you.

to you**

to come to you.*

sorry. typo.

[nicholasgoodgirl]

sin? maybe - father charlie

summary: your priest takes you home and it leads to other things

warning: p in v, oral (m receiving), face fucking, after care, virginity loss.

a/n: chat idk how to feel abt this at all and am too scared to read it back. i swear if i spelling his name wrong the whole time. im deleting this acc off the face of the earth

3:23pm

you were waiting in the rain; unbothered than anything. but there was no denying the tempeture change as the rain continued it was beginning to become unbearable. five minutes turning to ten, ten turning to fifteen. your mom still never came

you walked back into the church drenched from all the rain. your white dress sticking to you, it was still cold in the church nonetheless.

"y/n?" you turn around to your name being called "what are you still doing here?" father charlie asked.

"oh my mom never came to get me" she probably drank to much and passed out somewhere, it was embarrassing to admit but thats the only reason you went to church, so you can be far from her and to be nothing like her.

"you're all wet. how long have you been out there?" you shrug at his question. he tilted his head in observation looking you up and down; his eyes lingering longer on your breast.

that would have normally made you uncomfortable if it were anyone else, but it was father charlie and everyone knew him as the 'hot priest' and they weren't wrong either.

he clears his throat "uh I'll give you a ride home" he gave you a quick smile then grabbed his keys off the alter and on the way out grabbing his umbrella.

he put his hand on your lower back guiding you under the umbrella. he gave you the keys so you can unlock the car "why don't you start the car up while you're at it"

"oh i dunno how" you declined the offer politely but he insisted that you did it anyways so he can hold the umbrella for you.

you open the car door and bend over putting the upper half of your body inside the car and trying to start it up like that instead of actually sitting down. the key wouldn't really turn so you put your knee on the seat getting into the car more. while doing this you could gradually feel your dress raise. something in you just knew he was looking up your dress

you give up "i can't get it to start" he lets out a low chuckle and takes the keys from you and gestures for you to get out the car. you hold the umbrella while he gets in the car to start it up. the engine cuts on and he takes the umbrella from you and walks you to the passanger side and shuts the door behind you.

--

3:34 pm

in the car everything he did and had in his car intrigued you. the way he drives with one hand on the wheel and the other hand rested on his leg. the blankets he had in the backseat, the rosemary cross that was hanging from the rearview mirror

"whats your house adress?" he questioned parking at the stop sign, waiting for your answer.

you shrug again "you don't know where you live?" he probed. you did but it was embarrassing to think about how if your moms boyfriend saw you with a guy he would beat you.

"do you wanna come to my house instead" his question was almost hesitant but i accepted the offer with a smile.

--

4:01 pm

his house was nothing fancy, the aura of the place was comforting. he started a fire in the fireplace and it set a more warm tone in the room.

"you can use my shower. just walk down the hall, it's to your right. I'll bring you a warm towel and clothes"

you walk down the hall and take a turn to the right and find his bathroom. it was definitely not like the bathroom at your house. it was clean the, the scent of father charlie lingered.

you undress then walk over to the shower putting it on hot. a couple minutes into the warm water hitting your body changing your body temperature from cold to warm there was knocks at the door.

"It's unlocked!" i yelled from the shower. and the door opens "i have no actual clothes that you would probably wear to bed but you can wear one of my shirts" ,,don't even worry about it" you reassure

it didn't matter to you, you actually liked the idea of prancing around in that mans shirt. you couldn't forgive yourself for how bad you wanted him to fuck you in the shower.

"well call me if you need anything" he opens the door to leave out. "wait!- wait.. father charlie"

"you can just call me charlie" he corrects. "could you maybe talk to me about your day or anything i don't wanna be alone right now"

you could hear father charlie chuckle at the question "sure. why not"

he began talking about his day while i cleaned myself off. he went into detail about how he made his breakfast and how precise everything had to be. meanwhile i just couldn't get the thought of him talking me through sex.

"you're doing so well"

"how does that feel"

"you need me to slow down" the thought didn't stop it felt so wrong but you needed him. you were giving him hums to let him know you were still listening.

you turn the water off "can you hand me my towel" your hand reaches out of the curtain and you can feel the towel being placed in your hand "thank you"

"can i-" he was cut off by you walking out the shower with just your towel on. he cleared his throat "I'm gonna go" he reached for the door but you grabbed his arm and stopped him.

"will you stop it" he snaps. both his hands grab your arm "stop! im trying so hard not to sin but for fucks sake you're making it nearly impossible"his words comes flying out faster than you could process

"oh.." you mumbled. "y'know we can do something about your little problem" you look down at the buldge in his pants.

he wasnt wearing his vestmant anymore he was just in a black button up with some black formal pants making it more noticeable.

"fucking hell" he grumbled, rolling his eyes. "such a slut. i thought you would have been good. looked so pure" he spat almost like it wasn an insult. "guess not"

"have you ever touched youreslf?" the question wasnt one you would like to answer cause you always felt shame afterwards but nodded anyways avoiding eyes contact; not proud of your doings.

"of course you do" he breathed out "on your knees" ,,what?" you question unsure if you heard him right

"baby you have been so sweet to me so far and I'd hate it if i have to repeat myself"

you drop to your knees and he unbuckles his belt not breaking eye contact with you once. father charlie pulls his pants down and his underwear.

you grab his dick and put it in your mouth. hallowing your cheeks out "look at you taking me so well" he tangles his hand in your hair, grabbing ahold of it and pushing your head forward causing you to gag; you could feel him touching the back of your throat.

"lord please forgive me" he whispered so low it's a suprise you even heard the words come out his mouth

at this point he was just fucking your face, he was watching as his cock disappeared into your mouth. after a while your eyes began to water.

he pulls you away from him "stand up" ,,did i do something wrong?" you ask, letting your towel drop, standing to your feet. wanting to fix any mistake you made along the way. "no sweetheart, you did just fine i just wanna be inside you instead"

he turns you over but you weren't as thrilled about this as he probably was. you were a virgin and too scared to tell him.

he bends you over the counter and you grab ahold of it for support. he lines himself up with you and pushes in

"so fucking tight" he groaned. "wait-" you hit the counter top with your hand "please just wait" you whine

he stops what he's doing and waits for your signal to go "you can move.." my words come out sounding almost strangled.

he pushed in and out of you and for a second you can hear his breath hitch "are you on your period?"

"what!? no" you look behind you and see his lips slowly curl into a smirk "you're a virgin aren't you?" ,,mhm" you nod "even better" he gloated

you could feel his dick hit a spot that made your toes curl. the burning sensation goes away with each rut. you let a few whimpers slip and a grunt with every thrust; your body jolting forward.

he gripped your hips tightly to allow himself to pound into you. you could have sworn you felt his tip hit your cervix.

the sounds of skin slapping against eachother flooded the bathroom "you're such a slut. letting your priest fuck you over a bathroom counter"

he pulled your hair back putting you into a deeper arch, to hit your sweet spot. a guttural moan leaves your lips "oh fuck" you moan.

father charlies hand goes down to your clit rubbing firm circles, sharp uneven breaths pulled through you as you could feel your orgasm approching.

with no warning his warm seed coats your insides, as he rides out his high. his fingers continues to rub in circular motion which makes you finish next; unfolding right there.

you hold his hand to stop him. "im done i can't take anymore" you whisper.

"im sure" he pulls out letting a hiss escape, then walks over to the shower and letting the water run again. the both of you get in and shower together.

he got done before you and while you were still getting clean he made you a snack.

--

5:59 pm

you two were laid in bed. your head resting on father charlies chest while he traces light shapes on your skin.

"what do i tell my mom" you ask. "whatever you want sweet girl" he kissed your head. what were you gonna tell your mom, you were with another man in his shirt. and overall he's the priest of the church you go to.

[altruisticalastor]

↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴

☒ Summary: You tend to Alastor's wounds after the fight with Adam. The weight of almost losing him nearly breaks you.

☒ Warnings: gn!reader, hurt / comfort, implied established relationship, descriptions of injuries and stitching them up, mentions of anxiety, the reader cries a bit, comforting!alastor, and also soft!alastor, one kiss, non-sexual undressing, soft touches

☒ Word Count: 1,010

All you could think of the moment the battle ended was Alastor.

The last you saw of him, he was going head-to-head with Adam. But witnessing Nifty stab the lowly man made you worry something terrible happened to Alastor.

The moment you had a second to breathe, you rushed toward the Radio Demon's tower. A trail of blood leading toward his sanctuary sent a wave of fear down your spine. Your steps quickened at the sight, and all the worst-case scenarios flooded your mind. 

When you swung the door open, the view of Alastor blanketed your body with a cold sweat in the weight of a moment. He was doubled over the control panel, ears pinned flat to his head as the crackle in his voice echoed through the space with each breath he took. 

"Alastor!" You cried out, rushing over to his side in an instant. The sound of you calling his name caused his head to whip around. You wasted no time assessing his injuries, scanning your anxious gaze over his frame. 

"Worry not, my dear," Alastor coughed, blood spilling down the corner of his mouth. Your eyebrows knit in concern as you began raiding his radio tower, frantic to uncover a first aid kit. "Of course, I'm going to worry- you're bleeding all over the place!" You exclaimed, letting out a breath of relief as you found the emergency medical kit. 

Hastily, you began pushing Alastor's torn overcoat past his shoulders. The injured man simply gazed down at you, a weary smile decorating his visage. "Darling, I can handle this myself," Alastor clamored through gritted teeth, stopping your hands with his own before you could start unbuttoning his dress shirt. 

You shot your head up to meet his gaze, frustration evident on your face. "No, you can't! You need to let others help you when you need it! Stop trying to handle all these battles on your own. Please, Al," Your voice softened toward the end of your sentence. You didn't want to shout at him while he was wounded so badly, but Alastor's stubbornness got under your skin. Especially now. 

Alastor closed his eyes for a brief moment, taking in a shaky breath before releasing his grasp around your hands. "Alright, my darling... I won't stand in your way any further," His voice was barely above a whisper as he presented you with an apologetic look. You offered him a weak smile in return before undoing the buttons on his blood-soaked shirt. Peeling it off his frame with great gentleness. 

Your eyes widened in fear as you finally saw just how gnarly the gash across his torso really was. Your hands shook ever so slightly as you began threading the needle you uncovered in the first aid kit. "Tell me if it hurts too much, and we'll take a break." You expressed softly, eyes meeting his crimson ones. Alastor only nodded at you as he gritted his teeth harsher than before, bracing for impact. 

Alastor's grip on the edge of his desk tightened, leaving deep claw marks in his wake. You tried to make the stitching process as painless as possible, but there was only so much you could do. "I'm almost done, my love. You're doing so well," Alastor endured the grueling treatment, letting out a breath he wasn't even aware he was holding as you finished patching him up. 

You generously applied ointment before wrapping gauze all the way around his frame. Alastor let out a hiss as the bandage came in contact with his gash. "I know, my love... just hold on a little longer for me," You snuggly secured the gauze before bringing your hands down. You grasped his hands. Clutching his large palms comfortingly as you beamed up at him. 

"There, now you're as good as new." You quipped, massaging the pads of your thumbs into the back of his palms. Alastor grinned wearily, his crimson eyes holding much adoration for you. "Thank you, my darling... I reckon I should apologize for being so uncompromising before," A slight chuckle escaped his lips as Alastor squeezed your hands right back.

