#he's going to burn this place to the ground there that's your hint

[heegyukeluv]

can't take it? (enha's hyung line) 

enha's hyung line when reader has high stamina and can go multiple rounds.

pairing: hyung line x afab!reader

my's note: unironically just thought about it and wrote it lol

warnings: established relationship, pet names (baby, darling, babe, angel, pretty) SMUT - so minors DO NOT interact!, implied unprotected sex (please, don't!!!), implied multiple orgasms, cowgirl, dirty talk, overstimulation (both), oral (f. receiving), fingering, lowkey nipple play, choking, belly bulge kink(?), they cum inside. lmk if i missed something!!!

wc (total): 1.8k

NOT PROOFREAD.

taglist 💖: @yvnempire, @marigold-sunflowers

Heeseung would see it as a challenge and force himself through it even though he's teetering on the edge of giving up.

“F–Fuck, Hee…” You cried out, your body jolting, exposed breasts moving up and down to your boyfriend’s hard and deep thrusts inside your dripping cunt.

You didn’t know exactly what to do with your hands as the overwhelming feeling grew in your lower stomach, indicating your second climax coming. Torn in between kneading your boobs and rubbing your own clit, you tried to give the best view to Heeseung.

But he wore an expression of intense focus, as if his sole purpose in life was to make you cum uncountable times. And to some extent, it was. His fingers were deep in your hips, holding you still as he just kept going, eyes focused on where you both encountered.

In and out. In and out. In and out.

Heeseung didn’t care about overstimulating you – or himself. No, definitely not. So when you announced you had your orgasm, he continued on thrusting hard, fast, deep, tirelessly hitting your g-spot with his sensitive tip, since he had already cummed two times as well.

“S’too much–” You mumbled, shaking your head, squirming under the pressure he held to keep you stay as possible. “Too– Much–Ah, fuck, Hee–”

“Take it.” He managed to say, voice hoarse, low, determined, though his body was starting to betray his primal will.

The slapping sounds flooded the room as a lascivious, beautiful symphony. Heeseung looked up to catch a glimpse of hooded eyes and fucked out expression. He smirked, feeling proud of himself for leading you to the edge of insanity. 

Your nails scraped down his back when he leaned closer, slotting perfectly in between your legs that wrapped around his waist, leaving red trails as you clawed at him for any sort of grounding.

“Hee, I c-can’t–!” Your protest dissolved into a broken moan when his thumb found your overstimulated clit, circling it in unwavering motions.

Heeseung’s warm mouth found place on your hardened nipples, playing with them by swirling his tongue around it and sucking just slightly, his pace never lacking, giving you an overwhelming experience of stimulus; you felt Heeseung everywhere. 

You winced, skin tingling in despair as you cried beneath him, a complete whining mess. You were loving each second, head spinning and your chest pounding strongly; your tongue quickly swept on the corner your lips to clean your light drooling and consequently tasted the salty taste of your tears.

Heeseung trailed his hot muscle up to kiss you, a hint of a victorious grin gracing his lips as he watched you lose yourself before him. His only objective was to tire you and win that fucking stupid inner challenge. 

“You wanted it,” he groaned, close to your ear. You whimpered, feeling another wave of pleasure crossing you. “Fucking take it.”

Jay would politely ask for a break ever once and a while, falling on the bed, panting, struggling to find words in between heavy breaths.

“Oh, fuck,” Jay grunted, his body trembling slightly, thighs burning after rolling his hips in an admirable constancy.

He had cummed one time already with you positioned in all fours, but he could feel his second orgasm just as close.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck–” he chanted, jaw clenching, his digits pressing your sides with a strength that got you clenching harder, knowing it would leave marks. You loved to be marked by Jay.

Under Jay’s sight, you looked extra gorgeous with your face down and ass up, rocking back and forth within each pound, moans getting lost in between the lewd slapping sounds. You could feel his balls smacking against your pussy, sending vibrations straight to your clit and a rush of delight towards your core.

“Jay!” You nearly screamed, but your voice got lost in the pillow you had buried your face. 

Still, your mouth fell open, the tears in the corner of your closed eyes smearing your makeup and staining the pillowcase, your hands fisting the bed as you whined Jay’s name.

Soon after, you felt his warm liquid filling you up again, your own release mixing with it and making a mess. 

Jay pumped a few more times to ride you in your high before dropping himself by your side, panting hard, body still weak due to the effort of pleasing you. He had his eyes fluttered close as he tried to regain his composure, air difficulty making its way down his burning lungs. He felt his throat dry and groaned when you turned his body upwards. 

“Just… A sec… Please… Darling…” He said in between ragged breaths and you giggled, grabbing the bottle of water on the nightstand and handing it to him, watching his neck moving as he drank on it.

After he finished and you drank a bit yourself, you shot him a glance. He quivered, eyes widening a little. 

“Want more,” you mumbled, straddling on the bed just to position yourself on top of him. “But don’t worry, I’ve got you,” and with a wink and a smirk mischievously dancing on your lips, you aligned Jay’s softened dick on your folds, starting to grind back and forth.

All he could do was to rest his hands on your hips and pray not to pass out.

Jake would be so tired after the first round but he mastered the art of making you cum with his tongue and fingers a few times before fucking you.

The slurping sounds echoed through the room as lascivious as the wet noises of Jake’s fingers. He was switching in between fucking you with his tongue and with his slender digits, the same ones that would curl on the exact shape to hit your sensitive spot.

You had no idea of how much you have cummed, your cries entering Jake’s ears deliciously and traveling all the way down to his leaking cock. 

He was so fucking turned on by your pretty sounds and your body searching for his own, searching for pleasure on his mouth and fingers. He could spend hours with his head buried between your legs; the pressure of your thighs against it was too good to dismiss, the sweet taste of your pussy melting on his palatar was addictive. 

Jake loved how high your libido was, nearly matching his own. However, he would be extra tired after having his orgasm, so he just learned how to get yourself done until he finished fucking you deep and hard.

“God, Jake– Your fingers– So good–” You threw your head on the pillow as your back arched, your hips grinding on his face and hands shamelessly. 

“Like my fingers, babe?” He asked within a grin, trying to ignore his aching dick screaming for some friction. 

Jake didn’t want to rut on the mattress, because he had a job to do and it was to fill you up with his seed after eating you out for who knows how long. His hands were messy with your juice, just like the sheets beneath you two. He couldn’t care less.

To have you, screaming his name just with his fingers and tongue was satisfying at most for him to worry about bed clothing. 

You nodded, lost into the blissful desire Jake provided so perfectly. You jolted forward when you felt his lips sucking on your clit, his fingers now far gone from your pulsing hole as he licked your folds, lapping his tongue with precision, nearly making out with your cunt.

“Cumming–” You whispered with a broken voice, just to scream after; the grip on Jake’s locks tightening, eliciting a moan from him. 

He chuckled, drinking from your arousal just like it was his favorite drink.

“Give me one more and then I fuck you with my cock, yeah?”

Sunghoon would match your energy. If you can go for a whole fucking night, so does he. 

“Yeah, ride my fucking dick, baby,” Sunghoon moaned, brows furrowing with how warm and wet you were around him, swallowing every centimeter of his shaft.

You were on top of him, bouncing, riding, doing anything that gave you the euphoria of being fulfilled. Both emotionally and physically. 

Sunghoon definitely loved you, and the biggest proof was when he started doing gym just to match your stamina in bed, now able to follow you throughout the whole night without tiring too much. He could do it just fine before, but he wanted to be sure he was giving you the best. Always.

“Fucking shit, so good,” he bit his lip, smirking, admiring the view of your boobs jumping as you tried new ways to pleasure yourself, his eyes wandering each curve of your body. You felt his dick throbbing inside you. “My baby is so good, feels so good,” he said in between moans as his hands gripped your hips to help you.

You decided to grind back and forth, the last two orgasms helping to ease the movements; your lips were parted chanting Sunghoon’s name like a beautiful, addictive mantra. 

He could feel how you started to squeeze his dick in no time, his finger sliding towards your clit to give just enough of friction. 

“I love your cock–” You slurred, drunk in Sunghoon’s scent getting all over you. The feeling of his hard length nearly destroying you inside was too good not to vocalize. “Love it so fucking much– So big, so deep– Mhm…” You sounded… delighted, as if you were experiencing the best sensation of your life – and you were. 

Your exposed neck as you threw your head back invited Sunghoon's long fingers to wrap around it gently, just to give a light press that interrupted your airways to work properly for a few seconds. Your mind entered a haze of ecstasy, one that got you accelerating your riding almost instantly and seeking for your release as soon as possible.

The coil in your stomach tightened, and at some point you started to notice you could feel Sunghoon’s dick in there as well. One of your hands gave away the support you found on his chest just to press your belly, provoking Sunghoon’s hips to buck forward as he felt the slight pressure. 

“F–Fuck,” he stammered, letting go from your neck and clit to hold you still on top of him, starting to thrust frantically. “Cum for me, angel– Cum with me.”

As if a command, your moans increased the volume, so did Sunghoon’s thrusts, until you came all over his body, your juices mixed with his seed coating his dick and part of his stomach.

He gave you nearly seconds to recompose, maneuvering your body to lay back on the bed. You both smirked, because you knew what was coming. 

“We’re in for a long night, pretty.”

[satinestales]

❝programmed for pleasure❞ | qimir x fem!reader

pairing: qimir x fem!reader

summary: Your best friend Qimir always had your back, and that didn't change when the Jedi accused you of treachery. Without hesitation, Qimir helps you hide. After days of close quarters and constant danger, things get heated and secrets flow to the surface.

warnings: this is just filth, english is not my native language, p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex (who needs it with him right), fingering, hints of mind control, reader finds out qimir's identity during the act, choking, cockwarming, degradating, praising, 5k+ words, not proofread

a/n: in ep2 when osha was pretending to be mae and qimir's mask dropped- so did my panties and i wish we could see what would happen if the jedi didnt barge in

also i apologise if this is not my best work my brain's rotting

now playing, fill the void by the weekend and lily rose depp

The sun blazed overhead, casting long shadows across the bustling market square. The air shimmered with heat, and the scent of exotic spices mixed with the dust kicked up by the steady flow of people. The cacophony of merchants hawking their wares and customers bartering for goods filled the air, creating a lively yet chaotic atmosphere. That's when you jumped in, covered in a heavy cloak, weaving through the crowd, moving with desperate urgency that contrasted sharply with the slow pace of the marketgoers.

Your breaths came in ragged gasps, and sweat trickled down your temples, but you didn’t dare slow down. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing the fear that suffocated you.

You glanced over your shoulder, scanning for signs of your pursuers. There, in the distance, the unmistakable silhouettes of Jedi Knights moved with an unerring determination, their robes flowing like liquid shadows. Panic surged within you, propelling you forward even faster.

You stumbled into a fruit vendor, nearly toppling the cart, and barely registering the vulgar complaint thrown at you, only focused on your desired destination.

Ahead, through the throng of people, you spotted the familiar sign of your friend’s shop. It was a small, unassuming place, nestled between two larger establishments, almost easy to miss if you didn't know what to look for. You aimed yourself toward it like a ship setting course for a distant star, your legs burning from the exertion.

Another quick glance back showed the Jedi gaining ground, their calm, composed faces a stark contrast to your own panic. You had to reach the shop; you had to get to safety. With a final burst of energy, you pushed through a group of curious onlookers, thrusting them to the ground, and practically threw yourself against the door of the shop.

It swung open with a jingle of bells as you tumbled inside, the cool air a welcome relief against the overheating streets. You slammed the door shut behind you, the noise causing your friend, Qimir, to look up from behind the counter, his eyes widening in surprise.

"Hey, what are you—"

"Shush," you panted, leaning heavily against the door, trying to catch your breath, scanning any sign of the Jedi through the glass door. "I need to hide."

“What is going on?” Qimir appeared right behind you, his face a mix of concern and curiosity. He motioned for you to follow him. This wasn’t the first time you had begged Qimir to help you, and many times you had promised to pay him back, but you never did. You tried to calm yourself as you followed him to the back of the shop where the infamous hidden trapdoor was placed.

“I owe you,” you breathed out, looking up at Qimir before you kneeled down to get in, climbing your way into a narrow space, the darkness of the room slowly enveloping you.

“You always do,” he murmured to himself before he closed the door, leaving you alone in the pitch-black darkness. You’d been here many times, so it wasn’t difficult finding a certain switch, turning on the lights that partially blinded you. As you quickly got used to them, your other senses heightened, hearing Qimir making his way back to the front of the shop above your head.

You pressed yourself against the cool earth, willing your racing heart to calm. Above, you could hear the faint murmur of voices, the unmistakable timbre of the Jedi questioning. You held your breath, every muscle in your body tense, praying that your hiding place would remain undiscovered.

You calmed yourself, putting your hand on your chest where your heart would be, carefully listening to the conversation above you.

“Have you seen a cloaked figure running by this shop? We saw them run this way; do not bother us with lies,” came Yord’s unmistakable voice. You had never liked him, even as a youngling or a Padawan. He finished his trials sooner than you and felt the need to remind you every second. Today was the last day you decided to respect it.

“I think I saw someone pass by, but I didn’t see their face or where they were going,” you heard Qimir lie to the Jedi, protecting you again. You never grasped how he could lie to the Jedi and not get caught. You always suspected he was Force-sensitive and accidentally blocked everyone out of his mind, but that theory vanished quickly when he once face-planted on the ground after you woke him from his peaceful sleep. Maybe he was just a good liar.

Minutes felt like hours, but eventually, you heard the Jedi grow quiet, leaving the shop. You allowed yourself a tentative sigh of relief, knowing that you had narrowly escaped capture. For now, you were safe, as long as you stayed with Qimir.

It didn’t take long for Qimir to come back for you, opening the trapdoor to get you out. You climbed fast, jumping at him, almost crushing him with your suffocating hug.

“I’d like an elaboration on this one,” he declared into your ear, waiting for you to let go of the hug but returning it with slight pressure. “Weren’t you supposed to be in the Outer Rim? That’s where your Master sent you.” You let him go, running your fingers through his hair, making a big mess on his head. He let out an annoyed scuff, furrowing his eyebrows, but his smile betrayed him.

“Hmm,” you whispered, turning back to him to walk to the door and shut down the blinds. The Jedi might have been gone, but you weren’t sure. “I was already there. Mission accomplished.” You replied with excitement as you threw away your cloak on the counter, turning in a circle back to Qimir. His expression was to die for.

“Wait,” he picked up his hand as if to stop you from coming closer to him. You stopped your movements, a cheerful smile playing on your lips. “You killed Kelnacca, without a weapon, and managed to come back and do whatever you did for the Jedi to hunt you down?” He didn’t trust you at all, and it was painfully obvious. He circled around you to block your way, even if you had no intention of going outside and leaned against the counter.

“I killed Kelnacca without a weapon, came back here, and killed Torbin.” You smiled, hoping for Qimir to cheer up too, for he was the one always believing in you and your Master’s missions for you. “That’s why they chased me; they found out. But it’s done. I did it.” You couldn’t help but jump towards him, looking up at him as he stared you down.

“You killed them both without a weapon?” he repeated his question, scanning your figure up and down, like he was trying to figure out if you’re joking or serious. Your smile dropped, as you realized he was more of a puppet to your master than your friend. You liked Qimir, but there were times when you didn’t know what he was thinking or where he was going on random days.

You scuffed to yourself, annoyed but understanding in some way. You weren’t always the best apprentice, but you earned it. You earned your place as his pupil and hoped, one day, your master would show his face to you.

“Is this what you want?” you asked, irritated, throwing a tied bag on the counter, right next to Qimir’s hands. He was hesitant but opened the sack, revealing two Jedi lightsabers: Kelnacca’s and Torbin’s. “I could have brought their heads, but that would defeat the purpose.” You added, frustration obvious in your tone. You were so excited to tell Qimir, your friend, about the great news and were immediately let down by his reaction. You hoped he’d be happy for you, finally safe from your Master as you satisfied him with your work.

"Sorry, just shocked," he let out a small chuckle before closing the bag again and leaving it on the counter. "He'll be so pleased with you," he turned to you, a wide smile on his lips. The drastic changes in his mood always scared you, but now you were simply happy you could share the happy news with him.

“Of course I’m proud of you too,” Qimir added, coming towards you to pull you into another hug, this one warmer and more reassuring. You hesitatingly wrapped your arms around him, melting in his embrace. However small and skinny he looked behind his untidy clothes, whenever he hugged you, you almost disappeared between his arms.

“Now who’s gonna tell him?” you muttered into his shoulder before he let go of you, his hands leaving your back seconds later. You were so happy about your success that you never thought of informing your master. Even though you passed his test, you were still nervous about talking to him. His mask was scary enough for you, and his quiet mannerisms were even worse. You could never read what he was thinking, what he was planning next, or what he might be contemplating doing to you. If Qimir volunteered to inform him, you wouldn’t protest.

“Well, you should,” he stated to your bad luck. “I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.” He smiled before going behind the counter to search for something on the lower shelf. You had to snort at his choice of words.

“Please,” you chuckled. “My Master? Thrilled?” You came behind Qimir, observing as his long fingers grasped a small glass of orange drink and set it on the table. “I don’t think he’s ever shown any emotions besides boredom and anger.”

“That’s because he’s wearing a mask,” Qimir pointed out, pouring the orange fluid into two separate small glasses. “Maybe he’s smiling behind it.” You admired Qimir’s delusion.

“I bet,” you started, waiting impatiently for Qimir to finish pouring the drinks, “he’s actually planning my demise behind that mask.”

Qimir handed you a glass, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Or he’s planning your next big test, which he’ll pretend doesn’t impress him but secretly makes him proud.”

You raised your glass to his, a smirk forming on your lips. “To surviving another day and confusing my Master,” you toasted.

Qimir clinked his glass against yours. “To more victories and shared secrets.”

As you took a sip, the cool, sweet liquid refreshing your parched throat, you felt a wave of gratitude wash over you. Despite the looming threat of your master’s reaction, Qimir’s unwavering support made you feel like you could handle anything. With a deep breath, you set your glass down and looked at him, determination shining in your eyes.

“Alright,” you said, your voice steady. “I’ll tell him. But if he decides to execute me, I’m holding you responsible.”

Qimir laughed, a sound that felt like a balm to your frayed nerves. “Deal. But I have a feeling you’ll come out of this stronger than ever.”

“Let’s hope,” you sighed, leaning against the counter on your elbows, letting Qimir’s eyes wash over you. “Also, he has to be hiding something.”

“What do you mean?” Qimir asked, a confused expression on his face as he put his already empty glass down.

“What if he’s deformed under the mask?” you let out, your face scrunching at the thought. “Or what if he’s just ugly?” You stared at nothing, not paying any attention to the words you were saying.

Qimir’s eyebrows twitched with amusement as he scanned you carefully. “You haven’t seen his face yet?” he asked, noticing how you played with your ring between your fingers as you stared down at the ground.

“You know I haven’t,” you replied with an annoyed sigh. “Look, I made peace with it, but I’m still curious about what he looks like. I want to know who’s teaching me all these things.” You complained, pushing yourself away from the counter, your eyes glancing at the black curtains over the window.

Qimir leaned back, crossing his arms with a thoughtful look. “I get it. It’s human nature to want to see the face behind the mask. But maybe it’s more about what he’s teaching you than what he looks like.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, shaking your head. “Leave it to you to find the deeper meaning. I just want to make sure I’m not taking orders from someone who might be scarier without the mask.”

Qimir chuckled, stepping closer. “You’ve faced Jedi Knights, completed impossible missions, and survived under his training. Whatever he looks like under that mask, you’ve proven you’re stronger than any fear or curiosity.”

