#his thighs are too damn much for this weak individual to take | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

meownotgood · 2 years ago

Text

rosemary. / hayakawa aki x fem!reader, 18+, smut, handjob, overstimulation, edging, sub aki

this work contains explicit content intended for 18+ individuals. please read the tags and do not interact if you are a minor.

Aki came home from work utterly exhausted, so when you told him to relax, pushed him into the loveseat, and asked to let you take care of him, he wasn't going to object. Truthfully, he was needy for you all day, counting down the minutes until he'd get to come home to you, and fantasizing instead of focusing on his job.

This wasn't exactly how he imagined things going, though. Greedy hands tied behind his back, bound at the wrists by his own tie, preventing him from touching you or himself. Teased and edged by you for the past hour, rendering him a complete mess.

Aki gasps, his hips squirming, but when you take your hand off of him, he settles with a desperate and frustrated exhale of breath. "Please," He begs sweetly, his voice raspy and strained, high-pitched and desperate. God, he's adorable like this, begging for you to touch his cock more.

Aki didn't bother to change out of his work clothes, nor did you give him an opportunity to. His hair is messy but still up in its topknot, showing off the blush that covers his cheeks and the tips of his pierced ears. His slacks and boxers are pulled down to his thighs, his suit jacket is falling off his shoulders, and his dress shirt is unbuttoned just enough to expose his chest and the dip of his collar bones.

The loveseat is a bit confined as is, but with his legs spread out wide for you, you're given even less space beside him. You're nearly sitting on the arm of the chair, pressed up close to Aki. You can feel the heat radiating off his body, hear each breath he takes in and every subtle whimper that leaves his mouth.

When your touch finally returns to him, you don't give him everything he wants right away. You trail a single finger up his cock, circling the tip. You feel it twitch and Aki bites back a moan, tugging his wrists at his restraints to no avail, whining your name so faintly you hardly heard it. He's trying his best to stay quiet, but he still groans when your hand wraps around his dick, rutting his hips into your touch.

His pretty cock is leaking so much. He's so hard, so sensitive, cock dribbling pre-cum all over your fingers and all over himself. Your knuckles are sticky and soaked, his thighs and the fabric of his pants are filthy. You stroke him once, echoing a slick, wet sound, before your hand trails up, rubbing the tip with your palm, fingertips playing with his slit.

"Ah! Stopstopstopstop," Aki cries out, his head tossing back, his fingernails digging into his palms and his teeth biting down on his bottom lip in an attempt to keep his composure. "Slow down, slow down, too much… I can't, p-please…"

You take your hand off of him and give him a second to calm down. He's panting, mouth parted, eyelashes heavy and fluttering. His dick is so damn sensitive from the constant teasing and from not being able to cum for so long. He wants your touch badly, needs it, but he's so overwhelmed he can hardly stand himself, so dizzy he feels like he's high.

"You okay?" You ask him gently, whispering into the shell of his ear.

Aki nods, swallowing before he speaks. "Y-yeah," His voice is weak, cracking slightly, despite the fact that he tries to keep it sounding resolute. "I can take it. Keep going."

You oblige, but when you're touching him again, you're stroking his cock slowly and leisurely with an open grip. You're taking your time, not giving him too much, but it feels like you're not giving him enough. It's agonizing, and Aki is so desperate for more friction he can't stop himself. He thrusts into your hand, grinding his dick on your palm, moaning through shaky breaths.

His whimpers are getting louder and louder and fuck, his roommates are still in the other room. They should be sleeping by now, but he needs to be quiet, otherwise he's going to end up waking them. You grab his chin firm, tilting his head to the side and towards you, silencing him with a hurried kiss.

It's messy, and Aki's mouth parts obediently, allowing you to shove your tongue down his throat. His noises become muffled as he moans into your mouth. Your free hand holds the back of his neck, pressing him into you, further deepening the kiss. All the while, you're jerking him off, gripping his dick tighter.

When you pull away, you trail kisses down his jaw. Aki isn't sure what to focus on, melting between the feeling of your soft lips on his skin, on his neck, over his Adam's apple, and your hand toying with his pretty cock. Your mouth moves to his ear, kissing it, nibbling at his earring. You whisper, "Shhh, shhh," into his ear to quiet him down, but he hardly notices.

"Don't st-stop baby, don't stop," Aki begs breathlessly. He's fidgeting so much, and his cock is throbbing, just as hard as his own heartbeat pounding in his chest. He's getting close again, his breathing ragged. You promptly take your hand away before he has the chance to ride out his high.

Aki lets out a high-pitched, loud whine, and your hand immediately flies to cover his mouth. His whimpers are muffled by your palm, and his gaze is pleading when he stares at you, pupils blown and pooled with need.

You keep your voice as strict as possible when you demand, "You need to stay quiet, otherwise I won't keep touching you. Can you do that?"

You've stopped stroking him, but Aki still thrusts up slowly into your grip. His heart skips a beat at you bossing him around. The bridge of his nose crinkles in frustration, but he nods.

You take your palm away from his mouth, but instantly grab his face to keep him looking at you. He's covered in beads of sweat and a bright red flush. His eyebrows are furrowed, his lips are quivering, his face is contorted in pleasure and desire. To say he looks desperate is an understatement.

You ask him, "How bad do you wanna cum?"

"Really, really bad…" Aki murmurs, and he sounds like he can barely speak, stumbling over every syllable. "P-Please… please let… m-me. I wanna cum for you."

Little, pent-up tears are welling in the corners of his eyes, and Aki rubs his bound wrists together in restlessness. Fuck, he sounds so perfect when he begs, when he says please, when he wants to cum for you. He's normally so professional and composed; you're the only one who gets to see him like this, needy and pleading with his dick in your hand. You're the only one who can control his pleasure, and there's no way you can resist him for long.

Finally, finally you start touching him again, and he's too far gone, fucking into your grip shamelessly, moaning like you didn't just tell him to quiet down, "A-ah! Holy sh-shit, f-feels so good…"

"Aki, shhh."

Yeah, he's not even paying attention at this point. Actually, hearing you say his own name just spurs him on further. He's whining again and again, his moans so pretty and a perfect contrast to the normally deep tone of his voice.

"Oh my God, I'm gonna cum, baby, please-"

All Aki can think about is how good it feels, how sensitive his dick is, how badly he needs to cum, and when you take your hand away again, he's unable to stop himself this time. There was no way he could, even if he wanted to. Not when he needs to cum this bad.

His pleasure boils over and he's chanting your name between broken moans as he cums untouched, without your hand on him. He's squirming in his seat, panting, cumming all over his thighs and his pants, cum dripping down his cock.

He came so hard, so much, but you hardly give him any time to recuperate. Your hand returns to wrap around his dick. You jerk it up and down until he's fully hard again, getting the entire length filthy and smeared with his cum.

Aki just barely manages to choke out, "What're you…?"

He trails off, out of breath, and you smile.

"Did you think you were gonna get off that easy?"

To be honest, he thought so, but after how much you teased him already, he should have known better. But cumming without your hand on him felt unsatisfying, and he's already hard again, his mind already swimming with thoughts of you giving him more.

You can go another round for me, can't you?

So, this is what you meant by taking care of him, huh?

#aki hayakawa x reader #aki hayakawa x you #aki hayakawa smut #csm x reader #chainsaw man x reader #chainsaw man smut #aki hayakawa #aki x reader

606 notes · View notes

doflamingosstrings · 3 years ago

Text

This is one of my more popular fics on Ao3 so I decided to post to here as well! I was extremely down bad when I wrote this so that’s why it’s so long, but enjoy!

-Luffy x F Reader

-WordCount: ~5,000

It began after a night of partying and drinking with the crew.

You had all come back from quite the adventure, and with your success, you all decided to celebrate.

You sat on the deck of the sunny, looking over your shoulder at the sea.

It seemed to sparkle against the moonlight as the water contoured and splashed throughout the sea, and against the ship.

The endless ocean seemed to keep you in a trance, as the waves rose and dipped in the decidedly everlasting distance.

Your hand gripped the cup that was on the ground and lifted it up to your lips.

A refreshing taste had hit your pallet and a sigh had left your lips.

You closed your eyes, and a moment later you felt a presence.

Your eyes didn’t open as you felt no violent intent, maybe the individual was just passing by.

You waited for a few moments, the same presence still upon you, but it had gotten closer as the moments passed.

You decided to open an eye, and you were instantly met with your captain’s face inches from yours.

Your eyes widened slightly, a smile starting to appear on your face, but you kept your feelings under control.

You don't know exactly when it started, but you had formed some kind of a crush on your captain.

There was just something about his endless energy and heartfelt smiles that had you wrapped around his finger.

You decided not to let these feelings show, Luffy never felt like the type to have romantic feelings anyways, but at this moment, hiding your feelings may be harder than you thought.

Your heart fluttered as you looked over his features, his face closer than you had expected. You noted the scar on his cheek, his soft eyelashes, and his jet black hair that had found itself in his face.

“Luffy?” you asked as he smiled blankly at you. “What’s up, you need something?” you asked as you set your drink down on the deck.

“Nah, Sanji noticed you weren't around so I went to look for you!” he said happily. Luffy was sitting in front of you now, sitting up tall with his legs crossed. No one was around on the part of the deck you were beside you and now Luffy.

“You sure you don’t wanna hang out with the others or anything, I'm not doing much over here.” You said, leaning back on the railing on the edge of the boat.

“Yup! I missed you Y/n!” Luffy said, leaning closer to you, ever so slightly. The smallest tinge of pink had appeared on your cheeks at his words. You should have expected this kind of forwardness from your captain, but you couldn't help but feel happy about his words.

“So, how are you feeling now? I know that last fight must have taken a lot out of you.” You asked, not being able to meet his gaze entirely.

Luffy moved to your left, now sitting right next to you.

“It did kinda tire me out, but I’m good now! Especially because of all the meat Sanji made for me!” he said. And looked up into the sky. You looked back at his face, his gaze seemed hopeful yet, timid in a way. Like he was unsure of something, which was unusual for your outgoing captain.

You opened your mouth to speak, but you were cut off by Luffy’s words instead.

“I feel way better now that I’m around you though,” he said, and this time, you couldn't hide your blush. Luffy's eyes had met yours, and he noticed your face.

Luffy moved closer to you, his face now dangerously close to yours.

“You look cute like that y’now!” he said and put a hand on top of yours, only causing your blush to become more apparent.

You didn't know what to say, the unrequited crush that you had gained sometime along your journey, had it been noticed? Does he feel the same way, or was he just trying to tease you?

The questions swimming in your head were answered as a pair of lips met yours.

You felt your heart flutter, it was beating out of your chest. The object of your fantasies was right here, his lips connected to yours, and what fantasies they were.

You felt a heat swell between your legs as you moved to deepen the kiss between the two of you.

You felt a bite against your lip as you opened your mouth ever so slightly, Luffy taking this opportunity to invade the inside of your mouth. You felt a hand on your side as you were pulled closer to your captain, the kiss only deepening more.

You were now effectively sitting in your captain’s lap, one hand sliding under your shirt the other on your cheek.

Your lips parted from each other, but only for a moment, diving against each other a second later.

You couldn't deny the excitement you had felt imagining a scenario like this, and now, it was actually happening.

Your lips had left your captains again, a moan escaping your mouth as he decided to bite at your neck.

“Fuck Luffy..” you said in a whispery tone as your captain continued to lick down the side of your neck, nipping and biting at the soft flesh.

You felt him smile against your skin, he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

You had made it very clear to your crew that your neck was sort of a weak spot for you. After a multitude of hugs and playful touches, the sounds that would come from you every time a foreign pressure would find itself against your neck was nothing less than erotic.

You would often be teased for this, but this kind of touch was something else.

You didn't know if you could keep your voice down as Luffy brought his other hand up, caressing your nape. His touch soft, his hands calloused.

You felt another bite, then a kiss and you had stuttered out what had been words, might've been a moan. “Fuuck.” You said as you felt him suck against your skin, You hated how sensitive you were, it made you so easy to figure out.

You felt Luffy’s tongue lick down to your collarbone, continuing to bite and leave marks against your tender skin.

You felt a hand on your breast and you let out another breathy moan. In seconds, your shirt and bra had come off, leaving you in nothing, your skin feeling refreshed against the cool air.

“Straight forward aren't we captain?” You asked, playing it off as if your panties were not absolutely soaked at this point.

“I can't help it Y/n,” Your captain said, a smirk plastered on his face as he took your nipple into his mouth, biting it slightly. Another moan had left your lips as you pushed yourself against him, grinding your clothed wetness on his leg. “You're just so tasty.”

Luffy's other hand had come up to caress your other breast, kneading it slightly as his mouth left your nipple with a lewd popping sound.

“Luffy..” you whined as you placed your hands on his shoulders. You weren’t the patient type when it came to sex, you knew what you wanted and you wanted it now.

Luffy laughed slightly at the whine, clearly amused by your eagerness. He placed one more kiss against your breast as you were flipped over, your ass in the air, now facing Luffy, as you faced the wide-open deck of the sunny.

Your pants were off in an instant, thrown to the side along with your shirt and bra. You couldn't help but blush as you felt two fingers rub against your panties, and just as you thought, they were shamelessly soaked. “Fuck y/n..” you heard Luffy say as you felt pressure against the only piece of cloth you had left.

You had bit your lip to keep from moaning any louder as a tongue had found its way against your panties, licking the wetness that had seeped through your clothing.

Luffy licked and pressed his tongue against you, seemingly trying to taste as much of you as possible.

Your hips grinded against Luffy’s mouth as another moan escaped your lips. “Oh god-” you shuddered as you felt pressure against your clothed clit, you bit your arm to try and not bring attention to your situation.

The others were still awake, inside the sunny. You knew just how loud you could be when it came to sex. You then thought for a moment, your mouth releasing its pressure against your arm. You bit your lip slightly, the thought of being discovered was far too enticing. Thoughts of the muscular swordsman or the gorgeous navigator taking your moans as an invitation to fuck on another occasion were entirely distracting.

Your thoughts were cut short as you felt your panties tugged down your thighs and off your body. Your wetness was dripping down your thighs now, it was embarrassing being this turned on.

You felt Luffy lick a stripe up your thigh, licking the juices that had begun to drip down, leaving hickeys and bite marks on the way.

“Luffy you-AH!” You had begun to say as you felt your captain's mouth against your bare pussy. He was now licking and sucking more aggressively than before. You felt his tongue move between your lips, slurping up what was dripping out. The noises coming from your captain's mouth were incredibly lewd. You felt a hand on the cheek of your ass, spreading you more open as if you weren't begging to be eaten out.

His tongue slipped up and down, your juices collecting in his mouth only for him to swallow and do the same thing again. You felt his mouth suck against your clit, catching you off guard as another loud-ass moan left your mouth.

You wanted to say something, tell Luffy ‘more’ or ‘good’ but at the rate, he's going you weren't sure if you were going to be able to form an actual sentence. You wanted to tell him how good it felt but your trembling legs and your never-ending wetness were more than enough confirmation that Luffy was doing a damn good job.

You felt him flatted his tongue against you, once again licking at your dripping pussy, slurping up every drop of you.

You felt his tongue probe the entrance of your pussy, the wet appendage slipping inside not a moment later.

“GOd-'' was all you could manage as you were being tongue fucked by your captain. “Thank god for his devil fruit powers.” was all you could think as his tongue pressed against the sweet bundle of nerves deep inside of you. You squirmed at the feeling, you desperately grabbed at nothing as your eyes began to roll back, not expecting him to reach that deep inside you.

You felt his tongue touch every crevice of your insides, it was reaching so far back, moving so aggressively as if you tasted better than even the cooks' food.

Moans were constantly leaving your lips, your volume now unimportant as Luffy’s tongue slipped out of you to lick his lips, swallow, then dive back into your depths.

You weren't sure how much more of this you could take, it's as if he was eating you out for his own sake, not yours.

“Luffy, oh fuck.” you managed to groan out as your legs began to tremble slightly. You once again began to grab at nothing, clenching your fists together as you tightened against your captain's tongue.

“Luffy, I’m gonna come, fuck..” You said, your voice absolutely filled with lust, the only thing on your mind being your orgasm that was fast approaching.

“Mmhmm,” Luffy moaned out as he heard your words. His pace quickened after a moment, as of he wasn’t tongue fucking you aggressively enough. He slid his tongue deeper and quicker inside of you, his fingers now on your clit, rubbing it sweetly, the pace not at all matching the aggressive thrusts of his tongue.

“Fuck, Fuck!” You borderline yelled, as your orgasm approached you. Another few thrusts of Luffy’s tongue and you were gone. You clenched against the appendage, feeling it angle itself up and down, trying to collect every drop of cum that you had just released as you rode out your high.

“Luff-” you had begun to say as you felt his tongue leave your insides. He swallowed after a moment, licking his lips at the taste. He gave your pussy another lick, making sure all your wetness had made its way into his mouth.

Your pussy was dripping with spit and cum. You were shamelessly wet, your captain’s spit slipping out of you, and down your legs. You didn't know what to say, you had not been able to cum like that in far too long, and you refused to end it here.

You turned your head back, looking at your captain, his face now covered in your juices.

“How'd you learn to do that so well..” You asked weakly, you didn’t think you’d ever gotten head that good.

“What do ya mean?” Luffy asked, raising an eyebrow. “I just wanted to taste more of that pussy, you taste really good you know!” Luffy said entirely seriously.

Once again, a blush had found its way to your face. “Damn that’s so hot..” you mumbled to yourself, burying your face in your arms as you slowly lowered your backside now that you weren't being used like an ice cream machine. Luffy had different plans though.

You felt hands on your hips, pulling your ass back up into the air. You looked back at him, a lustful smile on his face.

“Tired already? I've only had a taste,” Luffy said, licking his lips. You were about to reply with a witty remark but were shut up by two fingers invading your entrance. “Mmm~” You moaned out as your eyes rolled back into your head, it seems your words would be limited as long as your captain kept surprising you like this.

“There's something I wanna check,” Luffy said, grabbing your thigh with one hand and fingering you with the other. “O..k.” you managed to get out as you felt Luffy’s fingers fuck you deep. His movements were, strange, their goal didn't seem to be teasing or getting you off, more like, he was looking for something.

Luffy's expression seemed determined and curious, seemingly trying to prove something. You were confused as to what at first before you felt him rub directly and aggressively against your g spot.

“OH, my fucking god-” You yelped as you felt his fingers press adamantly against that specific place. Luffy smiled at your reaction.

Luffy's fingers were no longer focused on thrusting in and out, but now they were circling your g spot adamantly.

Luffy took his hand off your thigh and moved it to your waist. He stretched his arm around your waist, holding you tightly and securely. He shifted his position, his other arm now having more room to do its thing. You weren't sure why he had suddenly changed your position, even if it was only slightly, but then your questions were once again swiftly answered.

Luffy thrust his fingers into you sharply and deeper than he had before, the tips of his fingers curled up specifically to touch the different feeling section of your pussy. You gasped extraordinarily loudly, trying your best to fuck yourself back on his fingers.

“Oh god Luffy, harder!” you said, your hips moving desperately against his fingers, Luffy still rubbing against that specific bundle of nerves deep inside you.

The sounds of squishing filled the deck beautifully. The incredibly lewd noise only made you wetter, making it easier for Luffy to slip another finger in, which he did.

Your thighs were dripping wet at this point, as you were desperate to cum once again as you begged and pleaded for Luffy to keep doing what he was doing.

“Please Luffy.” “don’t stop.” “Right there! Right there!” “fuck!” was all you could manage out as he fully obliged you.

His fingers furiously rubbing the spot inside you that made you go so crazy all of a sudden.

He rubbed fierce circles against that specific spot, making you plead and moan for him to continue, you were so close. “Cum..I’m gonna cum, Fuck-” you said impatiently, and not a moment later, you came all over Luffy’s fingers.

He continued to thrust his fingers inside, letting you ride out your high for the second time tonight.

You clenched against his fingers as you came harder than you had previously, your body giving out on itself as you did.

Luffy's arm held you safely up so you wouldn't fall onto the deck. He turned you around, giving you a smirk as he licked his fingers sloppily. “Fuck that’s hot..” you thought for the third time today as you pulled yourself closer to Luffy.

“I’ve never came that hard in my life, you knew exactly what to do huh?” you asked with a laugh and Luffy just raised an eyebrow at you, again.

“Not really I just wanted to know what that weird feeling spot inside you was,” he said and you stare blankly at him. “You gotta be kidding me..” you thought as you laughed.

“I was just wondering if it would make a difference if I rubbed against that spot real hard, it seems like I was right!.” he said with a snicker, proud of himself for giving you such a powerful orgasm.

You smiled slightly, you knew Luffy could do anything to you and you’d happily take it. You placed your hand on Luffy’s chest, your other hand sliding off his unbuttoned shirt.

“Why should you be fully clothed when I’m totally naked?” You asked, once again sliding your dripping heat on Luffy’s thigh, spit and cum making his leg glistened wetly.

This time, Luffy was the one with a blush creeping onto his cheeks.

You grinned at your accomplishment as you took off your captain's shirt, throwing it similarly to how he did your clothes.

You smiled at your achievement, sliding down his body, a hand on his chest, another on the extremely noticeable bulge in your captain's pants. You slid your tongue down Luffy's chest, stopping once you got to his stomach, and seeing his muscular frame.

You placed a kiss right above the seam of his pants, a soft moan being heard from above.