You let a laugh of your own fill the room as you leaned in closer. "Ah, don't be... I'm just glad you're okay," Before you could catch up, your head came flush against his shoulder. The adrenaline finally wore off, leaving your body shaky and weak. Alastor didn't miss a beat. He gripped your hips to stabilize you instantly. "My dear, are you alright?" His voice was laced with concern, radio static crackling out ever so slightly.  

Tears began brimming in your eyes before you could stop them, and a lump formed in your throat. One that you couldn't seem to swallow down. "Sorry, I just..." A hiccup shook your body as your hands came up to his chest, being careful not to graze his injury. "If you would have died... I couldn't bear it!" 

Alastor felt his heart ache at your sorrowful cries. Your solemn words only added fuel to the fire. One of his hands unhurriedly came up to the back of your head, cradling your neck as Alastor cooed at you. "Oh, my dear," He allowed you to sob into his shoulder for as long as you needed, only releasing his grasp around your head when he heard your cries fizzle out. 

You slowly pushed yourself back against Alastor's chest, sniffling softly as you looked up at him. Before you could process it, Alastor captured your lips with his. Pouring all of his love into the chaste kiss. Your heart fluttered as he rubbed soothing circles into your hips. Your worries seemed to melt away from his embrace. Alastor was your everything, and the fact that you nearly lost him today scared the fuck out of you. 

Alastor pulled back unhurriedly, still keeping his face close to yours. He nuzzled his nose against your own before he whispered, "I'm not going anywhere, my darling. You're stuck with me for all of eternity. I expect you haven't forgotten that already!"

[waitimcomingtoo]

Jealousy, Jealousy

Pairing: Peeta Mellark x Reader

Synopsis: Peeta helps Johanna unzip her dress in the elevator and it makes you jealous

Masterlist

“Can I have a hand?” Johanna asked as she turned her back to Peeta. Peeta looked at you and Haymitch for a split second before shrugging and taking ahold of her zipper.

“Oh. Sure.” He said as he pulled the zipper down her back. Your head slowly turned to Peter and you stared at him with a slack jaw. Peeta looked at you and his smile immediately dropped. He adverted his eyes as long as he could until they found their way back to the scene in front of him. Johanna was looking between you and Peeta with a smirk when she turned around to pull her sleeves off her arms. Peeta and Haymitch couldn’t help but watch her as she undressed and dropped her clothes onto the elevator floor. It appeared that you were the only one able to keep your eyes on the ceiling as Johanna stripped out of her last piece of clothing.

“Thanks. Let’s do it again sometime.” She said as the elevator doors opened. She walked into the hallway fully naked and left a silence when she left. Peeta and Haymitch chuckled and exchanged looks as the elevator went up another door. Peeta then made eye contact with you and gulped when he saw the daggers in your eyes. You could not believe he had just looked at her the way he did. Seeing him unzip her dress and watch her made your blood boil in your skin in a way it never had before. You were so consumed with your jealousy that you didn’t hear Peeta try to change the subject and only knew she spoke when you saw his lips move.

“What?” You asked him.

“I asked what outfit you liked the best.” Peeta repeated. “I thought District 5’s was kinda cool. But it didn’t look very comfortable.”

“I don’t know. And I don’t care. I wasn’t looking at the other tributes.” You said and eyed him up and down as the elevator doors opened on your floor.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Peeta’s face scrunched in confusion as he followed you out of the elevator.

“Nothing. I’m going to sleep.” You announced and headed straight for your room.

“You’re sleeping already? Aren’t you gonna eat?” Peeta asked with concern.

“I’m not hungry.” You said without looking back.

“I can meet you on the roof in a little bit if you want to hang out.” He offered.

“Not tonight.” You replied and disappeared into your bedroom. Peeta frowned and felt disappointment sink in over not getting the night with you that he thought he’d be getting.

“Uh oh.” Haymitch chuckled as he poured himself a drink.

“What was that?” Peeta asked and gestured to where you had just been.

“That, my friend, was you getting in trouble with your lady.”

“What?” Peeta blushed at what Haymitch called you. “She’s not even my lady.”

“But she wants to be.” Haymitch said pointedly and took a long sip.

“Y/n? There’s no way. She knows I like her and she made it very clear that she just wants to be friends.” Peeta insisted.

“Peeta, I don’t really know how they do things in 12 nowadays, so let me spell things out for you. That girl wants you but she’s way too stubborn to admit it to you or even herself. She doesn’t want to tell you how she feels because she wants you to just know. And she definitely didn’t want to see you undressing another girl right in front of her.”

“I wasn’t undressing her. I just helped her unzip her…” Peeta trailed off when he saw Haymitch raise his eyebrows in amusement. He realized how bad the moment in the elevator must’ve looked to you and began to panic.

“Oh no.” Peeta gulped. “Is she really mad at me?”

“Definitely.”

“What do I do?” He whined.

“Talk to her. And prepare to get hit a couple times.” Haymitch chuckled and patted Peeta’s shoulder as he passed him. Peeta thought about it for a moment and then went up to your room to do what Haymitch said and talk to you. He knocked on your door and you opened it pretty quickly as if you were expecting him. You had ditched your parade outfit and were now in some silky yellow pajamas.

“Hey.” Peeta smiled at you.

“What do you want?” You replied, making his smile drop.

“Just to talk. And I wanted to see you.”

“I’m really tired. I’m not in the mood to talk tonight.”

“Oh, okay. We don’t have to talk if you don’t want. I’m tired too. We can just sleep.” Peeta offered. You usually slept in the same bed to keep the nightmares away but there was no way you were letting him in your bed after what happened in the elevator.

“I’m gonna sleep alone tonight.” You told him with a tight smile.

“Oh. Okay.” Peeta said again and felt his disappointment settle in a pit in his stomach. Your cold expression suddenly melted to one of insecurity and you looked down the hallway as if you were expecting someone else to be there.

“Are you?” You asked quietly.

“Huh? Who else would I be sleeping with?” Peeta genuinely wondered, not realizing you were asking about Johanna.

“I don’t know.” You said quickly. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight. See you-“ Peeta was cut off by you closing the door in his face. He sighed and put his hand on your door before walking away.

“Tomorrow.” He mumbled.

When tomorrow came, he woke up in his lonely bed and went straight to your room. Your door was open and you weren’t inside so he assumed you already went downstairs. You weren’t there when he got to the table and let out another sigh. You were clearly avoiding him and he was not handling it very well. Peeta decided not to let it get to him and busied himself by making you a plate of all your favorite breakfast food. Haymitch watched Peeta scrambling to get back in your good graces and laughed to himself. You came down just as Peeta was finishing your plate and eyed him curiously.

“Good morning.” He greeted with you a smile.

“Morning.” You replied without looking at him.

“I made you a plate.” He said and put the plate in front of you. You stared at the plate for a minute and almost gave it and apologized for your cold behavior until you remembered the way he looked at Johanna last night. That was enough to make you lose your appetite so you pushed the plate away.

“I’m not really hungry.”

“You’re not? But you didn’t eat last night.” Peeta said worriedly as he sat beside you.

“Yes she did. For a hunter, you’re not very quiet. I could hear you rummaging for food all the way from my room.” Haymitch said to you.

“You came down to eat?” Peeta asked. “You should’ve gotten me. I would’ve kept you company.”

“Maybe I didn’t want your company.” You shrugged, making Peeta frown.

“Oh. Ice cold, sweetheart.” Haymitch chuckled. “You better watch your back in the games, Peeta. This one has death in her eyes.”

“You’re still mad at me?” Peeta whispered to you.

“Who said I’m mad at you?” You said without looking at him.

“I know you are. We usually talk on the rooftop and then sleep in the same bed. And then come down to eat breakfast together. You didn’t let me do any of those things.”

“Maybe I just need some space. We spend every hour together every single day. Excuse me for wanting some privacy for a little while.”

“We should be spending every hour together before we don’t get the chance. How long are you gonna be mad at me?”

“I already told you, I’m not mad.” You whispered harshly.

“Fine. You’re not mad. But when can we be friends again?” Peeta asked and tugged on your sleeve.

“Peeta.” You said warningly and pushed his hand away.

“Come on. I miss you.” He whined and tugged on your sleeve.

“I’m right here.” You scoffed but started to feel guilty for your behavior.

“No you’re not.” He pouted. “You’re far away.”

“Stop whining so much. You sound like my cat. And I hate that cat.”

“So you hate me now? All because I un-“

“Don’t.” You cut him off and got up from the table. You passed Effie in the hallway as you went back to your room.

“What’s going on? Y/n just told me she wants to train alone today.” Effie said as he joined the boys at the table.

“She’s mad at loverboy.” Haymitch said and pointed to Peeta.

“What did you do?” Effie asked him.

“Nothing. I didn’t do anything.”

“He unzipped Johanna Masons dress in the elevator.” Haymitch tattled.

“What? Are you insane?” Effie gasped. “You can’t do something like that in front of your lady.”

“Why does everyone keep calling her my lady?” Peeta asked. “She doesn’t even like me.”

“Of course she likes you. That’s why she’s so upset. She’s jealous.” Effie laughed like it was obvious.

“Jealous? Of me and Johanna? I don’t think I even said a word to her. I just pulled the zipper.”

“It’s not about Johanna, silly. It’s about you giving attention to another girl. That’s why she’s jealous. She wants to be the one you’re unzipping.” Effie explained, making Peeta choke on the water he had just sipped. He wiped his mouth once he stopped choking and sighed.

“I need to fix this.”

“Yeah. You do. Before she makes you her first target.” Haymitch told him.

“She wouldn’t do that. Oh my God. Wait. Would she?” Peeta worried.

“She might.” Effie shrugged and Haymitch nodded in agreement.

“Well what do I do? She won’t talk to me.”

“So don’t give her a choice. Go in there and show her that she’s your only lady.” Haymitch instructed.

“What if she tells me to go away?” Peeta asked.

“Stay.” Effie answered. Peeta nodded his head and got out of his seat to go talk to you. He knocked on your door but this time, you didn’t answer. Peeta took a deep breath before opening the door and going in. You were on your bed with your knees drawn up to your chest. You gasped when he came in and threw a pillow at his head.

“What are you doing in here? Get out.”

“No. We’re talking.” Peeta said and sat on the edge of your bed.

“Well I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Too bad. Because I want to talk to you. Please? I can’t take it that you’re mad at me. I don’t want to go in the arena without hearing your voice. Can’t we just talk?” Peeta begged.

“Fine. What do you want to say?” You asked him.

“That you’re a big baby.” Peeta replied.

“Excuse me?” Your eyes widened when you didn’t get the apology you were expecting.

“You are.” He insisted. “You don’t get to be mad at me for unzipping Johanna’s dress when I didn’t even know what was happening.”

“What?” You laughed nervously. “I’m not mad at you for unzipping her dress. Why would I care about that?”

“I don’t know why you care. But I know that you’re jealous.”

“Jealous? Oh, please.” You scoffed and got off the bed to get away from Peeta.

“It’s okay to admit it.” Peeta said calmly. “I admit that I was jealous when I saw you talking to Finnick. And his giant muscles that are always out.”