His words settled over you like a comforting blanket, and you felt a bit of the tension ease from your shoulders. “You always know what to say, don’t you?” you turned back to face him, a genuine smile on your lips. Lately, you had noticed the way he looked at you. How his eyes darkened when he thought you weren’t watching. How his arms twitched your way when you walked past him and his intense gaze during your conversations. Like now.

Qimir was your friend, supplier, and occasional therapist. You could always vent to him about your Master, and he listened carefully. Many times, you slept over in his shop, passing out on the floor, exhausted from your tests and missions. You couldn’t count how many times you bled out in front of him and woke up the next day with your wounds bound and healed. You knew Qimir had his own secrets that he wasn’t confident in sharing with you, but some things kept you awake at night, wondering.

Despite his poor hygiene and greasy hair that framed his face in an unflattering way, you found him magnetic and charismatic. Something about him pulled you closer, and you didn’t know what. Between the nightmares and horrors, you were a victim to in your dreams, Qimir showed up to comfort you many times. You were embarrassed every time you woke from them, but the images never left your mind. And whenever you saw him after, you deep down wished they would become true.

Two days have passed since then, yet his intense gaze still lingered in your mind. He let you use his shop as your personal sanctuary, a hidden refuge from the Jedi that didn’t stop searching for you. Each day, you watched them through the window. Three times they've marched past, and twice they've entered, repeating the same questions, their eyes scanning for any sign of you.

Qimir once suggested you could leave the planet, but you quickly dismissed the idea. The Jedi now controlled who could leave or enter the exosphere. You regretted not hiding Torbin’s body, leaving him there to rot. Anger had taken over. You wanted the Jedi to find him. You wanted to shove it in their faces.

The days began to stretch into what felt like weeks, with only the tension between you and Qimir keeping you alert, even though it made time drag. The first night when you jumped out of the shower and had to borrow his clothes, you didn’t miss the way his eyes flew to your legs that the towel didn’t fully cover. Or when you tied your hair into a braid, his gaze never wavered. You didn't mind being observed, but with Qimir, it was different. His gaze made your stomach flip, and you couldn’t decide if in a good or bad way. His touch made you shiver, his presence alone made your skin burn. The only relief was that he wasn’t sensitive to the Force. If he knew what you thought every time you saw his hands or brushed against him, you’d want to drown yourself.

A few hours after you hid in his shop and got drunk together, you both decided it would be fun to practice some moves and fighting techniques, without lightsabers. Minutes later, you found yourself straddling Qimir’s lap, pinning his hands above his head. You knew he could easily turn the tables and have his way with you, but he didn't move a muscle. Instead, he laid there, letting you crush his lap as he circled your face. You remembered it vividly: how his breath tickled you, how his lips were so close that moving an inch would ruin your carefully built friendship. You were grateful for the self-control classes your Master put you through.

Now you were seated on the floor, leaning against the cold surface of the counter, staring out the window. The black curtains were no obstacle to you. You heard Qimir coming out of the shower; he didn’t want to smell like the gasoline you accidentally spilled on him. You held a glass of some beverage Qimir had prepared, both of you slowly getting dizzy from boredom and drinks. Resting your head against the table, you closed your eyes and saw Qimir through the Force. He was still in his small, cozy bathroom, drying himself with a towel. His hair was wet but looked better than it had a few days ago. His back muscles flexed as he raised his arms to dry his hair. You hadn't realized he was so fit under his clothes, and it made you squirm in your seat.

You knew you shouldn’t be spying on him like this, but the only time you had seen him like this was in your dreams, and reality was far more enticing. Your thoughts grew louder with each passing second, one screaming over another.

He was your friend and also worked for your Master. It would be wrong. You knew the consequences it could have on your relationship with Qimir, and you didn’t want to risk it. But the way he looked at you, the way his proximity made you feel, and the thought of his body against yours drove you crazy.

Your Master wasn’t against you having lovers and fulfilling your desires, as long as you stayed loyal to him. But you weren’t sure how he would feel if his two subjects started something together.

“You alright?” Qimir’s voice woke you from your thoughts as he stood in front of you. Only in his pants. You looked up at him, trying to contain your craving as you checked him up. Droplets still falling down his chest as he leaned against the other shelf, looking down at you from dangerous vicinity.

You almost choked on air, forcing yourself to look away.

“Yeah,” you choked on your words, lifting the glass to take a sip of your untouched brew. “Why you ask?” you forced a smile, missing his still wet, glossy chest to get to his face. Your heart dropped as you met with his prolonged stare. Half-lidded dark eyes staring right at you, his silhouette towering over you as he took a step closer, throwing the towel he was holding on the table.

“You staring into distance kind of scared me.” He chuckled, tilting his head as he leaned against the counter, you almost broke your neck looking up at him. He was right above you.

His hand was placed right above his pants that got to caress his thighs first. His skin was clean and wet, scars decorating his abs. His muscular chest was uncovered, free for you to admire. When he spoke to you his voice was low and raspy, different from the one he usually used. Your heart fluttered as you noticed his eyes wondering around you as he awaited your response.

You had to move, you thought to yourself. Pushing yourself against the floor you lifted yourself to your legs, the drink in your hand spilling as your hand twitched from almost falling into Qimir’s arms. You could feel the warmth radiating of off him and smell the shower gel he used. His hair was dripping wet, droplets adoring his sharp collarbones. His nipples were hard from the chilly temperature in the shop, his forearm big and large, holding his body above the table.

“Just, concentrating.” You coughed, putting the glass on the counter. “So,” you woke yourself from your dreaming, turning away from him, trying hard not to stumble. The drinking wasn’t as bad as Qimir’s half naked figure centimeters away from you. You felt faint and your thoughts only got worse, like somebody was putting them in. You felt a pressure, but you were convinced you were doing it to yourself subconsciously.

“Is everything okay?” You heard Qimir asked again behind you, feeling him walk towards you. You could feel his hands lifting, so when you turned back to face him, they brushed against your stomach. You had to fight back a moan.

“Just, the Jedi thing.” You smiled, hoping you were convincing enough, and he wouldn’t suspect even the theme of your thoughts. Resting your hip against the table and crossing your arms against your chest, you put a leisure expression on your face, as your mind raced with images. “It’s stressing me out.” You unnecessary added, trying to stare anywhere but his face or his arms or his exposed chest. He had to be cold.

“It’ll pass in a few days.” He smirked, lifting his arm to rest it against your shoulder. The cold skin made you gasp but not as much as his dark eyes.

“I just don’t want to bother you here for days.” You tried to convince yourself. “You surely have things to do, and my Master will be waiting for the news. I’ll go after sundown.” You didn’t wanna go but you had to inform your Master and the air between you and Qimir started to be intoxicating if you didn’t do anything.

“I’m sure he already knows.” He cocked his head, pulling his arm away but leaving his fingers to tickle your skin.

“You told him?” you wondered, pushing your thighs together as a small smirk appeared on his smile.

Fuck.

“No,” he denied, his eyes leaving yours, to trace them down your body. “But I’m sure he knows. Maybe he wants you to relax for a while.” He implied. You dropped your gaze from his eyes to his lips, your core slowly heating up.

“I would rather still be sure,” you swallowed your saliva, your voice breaking, his body dangerously close to yours. “Aren’t you cold?” you let out, embarrassment washing over you. He let out a chuckle when he saw your hand awkwardly pointing at his bare chest.

“Not really,” he replied, scanning your expression. He knew you were nervous; he knew your legs were about to give up and how you struggled to pretend to breathe normally. He enjoyed every second of it.

“Good, good.” You uttered, nodding along. “As long as you’re comfortable.” You wanted to fall into some deep hole and never come out.

“Are you comfortable?” he purred, closing the space between you two, his hand lifting to your face but not actually touching you. Just hanging there, below your jaw, right next to your neck.

“Why, why wouldn’t I be.” You stumbled over your words, his eyes burning your skin open. You felt his breath against your face, his curtain bangs brushing over your forehead. His feet met with yours, his chest in front of your face.

“You don’t look the best.” He whispered, leaning in, his lips now touching your ears, sending shivers down your spine. You moved your hand to the counter next to you, praying and holding yourself for dear life. “I think you need to relax.” He teased against your ear, slowly moving to your neck.

“I think I should get ready to go.” You panted, but not moving a muscle. His one hand moved right next to yours on the table, fingertips touching yours. You were so frozen by his lips tickling your neck, you inhaled sharply when you felt his hand sneak behind your waist to pull you against him. Your hands automatically pressed against his chest, closing your eyes.

“If you want,” he rasped, lifting himself to face you. You couldn’t recognize him. His eyes were pitch-black dark, animalistic look set in them. His lips were full and pink, not a sign of the Qimir that you talked to few minutes ago. You were breathless, your heart pounding heart against your ribs.

“Do you want to go?” he whispered, carnal lust in his gaze staring right back at you. You felt the wetness between your legs growing stronger with every passing second. “Do you want me to let you go?”

“No.” you answered so fast you felt ashamed. But what followed fulfilled all your dreams and more.

All the useless items and glasses on table thrown on the floor without any of you touching them, to make a room for you as Qimir lifted you up on the counter. You shakily brought your hands into his hair as he dived into your lips, imitating sex. His hands groped your breasts, fondling them and pinching your nipples through the thin fabric of your borrowed blouse.

You felt his hand abandon your face, making its way between your legs, feeling your wetness through the pants. You were soaked. You didn’t miss the smile on his lips when his fingers pushed against your core, feeling how wet and useless you were for him.

You whimpered against his mouth when he pulled away, resting against your forehead as you breathed each other air.

“For how long you were this wet?” he smirked against your lips, his fingers putting pressure against your pants making you gasp. He knew the answer, he knew exactly what you liked and where you liked it. But he wanted to hear it coming from your mouth.

“Since I first saw you,” you muttered, rolling your hips against his fingers for more friction. As soon as you made that movement, he pulled his fingers away to shoved them inside your mouth. You didn’t protest and without hesitation started to circle your tongue around them. His fingers were thick and long, making you choke when he moved them deeper.

“Such a fucking slut.” He growled, his legs spreading yours apart. Your heart fluttered at his words and confirming its statement when you let out a moan, from his fingers sneaking its way under your pants and panties to find your burning clit. You threw your head back, as your back arched, wanting to feel more of his touch.

Qimir watched you with satisfaction spread on his face as he felt you getting wetter and wetter, your body responding to his digits. He continued teasing your clit, rubbing it in circles as his other hand squeezed your breast roughly.

“You want it that bad?” he murmured, his voice raspy and electrifying. He chuckled at your failed attempt to respond, inserting his finger into your soaked hole. He pumped it slow and deep, reveling in your reaction. “No worries now.” He taunted.

Qimir couldn’t keep the smirk off his face as he watched you squirm and moan. He relished the power he had over you, keeping you in the dark and letting you believe you weren't being humiliated in front of your Master. He added another finger, scissoring them to stretch you for his cock.

“Let me hear you beg for it,” His eyes gleamed with lust as he towered over you, plunging his fingers deeper inside of your cunt. He curled his fingers inside you, rubbing your g-spot as he pumped them faster. “I want to hear you plead for my cock.”

You had no idea Qimir had this in him, but you were so dizzy because of his fingers fucking you hard, you had no strength to focus on anything else.

“Please Qim-“you shivered, eyes rolling back in your head. “Please I need you inside me.” Your breath hitched, his fingers curling and spreading your cunt.

“Atta girl.” He whispered to himself before pulling his fingers out of you, receiving a vulgar insult thrown at him. He relished in seeing you like this. He dreamed of this every day, wanting you, his pupil, spread open in front of him, letting him take you however he wanted. You were his and he was gonna make sure you understood what exactly that meant.

He smirked mischievously before leaning forward to kiss you deeply, wrapping his arms around you tightly. “Once I start, complain all you want, I’m not gonna stop.” He whispered against your lips before breaking away and looking deep into your eyes. He was a totally different man and it made you shiver throughout all your body. Even his energy changed, letting it wrap around you in the Force.

Qimir startled you when his hands landed on your chest, pushing you back so you’d lay open on the counter, legs spread open for him to take. Smiling excitedly, he grabbed your hips and move you closer to the edge of the table, before slowly unbuckling his pants.

“You ready?” he asked, licking his lips before pulling his cock out, already covered in pre-cum. He looked so beautiful above you, his hips so close to yours, his hair falling into his face and his chest raising as fast as yours. You looked a mess, but you were his mess and he wanted to devour you.

Nodding, you made yourself comfortable on the table, its cold surface making you shiver.

Smirking, he positioned his dick at your entrance and slowly thrust himself inside, making sure to stretch you nice and slow, taking his time to make the moment last. He bit back a moan, looking down at you lovingly as you struggled to keep your eyes open and not pass out at his thick cock filling you up.

“You’re doing great so far for me.” He grinned, before pulling out and slamming back in, his movements becoming faster and rougher. You forced yourself to grab the ends of the table to hold yourself in place, Qimir’s grip on your hips being nothing compared to the way he was treating your pussy.

His thrusts became harder, loving the way your walls wrapped around his cock, squeezing him tightly with each thrust.

“You’re finally getting what you dreamed of,” he groaned, lifting your hips to drive his cock deeper before pounding away. “Getting fucked by your Master.”

You cried out when his cock brushed against your sweet spot, not realizing the meaning of his words until seconds later.

“What,” you tried to lift your head up, but the way his grip tightened on your waist to fuck you harder had you failing to catch your breath. Your heart started to pound faster as the realization hits.

He saw your expression change but your body kept replying to his merciless thrusts. His hand moved from your waist to reach for your head, lifting you up, face to face. His forehead was covered in sweat, his long hair curling around his ears.

“You did so well on your last mission, I had to reward you.” He panted, not stopping his assault on your cunt. He read the conflict in your mind, letting you come to your own conclusion.

“You’re,” you trembled, his cock spreading your walls so good you had trouble to even consider the words he was saying, denying yourself.

“You’re such a good apprentice but such a slut now,” he mocked you, his hand moving from your hair to your neck, putting in pressure. “I wished you realized sooner tho. We could’ve had this every little visit of yours.” You cried out as his hand fully wrapped around your neck, his cock never stopping filling your cunt.

“Master, I don’t understand,” you managed to breathe out, feeling his cock start twitching inside your walls. You heard him groan, right next to your ear, at the feeling of your tight hole gripping him. He started to thrust harder, feeling the friction build up.

Resting your foreheads against each other and swallowing each other’s moans, had the both of you sweat, the room picking up your scents.

Qimir reached down, rubbing your clit as he continued to fuck you hard. He could feel the tension building inside of you and knew you were close.

“Cum for me, love.” He growled, his hand never leaving your neck and pulling you closer to him. “Cum for your Master.” He hitched, picking up the pace, slamming into you as hard as he could. He could feel his own orgasm approaching.

His grip on your throat tightened as he fucked you harder and faster, slowly losing control of his strength. He could see the look of pure ecstasy on your face as he pounded into you and squeezed your throat harder. Your hand automatically few to his hand that held you, struggling to breathe but not enough to make you pass out.

“You belong to me,” his voice broke, letting you know he was getting closer and closer to losing it. “You’re mine.” He whimpered into your ear, his hips bucking wildly, driving his cock deep inside of you as he came, filling you up, marking you as his. His paced slowed down to match yours, wanting to feel you cum around him, your walls almost crushing him.

Qimir didn’t move and kept his cock inside you, letting himself and you calm down and try to catch your breath. As you regain your composure, your head against Qimir’s chest, your mind almost exploded with the overwhelming thoughts.

I fucked Qimir.

I fucked my Master.

Qimir was my Master all along.

You wanted to run away, hide yourself and never come out, but Qimir’s, your Master’s arms wrapped around you and your pussy still keeping his cock warm, had you melting, not wanting to move an inch. You were confused, terrified, and thrilled all at the same time. All the times when Qimir disappeared without explanation, all the time he lied to the Jedi or did things only Force sensitive beings could achieve. It all made sense now and clicked together like a puzzle.

But you also realized he had the power to read your thought all along. He could see the impure images, the ideas, and pictures you had in your mind. Your complains and desires. Your fear. But that didn’t matter anymore. You let your Master used you, like the good apprentice you were. You had no idea what would happen now, your heart wanting to jump out of your chest, your skin covered in goosebumps. You were scared but the desire was stronger. And if Qimir ever taught you something was to transform those emotions into power. And you had enough desire to annihilate the entire Jedi order, with Qimir by your side.

[maybankswhore]

BESTFRIENDS GIRLFRIEND.

a ‘mini’ continuation of this fic here!

summary: the night at the beach seemed to be long forgotten. or that’s what you thought until a stupid treasure hunt leads you and jj sharing a place in a locked incubation device and he helps you remember where it all started.

a/n: just recently finished season four & that scene w kiara and jj gave me the perfect idea. i know it doesn’t really ‘match’ the timeline of the last one but we can all pretend that it does <3

warnings: voyeurism , , mean!jj , reader that plays naive , fingering , use of afab anatomy , mentions of cheating , heavy petting.

You should’ve known you were setting yourself up for failure. The minute you saw the slight smirk on JJ’s face the minute you offered to take Kiara’s place— you should’ve known something was going to happen.

Though , almost getting killed and getting your life saved by JJ Maybank was definitely not on your BINGO card.

Things between you and JJ hadn’t settled since that day night. If anything , it only made everything worse.

You were grateful another adventure opened up for the time being because pulling away from John B made you feel sick. You were eaten up by guilt , fear that your dirty little secret would blow up in your face and you’d have to own up to what you’ve done.

You could only imagine the devastation it’d cause John B and the disappointed looks from Kiara and Pope. The idea alone made your stomach sick.

JJ made it impossible to forget. He never brought it up. Not once. But that look in his eyes every time he looked at you made that same familiar feeling from that night on the beach wash up all over again— and you just knew.

You laid there in absolute dread in silence. Your eyes had opened before JJ’s and the immediate feeling of pure terror overcame you. Your memories washed back up and as the bends slowly faded away , the reality of the situation sunk in.

Practically quarantined with JJ , in this closed space , for twelve hours seemed like the test of a lifetime.

As he began to stir away , you swallowed harshly and scooted away. You clutched your necklace , anxiously fiddling with the string as you desperately search for nearby nurses.

“My savior.”

His voice was raspy. A hint of edge around the words as he cleared his throat roughly.

Silence filled the air pretty quickly and JJ’s mouth made a sound. He played it casual , coy like he always did. Cocking his head towards the side , he stared at you. “Ignoring me?”

Again , you decided to stay silent. Your cheek was raw with how hard you were biting it.

JJ sighed. “You know , I’ve been waiting to get you alone since that night on the beach.” He murmured. “A bit offended you actin’ like nothing happened.”

He was baiting you and you knew it. You refused to give and kept staring out the circular window.

“C’mon , Y/N. . .” JJ drug out your name barely above a whisper. You could feel him inching closer making you start to feel hot , your ears burning at the tips. “Have you fucked him yet? After me?”

His question made you flinch.

“Stop playing little miss innocent —” JJ narrowed his eyes , bringing up his index finger to your chin. Everything in you was screaming at you to not make the same mistake twice , to stand your ground , to fight him. . . but you were like putty in his hands. The minute you felt his skin on yours , you felt a fire where he touched and your head tilted ever-so-slightly to the side. “I know you think about it. About me.”

JJ looked into your eyes and paused , before a wide smirk developed on his face. “You haven’t , have you?” You didn’t need to say it , it was written all over your face. You were never good at keeping secrets. You were always so easy to read.

Especially by him.

He knew you like the back of his hand. All that pining had finally paid off— in his mind.

“How come?”

“JJ stop it.” You mumbled , moving to push his hand away. But he didn’t care. Instead he turned on his side to look at you , feeling like the first time all over again.

God , he hadn’t stopped thinking about it. About you.