You couldn't help but feel cocky at your newfound position, it was your turn now to make Luffy moan.

You slid down his pants slightly, both of your hands placed on the seam, pulling it down to reveal an erect cock. It bounced slightly as it was pulled out, and you couldn't help but start to salivate at the sight. You looked up at your captain, a hand on the base of his cock, you placed your cheek against the side of it, licking your lips as you gazed into Luffy’s lidded eyes. You smirked and gave his tip a lick, then a kiss.

Your hand starts to move up and down Luffy’s length slowly, keeping your eye contact with him. You felt the lust in his eyes, he was clearly holding back earlier, allowing you to cum twice before he had even paid attention to himself. You purred at the thought, now was the time to show him your thanks.

You took the tip of him into your mouth, sucking ever so slightly as you tasted the precum that was already dripping from him. You took him deeper, inch by inch, slowly bobbing your head up and down on his length.

You felt a hand in your hair after a moment, and as you looked up, you saw a different expression from the usual carefree pirate. He was lustful, entirely and desperately, and it was all your doing. You smiled slightly as you took him deeper, the tip of his dick touching the back of your throat.

Luffy was bigger than you expected, though you were sure he could make himself bigger if he really wanted to.

You were glad for your former experience with blowjobs, or you would have certainly have been gagging by now.

“Shit..” you heard Luffy moan out as the grip in your hair became tighter. You felt a wave of pleasure wash over you at the feeling of Luffy tugging your head down ever so slightly.

You moaned, the vibrations making Luffy’s dick twitch inside of your mouth.

You slid your tongue against him, licking and sucking the tip with every thrust, up and down.

Then suddenly, you lifted your head up, eyes meeting your captains. Luffy looked back at you, you felt his dick twitch under your grip.

“Fuck my mouth, captain,” you said, noticing the hesitance of your captain. “Don't worry, i can take it,” you said proudly, and not a second later, your mouth was back onto his dick.

“God, you are irresistible.” Luffy groaned out as the grip in your hair grew much together than before, the tinge of painful strain being drowned out by the sensation of your captain's dick constantly hitting the back of your throat.

He slammed your head against his cock, tears welling up in the side of your eyes as you weren't expecting him to be so rough with you so quickly, but you weren't complaining.

Luffy had clearly been close for a while now, judging by down desperately and erratically he was using your mouth.

Spit dribbled out of your mouth, the sloppy pounding making your spit fling and drip down your chin.

You felt yourself become wetter and wetter at the thought of Luffy pounding into you the same way he was using your mouth right now. You moaned at the thought, a long drawn out “Mhmm..” causing Luffy to quicken his pace.

“I'm gonna cum..y/n..” Luffy said, his pace even more erratic than it was. You moaned, as a way of telling him to continue and he obliged.

Your head was pushed and pulled, his dick rubbing inside you as your tongue dragged and licked what it could.

“Fuck, fuck.” you heard Luffy say as he held your head down onto his dick tightly, his dick far deeper inside your mouth than you had thought possible.

You felt a warm liquid start to invade your mouth and you swallowed around his dick as he thrust into you a few more times to ride out his high.

You felt his cum slide down your throat and you hummed slightly as he pulled his dick out, panting slightly as he let go of your head, the sweet tinge of pain being lost.

You caressed your neck, thinking you might be sore the next few days. You looked at Luffy, licking the cum that dripped onto your lip.

“Yum,” you said playfully as you stared at your captain.

You stared at him, still lustful and concerned that the night would be cut short, but you then noticed his cock was still hard, twitching in front of you.

“You think you can go for another round?” you asked as you crawled on Luffy’s lap. You were still dripping wet, your insides throbbing at the thought of being absolutely fucked. You slid your pussy against the tip of Luffy’s dick, teasing him ever so slightly before you felt yourself slam down onto him. Luffy’s hands were on your hips, fucking you as you sat on his lap.

The thoughts you had were gone, you're only concerned with the pleasure you felt inside of you.

Shit Luffy,” you yelped, bouncing on top of him as he helped you steady. Your hands were on his shoulders, your moans becoming louder than before, some moans being borderline screams after a few harder thrusts.

You took Luffy’s lips against your, kissing sloppily and deeply, your tongues dancing together lustfully.

You bit your lip, about to say something witty, but you were cut off by a voice in the distance.

You froze, looking over your shoulder, you didn't see anything but the voice seemed to be calling out to you.

“Y/n Dear! Where'd you go?” You heard the cook call out, and a blush instantly formed in your face. Though the thought of being caught in the act wasn't a turn-off at all, you weren't sure how Sanji would react to Luffy being balls deep inside you out in the open.

“I made a drink for you!” he called out and you could practically hear the hearts in his eyes.

“Oh and Luffy if you're out here you can have on too I guess,” Sanji said, his tone much less excited.

You couldn't quite see him from where you two were, luckily there were boxes of supplies you had yet to put back from your shopping spree in the way, blocking the view.

You looked back at Luffy, a blush covering your face and neck, but Luffy had a smirk on his face. Your eyes widened as you knew exactly what he was thinking.

“Luffy you-” you whispered but were shut up by Luffy’s movement.

In almost an instant, you were flipped over, ass in the air once again but this time, instead of fingers invading your insides, it was Luffy’s dick.

You instantly covered your mouth with your hands, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you felt the intense sensation of being fucked. It had been far too long since you’d had a good fuck which only make you that more sensitive.

“Damn your tight..” Luffy whispered as he tightened his grip on your hips and began to slam into you. The noises that were being made only made your blush grow deeper. All you could do was tighten against his cock and muffle your moans as best as you could.

One thrust after another, you were breaking apart. Saliva was dripping all over your hands as your attempts to quiet yourself began to break apart.

“So..deep..” you mumbled quietly as you bit your finger, almost causing yourself to bleed.

Your vision was blurry with tears, you hadn't had pleasure like this in a while.

“Y/n! Where are you, sweetie! Come back, I miss you!” you heard Sanji shout flirtily. You opened your mouth to say something, but Luffy decided to thrust into you incredibly deep and all that came out was a pathetic whimper.

You mouthed the words, ‘Oh. my. God.’ to no one in particular as the sloppy, wet noises only became more noticeable.

Luffy held your hips tight, pounding into you hard, almost like he wanted you to make sounds and be found out by the cook.

The only things that left your mouth were breathy moans and desperate whines as you felt your orgasm start to creep up for the third time tonight. Your legs were shaking and Luffy knew you were close.

You heard footsteps and bit your arm desperately. You heard the steps go up and down the deck, then silence.

“Tch, bet Luffy made her play some dumb game with her,” he said as you heard him turn around. Your heart was beating incredibly fast, but as his footsteps faded it became slightly more regular.

You turned around to see the man who was buried inside of you and all you could see over your tear-filled eyes was a smirk. You opened your mouth but were cut off for the eighth time this evening.

“When you're done, come back inside, or the food will go to waste,” Sanji shouted and all you could do was moan.

Seemed like Sanji knew you two were doing something out here, but not exactly what which was somewhat comforting. You weren't sure if the loud wet slapping sounds gave him an idea of what you two were up to but it didn't seem like he did.

You breathed out, not realizing you were holding your breath as you felt another deep thrust. Hard, deep, and fast. Your pussy couldn’t take this kind of loving abuse for much longer.

You clenched around him and finally let your voice out, moaning far louder than you intended.

“Oh fuck Luffy, you’re gonna make me cum again,” you said breathily, your pussy just about as wet as it could be as the deep thrusts of your captain egged on your release.

“Me too, Y/n,” he said breathily as his thrusts began to quicked. You tightened around him and bit your lip. “Yes, Yes, Right There!” you yelled as you came on his dick. His thrusts continued through your third orgasm and a few moments later, you felt the warm release of your captain as well.

He stayed inside of you for a few seconds after two, the more thrusts then he pulled out, cum dripping out of your pussy and onto the deck of the sunny.

You finally collapsed on the hardwood deck as you panted, feeling completely satisfied.

“You're ..so..” you started to say. “Good..” you managed to get out as you felt arms wrap around you. Luffy leaned you against him, giving you a kiss on the cheek. You cuddled up into him and all you could do was smile at what happened.

You laughed and kissed him back.

“Let's do this again huh..?” you asked and closed your eyes, your head leaning against his chest.

“Only if you say you love me,” Luffy said and your smile only grew wider.

“How could I not love you, captain?” you asked playfully as you two recovered from the night's events.

“Damn, that was hot.” the swordsman said as he looked out of the crows nest and onto the deck, seeing the scene that had unfolded under him.

Zoro stroked his dick, his thumb pressing the tip of it as precum started to seep out.

“What I wouldn't do for a night with her..” he said to himself, a hand brushing through his green hair, another adamantly stroking his cock. He smirked at himself, thinking of what he was going to do to you as soon as he had you alone.

There’s a part 2 on my Ao3 if you’re interested lol- ( https://archiveofourown.org/works/30691979 )

Anyways- I do requests so feel free to suggest some fic ideas!

#one piece #smut #luffy x reader #vinsmoke sanji #roronoa zoro #luffy smut

832 notes · View notes

yinses · 4 years ago

Text

—hawks ft. established relationship + dom!keigo + exhibition + overstim

rating: 18+ a/n: thank you so much to @ultimate-astridwriting for allowing me to be part of this collab !! it was the shove i needed to get back into the fandom. hawks has always been my favorite hero so i hope to do him justice.

➳ impatient collab masterlist

fist pressed against his cheek, he browsed over the sight before him, taking it all in without considering really any details. fighting a smirk, he cocked an eyebrow.

“i’m not feeling the color. change it for the other one.”

to be frank, he had no particular preferences for color, design, texture or any of that shit–though, he did have a weakness for anything with a pretty flare to it, the air of innocence that he loved to bathe you in with all the frills and fluff. however, it didn’t mean that he wasn’t fond of deciding which palettes suited you best. but he had a specific reason as to why he voiced that particular opinion of his.

sale’s representatives, all mascara-lined eyes and glossy lips, held your hands by your side in a surrendering position as they paraded you in front of your boyfriend as though this was his own private fashion show. and in a way it was, he’d spent good hard earned money renting out the area for a few hours. enjoying it all from his throne placed perfectly in front of the changing rooms, watching how you were dragged in and out by the forceful employees with him picking out what items you wore.

the clatter of the sale’s girls dragging you back in the changing room again, drew him from his thoughts. you were a flushed mess, struggling to wriggle away from their sharp nails while insisting that you could walk on your own. overall, you'd have been rather accommodating to his whims. but you always were. and as such a good girl, he would reward you for it. for now though, he couldn’t resist giving you a mocking smirk when you tried to grab him and failed miserably at that.

back to the prison of hands again, he noted, as they closed the door behind them and made a fuss over what you disliked and what he wanted. as more girls pecked at you to stay still while they taught you how to wear the clothing properly. outside, keigo waited patiently for them to be done as his eyes travelled from one end of the store to the other, looking at the fancy lingerie and wondering what would actually be perfect for you. but then again, to be painfully honest, you made anything here look good.

and then there's also another fact that he had to come to terms with.

he liked you best without anything on.

with only your bare skin, lying amidst the fluffy pillow with silken sheets tangled around your body. legs demurely spread, hands placed above your head and looking as though you were begging to be dominated. that was certainly the very image of excellence that any man could ever ask for. wanton eyes, warm cheeks, slightly parted lips, panting–ah, but you would gasp wordlessly as he’d stolen your voice many rounds prior. keeping his eyes peeled on the floor, the man shuddered briefly and rolled his shoulders back to remind himself that he was in a store and any further acts of indecency would totally be out of the question. especially when he remembered how you straddled him last night, thighs over his torso. sinking in inch by inch, throwing your head back when he bucked up a bit too hard on you–

"mr. hawks, what do you think of this?"

there you stood, with your hands still raised again, eyes watering under the torment of these awful ladies. biting your lips with warmth tainting your cheeks, hair cascading over your shoulders and meeting the body that was hugged by a pair of lingerie. strapless and curvaceous mounds of yours, covered with a brassiere. a matching panty, complete with small laces forming gathers on the hems as they trailed invitingly towards to garter at your thighs.

he stared.

and blinked.

only once.

"sir?" one of the older females repeated, raising her eyebrows. "…what do you think?"

trying to cover up the fact that his awkward silence was making the room uncomfortable with anticipation, keigo casually leaned backwards and crossed his legs together. his wings fluttered in reflection of his thoughts, rising and falling with each new epiphany. dark eyes walked all over your body, drinking in how your breasts were perfectly pressed together and how your legs trembled when his eyes stopped at the ribbons of the panty. finally hovering over your face, where when eyes met, your blush darkened and you immediately dropped your gaze to your bare feet. he smirked at that sinfully innocent reaction of yours.

coy today, were you not?

without skipping a beat, keigo drew out a card and threw it over to one of the sale’s girls, who fumbled as she tried to catch it with her clammy fingers. eyes still locked at your face, knowing that with his stare alone he was making you feel uncomfortable. and damn, he still loved seeing you squirm around like a virgin on her wedding night.

"i'm taking everything that she tried on just now," he answered loftily, still seated on the cushiony sofa, leaning his head against one arm and letting the other one tap rhythmically on the armrest. when the employees all squeaked out a pathetic noise of agreement, keigo allowed his lips to curve upwards in a smirk as he drawled out the next order; "charge what you need on it, i don't give a shit. and oh, and don't forget to charge what it takes to buy this section for another hour. turn off the surveillance too while you're at it because this area's mine from the time being."

needless to say, their faces instantly decolorized. but they wouldn’t challenge his demands. the brief raise of his massive scarlet wings was an unnecessary reminder as they stretch languidly without threat. he was a hero after all. who were they to challenge a frivolous form of stress relief?

he had no doubt that they had an inkling of what would occur over the next hour or so. but he was certain the gossip would get lost in the rumor mill.

hawks was a rather eccentric individual. what isn’t he up to these days?

keigo had never saw the staff evaporating and clearing the area within less than a minute as they closed off the doors behind them, leaving this particular section untouched for the next event that was about to take place.

it really did not make you feel any better though.

"little dove."

he watched as you jumped, realizing his attention was solely on you now. you raised your eyes to his again, locking eyes with deviously glinting ones. right now, at this moment, keigo knew how much power he held over you, and damn well he was about to abuse his privileges to no end. leaning snugly against the soft backing of the sofa, he cupped his chin with his palm and arrogantly raised an eyebrow when you shuddered under his disturbing gaze. you looked much as though you were lost and backed into a corner with nowhere else to go. keigo smirked; haughty, superior, dominating you single-handedly, and his other hand rose slightly from the armrest.

a single finger curled inwardly.

a low voice

commanding.

"come here, now"

you knew what came from that tone, but the words didn’t ignite the same spark as it did within the safe space of your home.

you only hesitated briefly, but it was still a second to long for his tastes as his lips already began curling down in disappointment. your heart rapped heedlessly against your ribcage, sent spiraling into an off-beat staccato as you quickly tried to alleviate the shift in mood.

never in your relationship had you considered denying keigo. not the man who laid out everything you could have asked for on a silver platter. it's just that-

your feet crossed the minimal distance necessary to appear agreeable though your face still twists in concern.

“really? …. you want to have sex …. here?”

fingertips grapple anxiously while your eyes dart across the empty but still very publicly accessible room.

“now?”

keigo already look bored with the exchange, digits curling once more with something just outside of patience.

“yes, now.”

his wings flex in consideration, yet he doesn’t move to rise form his seat. instead he changes tactics.

“i just want to show a bit of appreciation for all the pretty things i just bought you.’’

it sounds backwards … as if those should be the words coming out of your mouth not his. but the hint doesn’t come any stronger than the easy grin that spreads across his lips. he even makes a show of lounging back against the cushioned seat, body open in invitation should you dare.

and bite you did, teeth nibbling at the bait as you approach. keigo remains still, though his eyes dance with barely contained excitement as you gingerly crawl into his lap, fancy garments already rubbing enticingly against his thighs?.

the flap of his wings welcome gusts of winds and gratitude as his arms curl around you. the hand at your cheek tilts your head up to meet his gaze. it was always so easy for you to get lost in those specks of liquid gold. but now there was hardly any left to admire with the way his pupils were blown wide with lunch.

a shiver tickles your spine and you’re vaguely away that he’s kissing the line of your jaw, whispering soft words of encouragement as his hips raise to rock subtlety. it all left you shuddering in peaked anticipation as your worries melted into the recesses of your mind.

the hand cupping the roundness of your face stops you before you can lean in for more, the nose brushing against the tip of your nuzzling there in brief affection as he garnered the fraying tips of your attention. “yes?”

the fog of arousal abated a little at the question as your conscious thoughts swam back into the surface to input the code that would spiral you into your deepest desires.

“yes,” you verbally consented as you leaned up into him for a needy kiss. keigo swept his tongue out, meeting the the soft upper palate of your mouth with languid strokes. a rumbling trill greets you when you nibble in response. keigo eagerly chases you into a fevor of song and dance, building your body up to the inevitable fall he plans to send you crashing down in.

when he breaks the kiss, his eyes drop to the price tag still resting innocently against the swell of your bosom. he snaps it away from the fabric, uncaring of the threat against its delicacy as he tosses the flimsy paper to the side.

there were plenty more where it came from. and he was yearning to get the real show on the road.

“now then. how could i possibly show my thanks?”

nails dig into his shoulders for purchase as you rock traction into the firmness of his lap. keigo meets the upward curve of your hips with a sneaky dive of his hand between your thighs where his hand warms the skin there.

you expect him to dip right in, cognitive of the spare time the two of you had to play. but as a dangerous smile twists at his mouth, you realize this is hawks time, a reality that flows differently than everyone else’s.

“trying to decide if i want you to keep these on or not. “ he contemplates aloud, fingers plucking at the elastic.” i mean it would be a shame to leave them out.”

you nod mutely, ready to agree with whatever favored progression. keigo’s gaze narrowed at the silent insinuation “what? you want to make this into a quickie? but we have so many outfits to try.”

you already knew that, acutely aware of each and every article of clothing that had been zipped, tied or squeezed around your body. and you were grateful of each and every addition, would even gladly spend the next few weeks letting him fuck you in each variation against your shared mattress at home.

what you wanted now was for him to come so that you could start that private show within your own walls.

keigo chooses to go for an adorable pout, lips pulling on aged heart strings, yet managing to make them go taut all the same. he waits until your body soften from the tension, aiding the transition with slow strokes against your back and inner leg.

“one pair.”

it’s your back that losses his touch in order for him to bring a single finger in front of your face.

“let me ruin one pair with my come and we can call it quits.”

and you say okay. brining your pelvis back into an enticing dance as you meld that pout into an eager kiss. you were already dressed for the occasion and had all the tips and tricks in your inventory to help him reach his goal. one easy step and you could be on your way.

how naive you still were.

eight pair now. he’d brought you near completion just as many times before halting the grind of your hips with a frown. he mad for a rather convincing curator, inspecting each and every pair of to the finest thread.

‘too blue.’

‘too much lace.’

‘it just doesn’t feel right. ‘

‘why don’t we try something else?’

true to his word, keigo had been determined to find the perfect pair to meet him at the edge of nirvana, and dragged you from one painstakingly near orgasm to the next along the way.

"stop."

you whimpered desperately, pressing your forehead against his shoulder as you forced yourself to remain seated with him throbbing deeply within you. pulsing, hot, too hot. scorching you inwardly and causing strange sensations to sear through your veins. his hands were still on the armrest, they were not on you, they were not driving you crazy with their constant teasing and whatnot this time. because he was not doing anything to make you this crazy when you were already this crazy for him.

his lips smirked against the shell of your ear, a moist tongue peeking out to leave a wet trail. you fought every inch of yourself to stop your hips from moving again. because of his command, you could not move. you could not bring yourself to move. simply because it was his desire and you could not deny him.

"close?" he murmured darkly into your ear, wispy breath tickling your neck. making a sharp sensation run down your spine, forcing you to arch against him and pressing your bare breasts against his chest. he knew it, he knew that he drove you this wanton for him, all desperate and wanting more.

and yes, you were too close.

too close until one more move, he could make you topple over the chasm of ecstasy without even doing anything to you.

"hmm," he whispered this time, continuing his words with a foreboding edge as his lips brushed against your neck, against your ear, over your cheeks and teeth lightly nipping at your bottom lip. making you try to kiss him, but he pulled away just like that and watched in sadistic satisfaction when you gave an exasperated groan. "i was too. and then i saw a pretty olive green peeking out of that pile over there."

there was hardly any vigor left in you to groan.

you pressed your forehead against his slick neck, letting your warm gasps leave his skin, as your head desperately twisted in pinpricks of denied pleasure at his command. it was all a game, one that you could end with a single uttered word from your lips. but you’d never been a quitter, something keigo admired in you. his desires took you on erotic journeys you would have never dared to attempt in prior relationships. perhaps you were becoming just as debauched as he was.

there probably wasn’t even fabric of that color lying around and if there was it they weren’t within his eyesight. keigo was painfully teasing you with this, building up your desire to the most desperate extent because you could not stand anymore. and he knew it too. he throbbed against your walls, the sporadic pulsing sending shrapnel of lust into your loins, and you told yourself that if you were compliant to his orders, then he would surely reward you afterwards.

he would.

he always did.

"okay," he spoke up again, pressing his cheek against yours because he knew that you had if he didn’t end it now, then he wouldn’t get out of it what he wanted. bright eyes were still glowing deviously under the chandeliers of the store, making him appear feral. it provided a visual desire for you to nip his ear, to lick his neck and to kiss his lips.