“They are, aren’t they?” You smiled coyly.

“Hey.” Peeta said defensively.

“You’re the one who’s jealous. Not me.” You said and pointed to him.

“Then how come you’ve been mad at me ever since I unzipped her dress?” Peeta asked and walked over to you.

“It’s not about the dress!” You exclaimed.

“Then what is this about?” He asked. You scoffed again and folded your arms to close yourself off. Peeta wasn’t about to give up that easy and put his hands on your shoulders.

“Please tell me. I miss my friend.” He said quietly. You sighed and looked into his big sad eyes.

“I don’t care that you unzipped her dress.” You admitted. “You were just doing what she asked. I care that you were looking at her when she took her clothes off.”

“In my defense, I’ve never seen boobs before.” Peeta stated, making you laugh for second.

“Me either.”

“Not…not your own?” Peeta whispered in disbelief.

“Yes my own. Never another girls.” You explained and smacked his arm.

“Oh. I was gonna say. I know we don’t have a lot of mirrors in 12 but I think they’d be kinda hard to avoid- “

“I don’t want you looking at Johanna, okay?” You cut him off. “Or any other girls. I hated it. It made my blood feel hot and my stomach dropped to the floor. And then I couldn’t sleep because I kept replaying it in my head. What is that?”

“Thats jealousy.” Peeta explained with a pleased smile now that he knew Effie was right.

“Oh. Well I don’t want to feel it ever again. I didn’t like it.”

“Well I didn’t like when you didn’t talk to me.” Peeta said quietly.

“I’m sorry. I feel like my life is completely out of my hands lately. But you and I are the one thing I have a say in. So when it felt like our relationship was threatened, I tried to gain control by shutting you out.”

“It’s okay. I probably would’ve curled into a ball and cried right in front of you if I saw you unzip some guys pants.” He admitted, making you laugh again. You chuckled and pulled him into a hug to apologize for being so cold towards him. When you pulled out of the hug, you kept your arms around his neck and looked into his eyes.

“So seeing me with Finnick really made you jealous?” You asked with a smirk.

“Yeah. I was questioning our alliance the second I heard him make you laugh.” Peeta replied, making you laugh.

“Yeah. I know the feeling.”

“Why do you think we got so jealous seeing each other around other people?” Peeta wondered. You looked down at the floor and sighed.

“I think maybe we underestimated our feelings for each other.” You admitted.

“We?” Peeta raised an eyebrow.

“Fine. I underestimated my feelings. When I saw you looking at another girl, I realized the only one I want you looking at is me.”

“As if theres anything in this world that could make me take my eyes off you.” Peeta said softly.

“Except for Johanna’s boobs.” You mumbled under your breath.

“You’re the only one I’m looking at right now.” He assured you. You smiled for a second, then frowned.

“But you’re not thinking about them, right?” You asked him.

“I’m about to if you don’t stop bringing them up.” He said out of the corner of his mouth.

“Maybe I can take your mind off it?” You asked with a shrug.

“How?” Peeta barely got the word out before you were kissing him. He wrapped his arms around you to deepen the kiss as your hands found their way to his hair. There were no cameras and no witnesses because it was just yours.

“So we’re friends again?” Peeta asked once you pulled away.

“I don’t know. I don’t get jealous like over just my friends.” You said coyly. Peeta picked up on what you were saying and felt his face heat up. He pressed his forehead against yours and looked into your eyes.

“Good.” He said. “Because I never wanted to be just friends with you.”

[bunnys-kisses]

baby fever

capt. john price

cw: smut/pwp, dirty talk, breeding/pregnancy, filthy, husband!price, slight age gap (reader is early 20s, price late 30s), military formal wear, oral (m receiving), doggy style, unprotected

bunny says: i thought about built/chubby price and him in his military formals and my brain turned off. this was the end result.

price wasn't beating the bear allegations. while he wasn't a gay bear, he knew that there were a lot of women who loved his physique. dusting of hair, built but enjoyed a good sunday roast. thick fingers and broad tongue. he was a built man after his years of service.

but if price had to pin you as an animal, it would be his little chickadee. small and fragile with a cute little song. the most loveliest thing he had ever laid his eyes on. no wonder within a year of dating, you were already engaged.

price knew when he had a good thing going and didn't want to ruin it. you were still in university, but he'd never make his darling girl quit school for his sake.

"'ey, love." he said as he walked past you on your laptop. he leaned in and kissed the side of your neck, "studyin' well?"

you looked over and smiled at him, "of course, big bear." you took him by the face and kissed him on the cheek. your engagement ring gleamed in the light of the living room.

but even the brightest university students could easily crumble against a man like price. it didn't help that there was a spike in your baby fever. it was almost embarrassing when you watched price in the living room, shining his uniform boots. it also didn't help when he was making sure that formal attire still fit.

he noticed you staring, you didn't try to hide it.

he stood there in front of the full length mirror in your shared bedroom. the beret, the jacket, the medals. hands on his hips as he looked at you. he smiled, his eyes crinkled at the sight of your jaw almost on the floor.

"tryin' to see if everythin' still fit. need to go back to the gym, your cookin' is gonna be the death of me, love." he chuckled. he dragged his tongue across his top teeth and said, "now that i know, why don't ya help me get out of it."

maybe a man in uniform was your (not-so) secret kink. you've seen him in everything under the sun, but every time it still made your throat dry. you were in your sunday pajamas, paired with fuzzy slippers.

he reached out for you, "ya like when i'm dressed like this, huh?" he chuckled as he tilted his head down to kiss the top of your head.

"i mean." you said, "you look good." you blushed a little bit more and looked away from him, but he took you by the chin to look at him. those blue eyes peered into yours.

"don't be shy, love." he said, "i like when ya stare."

you held onto the front of his jacket, the thick material felt heavy in your grasp. you could feel the wetness between your legs. damn price. you said, "you look good, big bear."

he reached down and took a handful of your ass, "and you look even better, my chickadee. now c'mon, undress yer man." then licked his top lip at the sight of your delicate hands trying to undo the formal jacket. he then took you by the head again and said, "pants first." then helped you onto your knees.

you swallowed and looked up at him. if anyone looked inside, they'd see a weird power dynamic. but all price saw was an eager little birdie trying to get her hands on her husband.

"those medals look nice." you said as he reached for his belt.

he chuckled, "not as nice as your lips on my cock." then dragged a hand through your hair. the belt soon came off as his pants were unzipped. he was thankful that he knew how to get any stains out of his uniform, because he knew you were a messy girl.

you took his cock out of his slacks. it stood was full attention and even after all this time together, the sight of it was still arousing. cut, thick, a deep pink (not quite red) and almost eight inches in length. you once joked it was a "porno dick".

you kissed the underside of it with such warmth that it made the man shudder. then started the slow, small licks against the shaft. you chuckled to yourself at the feeling of his cock under your tongue. he felt like a dream.

"that's a good girl. my darlin' girl." he said with a hint of pride in his voice. he loved the sight of you on his knees. even if the sweat down his back was making the heavy jacket more uncomfortable.

you stroked the base of his cock with one hand while you put your mouth fully on the tip. you teased it with wet strokes of you tongue. you could hear the gruff noise your husband made.

you squirmed a little while on your knees and could feel a dull throb between your legs. price's cock was an impressive sight and a task to fully get in your mouth.

"ya got a small mouth, love.' he remarked jokingly, "too small for all of this. but i know you'll do your best.' he combed his fingers through your hair once more before it rested on the back of your head.

he supported your head while you continued to orally pleasure him. he loved his woman on her knees in front of him. while he held you in high regard, he thought you were the sweetest things since strawberries on cake, but there was something about seeing HIS woman like this.

you looked up at him and a groan got caught in his throat. you gave him a cute little wink before you continued to stroke him off. your other hand was on his strong thigh for support as you pleasured him.

"oh sweet fuck." he groaned.

you knew you'd never take all of him in your throat but you made the most of what you could. his cock was heavy in your mouth as you continued to move your head.

he gripped the back of your head, he felt hot all over as pleasure pumped through his veins. he loved his girl, his darling sweet angel. yeah the age difference was to raise an eyebrow at. but if they knew the angel he managed to get a ring on, they'd understand.

his little chickadee.

you looked up at him once more. the way he looked down at you with a guiding hand on the back of your head. you pulled your mouth off his cock and looked up at him with your tongue out of your mouth.

"fuckin' doll eyes." he said, "get back to what you were doin', i want to see you take every last drop."

you once again went back to orally pleasuring him. your hand dug into the meat of his thigh as you tried to take more of his cock in your throat. the noises that came from your husband made your core ache.

the bright pink in his cheeks made you smile as he messed up with hair with his broad hands. he felt so big next to you. his little precious wife doing everything in her power to get him off.

with a few more thrusts of your head with his cock nudging the back of your throat. you moved to keep the tip against your tongue as he came down your throat. you didn't want to choke on his cum but you savored every last salty drop.

maybe a man in uniform did things to you.

when you pulled away, you looked up at him. "i want you, john." you said as you licked your lips and wiped your chin with the back of your hand, "i want to have your babies." the baby fever was thrumming in your veins, "fuck me, big bear."

he raised an eyebrow, "babies, huh? i thought you wanted to be a working woman." he said cheekily.

you rose to your feet, your legs were shaky as you grabbed him by the front of his uniform jacket and kissed him deeply. you almost toppled over him but he held you by the middle for support. when you pulled away, you panted as you said, "breed me price, or i'll find someone else to do it."

his expression darkened, "don't be sayin' things like that, love." he pulled you close to him. his cock was still hard between you two, "you better not run off with some runt." he kissed your heated cheek, "now face down, ass up, chickadee."

you pulled away from him and turned towards the bed. you shredded your clothes and almost threw yourself onto the large mattress. your face against the pillow with your back arched and hips raised.

you felt the bed sink soon after with your husband's large hands on your hips and his cock rested against your ass.

"your uniform." you squeaked.

"i'll iron it tonight." he replied, "right now, my darlin' girl needs her pussy fucked." his vulgar language made a shiver run through you.

when he bottomed out into your pussy, you felt the air escape your lungs. you clutched onto the pillow. he got a perfect view of your backside, his gaze felt hungry against you.

"please."

"my darlin' girl." price said softly. he leaned in and kissed you on the shoulder. you felt like a tight heat around him. "my beautiful wife." price adored that you were his wife. that you decided to marry him, now he got to feel up your beautiful figure every moment.

"god, john." you moaned, "was it always this damn big?"

he chuckled lowly, "you make me hard, love. i see ya and i just go wild." he then started to kiss at your shoulders and neck.

you held onto the pillow and panted in the pillows. you felt the sweat at your back as you were fucked. you panted into the fabric and felt your husband thrust into you.

"sweeter than jam and more fuckable than a toy." he chuckled lowly as he began to pick up the pace. he could feel your heat under him, you were a dream in his eyes.

the precious wife to be a beloved captain, almost twenty years her senior. the bed creaked under your movements and the sweet sounds of your sex filled the air. it was also joined by your sweet noises that encouraged your husband to keep fucking you.

you felt hot all over as the man fucked you. the pleasure rolled through your body as you moved against the bed. you panted and moaned into the pillow and let your husband thrust into you.