John B was his bestfriend , his brother , but you— he couldn’t help but be addicted to you. He couldn’t change it and he didn’t want to. He’d risk loosing it all , everything , just to have you.

“You liked it—” he taunted. “You liked it so much , that I ruined your sweet little pussy for anyone else. It only remembers me. It only wants me.”

You shivered and shook your head. “No. I—I love John B. You’re acting crazy.”

“Crazy?” JJ let out a dry laugh. “You should know just how crazy I can be , baby.”

“He’s your bestfriend , JJ.” You sighed and shook your head , pushing his hand that was starting to drift downwards away. “You know this is wrong.”

“I don’t care if it is.” JJ scoffed. “I meant what I said that night. You were supposed to be for me.”

His words made you shiver. The memories crashed onto you like waves , so vividly that you could almost feel exactly how you felt sprawled out on the sand with your legs wide open just for him.

JJ noticed your reaction and smirked. It only pushed him further. “You know it , don’t you?”

You pursed your lips. Pushing your chin up defiantly as you scooted closer to the window , putting as much space between the two of you as possible.

JJ rolled his eyes. “C’mon. You might be able to lie to yourself and lie to John B— but you can’t lie to me, baby.” He murmured softly , delicately. There was a teasing tone to his voice that irritated you because you knew he was right and you hated yourself for it.

“You’re acting crazy , JJ.” You whispered. You squeezed your eyes shut and prayed that this was all a dream— a nightmare. Though the warmth of JJ’s breath and how your heart beat so loudly you thought it’d beat out of your chest , you knew it was real. Too real.

“Maybe I’m just crazy about you.”

Suddenly everything began to feel hot. The all knowing fact that you were trapped in this stupid metal bubble , next to him , it all started feeling too much. Beads of sweat dripped down your forehead , and your hand twitched. Your chest began to rise and fall quickly and you weren’t sure what you were more bothered by.

The claustrophobic , suffocating feeling: or the thump between your thighs that you wouldn’t be able to blame on alcohol.

Light as a feather , his fingertips tapped across the smooth skin of your thigh. He watched you in satisfaction. Loving the way you responded to him despite you trying to fight it. “It’s just you and me in here , baby—” he cooed in your ear. Leaning forward to press a soft kiss to the side of your neck , making your breathing hitch. “Nobody’s gonna know.”

“I–I’ll know.” You answered softly , still refusing to look at him. You hated the way it began to hurt. How it started to burn with a certain need that only JJ could subside. Everything in your body was screaming for him. To feel him again. But your head was fighting it.

“That never stopped you before.” He quipped back.

You turned your head to look at him again. Looking into his eyes that had a certain darkness swimming inside of them. You hated it. You hated him. Most of all , you hated yourself for how badly you wanted him.

Without another thought , becoming slightly delirious and deciding to cave and give in , you rushed forward and pressed your mouth against his. On instinct , he was there. Kissing you back feverishly , gripping onto you like a man starved. He tasted of saltwater and weed , the familiar taste bringing out a soft moan from your throat.

The sound made him smirk. He liked knowing you had given in. That he got what he wanted.

And he was going to make the most of it.

His hand slipped between the two of you , immediately cupping your sex. You gasped , breaking the kiss for air. He hummed in response , rubbing soft and achingly slow circles. “Beg for it.”

“W–What?” You breathed , taken off guard.

“You heard me.” JJ said again , halting his movements. JJ gripped your chin , looking down at you. “Beg me for it.”

“JJ—”

“Beg.”

He wanted to know he had the control. The power. You knew it. As much as you wanted to deny him of it , to refuse it , you couldn’t. It ached agonizingly , just looking at him ignited something within you. Your whole body was on fire and now that it started , there was no way you would have enough willpower to put it out.

“Please. . .” you whimpered , arching your back to feel some type of friction again. JJ wanted to groan right then and there, give in to you. But he refused. He ignored the way his cock was hard and angry , rubbing against the fabric of his underwear harshly. Frowning , you grabbed onto him , fisting his shirt to bring him closer. “Please touch me , JJ. Please. I need it. I need you.”

Your words were like a song to him. He let out a groan deep within his chest and kissed you again , harder , letting his tongue slip past your lips as you gasped when his hand pushed the fabric of your tiny shorts to the side.

His index finger ran up your slit , basking in the slickness. JJ smirked down at you , cocking his head to the side. “Your pussy loves me.” He boasted , and you weren’t in a position to disagree.

“Still my dirty girl , huh?” JJ moaned , sliding his finger inside of you. He grunted as he felt your walls stretch out , the tightness of it amusing him. “I knew I ruined you for him— can’t fuck him now , huh? Too busy thinkin’ bout me?”

You only responded with a moan , throwing your head back as you felt yourself fill up.

JJ watched you with a glimmer in his eyes. He swore had had never seen something hotter. The way your eyebrows scrunched up , your lips pursed , he could your feels contracting around his finger and he couldn’t help but moan at the feeling. “You want more , baby?”

“Yes , JJ , yes. Please. . .”

“Tell me your mine.” He demanded but his voice was softer now. Almost pleading.

Your mind was hazy. You almost couldn’t understand what you were saying— but you knew in this moment it was true. “I’m yours , JJ. I’m yours.”

“Fuck.” He muttered. Dropping his head to kiss your neck , he added in another finger , rutting against the side of your thigh. He pumped his fingers in and out of you , curling upwards just enough to graze over the spot you needed most.

“Yes—” you breathed. Your head lulled to the side and your toes curled. It felt good. The coolness of his metal rings that slapped against your clit each time he pumped his fingers in and out sent jolts up your spine. It felt frivolous , like you were a school girl getting fingered by her first person. But JJ knew just what to do. He knew what you liked , how to make it feel good.

“You’re mine. You’ve always been mine.” JJ said , kissing your mouth. You moaned into it , shaking underneath him as the feeling of his mouth on yours amplified the pleasure you were feeling.

The familiar feelimg began building up in your tummy and you gasped , pulling away as you used him to steady yourself. He sped up , just a little , keeping the same place as before. He cooed in your ear , kissing and sucking on different places. “Cum for me. Cum for me , give it to me.”

With your head thrown back , you felt your legs shaking. A dirty , loud moan left your mouth , one that made JJ’s ears ring. You grinded against him , riding out your high.

“My fucking girl—”

You came down breathlessly , with a new urge. You quickly attached yourself to him , wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing him closer to you. He kissed you back hungrily , grinding into you.

You jumped when you heard a knock on the glass.

“Sorry to um— interrupt.” The nurse cleared her throat awkwardly , looking away. “We need to check your vitals. . .”

And just like that , the weight of the world and your decisions fell back on your shoulders.

[hitomisuzuya]

Imagine having an argument with Wanderer then it ends up with rough sex (with a little of praises here and there)

Wanderer (Scaramouche) x fem!reader. Smut. Fingering. Rough, angry sex. Degradation. Praise.

Don't mind if I do😳

"Oh, watch your step to hell, Scara. It's a long fall," As patient as you were with Wanderer, there were going to be arguments. It's was inevitable given his disposition. You glared at him, shaking a little bit from anger.

"Tch," Wanderer grit his teeth, returning your glare. He smacked a hand on the wall next to your head. "Why must you be so-"

You cut him off. "What? Infuriating? Like you?" Despite his attempt to make you flinch, (which you delighted in not giving him the reaction he wanted), you were determined to stand your ground. He'd stamped on your last nerve and you were going to make sure he heard about it.

Through his anger, Wanderer's body started to burn with desire. Fuck how it made his cock pulse when you talked back to him. He grasped your jaw, squeezing it a little. "You need to be put in your place," He hissed.

"Oh, go ahead. Put me in my place, Scara," You retorted, trying to ignore the weakness already caving in your body. It always made you so weak when he is dominant with you. "I don't break easily."

Wanderer snickered. He knew that was a bold face lie. "You'll break, and when you do, it will be so fucking satisfying," His lips collided with yours in a harsh, possessive kiss.

His hands angrily tore at your at your clothes as he backed you up towards the bed. A smirk started to tug at the corners of his mouth hearing you attempt to swallow a moan, keeping your mouth obediently open for his tongue.

Wanderer was going to relish in that little sign, he knew you would get a second wind of stubbornness. But this would only go one way. He knew exactly how to handle you. "What a good girl, already submitting to me," His eyes were trained on anticipation on your reaction, pushing you down onto his bed.

You felt such a warmth spread through you hearing him praise you. You blushed realizing your panties were wetter than you thought they would be. A moan started to rise in your throat, which you visibly swallowed back (as hard as it was).

Wanderer's eyes hooded into a glare, roughly yanking your panties off, the final annoyance in his way. The garment practically peeled from your pussy, his cock straining harder from the victory of seeing you already so wet. "Weak little slut, so wet already," He taunted, pinching your clit.

A suddenly jolt of pleasure went through you, being further stunned as Wanderer pushed two fingers inside of you. His degradation made your clit throb, your juices soaking his wrist as your walls started to clamp around his fingers.

Your hips jerked up to grind into his fingers as he hooked them into your sweet spot. Your hand clamped over your mouth, his fingers stretching you apart and pumping against your sweet spot sent such shocks of pleasure through you.

His fingers were making you start to come undone, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of moaning for him. You were determined, your legs shaking as your hips rolled into his fingers.

"Stubborn slut, aren't you?" Wanderer growled, increasing the pace of his fingers to see you squirm. You dared to hide your noises from him. "You'll break for me, I promise," He emphasized his last two words, removing his fingers from your sloppy pussy.

He flipped you over onto your stomach, smacking a hand across your ass he pulled your hips up. You bit your lip, a quiet yelp of pleasure betraying you. Wanderer jumped on that like a rapid dog.

His fingers found your clit again, rubbing and teasing it. He watched your body shake with a hint of pride, his cock pulsing as you grinded back against his fingers. You clawed at the sheets.

Wanderer smacked his hand on your ass again. You gripped the sheets tighter as your pussy clenched around nothing. Grasping his cock, he pushed it inside of you, slowly stretching you out until he bottomed out.

His hands found tight purchase on your hips, not giving you any time to adjust before he set an angry, harsh rhythm. His hips smacked into yours, groaning as your pussy clenched like a glove around him.

Pleasure burst wet hot and intense behind your eyes. You pushed your hips back into his thrusts, loud moans starting to tear from your throat. Wanderer grabbed a handful of your hair, yanking your head up. "Is my infuriating cock making you feel good, slut?" He taunted condescendingly in your ear, driving his cock into your sweet spot at a dizzying rate.

You couldn't take it anymore. Your approaching orgasm was just building up so tight. "Yes! Yes it is!" You finally moaned, feeling a small dent to your pride. The feeling was melted away as Wanderer's cock nudged into your sweet spot. It felt so good to finally give into him. "Your cock is making me feel so good!"

Wanderer groaned huskily, cumming from the exhilaration of making you fall apart. He was merciless now, fucking his cum up inside of you, praying the intensity of his thrusts would make it ooze out your pussy. "Good girl," He cooed, letting your hair go, "See, that wasn't so hard now, was it?"

His cock nudged into your sweet spot just right, the knot of your orgasm breaking apart. Wanderer moaned feeling your release soak onto his cock, rubbing your clit to nurse you through your orgasm.

You were whimpering by the time he pulled out, collapsing onto your side, panting on the bed. "You are.. such a jerk," You said somewhat incoherently.

"I know," He chuckled, stroking a hand through your hair.

[aventurineswife]

Can I request the same boys as ur cold reader fic but with a s/o who is haepaphobic (fear of touch) who allows the boys to finally hold them as they've grown confident enough to surpass their fear? Like they just go up to the boi and silently hold their hand, hug them or lay against them. How'd they react?

-🍭

Hold Me Tight

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Dan Heng x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Jing Yuan x Reader, Jiaoqiu x Reader, AE!Sunday x Reader, Comfort, Slow Burn, Overcoming Fear, Emotional Growth, Healing Touch, Gentle Romance, Trust and Vulnerability, Supportive Partner, Quiet Moments. Warnings: Mentions of past trauma (haepaphobia, fear of touch), Light emotional angst.

You’ve been sitting together on the balcony of your shared apartment, the evening air cool against your skin. As always, Aventurine's smile was playful, but there was something in his gaze that softened when he noticed the tension in your body. It had taken time for you to feel comfortable around him, but he had always respected your space. Today, however, something inside you shifted.

You approached him cautiously, heart beating faster than usual, but the air felt different. There was something unspoken between you, a promise, a trust that had taken root. Slowly, you extended your hand towards him. His eyes widened, but the smile that bloomed on his face was warm and reassuring. He didn’t say a word, letting your action speak louder than any reassurance he could give.

When your fingers brushed against his, you felt the subtle electricity of contact. And then, before you could second-guess yourself, you gently clasped his hand. It was a soft, tentative motion, but Aventurine’s reaction was anything but tentative. He leaned forward, the playful glint in his eyes turning to one of deep affection.

"You’ve made a gamble, haven’t you?" he said softly, his voice a comforting mix of teasing and tenderness. "And it seems like it’s paying off."

He didn’t pull away, didn’t hesitate. Instead, he gently squeezed your hand, his warmth grounding you in a way words couldn’t. Aventurine’s confidence was a constant, but in this moment, it was your courage that shone the brightest.

The quiet hum of the Astral Express echoed around you both as you sat next to each other in the quiet of the observation room. Dan Heng had always respected your space—he rarely initiated physical contact, understanding your fear. But tonight was different. The train felt peaceful, almost still, as if the universe had slowed just for you.

Without a word, you gently placed your hand over his, just resting it there. The warmth of his skin against yours was enough to make your heart race. Dan Heng looked down at your hand, his expression unreadable, but you could feel the shift in his energy, the way his calmness seemed to embrace your nerves.

After a long pause, he slowly wrapped his fingers around yours, his grip gentle and careful, as if he didn’t want to overwhelm you. The simple gesture made your chest tighten with a mixture of fear and relief, but it was a fear that slowly melted away under the steadiness of his touch.

“Thank you.” you whispered, though you weren’t sure if you were thanking him or yourself.

Dan Heng’s voice was soft, almost imperceptible. “I’ve been waiting for this moment… waiting for you.”

In the study room filled with towering stacks of books and papers, you’d always been hesitant. Ratio, for all his brilliance and confidence, respected your space as much as anyone could, though you had seen the way his sharp eyes softened when you lingered nearby.

Today, though, there was something in the air that urged you forward. You had been reading a particularly difficult text, and as if drawn by some unseen force, you found yourself standing beside him. You looked up at him, quietly offering your hand. Your pulse quickened as you waited for him to react.

Ratio blinked, his sharp gaze flicking from your hand to your face, a hint of surprise flashing across his features. For a moment, his intellectual mind seemed to process, then slowly, ever so carefully, he placed his hand over yours. He didn’t pull away immediately, as you’d feared, instead his fingers lightly caressed yours.

“You… are bold,” he mused, his voice soft but undeniably earnest. “This… is new. But it is a challenge I will gladly accept, if you will allow me to teach you the art of trust.”

You didn’t respond verbally; instead, you squeezed his hand gently. His expression shifted from one of calculated assessment to a rare, sincere smile.

The vast expanse of the Xianzhou Luofu stretched out beyond you, but you found yourself in the quiet solace of Jing Yuan’s office. He’d always been a calming presence, the kind that never rushed or pushed you to go beyond what you were comfortable with.

Today, you didn’t want to be rushed. You didn’t want to be pushed at all.

Instead, you walked up to him slowly, your hands trembling slightly as you reached out to touch his sleeve. Jing Yuan noticed instantly, his eyes locking with yours. He didn’t move, allowing you the space to decide your next step.

Without warning, you slid your hand down to his, fingers brushing his warm skin. For a moment, you froze, waiting for his reaction. His gaze softened, and a quiet, approving smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Without a word, his hand enveloped yours, large and reassuring.

“You’ve taken a step toward me,” Jing Yuan murmured, his voice low and comforting. “And I’ll take a thousand steps toward you, if that’s what it takes.”

You laid your head on his shoulder then, resting against him. There was no pressure, no judgment—only the shared, unspoken promise that he would never push you past your limits.

The Yaoqing district was quiet, a peaceful kind of stillness that only a place of healing could offer. Jiaoqiu, ever the gentle soul, was focused on preparing his latest concoction, his attention absorbed in the delicate task before him. But you were nervous today—your heart raced in the quiet room as you approached him, feeling the weight of your fear and longing to overcome it.

Jiaoqiu looked up from his work as you silently extended your hand towards him. He didn’t move immediately, sensing your uncertainty. But then, after a moment of quiet deliberation, he slowly took your hand in his.

His touch was soft, tender, like he had all the time in the world for you to overcome this fear. Without words, he pulled you gently closer, allowing you to rest against him. His arms were steady around you, offering a sanctuary of warmth and solace.

“Fear is something you need not face alone,” Jiaoqiu whispered, his voice a balm for your restless soul. “I am here, always.”

The soft rhythm of his heartbeat against yours was enough to soothe the storm in your chest. You didn’t need to say anything more—his presence spoke for everything.

The Astral Express was unusually quiet today, the hum of the train providing a soft background to the stillness that enveloped you. Sunday, as always, sat in his usual contemplative silence. His eyes were locked onto the stars outside the window, but you could tell he had noticed your presence.

It had taken time—months, perhaps longer—but now, you were ready. You could feel the steady confidence that had grown within you. You took a step toward him, your heart racing with anticipation, and gently placed your hand on his shoulder.

He turned to you, his piercing gaze searching your face. For a long moment, he didn’t speak. But then, without hesitation, he lowered his hand to rest on top of yours, his touch both firm and gentle.

“I did not expect this,” he said, a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “But I will accept it, as I accept all things from you.”

His warmth was comforting, though his words carried a tinge of something deeper—something he didn’t often reveal. Slowly, he reached up and cupped your face with both hands, pulling you into a quiet, serene hug. His embrace was surprisingly tender, an unspoken understanding flowing between you both.

“The world is harsh,” Sunday whispered, his voice soft yet resolute. “But with you, perhaps there is another way.”

And in that moment, with your body pressed gently against his, the world outside seemed a little less daunting. You were no longer alone.

[lostinlads]

Floof Attack

Synopsis: Xavier had always been a clingy kitty, one of the perks working from home is that he could always be at your side. But leaving for a few days to attend your friend's wedding had been a mistake. You find your sweet boy out in the garden. With his back turned to you, you try to draw his attention, but he only feels abandoned. How do you deal with a sulking Xavikitty? Well, you don't need any hints. You know exactly where to pet to get a cat purring.

Tags: xavier x afab!reader, MDNI IF YOU ARE A MINOR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED, no use of y/n, smut, porn with little plot, not proofread, guided handjobs, outdoor sex, fluff, use of pet names (kitty, sweet star, darling, sweet boy, my love), pouty xavier, yearning, soft sex, CATBOY!XAVIER, jeremiah and jenna mention

Words: 4.2k

a/n: in light of the new banner and my hyperfixation on catboys i have decided to release fics about them! i hope you enjoy! ive been sitting on these plots since they have been announced so they arent 100% accurate to the cards but they have my own spin on them!

ao3 | Yes, Cat Caretaker master list | kofi

You step out of the cab and as soon as your feet touch the ground you sigh, happily. You're home, finally. After a weekend away for Jenna's wedding you wanted nothing more than to climb onto your couch, stretch out and nap - but not without your loving kitty, Xavier. He had been upset with you leaving for the weekend, not able to bring him along, to the point he nearly stole your suitcase from you to force you to stay. The look on his sad face as you closed the door on him etched into your mind - the slight tremble to his lip, his wide blue eyes glossy, and his fluffy ears sagging as he stood in the living room watching you go. 