"you can move now, dove. let’s finish this and go home."

what an alluring goal that was, twinkling encouragingly from finish-line.

you gulped harshly, feeling your legs too weak to push you upwards again. because he stopped you countless times and made a pleasure overload overrun in your body, turning your limbs to jelly.

a simple shake of your head was all the answer that you could muster.

it was either that or you would faint from the sheer ecstasy.

that made him smirk devilishly again when he looked at you, taut cheeks, lust-darkened blue eyes, a trickle of sweat running down his temple from the amount of restraint he was putting on himself. you felt as though you were opened, taken, torn from within by this man alone when he chuckled, pressing those sinful-stained lips to your forehead.

"maybe if you would beg just right, i’d bother to move."

whining, you shake your head as every cry you knew spilled past your lips. you begged, to pleaded keigo to move so that he would put you out of this torture. so that he could make you reach that blinding bliss, that your nerves would tighten and your toes would curl. so that you would clench around him tightly, that he could come together with you in this passionate endeavor.

too desperate, nerves tingling with his every wicked command, your shaking hands slowly rose and cupped his cheeks, feeling his soft, flushed skin under your touch and forcing him to look at you in the face. your lashes falling part way over your gaze. plump, bitten lips drawing closer and closer and closer to him and closer and closer and closer with every second. him slowly moving forward to join his mouth with yours in a desperate kiss, and you suddenly paused, letting only your lips brush against his, not moving forward anymore.

his eyes hardened when he felt your words form at his lips.

please.

it seemed as though playtime was finally over, for now.

keigo adopted a fast and hard pace, thighs jerking up to meet your earnestly with each slap of skin. the force of his thrust jolted you into a haphazard bounce as you fumbled desperately for traction and stability. each pull and push of your joined bodies was accompanied by a tremulous whimper as you gasped and groaned against the shell of his ear. keigo knew the sweet vocalizations weren’t completely for his sake, but more of the aftershocks of the broken damn as they spilled through the cracks of your lips.

he still hummed, pleased as his mouth latched onto a pebbled nipple protruding from the fine silk still managing to encase your breast. it was a combination of the gyration of your hips and his own weakening resolve that triggered his own orgasm as he finally let go with broken explicative.

your own pleasure was brought to you without chase, almost a reward for your efforts as you withered through it. keigo’s quiet praises wash over you like aloe, softening the worst of the burnings sensations as your thighs quake in protest. he nuzzles his face into the side of your neck as his arms encircle you and drag you down with him.

the already too small chaise had to be uncomfortable for his wings with your additional weight but he never voiced a complaint as the rose and fell over your sweaty skin. neither did you, despite the sticky resistance of his spent coating the inside of your thighs. at least you wouldn’t have to walk home in this particular pair. not that you planned on walking period as you grumbled a demands that he would be flying you both home.

he snickers all while peppering a series of kisses against your nose,” anything you want, little dove.”

#hawks x reader #hawks bnha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha hawks #keigo takami x reader #keigo takami #hawks smut

1K notes · View notes

theepisceswriter · 4 years ago

Text

JJK men based off songs in my sex playlist (Nanami, Gojo, Toji, Ijichi)

A/N: my poundtown post just hit 1K today, so I had to come through and deliver my JJK besties with some new content since I haven’t posted anything for them in a while. I hope you guys enjoy ! 💜

Synopsis: Sex songs I think go with the men of JJK + specific lyrics + a small Drabble based off of those lyrics, not using the lyrics as words, but scenarios kinda

TW: mature things obviously, long post bc each Drabble is 300 words+, roughness and degrading & public sex for Toji, mommy kink and teasing for Ijichi, 18+, MINORS DNI!

NANAMI: Dance For You by Beyoncé

Loving you is really all that's on my mind

And I can't help but to think about it day and night

I wanna make that body rock

Sit back and watch

Tonight I'm gonna dance for you

“Think of our bedroom as a strip club tonight.” Your hands traveled up the length of Nanami’s arms until you got up to his collar bones, using the elevated height the heels gave you to your advantage as you pushed him back into the clothed chair you had stolen from the living room, having thought this whole night out in advance to make sure Nanami left the bedroom the next morning for work beyond satisfied and rushing back home to you for round two. It’s what the man deserved after working as hard as he did all the time; a little stress reliever to make him forget about paperwork and the confinements of a work desk for once.

“No touching. I can touch you, but you can’t touch me.” You ordered, earning no sign of protest from the blonde, as you made your way over to the speaker where the soft sensual melodies were ready to go and infiltrating the room as soon as you pressed play. With your face turned to the wall, you could only wish to see his initial reaction when you dropped your robe to reveal your lingerie clad body, the red of the lacy garments and matching garter complimenting your skin beautifully which was only accentuated by the dim lighting of the candles you had placed around the room.

You turned around just in time for you to catch Nanami shifting in the confines of the chair so he could manspread his legs out and it didn’t take long for your eyes to find out that the erection pressing against his work slacks was the reason why. Getting down on your knees, you crawled over to where he was situated in slow movements mimicking that of a lion or panther with your back arched as far as it could to give him a nice view of your ass. A thousand blinding suns couldn’t take his attention away from you. His glaring gaze you could feel on you despite his signature glasses covering his pupils.

Your hands slid from his ankles up to his thighs, teasingly grazing at his erection with your breast making a small grunt fall from his lips, up until they were at his shoulders. Which you then used to prop yourself up on his lap with, testing the sorcerer's patience with each languid movement of your hips against his laps. It was barely a swirl and more of a ghosting feeling than an actual one, but my god was it still driving him crazy. And as if that wasn’t enough, your hands moved behind your back to unclip the decorative bra you had on and allow it to fall down your chest until your hardened nipples were exposed to his gazing eyes, discarding of it somewhere in the room as you threw it over his head.

“Come here.” He finally spoke up, broad hands grabbing ahold of your waist and moving you so your crotch was directly over his. He had enough of the teasing and dancing, he needed you right here right now. His hands roamed all over your body, even pausing at the meat of your ass to grope it momentarily, before his hands were trailing up your chest and stopping right at the hilt of your breast. Taking each of them into his large hands as he leaned forward in one swift movement to take one of your hard nubs into his mouth, gently biting down on it before soothing the burning sensation with his warm tongue.

“Daddy hasn’t been taking care of you like he should of been lately, hm? I’m going to make up for the whole week tonight, babygirl. Fuck you soo good until you’re begging me to stop.”

GOJO: On the Way by Jhene Aiko

Got me squirtin', take off the sheets

I want you to see it

You're what this pussy needed

“Come on, I know that pretty pussy of yours has more to give to me.”

You could hear the teasing smirk in Gojo’s mocking words from above and if the tears pooling in your eyes with each painful overstimulating thrust of his fingers into your sore pussy mixed with the override of your senses from nearing your 3rd, possibly 4th, back to back orgasm, didn’t have your eyes so blurry then you would’ve looked up and saw the exact same image of the blue-eyed man you were envisioning.

“I-I can’t Gojo, it’s too much,” But despite the whimpering and protests that left your lips the fast fucking of his slender fingers in your cunt don’t stop at all. At least not like you had hoped, the white haired individual pausing only to discharge a wad of spit on your clit to massage in with his rough thumb. Your poor pussy is too weak at this point to even clench at his fingers, but the picking up of your breathing and flushing of your cheeks is enough for him to know that you’re nearing the edge.

His fingers covered and slippery with your slick curve up inside of you warranting a sob to rip from your lips. His three fingers that work the inside of you as good as his cock mixed with the gentle massaging of your clit is all too good to the point where it's mind-numbingly good. You don’t even have time to warn him of the warm feeling in the pits of your uterus getting really to flood out before your eyes are rolling to the back of your head and you’re choking on any words that are trying to escape your lips.

You can feel the warm clear liquid gushing out of you, the insides of your thighs soaking wet with the substance and the spongy noises that infiltrate your ears as Gojo works you down from your high and milk you of every last drop of your squirt.

“Good fucking girl,” He praises you with a low growl, fingers finally slipping out of you for the first time in the last 30 minutes. “Are you finally ready for my cock now?”

IJICHI: Yeah, I Said It by Rihanna

Yeah, I said it,

I want you to fuck me tied up

The trace of your taste on the panties you had stuffed into Ijichi’s mouth has him salivating until it’s dripping down the sides of his mouth, wanting and eager to taste you and hoping that you’ll take some mercy on him and finally give in to what he wanted. His cock is red and sore from the cockring you placed around his balls, making sure he wouldn’t get any release even if you were generous enough to gift him with the warmth of your folds, but most importantly it was standing straight up at your attention; aching and waiting to see what your next move would be. It’s not like he had even an inch of dominance in his body to grab you and just take you, but even if he did he wouldn’t be able to because of the restraints you had placed around his wrists and ankles to tie him to the bed. The flesh around them red and sore from trying to do their best to wiggle out of their grip.

He wanted you so bad to the point where it hurt him, but he also wanted to stay tied up waiting until you were ready to use him.

A quiet gasp tore itself from his lips when he felt the ghosting fingers of your soft fingertips dance upwards on his thighs and gently rub up against the ache that was his erection, allowing it to jerk in your direction as a reflex.

“My poor baby.” You finally spoke up with a hint of remorse, your words cooing softly.

The dewy flushness of his cheeks from crying finally getting to you. Not to mention that you had finally reached your wits end and wanted him just as bad as he wanted you in this moment. Removing the underwear from his mouth you replaced them with your tongue and lips only for a couple of seconds before you were pulling away to say, “Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.” Your lips trailed from the side of his mouth down to his chest until you were at his nipples, toying with the sensitive flesh with your tongue to fluster him even more.

“I need your pussy.” His voice is hoarse and choked up from finally being allowed to speak after so long. Words that he would usually find dirty and too embarrassing to speak out loud flying out of his lips like its nothing, cheeks flushed with pink after the realization. “I need you, mommy. I need you so bad.”

“Good boy.” You praise him as you take your straddling position on his lap. The simple task of you taking his cock in his hand to remove the cockring already having him ready to cum. Rubbing his red swollen tip along your folds to collect some of your wetness until you’re satisfied with the pleading whines that leave his lips and sink down on him until you’re at his hilt.

“Mommy is going to give you exactly what you want like promised.”

TOJI: Anytime, Any Place by Janet Jackson

I don't wanna stop just because

People walking by are watching us

I don't give a damn what they think

I want you now

“Turn around.” Toji’s words were practically growled out at you as he grabbed ahold of your wrists and turned you around on his own accord against the grimy cold brick wall of the alley before you could even comply with his words. Too wanting and needing for the warm hug of your walls around his cock to wait for you on his own accord. It wasn’t his fault he was feening for you so badly to the point where he pulled you out of the hole in the wall club and had you pressed up against the rough brick wall adorning an alley that led to it. If it wasn’t for that tight skirt you knew he liked, the one that adorned your curves beautifully and showed off enough thigh that had his cock painfully hard the moment he saw you, then maybe the two of you could’ve had a normal night out as a couple, but alas you weren’t.

You could hear the rustling of the fabric holding Toji’s pants up come undone from behind you, the sound only making your thighs press together from excitement having been conditioned by that sound to know exactly what was coming next. His thick erection was pressing against the backside of your skirt in an instant, his warm breath fanning over your neck as he positioned himself directly behind you as close as close would let him. You teasingly wiggled your ass up against his throbbing cock which only egged him on more, the girth of his length slipping inside of you with ese before he could even fully crinkle your skirt up around your waist. The sudden intrusion had you biting your lip to hold back your moans, but that only warranted Toji to wedge his fingers between your jaws to force your mouth to stay open.

“I want them to hear every single moan and whine that comes from between those pretty lips of yours. Let them know that you’re getting fucked out in the public like the slut you are.” One hand came to your waist to press you back against him and give you no choice but to take every inch of his cock as he pounded into you ruthlessly like the two of you were in the confinement of your bedroom and not indeed in some random alley that anyone could come into any minute like the two of you had done.

With his other free hand he grabbed at a large chunk of your hair and forcefully tugged your hair back until your eyes were met with his feral ones, tears brimming in your eyes from a mixture of pain and pleasure that always came with his actions and soon saliva began to drip down your chin from the way he was forcefully holding it open. You couldn’t talk and warn him of the two strangers looking at you two from further down in the alley even if you wanted too, but your eyes moving to their direction instead of him gave him a big enough hint.

“Let them stare,” He growled as the force of his thrusts made your hips hit against the wall, sure to leave a bruise, “Let them see how you let me fuck the shit out of you until you’re a blabbering fucking mess.”

592 notes · View notes

pascalpanic · 3 years ago

Note

Ok so i read a little snippet of the new interview w pedro and something stuck with me. He said something about loving to read aloud so IMAGINE FRANKIE. Like I have an idea maybe you’re like a college student who’s cramming for finals and assignments and all overwhelmed. One night before an exam Frankie reads your notes to you as you lie against him in bed. Like this mans voice lulls you to sleep. One page in you’re asleep but u can’t tell me the man doesn’t keep reading since he thinks maybe even in your sleep him reading your notes will help you remember the material for the next day I’m soft 🥺😭

Study Buddy (Frankie Morales x f!Reader)

W/C: 2.4K

Warnings: crying, stress, mentions of food, alcohol, non sexual nudity, reader is studying psychology

A/N: this is.... the dream. like the actual dream. And I included ravioli the cat bc I love that little man :)

God, you can’t remember any of this shit on the page in front of you. It makes your brain hurt, and the fact that you’re studying psychology makes it all even worse. You’re studying what makes you tick, the reasons why you can’t remember it, and it’s endlessly annoying. Your eyes burn from how long you’ve stared at your laptop, hand cramping from the amount of definitions you’ve written several times in a desperate attempt to commit them to memory.

You’ve spent this Sunday at your desk, only getting up to use the bathroom. Your doting boyfriend, Frankie, brings you food, refills your water, rubs your shoulders for you. The final exam is Wednesday, but you’re still filled with anxiety over what you do and don’t know. It feels like everything you learned this semester went in one ear and out the other after the initial tests on the individual units.

This exam is important. The course is a heavily impactful one, naturally an essential knowledge base for the field of mental health work, and passing it with a good grade would be a real standout later when you’re applying for medical school. It’s safe to say the pressure’s on, and you’re feeling it squeeze down on you like a vise.

Frankie walks in again, about an hour after the last time, when he brought you graham crackers and hot tea. You lift your head to look at him, wincing as your neck crunches with the movement. Frankie winces for you. “Wow.” “I know,” you whine, rolling your neck side to side and working out the rest of the air bubbles that formed from staring down at the full notebook. Looking up at him, your eyes water from the constant light of your laptop, even with your blue-light glasses. “What time is it?” You ask.

Frankie sits on the edge of the bed, hands on his thighs. “Uh, it’s about 8 P.M. now.” Ravioli, his cat, lifts his head from where he’s curled on the bed. Frankie murmurs something and rubs the cat’s fluffy little head. Ravioli prances over to Frankie’s lap and curls up in it.

You groan and scoot your rolling chair over to him, his hand finding the tender spot where your neck and shoulder meet and rubbing the sore muscles. “Oh, honey,” he sighs, removing your glasses and wiping the small gathering of tears from your lower eyelids. “Can I run you a bath?”

“I don’t have time, baby,” you whimper, real heavy and hot tears forming as you look back at your desk. “A whole portion of the exam is gonna be on classical conditioning, and I can’t even tell the difference in the unconditioned and conditioned stimuli, and-”

As your words rise in pitch and the cry chokes your throat, Frankie pulls you out of the chair and into his lap. Ravioli nervously removes himself from Frankie’s lap, not wanting to be crushed as you two embrace. “You have all of tomorrow and Tuesday.”

“But I need to use tomorrow for parts of the brain and Tuesday for all-around final review!” You wail, burying your face in his chest and sobbing.

Your tears dampen his shirt but Frankie doesn’t care, he just wraps his arms around you tighter as you cry. He lets the tears fall for a bit, allowing you to get the tension you clearly need out… well, out. He rocks you gently in his arms, holding you in his strong arms and kissing your head. When the tears slow and your wheezes turn to small hiccups, Frankie gives a slow deep breath, knowing you’ll feel it and hoping you’ll mimic it. “You’ve been at your desk for nine hours, baby. It’s time to be done for the night. I’ll let you study a little longer, but I’m going to run us a bath. Okay?” He asks.

Nodding, you sniffle and wipe the tears from your eyes. “I got snot all over your favorite shirt,” you whimper.

Frankie shakes his head. “It’s nothing, querida. Go finish up and I’ll get the bath started.” He slides you back into your desk chair and rolls you back to your desk.

You wipe the snot onto the sleeve of your hoodie and look up at him with big eyes. “You’re too good to me, baby,” you coo, voice still watery.

“Just doing what you deserve.” Frankie stands behind you and removes the tight bun from your hair, letting it fall down and massaging your scalp gently. “Oh, honey,” he sighs as he sees you visibly relax. “That was tight.”

“Didn’t even notice,” you murmur as your eyes slip shut, falling back into Frankie’s strong fingers as they trace your sore scalp. He kisses your forehead and walks off to the bathroom, making you sigh and put your blue light glasses back on for the final few minutes of studying.

With these moments, you review things you already know, deciding to use part of tomorrow to focus on the classical conditioning components again. It’s incredibly basic, you know, and the fact that you don’t get it makes you even more frustrated. You break your own rules and stare at the blank diagram, trying to properly label them, only to feel angry tears welling up.

“Pavlov was an asshole, doing all that tempting to his dogs,” Frankie chuckles as he walks in to see you at the segment again. His small smile falls when he sees your eyes are watering. Helping you from the chair, he shuts your laptop and notebook and wraps his arms around you. “Hey. You’ll get it, baby. Taking a break and coming back helps, right? Didn’t you call that…”

“Spaced practice,” you nod. “Or dispersed. Either term works,” you sniffle.

“See? I’m learning from you. You’ll have your M.D. in no time.”

You give a weak chuckle and walk with Frankie to the bathroom, sighing as you smell your favorite candle and notice that he turned the bathroom light to a soft orange glow. He’d insisted on putting in the color-changing lights recently, and you have to admit you enjoy them. The tub steams with clear water and you turn to Frankie to frown only to see him holding two bath bombs. “Your choice. I know you like picking.”

This makes you finally break from your scowl into a small smile. You pick your favorite, one with pink and purple swirls and a rose on top. Frankie nods and lets you take it. “You do the honors. I’ll go get the bubbles.”

Before he can turn, you stop him and take his face in your hands, kissing him lovingly. “You’re the best,” you tell him with a weak smile.

“How about some wine too?” He offers, rubbing your side.

“God, let’s run away and get married,” you laugh and rest your head against his chest. “Yes, wine please, baby.”

“Be right back,” he smiles and kisses your forehead.

You squat and drop the bath bomb in the water, sighing as the steam becomes scented of jasmine and sage. The water swirls purple and Frankie returns in a few moments with a bottle of red wine and lavender bubble bath. Sighing, you stand to full height and stretch, your back aching from the strained position. Frankie helps you remove your hoodie, slipping it off and tossing it aside before removing his own clothes.

Frankie pours some of the opened red wine into two glasses, then drizzles some bubble bath into the tub. He turns on the jets for a moment, letting the bubbles foam to the top. He slides in once he’s fully naked, grabbing his wine from the side and sighing. “Come on in.”

Smiling over at him, you tie your hair back and slide in, sitting on his lap in the water and grabbing your glass of wine too. You rest your head against Frankie’s broad chest and he turns on the jets, swirling the warm water around the both of you.

It’s just as relaxing as he’d hoped it would be. You sip your wine as he snakes an arm around your middle, kissing the top of your head. You’re both fully naked, but the moment isn’t anything sexy or hot. It’s just loving, snuggling in the warm water.

Handing Frankie your glass, you slip beneath the surface of the bubbles, fully submerging yourself in the deep tub. God, you’re glad Frankie chose the deepest tub they had. Popping back up, you push back your hair and sigh, nuzzling back into his chest.

“Is this all okay?” Frankie asks you after a bit, having set his wine aside and wrapped both arms around you.

Turning off the jets to talk, you smile contentedly as his warm body envelopes you. “So good. God, you’re amazing.”

Frankie smiles at that and squeezes you a little tighter. “You deserve it. You work so hard all the damn time, and you’re so beyond smart. I’m so proud of you, and you need to be treated like this.”

The mention of your work alone makes your body less fluid and relaxed as you start going over your studying plan to make sure you have everything ready for the next few days. Frankie can feel it. “Hey. Relax. Do you want me to help you study?”

You open your mouth to say no, but the offer intrigues you, making you pause. “How?”

Frankie shrugs. “I could quiz you. Read your notes to you.”

His voice always makes things stick better. You remember things much better in Frankie’s voice, holding every little thing the man says in extra high regard. “That would be lovely, baby. Thank you.”

“Anything for you,” he mumbles and kisses behind your ear.

Frankie pours you another half of a glass and by the time you finish it, the water has become lukewarm. The two of you drain the tub and dry off. Frankie brings you warm and clean clothes, a pair of cotton shorts and one of his hoodies. “You know me so well,” you beam at him and kiss him slowly. “When this is over, I’m gonna give you the best fuck of your life for being so good to me.”

Frankie has to laugh. “I mean, I’ll never say no to that, but you don’t have to. This is what partners do. This is my job as your man.”