"my sweet girl." he purred.

"please, john." you whined.

the sex between you two felt hot, like you were on a knife's edge as he rutted against you. you could feel the heat pool in your gut as he moved against you. sweat clung to your chest and neck. your hair stuck against your skin.

"that's it." he murmured. his cock throbbed inside of you.

your love making continued, you pushed the hair out of your eyes the more he fucked you from behind. your hands were deep in the pillow as you moaned into the fabric.

price loved the sight of you. he just thought that you looked amazing, HIS girl was like this under him. he was your big strong bear and he loved the sight of you under him. just a dream to him. his heat raced in his hairy chest as he placed more weight on you.

"shit, john." you groaned.

"I got ya. i'll be finishin' in ya soon. give ya all the babes you want." he chuckled as he kissed your heated cheek. his thrusts were quick and made you see stars behind your lids.

you were heated all over and your head was swimming. you panted wildly into the bed and with a few more strokes of his cock, you came around him.

price groaned at intense heat around his cock. he went as fast as he could and felt the sweat down his toned back. he pressed himself further into you and finished.

his cum shot to the back of your cunt and you let out a pleased noise. his pace slowed down until he stopped and pulled out. he wiped the sweat from his forehead and scratched his hairy chest, "how's that, love?"

you laid fully flat on the bed and nodded your head, "we're going to have to keep goin' though, big bear. you've done so much damage to yourself that your swimmers aren't as strong as they used to be." so you rolled onto your back and reached for him, "c'mon. fuck me again."

he chuckled as he leaned back on his heels and stroked his cock, "of course chickadee. anythin' for ya."

[rebelliousstories]

Can I request suggestive headcanons for Remy, Logan, Wade, and poly Logan & Wade reacting to his shy gn s/o immediately covering their eyes while apologising profusely because they accidentally saw him half-naked because he was changing clothes please?

Walking in on Their S/O Changing…

Fandom: X-Men

Request: Yes by Anon

Warnings: Suggestive themes, Brief Strong Language, Fluff

Word Count: 1,043

Main Masterlist: Here

X-Men Masterlist: Here

Logan Howlett/ The Wolverine

* Okay, so keep in mind that this man has been alive for more than 200 years. He’s seen a lot. He’s done a lot. There is not much else that can surprise him in terms of learning new things

* However… You can still surprise him

* I completely see him as a man that would just casually steamroll past the fact that you were only in your undergarments. He’s not phased, nor does he care.

* Logan will definitely take the time to ogle if he gets the chance, but he’s aware there is a time and place for that.

* “Hey, we were out of beer so I took the truck to go get some… oh shit.” And with that, he was speechless. Logan’s eyes would trail up and down your figure, even though part of it was obscured by the tshirt that was pressed against your body

* Silently, he would stalk closer and closer to you, never once taking his eyes off of you. His hands would gently pull the shirt away so he could get a better look. Feather light touches would cascade themselves down your arms, and chest; all the while his eyes would drink it up

* Picking you up, he walked over to the bed while holding you and pressing his nose into the crook of your neck

* “What about the beer?”

* “Forget the beer.”

Wade Wilson/Deadpool

* Oh, the beloved merc with the mouth. How do I say this gently? He will both make you love and hate him walking on you. It all started because he had gotten you a new suit that he wanted you to wear.

* Wade had begged and begged you to wear it, but there was no appropriate timing to do so. It had gotten to the point that he had accepted that you weren’t going to wear it. But when you finally had been worn down enough, he got super giddy at the prospect of you wearing it. But you had taken too long in his mind which prompted him to take matters into his own hands.

* “What’s taking you so long, angel cakes? Oh, hello.”

* “Wade! Get out!”

* Throwing things does not deter this man, oh no, my friend. For when he gets a glimpse of you, half undressed with the suit on the bed, he’s gonna need his special sock. Wade is frozen in a state of bliss and was unable to move himself. Not until you forcibly pushed him out, and shut the door on him. When you had finally put the suit on and came out to show him, he was still unable to form complete sentences or even words at you.

* Safe to say, you had finally silenced “the mouth”

Remy LeBeau/Gambit

* Ah, Le Diable Blanc. See, I know, you want me to come on here and talk about how big of a flirt Remy is. But no! That boy is a southerner, and southern men are raised to be gentlemen. I truly, in my heart of hearts believe, that if Remy caught you changing, he would blush and book it out of there.

* Hear me out! Just, imagine it, okay…

* It’s late and Remy hasn’t come home from his night out playing cards. The hour was nearing one in the morning, when you finally decide to call it a night, but you’re unable to fall asleep quite yet. Fearing that you’ll have to spend another night watching horrible late night reruns in the motel, you began changing into one of his tshirts to sleep in when you heard the door open. Struggling to get the shirt over your head to have some sort of coverage, you weren’t quite fast enough.

* “Ooh, I tell you cher, it was a goo- oh lord have mercy.”

* And like that, the door was shut again. Maybe you let out a squeak, maybe a gasp. But either way, your ragin’ Cajun was outside the room, breathing heavily and holding it shut. After a few minutes, he pressed his ear to the door to hear inside.

* “Cher, you dressed yet?”

* “Yeah. You can come in.”

* When he does, you’re already under the covers with the remote to the tv next to you, looking at the door. Gambit just grabbed his change of clothes that didn’t smell like sweat, alcohol, and smoke, and went to change in the bathroom. When he came out, he assumed his place with you in bed. On his back with you tucked into his side.

* Although, the only mention he ever gave, was a whisper of, “You look real pretty under all that, cher. Like an angel sent straight to save ol’ Gambit.”

Poly! Wolverine and Deadpool

* Prepare for trouble and make it double! Two lovers with a regenerative healing factor that makes snarky comments? Sign me up!

* This is definitely happening after a morning food run. You’re living with them, and Mary Puppins, and Blind Al, and Wade decided that today was the day for donuts and good coffee. Logan was thoughtful enough to leave a note on his side of the bed stating where they were going and that they would be back.

* This left you and the dog to get ready for the day by yourselves. After a lengthy shower that you didn’t have to share, you had made your way into the room to get some fashion advice from the sweet little pupper.

* “Okay girl. Do we go with the yellow dress, or the red dress today?”

* There was a noise, and two men bumbled into the room.

* “Avert your eyes, sweet summer child. But you should just forgo the dress. And the under garments while you’re at it.”

* “Can you go five minutes without something becoming sexual?”

* Wade gave an mhm while shaking his head, and turned back to his partner. Logan had to do a double take at your state, but there was appreciation in his eyes.

* “Can you two give us girls some privacy?”

* Logan had to drag his counter part out of there even though he managed to break free from the mutant’s hold on a number of occasions. As he left, the Wolverine sent an affirmative grunt and nod towards the red dress in your hands.

[teamred]

devilish

✩‌ merchant!qimir x acolyte!reader | smut | fluff | 2.5k

SUMMARY | you fall into bed with sweet, goofy qimir, expecting a tame tryst... but he's not as sweet as he seems in between the sheets.

WARNINGS | smut, dirty talk, breastplay, f*ngering, oral s*x (male receiving), breathplay (safe choking), praise kink (good girl!), piv s*x, unprotected s*x

RATING | explicit

NOTES | please leave some love in comments/tags or inbox if you liked this fic!!! thanks for those who were waiting for this fic <3

He’s going to kill me. 

The thought rings through your mind as you’re sitting in Qimir’s lap, lips intertwined with his. His hands grasp the back of your head and the side of your thigh, while yours tug on the nape of his neck and run through his perpetually messy hair. 

It’s screwed up that you’re thinking of the master you and Qimir share at a moment like this, but it’s impossible not to. 

If your master finds out you’re about to bed the guide he assigned to you, he may never let you see him again. A deeper fear gnaws at you; he might not only kill you for breaking some unspoken protocol, but also Qimir.  

But it’s worth the risk, one you’re both willing to take. 

Consequences be damned, because Qimir’s been undressing you with his eyes all night. 

The same sweet, goofy Qimir who always greets you with a lopsided grin, constantly annoys you about drinking enough water, and trips when he walks up the stairs or even flat ground.

But tonight’s circumstances were different. Both of you were dressed up formally to infiltrate a Senate Gala undercover. 

Him, working as a waiter, his signature disheveled hair temporarily tamed in a small bun and wearing a uniform that highlighted his broad shoulders you weren’t accustomed to. You, adorning a floor-length red halter dress that hugged your body in all the right places. 

The second he saw you step into the ballroom, he stammered into his ear-piece (“Wow, you look—wow.”). And when you blended in by grabbing a drink from his tray, his eyes could not help but roam your body. Your exposed shoulders, the expanse of your bare back, and the amount of leg showing with your high slit. 

After finishing your tasks for the night, you two stormed off in the Exile II to a nearby planet, seeking refuge at a run-down safehouse. What began as winding down with a few drinks soon morphed into spontaneous slow-dancing without any music.

You’ve always had a soft spot for him, and when he mustered the courage to tell you how gorgeous you looked tonight, followed by the loaded question—if he could kiss you—you obviously said yes. 

Which led to this current beautiful scene being played out on this grungy, old couch. 

In his loosened button-up shirt, Qimir kisses so delicately, each movement and touch just as gentle, perfectly reflecting his personality. Frankly, you’re not expecting anything more than a pleasant evening with a coworker you've grown to adore. If he's spectacular in bed, that’s merely a bonus. 

As his lips leave yours and travel to the side of your neck, you arch into him while your hands bunch up the fabric of his shirt. He holds you close, lips never straying from your skin, and lowers you down onto the couch.

But then, your eyes drift up to the ceiling, and the weight of where you are and who owns this place hits you again, causing you to tense up. 

“Stop thinking about him,” Qimir murmurs against your neck, his hands kneading your waist. This elicits a low groan from you, pulling you back into the moment.

“But what if he—”

“He’ll never know,” he cuts in reassuringly. 

“And if he does?”

“He’ll be fine with this,” he insists, tone bordering frustration. 

“How do you know?” 

Drawing away from your neck, he gazes down at you with a hand braced on the couch’s armrest. His messy, yet gorgeous, hair nearly brushes against your face. When he palms your cheek, his eyes soften. 

“Just be with me for tonight. All of you. Don’t think about anything else besides you and me. Can you do that for me?” 

You glance up at him for a few beats, taking in his beauty, along with his saccharine pleading words. Then, with a small smile, you nod. 

Suddenly, like lightning cutting through a storm, a smirk replaces Qimir’s warmth.   

“Good girl,” he says, his voice now a lower, more seductive tone than you’re used to. You reflexively tighten at the praise.  

Swiftly, he unties your halter dress and pulls the fabric down, baring your breasts to the cool air. 

You gasp sharply as his mouth descends, capturing your nipple between his teeth, gently nipping before he swirls and darts his tongue against it. Your fingers tug at his hair, while his free hand kneads your other breast, his thumb strumming and teasing the hardened tip. 

Hovering over your body, he trails kisses along your skin, switching his attention from one breast to the other, ensuring every inch of your chest is teased and pleasured. 

Eventually, his hand slides down from your breast, the tips of his fingers grazing you in a slow, deliberate path until they find their way between your legs. 

Your breath becomes ragged and your eyes tremble as he drags two fingers over your thin underwear. 