Your mutual friend Jeremiah stopping by a few times a day with takeout, so Xavier doesn't burn your house down and to keep him company. Even sending you a few sneakily taken pictures of him napping, curling in on himself, fluffy tail resting over his stomach. It only made you miss him more and more each day, to feel his soft fur under your fingertips, his warm body enveloping you as you sleep, to see him perched on the counter as you make food. It only took you three days to realize how much he took up your life, how every little thing made you think of him. 

But you were finally home, walking up to your front door as the weight in your chest finally lifts. As you make your way inside, noting the stillness of the house as you set your bags by the door. You want to call out to him, but the thought of waking your sleepy kitty stops you in your tracks. 

An hour ago, Jeremiah left, messaging you that he left Xavier on the couch sleep as he left your home. Seeing that he wasn't there, only left you the option to go look for him. You make your way through your small, shared home, looking in all of his usual hang out and nap spots to find nothing. You peek out of your kitchen window, out to your garden. Seeing movement your eyes catch a glimpse of a pair of fluffy ears, and a thick swishing tail. 

Grabbing the small gift bag you brought home for him, you make your way outside. Lush grass under your sandals, birds singing in nearby trees, the scent of flowers filling your senses. Xavier was found crouching by a patch of forget-me-nots, ears flicking back towards you, obviously listening to your footsteps as you approach. You sit behind him on the small bench next to a tree, placing the bag beside you as you watch your sweet kitty. 

"I'm home," Your voice sweet, almost relieved. Xavier's tail swishes and his ears flick back towards you before they fixate themselves forward again. 

''Hmph," He pouts, not taking his eyes from his flowers. Your sulking Xavikitty obviously isn't impressed with your leave, not wanting to even talk to you shows how upset he was for being left home alone. Time to step up your game and hopefully make it up to your sensitive cat boy. 

You reach into the bag at your side, fingers brushing past the dried fish treats, small cat toys, and finally land on the cat wand. You pull it out, slowly in hopes the bell doesn't jingle just yet. Holding it out to his side you pause before you shake it. Watching the sun rays on his creamy white skin, making his light blond hair glow like an angel. The fluff of his ears almost creating a halo around his head. Times like this, you are reminded how blessed you were that he was your companion, having the most beautiful cat person at your side for a lifetime. With a smile you shake the toy, a soft jingle perking his ears high on his head.

"...A bell?" He questions, whipping around fast. His eyes find the toy, then slowly trail up to you making eye contact. His ears droop, a pout set on his pink lips as he looks at you. You take the opportunity to shake the toy again, summoning him closer to you. Luckily it works, Xavier turning more as you lift the toy in the air above his head. You watch him try to catch it, just out of his reach, hands clasping nothing but air as you move it away, closer to you. He follows it, crawling closer to you until you finally let him grasp it. One hand closing around the toy as the other closes around your hand, holding it still long enough for him to slip the wand from it. 

"I'm pretty sure you got what you wanted. Why are you still shaking it?" Pouting as he places the wand at his feet, brows furrowed as he looks into your eyes. His hand never leaves yours, the warmth of his skin on yours already melting your heart, telling you that you're home, that your love is right here. 

"I haven't, actually." You say with a shake of your head, his ears perking back up. "But I'm close to getting it." Taking his hesitation, you slip your hand from his grasp, other hand coming up to his soft ear. Xavier dodges your touch, moving his head to the side as he lets out a shocked gasp. But you reach back, his ear twitching just before your fingers slowly caress his soft fur. He hums, almost as if he's proving a point, leaning gently into your touch. Blush creeping up to his cheeks, painting them a beautiful soft pink as his eyes meet yours again. Shiny blue eyes with gorgeous long eyelashes landing on your face, obvious protest in them as he almost forces himself to still hold a grudge. 

"So you remembered to be gentle with my ears," He pouts once more in an almost whine. Lips pursed, eyebrows scrunched, accusingly. You laugh, rubbing his soft hair, loving your pouty kitty. Though it wasn't often, Xavier could be one of the most pouty, whiny cats you've ever met. Usually after meeting stray cats or occasionally men, coming home and smelling them on your clothes and skin, always huffing with his ears flat to his hair.

Your hand travels back up to his ear, sensitive to the touch as always. Thumb pressing firm against his inner ear, fingers wrapping behind as you stroke up, thick fur slipping between as you make your way back down. Xavier's breath deepens, eyes closing in the sensation of his hypersensitivity. You glide your hand back up to the tip, rubbing the thin flesh between your hand - something that always drove him crazy.

"Why do you keep pushing your luck when you find an opening?" He pants out, breath heavy as he revels in your touch. Dragging your hand down, you cup his cheek. A sweet smile playing on your lips as your thumb swipes along his smooth, soft skin. He leans into you, wanting nothing more than to nuzzle into your warmth - something he has been denied for the entire weekend. As he tries, you pull away, his ears drooping, eyes softening into an almost pathetic plea for you.

"We don't stop halfway when it comes to these things, right?" His own way of begging you to continue, to please and love on him until he gets his fill. You obey with a soft chuckle, hand reaching up to his untouched ear to stroke it. Both twitching at your touch, an instant reaction as your fingers glide over the fur. Slowly, his composure slips, leaning his head against your arm as you brush your nails over him. His hot breath fanning on your skin as he moves his head to match your motions, intensifying the sensation. You watch as your kitty's eyes roll, lids fluttering shut as his lips part, his blush deepening under his pretty eyes. His fluffy tail behind him sways almost on its own in satisfaction.

"Yeah..." He moans out, lids lifting as his lustful gaze meets yours. Your heart pounds in your chest, his hand coming to caress your arm, urging you to continue. "Right there. By my ear..." He pleads, another breathy moan slipping from his lips, shooting right to your core. His head turns, unable to control himself as his rough tongue kitten licks up your forearm, lips placing a gentle kiss to your wrist. Wetness grows between your thighs, seeing him crumble so easily from just a touch made you want to consume him. Have him shake with you, hot bodies pressing together in a way you have missed far too much since leaving him. 

"I think this cat likes other stuff besides bells," The heaviness in your tone couldn't be ignored, a crack in your composure as you slide your hand from his head, fingers gliding over his before they come to rest back on your lap. Ears drooping from loss of contact, he pouts, eyes drift to the ground. Xavier's warm, soft hands come to rest on your thighs, sad blue eyes looking back up to your own.

"But even if I like it..." He pauses, crossing his arms and resting his chin on them, sulking. "I can't forgive you for abandoning me. Not yet." Oh, how you wanted to scoop him up in your arms, kiss him until he was drunk, watch his face flush a deep pink. Your sweet boy still feeling hurt from your small trip, engraving in your mind that you will never leave him again.

You reach out, cupping his chin with all the love you have in you. His ears twitch once before standing high on his head, his big blue ragdoll eyes widen at the gentle touch. His plush tail swaying lazily behind him, showing how much he loved the attention.

"Then can you tell me what's the best way to comfort my cat?" You ask, voice silky and warm. Thumb sliding up, pushing his top lip so you can see his beloved canine teeth, a shocked gasp leaving his open mouth. Your kitty never being one to show aggression, but you wouldn't have minded a bite or two to ease his satisfaction.

"Not like this," He whispers, head falling as he mopes. Eyes laying back to the ground again as his ears fall, tail drooping behind him on the soft, lush grass, his face moving just out of touch.

You reach out again, fingers scratching under his chin. Nails grazing his skin, his eyes flutter closed at the comforting gesture, something he is all too familiar with. Soft swishing of his tail swaying faster in the grass as he leans into your touch for just a moment.

"Mmm, it's nice..." Xavier hums, almost appraising what you have to offer. "But this isn't what I'm looking for." More confidence leaks out of your usual soft-spoken kitty. He quickly grasps your hand, pulling it off of his chin, pressing your fingers to the base of his throat.

"You're good at dealing with your kitty," He rises from his sunken position, up onto his knees. Your lover's hand slowly guides yours to his clothed chest. "You don't need any hints, right?" Under your touch you could feel his heartbeat as you pass, quick and pounding in his chest. His breath quickening as you stop right between his ribs, clothed flesh brushing against your open hand as he heaves. You know what he wants, you can sense it in every way, from his voice to his touch, to the way his eyes land on you. But he also knows better, to use his words like a good kitty, ask you directly for what he wants - he knows you would always give in. So, since he refuses to speak, you scratch his chest, a low purr vibrating in his throat as your nails rake over him. He pants out, head lulling forward for just a moment before you look up at him. Face blazed in pink blush, blue eyes half lidded and glossy - so fucking needy.

"I guess you know exactly where to pet to get a cat purring, huh?" Xavier stands, using the tree beside both of you to steady himself as his large frame looms over you, He continues to trace your hand down his body, stopping at the waist of his pants, just your fingertips making contact now. You look up at his breathtaking face, his thin eyebrows knitting together in frustration, a famous pout on his kissable lips. He lifts his chin, cocking his head to the side as he waits, expectantly. "Why not try here?" He wastes no time placing your hand on the crotch of his pants, an obvious bulge in your hand as you cup it. 

"Xavier," Your brows knitting together as you try your best to sound stern. His ears falter for just a moment, his big ragdoll eyes widening in worry of being punished. "We talked about you using your words. Tell me." You coo, thumbing over his erection. He takes a moment, shivering under your touch as he lets out a shaky breath. 

"Please..." He begs, fingers tightening around your wrist, urging you to touch him. "Please love me..." His words coming out in an almost a cry, every emotion from the past weekend crashing through him as he pours his heart out to you in those simple three words. And how could you possibly resist, from the way he spoke to the sad look on his perfect face. You let your free hand slip up under his cotton shirt, fingers dusting over his abs as your other hand curled under the waist band of his sweatpants. He helps you tug them down, a painfully large bulge emerging face to face with you as it tents his boxers. Always needy, always for you. 

You take a moment to admire him, something you had been denied all weekend but wanted more than life itself. Eyes trailing from the milky skin of his exposed stomach to the tuft of dark blond hair that trailed under the band of his boxers. If he hadn't needed your touch so urgently, you would've taken the time to run your fingers down it, placing lazy kisses from his navel to his pelvis on the slow mornings you usually shared. But from his hot flesh under your skin you could feel that there was no time, that you two had so much to say that didn't involve words. Curling your fingers under the waistband of his boxers you hear him suck in a breath. No matter how many times the two of you made love, every single gesture from you stole his breath away, just like how one look from him could do the same to you. 

"Please..." His voice almost inaudible now, bottom lip quivering as you look up at him. You don't waste time, pulling down his boxers and setting him free, springing to life in front of your face.

"Oh, my sweet star," You coo, watching him twitch under your gaze, the pink tip leaking. With a whimper, he guided your hand to him, wrapping your fingers around the base of his already pulsing cock, soft bush of groomed hair tickling your flesh. Xavier lets out a gasp, a deep rumble of a purr humming in his chest as his eyes flutter shut from the contact. Here he was, your sweet kitty, right in front of you trembling under your touch. God how you have missed this, you didn't know how only three days would drive you mad without him by your side. But here he was, huffing as you slowly slide your hand from base to tip as his hold on you loosens. 

You swipe your thumb over his sensitive tip, watching the shiver ripple over him, whimpering as his eyes squeeze even more closed. The juices helping you slip your hand back down with ease, slick enough for you to pick up pace and not need to worry about too much friction. The soft schlick every time you passed over his head making your thighs tremble, already so spent for you. It made you wonder how much it took to control himself while you were away, seeing the frustration on his face every time Jeremiah came to the door instead of you. 

Xavier dragged his hand up your arm, fingers dusting your skin as they came to rest on your bicep, feeling your flexing muscle as you work him. The rumbling of his purring a steady hum surrounding you, broken up with small moans floating from his slacked jaw. You take the opportunity to delicately run your nails down the contours of his abs, drawing a lovely hiss from him that swarmed around your brain. His fingers tightening around your bicep for just a moment, a warning, before loosening once more. You see the faint red marks bloom on his pale skin, the way it moves with every heavy breath that graces his lungs. His cock jumping in your hand, telling you that he needed more, that he needed to cum just for you. Leaning in you place a kiss to your markings, lips barely touching before he cries out, hips thrusting into your hand, face bumping into his stomach. 

You hum against him, the vibrations coaxing another whimper from him as his hand clasps on your wrist again, holding it still as he fucks himself into it. The growing slick in your palm only showing how close he was to release, not like the vein throbbing at a steady pace couldn't give him away. Xavier chokes out another cry above you, hips stuttering before they stop completely.

"M-more," Eyes opening as he begs you. You don't have the option to ask what more he needs, his hand lifts from your wrist as he pulls you to your feet, not letting you catch your balance before he crashes his lips onto you. The hunger, want, and longing that has been festering inside of him explodes on your senses as his lips fight against yours, sloppy and out of rhythm. He pushes you a few steps back, against the tree that shaded you from the sun hanging above. The feeling of the rough bark against your back, and his attack on your no doubt swollen lips only made every small sensation heighten. His soft, fuzzy tail swishing, brushing your ankle, the slight breeze kissing your heated skin. His hands running down your body, gripping you by your hips before grinding himself onto you. It all felt so much but yet not enough at the same time. 

"I need you, Xavier," You breathe out as you break the kiss, huffing, your breath fanning over his face. Not wasting any time, he pulls the hem of your dress up and pushes your panties to the side, his lips latching onto anything it can find in a rushed sense of need - finding your neck. He hums against you as his long fingers swipe up your slit, finding how wet warm you were, your body telling him how needy you were for him in return. Eyes widening as you gasp out, hands clutching onto his shoulders as one of his fingers eases its way inside - pumping once, twice, before a second is added.

"Mmm, missed you so much..." The confession tugging at your heart, his delicate voice a harsh contrast compared to what his body was doing to you. A moan bubbling from your throat, the feeling of his fingers curling to your sensitive spot deep inside made you clutch onto him more.

Xavier pulled his fingers from you, leaving you whimpering and clenching around air. The empty feeling inside of you didn't last long, his still leaking cock slipped through your folds and into you, making your brain buzz from how full you felt. Xavier had always been big, filling you to the brim and hitting all of the best spots inside, but something felt different this time. Maybe because how close he had been before pulling you away, or maybe it's the passion that bound you two together, but the feeling of him inside of you, twitching against your walls, only made you want him more. 

"Feel so good, Xavi," You praise, feeling his ear twitch against your cheek like a passing kiss. His long tail curled around your ankle, lifting your leg to tell you silently to move. You oblige, hooking it over his hip, sending his cock that much deeper inside you, making you toss your head back against the rough tree. He purrs, deep and rumbling, feeling it through his back as you hook your arms around his neck in a desperate attempt to be as close to him as possible.

Hips pulling back for just a moment, almost entirely out of you, then he snapped them back. Breathy moans fill your ears as he thrusts again, hot kisses trailing from your throat, up your neck, dancing over your cheek, and crashing back onto yours - spit wetting your skin in its wake. You allow him, swallowing his moans in your mouth, tongue lapping at his own, fingers threading through his feather soft locks. Nothing but love and longing shared between you, every touch pushing each other towards that delicious edge as he continued his fervent thrusts into you, soaking your thighs and his with your love. 

The passion almost became too much for him as his hands gripped you tighter, desperate to confirm you were here with him again, that you were dancing this same old dance you have done hundreds of times before. He needed you, even now he needed more of you until you were the only thing that consumed him, the passion burning on his fingertips as he traced them up your bare thighs, over your panty clad hips, and onto your waist. He pushed you back towards the tree, the bark scratching at your bare ass cheeks but you didn't care, the only thing in the world that mattered held you there. 

"Wanna cum in you," Lips brushing yours as he barely pulled back enough to speak, breath mingling with yours as you both pant for air. Who were you to deny your kitty that? The tight coil wound so much in your stomach you almost released at that, imagining being filled with his seed, and eventually with a swollen stomach from his litter.

"Mmm, want to put your babies in me, Kitty?" You tease, barely, not having enough in you to lighten your tone. His hips snap, cock pushing against that mouthwatering spot inside of you, making you arch your back and moan into his open mouth, eyes fluttering closed. Xavier purrs louder, hair and ears brushing against you as you feel him nodding fast.

"Please," Voice high and whiny as his hips begin to grow sloppy, his movements stuttering for a moment before he continues. "Please let me fill you, darling. Please!" He cries, burying his face into your neck once more, damp forehead against your sweaty shoulder. Your fingers tug softly at his roots, so fucking close to that edge you could see off of it, one small step and you would be flying through the air.

"Fuck..." Moaning, you arch your back off of the tree once more. "Cum in me Xavier, give it to me!" You cry, the last of your self control leaving as you shake around him, sex pulsing on his cock as you release. 

His isn't far behind, you feel him twitch as the first rope coats your walls, a mewl muffled against your skin as his body shudders. Xavier empties himself entirely in you, seed dripping from your cunt as his cock softens inside, making a mess of both your legs and panties. Chests bumping together with every breath as you two attempt to control your rapid, speeding hearts. His hands never leave you, only softening his hold to a gentle caress, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your silky skin.

Xavier is the first to speak, saying your name so quietly you almost didn't hear him over the roar of your heart in your ears.

"Yes, my sweet boy?" Breathy, but calming, you brush your fingers through his hair, not forgetting to give a soft scratch behind his ear, rewarding your good boy.

"Please don't leave me again," You could almost cry at how helpless he sounds, how much this hurt him. With gentle hands, you cup his hot cheeks, pulling his face in front of yours so you can meet the most beautiful eyes you have ever seen. Glossy and wide, so beautiful yet fucked out at the same time. Placing a soft kiss to the tip of his pink nose, you smile, the corners of your lips pulling up.

"I'll never leave you again, my love." You promise, and mean it. Nothing should tear you apart again, he was so much more than your cat boy, he was your lover, your partner for life and you wanted nothing more than to have this man by your side forever. His features soften, the swishing tail behind him brushing at your still raised leg.

"I love you," He breathes, almost relieved at your words. A chuckle bubbling from your chest as you lay your damp forehead against his.

"And I love you, my kitty."

[freshbakedbreadstick]

The Physicalities of Grief - Season 2 Arcane Viktor x F!Reader

Season 2 Arcane Viktor x F!Reader

Summary (SPOILERS): It's hard to grieve someone when their not really gone.

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of the content. HEAVY SPOILERS OF SEASON 2 ACT 1 OF ARCANE!! BE WARNED! Reader is described as having a vagina and uses she/her pronouns. Reader’s backstory is kept vague but is mentioned to be from Zaun (the Undercity), worked with Jayce and Viktor, and was childhood friends with Viktor. Mentions of masturbation, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, heavy grief, angst (not a breadstick fanfic if there isn’t angst), bad coping with grief and emotions, grief horniness LMAO, spoilers, brief fear that someone broke into your place, slightly improper use of his powers (not really use tho more like hinting at it), brief mention of vomiting but not in detail (!!), this is basically shameless PWLP (porn with little plot) that i'm using to cope ok? 

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: Unfortunately i am using Arcane Season 2 as a form of escapism bc i am not ok (context , i live in the US and i am a woman of color , , , , enough said ) anyways i am a Viktor stan and i love him SO SO SO much anyways AS PROMISE HERE IT IS ! LMAO i can't wait for act 2 to come out ! ! ! ! ENJOY ! (awhhh doesnt he look so normal in season 1 ?)

It feels like all you have ever known was this feeling.

This feeling of… swelling and crashing waves of anger and sadness. Of overwhelming crying screams, of bubbling tears that blind you, of aching emptiness that makes your joints feel sore and body retch after every meal.

Mel had to remind you that you were grieving, but you could see the way Jayce looked at her, shaking his head softly when she spoke. 

“He isn’t dead,” he would whisper once Mel would leave, but you could only weakly utter “Then why does it feel like he is?”

He never knew what to say to that, just stepping back, face falling. 