“‘Mmm, and what a good man you are,” you purr as you nuzzle into his body once your clothes are on. “Gonna go take my meds and meet you in bed, okay?” You ask.

“Sure thing.” He kisses your head and pulls on his pajamas, blue plaid boxers and an old t-shirt, a grungy old thing with a terrible graphic relating to the Delta Force.

“You wanna put some pants on?” You tease, admiring his bare legs beneath the soft fabric.

Frankie yawns, stretching his arms above his head, before shaking it and smiling at you. “Mind your own business.” He retreats to the bedroom, and you can hear him cooing to the cat.

Taking your pills in the kitchen, you return to the bedroom and smile to see Frankie snuggled under the covers, Ravioli’s whiskers sniffing at Frankie’s face. The cat stands on Frankie’s chest, investigating his face. When he sees you, Frankie lifts Ravioli off his chest and pulls back the blankets. “Get on in here.”

Grabbing your thick notebook, you snuggle into the bed, resting your damp head on Frankie’s chest. Frankie kisses your wet hair, wrapping his arm around beneath you and taking the notes from your hands. He cracks it open and sighs. “Alright, brace yourself. I don’t know how to say any of this shit.”

You laugh, resting a hand on his chest. “Do your best.”

“We’ll see,” he chuckles and reads over the page. “Do you want me to quiz you or just read to you?”

“Just read, please,” you say softly as you let your eyes fall shut, absorbing Frankie’s warmth and Ravioli’s weight as he lies down on your feet.

His voice is so soothing. It always is, everything about Frankie is. His voice is low and soft, only loud enough for you to hear it. He begins explaining the difference in the Broca’s and Wernicke’s areas, and even though he clearly doesn’t understand the meaning behind the words, his lovely voice makes them stick.

He reads to you as you get sleepier, the weight and exhaustion of your burning eyes bringing you closer to drifting off. Before you do, you catch yourself and open them, smiling at the cat snuggled at your feet and the rise and fall of Frankie’s chest.

“Will you read me the bit about the different components of classical conditioning?” You ask quietly, hoping his voice will make the concept clearer or at least more memorable.

He nods and his scruff brushes over your forehead as he readjusts his head. Your hand rests on his soft belly, the warm skin and tufts of hair leading lower. He’s like a human comfort blanket, and you can’t help but nuzzle closer into his body.

Trying to go slowly and understand the concept himself, Frankie reads aloud the differences in the conditioned and unconditioned responses and stimuli. As much as you try to focus, your mind slips away into a warm fog, only emphasized by the lilt of his deep voice.

It doesn’t take long after one last yawn. You succumb to the sleep, and your whole body melts into the mattress and into Frankie. One slow sigh tells Frankie that he has succeeded in relaxing you.

Careful not to shift you too much, Frankie leans upwards to toss the notebook on the desk. It lands with a slap, making you jump and startle awake. “Shh, it’s all good, baby, it’s just me,” Frankie murmurs to you, stroking your back through the hoodie.

That’s all you needed, a reassurance that Frankie’s got whatever it is covered. You give half of a nod and rest your head on his chest once more, returning to the slightly deeper sleep.

As your breath slows, so does Frankie’s. He just barely holds back a yawn, clenching his teeth so that he doesn’t make enough noise to wake you again. Once his eyes slip shut, he’s done for, and your little family is all asleep on the bed: you and Frankie intertwined, and the cat at your feet.

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @princess76179 @deltadebelleza @tacticalsparkles @queridopascal @wintermuteway @maievdenoir @dobbyjen @beskarboobs @sharkbait77 @day-off-inkyoto @darnitdraco @iamskyereads

#frankie catfish morales x reader #frankie catfish morales headcanons #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales imagine #frankie morales headcanons #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales #catfish morales x reader #catfish morales #francisco catfish morales x reader #francisco catfish morales #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales #frankie baby

225 notes · View notes

yeojaa · 4 years ago

Text

finders keep hers.

reads part two and three. a drabble about idiots in love because it is literally my favourite trope in the world and also, who can resist a fuck boy!jk and a won't-tell-him!best friend? c'mon! also, big thanks to @hobi-gif for being the best beta reader i could ever ask for. xoxo

pairing. jjk x (named) f!reader. rating. ... explicit. tags. smut with idiots! big fucking idiots who do dumb things! but yeah, unprotected sex (please wrap the willy and don’t be silly), a lil bit of dirty talk, some angst if you squint at the right times. wc. 2.2k.

“Baby.” It comes out whiny and breathless, a world away from the usual confidence that spills off of his tongue. He’s half delirious, grip imprinting itself into the yielding flesh of your thighs. Each noise he makes sounds like it’s about to fully form before dropping off, stolen by some bliss that seems to reside back behind his eyelids. It splits and breaks over and over, murmurs of your name and affection and whatever else he can think of in the moment.

You love when he’s like this. Love that you can bring him to this - a man on his knees (or, more literally, on his back).

“Hm?” Laughter crawls off your tongue, slinking into the heavy air and dripping into the spaces between you, like the sweat that creeps down your neck and beads at his temples. You punctuate the question with a deliberate roll of your hips, single hand splayed out across the delightfully firm expanse of his chest.

The noise he makes is sinful - almost beguiling enough for you to stop the slow torture - but you think better of it when he meets your motion with one of his own. It’s disjointed, far less measured than yours, and driven by a need he can barely articulate.

“Use your words, Kookie.”

His childhood nickname shouldn’t sound the way it does - like fucking in powder rooms and secluded cabanas. It should spring forward light and airy, more childhood friendship than unbridled twenty-something year old lust.

You don’t think he minds, though. He certainly doesn’t look like he minds.

“Baby, please.” He moans it so prettily - like he’s begging for all the stars in the sky - that you want to give it to him. Want to, but won’t, because that’s not how this goes and you know he’ll thank you for it later. He always does.

“Please what, Bunny ?” You’re really teasing now. You wonder if he’ll hold it against you when he’s back to his senses.

Back to being Jeon Jungkook, the man with everything.

“You’re being mean.” How he manages to huff it when he’s hardly lucid, you’re not sure. You have to applaud him - reward him - so you do, dragging your fluttering walls off his cock, and all but dropping yourself back upon it. It’s the first inch you’ve given all afternoon - the first taste of anything other than slow and steady wins the race.

The grip on your hips borders on painful, the neatly trimmed edges of his nails digging into the pliant tanned skin. Your own fingers readjust, tweaking his nipple in the way you know he loves, and he nearly flinches away before leaning heavily into your touch, entire chest heaving.

“Fuck me,” he whines, again, in that voice. You snicker above him, soothing the red assault lines you’ve left across his torso with sweet brushes of your fingertips and the occasional graze of your lips.

“I am, honey.”

You know he tries to hold in the pent-up energy that radiates through his entire body, buzzing from his toes all the way up his spine. He bucks beneath you, seeking more, more, more like the greedy brat he is.

“Nuh uh,” you repeat, like a scolding school teacher. “You take what I give - or I’m going home.”

The threat is very real - you’ve done it before - and he immediately stills, eyes flashing wide and earnest up at you. His thumb rubs soothing circles across your hip bone - right where he’d dug his fingers in only moments earlier.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks and you know he means it. You can hear it in the way he can hardly speak. He tries again, softer now, with his charm turned up to eleven, tongue swiping over the spit-slicked edge of his bottom lip. “Please, angel?”

One hand is halfway up your side, moving with purpose until he finds the sensitive edge of your ribs, touch trailing over where he can feel each individual bone. He repeats the motion once, twice, before pressing the broad palm of his hand over your right shoulder blade, splaying digits across your back. You both know how easy it would be for him to drag you chest-to-chest, but he refrains - just looks up at you with those big doe eyes of his.

“Give me what I want, princess.” He’s pulling out all the stops - dressing you in every pet name imaginable. “I’ll make it worth your while - make that pretty pussy all messy for me.”

You don’t miss how he’s slowly grinding into you, the friction against your aching clit buzzing in the back of your mind as he whispers his sweet nothings.

“I don’t know, Bunny.” You’re playing a very specific role now. The role of aloof prey-turned-hunter, not a care in the world in sight. It doesn’t matter that maybe - just maybe, it’s all a very carefully practiced facade. It’s what he - and you - both need.

Each time you don’t flat out deny him, he’s emboldened. He ruts his hips into you a little more firmly, fucks himself into you with a little more intention. You hardly even notice the coil of his hand until the heat from his palm is searing through the delicate skin of your neck, his fingers pressing into the sensitive spot beneath your ear.

You want to rebuff him a bit longer but Jungkook knows all of your weaknesses and exploits them like a power hungry tyrant. “I don’t hear a ‘no’ , baby.”

Not like you can say much of anything when he’s got his hand around your throat. He knows that just as well as you.

“Tell me you want this, too.” He doesn’t need the affirmation but he craves it from you - demandsit by dropping his other hand from your waist to the apex of your thighs. He repeats himself as he swirls his thumb over your clit, circling it with the lightest of pressure.

His grip on your neck even relents enough to allow an answer to slip past your lips. In his mind, he’s being very, very lenient.

You do your best to refrain. Frankly, you think you do better than most women would. But there’s still only so much you can take and a sharp, tantalizing pinch to your most sensitive bundle of nerves is not one of them.

It sparks an inferno through you, heat devouring every ounce of sensibility.

“Okay, okay!” You’re matching him in tone, petulence tearing off your tongue. “I give.”

He grins - that slow, cat-ate-the-canary thing that demands attention and steals hearts. The same smile he’s carried his entire life, buck-toothed and adorable. “That’s right, baby. I always win.” Triumph colours his words and you almost roll your eyes; he stops you with an abrupt repositioning, your sweat-slicked frame pushed off him in a single fluid motion. You feel like a ragdoll.

You don’t have time to reprimand him before he’s got you, crowded against your back with his face buried against your nape and his cock brushing through your folds. Your knees are kicked apart, spread obscenely around him. His favourite position, you think, though he’d claim otherwise.

“Jungkook!” You snarl, growing impatient with how he teases you, forearm caged right beneath your breasts and the other resting against the mattress.

For all his bitching and complaining, he’s being a real big asshole now.

“What - no more Bunny?” The words roll hotly into your ear, followed by the sharp edge of enamel as he nips at the delicate cartilage and tongues right below your lobe at the spot that makes you keen. He’s mocking you, dragging the swollen head of his cock against your clit over and over but never giving you more - never taking you in the way he’d begged to do.

“If you don’t smarten up right now—” It’s a hiss that leaves no room for argument. “—get the hell off me.”

Maybe it’s sixteen years of friendship or maybe it’s how hot you sound when you’re pissed off. Either way, it’s the last straw and he’s burying himself to the hilt, filling you up so well that you can’t help the way you moan, lewd like a well-paid pornstar.

“Better?” He huffs, somehow, in between his hard unrelenting thrusts that bounce you across his thousand thread count sheets.

His lips find a spot right between your neck and shoulder and he mouths greedily over it, saliva soothing the roses that bloom beneath his teeth. He does this every time - marking you in ways you can’t stop, placing a glaring neon sign that reads JEON JUNGKOOK .

“Stop talking.” Not that you don’t love his voice - not that you don’t love him, deep down - but because you can’t focus. You’re far too tightly strung from your earlier activities and your insides feel like they’re melting, molten lava seeping through your system each time he presses back into you.

You can feel every ridge and vein, anchored with nowhere to go by his weight. It’s absurd how he stretches and fills you - like you can feel him all the way in your throat. It’s too much and not enough all at once.

“Don’t get mouthy,” he returns, playful as ever. A small part of you wonders how he looks - if he’s got that stupid grin on his face - but you know you can’t turn. He’s calling all the shoots now, just like he loves to do. “C’mere, angel.” You’re up and back in the next instant; he’s holding you flush against his chest with ease, hips hardly missing a beat as he pulls you upright.

Damn him and his strength.

The sound you make when his cock drags against that particular spot inside you is almost laughable. “Kook .” His name is hardly that - more of a garbled plea. You briefly wonder if you look as stupid as you suddenly sound.

Satisfaction practically rolls off him in waves, suffocating you just as his right hand does, the left darting to focus on your clit. “That’s right.” He’s saccharine sweet, nipping and nibbling at your pulse as he feels it jump beneath his tongue.

You’ve done this enough times that he knows you’re close and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t, too.

“Come on, baby. Let go - I know you want to.” You can’t stop yourself when he’s whispering so nicely, coaxing you into a state of euphoria with his hand and his cock and his goddamn good-for-nothing mouth. You’re mewling nonsense, meeting his every movement like your life depends on it. You’re so close, tittering on the edge of an impossibly dark abyss; you think you might cry.

Then all at once, with a particularly rough snap of his hips and just a bit more pressure on your clit, white hot heat sears through you. It starts in your core and pulls through your limbs, dissolving your bones into nothingness as you reach your long-awaited high.

Tears are spilling over before you can register it, wetness heavy in your throat and the line of your lashes.

“That’s right. Cream all over this cock, baby. Good girl.” Jungkook never ceases his quiet words of encouragement or how he rocks against you, your name rolling off his tongue like a balm to soothe the burns he’s left behind.

Even while he’s chasing his own release, he never forgets about you, humming reassurances into your curtain of dark hair.

You try to return the favour - it’s an almost impossible feat - when his hips stutter and he loses his rhythm. Fisted into the sheets, your hand finds his, thin fingers coiling around knuckles that strain white beneath permanent ink.

“Kook. Kook. Please cum for me.”

You’re begging him in a way he can’t resist and he spills inside of you then, filling you so well you can feel it slick down your thighs as he rides out his high.

When he’s spent and satisfied, he breaks away and tosses himself at your side, rolling onto his back. He sounds like he’s run a marathon when he speaks, out of breath and giddy. “God - you’re so good for me.” He says it almost like he means it as more than it is - more than a casual fuck on a Friday night.

You’re up before he has a chance to pull you to him, picking up your discarded clothes as you move towards his bathroom.

“You’re leaving?” Why he sounds so surprised, you’re not sure but you’re grateful for the closed door and the inability to see his face. You can only imagine how it looks, framed by his just-fucked mess of hair and bathed in the afternoon light.

You emerge from the bathroom fully clothed, strands of your own swept into a haphazard braid that hides the mosaic he’d painted with his mouth. You’re careful not to meet his stare as you retrieve your bag from his immaculately kept desk, sliding it over your shoulder. “I have a report I need to submit tonight.”

“You can do it here.” He’s not wrong - you’d done most of your university coursework in his living room.

But that was then and this is now and it’s hard enough sleeping with your best friend without feelings getting in the way so you shake your head and laugh, nonchalant as you can manage. “You have coffee with that girl from Wednesday at 8 AM and I’m definitely not in the mood for an early morning tomorrow.”

You can practically see the gears turning in his head - the proverbial gun he’s about to use to riddle your reasoning with holes - and raise a hand to silence him before he can begin.

“I’ll see you later, okay?” Then you’re gone, half your heart in your chest and the other in the hands of your stupid, oblivious best friend.

1K notes · View notes

lovehotelreservation · 3 years ago

Text

Mea Culpa

Summary: To apologize, to beg--simple actions that Emet-Selch simply could not bring himself to do.

But as he emerged in your room after things have soured between you both, he is willing to make amends.

In his own way at least.

Connected to “Late Night Visit”

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: DFAB!Reader/Emet-Selch

ME WORKING ON THIS COMMISSION WHILE FINISHING UP WITH 5.0 🙂🥺😭💔 GDI WHY AM I NOW A GOTHIC GILF F*CKER !!!!

THAT SAID MANY THANKS TO MY SWEET AND LOVELY COMMISSIONER FOR THE CHANCE TO EXPAND ON MY PREVIOUS PIECE!!! --------------

No matter how acclaimed and revered by countless souls across the realm, the Warrior of Light was just that.

A single warrior.

A single individual whose power, strength, and tenacity served to protect the weak and reprimand the wicked.

But from your eyes, you couldn’t have accomplished so much without the help of your friends: The Scions, House Fortemps, and countless others. The time you spent with them, whether during the heat of a dire battle or a merry night of feast and camaraderie, was something you held so dearly to your heart.

Still, as much as you enjoyed the company of your friends, it was the still calm of your empty room after a busy day that soothed your weary soul like nothing else.

And as the weariness from journeying back from Yx'Maja to your suite in The Pendants, more than ever were you relieved to be alone.

Especially for reasons that you were much too annoyed to begin recounting.

Sighing, you were in the midst of undoing your armor, but the fatigue from today made even attempting to undo the binding components an even bigger drain.

“Need some help?”

You froze.

And then your teeth grit from irritation as your eyes shifted away from the mirror of your suite’s vanity upon turning around.

The reason for your weariness was standing right in front of you.

Arms folded behind his back, lips curled into a smirk, eyes glinted with amusement, Emet-Selch made his presence known as he emerged out from the shadowy portal that was conjured into your room.

There were plenty of reasons as to why this mere action immediately drew your ire.

From the past week alone, it was already a journey through hell as you traversed through Yx'Maja and fended off sin eaters while providing assistance to the Viis of Fanow with your fellow Scions. However, with the unwelcomingly present Emet-Selch insisting on commenting on every move you made and every word you said with the most smug grin on his face pushed you far beyond your patience.

On the other end, Emet-Selch had just emerged into your room.

As he had done all those many nights before that resulted in the two of you being tangled together upon your bed.

He was your enemy.

And yet you allowed him to linger between your thighs nonetheless.

It was something that you were far from ready to reveal in the slightest to the rest of your companions. Any hint of the ongoing tryst you had with him was to be kept absolutely hushed, which he was well aware of.

But Emet-Selch treaded that boundary all throughout your time at Yx’Maja in front of the rest of the Scions. By your honed reflexes from all the time spent training under Widargelt, you were glad to stop his wandering hand from squeezing your behind while you awaited for Urianger and Y’shtola to finish decrypting some text chiseled on a temple wall, your fingers immediately seizing hold of his wrist while your eyes shot his pouting face an icy glare.

From that moment on, you chose to outright ignore him. Any quip was met with indifferent silence, your expression blank whenever he attempted to draw your attention.

And you were in no mood to change that now of all times as you promptly faced your vanity once again, your focus returning to removing your armor.

“Now, now, is that how you treat a guest who just arrived?” He hummed with the click of his tongue.

You did not respond, only focusing on trying to work on a stubborn tie with your armguards. Though, without needing to look back, you knew his expression had fallen to something of a pout.

“Mmm--onwards with the silent treatment then, I see.”

There was no desire for you to be the bigger person on your end. If cold you must be, then icy you would become.

At least, until you felt the unfortunately familiar warmth of Emet-Selch’s body press against you from behind.

“Pardon.”

The heat of his breath fell by your ear, the sudden sensation eliciting a shiver from your body as you felt his nimble fingers reach for the tie of your armguards, undoing it with absolute ease. As the sound of your armor fell to the floor with a clank, he continued with an amused hum, “The sight of a celebrated hero struggling with a mere strap irritates me to no end.”

Your instinct had your body moving to flip around to face him, but the arm that immediately slunk around your waist kept you in place.

At last, your silence was broken.

“If you think sliding up to me like this is gonna get you off the hook, you’ve got another thing coming!” You hissed as you craned your neck to glare at him while your fists balled at your sides.

“‘Off the hook?’ But whatever did I do wrong?” He hummed innocently, only to then sigh with feigned exasperation. “Do you think us Ascians to be so committed to the role of villain that you think we cannot tease and please at the same time? I don’t ever remember you being this callous, sweet hero.”

Your eyes rolled. “Again with your remembering?”

“Again with your forgetfulness?” He shot back, his tone taking on a surprisingly biting edge as his gaze narrowed ever slightly.

However, noticing your astonished expression, his features calmed, shifting from tension to teasing as he reached for your chin, his thumb stroking over your skin as he inspected your face. “Goodness, you really must be tired from your endeavors, huh, hero?” His head moved closer to yours as he hummed, “All that tension has you so fussy~ Let’s ease those shoulders, huh?”

Without another word, his lips planted right onto yours, kissing you fully while his other arm circled around you, his hold around your body complete.

Your instincts made you want to push back at him, to not allow yourself to concede so easily.

Yet, the expert probe of his tongue into your mouth combined with his roaming hands as he groped you freely to his heart’s content now that the two of you were alone was just so damn hard to resist.

While the two of you had been plenty intimate up until this point, you barely knew much about him.

And yet, he knew your body like no one else.

When your mouths parted, the tension on your face had eased, your skin hot and flushed, your lips parted in a pant, all as your body continued to quiver from his hands fondling you all over.

Looking as pleased as could be, Emet-Selch chuckled wickedly as he admired your current state, “There we go--such a precious look on your face. Recollection can wait for another time--come hero, show me more of those lovely expressions of yours…!”

That cold expression you had earlier, that damned armor you were so focused on.

He saw to it that neither were in his way as he brought you over to your bed.

With your clothes soon joining his on the floor, your exposed body was for him to enjoy whole-heartedly. His lips dragged along your skin, circling over your nipples with soft suckles, kissing along your battle-toned torso, lavishing your clit with focused attention as his tongue lapped against your center.

The look on your face was far from icy at this point, now melted with pleasure as he continued his ministrations, furthered all the more once he was sheathing the full length of his cock inside of you.

Moments before, he claimed to help you relax, but the pace by which he was pounding away into your core was far from delicate, his hips pummeling you right into the mattress while his hands squeezed your breasts.