“Fuck,” he chuckles, and you detect a cocky note to it, “you’re so wet for me already.” 

His cockiness, paired with the vulgar comment, makes you shiver. You involuntarily buck your hips in need; he continues to chuckle, clearly indulging his power over you and how weak you become by a mere touch. 

Qimir deftly pushes your panties to one side and plunges his digits into you. Your hands slip underneath his button-up shirt, fingers pressing into the smooth skin of his upper back and shoulders while your rising moans and needy whimpers fill the room. 

But he’s far from finished—he jacks his fingers straighter, angling them even deeper than before.

Your whimpers evolve into heavy groans and wails, your fingers practically leaving marks on him. If he was this good with just his fingers, you were dying to know what he could do with his cock. Despite the raw pleasure, he grounds you with the press of his forehead against yours.

For the cherry on top, his thumb rubs your clit in small circles, each stroke sending you closer to the edge. 

“Be a good girl and come for me.” 

And you obediently do so with the rolling of your eyes, the uncontrollable jolting of your hips, and the ceaseless panting of his own name into Qimir's lips. 

You take a second to come down from your high, but decide not to waste any time and pull away from underneath Qimir to shimmy out of your dress and panties, standing up and kicking them off beside the foot of the couch.

He sits relaxed on the couch now with a hand behind his head, watching you intently as you, now completely bare, drop to your knees in front of him. 

Your hands tremble in anticipation when you reach for his pants, evidently feeling his desire around the seams. Removing his pants and undergarment to his ankles, your breath catches in your throat at the sight of his cock springing up against his shirt.

Said shirt is in the way, so Qimir unbuttons it fully and you become slack-jawed over his gorgeous abs, so awestruck that you can’t resist stroking them. 

You continue to touch his abs as you hold his length in your other hand, gifting him gradual, firm strokes. Qimir releases a soft moan, leaning his head back while one of his hands squeeze your shoulder tenderly. 

Finally, you take him into your mouth. On your knees, you worship him. Your tongue traces every inch of him and your lips and palm work together in tandem until his length is slick with your devotion. 

In this moment, you feel an unspoken, strong reverence for Qimir. You can’t explain why you feel this way, but you let your body speak for itself. Each motion you provide is a testament to how much you respect him—as if letting him fill your mouth completely, even occasionally hitting the back of your throat, will prove your admiration.

Although he watches your every move, in such moments such as when you take him fully, squeeze his length harder, or suck hard on his blunt head, his composure slips; he releases throaty groans and his eyes lose focus.

At one point, he warns you he’s close, and you retreat, not wanting the evening to end just yet. Decisively, he rids of his shirt, revealing the expanse of his upper body, and steps out of his other clothes. You ogle at his presence; the more you experience Qimir tonight, the more you realize just how little you know about him.  

Gently taking you by your wrist, Qimir guides you to bend forward in front of him on the couch. You’re surprised at this unexpected position from what you anticipated—a more traditional one like missionary—since it places him in control and leaves you vulnerable, with your face turned away from his. 

His hands grip your hips firmly, and he lines himself up behind you. He eases into you slowly, and you throw your head back when he’s fully inside. Once you’ve adjusted, his thrusts are slow and deep. You savor the feeling of him inside of you, gripping the couch for release with each penetration. 

He leans closer, his breath hot against your ear. “Do you feel me? Every inch of me?” 

You nod, breathless and overwhelmed.

“And do you like it?” 

“I do”—you gasp, throwing your head back at a sudden thrust—“I love it so much.” 

“Such a good girl…” Qimir presses a kiss at the nape of your neck. Just as you're about to lean into it, he’s already gone. 

He removes himself from your warmth, disappointment rising within you in the form of a pout, but he quickly turns you around. 

Qimir lays you on the couch again beneath him once more. As he re-enters you, you think about how the vulnerability of your previous position pales in comparison to this. Now, this position makes you feel even more exposed with how he pins you down with his tenacious gaze with each thrust into your pussy.

Then, intensity flickers in his eyes. His gaze sharpens, and you sense his desire for something more, particularly with how hard he grips your waist. 

“I’m–I’m going to place my hand around your neck,” he pants. “If it’s too much at any point, you double-tap me and I’ll stop. Do you understand?”

You nod, drowning in the pleasure, and you barely whisper, “I understand.” 

His fingers first trace the contours of your throat, barely touching it, almost as if he's giving you one last out to say no if you want. But you don't want to; your curiosity is piqued for this darker, dominant side of Qimir you've never seen before.

His hand wraps around your throat with a firm, yet controlled pressure. You can feel the tightness and the pulse of your own blood under his touch, but the sensation is exhilarating, never crossing into pain.

When you don't seem to mind the amount of pressure, Qimir pushes you further, strengthening his hold against the sides of your windpipes. You moan harder, your pussy clenching in tandem with the thrill.

“Remember to breathe,” he instructs. “Focus on how good I feel inside of you.”

Seeing this intense, commanding side of Qimir is addicting. You want more—no, you need more of him like this. Your eyes roll, feeling the rising tension in the pits of your abdomen.

Your gaze drifts to the point where you and he connect, captivated by the sight of his relentless thrusts. You watch the way his body moves against yours, each thrust pushing you closer and closer.

“Look at me as I fuck you,” he demands, his gaze unyielding the whole time. 

You struggle to keep your eyes locked on his, but you try your best to in order to avoid disappointing him. At this point, he's almost just as much of a mess as you: hair sticking to his perspired forehead, eyelids fluttering, teeth gritting hard as if he's holding himself back.

“Good girl. That’s my good”—he hesitates with an elongated moan—“my good girl.”

Pleasure seizes you both, and your faces contort in ecstasy. Jagged moans permeate the air as you come undone first, with Qimir following behind as he paints your stomach with thick, white streaks.

After the clean-up, you lie on the couch on your side, facing him. On the other hand, he’s facing the ceiling with a hand above his head, and you’re in disbelief over the fact that he hides such a toned and chiseled form underneath layers of clothes all the time. You take advantage of the moment and let your hands graze the planes of his chest.

“You’re a completely different person when sex is on the table,” you observe with a hint of awe. 

“Yeah?” He glances at you with a glimmer of a smirk. His voice seems huskier than usual, more seductive really. “Do you like that side of me?” 

“I do,” you admit shyly. 

His hand reaches out from beneath the sheet over your bodies, brushing against your thigh. “Wasn’t too much for you?” 

You shake your head. “Not at all.” 

“Do you…” He absentmindedly draws shapes on your skin. “Do you prefer that side of me over how I normally am?” 

You think about it for a second.

“No,” you say with confidence, reaching for him and tucking some of his loose hair behind his ear. “That was undoubtedly one of the hottest things I’ve ever experienced, but I also like how you are with me every day. You respect me, you treat me well, and you make me laugh all the time; you’re one of the funniest guys I know.” 

“On that note”—he leans in to rub his nose against the top of your arm before placing a light kiss on the same area—“can you call me master when we have sex?” 

You immediately swat him on his chest and laugh. “Oh, my God!” 

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” he says, his pitch now returning to its normal state. “Unless…?” 

“If you’re really into it, I’ll consider it.” you tease, then look away. The mention of the word drags you back to reality. “What are we going to do about him?” 

“I told you already; he’s fine with it,” he says dismissively, waving a hand. It bothers you that he doesn’t seem to care, but then you squint and wonder…

“You say that as if he already knows.” 

He shrugs. “Maybe he does.” 

Your eyes widen as your suspicions seem to be true. “Did you tell him?!” 

“No,” he grunts, “but, I mean, he probably has the place bugged.”

“Oh, God…” You bury your face in one of your hands. “He’s not gonna be happy, especially if he heard everything. I do not look forward to training tomorrow.” 

“Like I said,” he takes one of your hands and presses a kiss onto the inside of your wrist, “he’ll be fine with it. I’m willing to bet on it.”

“You don’t know him like I do, Qimir! How do you know it’ll be okay?” 

“Trust me, all right?” He smiles and plants a gentle kiss on your forehead before pulling you into his arms—

“I just know.”  

[cassie48]

Destined

Dark!Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!twin!reader

Summary: Where jacaerys loves you, his pretty twin sister, so much that he believed you were created for him, and him only.

Tw: Twincest, p in v, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, breeding kink, blood

MASTER LIST PART2

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From the moment you were born, Jacaerys had always loved you. All those years ago, cries could be heard, from a baby that had just been born, mere minutes after her brother.

Everyone in the room had tried to get you to stop crying, you’d been passed around multiple times, to multiple people, until eventually your mother took you back again, this time Jacaerys in her arms as well.

Once you were placed in her arms, your little cries stopped, as you felt your twin link his finger within yours, the two of you staring at each other.

When you had grown older, your brother had become very protective of you. Some may even say possessive. One time, at age four, the two of you were outside, running around with another child. The little boy took your hand running with you, and your brother exploded.

He shoved the boy off of you, screaming and crying with jealously, making you cry two, as you watched the scene in horror.

As the two of you got older, his behaviour with you only worsened, this led Rhaenyra to announce the two of you to be betrothed. It came as no shock, incest relationships were nothing knew for targaryens and the other houses.

The two of you shared a bedroom, you had your entire life. Since you had your first bleeding, you and your brother had been somewhat different. In other words, your brother spent every night between your legs.

One night, you had ran to your bedroom, hoping to find your twin brother. You ran with tears falling down your cheeks, crying loudly as you ran.

You opened the door, and Jacaerys stood with his top off, turning and looking at you. “My love?” He asked coming over and taking your smaller face in his hands.

“It was markus, he hit me and wripped my dress” You cried as you buried your face in your brothers chest.

Jacaerys face turned cold and with a glare he kissed your head lovingly. Markus was one of the lords sons, who lived in the castle with you. He was constantly teasing you and bullying you, but he had never physically touched you, and this was where your brother had finally had enough.

“How about you go to bed, you look tired. I shall deal with Markus, idaña” he told you kissing you before helping you undress for bed.

Around an hour later, when he had returned back to you, you turned in your bed, your nightdress high up on your thighs from tossing and turning. “Lēkia?” You murmured as he undressed for bed.

“I’m here” he whispered, now joining you in bed. You turned smelling blood and sat up inspecting your brother for injuries.

“I’m fine Issa jorrāelagon” he said cupping your cheeks and smiling at you fondly.

“Who’s blood is that?” You asked worriedly. He simply ignored your question and continued to look at you lovingly “All is well” he concluded.

You squealed slightly as pulled you onto his waist to straddle him, your hand going to his chest as his hands landed on either side of your waist.

“Sīr gevie” he whispered, moving his hips slightly to push himself against your tender body.

You moaned softly at his actions, grinding down against him as he moved against you, your wet pussy aching with need.

“Please” you cried, continuing to push your hip’s against his own to try and satisfy yourself.

Jacaerys hands moved up slowly, teasing you. He grabbed the ends of your nightdress, lifting it up above you waist, smirking as he saw your bare pussy on him.

You pouted at him, wanting to feel him deep inside of you. “Please” you said again, this time close to crying from annoyance and overstimulation.

He cupped your cheek, pulling you down to kiss you passionately, before flipping you over, so he was now above you.