It was ridiculous at this point, the way he looked at you with… almost pity. You were sick of it. Everytime he came to you, updating you on the latest findings while you laid in bed, pathetically. Feeling like a waste as he went from spending hours in the lab, working beside his friend’s body encased in who knows what, to desperately fighting you to get you to eat something, anything.  

You felt like a burden, like a waste of a mind and body that was once so ambitious and passionate, moving around the lab to help with whatever you could get your hands on.

“I’m useless,” you would whisper to yourself in the cover of dark, chest empty and eyes red and dry. 

But his words… his words hurt the most. 

“Please eat something, anything!” He cried, trying to ever so gently pin your arms down as he lifted a small cup of soup to your face. 

“No Jayce, no! Stop it!” You cried, barely able to flail against him. 

“I need you to eat something, please! You can't keep going on like this!” His voice cracked. 

You pushed his hands away, successfully hitting the cup and making it clatter and crash to the floor. 

Both of you flinched, pausing mid movement to hear the sound of the porcelain shattering into millions of pieces. 

Stillness for a few seconds. Peace from him for a few seconds. 

Until his voice brought you back. 

“...Viktor would've wanted you to eat… to keep going…” 

It made your eyes burn, chest tightening, throat closing. It made your heart race, limbs suddenly energized for the first time in days, feeling ready to run marathons. 

Did Viktor feel this way the first time he touched the hexcore?

You shoved him away with surprising strength, making Jayce yell and fall to the ground, his arm moving up to shield himself. 

Leaping from bed, you yanked the sheets around yourself, heavy and dark fabric covering the weakness of your flesh from sight. 

“You have no idea what he would've wanted!” Your throat burned as you screamed, lips twisted into a sneer as you glared at him on the floor.

He couldn't even bear to look at you. Coward.

Paled hands moved to claw at your bedside table, yanking the drawers open. You yanked things out, throwing them to find it. Where is it?

Where is it? Where is it? Where is it?

Then you felt it. Soft beneath your fingertips, the embroidered ‘V' he asked you to add onto it scratching your skin ever so slightly. It made you pause, mind rushing and mouth rushing even faster.

“Better yet, you knew what he wanted and still went against him!” Your voice quivered as you yelled at Jayce.

Jayce gasped softly, head jerking back. 

“W-what friend you are,” You stuttered, tears rushing back into your eyes and making your voice sound watery. You felt stupid. 

Jayce’s breath hitched, his mouth opened to respond but you were too quick. You grasped the red fabric into your hands and rushed off, snatching your shoes on before you ran out the door with a choked sob, Jayce yelling out your name as you did so. 

Your body ached as you ran, running into corners and slamming into walls you didn’t sense as you rounded hallways. Your body feverish, only shivered when you stepped out into the chill of the quiet darkness of the supposed city of progress.

Your lungs ached as you ran, panting and gasping between cries. You ran and ran, stumbling and nearly collapsing as you made your descent.

Down, down, down… to the city you knew too well. 

Back home. 

You tucked the blanket closer as you rounded corners with ease, effortless as you hopped over piles of trash and twisted into darkened alleys, avoiding the sounds of twisted laughs and growls. 

You nearly ran into the door of your little old home, scratching at your neck to yank the necklace into the light of the partially broken street lamps. A trembling hand shoved the key into the lock, tugging yourself to press your cheek against the cold door with a hiss. 

It was hard to tell what you were doing in the darkness of the studio, staggering as you closed the door and moved around, getting bruises as you ran into old furniture and beat up tables. You cried out, howling in pain as you made your way toward your bed, hidden in the back of the room. 

One hand reached out, feeling the end of the furniture with heavy pants, eyes wide and barely able to make it out. But it was there, sturdy and reliable, the scent of comfort, of home, reaching your nose as you collapsed onto it, bursting out in wails.

The bed creaked as your body shook, the utter power of your lament echoing in the darkness of the room, red fabric clutched to your chest. 

You could smell him, smell the mixture of coffee, toast, and the unmistakable scent of the lab. 

You cried louder, rattling the windows with each sound as you held the fabric he used to tie his tie, nose buried into it. But it did nothing to muffle you, nothing to withhold the sounds of your cries. 

It felt like days passed before you passed out, falling unconscious without a second thought. 

But when you finally woke, it was dark again. 

Body aching, you sat up in with a heaved breath, wincing at the pain that echoed throughout your being. It was hardly bearable, making you sigh as you realized that you finally did it, you pushed yourself too much and rendered yourself alone, sleeping the day away.

You felt like a ghost skirting around your home, blanket clutched around your form and hand clutching the red fabric to your chest with paled knuckles. Feet made soft sounds as you stomped, using all your strength to collapse onto the sink, holding onto the ledge as you stretched, one hand opening the tap and lips greedily sucking in the water that came down.

You knew that you would probably regret this later, Zaun’s tap water was not meant to be drunk without extra precautions made to ensure it was clean. Afterall, this wasn’t Piltover, where you could drink fresh water from the tap without worry. 

You remembered the way your mother would have to boil it over the fire as a child, wincing as you drank the warm water after running circles around your childhood best friend, who would laugh and watch with a sad glint in his eyes as you did so. All you wanted was fresh, cold water after sweating, throat scratchy and knees scraped with a wonder only a child could possess. 

It made you want to cry again, as your familiar scratchy throat was soothed by the cool water, if only temporarily. 

Your hand barely had the strength to push the faucet shut, slipping onto your knees soon after. 

The fabric pressed against your nose, darkening under the tears that slipped and hit it on its way down your cheeks. Burnt toast… coffee… metal. Burnt toast, coffee, metal. Burnt toast, coffee, metal, Jayce. Burnt toast, coffee, metal, Jayce, you. 

You crawled back into bed, grunting and groaning as your limbs screamed, desperate for you to stop and give up. ‘Forget it, you're alone now’ they said, desperate for a break. 

“Just… let me get to the bed… please,” you heard your gravely voice whisper out, begging yourself.

“...I’ll quit once I get to bed… please…”

‘Fine,’ you told yourself. 

Crumpled there on the sheets, you encased yourself with the blanket like a body laid to rest among the flowers, eyes closed and breathing getting slower. You could hear chatter from just beyond the walls, the sound of people chattering before rushing off, the occasional argument either followed by commotion or silence. It soothed you like a lullaby, as it soothed all children of the undercity. 

But as a fight breaks out nearby, harsh voices echoing the sounds of punches, you squeezed your eyes shut and tried desperately to think of something else. 

Like the day he convinced you to go with him to Piltover.

“Come with me,” he whispered, hand extended out to you, amber eyes glinting with hope for what this opportunity would bring.

“Oh Viktor,” you whispered aloud, voice breaking just like in the memory.

“Please,” he said, brows creasing. 

“But will I fit in? Will they accept me?” you murmured, holding your own hand, looking between his hand to his eyes.

“They accept me,” he breathed.

“That’s because you are a scientist.”

He scoffed, “Do not reduce yourself to utility, regardless of where you come from, you deserve to live amongst them.”

“But they will stare at me like… like I'm trash.”

“Nothing we aren’t used to already… besides… I need you there.”

Your breath hitched.

“You do?” you whispered to yourself, hand clutched to the fabric rising to press it against your nose again. 

Eyelids softened as you thought of the way he smiled, chuckling softly at your bewildered face, smooth voice like melody that made goosebumps spread across your skin as he said, “Of course I need you…”

You didn’t even realize your free hand had inched its way down your torso until your fingertips hit the waistband of your bottoms, making you freeze up, eyes snapping open to stare into the inky darkness.

You panted, chest rising and falling. 

“No…” you whispered, “N-no, no I… I can't.”

“Of course you can,” his voice echoed in your brain, smooth as a ray of sunlight, “Whatever it is you're worried about, I'll help you.”

Finally, your hand fell into his. He pulled you close, so close, that his eyes flickering onto yours felt like it had replaced the sun and the moon, “Come with me.”

Trembling, your hand pushed under the waistband and under your undergarments, fingers tracing over your mound before dipping down to the unabashed wetness of your core. 

You gasped, chest tightening. 

“No,” you whispered into the fabric. 

Burnt toast, coffee, metal.

Your fingers glided down, hips rising and legs spreading, skin so so hot under your touch. With a smooth swipe, the wetness gathered itself on your fingertip, moving to ever so gently press against your throbbing clit.

It made you whine, voice muffled by the fabric held tight against your hand. 

“No please…” you whispered once more, your resolve slipping as you thought of those amber eyes and how they glistened when he spoke about his work.

“C-can’t…” you just couldn’t bear it.

This was your childhood friend you were imagining, your friend who cared so deeply about you that he was willing to take you with him when he got a new opportunity in Piltover. Your friend who sacrificed his health for the sake of finding new tech to help people like you, who weren’t given a fair chance in the undercity. Your friend whose gaze would transfix on you as he explained what he was doing, voice tinged with an eagerness that made him whine when he thought your mind was straying from his words. 

“Darling, are you listening to me?” he would say as you played with some geared models he set out for you to see.

“Yes Viktor, I swear!” 

He would always chuckle and nod, either continuing to explain or instead staying silent, moving to stand behind you.

Your knees and mouth fell open, eyes fluttering shut.

Burnt toast, coffee, metal.

Heavy pants filled the silence of the room. 

You could almost feel the way his hand would slide over yours as you played with the model, long nimble fingers gliding over your skin. 

You would gasp, hand stilling until he began to move it, guiding it with his own.“Here, let me show you… This is how you use it,” he would murmur, warm breath hitting your skin. It was so hard to suppress the shiver he gave you, no longer able to focus on the way he would turn the model the other way, guiding your fingers to press against a gear, turning it in a slow circle to get it working.

Your breathing hitched, hand moving in the way he showed you how. 

His hand would speed up, moving away to let you try it. The gears then began to move on their own, prompting you to move your own hand away, watching the model with an excited smile.

The swelling pleasure in your belly grew, making the smooth movements of your hand become erratic, unable to keep a steady pace. 

“V-Viktor,” you breathed, hips bucking into the air. 

You could imagine it, the way he spoke so smoothly to you, an air of calm to it as if he was speaking to a frightened animal, “Yes, my darling?”

“L-like this?” you croaked, fingers dipping to press against your sopping hole, feeling it drool onto your fingers. 

“Yes, exactly like that… you're doing so good…”

Your breaths grew more and more ragged, shivering as you chased your climax. It was so close, making your head fall back onto the sheets, fabric clutched to your nose, using it to run it up and down your body.

Burnt toast, coffee, metal.

“S-so… close…” you whispered. 

Then you heard it.

A whisper.

You stilled, eyes snapping open and wide in terror. 

You didn’t breathe, you didn’t move. 

‘Go to her’, it whispered once more, a feminine voice you couldn’t make out, too low for you to distinguish.

But you could hear staggered steps, moving. 

You knew you were hidden from view, allowing you an advantage, but this person was moving toward you, slowly but steadily.

You were frozen in place.

Did they come to rob you? Had you even locked your front door when you came in?

But you had no time to think, you were sitting here unarmed and vulnerable. 

Gathering yourself, you sat up in bed, careful to avoid making noise as you peaked above the furniture that hid you, seeing a cloaked figure moving in the dark. You saw nothing, just them staggering. They didn’t seem to be here to steal, brushing past your things without a second glance. 

You prayed to anyone who could hear you that it was just some weary soul needing to rest.

But right before you looked away, you saw it. 

You saw the glow.

A faint blue-purple glow of footsteps that led toward you. 

You swallowed, curling back and into yourself as your eyes trailed the faint humming glow of these footsteps, the way they led right to the foot of your bed. 

The cloaked and hooded figure approached, moving around what hid you to stand at the edge of your bed, looking right at you. 

Then you smelled it. 

Burnt toast, coffee, metal, and… something… more.

Your breath hitched as a bony hand reached up and out, moving toward your face.

You flinched, squeezing your eyes shut as it moved. You didn't see the way it hesitated, pausing right before the warmth of your cheek.

“My darling…” They whispered, voice rumbling in a way that made your eyes snap open and body instantly and unconsciously sag, “Am i that scary?” 

You gasped, shaking as you made out the iridescent eyes that traced over your sunken cheeks and eyes with dark bags underneath. 

“Oh my darling…” he murmured, fingertips finally pressing against your cheeks. 

He was cold, but somehow warmth thrummed through him like… machinery. 

His thumb traced underneath your eye, gently, “Have you been suffering because… of me?” 

You said nothing, pinned to the spot underneath his gaze. 

You tried to say something, but nothing came out. Your mouth only opened and closed, silence emitting from it instead. 

His gaze swept over you, making a shiver go down your spine as you sat there. His gaze stilled, eyes widening ever so slightly as he followed your hands. He paused and, after a beat of silence, he spoke up.

“Here… let me show you.” 

Burnt toast, coffee, metal, and something indescribable. 

The hand cupping your cheeks trailed down to your jaw, tilting it upward to look at him as he shifted to sit in front of you, the overwhelming scent of Him invading your senses.

His other hand moved, gently wrapping itself around your wrist, feeling the warmth of your skin underneath his own. He then slid in, over and down underneath the waistband of your clothes and to your soaked fingers.

You could only stare into the pools of opal that peered into your soul.

A gasp wormed its way out of your mouth as his fingers pressed against you, index tracing around your throbbing clit to your clenching hole. He moved in circles, teasing you by pressing his longest finger just against your entrance before pulling back, moving to press a tiny bit deeper with every movement.

You felt yourself instantly relax, unable to help yourself as the familiar face of Viktor stared at you, eyes softening as he saw the panic melt away. 

“V-Viktor i…” you breathed, “You… d-” 

“I'm supposed to be dead… I know…” he whispered. 

His finger pressed in, making you groan softly as it moved against your warm walls, carefully pressing to find that spongy bit inside of you. He was always so calculated, even now as his gaze focused on your face, tracking every miniscule movement like the way your pupils dilated when you saw him, the way your breathing picked up when his thumb brushed against your clit, and the way your lips parted when his fingers curled. 

“But I'm here now, my darling… you don't have to worry anymore… I just want you to come back with me.”

His voice made your eyes struggle to keep open, soft moans filling the once empty room. You were drunk off him, drunk off the way his fingers moved so deliciously deliberate, stimulating you in multiple ways and making you melt. 

“Viktor…?” you sighed, barely registering what he said. 

“Yes?” Viktor whispered, leaning to press his forehead against your own. 

It sent a shockwave of pleasure through your body, tingling with a purple glow over your skin. 

“I…” gasping for air was all you could do, the overwhelming sensation flowing through your veins as his thumb pressed against your clit, fingers curling in and out of you. You were so close again.

“More?” He murmured, voice soft. 

Your eyes could barely hold his gaze, “N-need you…” 

“Like I always needed you?” 

You moaned out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you shook, the pleasure reaching its peak. 

“Cum for me… come with me.” he murmured, lips brushing against your own. 

He swallowed your moans as you cried out his name, body shaking. His hand on your jaw held you in place, continuing to move his fingers in you and on your clit, your hand wrapped around his wrist as he did so, the other still clutched onto his red tie. 

Pure, white, hot, pleasure stole your vision and voice, making you see visions of a future where you and your people would never have to suffer anymore, not with someone like Viktor to lead them. 

As you came down, body heaving and shaking, he carefully moved his hand off your core before wrapping your weak body with his lapis blue cloak, pressing you against him. Your head lolled, slotting against his neck, smelling the scent of burnt toast, coffee, metal, and something… something otherworldly. 

“Come with me.” He whispered, “I need you.”

“I will.” You whispered, this time not hesitating. 

[affableramen]

when you slap them

hurt/comfort, established relationship

Wriothesley, Tartaglia, Neuvillette, Pantalone, Ayato, Capitano, Dottore, Alhaitham, Kazuha, Dainsleif, Baizhu

Wriothesley

At first shocked, Wriothesley slowly turns his face towards you. There is an apologetic expression in his eyes. His pride dies out before he admits nonchalantly:

“Fine, I deserved that.”

He leaves you temporarily, assuming that you’d like to not see him for a while. He doesn't know if there’s anything needs to be said.

Tartaglia

“Ow”, he says, dramatically, before turning to face you. His cheek is burning pale crimson, while you’re staring daggers at him.

Tartaglia rubs his wounded face, though his pride is no less wounded, but he is about to forget his pride for a while.

“I mean—okay— I might be a dork. But easy, easy on me!”

Neuvillette

The judge is very principal about what he touches and what touches him, and when you deliver that ruthless slap, that seems to ground him, Neuvillette only sighs exhaustively.

“I predicted that you would disagree. You should know, the thought of misunderstanding with you plagues me enormously. But seeing you ground me like this—I must have said something really abominable.”

Neuvillette doesn't even touch the reddened cheek, he wears your mark on him proudly and unconditionally.

Pantalone

His head is thrown to side as you deliver a harsh slap with dry expression on your face and dreadful precision of your target. In normal occasion, in a flirty interaction between you two, as in pre-relationship, dragging you through his taunting Pantalone would have simply chuckled and stood selfishly with a smug smirk. Yet the circumstances are different now, and his attitude changes as well. He places his gloved hand on his cheek, his eyes shut.

“Of course you would do that”, he gives you a look full of hesitation and apology, but does not say the apology itself outloud. “An amiable little reaction you have.” He walks away, preparing himself to bear with a little crimson mark on his cheek for a while. His face buried into the paperwork as much as possible to prevent his employees from unnecessary curious questions.

Ayato

Ayato lets out a tiny gasp at the slap, which does not guilt you into pitying him, since he has done quite wrong and coldly.

“We shall discuss it later, at the dinner perhaps.” He gives you one last look, full of calculation as he tries to find a hint of frustration in your face, but only finds anger. He bows to you with pristine elegance and retreats to his chambers.

Capitano

“What is the meaning of this, woman?!” You wanted to slap him but the attempt did not go as smoothly as you’d like; Capitano’s thick skin is hard to the touch and your hand appears bruised upon attacking him. Of course he is so strong, almost invincible, you can't even bring justice to him without hurting yourself.

“If you just wanted to call me out, you could speak with your words”, he looks at you, wincing slightly. “But I must admit, the hit was good enough to make me feel punished.”

Dottore

Dottore catches your hand before you can deliver the slap, but you slap him with another one. Loudly gasping, Dottore expresses his utter resentment.

“So bold, little brat. I don't know if I should feel sorry or impressed by your audacity.”

Dottore rubs his cheek with annoyance, not admitting his fault just yet, but muttering a curse under his breath.

“Fuck, it stings.”

Alhaitham

You are the last person he’d expect to be hit by, however the motivation of your doing is clear for the both of you.

“Fine. Shouldn't have said so, shouldn’t have”, Alhaitham raises his apologetic, ashamed eyes and finds you walking away. “But don’t go now. I insist you talk to me first.”

Kazuha

Kazuha’s cheek is reddened upon your slap and he bears with the sting nobly. For a few seconds he doesn't say anything, giving the heated ambience between you two way to cool down.

You sigh heavily, realising how rarely it is you are tempted to punish him. The misunderstandings between you are not a regular occurrence, but even such amiable man like Kazuha may be insufferable sometimes. 

“Look, I’m sorry. Okay?” He takes just one step towards you, his face calm but soft at the same time. “Whenever you are unhappy with my decisions, let’s talk them out. No violence next time.”

Dainsleif

He grits his teeth and groans. Dainsleif is not used to be shown disobedience, more so — having been humiliated like this. He felt fury bubbling inside him, almost like lava rushing through his veins. He wants to grab you by your neck and make you fall on your knees, not even dreaming of putting him into inferior position like that. But Dainsleif suffers and lets his anger subside.

“Don’t start something you don’t know consequences of.”

You give him one more irritated look and leave, Dainsleif slowly coming to realisation that, perhaps, he indeed said something too stupid.