Mainly because he knew that an acclaimed warrior like you could take it.

Along with the fact that he had to make up for a week’s worth of lost intimate time between you both.

For as quiet as you had been around him, he dared not to kiss your lips, wanting your moans to leak out freely as he simply minded himself with marking up your neck as much as possible with kisses and bites--whatever would be hardest for you to try to hide or explain around your companions.

He would not have you silent around him.

Not when he still had yet to hear you refer to him by his true name.

Not as the Warrior of Light.

But as his beloved Azem.

#emet selch #emet selch x reader #emet selch x wol #Final Fantasy XIV #FFXIV #reader insert #Fic #super freaknasty writing

135 notes · View notes

sirensmojo · 4 years ago

Text

"KINDRED",3 - Tommy Shelby x Reader.

Summary: Tommy meets a librarian that he discovered to be the chief of an underground organisation. Needing man enough allies to dirty their hands in the battle against Oswald Mosley, he shakes hands with the devil. Feelings intertwine with business, a mix that leads to unalterable ends...

Warnings: Swearing, drugs, romance, drama & cheating.

Word Count: 5K

❰ Previous Chapter

*Shelby Brother Company Limited, Birmingham*

“Michael’s a pain in the ass.”

You and Tommy were seated one in front of the other in Tommy’s office, it was almost midnight.

You both stared at each other after your affirmation, the need to formulate words obsolete, when all of a sudden, a hiccup hit your throat.

“Wow.” Your brows raised, along with your free hand, patting over your chest.

Only the booze could bring them to talk, but they would forget everything the next morning, or that, they pretended so. Everything the other would say was rooted in the other’s heart, as a prize.

“I could maybe try something.” You calmly spoke, as if a flash of thunder lightning struck some idea into you.

You two had dirty hands and were capable of taking care of yourselves, but those past three, you got each other’s back.

Without knowing it, you were keeping a close eye on the business of the other just in case.

If the Peaky Blinder found something wrong concerning your business, he would take care of it, in the shadows of course.

No need to tell you he quite cared when he wasn't sure himself.

It was also working the other way, you had ears at each side of the continent, you what had happened to the Shelby politician without him telling you, and straightened back up every shaky thing.

“ ‘Bout what?” Tommy asked, pouring some more whiskey in the cup resting in your other hand.

‘The two partners trying to get rid of Mosley’ had become an excuse. The silence each brought to the other was addictive, and the days between each meeting only amplified that obsession.

“Speak sense to his wife. Given the situation, I think both the weak and tuff points of Michael’s scheme are her.”

Tommy frowned, thinking deeper about what you told. You weren’t entirely wrong, he doubted Michael would’ve betrayed him without the support of somebody.

“He was pushed to one side, a little push to the other one will make him think right.” Y/L/N got further.

An evening meeting was programmed weekly.

You started meeting at the library during the first week. Then, the Shelby Brother Company Limited’s office, catching the attention of another member of the Shelby family.

“You think it’ll be this easy?” The peaky blinder asked, sprinkling ash onto the ashtray that was on the table that separated you two.

“It’ll have to.” You responded.

Polly was the first one to confront Tommy directly about the presence of a very well dressed woman far too often in the offices.

“Her hair is nice.” She added, smoking on her cig looking intently at Tommy's gleaming eyes at the mention of the so-called “librarian”.

Because that was how he presented Y/N. A girl from an aristocratic family searching for exoticism and bought a library.

He and you were to work together solely due to his status at the House of Commons, none more none less.

But the Gray woman knew better, even if she refused to push the matter further.

“May God keep Arthur away from her, he’ll eat her for his lunch.” Pol’ tease before she shook her head at her own statement as Tommy coughed away this whole discussion.

(...)

Three knocks could be heard on the Gray’s room door in the Midland hotel.

The entrance opens, “Told you I’ll join you in a minute, Gin--” Michael’s voice stopped as soon as his wife abruptly pushed her shoulders to his to enter the room.

“What are you doing?” One of his hands was in his suit pocket, the other one grabbing the door handle.

She hassled to the phone, dialling a number without even glancing at the Gray.

“Gina?” Asked the man, looking intently at the movements of the woman, blinking slowly.

She refused to address him, waiting patiently until the person she was calling responded.

“What is going on? What do you mean our contacts were offered another deal?”

Michael went closer, and as he was sitting on the desk chair, leaning backwards on it, he started to understand what was going on.

“Anyway, we can still offer them to prosper durably, that man can’t say the same, right?”

She rolled her eyes at herself after remaining silent for some minutes, she was listening to the individual at the end of the line.

It was more than clear she was done with everything.

She wasn’t even slightly “happy” to be in the shit hole that was Birmingham as she, herself, qualified multiple times. The only reason she was here was that Michael didn’t want to properly betray his cousin.

He convinced her to come here and resonate with Tommy about a “normal succession”, but she knew damn well it wouldn’t work. Why would he give everything he spent so much time to gather under the pretext of succession?

Tommy wasn’t the type to give up things, for any reason.

And now that they were away from New York, their allies already started to forget about their promises…

Why did she even agree to let Tommy a chance?

“He didn’t fall for Michael’s plan. We will have to do it our way.” She seemed happy at least, to finally be able to handle the matter how she wanted to, which was the only good news about this call.

When the receptionist asked for her at the restaurant, she’d expected to be told all was ready there and that Michael would only have to give the order for the plan to begin. But no.

Gina hung up the phone before she lifted her eyes to her husband that was staring at her, patiently waiting.

“It was my uncle, some man going by the name of Haynes met with all of our contacts, offering them a greater alliance directly with the Chinese, without needing us as intermediaries.” She finally spoke.

The younger Gray looked away, clenching his jaw as a hand came over his face. He let out a long sigh, his body voicing his displeasure. But his wife’s hand came on his shoulder as she leaned on his back, and murmured near his ear:

“But. He says it’s looking like the perfect time to launch plan B, baby.” She grabbed his chin as she turned around to stand in front of him.

“He says it’ll show them we can also ‘bang’ if it’s needed. It’ll be like showing our hand, and in this case, this is the thing to do.”

One of her hands was on Michael’s thigh as the other was still holding his face so he was looking at her. It was a way to say “focus on me” without actually saying it.

As the man was diving into her brown eyes, it seemed she succeeded at keeping him from thinking too much. She gave answers before he could even formulate questions.

By his silence, Gina surmised Michael still wasn’t sure about the plan.

“We did it your way Michael, coming all the way up here to your cousin’s chaotic decisions. Things need to get in order, baby. And it seems like you’re the one that cares enough to do so.” The words left her mouth so lightly as she straightened up and turned her back to her husband.

“We need to go back to America as soon as possible. You promised our child will be born there.” She added, glancing at him above her shoulder.

(...)

Arthur and the boys had convinced Tommy to relax at the Garrison after a long day. Even though it was the last thing he wanted to do, he slammed the doors open to a packed place.

Ahead of them were approximately twenty women, all dolled up as if coming from the Eden club in London. Very short hair with the golden headband with feathers, embroidered pearls on their cotton dresses made it known they were from high society.

Some of them were dancing in the middle of the room, while others were singing on the counter zigzagging between glasses and bottles.

It was the first time Tommy had seen most of those people.

He was actively searching their faces trying to locate the reason for their presence when his eyes confirmed his thought. You were dancing, turning on yourself holding the hand of a taller woman.

You had on a black & red dress going down to your knees with a black and gold headband that flattened your hair, forcing your finger waves to frame your face. Your slow and haunting movements were wrinkling the fabrics, complementing your silhouette.

As you were spinning around, the fringes of your dress were flying in the air as well as your hair, adding to your alluring dance.

Your cheeks, certainly reddened by the alcohol and your half-opened eyes due to you boozing with the huge grin that illuminated your face, made Tommy’s eyes twinkle. As if it was a beautiful night sky full with stars he was looking at.

“Who’s that Tommy?” Arthur questioned entering right after the Shelbys head.

“Get in the room, I’ll bring the bottles.” Tom’s low voice ordered as he motioned to the little room near the counter.

Finn and Isaiah hassled to the room without wasting any more minutes, too appealed by the idea of getting drunk while Arthur leaned to his brother’s ear.

“Look at that butterfly Tommy, isn’t she lovely?” He asked after he caught the reason for Tommy's order.

The latter dismissed the discomfort with a rough cough, turning to his brother.

“What about you fetch the bottles, eh?” He simply put, and that was enough for Arthur to leave it there.

“Whiskey for the peaky boys!” He exclaimed as he patted Tommy’s shoulder. He managed his way behind the counter, after which, he took what he was searching for and disappeared behind the large doors of the little room he closed behind himself.

Tom stayed there, looking at you for some time trying to understand which one of the facades he had seen was the real you.

You were now sitting on your friend's lap, legs crossed, your lips were alternating between a long cigarette holder and a glass of what Tommy surmised to be whiskey knowing the character.

Giving up on searching for an answer, he turned his heels and joined his brothers as if nothing had happened.

(...)

Coming out of the car, you looked both ways before crossing the street and joining the large wooden door, a hand in your suit’s pocket, the other leading a cigarette to your lips.

You pushed in the door and were met by two pairs of eyes. A tall young white man, with a dark-skinned one, wearing berets.

Without second glancing at them, you confidently walked to the stairs at the end of the large room, making this place your own.

Your heels resonated on the cold hard ground, and as they did, each man in the building turned to you, staring in both awe and confusion.

Coming down the stairs, you passed by the three little training rings before you sat down at a little table in front of one of them. It was two men fighting, one who had a luxuriant moustache hiding his upper lips, freckles sprinkling his face.

He was screaming at the other one with a thick Birmingham accent, “Come ‘ere, boy.”

“Hit me! Hit me!” His tone was louder each time.

The poor man ahead of him didn’t dare to punch, which he certainly regretted after he received a strong right fist in the jaw.

Only a couple punches later the loud man succeeded at putting down the other that was wincing in pain.

“Yeaa” The moustache man exclaimed before being interrupted by one of the two boys you saw earlier.

“Arthur! There’s a--” He stopped dead at the sight of you, and you put your cig in between your lips as you got up, beginning to applause.

The sound resonated against the walls as no one was making any noise. You grabbed back the cigarette with your fingers and moved closer.

“Do you fight? I know great opponents,” you paused, feigning to think. “not so sure they will stand even for a round with you.” You clicked your tongue, tilting your head.

They both looked at you up and down for a whole minute before the named Arthur opened his mouth, even if still struggling to properly breathe, he smacked his lips as his hands went flattening his hair.

“Searching for exotism, love?” He grabbed the towel he was handed by a small chubby man with a hat. “Bet you liked what ya see.” Arthur decided to make it normal for a woman to come to sit and watch men fight.

“Indeed.” You let out, a curious gleam in your eyes.

He turned to the man on his side that leaned in his ear, murmuring something.

Arthur let out a deep “Hmm” before he got out of the ring.

He glanced at you and decided to keep up the talk.

“I don’t fight like this, it’s just for---”

“Fun?” You interrupted him, your eyes still fixed on his figure. His stare encountered yours before he put on a shirt. He grabbed the filled cup off the table.

“Curly, Tommy needs you in Charlie’s yard. Finn, you go with them.” He was pointing at the men and to the door up the stairs as if dismissing them.

So the man handed him things was going by “Curly” and the boy, Finn.

“What you doing here? It’s not some place for you.” He buttoned up his pants.

You scoffed at his affirmation, leading him to look up at you.

“I like some good fights, is that forbidden, Mr Shelby?” You came nearer, throwing the rest of your cig in his cup.

You were standing right in front of him, taking the bow tie hanging on the half wall of the ring and slowly led it to his neck. He took a step back, but you stepped forward, blocking him against the ring sides.

“You know Tommy?” Arthur felt the need to say something, the situation being extremely odd to him.

You gently put in place the bow and looked up to Arthur’s face, from his pale skin to his eyes. You stayed there a whole minute, analyzing his soul throughout the blue spring sky of his glassy eyes.

“I’d like to see you fight more. In real rings, Arthur. Why don’t you use the boxing place, it’s not far from here.” You turned your heels, walking back to the chair.

He looked at your figure, his eyes blankly fluttering for a moment. Needless to say, the minute you stared at him was displeasing, he was feeling as if he was robbed of something.

He ignored the warning and grabbed his boots, before he installed himself on the other chair around the little table, wanting to hear more about your offer.

“You fight good, but with some real training you could be something else.” You offered him a cigarette that he refused.

You were testing him from the very moment you put your feet in this cave, from checking how to open his mind was to his relation with poison such as cigarettes.

And now that you know everything you need to know, you could offer something.

“You’re some sort of agent?” He asked, intrigued.

You shook your head “Did you ever imagine women fighting? Just like you did, perhaps slightly better” You questioned, teasing him on the end.

His only response was to look at you in disbelief, and you bet he didn’t even understand what you told him.

“There is a world that exists, right here in Birmingham. Wanna go out and see?” You motioned your head toward the door, inviting him to agree with you.

It wasn’t that hard to convince the elder Shelby brother, he was always open to seeing more of life. Even if that meant to beat the shit outta people, get drunk, fuck the whole city or drowning in drugs.

The thing with Arthur was that he wasn’t careful enough, what told him it wasn’t a trap and that he will not get kidnapped or even killed if he followed you? Nothing. Nothing was ever sure with him, but leaving on the edges was something like his daily prayer, so of course he said yes.

Why in the hell would he say no? Tommy could do without him today.

(...)

Tommy had an unexpected visit from Churchill himself. It seemed like the latter had taken a liking to the head of the Shelbys.

“Do what you have to do, Mr Shelby.” Were Churchill’s words toward the reason for his visit, Mosley.

Indeed, he had thought out a concrete plan. And surprisingly, it was thanks to the books you sent him over the weeks, it was almost worth getting harassed by her over the primar book.

The plan was simple, Mosley will make a speech a week and a half from now, the 6th, in Bingley hall. Taking advantage of an anti-fascist demonstration during the rally, an old war comrade named Barney will shoot, and to be cleared of any suspicion, Thomas will be standing right next to Mosley at the time of his death, making sure he’ll take the head of the fascist union.

Today’s meeting was to explain details of the plan and what needed to be done before the d-day, but Tom didn’t see his brother during the entire day and when he’d asked the boys he was responded that Arthur stayed training some more.

It was hard at times, even for him to understand his older brother.

Not that he wanted to, but normally Arthur would never miss a meeting. The only times he didn’t show up were when he was overwhelmed with dark thoughts, and it wasn’t the right time for something like that to occur.

He decided to come to the pub, hoping to see his brother there, drunk, but not in a random cave trying to end his life.

Tom opened the Garrison’s doors, coughing at the amount of smoke coming in his face. He squinted his eyes, at first searching for a fire, but the more smoke entered his nostrils, the more he recognized the smell of apples and red fruits.

“Arthur, what the hell?” he called.

The place was crowded but Tommy’s eyes were focused on his brother, installed at the table near the windows.

He walked to the table and motioned to the windows. “Open one of these.” He ordered, but his brother didn’t see nor hear him. He was too occupied smoking on what seemed like a pipe with a long tube from where came the smoke.

“Oi!” Tommy yelled.

As everyone around the table turned to him, his eyes met with someone he would’ve never expected to be here.

Y/N was previously actively discussing with some girls when someone shouted into her ear.

You stared at Tommy for what seemed an eternity, he doing the same, both asking themselves what the other was doing here.

“Tommy!” His brother exclaimed, louder than he needed to. But this one was too occupied looking at you to even glance toward his brother, that well noticed the stare between you two.

Arthur managed to get up and pat his brother’s shoulder, welcoming him properly.

That’s when he turned to him, incredulous. His icy blue eyes were piercing his brothers, relentlessly.

“Welcome to the new Birmingham, brother!” Arthur seemed ecstatic. “Did you fucking know there were women fighting too, Tommy?”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Arthur.” His brother shook his head, still looking at him.

“Boxing, he saw women boxing for the first time.” You entered the conversation to Tommy's displeasure. He looked over you blankly.

“What the fuck is this?” He pointed to the thing Arthur was smoking from previously.

“It’s called a hookah. Or a shisha in percian.” You responded even though he decided to ignore you for who knows what reason.

“Come on, brother, it’s the good life, isn’t it?” Arthur asked, seeing the face of Tommy next to him.

He ultimately pointed back to the windows, “Open those.” Was all he said before turning back and leaving the pub.

“Sergent Major!” You authoritatively called, the heavy Garrison’s doors making a thud as they closed behind you.

The stars were twinkling dimly in the bright sky, cleared of any cloud. It added phlegm to the frenzied atmosphere between the two individuals.

He was already walking in the opposite direction but immediately stopped at the mention of his Small Heath Rifles’ rank.

Thomas turned back. “What did you say?”

You decide to ignore him and start walking to him.

Each of your steps snapped with the fortitude of an army. And the fineness with which you balance your weight from one foot to the other could bewilder the fiercest individuals, that, he knew.

Not a single ounce of hesitation nor apprehension in your movements.

But the most unsettling thing Tommy found about you was your facial expression. It wasn’t closed off or concentrated, quite the reverse, the spark settling behind your iris could light up any type of darkness and you were undoubtedly giving slices of life to each person you would smile to.

The addition of your features creating a delicate dimension where it was possible to believe the best things could happen.

At that moment, Tom wished he hadn’t seen you at that library. You were something he couldn’t overfly even if he dared to. But for some reasons he wasn’t able to move on, swayings seizing his entire being, physically as well as mentally.

There was just something about this, him and you.

“What the hell did you think, you that act like the most intelligent of all fucking Birmingham and beyond. My fucking brother doesn’t need none of that!” Tommy wasn’t screaming, but you could hear in his deep tone the anger rooted in his throat.

“He doesn’t need it or you don’t want him to have it, Thomas?” You calmly stated, which made him turn his back at you, passing a hand over his face.

You were pushing him to the edge and that made you laugh, which you didn’t even try to muffle.

He turned back to you, eyebrows raised.

“You wanted this.” He pointed you with his index.

He was accusing you of wittingly driving him crazy and you couldn’t even deny it.

You grabbed his finger with your own hand and pushed it down without releasing it.

“No, I counted on it.” You started, your lips curling into a smile that didn’t escape Tommy’s gaze.

“Life’s a succession of wars, Tom. But soldiers too need to relax.”

No one had ever put a finger on that nerve, but here he was, gazing longingly into your orbs, your words resonating within him.

You wasn’t only talking about Arthur and the fact he needed to be distracted to stay away from dark thoughts. You were also talking about him, that didn’t have to take care of everything as you were there now to handle some of it.

“I promise you I know what I’m doing.”

He leaned backwards, looking at you with an unreadable expression.

Why were you promising things now? The last time you two were that close, it was you that ran away, and now you were the one initiating things to drift from professional to personal.

You sighed and looked down. That’s when you realized both your hands were locked together.

You frowned, remaining silent. You were shocked, but not as much as you should. You weren’t totally stupid, the feelings settling in you were pretty clear once you stopped pushing them aside.

Soon enough he followed your stare, noticing the thing as well.

Both of you released at the same time, looking at everything but the other.

Tommy coughed, fighting the will to be the one saying something in this situation. But he didn’t want you to escape him again this time.

“I’m dealing with Arthur, you don’t have to put your nose in my affairs. It’s not part of the deal.”

You’d preferred he hadn’t spoken. You rolled your eyes at yourself before throwing him the “really?” look.

“You can’t even deal with Michael and you’re telling me you’re dealing with Arthur.” You scoffed, putting a hand on your lips to muffle the sound of your laugh.

His body relaxes at your gigglings.

“Who the fuck do you think you’re foolin’?” You couldn’t hold the laugh back any more.

He didn’t respond, nor act on what you just said. He just stares at you, filled with joy at the simple sight of you being vulnerable.

A smile drew at the corner of your lips when you stopped mocking him.

Your eyes fluttered of wellness, as he was just standing close, doing nothing else than breathing.

Tommy grabbed a cig and put it in between his lips, but you hassled to steal it and lock it between yours.

He glanced at you, raising his brows. He was done with you that was for sure. But not in a bad way. You were playing a game and you won the match.

He came lightening up your cig as watching you take a deep and slow puff on it.

You started to walk, going deeper into the street and he started to do the same.

(...)

Michael and Gina were coming back from the restaurant. It was the first time the husband took his wife out to eat in Birmingham as she, obviously, wasn’t a fan of the city.

They didn’t see the time’s flying and it was already ten when they reached the wide glass doors of the hotel.

As they entered it, they noticed it was almost pinched black inside, the only source of brightness emanating from little orangish lights hanging on the walls behind the counter.

Michael glanced left to right at the place, no one to be seen, or so he thought. It was only when Gina stepped foot in, that he glimpsed figures coming out of the dark spots.

They were moving fast, getting nearer the American woman before his husband could do anything to protect her.

“Gina!” Was all he said before she disappeared outside the front doors of the hotel along with the individuals.

(...)

Tommy stops the engine looking straight ahead.

You were looking outside the window, to your large mansion. You managed to glance at the man before opening the door. You were gauging his reaction, almost testing the water all while maintaining the silence.

As the tension couldn’t get higher, you stepped out. You began to move away from the car when you heard its door open, followed by the clearing of a throat you knew too well.

Tommy’s steps on the gravel came nearer and nearer. When you turned the keys in the lock they were right behind. You opened the heavy wooden entry and got in, letting the door open.

The man entered behind your and turned his back at you, closing the door. When he turned back at the entrance, Y/N had disappeared.