He removed your nightdress completely, throwing in to the side, as he kissed you again, this time his tongue exploring your mouth. You moaned into the kiss, your hands now around his neck.

He began to kissing down your neck, then your breasts, eventually finding your lower tummy, and you squirmed under him, making him smile again.

“Patience, my lovely sister” he said making you glare at him.

With no warning he began to lick your wet pussy, and you cried out, your hands going to grip his dark curls, smirking to himself he continued for another minute before moving back up to your face. He kissed you once more, making you taste yourself.

“Jace please” you begged, your eyes now filled with tears.

“As you wish” he replied, removing his trousers, before entering you slowly. His hands on either side of you, as you both moaned. He began to move in and out of you, placing sloppy kisses on your lips every now and then.

“Louder, I want them to hear, I want them to know who makes you feel this good” he whispered in your ear, only arousing you further, as you cried out his name.

After a few more minutes you were both close to your climax “jace, I’m gonna-“

“I know” he replied, knowing your body all too well. He moved in and out of you, until you cried, literally. Tears fell down your cheeks as you clung to your brother, your walls clenched around him as your silhouette cum spilled out.

After a minute he joined you, spilling his seed deep into your womb. Groaning as he eventually pulled out. He watched as his seed dripped out of you, before he pushed in back in “Can’t waste any, need to make you carry my heir” he said breathlessly.

You only nodded, resting your head on your twins chest. The two of you drifting off to sleep, happily.

Some may disagree with your relationship, but you didn’t care, and neither did your family.

Anyway, the two of you were destined, as Jace liked to put it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Idaña - twin

Lēkia - brother

Issa jorrāelagon - my love

Sīr gevie - so beautiful

[gay-dorito-dust]

i dont know if your asks/requests are open so please feel free to ignore this (also if it makes you uncomfortable) but could you do batboys seeing you after a big event taking all the stuff off, like getting unready ig

my bf saw me peeling off my boob tape and heard me scream then said that im never allowed to wear that dress again 😭😭

Not the boob tape 💀sorry for taking so long and Dick and Jason were the only ones my little overworked brain could think of for this one. 🐿️🦦

Dick

‘Would you like some help with that?’ He’d ask cheekily from behind you.

‘You just want an excuse to see me naked, perv.’ You replied, pushing him away by the face with a smile.

‘Twas only a suggestion my love.’ Dick laughed as he raised his hands in defence.

‘Yeah a suggestion of which would allow you to see me naked.’ You reiterated as you sat yourself on the edge of the bed to take off your shoes that had been killing your feet the entire night.

Dick pouted. ‘Is that all you see me, your sweet beloved partner, as an undignified pervert with no sense of control over my urges?’ He inquired as he crossed his arms over his chest.

‘Would you like an honest answer to that?’ You asked rhetorically.

‘Would you at least let me message your feet at least?’ Dick pleaded, ‘they must’ve been killing you sweetheart and I know how much you love my full body massages.’ He adds with a little wink, causing you to throw a pillow at him for that suggestive remark before going back to massaging your foot, only to be unable to reach the spots that were killing you the most.

Annoyed, tired and fed up, you then presented Dick with your foot and watched as his face practically light up. ‘Go on then since you’re so eager to please.’

Dick smirked. ‘Don’t I always?’

You pointed warningly at him. ‘Keep this up and I’m going to revoke some of your privileges.’

Dick only smiled as he knelt before you, kissing your exposed knee as his hands trailed up and down your leg before holding your foot. ‘I’m sure after this you’ll retract that statement.’ He confidently tells you and you scoff. ‘Oh yeah? I highly doubt-fuck that’s the spot.’ You groaned as Dick began to massage you foot, finding the source of your discomfort almost immediately.

‘Take back your statement yet my sweet?’ Dick asked teasingly as he peppered your leg with kisses as his chants worked their magic on your foot, easing the aches, the pains and whatever else they could find with ease.

‘Shut up and manage my feet Boy Wonder.’ You replied, pushing a hand through his hair, tugging at it playfully as you allowed yourself to fall backwards and into the bed bellow, unaware of Dick’s staring.

Even as you lied there half undressed you looked like heaven incarnate to him. Tonight had been a big one for the both of you but Dick thought you did wonderful and looked stunning at the same time, however he loved the you he got to see when it was just the two of you, it was a moment where he realised how lucky he was to get to see you like this and he would do anything to keep having as long as you’d stay with him; something he hoped would be the case for a long, long time.

Jason stands in the doorway and watches you get undressed with a fondness in his eyes.

He loves watching you undress already but seeing you undress after a big event that he was forced to attend was something else entirely.

He couldn’t put his finger on it but watching you undress after a long day had become Jason’s favourite thing to do, it tickled a part of him that grew up wanting to watch his partner get ready for the day ahead just as much as watching them get undressed and ready for bed.

He loved getting to see you undress as he got to admire what others couldn’t and he couldn’t help but feel prideful and happy about that. He, Jason Todd, got to see you in a way that others could never begin to understand.

You saw him watching you in the reflective surface of the mirror and couldn’t help but chuckle at the soft look upon his face as butterflies fluttered within your stomach. ‘Can I help you there handsome?’ You asked.

‘Sorry sweetheart, you’re just so beautiful and gorgeous.’ Jason says with a dopey smile stretching across his face.

‘Jay, I’m half naked.’ You chuckled, feeling your cheeks heat up under his gaze, it wasn’t your fault that you managed to have quite possibly the most sweetest, most beautiful man in Gotham calling you all theses sweet things as though it was as easy as breathing.

Jason shrugs. ‘Doesn’t change the fact that you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, half naked or not.’

You didn’t know it was possible to smile harder than you did at that moment, but you somehow managed to as you could almost feel your face split in half from your own smile. ‘That’s high praise coming from the most handsome, most beautiful man I’ve ever laid my eyes upon.’ You replied, looking back at him in time to see him take a deep breath as he walked over to you, hovering his hands over your bare shoulders before you felt the warmth of his palms warm up your shoulders.

‘Well that’s high praise coming from you chipmunk.’ Jason murmured as he kisses your cheek, resting his head atop of one of his hands on your shoulder, looking at your reflection with so much love and affection thst you swore you could’ve melted to a puddle in an instant. ‘Now how about you let me help you out of this thing and we can dress comfortably and head to bed for some cuddles, how does that sound.’ Jason adds and you couldn’t help but lean into him, tiredness making its home within your bones.

‘That sounds like heaven to me.’ You told him, kissing his cheek.

[slut4nicholas]

𝙊𝙃 𝙁𝘼𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙍, 𝙄 𝙃𝘼𝙑𝙀 𝙎𝙄𝙉𝙉𝙀𝘿 𝙄𝙄 | 𝙉𝙄𝘾𝙃𝙊𝙇𝘼𝙎 𝘼𝙇𝙀𝙓𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍 𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙑𝙀𝙕

𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙏 𝙄

a/n: i'm not entirely satisfied with this, but I felt the need to share the second part. writing smut isn't my favorite thing, but it can be fun to imagine! this piece is a bit lengthy, but i hope you all enjoy it! <3

warnings: 18+, oral (f receiving), penetration p in v, unprotected sex!

summary: after an electrifying night filled with undeniable chemistry, she returns home, heart racing from the secrets shared. but when she awakens to an unexpected surprise, desire ignites—especially when it involves her irresistible priest.

†

𝙋𝙊𝙍 𝙌𝙐𝙀 𝙇𝙊 𝙈𝘼𝙎 𝙍𝙄𝘾𝙊 𝙎𝙄𝙀𝙈𝙋𝙍𝙀 𝙀𝙎 𝙋𝙍𝙊𝙃𝙄𝘽𝙄𝘿𝙊 | as i made my way home, my thoughts spiraled into a tantalizing whirlwind of forbidden desire, all centered around charlie. every detail of him haunted my mind—his hair, that sultry voice, the way his smile ignited something deep inside me, his sculpted body that was simply irresistible. it’s a thrilling, dangerous dance of attraction i never expected to find within the hallowed walls of the church i’ve attended since my teen years.

each memory of our encounter sent electric tingles down my spine, filling me with delicious guilt, as the stark reality lingered: he’s my priest. yet, with every recollection, i find myself craving him more passionately than ever.

the sun pierced through my curtains like a spotlight, dragging me from my dreams into the sharp reality of the morning. my mother’s voice cut through the lingering haze, urgent and commanding.

“get up! father charlie is coming for dinner, and i expect this house to be spotless—no excuses. i want you on your absolute best behavior, understood?”

confusion tingled at the edges of my mind. why was he coming? it’s been almost a week since i’ve saw him, had the lady told my parents about us? did they know our secret? a wave of panic washed over me as i considered the judgment that would surely follow. how could i face my father? the weight of guilt stifled my breath, intensifying the thrill of the unknown as i grappled with the looming dread of that evening.

as dinner time approached, i was determined to look as irresistible as possible for him, wanting his gaze to linger on me, to undress me with his eyes even in front of my parents. fuck,what is wrong with me?

i slipped into my cute little white dress adorned with red bows at the front, letting my long, dark curls cascade down my shoulders. i opted for light makeup, hoping it would keep my parents from noticing anything unusual and questioning my sudden desire to impress.

i eagerly helped my mother set the table, aiming to make our long dinner table as inviting as possible for our guests. my father had dashed out for a last-minute item, while my mother was busy putting the finishing touches on a delicious dinner in the kitchen.

just as i was arranging the silverware, the doorbell rang, causing my heart to race. "It must be your father! Go on and open it!" my mom called out.

with excitement, i swung open the door, only to be taken aback by an unexpected sight—father charlie stood there, smiling warmly.

"hello," he said, his voice stern yet laced with a sweetness that sent a flutter through my chest. my words caught in my throat, rendering me speechless, but thankfully, my mother swooped in, gently nudging me aside. "excuse my daughter; she can be a bit shy," she remarked, an edge of annoyance in her tone.

charlie chuckled lightly, handing his coat to my mother, and in that moment, i felt rooted to the spot, unsure of what to do or say. i quietly made my way to the dinner table, where he and my mother awaited my father’s arrival. soon, after setting the table with the help of charlie and my mom

the door swung open, and my father entered, exchanging warm greetings with the priest. he wrapped my mother in a hug and planted a kiss on my cheek, causing charlie to flash a soft smile, filling the room with an unexpected warmth.

charlie sat across from my father, while my mother nestled close to him, her seat a cozy distance from my own, which was beside charlie but still a tad bit removed. in a nod to traditional values, my father insisted that men should occupy the edge seats at the table, marking their territory in the process.

tonight, however, charlie broke away from his typical priest attire, donning a fitted black tee that perfectly hugged his toned muscles, paired with stylish blue jeans and dress shoes that elevated his look. he was undeniably striking, and i couldn't help but notice my mother stealing glances at him, her interest unmistakable.

the atmosphere was charged, blending formality with an unspoken tension as i wondered if charlie was aware of how captivating he really was.

“father, i apologize for our absence at church lately; we've just been on a family business trip searching for the right college for my oldest son,” my mother said with a hint of regret, breaking the silence as everyone savored the delicious, warm meal in front of us. “but i promise we'll be back this Sunday, no expectations.” the pastor smiled reassuringly, “no worries, mrs. i truly miss having you all in the pews; the church has felt a bit quieter without your joyful presence.”

our family, deeply rooted in our latin heritage, held a passionate devotion to our faith, with crosses and images of the virgin mary adorning our home like cherished family portraits. “did you end up choosing a school for him?” charlie asked, his curiosity piqued as he leaned in, eager to hear about our latest adventure.