Baizhu

A silent groan escapes pharmacist’s lips as you slap him over the conflict. He touches his cheek, giving you nothing but regretful look. The look is full of apology and insult, even. In the depths of his heart, he might have hoped that you’d spare him and solve the conflict more reasonably. But you are brought to the point of completely hitting him, which makes Baizhu think that the conflict was inevitable.

“I will be on reception, should you ever need me.”

[rene-darling]

here me out on this, afab Scara, reader eating him out while praying, since you mentioned in your 'how easy to bed each of the scara eras' that he likes being worshipped I think it'd be pretty interesting.

TO- be worshipped is to be loved.

...you pray daily, without fail you pray to your god, in a place..made best for prayer...credits [Oishru] on X

Hinted AFAB scaramouche though it's not clearly described, gn neutral reader, as reader's gender is not hinted to! Though if you squint its kinda hinted to the fact that the reader is in the church very often

So it can be perceived as nun!reader, but you can also take it as priest!reader

...scaramouche...

Wanderer wouldn't like to be worshipped as much as his past self, scaramouche would.

He finds it embarrassing to part his legs for you; in order for him to feel worshipped, he needs to feel above you, at least in the beginning. His back is cushioned by soft pillows as he tugs in your hair trying to ground himself in some way,

Tugging fists fulls he can't decide whether to pull you into the heat spreading through him or to push you away, it's too much!

And your soft, ever so sweet words- a contrast to your harsh tongue which eats him raw, a contrast to even his own harsh grip. But you never say anything. You don't complain about the scratch marks or the fist full of your hair that he pulls out

Nor about the blood that seeps from any part of you that he holds on to, his grip is never yielding, afraid that if he lets go, you'll go too.

But those thoughts get buried the longer the night goes on, spasms of his body shaking at every touch every lick every tug. His body presses against the statue of the archon, the stone carved to perfection. His gaze sometimes moved behind you to the church doors wondering what the nuns would think of the sacrilegious scene before them.

Tears as he listens to your murmur your face burned deep within him sending vibrations up his spine. Murmurs, more like prayers. The ones which would be considered holy, and innocent if not for where and how you were exactly praying.

His head rocked back and forth as if nodding in agreement to whatever you said, as if he himself would make it come true. Squirting onto your face as you drank him up like holy water,

You'll look up every once in a while, mouth dripping as you would ask him to fulfil your prayers "if- hah, if you bring me pleasure- then- I'll accept whatever prayer you wish for- AH-"

He's never felt this high, this above. Here you are at a place of worship- worshipping him. Your archon, your god. The one that he couldn't be.

Sweet slick drips down the hard stone of the statue as his legs are spread on top of either side of your shoulder. "Wh- ah mhm- am- I- I" barely a whisper, but you hear every oracle from your dear, "my archon." And with a pop of your lips as you let go of the meal that you were latched onto "my god."

That alone brings him over the edge, body slumping against the stone as tears fall like endless waterfalls. Yours, that's what he is.

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Imperfect Couple - 4

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Warning: The couple's arguments could be triggering.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8 , Chapter 9 , Chapter 10 , Chapter 11 , Chapter 12 , Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

As the door closed behind you, Bucky tried to ease the tension in the room. His hands gently held your shoulders as he guided you away from the heated encounter with Caroline, his voice a low murmur.

“You better fucking win the election, Bucky,” you spat, the anger simmering just beneath the surface.

“Alright, alright,” he responded, trying to soothe you with a calm tone, though his own nerves were frayed.

Your eyes narrowed as you took a step closer, your finger jabbing into his chest. “You’ve kidnapped me, drugged me, and dragged me into this mess,” you said, each word laced with frustration.

“I’ll play my part as the good and loving wife for the cameras, but you…” You paused, making sure your words hit him hard. “You better do your job too. Be my fucking husband and defend me from your mother!”

Bucky was taken aback, not just by your words but by the clarity with which you spoke, despite the fury burning within you. He was impressed—here you were, holding your ground even when the world seemed to be collapsing around you.

“Cause of death by in-law is rare,” you added, your voice dripping with dark humor. “I’d volunteer to add to the numbers.”

A small, almost reluctant smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I really like this humor. Unique,” he said, leaning in to place a soft kiss on your forehead. The gesture was meant to calm you, but there was something more behind it—a hint of admiration, maybe even respect.

Without another word, Bucky turned and walked back out, his mind already on the next confrontation—this time, with his mother.

Caroline was still seething, humiliated by how you had called out her feelings. She sat with a rigid posture, her face tense as Hazel carefully fixed her hair. Shawn, sensing the tension, silently poured whiskey into a glass and handed it to Julius.

“Put a leash on her,” Caroline spat at Bucky, her voice laced with anger.

Bucky sighed, frustration clear in his eyes. “Mother!”

His voice rose sharply, making everyone in the room flinch. “I want you to stop talking down to my wife.”

Caroline’s eyes narrowed. “You two aren’t exactly husband and wife.”

“Maybe not to you,” Bucky shot back, his tone cold and firm. “But to me, she’s the only woman in my life.”

Her expression hardened, but Bucky continued, undeterred. “And I’ve told you before—I won’t do this election without her.”

Caroline’s hands clenched into fists. “So you’re going to blame me now?” She massaged her temples as if warding off a headache. “Is this the thanks I get after helping you reach this position?”

Bucky’s eyes blazed with controlled fury. “We wouldn’t even be having this conversation if you hadn’t tried to separate us.”

Caroline’s thoughts churned. She hated you, her daughter-in-law, from the very beginning. She had always wanted Bucky to marry someone from their own social circle, someone who matched their status. Separating you two had been a victory for her, but Bucky’s refusal to remarry was an unexpected blow.

And now, the truth was unraveling—he had never sent the divorce papers to the court. He had blackmailed the attorney into silence. Not just you, but the entire family had been kept in the dark. Caroline had never imagined that her favorite child would deceive her like this.

Bucky stepped closer, his gaze steady. “I could’ve had a son or daughter by now. Nate could’ve had a cousin. It would’ve created the perfect image.”

Caroline’s eyes filled with dramatic tears as the weight of his words hit her. She had never anticipated this level of defiance from her son.

Bucky’s expression softened only slightly as he watched his mother’s tears fall. “Mother,” he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper, “stop with the crocodile tears.”

Caroline’s tears abruptly ceased, her eyes rolling in exasperation.

Bucky, before turning to leave, fixed her with a final, stern look. “If you want to see me win, stop poisoning us with your venomous words.” With that, he closed the door behind him.

As he stepped out, he noticed you leaning against the table, arms crossed and a knowing look on your face.

“You’re too late,” you remarked dryly. “But I appreciate the effort.”

Bucky let out a small, tired smile. “Anything for you, babe.”

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

The car moved steadily along the dark streets, the soft hum of the engine the only sound between you and Bucky in the backseat. The city lights blurred outside as you stared out the window, your reflection barely visible against the glass.

“Are you angry?” you finally asked, your voice cutting through the heavy silence.

Bucky turned his head slightly, his expression unreadable. “For what?”

“For witnessing me fight with your mom,” you clarified, your voice tinged with a mix of frustration and uncertainty.

Bucky leaned back in his seat, his eyes briefly closing as if gathering his thoughts. “To make you feel better, I won’t blame you at all,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “She had it coming.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his response. “I’m so confused,” you admitted, your brow furrowing as you turned to face him. “What changed? You used to listen to her and do whatever she said without complaining.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened, and he let out a long breath. “She’s the main reason why we separated.”

His words hung in the air, and you felt your heart clench. The man sitting next to you was different—more reflective, more burdened by the past. It was as if the Bucky you once knew had been buried under years of silence and unspoken pain.

“You caught me by surprise when you quickly signed the divorce papers,” Bucky continued, his voice tinged with regret. He ran a hand through his hair, the tension in his shoulders evident. “Back then, I took everything for granted. I was used to you being patient and supportive, no matter what.”

He paused, his eyes staring straight ahead, as if lost in a memory. “Having a mother like Caroline, who’s super ambitious, and a father like Julius, who’s quiet but just as driven—it’s exhausting. It drained me mentally. The only anchor I had in this world was you.”

His voice cracked slightly, and you saw his hand clench into a fist on his lap. “The second mistake I made was turning a blind eye and shutting my ears when it came to your feelings. As long as I provided for you, I thought you’d stay. But you didn’t.”

His words cut deep, and you felt a lump form in your throat. You had loved him so deeply, yet he had been so blind to your pain. You had been patient, supportive, always there for him, but in the end, it wasn’t enough. The loneliness you felt in the marriage, the constant pressure of living up to his family’s expectations, had finally broken you.

“You’re an idiot,” you muttered, looking away as your eyes stung with unshed tears. You turned your gaze back to the window, unable to face him.

Bucky chuckled softly, though the sound held no real amusement. He looked at you, his eyes tracing the curve of your profile, even though you refused to meet his gaze. You could hate him, kill him even, but at least you were here beside him. That was enough for now. He knew he could win you back—he had to, for his own sanity.

The upcoming election loomed over him like a dark cloud. Everyone knew that the Vice President was just a figurehead, an accessory to the real power, which was Steve. Bucky had this gut feeling they were going to win, that victory was within reach. But he also knew the price of that victory—he would have to stop thinking of himself and put the country first.

But before he lost the chance to be selfish, he was determined to use this time to get you back. He knew the methods he had used were wrong—manipulative and unfair.

But he needed you, desperately. The one thing you and Caroline had in common was persistence; once you made up your mind, no one could change it.

He had to try. Because losing you again wasn’t an option.

The car slowed as it approached your apartment building, and Bucky’s heart pounded in his chest. This was just the beginning—he knew that. But he was willing to do whatever it took, no matter how long it took, to win you back.

Even if it meant going to war with the one person he could never afford to lose.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

The next morning, Greg arrived at the apartment, his nerves evident in the way he hesitated at the door. He took a deep breath before stepping inside, where he found Bucky already awake, sipping coffee by the window. Bucky's demeanor was calm, yet his eyes held a storm just beneath the surface.

Greg tried to ease the tension with a light question. "So, how are you and the missus?"

Bucky's expression was unreadable as he replied, "Hanging on the cliff. While she’s waiting for me to fall."

Greg cleared his throat, a chill running down his spine at Bucky’s ominous words. He couldn't help but think that this situation was far more precarious than he had imagined.

Just then, you emerged from your room, fully dressed and determined. Your eyes lit up when you saw Greg. "Oh great, you’re here. I want to talk to you."

Greg straightened up, ready to listen. You didn’t waste any time, your tone sharp and to the point. "Everyone's bored if we keep talking about politics. We need to show something relatable."

"People love candid moments," Greg offered, trying to gauge your reaction.

You nodded, appreciating the idea. "Exactly. We need to create moments that make us look more human, more like them. A small argument over breakfast, a shared laugh, anything that shows we’re not just politicians."

Bucky listened silently, his face impassive, but there was a flicker of approval in his eyes. He trusted you to handle this. You had a way of making people see what they wanted to see.

Greg, catching the subtle nod from Bucky, continued, "We could arrange some casual outings. Maybe a visit to a local diner, something low-key. Capture those moments and share them. It'll make people feel like they know you both personally."

Bucky finally spoke, his voice steady but with an edge of finality. "Whatever works. Just keep it natural. No over-the-top stunts."

You met Bucky’s gaze, a silent understanding passing between you. “We’ll make it work,” you said, confidence in your voice. “This will make people not just like us, but feel invested in us. They’ll want to see us succeed.”

Later, at the campaign headquarters, Steve approached Bucky, a rare smile on his face. “I’m impressed,” he admitted. “The way you and your wife have drawn the younger generation into this election—it’s brilliant.”

He never thought that you and Bucky could put your differences aside and make it work. From the outside, no one would know that the two of you had been separated for years. You both played the role of a married couple too well.

Bucky gave a slight nod, his eyes narrowing with the weight of the responsibility. “You can count on her.”

But the moment of pride was short-lived. Steve’s expression turned serious as he motioned for Bucky to follow him into his office. Once inside, Steve closed the door behind them. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

Bucky, sensing the shift in tone, asked, “Bad news?”

Steve hesitated, then sighed. “Well… kinda. My team found a comment online that mentioned the divorce between you and her.”

Bucky’s eyes widened in shock. “How? Nobody knew except you and me.” He had only told Steve about the divorce that was never finalized.

Now, only the Secret Service, Greg, and Steve knew, and they had all sworn to keep it a secret. His family and the Rogers couple wouldn’t reveal it because it would damage their image.

“Did the comment get deleted?” Bucky asked, his voice tight with concern.

“Oh yeah, for sure,” Steve reassured him. But then he paused, his voice dropping. “What if…?”

Bucky knew what he was hinting at and immediately dismissed the thought. “It can’t be her.”

Steve wasn’t so sure. “She thought she was divorced, traveling the world thinking she was single. She must have told someone.”

Bucky stayed quiet, his mind working through the possibilities. But outwardly, he remained calm. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and measured. “Well, if someone really knows, we’ll just have to wait. Sooner or later, that person will reveal themselves.”

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[etheraltides]

MY SUNSET ˚✧ﾟ

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Artist!Reader

Summarize: Reader is painting while she waits for Rafe to come home.

Warning(s): none, I guess. Rafe's daddy issues.

A/N: Something cozy cause we're all humans, right? Feedback is always heartwarming!

The evening sun cast a warm glow across the beach house, settling into soft, golden patches on the walls. Rafe stood in the doorway, loosening his tie with one hand, his other rubbing at his neck. His face showed exhaustion – a subtle droop in his eyes, a faint frown line between his brows that deepened with every passing day. He let out a sigh, dropping his briefcase by the door with a dull thud. Being the man of the family could be exhausting sometimes.

Your eyes were trained on the canvas while you brushed steady strokes on it. The loud music playing on the headphone helping you to not overthink your decisions about this piece. You wanted it to be natural, something from deep within you.

Rafe knew that after calling out for you a couple of times and getting no responses where to find you.

You were so focused on the painting that you didn't even notice when he opened the back door and walked down the stairs, moving behind you. He waited until you moved the brush away from the canva to lean down and place a kiss on your cheek.

He smiled agaisnt your skin as you jumped in place, dodging your srained brush when you placed your hand on your chest.

"How long have you been here? I didn't see you coming." You smiled at him, your cheeks burning from the jumpscare as you placed the brush down, wiping your hands on the cloth.

"I just arrived and assumed you'd be here."

You titled your head to the side, a small smile on your lips as you notice his tired eyes and heavy shoulders. “Long day?”

He looked down, a faint smile breaking through his fatigue. “You could say that” He murmured, unbottoning the fa few buttons of his shirt and making his way over to you.

You were sitting cross-legged on the outside couch, dry paint smudged on your fingers and a touch of blue staining your cheek, making you look like a work of art yourself in Rafe's eyes. Brushes and a half-finished canvas rested on the table nearby, and Rafe’s eyes softened at the sight of you. There was something utterly comforting about coming back home to you - like when that orange sunray hits your skin during a sunset.

He slumped down beside you, his shoulders sagging, and you reached out without thinking, your hand tracing lightly over his shoulder. “You’re so tense.” You remarked, your fingers pressing gently into the tight knots at the base of his neck.

You couldn't remember the last time Rafe took a break. A real one and not those parties Topper and Kelsey were always inviting him to.

Rafe closed his eyes, a sigh slipping from his lips as he leaned into your touch. “Feels like I’m carrying the world around” he muttered, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

You chuckled softly, shifting to kneel behind him. “Well, the world can wait. Let me help.” Your hands found his shoulders, thumbs pressing into the firm muscle, working through layers of tension with slow, careful strokes.

Rafe’s shoulders rose and fell with each breath, his head dipping forward as he surrendered to your touch. You could feel him loosening under your fingers, the hard lines of his posture softening. His breathing grew slower, deeper, as though your touch had grounded him.

"You and those magic hands, huh." You could hear the smirk in his voice, chuckling.

You leaned in, her breath warm against his ear as she whispered, “Think you can relax for a few minutes?”

His lips curved, eyes still closed, and he mumbled, “I’ll try.”

You continued working your hands down his back, your fingers firm but tender, kneading out knots with a gentle persistence. You felt his shoulders drop further, his body melting under your care. His hands rested on his knees, fingers twitching occasionally as he let go of the stress of the day. You tilted your head a bit to watch his face, his expression easing from its usual guarded tension to something softer, almost vulnerable.

Rafe’s voice came, a low murmur. “You know… I don’t think anyone’s ever done this for me before.”

Your hands paused, just for a beat, and then resumed their steady rhythm. Your heart sank with realization. “Really?” You brushed a stray lock of hair from his forehead, placing a kiss on his cheek. “Then it’s about time.”

He chuckled, the sound rumbling from deep in his chest. “Guess I got lucky with you.” His head tilted slightly, a faint glint in his eyes as he looked back at you.

Your smirked, rolling your eyes, though your cheeks warmed. “Well, someone has to keep you in line.” You gently squeezed his shoulder, a playful edge to her touch.

Rafe’s lips twitched, his gaze softening as he moved his hands to your waist, bringing you to straddle his lap. “And you’re perfect for the job, aren’t you?”

Your fingers slowed, your hands resting on his shoulders as you shared a quiet look. You could feel his heartbeat steady beneath your touch as you moved your fingers down to his chest, and something unspoken passed between them - a silent understanding, a comfort found only in each other’s presence. Home.

Rafe lingered under your touch a little longer, breathing in that familiar scent of paint and something floral, your presence a gentle balm to the weight he carried daily. The silence between you was thick with an unspoken intimacy, but he found he didn’t mind it. For the first time in hours, he felt at ease.

After a few minutes, you slid down beside him on the couch, leaning your head back against the cushion, your fingers still tracing absent patterns along the exposed skin of his chest. He tilted his head to glance at you, a hint of curiosity sparking in his gaze as he noticed the streak of paint on your cheek again.

“Still working on that painting?” His voice was softer, the edge worn off by your presence.

You followed his gaze to her paint-streaked fingers, smiling sheepishly. “Yeah… lost track of time. It’s been tough getting it right. I just...” You paused, looking off thoughtfully before turning back to him. “You ever feel like something is close to being perfect, but you can’t quite… capture it?”

Rafe considered her words, his gaze flickering down to your nails scratching the paint off your skin and taking your hand in his, a stark contrast to his own. Smaller, warmer. Your dedication to your art, to something so different from his structured world, was something he admired - quietly, almost reverently.

“All the time.” He said, his voice low. “It’s like there’s this… picture in your head, but you can’t reach it. Can’t even touch it sometimes.” He rubbed the back of his neck, his fingers brushing against a tender spot you had just relieved. His mind went back to the role model of a son his dad expected him to be and how he could never get even close to that, even when he thought he was making progress. “But I’m guessing yours involves a little more paint."

You smiled, a soft laugh slipping out as you reached over, your fingers grazing his cheek, leaving a faint blue smudge. “Looks like you’re part of the art now, too.”

Rafe gave her a mock glare, though his eyes betrayed a hint of amusement. “Glad I could help,” he said dryly, but he didn’t wipe it off. Instead, he leaned in, kissing your shoulder. “So, what’s this masterpiece gonna be?”

You hesitated, tucking your legs beneath you as you angled toward him, your expression almost shy. Rafe couldn't understand how humble you were and sometimes even insecure about your art when everything you did was breathtaking. “It’s… it’s supposed to be a mix of things. Like… nature and people and everything kind of blending together. But it’s tough. Every time I think I have it, I look again, and it’s just not there yet.”

Rafe’s gaze softened. “You’ll get there.” The words held more confidence than he often felt himself. “You always do.”

You looked at him, a faint blush coloring your cheeks. “You’re biased.”