He stepped deeper in the house, and joined the living room, where he glimpsed at your figure, your air resting at your back, your fingers over a note on the table.

Tom got closer to you, grabbing your elbow with the tip of his fingers, looking at the paper you seemed focused on.

Done.

You quickly glanced around, as if making sure you were alone. You then turned to him, raising your palm to his cheek, a gentle touch that he didn’t expect, making his lids slowly fluttering.

You took a step forward, leaned towards him and fondled his nose with the end of your own before leading your fingers to his lips.

You closed your eyes, rooting yourself at this moment and forgetting about the library, high society, Mosley, Michael and everything that stood between you.

He was the one to initiate the kiss, the call for you being louder than any other things at the moment. One of his hands slid to the hollow of your back as the other was grabbed by hers.

Fingers intertwined together, breath mixed, lips pressed against one another, heartbeats speeding and a thousand seconds later, you pulled away, slowly raising your gaze to Tommy’s.

The weight this kiss meant dropped on Tom’s shoulder as he, without hesitation, came to taste again the sweet flavour of your lips. You gasped at the connection, the eagerness of the feeling inside your stomach being fed.

You were breathing loudly in his mouth, your hands now grabbing Tommy’s clothes shamelessly.

They both knew there was no turning back and that things got more complicated than they needed to be, but none of them pulled away nor hesitated for even a slight second.

Following Chapter ❱

#peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x y/n #peaky blinders fandom #peaky blinders fanfic #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x reader

78 notes · View notes

starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years ago

Text

Emp-Ire, “Patriot.”

Still working and am still in a bit of a writing slump.

I have only been able to write the very few things that REALLY interest me right now. So thank you for your patience with me going off on the occasional tangent, ok maybe more often then not going off on a tangent, but thanks anyway :)

A crisp morning breeze needled his skin, the icy tendrils causing goosebumps to break out over Adam’s bare chest and shoulders. Overhead a layer of dismal grey clouds blocked the sky over an alien landscape.

He was so tired.

And he hurt.

All around him other bodies shifted in the cool morning air, and he would have sworn he could see their breath puffing out in great gouts of steam, though that might just have been his imagination. He was so cold, what the hell was wrong with wearing a shirt, or at least some real pants.

But no, apparently pants were reserved for those who earned them, everyone else was relegated to nothing better than short leather skirts, or underwear which he found mildly infuriating. Even some compression shorts would have been nice. Another cold breeze ran past him and he crossed his arms over his chest palms pressed flat over his freezing nipples in hopes that by warming them up they wouldn’t just fall off.

Also his toes were numb, courtesy of the sandals he was wearing.

Looking around him, he could see that the other men and women didn’t appear to be nearly as cold as he was, in fact, they were probably being kept nice and warm by the sheer awesomeness of their big manly muscles or something.

Standing in a line with all of them he felt like the awkward nerd kid trying out for the football team. Each and every last one of them had washboard abs, or similar since genetics is more kind to some than to others.

And then there was him.

Chicken chest, noodle arm bastard that he was, with only the faint line of abs hanging out waiting for the moment he flexed intentionally to pretend his abs were bigger than they actually were. He hunched his shoulders just a bit, feeling very very small in comparison.

“Hey, how are you doing? Looking good everyone, looking good…. Hey…. hey.”

Adam lifted his head just in time to watch Ramirez strut up like he owned the damn place turning heads with the sheer gravity of his confidence.

He walked up to stand Next to Adam, “Fuck you, dude.”

“What?”

“How can you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Strut up like you and I aren’t literally the most pathetic people here.”

Ramirez patted him on the shoulder, “Confidence is key my friend. If you pretend to be awesome, soon you’ll believe it and eventually it will be. Self fulfilling prophecy and all of that. The mind is a powerful tool. Also chicks dig confidence.”

“What about men?”

“Them too, I don’t discriminate.” he held his arms out wide, “Everyone could do with a little bit of Ramirez in their life.” He looked at Adam pointedly, “How about you?” He flexed, “Want some of this.”

Adam snorted, paused and then said, “You know what, if I swung that way, sure.”

Ramirez put his hand over his chest, “That is probably the nicest thing you ever said to me. But the Ramirez is an open door and I open both ways.”

“You’re not a swinging door, you're a revolving door.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I don’t know man, it just sounded good. But if you were a door, you would also open from the bottom up, I just couldn’t think of an object that opened on both the x, y and z axises.”

He tapped his chin, “Gotta love how my morning has mostly involved being compared to a door, besides I don’t open to just anyone, I am age restricted, and no pets allowed.”

Adam grimaced, “Gross.”

“No I am not gross, if I was pet friendly THAT would be gross.”

Adam paused, “How about…. aliens ?”

Ramirez shrugged, “If it’s sentient, I Will try anything once. You kno, can’t knock it till you've tried it.”

It was at this moment that Adam became acutely aware that they were the only ones talking. They may have been speaking rather quietly, but at some point the other men and women had stopped speaking. He paused and turned his head to look. Ramirez’s voice faded off into the silence as the two of them turned to find a tall, heavily muscled woman standing before them. Her hair was tied back and her midriff was bare. She carried a spear in one hand and a shield in the other, and she waited very pointedly for the two of them to stop talking.

The look on her face could have coagulated his blood in his veins.

He shrunk back.

She walked up, looked at the two of them and her face pulled into an expression of disgust.

“Flabby.” She announced smacking Ramirez in the thigh with her spear. He yelped and grabbed his leg, “Soft.” The spear jabbed Adam in the belly driving the wind from his boy, “Pathetic,” She announced, “No weakness, not on my island.” She jabbed at him again and, on instinct, Adam caught the haft of the spear.

He knew pretty immediately he had made a mistake as her eyes widened, and then he was slammed to the dirt head ringing from the metal of the shield on his skull.

He groaned and rubbed at his head.

“Thank you for volunteering.”

Adam didn’t know what he had just volunteered for, but it sounded like he wasn’t going to like it very much.

As it turns out.

He was right.

She announced immediately that they were going to play a game. He thought that seemed weird for the biggest badasses this side of fake Greece but ok. But it turned out her idea of a game was just a fun way of saying I am going to make you regret you ever lived.

They were the wolves, he was the rabbit. He had a two minute head start, and then they would chase him. If he got caught, they were allowed to beat him up for a few minutes, and then he got another two minutes head start.

This lasted all morning.

About two or three hours. He couldn't tell by the end.

He had never been so exhausted in his life, andhe thought training with the Drev had been hard.

By the end he determined that they were about the same amount of hard, but the Drev didn’t do nearly as much Running. Towards the end his two minute head start counted for almost nothing, and he was in a nearly continual state of getting the shit kicked out of him. Ramirez huffed and puffed at the back of the pack like the big bad wolf had asthma.

And Adam threw up…. Three times.

Three times.

By the time it was over he was covered in bruises and could barely walk. He thought, like during training, they would get a lunch break or something, but nope by the end of the day they were back to the sandy training field where it was either, wrestling, bare knuckle boxing, sparring, or some other ungodly torture.

There was no stopping.

Occasionally, they were allowed to kneel on the dirt and have something to eat. He wasn't sure what the spartans had eaten back in the day, but this looked like meals clearly prepared by people who studied the science of getting jacked. Mostly protein and vegetables. Whatever drink they were using was some kind of water, but cut with something else he couldn’t have been sure about, probably electrolytes.

Either way he had a hard time keeping it down.

Ramirez on the other hand was part of the passing out gang.

The two of them together barely made a functioning human. And by the end of the day they crawled themselves back to what constituted as the barracks, which was just one long building with mats laid out on the floor. He was so tired that he slept like a log through the entire night until they were woken up to do it again the next day. He slept whenever he could, using anyone and anything as a pillow.

He became way more intimately familiar with Ramirez than he had ever wanted to be but at that point he was too tired to give much of a shit. Even Ramirez was too tired to say anything sarcastic or inappropriate.

He honestly couldn't have said how long they were there, every day seemed to bleed into the next with only the changing of the weather and the night to let him know anything was going on at all.

The change in himself was so gradual that he barely even noticed until one day…

“SHIELD WALL!”

Adam and Ramirez raced forward interlocking their shields with the group of men and women before them. Others piled up behind bracing their spears over the shoulders of their comrades.

“Remember the wall is only as strong as its weakest member!”

Across from them a group of other trainees raced forward and slammed against their shield wall.

Adam and Ramirez shouted their exertion.

“Push back!”

They pulled back slightly and then drove forward shoving the other recruits back and to the ground tossing a few of them bodily three or four feet back.

“BRACE!”

They returned to their interlocking position, spears bristling outward like some sort of demonic porcupine.

They did that exercise once or twice more until ordered to break off, separating into individual units which charged the other groups' spears raised.

Adam Batted another combatant’s shield aside, slammed his shoulder into the man’s chest, kicked another oncoming from the left, dodging out of the way as Ramirez covered him from the right with a sharp jab of his spear which caught another woman by the bottom of the shield and sent her deflecting to the right.

They clashed on the training field for a good half hour of continual battle, when another group of fresh, armored combatants charged them. He was tired, but as the enemy charged inward, he shook it off, roared a battle cry and charged them.

“Shields!” He ordered without thinking, and a small group of remaining fighters bunched up with him and Ramirez. They managed their wall right before the new combatants hit, “PUSH!” And with a massive have they threw them back, causing them to trip over one another. They broke their wall to take on the remaining group now fractured.

Adam went straight down the middle with Ramirez guarding his back chagrin at the armored combatants.

They were fresh, and Adam had the distinct impression that they were also not trainees.

Three of their number had already gone down under the onslaught, but he brought up his spear, knocked the shield to the side and tagged the other man with a glancing blow in the throat. He staggered away holding his neck. He spun left clobbering a woman with his shield. Ramirez cut past him stabbing straight down the middle and catching another one straight in the breastplate.

Two more of their number went down to the right.

There was no way they could make an effective shield wall now.

One more went down on their right.

Ramirez went to his knees shield held up before Adam, who used the shielding to strike past with his spear.

Ramirez ducked and Adam leaped over him crashing into another line of men shield on one side spear on the other.

The man before him went crashing to the dirt. He caught incoming strikes simultaneously and ducked under both allowing Ramirez to take one while he dealt with the other. They were split off from each other in the confusion and he didn’t see what happened as he was blindsided by another shield.

The power in that was awful, and he went flying back at least two feet staggering until he skidded in the sand and regained himself. The armored man came charging at him with a roar, and they clashed shields again. The other man was clearly stronger, though not by much. Adam strained against him, feet digging into the dirt before suddenly slacking and rolling off to the side.

It nearly caught the other man off his guard, but he was good, and caught himself before he could fall forward.

Adam snarled as they exchanged a flurry of blows. All the other combatants had backed off so the two of them could fight. He advanced pushing the other man back, though it seemed impossible that he would be able to score a hit, the other man was just too fast. It went on for a while.

Adam got tagged in the right hip, but kept fighting, it was nothing compared to the beating he had received only yesterday. He cut in again slamming his shield against the other man to throw him off balance. It didn’t do it as well as he had hoped, but for a split second he saw an opening. He would have to time it perfectly.

It was probably as much luck as it was skill that he managed to pass the spear through the little hole between the shield and man scoring a long cut across the man’s left bicep. As soon as he did someone shouted the halt, and he froze in palace.

The man before him lowered his shield and pulled off his helmet to reveal.

The King!

Adam stepped back in shock, quickly raising his spear in salute.

“Sir!”

The man smiled grimly turning to look down at his bleeding arm. He turned back to look at Adam, “Exhausted, training all day, and you still managed to cut me, I think that is a good sign.”

The entire field was returning to rest position.

Ramirez climbed out from under his shield, dazed but somehow unscathed.

“How long have you been with us now, two months maybe more.”

“I can’t remember.”

“Two months of improvement I think, and today many of these men proved themselves worthy of being real soldiers….” He turned to look at Adam, “How about yourself, what do you think you deserve?”

Adam planted his spear against the ground, “I’m still standing aren’t I.”

James, the king of sparta, laughed, “Spoken like a true Spartan.” He turned to look at the others, “I tend to agree with your assessment.” He waved a hand at those who are still standing, which included Ramirez, to Ramirez’s evident surprise.

He looked down at himself then around then grinned nodding as if it was very obvious he deserved to be there.

Adam smiled slightly.

He supposed he did.

And now that he realized it the two of them didn’t look at all out of place in comparison to the other men and women there. He stood up straighter, “Thank you, sir.”

“Just right in time then. We set out for Argos tonight, one last test before I let you go.”

The men and women raised their spears to thor king.

***

It felt good, almost familiar, with a cloak fluttering at his back, a spear in hand and a helmet on his head. Granted it was almost nothing like the Drev, but it still felt good enough that he could forgive it. He was, in fact, very proud of his accomplishment as he now stood on the rocky outcrop next to the King of the Neospartans and an entourage of warriors, his sandals feet rested hard against stone and a bare wind tugged at the red plume on the top of his helmet, the same wind that caused the red cloak to flutter behind him in the breeze.

“What is in Argos?” He wondered allowed, not entirely sure if he was allowed to ask, but curious enough to risk it.

James looked down at him from the pinnacle of rock, “You know we dislike the New Athenians?”

Adam nodded “Yeah…. About that, is it just tradition… or…”

James shook his head, “No, nothing like that. We would be fine working with them. This is a real place with real people who have their own real beliefs. It isn’t just some elaborate LARP. No, I was here when this colony started, and there was no difference between us and the New Athenians but after a while there rose some… disagreements.”

Adam tilted his head, “And what disagreements are those?”

“Moral disagreements. I am a patriot, admiral. I may be the king of Sparta, but I was also born on earth and am a True believer in the unity of the GA. Division Will only weaken us. But there are factions among the New Athenians who don’t believe the same, which would be fine. I understand a group of people who disagree with the current political system. That should be allowed by all means, but the way they are going about it is just wrong.”

“What do you mean.”

“They Are supplying information, weapons, and lodging to rebel forces who wish to destroy the GA and everything it stands for. They aren't just doing it through protests and reforms, but through violence, and hurting innocent people. They don’t care how they win as long as they do, and that is something I cannot abide. I have on good authority that some of them are working with Kree operatives and anti-alliance forces to plan assassinations against key members of government.”

Adam’s eyes widened in shock, “Really!, than why haven't we heard about this.”

James shook his head, “Despite their radical ideals, they are a very small and mostly powerless group who don’t pose much of a threat to GA members themselves. In fact, most of them are all bark and no bite. I figure that it's my job to keep my little slice of the galaxy clean, and I have managed it so far.”

Adam shook his head in surprise…. “So the Oracle….”

James nodded, “She recognized you, and likely sent you here in hopes that we would kill you for being spies, which we have done before. She honestly should have killed you herself, but the New Athenians don’t like to get their hands dirty, they like to keep their hands clean and let others do their dirty work.”

He turned to look at Adam, “Based on my studies, you are an important piece in an intergalactic chess game, holding the GA together with a volatile humanity.” He turned his head back to stare out at the horizon, “Like I said, protests, petitions, and legislation is all well and good, but as soon as your course starts to hurt innocent people you lose my sympathy. You are no longer the heroic rebel, but you are a blight and you must be stamped out.”

The fire in the man’s golden eyes was enough to make Adamstand back a little.

“I see.”

“I am glad you do, you need to see what goes on at the small scale. You need to know that there are people here fighting for you and your ideals. You built what the GA is today, whether on purpose or not, and that is something I intend to uphold.” He pointed downwards, “And we are going to start here.”

182 notes · View notes

notspazztrapavacado · 4 years ago

Text

'Flu-shot Fiasco'

Dr. Clef x they/them! scp! reader

(This AU belongs to supercasey, I'm hoping I'm understanding it right)

It had been nearly twenty-two years they'd been stuck in this place, saved from the streets as a young teen the first time they had died. Nothing was really special about them save for the fact they regenerated at a supernatural rate and was not stopped from it by death, but it was worth noting that every time they'd been put with a family, the general lack of self preservation made them too weak stomache to keep them and gave them back.

It's not all bad, though, this place was kind to them. It was like an animal rescue center and a hospital and an orphanage had some kind of weird hybrid child center. Simply put: It was home.

Right now, however, they were clinging to the ceiling fan in their basic human enclosure for dear life, dread pooling in the pit of their stomach as the small team of researchers beneath them looked on.

"(Y/N) it's time for your flu shot." Kondraki was not having this at all, not today.

"No! Do what you with me, put me through a meat grinder, dip me in acid, but do not come anywhere NEAR me with a needle!" They shouted down at them and he sighed, facepalming as he heard the answer he'd gotten every year.

"I expected better of you." Gears sighed and Iceberg crossed his arms.

"You're 34, can't you act like it once?" Iceberg huffed his point in this.

"Technically, I'm 25." They noted the age they stopped at, regeneration covering the loss of cells and giving them the look of a much younger individual.

"Still an adult. Now get down." Iceberg argued. (Y/n) only scrunched up their nose at him and stuck their tongue out.

"Bright. You're up." Kondraki motioned to Dr. Bright, who looked very pleased he got the chance to do what he wanted here.

"Haha, watch this." He strode over to the doorway and flipped one of the two switches next to it, powering the fan on with success.

(Y/n) remained attached to it, spinning at an increasingly rapid pace until the motion leveled out. They looked on with a mix of amusement and utter disappointment.

"Have you practiced this??" Gears squinted, baffled, but not surprised.

"Only every day of my life!" they cackle maniacally. This was the year they finally won. No shots for (Y/n)!!

"I didn't want to have to do this." Kondraki picked up his walkie-talkie, and Bright flipped the switch for the fan, watching it come to a stop with a certain amount of respect for the art of chaos.

"You won't be reasoned with, you won't be bested, we must resort to cheating." Dr. Bright gave his speech, lips pressed into a firm line in standing his ground.

"You're not my dad!" They shouted at him.

"I'm old enough to be!" he shouted back.

"Clef, (Y/n) is stuck to the ceiling this year." Kondraki spoke into the small, boxy device. It gave a distorted, sharp sound.

"Got tired of the kitchen table gambit?" Clef's voice came through almost clearly.

"We took the handcuffs away last week to prepare for that. I don't think we should have." He was more than tired.

"I'm already on my way." Clef replied.

"He can't do shit! Watch this!" (Y/n) had managed to get their leg securely over one of the blades, swinging their torso up and successfully laying over two of the five.

"You're lucky we make those out of steel." Iceberg was further unimpressed.

"You're lucky I'm not as bad as Kain with his shots." They argued back.

"We can sedate Kain, you're just awful!" Iceberg exclaimed loudly.

"Have no fear, Clef is here!" The ukulele man strummed a couple notes before tossing the instrument onto their couch and cracking his knuckles.

"Good. I'm going to go get coffee. When you get them down, the shot is on their kitchen counter." Kondraki left with Bright tagging along to bother him.

"I will be back shortly to help with the shot. I promised to walk Iceberg home." Gears had his arm looped with Iceberg's, who looked happy with the arrangement.

"Just you'n me, sweetheart." he looked up at his partner in crime, feeling cocky.

"I'm gonna raid your fridge." He immediately turned and went right into the kitchen, earning a great bit of objection.

"What? No! Get outta there!" they shouted.

"Come stop me." He stuck his tongue out at them, matching their childish game.

"No way!" They stayed stubborn.

"Then the price of redemption for your crimes is your fruit snacks." He stated.

"Haha! Ate them this morning." (Y/n) felt triumphant and Clef pouted.

"Damn. I didn't think you're impulse control had gotten that out of whack." he said.

"You'd be surprised how bad my impulse control can be." They boasted.

"You leave me no choice." He grabbed a kitchen chair and walked into the living area with it, earning a smug grin.

"What're you gonna do with that, shorty? Reach the top shelf?" They mocked.

"Imma fucking get you 's what imma do." He grumbled, irritated at the nickname, and clambered on top of the wooden chair.

"You'll never reach me." they mused.

"Watch this." He eyed the fan like a cat, his parkor legacy would begin here, he's the greatest jumper to walk the face of the earth, he's-

His internal monologue of a pep talk was cut short when he wobbled.

"Yep. Not doing that." he climbed off, instead grabbing the multi step stool they had in the closet beside the door.

"I hate this thing." He set it out with more effort than one should ever have to use, the stool old and rusted at the ends.

Less than gracefully, he started to ascend, making it most of the way up.

"I feel so bad for you right now. I jumped up here." They chuckled spitefully.

"Not everyone was born with fabulous legs and the ability to gain superpowers once a year at flu season." he grabbed the fan, finally, and they applauded him.

"Great. You're mostly here." they snickered mischievously as he attempted a pull up.

He failed that pull up terribly.

Nearly sent plummeting, he knocked over the stool and yelped when he was left to dangle from the metal blade.

"I didn't wanna go out like this!" he yelled.

"I don't want the shot." They retorted.

"You win! You win! Help me, please!" He conceded defeat and, in seconds, he was grabbed by his shirt and hoisted up and over the side of the fan to lay over it and catch his breath.

"(Y/n), you fool." He grinned a sharp toothed, wicked grin.

"Oh no…" They shrunk back.

"You've trapped yourself!" he exclaimed, drawing the syringe from his pocket.

(Y/n) screeched with horror, scrambling back and falling off the fan thoughtlessly.

"No you DON'T!!!" He threw himself down to them, landing with a loud Thump! on his knees and immediately screaming.