"have you, mom?" my oldest brother snapped, clearly frustrated by our parents' attempts to dictate his career path. while he dreamed of a fulfilling future in a blue-collar job, mom and dad were set on steering him toward something more prestigious—like princeton. my dad lit up at the mention, eager to share the news, while my mom squeezed his hand, her joy palpable despite the tension. nearby, charlie, our priest, flicked his gaze between my brother and our parents, noticing the undercurrents of disagreement.

i couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment; charlie hadn't said much to me since the last church gathering, and his casual glances felt like a stark contrast to the connection i had hoped we’d built. i understood he was busy, but a part of me longed for him to remember us as more than some random girl.

"how about you?" father charlie asked, fixing his gaze on me with a playful smirk. my parents, caught up in their own conversation, turned their attention our way. "um, I'm not really sure what I want to do," i replied with a light smile, but before I could dive deeper, my mother chimed in with a grin, “she’s going to be a mother and a wife to that sweet johnson boy!”

my eyes rolled in annoyance; i barely got a word in. “oh, come on, sweetie, he’s an amazing boy,” my dad added, oblivious to my frustration. “yeah, that’s what you think,” i muttered under my breath, eliciting a quiet chuckle from charlie.

the truth was that charlie secretly despised my parents and their controlling ways; he had come to spend time with me because he missed everything about me—my laughter, my innocent chatter, even the way my curls bounced when I smiled. “what do you think of him, father?” my dad asked charlie, eager for validation.

“well, I’d rather keep my opinions to myself,”

charlie replied, feeling a knot of anger form in his stomach at the thought of losing me to someone who might claim my sweet innocence as their own.

the dinner table buzzed with animated chatter and infectious laughter, but i felt a spark of mischief ignite within me. to shake off my boredom, i slipped off my shoe, playfully resting my foot on his leg, teasingly dancing my toes along the fabric of his pants. the moment his eyes shot a strong, stern glance my way, i couldn’t resist the urge to tease him further, my heart racing at the thrill of it all. i noted how his jaw clenched tightly, fists growing pale from the pressure as he fought to suppress a smile. deep down, i knew he missed even the lightest touch—the electric connection sparking between us made the dinner all the more delicious.

as dinner wound down, my parents and brother exchanged warm goodbyes with charlie, who, despite his insistence to help with cleanup, was gently shooed away by my mother. she was just grateful for his visit and wanted him to relax. then, in a surprising twist, charlie turned to me with a glint in his eye, asking if i could join him at the church to lend a hand for an upcoming fundraiser. my heart raced with excitement and curiosity—what an unexpected adventure! my parents enthusiastically approved, and as i stepped towards the door, my father wrapped me in a protective hug, reminding me to stay safe. "don't worry," charlie assured him with a charming smile, "I'll have her back before midnight." with that, i was swept away into the evening, f

charlie flung open the passenger door, a strained smile masking the simmering frustration beneath the surface while my father loomed on the porch, eyeing his every move. i waved goodbye as he slid into the driver’s seat, his jaw taut, fingers digging into the steering wheel as he pulled out of the driveway, glancing back to see my father retreat into the house. the tense silence hung in the air until he finally snapped, "so that’s the boy you’ve been sneaking out with, huh?" the edge in his voice was sharp enough to cut, and I couldn't help but scoff. "yeah, but it’s nothing. i told you i ended it before it started." “right," he said bitterly, "because your parents must be thrilled at the idea of pawning you off to some creep. what the hell?" his anger hung heavy, and i instinctively placed my hand on his arm, tracing the tense muscles with my fingers, trying to coax him back to calm. “relax, charlie! im not marrying him. why are you so worked up? It’s not like we’re anything.” he shoved my hand away, not roughly, but with a quiet intensity that sent a jolt through me. i bit my lip, a mix of shock and irritation bubbling inside me, watching him wallow in his own turmoil as the air between us crackled with unspoken words.

i couldn't shake the intensity radiating from him, his barely contained anger flickering beneath a calm facade for my parents. It was intoxicating—the way every piercing glance and biting remark sent shivers down my spine, igniting an undeniable desire within me. i craved him, yearned for him with a ferocity that made me fantasize about marrying him, bearing the children he dreamt of. i knew society would never accept it, but deep down, i was certain charlie wouldn’t give a damn. the thrill of this forbidden desire only made me want him more.

“y/n” charlie's voice dripped with urgency, igniting a fire within me, “if i could whisk you away and keep you all to myself, believe me, i would. no man—no boy—here even comes close to deserving you. for years, i’ve watched you grow, and my care for you has morphed into something fierce. i desire you more than i crave the title of 'priest.’ you’ve been burning in my thoughts, and not seeing you for a week felt like an eternity. when i stood up there to preach, all i could think of was your face, and with every passing day you weren’t there, my frustration simmered and boiled. you need to understand this—” suddenly, i ignored him, only for him to grasp my chin forcefully, compelling me to meet his gaze. “do you hear me?” he demanded, his eyes ablaze.

"yes," i whispered, locking eyes with him, a spark igniting awareness in his gaze that made him swallow hard. my mind raced with vivid imagery of me kneeling, surrendering to him just as fervently as i prayed each day. "yes what?" he pressed, his voice thick with anticipation. "yes, father," i responded, my innocent tone setting him ablaze with desire. i could feel his urgency, the way he longed to pull the car over and claim me in the backseat, where the world could witness our recklessness. let them see—if he wanted to stake his claim, then i was wholly his.

"that's my girl," he exclaimed, a devilish smirk dancing across his lips as he caught the spark of surprise flicker in my eyes. those three simple words sent a rush of heated electricity coursing through me, igniting a wild mix of excitement and longing that was hard to contain. as his fingers brushed gently against my bottom lip, I felt the world around us fade away, leaving just the two of us suspended in an intoxicating moment where everything felt possible. my heart raced, caught between exhilaration and desire, wondering what thrilling depths this connection might plunge us into next.

as we strolled past the towering façade of the old church, its stained glass windows shimmering under the fading daylight, a thrill coursed through me. i sensed that he was leading me to his sanctuary, a place that would mark the beginning of an intoxicating journey where i would be claimed wholly and unapologetically as his. The thought ignited something primal within me—a fervent desire to surrender myself entirely to him, to let him dismantle the barriers i had so carefully erected, to be utterly transformed by his touch. i welcomed the idea of being shattered, for in that destruction lay the promise of becoming his—completely and irrevocably his. it was a reckless plunge into the abyss of passion, a daring leap toward a future where i would no longer be my own, but a beautifully chaotic tapestry woven together with his deepest desires.

as we pulled up to his house, charlie swung open the passenger door, gesturing for me to step out. the moment i did, i caught sight of a group of people lounging on their porch, laughter mingling with the warm evening air. i couldn’t help but wonder what gossip would ignite amongst them at the sight of a girl arriving at her priest’s doorstep—what could they possibly think of this encounter? but that curiosity only fueled the thrill coursing through me. eagerly, we approached the door, and charlie let me in first, casting a glance at the neighbors across the street as he shut us in, a sly smirk playing on his lips. to him, it was all a game—the whispers, the speculation—he relished the thought of everyone knowing that I was HIS, wrapped in a dangerous intrigue that sent shivers down my spine.

as we stepped into his home, an electric tension crackled in the air, his hand resting possessively on the small of my back—a gesture that felt both reassuring and enticingly perilous. his gaze, intense and predatory, traced the contours of my body like a painter admiring a masterpiece, his eyes hungry and filled with desire. The moment charlie slipped off his shoes, his invitation for me to do the same felt like a seductive prelude, erasing the boundaries between us. wrapped in his warmth, i felt an exhilarating mix of security and longing, his towering height and chiseled muscles radiating strength and protection. just when i thought i could savor this moment forever, he stood close behind me, his breath teasing my neck as his fingers delicately swept my hair to one side. each soft kiss he planted along my neck ignited a flame deep within, intertwining the thrill of vulnerability with an insatiable desire to surrender to the allure unfolding between us.

charlie’s fingers slid teasingly down the delicate fabric of my dress, the soft material cascading off my shoulders like a whisper, revealing the perfectly tied red bows at the front that tantalizingly held it in place. with a sultry smirk, he pulled the dress down, letting it pool at my hips, exposing every seductive curve that made my heart race and his breath hitch. as his hands gripped my bum firmly, a playful slap ignited my skin, sending a thrill through me. i spun around, our lips crashing together with a fiery urgency that ignited the room, our kiss deepening, becoming a passionate dance of tongues seeking dominance. the air was thick with moans and the intoxicating backdrop of his lightly decorated home added an intimate ambiance that made this moment feel like a scene out of a forbidden film. god forgive me, but i craved this encounter more than i ever craved a visit to church; my back arched, pressing into his sturdy embrace as i melted against him, eager for more.

charlie broke away from the kiss to stare at my body admiring my white laced under garments that hugged every curve just right, my boobs almost spilling out the bra and cute panties with the red bow on top “you wore this just for me?”

charlie kept my leg lifted placing kisses on my inner thigh finally getting to my heat licking it slightly and eating me like i was his last supper

i pulled on his hair softly throwing my head back at the sudden pleasure

he puts a finger in me still kissing the clit pumping his finger in and out of me he pulls back standing up not letting me reach my climax which caused me to frown at the sudden urge to let go and not being able too

charlie's eyes gleamed with a mix of desire and mischief as he guided me towards the couch, his touch igniting a thrill that danced up my spine. the moment i settled into the soft cushions, i felt the weight of his gaze, like a fire tracing every curve and imperfection only he seemed to elevate to perfection.

my breath hitched, anticipation coiling tightly within me as he slowly unbuckled his pants, revealing the tantalizing outline of his bulge straining against dark, fitted underwear. heat rushed through me, and i couldn't help but gulp at the sight—he was an intoxicating blend of confidence and allure that left me utterly captivated.

charlie pushed me back lightly releasing himself from his underwear “grab your ankles and lay down” i do as told exposing myself to him grunting at the sight he spits on his hard cock jerking off slightly at the sight.

he enters into me, holding my legs and pulling me close, while i grip the soft cushions around me for support. he continues to thrust hard and fast, taking me to a climax that leaves me breathless.

this new sensation enveloped me, igniting a fire within that i could neither quench nor contain; it was a delicious addiction I never wanted to shake off.

charlie's whimpers and moans crescendoed around us, a symphony of ecstasy that threatened to veil my own gasps, which i fought to muffle—desperate to avoid drawing eyes our way

but charlie? he was under no such constraint, reveling in every intoxicating thrill, blissfully unaware of the world outside our bubble. the air crackled with unspoken desires, heightening the thrill, as I tried not to betray the wild yearning surging through every fiber of my being.

his strokes becoming sloppier and slower by the minute.