He shrugged, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Maybe. Doesn’t mean I’m wrong, though.”

Both of you settled into a comfortable silence, your head resting against his shoulder, his arm draped around you almost instinctively. The world beyond the backyard faded away, the pressures and stresses replaced by the quiet hum of familiarity, of being home.

After a few minutes, you stirred, breaking the silence. “You know… we could both use a break.” Your voice was light, but there was a note of longing in it.

Rafe raised an eyebrow, curious. “Thinking of a getaway?”

“Maybe.” You looked at him, your eyes bright with something he hadn’t seen in a while. “I mean, we talk about it all the time, but… I don’t know. What if we just went somewhere? Just us. No work, no deadlines. Just… you and me and a week with nothing but time.”

He considered it, the idea settling over him with surprising appeal. Work had been unrelenting, and the idea of stepping away - for a short while - sounded like the relief he hadn’t realized he needed. And the thought of you beside him, somewhere far from the noise of his daily life, was… tempting.

“Anywhere in mind?” he asked, his voice a shade lighter, almost teasing.

You tapped her chin thoughtfully, your eyes drifting as though you could already see it. “A beach maybe… with clear blue water, warm sand. Or… I don’t know, maybe somewhere with lots of art and history. Or a cozy cabin with nothing around us but trees and stars at night.”

Rafe chuckled, amused by your enthusiasm. “So… every vacation idea, basically.”

You nudged him playfully, your laughter filling the room. “It’s called variety, Rafe. Ever heard of it?”

His lips quirked up, and he reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers. “Alright, let’s say… I’m in. Where’s the one place you’d want to go first?”

Your eyes softened, a dreaminess overtaking her expression as you mulled it over. “Italy,” you said finally. “Can you imagine? All that history, the food, the art… and the coastline. We could spend days wandering through old streets and galleries, then head to the beach by sunset.”

The way you spoke about it painted a vivid picture, and he found himself wrapped up in the idea, too but truth be told: he'd go anywhere with you. Even being locked in the bedroom with you would be a dreamy vacation. “Italy” He repeated, rolling the word around as if it were a foreign but tantalizing concept. “Never been. But I could go for that. Though… if we’re going, you’re gonna have to handle the language part.”

Your grin widened, your eyes dancing at the idea of trying to use all the Italian you learned by yourself a few years ago, at the possibility of leaving the country for the first time. “Consider it done.”

They talked late into the night, exchanging dreams and ideas for that trip, letting themselves get lost in fantasies of cobblestone streets, Italian sunsets, and lazy mornings. Rafe found himself captivated by the way your eyes sparkled, the way your voice softened whenever you spoke about the art, the people, the life waiting beyond their world.

At some point, he had leaned back, his head tilted against the couch, watching you more than really listening, feeling a warmth spread through his chest that had nothing to do with their imagined vacation.

Your voice dropped as you continued talking, your words like a gentle rhythm in the background, and he realized you had a way of drawing him in, pulling him out of the exhausting reality he was constantly entrenched in. You were his escape, his sanctuary.

Eventually, your words trailed off, and you glanced over, her eyes catching him in a lingering, soft look. “Are you sure you're really in for this?”

He blinked, surprised by the intensity of the connection he felt in that moment. “Yeah.” His voice was barely a whisper, but it held a depth of sincerity. “With you? Absolutely.”

For a while, you simply looked at each other, the quiet promise of your shared dreams hanging in the air. You moved closer, tucking yourself against him, your hand resting on his chest as he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close.

And as they drifted off, the night wrapping them in its quiet embrace, Rafe knew that no matter where life took them - Italy, the beach, or even just their own city - you'd be there beside him.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

[the-fiction-witch]

Discussing The Matter

Media - Game Of Thrones Character - Viserys Targaryen Couple - Viserys X Reader Reader - (OC) Visenya Targaryen (Twin sister of Viserys) Rating - Smut (Incest) Word Count - 3008

Visenya made her way through Illrio’s large impressive palace in her loose blue gown in the typical pentos style. She matched into viserys chambers seeing his books and weapons lining the place, his large circle marble bath in the centre where he currently sat being attended by maids,

"Go." She demanded and the maids and staff cleared out leaving them alone,

Viserys looked at her, admiring her, she looked like an actual goddess to him. "What a commanding tone, you come into my chambers uninvited and demand my servants to leave?"

"Just because you have a cock! Does not entitle you to make all the decisions regarding our family viserys!" she said as she came over and stood at the steps of his tub meaning he couldn't get out until she was done talking to him

“Did you come all the way here to discuss my cock? or is there a different reason, my sweet sister?"

"viserys. I'm serious." She complained, "You can't really allow illrio to make this match for Dany. The Dothraki are cruel, their Karls take multiple wives, slaves, butchers and bastards to their women!"

Viserys rolled his eyes and leaned back against the bath, his gaze drifting towards the ceiling, "Oh, come on, do you really expect me to care about Dany? She's already a woman flowered, it's time she started fulfilling her duties as a woman."

"... And what of me? I am a woman flowered why did you not sell me?"

Viserys' gaze snapped back to her, his eyes searching her face in disbelief, a hint of anger in his voice as he answered. "You are my twin, my other half, my equal. I would never trade you away to some stinking barbarian."

"Dany is our baby sister. Is she not of your care too?" She said as she slowly stepped up the steps and into his bath with him, crawling over to sit in his lap her dress immediately soaking,

Viserys' breath hitches as his sister straddles him, his hands resting on her hips instinctively and pulling her closer to him in the bathtub. He looks up at her, his eyes burning with a mix of anger and desire, as he speaks, his voice coming out as a hoarse whisper. "You know I would never do anything to hurt you, but that doesn't apply to Daenerys. She might be our sister, but she's still just a woman. Her role is to obey us and bear heirs."

"I am a woman," she whispered against his lips,

His eyes darkened with lust, and a low growl rumbled in his throat as she spoke. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer, his hands sliding up underneath her wet gown to caress the bare skin of her back. "You are the exception."

"am I? I am older. I am ... Arguably more desirable. Dany is a child. And you sell her away, surely illrio has asked you as... The one with the cock. To make arrangements to send me away" she explained playing with running her fingers on his face and hair, as she shifts her hips on him

A sharp intake of breath escaped him as her hips moved against his, his grip on her waist tightening as he tries to keep himself from losing control. His eyes darkened even further, the desire burning inside him making it hard to think straight, the thought of losing her to a stranger, painful to imagine. "He suggested it, yes, but I refused. You're mine, always mine, I'd rather die than let another man have you."

"even if you got your army for me," she cooed moving her hips more knowing she can force his answers out of him

A low, primal moan slipped from his lips as her movements continued to drive him mad with desire, his own hips bucking against her involuntarily, his hands sliding down to her thighs, holding her in place. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his words coming out as a hoarse whisper. "I would burn every kingdom from Qarth to Asshai to the ground before letting another man touch you, to hell with my army."

"but she is sellable? Your own sister?"

His expression hardened, his lust momentarily forgotten as reminders of the current argument returned to his mind. He pulled back, looking at her with a mixture of anger and resignation. "She is. She is younger, more innocent, still pure. She can give me alliances and armies. What can I possibly gain from you?"

she glared and went to move off him

he caught her hips and slammed her down on his lap, the water of the tub sloshing around them. His grip was firm, not letting her move away from him. "Don't you dare. You came into my bathtub and straddled me, you're not going anywhere without me finishing what you started."

"you know what you would gain from me. An army, your crown. More allies in this world. You have two sisters both of which you can sell off and still be open to marry across the sea when you are king."

His hands on her hips held her firmly against him, forcing her to feel the hard length of him, his chest heaving as his breathing quickened. He moved his face closer to hers, their lips just barely touching as he spoke. "Why do you think I want an army or a crown when I have you, hmm? You're worth more to me than all the gold and armies in this world. I don't care about marriages or alliances, I just want you, only you, always and forever."

she turned her face away so he couldn't kiss her "This is cruel to her viserys."

His fingers dug into her waist, his voice coming out as a hoarse growl, frustration and desire mixing in his tone. "Why do you care so much about what happens to Dany? You're mine. You belong to me and I belong to you. She has to do her duty, even if it means offering her body and fertility to a barbarian. Why can't you just accept that?"

"... We ... Are not a possibility"

His grip on her tightened, his eyes narrowing as he watched her, a mixture of anger and hurt in his expression. "And why not? We're both Targaryen, I want you, you want me, we should be perfect together. So why can't we be a possibility?"

"we are siblings." She reminds

Viserys' jaw clenched, his breathing growing ragged. He knew she was right, but that didn't make it hurt any less. "I don't care. I don't care if it's a sin, if the Seven disapprove, if the Gods themselves send lightning to strike us down. All I know is that you drive me mad, that I want you, burn for you, need you more than anything in this world. And you cannot deny that you feel the same."

"targaryen wed brother to sister for thousands of years... But that time is over. No land would allow us to be as we wish."

His hands on her hips trembled as he struggled to hold himself back, his heart aching with frustration and unfulfilled desire. "Who cares what other lands allow, why should we care what the rest of the world thinks? We are Targaryens, dragonsblood coursing through our veins, we are above those pathetic mortals and their pitiful little rules. Why can't we just forget about the world and be together, you and me?"

she sighed and shifted her hips again "We aren't done discussing the matter"

He groaned as her hips moved against him again, his body responding to her unconsciously. He tried to focus on the conversation, but all he could think about was the fact she was on top of him, her body pressed against his, her breath on his face. He took a deep breath and tried to collect himself, his voice coming out as a hoarse whisper. "What further is there to discuss, my sweet sister?"

"when she is married, what will happen to us? She will be forced away with the dothraki as a breeding slave... And us? Are we to remain guests of illiro forever, worried always he is to sell us too?" She got faster

Viserys closed his eyes, fighting the wave of pleasure that washed over him as she picked up her pace, his hands on her hips now almost digging into her skin. His mind was struggling to focus, and he had to take another deep breath before responding, his voice coming out strained and hoarse. "No... I won't let that happen. I'm building an army, we will get our home back. I will be king, and you will be..." he trailed off, his breath catching in his throat as he let the fantasy play out in his mind. He stopped talking, his imagination conjuring up a vision of himself on the Iron Throne, with her sitting on a throne next to him. Him claiming her as his in front of the Seven Kingdoms and no one being able to protest their union. It was a tantalizing, seductive idea, one that made his heart hammer furiously in his chest, and the words spilled from his lips in a reverent whisper. "You will be my Queen."

"as tempting as that is. Where are we to live in the mean time? Here withilliro? With Dany and her horse lord slavers? Or go homeless while you build this army" she whispered against his lips as she moved her hands pulling her dress a little,

Her words broke into his fantasy, but the sight of her nearly naked body straddling him left him too distracted to think about the specifics of their situation. His hands roamed her body, roaming up her thighs, his fingers gripping her hips, his eyes drifting from her face to her chest. "We will stay here, for now. I need time to plan, to gather allies. We'll have to be patient, I'm afraid, my sweet sister."

"and If illrio betrays us?" She moved back down slowly gasping and softly moaning as she moved down his shaft,

Viserys gritted his teeth, his grasp on her tightening as he tried to focus on anything but the pleasure building within him. However, the sight of her sliding down his body, her breaths and noises adding fuel to the fire burning within him, made it near impossible to think straight. His voice came out as a hoarse whisper. "He won't. We need him, and he needs us. He knows that."

she grunted as she finally reached his hilt, "...does he?"

Viserys' breath hitched at the feel of her pressing against him, his eyes darkening with desire as his fingers dug into her hips, his head tipping back as he struggled to keep the last bit of his control. He spoke through gritted teeth, the words coming out as a primal growl. "He does. He better, otherwise he's a dead man."

"... The seven kingdoms will not be thrilled, of a set of twins as long and queen" she spoke as she nibbled his neck and began to ride

Viserys' head lolled back as she moved against him, his eyes closing as his body reacted to her touches and the feel of her mouth on his neck. He fought to keep his voice steady, his words coming out as a ragged whisper, his hands on her hips moving her faster against him, his own hips involuntarily bucking up to meet hers, his body on fire from the feel of her. "The Seven Kingdoms can go to hell, they have no say in what we do." His words dissolved into a deep growl, all sense and reason abandoned in the onslaught of pleasure and need. All he could think about was her, her body, her skin, her gasps and the way she rode him, driving him mad with desire. He moved his hands to her thighs, gripping them tightly, wanting to hold her in place and never let go. "I need you. Now."

she nodded and got faster riding at a decent pace the water moving around them

Viserys groaned deeply, the sound coming from deep within his chest. His hands on her thighs slid up to her hips, helping her move faster against him, his own body meeting hers with a need that bordered on primal. He tried to speak, but all coherent thought had left him, leaving only desire and need. "Gods, yes, keep going, don't stop." His lips found hers in a desperate, hungry kiss, his tongue slipping into her mouth, exploring and tasting her as his hands on her hips pulled her closer, desperate to feel more of her, his body pressed against hers. His breaths came in ragged gasps as he panted, the pleasure building and building, pushing him closer and closer to the edge. "You're driving me insane, sweet sister."

her hand trailed Into his hair during the kiss, her hips moving on their own mindlessly searching for pleasure

He groaned as her hand threaded through his hair, the feeling sending jolts of pleasure down his spine, adding to the unbearable ecstasy building inside him. His tongue tangled with hers, his hands on her hips guiding her movements, his own body reacting to her, his hips meeting hers in a frantic, desperate rhythm. "So close... don't stop, don't stop, please..."

she screamed biting his shoulder as she reached her orgasm her body trembling and freezing up clenching around him,

He cursed under his breath as her body shuddered and clenched around him, the sensation of her climaxing driving him over the edge as well, his own release crashing through him in a wave of ecstasy. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, a guttural, primal moan escaping him as he held her tight, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm. "Sweet sister... gods, you drive me mad with desire."

she gasped her head laying against his bare chest "We... We can't keep doing this..."

His hold on her hips loosened, his hands moving up to her waist, his fingers tracing lazy circles on her skin. His body was still thrumming with the aftershocks of pleasure, but her words sunk in, and he forced himself to be serious. "Why not? We both want it, we both need it."

"and what happens when my belly grows heavy?" She asked against his lips

His lips brushed against hers, his tongue darting out to taste her skin, his thoughts and feelings swirling within him. The mention of her belly rounding and growing was an image that caused his heart to clench in his chest, a mix of desire and tenderness stirring within him. "Then we will deal with it, together. And when your belly is heavy, I will worship you, my sweet sister, and I will kiss every inch of your body."

she chuckled "Would you sell our baby away for more army, as you do for Dany?"

He froze at her words, a stab of guilt and shame going through him at the thought, at the comparison. He held her tight, his fingers digging into her skin as he tried to form a response. "No, never. Our child would never be sold or bartered, I swear it. I would sooner sell my own soul than let anything or anyone harm a hair on our child's head."

"but our sister?"

He sighed, his heart heavy with guilt and regret at the mention of Daenerys. The reality of their situation weighed heavily on him, and he knew he couldn't deny the truth. "I had no choice," he murmured, his voice laced with pain and regret. "I need alliances and armies to take back my throne. I cannot do it on my own. If it means selling her off, then so be it."

"then why not me?"

His eyes darkened, and his jaw clenched at her words. The thought of selling her off, of giving her away to another man, sent a surge of anger and possessiveness through him. "Because you're different," he growled, his grip on her hips tightening. "You're mine, my sweet sister, and nobody else's. The mere thought of another man touching you, looking at you, claiming you... it drives me mad with rage." He pulled back slightly, meeting her gaze with an intensity that spoke of the depth of his feelings for her. He spoke in a low, hoarse voice, his eyes burning with a mixture of desire and determination. "You're mine, sweet sister, and I'll burn the entire world to the ground before I let anyone take you from me. You're mine to worship, to cherish, to protect. You will never be sold or bartered like a piece of property. You will be my queen, by my side, and none will dare question our union."

She nodded and laid on his chest with a slight sigh

He held her close, his arms wrapped around her tight, his fingers tracing gentle circles on her bare back. He took a deep, steadying breath, the feel of her on his chest bringing him a strange sense of comfort and peace. He spoke quietly, his voice soft and vulnerable. "I mean it, sweet sister. You're the most important thing in this world to me. I'd give up my throne, my crown, everything, just to keep you by my side. I love you."

"I love you too, I just worry for her is all. I worry for all of us." She says

He nodded, his expression somber as he thought of their sister. The weight of responsibility and worry weighed heavily on his shoulders. "I know, sweet sister, and I share your worries. I wish there was an easier path for us, a way to take back the Iron Throne without selling Dany off like cattle. But I see no other way. I need an army, and alliances, and I need them now."

she nodded pulling him into a kiss

He responded to her kiss, his lips moving against hers hungrily. His hands roamed her body, his touch desperate and possessive, as if he couldn't get close enough to her. He broke the kiss, his breathing ragged and his voice ragged. "I need you, sweet sister. I need you now."

[mediumgayitalian]

Plink.

“Psst, hey! Nico!”

Plink. Plink.

“Nico! You up?”

Plink.

Plink plink plink. Plink —

“What in the world,” Nico hisses, yanking open his window, “is going — oh.” He blinks. “Will?”

Will grins. “Hi.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I was in the neighbourhood,” he says, voice not nearly quiet enough for someone who is at direct risk of being devoured. “Thought I’d drop by. Can I come in?”

If Nico were smart, he would say no, actually, it’s like four in the godsdamn morning, go the hell back to your cabin. What is wrong with you.

Instead, he says, “We live in the same neighbourhood, dweeb-face, this is a camp,” and opens his window all the way. Will grins at him, wide and glinting in the dark, and yanks himself in head-first, somersaulting onto the floor and staying there, sprawled on the polished marble floors.

“Hi,” he says again, grin shifting into something more crooked.

Nico breaks away, hiding a smile with rolled eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“It’s ridiculous to want to see you?”

“Before dawn? Yes!”

“Aw.” He settles against the ground, tucking his hands behind his head and letting half lidded eyes trace over Nico’s form, over the sleepy shape of him. Nico shivers. “I was awake, you know. I dreamt of you.”

Cool the fresh hell down, Nico screams at his brain. Out loud, he says, “Shut the fuck up,” and ignores Will’s snickering. How dare he, honestly. For someone who gets clowned as often as he does he is not nearly humble enough. Apollonian genes, indeed.

“What, you don’t dream of me?”

When Will lies, his throat swells up and he breaks out in hives. Nico is at the top of the leaderboard for getting the reaction out of him, with Cecil at a close second and Kayla no slouch in third place. Will is highly manipulable. It’s a good time for everyone around (even Chiron, who is, to his own irritation, lumbering behind at spot #42).

Nico, however, has no such holdups. Nor is he inclined, at any point in time, to fluff up Will’s ego, no matter how he looks when he’s cocky. Nico has self control. Mostly. (Well, at times.)

“Of course not. My subconscious would never do that to me.”

“You’re mean to me, di Angelo.”

“You like it.”

Nico watches, fascinated, as Will’s loudmouth snaps right shut; as his face burns sacred cow right in the low light of the cabin, as he squirms.

“Oh,” he says, gleefully.

“Can it, di Angelo —”

“Oh ho ho ho —”

“I’m gonna curse your ass with haiku disorder, do you know what that is, ‘cause I’ll show you, dickhead —”

Nico crouches down and pokes Will hard in the cheek, and he doesn’t even flinch — he just goes redder. Nico guffaws.

“Dude! Have some — dignity, oh my —”

“Shut up! Shut up! You’re so horrible, gods, I am leaving —”

“Oh, come here.” Will is dragged easily from the windowsill, because he is a big fat faker. There are actual claw marks on the infirmary door from the last time Austin brought Nyssa to drag him out.