"Fuck, shit, goddamn, fuckfuckfuckfuck-" his kneecaps were taking their time recovering, his regeneration a much more painful process than theirs.

"You've betrayed me! You deserve your broken knees!" they tried to dislodge themself from his hold.

"I will put this through your eye!" He held the syringe menacingly and they froze.

"..." He was regretting that.

"You know I'm a liar, why do you even humor the thought I'd do that?" He stuck them in the arm and they whimpered.

"See, not so bad?" he finally removed his thighs from either side of their torso, standing. They only remained rigid.

"It was a joke." he nudged them with his shoe and sighed.

"It's over now, you want ice cream?" he offered. "Hello?" he waved a hand in front of them, and finally got a response.

"Aghuuubfvbbfy!!" their whole body convulsed and shuddered a moment before they sat up, looking at him with more pain than he'd ever seen on them.

"I am never going to let you near me with a syringe again." They stated, horrified.

"I still have it. It'd be cruel of me to stick you for fun." he rolled it in his palm.

"But I am rather cruel." He made a sharp noise and elicited another screech from them as they backed into the wall.

"Another joke, jesus christ, calm down." he tossed the used plastic syringe behind him, just letting it land wherever.

"You calm down, I'm gonna be scared from this!" They exclaimed.

"That's what you get for acting like a child." He crossed his arms and nodded.

"If childishness attracts karma, you're really in for it." They argued right back.

#scp #scp fanfiction #scp foundation #dr clef #reader insert #fanfiction #fanfic #cute #funny #needle tw #i loved this idea too much not to write this #im trash #fandom

72 notes · View notes

boys-from-santacarla · 3 years ago

Note

so i've never seen any fic or really anything for dwayne + paul so like maybe that idk--

Notes: Thank you so much for your request. 💛 And sorry if I made you wait too long. I have never read anything like this either, but I hope you like it. It was fun writing it tbh, so feel free to write a positive or negative feedback.

Warnings: Homophobia, homophobic language, cursing, a bit of explicitness in an attempt to lead to sex.

The Moralist (Dwayne x Paul)

Word Count: 1563.

The fourth night at stakeout waiting at the boardwalk was going just as usual; with David waiting at the corner for Star and Laddie to hopefully come back with a third individual, and Paul and Marko playing a stupid game to win a stuffed animal, with Dwayne as a keen spectator next to them.

When the game was over, both players started fighting.

"You cheating bitch! Everyone saw I was winning until you step on my foot!" Paul yelled.

"Maybe I did, but you started it by pushing me every five seconds!" Marko snapped back. Paul half-closed his eyes in anger and began to yell again when Dwayne got between the two.

"Ok, we get it. You both assholes are losers that need to cheat to win something." He laughed and the blondes protested with a loud "hey". He rolled his eyes and said "Move on."

Paul pointed a finger towards Marko and warned "You gon' pay, buddy." Marko gave him the finger and started walking backwards to play some more while showing off his brand new item.

"Hey, man, c'mon. Let's get a drink or something." Dwayne suggested still laughing.

After getting a tasteless six for the evening, both moved to a calmer side at the end of the boardwalk to sit down at some stairs. After all, when Michael appeared they'd hear David's bike.

"Dave's really into this guy." Dwayne said after taking the first sip of his beer.

Paul giggled "Who would've known his weakness were young and closeted curly brunettes."

Dwayne hummed his agreement. "I mean, he's kinda cute." He said and giggled, earning a funny look from his company.

"Don't tell me you have the hots for him too" Paul pleaded incredulous.

Dwayne shook his head "Nah, it's just..." He stopped for a moment to think about it. Michael was dumb, that was for sure, but he had this exciting... aura around him. And he was good looking too.

"I don't know" He finally stated and shrugged. "He's cute. That's all."

"Oh, Lord..." Paul shook his head in disappointment "We got us another fairy vamp."

Dwayne punched his shoulder. "You're such a homophobe. As if you and Marko didn't looked like fags." He teased and took another sip.

"Hey, man! He's the one who seems to like to get annoying just for me to be all over him!" Paul defended himself and was about to get another sip too when he processed Dwayne's whole saying "And I'm no homophobe!" He declared offended.

Dwayne gave him a skeptical look "You know..." he shrugged "they say all homophobes are closeted gays, so..." He unfinished the sentence suggestively.

Paul rolled his eyes and continued advocating his reputation. "I'm as liberal as the next guy. I could even kiss a guy and don't give any fucks." Dwayne almost spitted his drink with that last one.

"Yeah, sure." He murmured.

"I'm serious!"

Dwayne raised his head unconvinced "I don't think so. Your ego's far too sensible for that."

"It is not." Paul snorted.

That made Dwayne wonder, ok, so macho drama queen was liberal and respectful? Why not test the veracity of this?

"Fine. Then kiss me."

Paul turned to look at him disbelieving "I'm a lot of man for you, sweetheart." He said with smugness, but there was a slight quiver in his voice to denote his awkwardness.

Dwayne laughed "I knew it."

"Just because I won't kiss you doesn't mean I'm a damn homophobe. It's just that you're not my type."

"Because I'm a man." Dwayne persisted.

"No, because you're disgusting and ugly." Paul corrected.

But maybe it wasn't a bad idea.

Maybe it would be good to prove Dwayne, the big moralistic guru, that no sloppy kiss could hurt his masculinity. Cause that was the truth, wasn't it?

Paul sighed "You know what? Fine." He decided.

Dwayne shoot up his eyebrows.

Paul smirked "Come here and have a taste." He sensually invited and loudly smacked his lips.

Dwayne remained still for a moment, shocked that Paul was actually up for it. The hotshot couldn't let anyone patronize him, uh.

"Ok." He simply accepted and moved to accommodate his legs with Paul to get closer with each other.

Making eye contact, Dwayne, still a little unsure, put his big hand on Paul's waist while Paul placed with a bit of extra force his palm on Dwayne's cheek.

Then they brought their faces together and left nothing between their lips but an inch apart. So close that each could notice the other's dusty but fresh masculine scent.

"I still don't think you can handle this, bud" Paul whispered, lightly brushing his lips with Dwayne's with the movement.

Dwayne smirked with arrogance "Quitting?"

The blonde gave his negative with a low sound and moved his head to a side to fit his marginally parted lips with Dwayne's.

Both were taking this as a dare to press the other past his limits and make him step back, to leave clear who was the homophobe here. So why think of this wrong? It was just a kiss to prove who had the best manners. No more.

They stayed still for a moment, like a pair of kids having their first kiss. Not moving, just innocently touching lips. But none would step back and give up.

So, if a simple smash of lips was something both could stand, then they would have to take it farther. And it felt surprisingly easy.

Both moved their lips to taste better the other's flavor, and Paul moved his palm from Dwayne's cheek to his nape, slowly, caressing his soft skin, and feeling the light brush of his strands between his fingers. All this while Dwayne moved his hand from his friend's waist to his lower back, intently pressing them closer together and feeling Paul muscles flexing.

The kiss got sensual when feeling silly both opened their mouths and crashed together their tongues. The stubble definitely felt weird, both thought, and even though the hair could help imagine it was a girl, they could not forget it was a pal whom their were kissing.

But that didn't stopped them. Telling themselves it was because it was their job to make the other uncomfortable, they didn't broke the kiss. Just continued to move in a hot syntony sharing saliva.

So the sudden jolt Dwayne felt was justifiable, just as Paul's low moan was too.

It got rapidly heated. Both moving with more confidence, as if already knowing how to move in harmony with the contrary. Their lips began making smacking noises when one decided to venture and nibble a little.

Panting, their hands wandered more and traveled exposed spots of skin and leather.

Paul placed his free hand on his friend's thigh, caressing it while still moving his exploring tongue inside Dwayne's mouth. The hand on his back sent a cold chill on his spine and he felt his cock twitch. Dwayne's response was to moan a little and keep one hand on the wooden stairs to press Paul harder against him.

Lost in the track of time, the dare got out of control and they were both half-hard.

And both felt good.

Fuck, both felt good.

Paul's conscious abruptly came into play and he jumped as if burned, breaking the kiss in cold. Dwayne stayed in position until he reopened and focused his dark eyes on the blonde's. His puzzled expression was enough for him to react too.

In unison their heads turned to the side, trying to hide their dark red faces.

Dwayne cleared his throat "Uhm... that was... That was..."

Paul hesitantly wiped his mouth with the back of his wobbly hand, then glanced at Dwayne still looking anywhere else but at him and repeated his previous action, now with deliberated disgust.

"Repugnant. Nauseating. Ugh, I wanna puke." He stuck out his tongue.

Dwayne agreed "You're such a lousy kisser, man." He copied Paul's action and pretended to clean his lips.

There was an uncomfortable silence while they tried to recover and regain their prides. Dwayne was about to say something when unexpectedly Marko appeared from behind calling them. They turned their heads.

"Hey, guys! Michael's here. Let's go." He seemed oblivious, so he walked back to where he came from and didn't gave them a chance to respond.

Turning back at each other, they wanted to utter something, but just made eye contact, saying... what? "Don't worry, it was good, but I'm not telling, not even myself cause that makes me gay. Thanks for making my dick twitch, tho"?

Dwayne jumped to his feet.

"Well, now it's a fact that you're a homophobe." He teased, in an attempt to dissolve his odd feeling, but it didn't work. "So, I'll, uh, I'll get going, bro." He adjusted his jeans, climbed the stairs and resumed his natural cocky strut as casually as he could.

"Yeah." Was all Paul could say, almost inaudible. But that didn't matter.

He adjusted his pants too and got up.

Yeah, he liked kissing Dwayne, so what? It got a little out of hand and provoked a natural sexual response, right? He wasn't attracted or anything, right? He knew the guy was hot, but everyone with eyes could acknowledge that. It was no big deal. Cause he wasn't a fag.

Paul wasn't a fag.

He wasn't.

Damn.

#writing's not my thing but i like to try #the lost boys #dwayne x paul #dwayne the lost boys #paul the lost boys #marko the lost boys #my writings #gays being vamps

15 notes · View notes

cognacdelights · 4 years ago

Text

steamboat springs

my outer banks masterlist

add yourself to my taglist

summary: after coming into a large sum of money, two teens in the midst of riding the wave of young love decide to blow their fortune on a once in a lifetime trip to the mountain winter resort of steamboat springs, colorado.

warnings: swearing. angst. fluff. slight indication of sexual content.

The tips of her scarlet-painted toes skimmed the lukewarm bubbles of the hot tub as her petite, bikini-clad frame perched on the varnished, wooden edge. Her rose gold, star charm anklet glistened under the dimmed, romantic fairy lights that encompassed the tall, pine wood canopy as her contemplating, chartreuse eyes observed the picturesque scenery before her; the towering, snow-topped peaks that entrapped the quaint, expensive mountain resort were breath-taking. Lined with an army of ancient, snow-sprinkled evergreens and littered with miles of meandering, frozen streams, the Colorado Mountains were truly a sight to behold. Yet, there was a relentless, incessant niggle that plagued her pensive mind - refusing to allow her peace and tranquility in possibly the most calming and serene of locations.

“What you thinking ‘bout, pretty girl?” the low, husky voice of her sandy-locked, indigo-eyed boyfriend drew her out of her pondering, wistful daze. His toned, half-naked body waded through the tepid, jet-powered waves as he demanded the attention of his long-term girlfriend. His warm, paw-like palms settled on the tops of her droplet-covered thighs - his slightly calloused thumbs tracing delicate, tender circles against the sensitive skin of her inner thighs - as he came to rest between her parted legs. He left a gentle, adoration-filled kiss against the hickey-marked skin of her inner thigh, ensuring that he had captured her whole, undivided attention.

“Maybe you should have paid off your restitution with that money, instead of blowing it all on this,” a heavily weighted exhale escaped her plump, rose-tinted lips - her glimmering, beryl eyes concentrating on his concern-laced features. Instinctively, she ran her dainty fingers through the damp, tousled tangles of his blonde, straw-like locks, pushing the unkempt waves from obstructing his chiselled face.

“What?” his anxious, sapphire orbs peered upwards through his fair, sparse eyelashes - his apprehensive heart anticipating the sickening plunge of disappointment into the deep, dark caverns of his stomach as he urged her to elaborate, “you don’t like it here?” All the fair-haired, cobalt-eyed boy yearned for was to see the beautiful, content smile - which he so very much adored - plastered across her sun-kissed features; everything he did was for the sake of her happiness - in all it’s purity, so the thought of her holding regrets towards their once-in-a-lifetime, never-be-able-to-afford-again trip pained him dearly.

“No, I do. I love it. It’s beautiful and I would give anything to leave the Outer Banks behind and stay here, forever, with you,” her voice softened at the heart-wrenching sight of anguish laced within the pearly, silver speckles of his eyes, “but I want you to be a free man more.” There was a negligible, minuscule sliver of her that resented him for taking the blame for the sinking of Topper’s boat; it had changed the course of their relationship entirely, and not particularly for the better. Not only had her strict, over-bearing parents proclaimed their disapproval of their relationship upon hearing tattling whispers of his arrest, but his selfless, fictitious confession meant that he would more than likely be sentenced to a stay in a juvenile corrections facility.

“It’s just a bit of debt, it doesn’t matter in the long run,” he half-heartedly attempted to dismiss her concerns - nonchalantly shrugging his broad, muscular shoulders as a disheartened breath escaped his nicotine-laced lungs.

“It’s a permanent charge on your record, JJ, and you could still face time in juvy for this,” she responded solemnly, “what am I supposed to do if you get locked up? Juvenile’s don’t get conjugal visits, you know?” The shaggy-haired blonde had neglected to think of the consequences of his actions upon declaring that he was the individual responsible for the Thornton’s boat shenanigans. However, the reality was, JJ Maybank had just checked off his third strike on his long, delinquency-filled wrap sheet - and the metaphorical book of justice was poised and ready to be launched in his direction as they spoke.

“And you’d rather that have been on Pope’s record, huh?” he countered opposingly - his usually loving, tender voice raised several decibels as he defended himself against his girlfriend’s disapproving tone, “it would ruin his life. Not to mention, we all know he would never survive inside. They’d fucking eat him alive.” The pleasant, endearing warmth she once felt where his wandering hands caressed the cellulite-plagued plains of her thighs dissipated into the brisk nipping of the bitter, wintry mountain breeze as he retreated from their intimate embrace.

“Pope’s the one who did it,” she mumbled in response, uncomfortable with the tone of their heated conversation. Unfortunately, this was just going to be one of those things that they would never agree on. She platonically adored Pope - truly, she did - but, of course, she loved her boyfriend more. It was inevitable that the selfish, pining sliver of her that believed Pope should take responsibility for his actions would rear it’s ill-timed head eventually. JJ didn’t deserve to be punished for a crime he, for once, had not committed - and neither did their already suffering relationship.

“Pope’s the one with the future. He’s got his scholarship, he’s got his whole life planned out, he has dreams that are actually within his reach. I couldn’t let that be taken away from him because of something I pushed him to do,” he continued to argue, his tone defensive and abrupt. As her crestfallen, veridian eyes attempted to meet with his, she recognised an unfamiliar emotion that had etched itself into the foundations of his chiselled, stubble-lined features: guilt. A conscience-eating tidal wave of remorse had overwhelmed his entire being, convincing his impressionable mind that the entirety of the situation was down to the shaggy-haired blonde. Perhaps he was right; perhaps Pope wouldn’t have acted so wildly out of character and pulled the plug from the extravagant 2019 Malibu without the misguided encouragement of his trouble-making best friend - but, simultaneously, she was right. At the end of the day, Pope was the one who ultimately committed the delinquent act, and Pope did that off his own culpable accord.

“What about your future?” she challenged him, the desperation evident within the subtle inflections of her almost pleading tone. Her tanned, petite shoulders slouched from their structured, upright position - as her head tilted ever so slightly to the side, her malachite doe eyes searching for his torment-filled pools of teal. Despite her best, relenting efforts, he refused the intimacy of eye contact.

“I don’t have a future,” his voice was quiet - almost weak - and barely audible above the ceaseless, mechanical humming of the hot tub jets, “not one like that.”

“Yes you do,” she told him tenaciously - adamant in her words as her tender, dainty palms embraced the defined contours of his pronounced cheek bones, her gentle thumbs affectionately grazing over the brittle stubble, “you have a future with me. I don’t know what that entails; whether it’s opening our own surf shop down in Yucatán, or having a log cabin in the Colorado Mountains, or living on a freaking boat in the harbour back in Kildare. Whatever it is, I don’t care as long as it’s me and you. It’s me and you, forever, J. It always has been and it always will be.”

“I’m gonna pay it all off, I promise, even if I have to get a third job,” his calloused, bear-like hands encaptured hers, giving her petite fingers a gentle, adoring squeeze, “then I’m gonna give you the life you fucking deserve. A ring, a big ass wedding at one of those fancy, country estates, a whole bunch of kids, even that damned pink Volkswagen Beetle with the flowers painted on the doors - whatever you want, I’m gonna make sure that you get it all.”

“To me and you,” he toasted meaningfully - his words exuding promise and assurance as his meaty, ring-clad fingers grasped the condensation-laced neck of the lavish, half-empty champagne bottle. Expectantly, he tilted the punt of the onyx-tinted, glass bottle towards the breath-taking, brunette beauty before him.

“To me and you,” she recited his endearing words fondly, an enamored, cordial smile curving the corners of her full, luscious lips upwards. She too grasped the neck of a chilled, vintage bottle of champagne - hers significantly fuller than his - before clinking the two aged bottled together in celebration of their future together. The two, slightly tipsy, teens each took a generous swig of the fruit-fragranced beverage, concluding the ritual.

A giddy, infatuated squeal surpassed her plump, champagne-drenched lips as his soaked, paw-like palms gripped her dainty ankles, proceeding to gently tug her scantily-clad silhouette into the depths of the heated, bubbling water. His brawny, exposed back pressed against the varnished pine wood of the hot tub bench - her already bruised knees falling either side of his swimsuit-clad lower half, straddling his tamed, semi-erect length. His loving, yet ravenous, lips found hers, molding together in a beautiful, melodic synchrony as his audacious, meandering fingers fumbled to untie the loose strings of her Aztec-printed bikini bottoms.

323 notes · View notes

pseudofaux · 4 years ago

Note

so..... under Comte's MC worship piece you mentioned having some darker ideas for him....... i think it's only natural to ask if you'd ever expand on that at least a little?... 👀

I would and I will 😤😍, thank you so much for asking!

This is ALL GOING UNDER A CUT. If you, gentle reader, don’t like the idea of the ask for/featuring Comte, this post isn’t for you— so please don’t read it. Totally fine if this is not your cup of tea! It is mine. And under the cut is tea time. 😌

He wants her sparkling with life, and happy, and choosing to be with him, of course. But he would love to have stretches of time where she’s both pliant and reliant— he’ll want her submissive to his wishes... to do everything for her. Feed her, bathe her, cosset her, fuck her. Hard. So, so lovingly, but hard, hard enough that she’ll need rest and care afterward, and that is part of the thrill: he creates her pleasure and any resultant soreness or exhaustion, she trusts him to do that even though she knows she doesn’t know how big a trust that is, and then he’s further in charge of all the massaging and hydrating and sheet-changing and moon watching and everything else AFTER.

He’s not a creature that sweats much and he loves to sweat from the physical ways he fucks her whenever they get the chance: holding her bent atop dressers and desks, pinning her against a wall, holding her over the rail of a theater box all done in velvet and gold, standing up to his shoulders in a river or the great baths of the mansion and cupping his hands underneath her thighs while he keeps her naked body in the air like a dryad and licks into her, anywhere. Anywhere! He’s strong and never gets to showwwwww ittttttt. He’s got this thin, devestating edge of keenness inside himself to reveal his strength to her. His aim here is 500% caveman “I am no threat to you but I am Big Damn Threat to anyone who would ever even think about hurting you” display. Sometimes he sweats just from holding himself rigid for her to touch, and her cool, miraculous fingertips tracing his body with obvious wonder and appreciation make him so, so deliciously tense. But sweet gentleman Comte, he loves that pre-snap as much as the snap itself. 🥰 And he loves! loves! HER sweat. It’s not as though it smells sweet, it smells like sweat. And he loves it and it turns him on. Dirty from the garden = charming, him loves him wife, dirty and a bit sweaty from the garden = he’ll be escorting her to the bath. Now. Good DAY, Sebas. You’ve done well.

He wants her blissed out, fucked out, so lucid she loses all her manners and only has him in her eyes. That’s the intimacy he craves, that’s what he’s dying to see under the Christmas tree.

Speaking of Christmas!

He’s really dying to take her to a little country church, something homespun and humble and holy, and make love to her on a dark wood pew. He wants his hand over her mouth and her hand over mouth and he wants them to be so close to getting caught. He wants them stumbling out and giggling like young lovers and he wants her to fall asleep next to him in the carriage home.

Also speaking of Christmas: loves to see her in rich ribbons. Dark blue velveteen with gold edging is his favorite. If she’s game to present herself as a gift to him, he’ll unwrap her with an open glee he very rarely displays. He’s gotten her several ostrich-feather fans and will get her dozens more if he so much as catches her eyes on their boxes. The slow delight of her revealing herself with them is an unparalleled joy in his life.