“so fucking wet and tight”.

i felt him twitching inside of me pulling out and releasing all over my stomach causing me to bit my lip at the unholy sight in front of me.

as charlie gently wiped the droplets of him from my skin with a soft towel, his smile illuminated the moment, filling the air with warmth and tenderness. his small kiss on my forehead felt like a promise of comfort and connection, a sweet reminder of the bond we shared.

as he handed me my dress with a reassuring grip on my hand, I felt an overwhelming sense of support, like he was there not just to help me get dressed, but to wrap me in his unwavering affection

once we were both ready, his arms encircled me in a secure embrace, and just before we stepped back into the world, he leaned in for one last kiss that lingered, an echo of love amidst the laughter and the chaos surrounding us.

as the door clicked shut behind us, a wave of adrenaline surged between us

thankfully, no curious eyes bore witness to our exit, or hell would’ve ensued. charlie led the way to his car, the tension palpable as he opened the passenger door for me, a silent promise hanging in the air that we were in this together

the moment his tires crunched over gravel, i glanced back to see my father emerge from the shadows of our porch, suspicion etched across his face, while charlie’s jaw tightened like a vice as he prepared for the inevitable storm. "someone said something, i know it," i spoke up, and without hesitation, charlie met his gaze with defiance. he might have been crossing a line, but that didn't matter; love was a risk he was more than willing to take—and hell hath no fury like a forbidden love.

[zriasstuff]

Them watching you get ready <3

Slytherin boys x reader fluff headcanons (warning:delulu asf)

the collage isn’t the best, but at least you have all 6 faces now

It’s date-night, but you seem to be taking quite some time to get ready…

Tom Riddle:

Let’s be honest for a second and admit that if you were taking your sweet sweet time, he’d curse at you because everything has to go according to his schedule (i even doubt that he’d do the whole “date-night” thing, but that’s a separate issue)

He’d turn more impatient by the second and barge into your dorm/bathroom without knocking

Tom would rush you so badly and keep telling you to hurry up while rolling his eyes

While you’re doing your makeup he’d pick up each product with disgust and tell you that you look just fine

When you tell him that you need more time, he tells you that there wouldn’t be a date anymore if you didn’t follow him, besides he’d lecture you on your poor time management

Eventually he drags you out with him and dryly compliments you like “see, i told you you look good” (but innerly he enjoyed that you put in effort and wanted to look good for him, even if it took some time)

Mattheo Riddle:

He wouldn’t rush you when you tell him you need more time, instead he’d take advantage of watching you get ready

When you choose your clothes, he’d encourage you to do a little fashion show for him and he would tell you that you looked perfect in every single one

He would tell you to choose a short and tight dress though, we all know why ;)

During make-up he is totally one of those guys who say “it’s all the same shade”, and in reality it’s like maroon and bright red

As a joke he’d also apply some of the products, but wipe them off immediately because he feels too emasculated

When you ask him if you could do make-up on him some day he’d simply reply “sure, but then i would get to do whatever i want with you”

Draco Malfoy:

When you offer him to watch you get ready, since you still aren’t done, he immediately accepts

Draco totally loves seeing you get ready too because during your relationship he has spoiled you so much that half your closet/vanity is basically from him

Since he grew up close to his mother, he has actually spent a lot of time in his childhood going to barbers/salons/boutiques with her

So from that he has gained excellent taste, even helps you with styling your hair, and helps you pick out accessories

He knows how long this stuff can take, so he just takes the time to make you feel beautiful and confident, showering you with compliments and pecks “you look so good in the things i buy you darling”/“you are always so gorgeous and sexy”

Theodore Nott:

He wouldn’t mind that you were not on time, the date started the second he saw you, so you getting ready was just time that you could spend together too

You are afraid it takes away the surprise factor at first, but it’s not a big deal to him

When you start to change into different outfits, he’s always there to help you undress/unzip the dresses, taking the opportunity to smoothly move his hands down your body

That would just eventually turn into a makeout session though, you just couldn’t resist when he was being that touchy and ravishing too

It takes quite some time for you to actually get ready in the end because he always distracts you in the process, but in the end you would both have had a fun time

Blaise Zabini:

He’d be quite chill and sit on your bed when you tell him to wait, just watching you get ready at your vanity

He would maybe be a little bit annoying—asking you every three seconds if you were ready to go, and he would say “you literally look the same as always, what’s the point of all this”

Eventually he liked watching you more and more though, notice the difference, and carefully pay attention to everything you did

He’d learn to appreciate both your natural and “full-glam” beauty and just observe you with interest

As soon as you were done he’d immediately kiss you (ruining your lip-combo sadly) and his lips would be stained, and he’d be smiling, fascinated by your beauty

Lorenzo Berkshire:

When you tell him to wait outside, he’d respect that at first, but would grow impatient eventually

So, he goes up to you and tells you that he would like to be a part of the process

Opposite to Mattheo, he’d actually be down to you putting make-up on his face for fun (he’s fully convinced that he could pull anyone with or without makeup)

To be honest, he didn’t care much about what you put on because you looked hot in his eyes either way, but he knew the more interested he acted the more appreciative you’d be

Looking at you with puppy-eyes at all times is his specialty, and when you’re finally done he looks at you like you’re an angel fallen from heaven

[breedbun]

loid x male reader idk lol.. with homoerotic tensions between you and loid obviously because it's fun!

details: male reader, spy x family, m!reader x loid, yor does not have romantic feelings for loid, anya is silently watching all ts unfold. this will NOT be canon. EXTREMELY homoerotic friendship. youre loid's informant, u replace franky xd

warnings: homo obv, amab reader, he/him pronouns, femboy reader (haha i love dresses), yuri thinks you're a girl and tries to pursue you after thinking loid cares for you.

sfw !! ; your "first" encounter with Yor and.. her eccentric brother. not my best work ^_^ NSFW (no plot) coming soon guys calm down

"When the stars align, I'll see you again one day."

As tensions don't ease between Ostania and Westalis, Loid continues to do his part to ensure the large possibility of war breaking out between the East and the West does not shatter the fragile peace they have at the moment. While Loid may be the best of the best spies, you come in handy for him too, obviously. Living your life as (Y/N, L/N) is pretty simple. You live in the same apartment complex as Loid, you work at a cutesy bakery which you enjoy greatly, and you have a stable side job as an informant for Loid. So, even while you pursue your simplistic and carefree life, you're still doing your part to help keep Ostania and Westalis safe! How you get your information, was top secret, but you did have an ability for thieving and hacking.. and that came in handy.

Whilst Loid had initially asked you to pretend to be his wife for Anya's school interview, you were quite hesitant.. but still accepted! And really, you made.. a perfect wife. Seeing you all dressed up and talking like Loid's wife, and Anya's mother, it honestly woke something up in Loid. But alas, Loid had found a real mother for Anya, and to be honest, you joked about how this was definitely cheating. In an unrelated note, you were happy to provide Loid with information he needed.. as long as he had the dollars to pay for it, hehe.

When the day came for Loid to introduce you as a friend to his new pretend-wife, Yor, you agreed, even if you felt just a little bitter. Your only comfort was that it was just play pretend.

You stepped into your small walk-in wardrobe, examining the arrays of adorable dresses hung up within your shelves. You pick a relatively modest, ruffled one, with pink and red hues, unzipping the back of the dress. Undressing yourself, you step into your dress, and pull it up, zipping the back of your clothing up. Picking a pair of laced socks, and pretty shoes, you chose a pastry leftover in your fridge and packed it up into a paper bag. Once you got your irritatingly hard-to-wear shoes on, you finally left the house and locked your front door with a firm click.

Happily strolling down the hall of you and Loid's apartment complex, you reach the elevator and press the button to the floor above your home. As you arrive in front of Loid's door, you hear.. yelling. Of a man's voice, clearly not Loid's calm voice, because he'd never yell at his family this angrily, honestly. You debate whether or not you should even ring the doorbell at this point.. but your hand knocks on the door before you can come to a conclusion.

The yelling stops momentarily, and Loid opens the door. You offer him a quick smile, looking over his shoulder as you saw.. a strange black-haired man, Yor, and little Anya. Anya loved when you came over, too.

"Great timing, (Y/N). Come, come in," Loid ushers you in, an arm over your shoulders as he guides you to the dinner table.. where there was a strangely strong scent of wine. As you sit down, you glance over at Yor, offering her a warm smile. She smiled back, and it comforted you knowing that Yor was obviously a kindhearted woman. Loid picked a lovely girl to be his pretend-wife. Anyway, the strange black-haired man stares straight at you, squinting as his face seemed flush and his posture screamed of.. 'drunk.' For a moment, it was oddly silent. The only sound was Loid bringing away the plates, and cleaning the table, while Anya toyed with a cute plush llama. Yor held Anya in her arms, letting her sit on her lap, while Yuri.. kept staring.

"...Ah, um. You.. you alright, there?" You ask, taking a sip of the wine Loid had poured for you just a few minutes ago. Yuri stood up from the sofa, groggily approaching you, a hand on the table cloth as he breached your personal space carelessly. Loid placed a hand on Yuri's shoulder, raising an eyebrow as he noticed your discomfort, how you shrunk in your chair and how your nose scrunched ever so slightly. Simply, Loid guides Yuri to sit down in a chair beside you. "Yuri. Maybe you shouldn't go that close to my friend, yes?"

Yuri also raised an eyebrow. He crossed his arms, before struggling to stand up again, pushing his index finger against Loid's chest. "Loid Forger...! Are you... is this.. IS THIS YOUR SISTER?!" Yuri yelled, a snarky grin on his face as he glanced towards you, your face flushing ...out of second-hand embarrassment for this strange man named Yuri. He snickers, moving away from Loid as Yuri places two hands beside you, against the back of your chair, as he leaned in, trapping you against the backrest chair and him. "If you're going to steal m—MY sister, Forger, I will definitely.. steal YOURS!!"

Ah. He's on the floor now.

Loid had immediately pushed Yuri off, as Yor rushed to Yuri's side, seemingly embarrassed of her own brother, you'd assume.. from how similar they looked. Loid glared at Yuri for just a split second, which you caught onto immediately, still shocked as you leaned against the back of your chair. Loid's expression immediately shifts to one of faked apologetic empathy, kneeling down to help Yuri.. and being pushed away by him as well.

"You were invading (Y/N)'s space. I had no choice, but to pull you off. I just didn't expect you to lose your balance, Yuri."

You try your best to include yourself in this incident. You are the supposed 'victim' after all. So, you crouch down, helping Yuri up with Yor, giving him a small shy smile, praying that he doesn't take it in the wrong way. In doing so, he actually accepts your help.

"No, it's alright, Loid! It's fine. He's extremely intoxicated, it seems," you added, chuckling sympathetically (which is not real!) as Yuri stands up with you and Yor's help. You assume Yor is a strong woman, since.. clearly, Yuri doesn't feel as heavy as he looks.. he didn't feel as heavy as a grown man, at least. As such, Loid apologises to Yuri again, laughing as he tries to brush it off. Yuri starts to sound like an old man yelling at a cloud, but everyone tries to calm him down. It's not long before Yuri falls asleep on the couch. Yeah.. it'd be best to let him nap for now, probably?

With a tug of your arm, you look down to see precious Anya... seemingly starstruck by how you dressed.

"...Princess?"

And just before you can respond—

"Oh! Prince!"

Huh? How'd she know that? Not many children realize that you're.. well, a guy. Not with your pretty hair, soft face, and dresses.