“I don’t wanna stay where I’m unwanted,” he laments, bouncing on the bed when Nico shoves him. He takes the inch Nico gives him and burrows deeply under the blankets, throwing a melodramatic hand over his eyes. Nico rolls his own eyes, hoping if he rolls then hard enough Will can tell regardless of whether or not he’s looking, and crawls in after him. He makes sure to kick him at least thrice. “I can take a hint, you know.”

“Medical arts were the wrong career path for you. It’s not too late, you know. I’m sure you could shadow Nicholas Cage or something —”

“I am going to kill you with hammers —”

Nico evades gus clumsy attacks with ease, snickering as he pins him to the bed, smirking when he gives up fighting with a huff.

“I’m glad you came when you couldn’t sleep,” Nico says, after a moment for them to catch their breath. “But the point of that agreement is for you to then shut the fuck up and sleep. Here. So.”

“I’m trying,” Will grumbles. “But you’re being mean and it’s crushing my soul. How am I supposed to sleep with a crushed soul?”

“Oh my gods.”

“Okay, okay! Put the pillow away, jeez, I’m sorry. Meanie.”

Nico rolls his eyes again, settling down next to him. Will takes longer to settle, because he’s annoying, but right before Nico is ready to smack the shit out of him again, he calms down, burrowing stilling once he’s turned on his side.

“…Thank you.”

“Whatever, goober. Go to sleep.”

The smile is obvious in his voice. “Goodnight, Nico.”

“Goodnight, Will.”

“In the morning can we —”

“Goodnight, William.”

“Okay, okay. Night.” He pauses. “Love you.”

Nico shoved his grinning face into his pillow. “Love you too.”

[mint-yooxgi]

Kinktober Day 9 - Yandere!Hybrid!Hongjoong + Predator/Prey & Marking

Anonymous Said: Hongjoong from ateez. Consensual Predator/ Prey & Biting/ Marking. Yandere & Hybrid. A/n: Hongjoong and Predator/Prey just go together so well, oh my lord. Also, I sort of pictured him like Klaus from Vampire Diaries/The Originals in this. I hope you like it!! Warnings/Genre/Rating: 18+ MDNI - Smut, Mature, Established Relationship, Yandere, Possession, Monster Features Word Count: 1,239 Kinktober 2024 Mini Masterlist

“It’s cute how you think you can escape me.” His voice is nothing but calm, seeming to echo around you in all directions. “There’s no way out, My Love. The sooner you give yourself to me, the better this will be for the both of us.”

Your eyes dart every which way, back pressed firmly against a large tree. The surrounding forest is dark, the moon hiding behind a cloud and making it even harder for you to see your surroundings. Your heart pounds relentlessly inside of your chest, ears ringing as you strain to hear even a hint of his movements drawing near.

“I can hear your heartbeat, My Love.” Hongjoong hums, sounding slightly closer than was before. “Your body calls to me. It beckons me, and once I catch you, you will finally be mine.”

Cautiously, you peek around the tree, scanning the darkness for any signs of movement. It sounds as if he’s coming from off to your left, yet for all you can see, the forrest surrounding you is completely still.

Taking a low, deep breath in, you dart behind another tree.

Keep moving. You have to keep moving.

An eerie, high pitched giggle reverberates around the area, making your heart stutter inside of your chest.

“Oh, My Love,” The grin he wears is clear in his voice. “Do you really think you have a way out of this?”

A gentle breeze drifts through the trees, stirring the leaves that litter the ground. Their soft rustling is deafening, covering the sound of footfalls stalking ever closer to where you’re hiding.

“Did you really think that I would ever let you go, once I set my sights on you?” There’s an almost air of condescension to his voice as it slowly crescendos around you. “Did you not know that from the very first moment we met, you were mine?”

A golden glint through the darkness catches your eye, and you swear that your heart stops. Your breath catches, body tensing only for a moment before you’re taking off sprinting deeper into the woods.

A maniacal laugh fills the air around you.

“That’s it, Little Rabbit,” His gleeful shout can be heard all around you. “Run! Run right into my loving arms!”

You don’t even spare a glance behind you, lungs burning as you attempt to fill them with air. Your feet begin to hurt from how hard they’re pounding on the earth beneath you, knees threatening to give out as you hear rustling behind you.

You know it’s pointless to try and outrun him, but like hell you’re not going to try.

A moment passes, suspended in time. As if the whole world freezes around you, the air being knocked from your lungs.

“Found you.” 

The harsh bark of a tree digs into the skin of your back, shirt torn in multiple places. The warmth of another body, firm and intimidating, keeps you pressed in place as hands hold your waist. Fingers desperately dig into your skin, a chest rumbling in contentment pressed flush against your own.

Hongjoong’s whole body shudders as he buries his face into the side of your neck, inhaling deeply. His hips roll into your own, thumbs teasing along the bare skin of your waist as he pushes you deeper against that tree.

“There’s no escaping me now, My Love,” His voice rumbles out, nosing along your pulse slowly. “You’re mine now… Forever.”

Your hands settle around him, hands splaying on his back. You can still hear your heartbeat ringing in your ears, but instead of fear, the only thing you can feel coursing through your veins is excitement.

Hongjoong takes in another stuttering breath, his lips parting in a moan. “You smell delectable.”

“It’s all for you, Joongie.” The corners of your lips tug upwards slightly, tilting your head to the side to offer him more of your neck. “You caught me, fair and square. I’m yours now. Forever.”

The way you repeat his words from only moments before has a feral snarl tearing from his throat. Hongjoong wastes no time gripping your one thigh and hoisting it around his waist, pressing in closer to you. His forehead rests against your own, golden eyes shining as he stares deeply into your own. Black veins crackle down the sides of his cheeks, fangs poking out from beneath curled lips.

“Yes you are, My Love.” He hums his agreement, nuzzling into the side of your neck. His one hand slips down, fingers toying with the waistband of your jeans. “As I have always been yours. Since the first moment I saw you, I knew we were meant to be. Together, as one.”

He pops the button of your jeans, sliding the zipper down meticulously.

Your breathing deepens. “As one.”

A pleased rumble shakes his chest, and it’s as if whatever calmness he had just been exuding for your sake, snaps.

Instantly, his hand slips beneath your jean, fingers sliding passed your panties. He lets out a low moan as he drags his fingertips through your folds, loving how wet you are already. His hips jerk, lips latching onto the side of your neck as he begins to circle your clit.

Your hips jolt forward, eyes fluttering shut as a blissful moan tumbles from your lips. Your breathing is heavy, thighs twitching as he increases the pressure of his fingers over your clit. All this buildup has made you so eager… so sensitive, that his mere touch already has you teetering on the very edge.

“Come on, Lovely,” he rasps out, hot breath hitting your pulse with every exhale. “Let me see that beautiful face contort in blissful ecstasy as you scream my name.”

“Hongjoong-“ His name is but a whimper on your lips as he increases his pace over your clit.

“That’s it, Love,” His voice deepens, veins almost pulsing beneath his eyes as he laves his tongue over your pulse. “Just like that. Cry out my name as I finally claim you as my own. Soak my fingers as you flood my tongue with your very soul.”

Your whole body shudders, and with one final flick over your clit, your orgasm crashes into you unexpectedly. Every single rush of pleasure through your veins is only amplified by the feeling of his fangs sinking deeply into your neck. 

Hongjoong eagerly drinks his fill of you, keeping you suspended in bliss for as long as he can. His nose is pressed against your skin, small groans escaping him as your blood floods his tongue. The whole while, he never once stops his movements over your clit, needing you to experience every single moment of the same ecstasy that he feels from simply being in your presence.

The way you continuously shake in his arms, thighs twitching around him has a smirk tugging at his lips.

Finally, he slows his fingers over your clit, allowing you a small reprieve as you come down from your high. He pulls away from your neck, laving his tongue over the fresh mark on the side of your neck. His eyes are hooded, golden gaze flashing with nothing but a loving, lustful pride as he admires the mark he’s just given you.

He smiles, turning to watch you as you attempt to catch your breath.

Leaning in, he nuzzles his nose affectionately against your own, your blood still clinging to his lips. 

A gentle hum escapes him. “You’re mine.”

[monster-disaster]

[minotaur] Boss

minotaur!Boss x human!Reader Good to know: blowjob

Summary: You have a job interview with Boss.

A/N: Let's go back to the pub we visited here and here.

The silence following the minotaur's words is deafening. His deep voice echoes in your suddenly empty head. Even the world feels frozen and motionless just like you. Your eyes are wide open, your lips dry, and your spine is straight and rigid against the back of the chair. Your shocked voice breaks the silence when you find the power to force it out of your chest. "Now?" Your gaze follows the small tug of his thin lips. The thick golden piercing in his nose shines under the dim light of his office. "Do you have anything else to do?" He asks. His question is almost mocking. A silent laugh shakes his broad shoulders. The black shirt he wears stretches on his upper body. The thin fabric does nothing to hide his stomach and the hard plates of his chest. "No." You have to clear your throat. "No." "I'm waiting then," he says, pushing himself away from the wooden desk separating you two. You can still feel the amusement in his words. He is waiting for you to run for the hills, you are sure of it. A small, determined frown pulls on your brows as you scowl at the air in front of you. Your chest heaves with a deep breath before you stand up and put your bag on your previous seat.

If he wants you to prove yourself, who are you to say no?

His gaze is heavy and burning as you approach him and stand between his spread legs. His jeans stretch around his trunk-like thighs. The bulge between them looks uncomfortable. "I'm waiting," he hums, pushing his hips forward to the edge of his chair. You force your eyes up to his face. "Then wait a bit more." The male smirks at your grunt. So you can be feisty, he thinks with a hint of satisfaction. His half-hard cock jerks at the new discovery.

Without another word, you drop down on the ground. The wooden floor is hard and uncomfortable under your knees. Your hands are a bit shaky as you place them on his legs, slowly moving them up on his thighs. You can feel the movement of his muscles under your palms.

You can do it, you tell yourself. You knew about the pub even before you came in a few days ago because of the advertisement taped on the door. You knew your job would be more than serving drinks and handling drunk idiots.

You caress his thighs, letting your nails dig into the rough fabric of his jeans and enjoying the thick flesh under your touch. His legs spread open even more, and you have to hide your smirk. He is not as unresponsive to your presence as he wants to show it. Your hand lands on the obvious tent in front of you, but you take your time. You palm his cock through his trousers, trying to feel his shaft and find out what waits for you under the fly of his pants. "Girl," he grunts. Impatience twitches his muscles as he watches you. You can't help but smirk at the slight warning in his gruff tone. "What?" You ask back teasingly, looking up at him as you lean closer and lick over the obvious tent. The armrest creaks under his hold. Of course, he can feel nothing because of his jeans, but even the sight of you licking him through his pants is enough to make his cock jerk with anticipation.

A relieved sigh leaves his chest when you have mercy on him and open his trousers. The tip of his cock almost hits you on the nose when it pops out. The male can't help but smirk at the shock on your face.

"If it's too much for you, I understand, little girl," Boss says, not even hiding the mocking in his words. He does this on purpose, and when you scoff, he laughs. That's what he wanted to hear.

Your fingers are not even long enough to grab the base of his shaft fully. Your thumb moves up and down on a thick vein for a few seconds as you try to get used to the sight of his cock. He is thick and heavy in your hand, and there is a piercing at the top similar to the one he has in his nose. The gold glints under the lights.

"Did it hurt?" You ask him, still staring at the jewelry. "Worth it," he grunts, watching your hand moving up and down on his shaft while you scoot closer between his thighs. Your warm breath fans over the tip of his cock. It glistens with his pre-cum. The male smirks with satisfaction at your expression as you still stare at his erection. You are surprised and amazed. You've never seen a minotaur so close before. The base of his cock is thicker than your wrist, and the head is bulbous with the piercing hanging underneath it. The golden jewelry is soaked in his juices. "Come on, girl," Boss breaks the silence after a while, pushing his hips up a bit to pull you out of your cock-trance. "You will see it enough times if you get the job."

Both of your hands are around his length, stroking him up and down as you lean closer and let the tip of your tongue meet his cock. You can't even call it a proper lick, but it's enough to make the broad male grunt in front of you. "Girl," he warns you again, gripping the armrest of his chair. The wood creaks in his hold. "Hm?" You hum teasingly but don't bother with words as you twist your hands around his cock. Your fingers graze up and down on his velvety skin, smearing his pre-cum all over his length. Flicking the piercing with your tongue, you watch him exhale through his nose. It's dark brown, matching the soft fur covering his whole body. The hair at the top of his head is slightly darker. His horns point at the ceiling with a slight curve.

"Show me how much you want this job." His salty taste spreads over your tongue as you lick over the bulbous head of his cock, teasing the small hole. With a hiss, Boss lets his head fall back on the headrest. Your mouth is tight and wet on his cock, as you try to not choke yourself with his erection. One of his hands lands on the back of your head. His palm is warm and huge in your hair. "Fuck," the minotaur growls when he feels your tongue licking along a vein on the underside of his cock. His hips move on their own accord. He bucks into your mouth, making you gag and spit on his length. Your lips are shiny with your saliva, and his cock is soaked in your drool and his pre-cum. Tears run down from the corner of your eyes as he keeps you on his cock, making you swallow him some more. Your nails dig into the hard meat of his thighs. There is no way you can take him into your mouth fully, the tip of his cock is already kissing the back of your throat while your hand pumps him at the base. "Now," he groans with a smirk on his lips. "That's a pretty sight, no?" Your lips are stretched around his cock as you drool around him, and your eyes are teary and half-closed. You suckle on his cock, flicking the piercing every now and again as you gulp down around him. His cock pulses in your warm channel and his heavy balls twitch every now and again, ready to cum and flood you with his seed. "I knew you would look good with a mouth full of my cock."

Boss almost laughs at the sight of you. Not even twenty minutes ago, you were almost shocked at his request to suck him off, and now you kneel between his thick legs, cock-drunk. Saliva drips down in his shaft and your chin, making a mess all over. Your tongue swipes along the edge of the tip of his cock, and he growls every time you reach his golden piercing.

For a second, he plays with the thought of throwing you onto his desk and fucking your wet cunt until you fall apart on him, but he has no time for it. You on your knees, gulping down on his cock have to be enough for now.

"I'm gonna cum, girl," he warns you, not letting your head out of his grasp as he keeps you on his cock. He can almost see the bulge at your throat as you take him deeper.

Fuck.

"Swallow it down, and you have the job," he says between clenched teeth. "Show me how much you want this."

Your eyes are wide and slightly red as you look up at him while he shoots his seed into your mouth. Your jaw aches, and your throat is already sore as you gulp, trying to keep his warm cum in your mouth, but a few drops still spill down from the corners of your mouth. His shaft pulses in your hand, and you are almost sure he gets bigger in your mouth with each spurt. By the time his cock softens, you are soaked in your own drool and his cum.

Boss cups your chin, tilting your head up to have a better look at you while his lips tug into a smirk full of promises. "We have to practice some more until you can swallow down everything I give you, no?"

- Masterlist Grimbrook Masterlist Patreon

[divinelolita]

need more hard dom Tom x m!reader 🙏like readers being a brat n gets punished..🤤🤤

TOM KAULITZ X BRAT MALE! READER

cw: bondage, degradation, brat tamer! tom, bratty! reader, spanking, fingering, mentions of overstimulation, edging, brief mention of a 'sir kink'

a/n: hii! 😸 im too lazy to write aftercare but i promise you'd get the most ethereal, breathtaking, awesome aftercare from tom 🙏🏼🤗

"Baby, what on earth is going on with you today?"

Tom's exasperated voice echoed in your head as you both sat at a café table, Tom's cup of hot coffee whispering streams of smoke as he took a small sip.

You were...extremely difficult today. You were acting so rude, childish, and overall just a huge brat! He didn't understand...you were almost never like this. When you didn't immediately answer, your bottom lip sticking out further, he let out a small hum.

"Hmm? Answer me. I know you heard me." He demanded softly, watching your eyebrows furrow as you let out a little whine. He took in a deep inhale, he could feel the frustration and anger building up inside him. Lord, all he wanted was an answer.

When you kicked his leg under the table a little, he hissed softly in pain, his jaw clenching a little. Your pout almost faltered into a smirk, you knew you were getting on his nerves now!

"...I'm getting impatient, angel. Please, tell me what-" He began slowly, a hint of warning in his voice. He softly reached over the table to try to grasp your hand. His eyes widened a little as you swatted his hand away, followed by a, "Shut up!"

Oh. Oh.

"...that's it. Get in the fucking car." Tom ground out as he slammed his coffee mug on the table, little splatters of the beverage falling on the table as he stood up and stalked over to his car, starting it up. Your lips quirked into a small smile, it worked. But at what cost...

"You think you can act like that? Huh? I guess I have to knock some fuckin' respect in you."

Tom huffed as his hands roughly gripped your hips, pulling them to you were laying over his lap. You whined, hands struggling against the bindings on your wrists that were connected to the bedpost. You swallowed shakily, you couldn't see him. You didn't know what to prepare for!

"Stupid little slut...you just had to piss me off, huh?"

He murmured, moreso to himself as he firmly pressed down on your lower back, causing your thighs to tremble and for your ass to raise up in the air ever so slightly.

You yelped as a sharp, harsh spank was landed across your ass, a painful burn spreading across your skin as it turned a bright pink hue. You whimpered loudly as you squirmed in Tom's lap, yet his strong, large hand firmly took hold of your hip.

"Uh-uh. Bad boy. Stay still." He demanded as he left another harsh swat against your already burning flesh, making you yelp. Your thighs shook as you felt a familiar throbbing in your lower abdomen.

"Sir.." You hiccuped quietly. You felt his strong hand sliely massage your throbbing ass before he plants another smack over your cheek, yet it's softer than the past two.

The smacks continued until you were a sobbing mess in his lap, squirming and whimpering , repeating "I'msorryI'msorryI'msorry" or "I won't do it again!" under your breath between sobs.

"I got'cha." He whispered quietly, his soft words instantly relaxing your tensed muscles. You tried to look over your shoulder as you heard a bottle lid pop, yet he tugged on your hair roughly back around. You whimpered, yet obeyed. What choice did you have?

You gasped as you felt a thick, cold finger gently run up and down your hole, circling it slowly before pushing in. A painful yet pleasurable spark ran through you as his lubed finger slowly pushed inside, a small whine escaping your lips.

He hummed, placing a small kiss to your plump ass as he began to croon his long finger inside you, trying to find the spot that has you writhing against him. When his calloused fingertip eventually found the spongy material of your prostate, your whole body jerked as you nearly screamed.

"There- right there, sir!" You pleaded as your hands cxlenched into fists against the ropes around your wrists. You heard him chuckle behind you softly, you could practically hear the smirk on his voice.

"Such a needy whore..." He whispered as he squirted a little more lube over your hole before pressing a second finger in. He smirked as he heard you hiss, the sting burning yet so euphoric feeling at the same time. His thick, long digits began to curl inside you, fingertips rubbing your prostate with expert precision.

You were sobbing loudly, hips grinding desperatley into Tom's lap as he fingered you, it felt so fucking good! You felt a knot tie in your stomach, your prostate throbbing roughly against Tom's fingers.

As soon as he felt you begin to clench down on his fingers, he quickly pulled them out of your tight hole. He laughed quietly as you whined and gasped at the loss, crying loudly as you hiccuped.

"Awh...my poor baby. Only good boys can cum, and you have to prove you should be able to...have you sobbing in my lap begging to cum, like the pathetic little thing you are."

He purred, raising a firm eyebrow. "Or maybe that's exactly what I'll do. Have you cum over and over until you're a dumb, drooling mess. Doesn't that sound fun?"

He cooed as his slick fingers slowly pushed back inside you. You gasped, whining as your hips bucked. You wondered which punishment rout Tom would go down...