He doesn’t like her tied up beyond the ribbons. He likes to be tied up himself. 😏 Lives for her circling a chair he sits in, there in their bedroom, and winding ropes or whathaveyou through the arms and legs and around the back to keep his body in place, all the while teasing him with loving touches and sensual offers. If he makes it through that heavenly torture, he sits tied to the chair while she spreads her legs and lets him watch her get off. If he slips out of the bonds or snaps them before she’s finished... she wins that way, too. 🤷🏻‍♀️ Has considered asking Sebastian or Leonardo to tie him to a chair for her to find, so it’s all set up and a nice surprise. Hasn’t done it but knows he won’t be able to resist the idea forever.

All of his cravings for her dependency, even the dark ones, come from the root of his desire to be worthy of her trust. He’s not too angsty about it once they make it official, but none of it is a desire to hurt or endanger her, only to care for her if she is ever imperiled. The closest he comes to that is edging and biting her, but he doesn’t enjoy edging for edging’s sake and would be Very Content to help her orgasm as frequently, blissfully, and quickly as possible. Draw out the lovemaking session, not the denial.

Oooooh, and he’s a talker, during! Of course! So smooth and polite about it, always so mannerly, which makes the crudeness really leap out. Calls her a naughty girl like he does in that hand-licking card (R.I.P. pseu), tells her that the squelch between her legs is magnificent and musical, very free with praise for how rapturously beautiful she is. Asks if she wants sachertorte or fraises avec crême pâtissière as dinner wraps up, and anyone else still at the table rolls their eyes or flees because that the offer is a coded proposition is so obvious, my god, these two, again?

The entire house ships it, it’s fine, also it is Comte’s house

Her moans thrill him, so he often echoes her. If she should call out something like “Oh, god, yes,” it will be hard for him not to do the exact same. The sounds she makes during sex make his dick throb. He’s really enjoyed sitting her on the edge of a high table and stepping between her thighs, feeding from the top curve of one of her breasts, and toying with her with both hands to get her making noise. One broad finger pressing a line down the small of her back, through the lady’s sweat beading there, and following her body between the cheeks of her ass, flirting with her rim for a long time (she clenches, it’s delightful, you can’t fault a man for pleasing his lover) before he makes true contact and she gasps. His favorite. One of many favorites.

He’s a handful man, not a pincher. He wants to have her full breast against his palm much more than he wants to tweak her nipples, and he loves to cup her cunt with his hand and stroke her slit with more than one finger. He’s all about wide, diffuse, overpowering sensations. He’ll grab (he loves to watch her skin pillow his fingers anywhere he can get it), he’ll hold, he’ll use his hold hand to grip. But he thinks of pinching as both too direct and punishing. He’s not a fan.

I could see (AND ENJOY) a Comte/MC/Leonardo triad, but personally I prefer to ship them with her individually. If it’s Comte/MC I’m convinced Comte would arrange for them to be fucking in places where Leonardo will know, at the time (by sound) or after the fact (stuff moved, a scent in the air). There’s no one else in the mansion on his level like Leonardo is, so a little bit of my dick is wetter showing off... is... gonna happen.

He would share her with Leonardo if they all wanted that, as a one-time or short term (what’s a few years of blissful threesomes between friends?) thing. I don’t think the Comte that loves MC pines for Leonardo romantically, but Leo’s understanding is the best non-malevolent way Comte is known, and there’s trust there. I also! think!!! that Comte respects Leonardo’s abilities and inclinations as a lover, so. 😏

He would drink from her until she was weak, 100%. Not every time! But would he do it? YES. Like so weak she needs to rest for a day or two. So weak she needs to rely on him and he can not only keep her in bed but satisfy all her needs, gently and attentively. It’s not about the ego of holding her life in his hands, it’s the opportunity to be the one who serves her so fully. He probably gets in some dumb, angsty tangles about not wanting to be the one to hurt her, but being deeply moved by the idea of caring for her if she were to be hurt, and not being willing to trust anyone else, ever, to hurt her for them. Ah, this goose, I fucking love himmmmmm

Comte has had a few torturous dreams of leaning her against the wall of a ruin, biting her somewhere high on her naked body, and then waiting for the blood to run down her form so he can lick it from her ankles. Her skin is so fragrant and her blood is so sweet... The way bites and blood flows work doesn’t even make the scenario possible, but the dream is deeply arousing. He is not, at all, into torturing her, but the dream is recurring and he doesn’t mind it as a fantasy. He’s got all sorts of ritualized ways to love her in mind.

He’s so in love with making love to her before they go out to plays and insisting she needs no blush or powder. He’s right, she can see it in the mirrors of their room. Keeps her color high with his hands up her skirts on the way to the theater. And at the theater, if she allows. If they see a tragedy performed he’ll be extra watchful for signs of any lingering distress on her part.

Cock warming’s not a bad idea, she is heaven incarnate, but what he really likes is to undo her with his fingers inside her body and then not take them out. If he’s wearing gloves the next morning before etiquette demands them, it’s because they’re still a bit wrinkled. 😌

Has her pose for as many classical portraits as she’s willing to endure. Touches her bare breast while the painter watches to tease all three of them. Sometimes he asks to be added to the painting. Usually not!

Happiness: a nice, wet, w i d e bite over her shoulder.

He doesn’t actually like biting her neck because he loves to kiss and nuzzle it so much, the fucking fool! 😂 He likes fleshier parts of her: the aforementioned shoulders, her instep, the curve of both her hips where they flare from the small of her waist. He’s also REAL fond of biting her on her mons and the sacred place where her bottom meets her legs. Goddddddddd. He thinks he’s a derrière man but it’s really THAT part, that hidden curve that is sometimes a crease. He’d live there if he could, and he spends many happy nights laying her out on their bed on her front, fingering her and nosing up the beloved heft of her ass so he can get his fangs into that special place on her body.

The fleshiness is partially for her comfort and partially a mouthfeel thing for him— it’s the best vampiric sensation for Comte when her blood wells over her skin in his mouth, when he can suck a mouthful of skin between the wounds he’s made.

WHEW okay that’s what I’ve got for now. Thank you so much for this ask. 😭😭😭🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️

* Sachertorte is him eating her ass while she grinds into a pillow, the strawberries would be making a slowwwwwww sash of exquisite bite marks across her back and licking each one... while she grinds into a pillow. Alfajores are her giving him a handjob while he propped over her on their bed, arms shaking because he’s not allowed to move until she says. Chouquettes are him giving himself a handjob and coming all over her breasts. Welfenspeise is ruining all the flowers in a particular part of the garden. Ciardunas...

#ikevamp comte #ikevam comte #ikevamp hc #ikevam hc #a++ aaviav #seriously thank you so much for this #pseu please... pick a direction #direction is... self-indulgence!#DADDY I LOVE HIM!!!!!! 😤

216 notes · View notes

everythinggeeky · 5 years ago

Text

Learning Distraction | Kylo Ren (College AU)

Professor! Kylo Ren x Student! reader

Warnings: SMUT (18+ ONLY), language, teacher/student relationship, age gap, academic dishonesty, semi-public sex, porn with plot lmao, kinda dubcon, oral (m & f receiving), rough sex, like no aftercare, kylo has no sympathy

Word Count: 3.1k

Summary: Professor Ren’s English 305 class was notorious for weeding out the strong students from the weak. Will your infatuation for the enthralling professor distract you from your success?

A/N: requests are open!

masterlist

Walking into the lecture hall on the first day of the semester was always a nerve-wracking experience. And on the first day of your sophomore year? Just as stressful as the first. Professor Ren’s English 305 class was described as rigorous and intense. It was a weeding course for the department, after all. It was intended to separate those who were serious about the major from those who were not. If anyone in his class showed the slightest sign of incapability or weakness, they would be dropped from the roster.

That was the agreement.

Taking your place in the second row felt comfortable. The second row shows you still care about the material but aren’t desperate for attention like all the girls in the first row; bent over in their seats, desperately scribbling down notes on Professor Ren’s lecture. Clearly distracted from his soft black waves and cleanly pressed dark button-down shirts rolled up to the elbows.

He was intimidating. Yet charming. And you were captivated.

When Ren had opened the class with the syllabus guidelines, you were immediately overwhelmed. Would this semester even be possible with a full course load? This class alone would demand all of your attention and would occupy all of your time between lectures, study groups, and independent work and reading.

His writing standards were ridiculous and unlike any other professor you’ve ever had a class with. Single-spaced 11 point font, serif-font only. Any spelling or usage error was an automatic failure. In his opinion, an upperclassman English major wasn’t allowed to make a spelling mistake. It was lazy and proved that you were incapable. In addition to his insane writing standards, Ren had assigned multiple difficult texts for the semester that was way beyond the 300-course level. There was no way you would be able to understand anything you were reading, let alone write about it.

But damn, did he look good.

His impeccably shined shoes waltzed across the lecture hall and instantly took command of the space. All of the students in the lecture hall were equally as intimidated by the course as you were, but some did a better job of hiding it. And some, like the girls in the front in their short skirts and fluffy pens, did not hide their infatuation for the professor at all. There was no doubt they were here for one thing; a chance with the black sheep of the English department.

Over the course of the syllabus week, the front row had decreased by half. The fluffy pen girls were scared away, and you were getting pretty damn close yourself. The opening assignment was due two days ago, it required a full and detailed reading of the text. The close textual analysis was the core of the assignment.

His prompts included trick questions and meaningless tidbits of information. He expected his students to take a strong approach to the text and defend it. SparkNotes could not save you in English 305. The remainder of the class assignments were structured exactly like this one. If you failed this first assignment, you would be removed from the roster.

It had taken you over 12 hours to complete the first five-page assignment. In the process, you lost your mind and all confidence in reading and understanding the English language. When you submitted at the beginning of the lecture on Friday (on paper, Ren was the only professor in the department to demand it), you were just happy you didn’t have to look at the assignment anymore.

“I’ll have these graded and I’ll have individualized comments on your papers. Areas of improvement and areas of success. You are dismissed.” Professor Ren announced, not looking into the rows of students who have already mentally checked out for the day.

Neatly packing your things into your bag, you had missed his silent approach to the table.

“y/n, correct?”

You whipped your head up to meet him, nodding “correct.”

“Glad to see you’re paying attention today. Are you enjoying the material?”

You stood from your seat, gaining a few inches but easily a foot shorter than him.

“I can’t lie and say it isn’t difficult, Professor. But after the first few readings for clarity, I did start to enjoy it.”

“Good. It’s challenging for a reason, it’ll make you a better reader and a better writer.” He walked away from your table, placing his own things into his leather messenger bag.

“Enjoy your weekend, y/n. But not too much.”

You left the hall with a curt nod, Professor Ren only a few paces behind you. Controlling your breath, you turned down the hall to exit the academic hall, returning to your dorm room to relax for the weekend.

When Monday came around, to say that you’ve been incredibly nervous about your grade for Professor Ren’s class would be an understatement. You had dressed nicely for today’s class, you had a presentation in your next class and maybe it would provide an extra boost of confidence to outweigh all of your anxiety.

Taking your seat in the second row, you found no one in front of you. They weren’t joking about removing students from the roster. Now, no one separated you from Professor Ren’s intimidating glare. Preparing yourself for the lecture, you tried to stay focused as best as you could, but today, Professor Ren was wearing a deep navy blue button-down with a skinny black tie, without a wrinkle in sight. He looked impeccable. The deep navy complimented his hair so nicely.

“y/n!” Ren declared from the front of the room, “Can you remind us what Blake told the world?” He brought you out of your daze.

“Uhh…’no bird soars too high if he soars with his own wings’….?”

“No. Blake sought to remind his readers of the beauty of nature and destruction through his works of poetry, art, and printmaking. And I suggest you pay attention to the lectures. This will be in the midterm.”

Without a response but with a heavy blush, you continued to scribble down notes on your notebook, including what Ren just said.

The rest of the lecture went relatively smoothly, and only a small amount of embarrassment. Professor Ren handed out the introductory assignments right before dismissal. He handed your assignment to you upside down, you turned it over to see it scribbled in red pen. Heavy underlining and circles seemed to outnumber your own writing on the page. You scoffed in indignation and quickly filed the paper away in your bag in sheer embarrassment. Haven’t you had enough today?

“y/n, please see me in my office after class.” Professor Ren called out to you from the hallway before you could have the chance to slip out the door.

Apparently not. Shit.

When you made it to his office, he was already sitting comfortably in the large desk chair behind the heavy wooden desk. His office was decorated floor to ceiling with bookshelves which were full of books spanning a variety of eras, most of them 18th century, his specialty. You took a curious look around, his office seemed to match exactly what you thought it would.

“When you’re done gawking, take a seat.” he was the first to speak.

Without another word or another look, you took your seat in the chair across the desk from his. Setting your backpack down next to you, you avoided looking up at your professor.

“I’m worried about your grades. You’re in danger of being dropped from my roster.”

“Is this because of the intro paper?”

“Yes, and you’ve been...distracted by other things in my class, y/n. You have incredible potential. You just need to apply yourself.”

“Apply myself? Professor...I don’t understand… I read the text, and I read your notes. I worked for hours on that paper. I don’t understand what could be the problem here.”

“First of all, your intro paper was atrocious. It was disorganized and lacked a clear thesis.”

You opened your mouth in indignation, to which Ren quickly raised his hand to silence you.

“Look at last Wednesday’s notes again. You’ll find that Walpole would’ve said otherwise.”

“Professor Ren-”

He cut you off once again, “y/n.”

You sighed, surrendering, “perhaps I had been a little distracted.”

“Distracted.”

“Yes, sir.”

“What could have possibly held your attention that is more important than Walpole?”

You hesitated to defend yourself, “you, sir.”

“Me? Perhaps something should be done about that.”

“What? I don’t understand...I can join another study group if that would help, perhaps there are other students that understand the material better than I do…”

“No. You’ve already been assigned a study group. You’ll remain there until I say so. As for your distraction, come here.” His demeanor flipped on its head.

You rose hesitantly from your seat, standing in place. He called you over with a seamless motion of his hand. With that, you stepped closer to him, keeping a reasonable distance between your bodies. From this angle, he appeared incredibly tall, taller than when he was in the front of the lecture hall.

“Professor Ren, if there’s anything I can do to keep my grade up, I’ll do it. I need this class to graduate…”

“Oh, you’ll do anything…?”

“Yes, sir.”

Without another word, he pushed you gently to your knees in front of him.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me in class, practically drooling. You’re just as bad as those sluts with their pink fuzzy pens...spreading their thighs and just hoping to get some dick to pass…is that what you want?”

You nod and then bow your head in shame as Kylo palms himself softly. He unzips the fly of his slacks and pulls himself free.

“Take it,” he growls softly.

Reaching to grasp his cock, you start jerking it slowly.

“Don’t tease me.” he snarls through gritted teeth.

Licking slowly from base to tip, you take him in your mouth. Eventually, you gain confidence and begin bobbing your head down his shaft. Ren gripped the back of your skull, pushing you deeper onto his cock. Choking, you try to steady yourself and push off using his thighs. He doesn’t let you, instead, pushing down further on him.

With a heavy groan, Ren finally releases you, pushing you back to the ground.

“Stop. Before you make me cum in your mouth like a common whore. Up. On the desk.” He orders.

You rise from your knees to sit on his desk.

“Where all naughty girls like you end up…spread your thighs for me like I know you want to.”

Propping your knees up on the sides of the desk as instructed, you revealed the thin lacy panties that were hiding underneath your short skirt. Ren took his position on his knees, eye level with your core. Looking up at you, he searched for any sign of resistance and found none, so he continued.

“You know I can take whatever I want…” he trailed off before lowering your panties off your hips and tossed them beneath his desk to retrieve later.

Spreading your folds with his fingers, he rubbed over your clit with his thumb once, twice, waiting for your signal.

“Professor!”

“That feels good, you little slut…? Soaking wet for your professor…”

“Yes sir, please! Do something...it feels so good!”

“Quiet.”

Going silent, you held back a moan when he went down on your clit. Sucking and flicking over it, you threatened to release a moan with every change of pace. His mouth was talented; it was good for more than delivering lectures and issuing critiques. At this moment, your body warmed with pleasure. It starts low in your belly and radiates outwards. Gripping onto his hair for support, you pulled him in closer to your core. He grinned at this movement, taking it as a signal to push on. He teased and saturated every centimeter of your folds, only pulling away when your gasps were so intense.

With a smirk, he took you in once more. It was the same gaze that he had been giving you in class since last Wednesday. Was it true he was lusting for you as you were for him? Like a mouse caught in his brilliant trap, you whimpered and pleaded for your release. He grinned, pulling away from your center.

“Do you want me inside you…?

“anything….I just need to cum. Please, professor.” you begged.

“Kylo...when we’re alone.”

You nodded, trying his name out for size on your lips, “Kylo...please.”

With an animalistic attack, he planted several heavy kisses along your neck and collarbone. Sucking a mark into the skin where your clavicle met the base of your neck. Marking you as much more than his student, you were unsure of what this meant for your future. Surely there was no way you could stay in class, this is definitely a disruption of the academic dishonesty policy. More than that, you vowed never to do anything of this sort in your own moral code.

There was no resisting Kylo. He was beautiful in a sort of broken, dark and alluring type of way. He had captured your mind with his, grasping you by the heart, and pulled you in.

As he kissed his way from your neck, over your chest, and over the softness of your belly, you met his gaze with yours. There was no way you were coming back from this. He fisted himself, admiring your beauty. He found you equally as ravishing as you found him. This expression of lust was primal and irresistible. Teacher and student. Slut.

Pulling you back into the moment, Kylo whispered to you, “tell me you’re ready and you want this,” with a feral look in his eyes.

“Please…”

Without another word, he thrust inside you. With a heavy gasp, your body arches into him, head throwing itself back to stare at the ceiling. Processing the immense pleasure you were feeling immediately, every nerve ending was ignited, hair standing up on every inch of your body.

Reaching a hand out to him, grasping onto his shoulder for purchase. Kylo continued thrusting without relent. Knocking over wooden cups of pens, paperclips, and miscellaneous files to the floor. Maybe your essay with a big, fat fifty-five was in that pile. That’s what got you into this situation, anyway. That, and your uncontrollable lust for your own professor.

Breaking you away from your mental tangent, he upped the intensity of his thrusts, a groan to punctuate each one. He continued at this pace until his next warning came.

“Fuck….! You better fucking be close…”He gritted through clenched teeth, hushed breath falling on the shell of your ear.

“I am...but please, Kylo...touch me…”

“Touch you…? Like you deserve it…?”

“Yes…!”

“Maybe if you didn’t fail your assignments, you wouldn’t be begging for my cock!”

“You brought me here!”

“Because you failed.”

In that moment, it all came crashing back down again.You really were just like the other girls, hoping to get even an ounce of sympathy to make yourself feel better and fill the gap in your chest. Gripping your chin roughly, Kylo forced you to look up at him.

“Your thoughts are loud.”

“What?” you looked at him.

“You wear your heart on your sleeve. You beg for approval. You need it.”

Snarling, Kylo released you from his grip.

“You are so capable. On your own.You just need to find it.”

With a long, grinding thrust, brushing his pubic bone against your clit, you feel overwhelmed with pleasure and approval. The very same approval he vowed he wasn’t giving to anyone. And he had just chosen you.

Desperate hands grabbed at any expanse of skin you had access to.

“Cmon, sweet girl, you better cum for me…”

“I will…! I’m so close…”

Grunting, his thrusts fell out of tempo and were now hurried and rushed. Pulling your hips to meet his thrusts, you moaned his name into his ear, falling over the precipice. Kylo finished himself off with a punishing pace, hushing your name at the top of his climax.You smirked back at him, grinning at the effect you had on your professor. With this, you confirmed the feeling was mutual.

After regaining his breath, he pulled his softening cock from you. Stepping back and pulling his now slightly wrinkled slacks back to his waist, buttoning and redoing the belt. You looked back up at him, and slid off his desk. You reached underneath to retrieve your panties from his desk.

“Leave them. They’re mine now.”

“I have to walk all the way across campus. I’m not leaving without them.”

“Yes you are. Guess you’ll have to figure it out.”

“Kylo-”

“It’s Professor Ren,” tucking his dress shirt back into his slacks, “this can’t continue.”

“I assumed that. But why did you say…”

“Hush. Get your things and go. You can’t be seen here for much longer.”

“Professor.”

“Make the corrections on your introductory assignment. I’ll take a look at it and give you partial credit. I think you have potential in this department. Fix it. And find your motivation.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Go.”

Throwing your messenger bag over your shoulder, filing the paper away inside, slipping your flats back on your feet, and pulling your skirt over your ass one more time, you left his office without another glance back at him. Walking across campus, you couldn’t help but wonder what this meant for the future of your so-called relationship with Professor Ren. Would the department catch on to him swinging your grade, letting you slip through the cracks of the rigorous curriculum? Would they force you to leave?

You pushed the thoughts from your head, picking up a snack and a cup of tea from the cafe on your way back to your dorm. Tossing your bag on your bed, collecting your thoughts from the last 45 minutes of your life. You decided to spend the night in, order a pizza, and fix your failed assignment. If you focused hard enough on your studies, you could maybe impress Professor Ren. Maybe there is a future for you in the department.

Independent of him? You weren’t so sure.

tagged: @hxldmxdxwn @smokahuntis @obiwkenobi @thecutestlittlebunbunfairy @empower-bi-women @jbarnesss

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x reader smut #professor!kylo ren #teacher/student #kylo ren #kylo ren fanfic #kylo ren oneshot #star wars fanfic #star wars oneshot #star wars smut #learning distraction #everythinggeeky #college au #sinful sunday

298 notes · View notes