#i mean it was still uncomfortable but i can't really hold that against them? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

luveline · 2 years ago

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𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝? | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

Your best friend Eddie tries to explain what a hickey feels like and finds he doesn't have the words. He could show you, though, if you want? [3k]

fem!reader, shy!reader, implied inexpereinced!reader, friends-to-lovers, pining, mdni heavy petting, hickeys, lots of hickeys, marking up, neck kissing, shoulder kissing, heat of the moment confessions, eddie being flirty but also a good friend, requested here

𓆩❤︎𓆪

Eddie strokes down the length of his guitar neck almost tenderly. You're focused on his hands rather than his mouth as he recounts last night's date to you, distracted by the deft movement of his fingers, which aren't exactly small. It's an oxymoron —paradoxical, even— that his thick fingers would move with such gentle precision.

You shift around where you're sitting on his bedroom floor, criss-cross applesauce with an uncomfortable heat rising from the bottomless pit of your stomach to your tight collar. The white button up you'd worn under your sweater vest is a size too small. You're really starting to notice.

You peel out of the vest and hope it'll help you calm down.

"She wasn't exactly sweet," Eddie says, plucking a string, listening to the sound, and tuning it this way or that depending on how he liked it. "I think she wanted to get it over with, which isn't really my thing. She was in my lap before I could make it clear I wasn't interested in anything quick."

You lift your gaze from his hands. He must feel you watching his face. He looks up in tandem and smiles reassuringly. "It's fine. I kind of thought she was getting into it, she was like a vampire on me at one point, but I wasn't feeling it and it's clear she wasn't either. Drove her home. How was your night, d'you watch that tape?"

You trace the coil of a black curl down to his shoulder, and can't force yourself to meet his eyes as you ask, "A vampire?"

"What?"

"She was like a vampire at one point, you said." Eddie's arm goes still. "What did you mean by that?" you ask.

He puts his guitar down on the floor. You worry you've said something truly dull for him to place his sweetheart in such a rush, but Eddie's like that. He can tell you're embarrassed no doubt, and he's giving you the answer to your question as swiftly as he can to soothe the wound.

"Here, look," he says. He pushes his hair away from his neck on one side and tilts his head, bearing a wine-stained curve of skin to you unabashedly. "She kissed me. She gave me a hickey, used a lot of teeth. That's why it's bruised so much on the edges."

Warmth you've never felt rushes in, like your blood has superheated, and it's written on your face. Eddie's room feels suddenly a thousand times smaller than before and more intimate, his poster wallpaper curving in, the space between you inching closer.

"Sorry," he says, "I know it's kind of weird to show you."

"No, I'm sorry," you say, mortified. "I shouldn't have asked you."

"Yeah, you should. You didn't get it and now you do. I don't mind telling you."

Eddie lets his hair fall back against his neck, a kinky curtain that looks ridiculously soft in the orangey light of his lamp. There's a butter smoothness to it, and the way he moves as he does is worse, his hand open and reaching for you. He doesn't hold your hand, doesn't even try, just lets his upturned palm hang off the edge of his knee as if to say, Ask me whatever it is you want to ask me. It's cool.

"Why would she do that?" you ask, gesturing to your neck.

"It's not her fault, I was flirting with her a ton trying to make it work."

"Not like that."

Eddie's hand turns toward his knee. "Like what?"

Your hand drifts to your own neck absentmindedly. You get kissing, wanting to be kissed and wanting to give them. You understand why she kissed his neck; if you'd been in her position, alone in the car with Eddie laying his charm on thick, you might climb the console and push aside his hair too.

"I know why she kissed you. I don't see why she…" You rub your lips together, your embarrassment turning sharp. You hate how humiliating this feels. "I know what a hickey is, Eds, but why would you want one?"

His turn to fluster. The tiniest tinge of pink paints his cheeks. "Are you asking me why I enjoyed it?"

"Did you?"

You despise yourself, truly. Worse when Eddie laughs, his chest forward, hair falling in his face as he chuckles sincerely.

"Yeah," he says, smiling at you "I liked it. Before she started trying to kill me I was having a good time."

He doesn't put you through the agony of asking what you both know he wants to.

You've never had one?

"It feels warm, and it's– you know how being kissed gives you butterflies, right? It's better than that. It's hot, and all her weight is on you and you have your hand on her back trying to pull her in, and she's as close as she can be without, you know." Something flickers across Eddie's face. Not longing, but a remembered pleasure. It makes you squirm.

"I don't see how it doesn't just hurt."

The hand that hadn't been reaching for you holds a pick. He flashes it between his fingers, a party trick, a nervous tic, his eyelashes tangling together as his eyelids inch closed. He scrunches his face up for a second.

"Don't hate me if I ask you something weird," Eddie says, eyes shut tight.

You don't think you could. You watch Eddie's face, knowing he can't see your analysis, and feel a shock of pins and needles in your hands when his eyes open and immediately lock on to yours.

"Do you want me to give you one?" he asks.

Your lips feel like they've been glued shut. You're aware of your breathing, how shallow each inhale has become, but you can't do anything about it.

He has the decency to acknowledge what position his question puts you in, "I know it might be weird but I can't describe it to you if you don't know what it feels like."

You surprise him. You surprise yourself. "Uh, yeah. Okay."

"Yeah?"

"It doesn't hurt?"

"Not unless you want it to." A hint of a smirk plays on his lips, though it fades quickly. "It doesn't hurt. That's not the point. But it can feel… foreign."

You nod jerkily, wishing you knew what to do.

The atmosphere is thick enough to cut through. Neither of you like it. Eddie gives you another type of smile, a familiar one that says, I'm your best friend, I always will be, so please chill out.

"You're gonna have to sit in my lap."

You actually laugh. "Eddie," you chastise, thinking it's a bad joke.

"Sorry, sweetheart, but it's that or the bed." His teasing tone is light, but he still adds, "I mean, we can do it sitting next to each other but it's difficult. Whatever you want, though."

You climb up on your knees. You're shy, absolutely, you always will be and especially when Eddie's teasing, but he really is your best friend, and the bed isn't happening.

He doesn't scare you.

He grins and ushers you toward him. "Alright, come here." He tugs one of your thighs over his lap and your breath catches. He grabs the other and any laughter between you abruptly dies.

You settle over his lap with an expression not far from pained. Eddie's hands rest against your thigh and your hip. He has to look up at you now, and he does as he encourages your weight firmly downward. You're more than conscious of where you're positioned.

"Do me a favour?" he asks.

"Yeah." You put your hand on his chest tentatively.

"Don't suffer through it if you hate it, okay? All you have to do is say something and I'll stop, but if you feel like you can't, a good right hook would work too."

"I'm not gonna hurt you," you protest.

"Me neither," he says. His hand lifts from your thigh to your neck, and he brushes his fingertips down the curve of it ineffectually. It would feel good if you weren't choking on air. "Relax, sweetheart. Please."

"I'm really warm."

"Your shirt's too tight anyway," he says, hand at your collar. He thumbs open your top button, a second, and exposes the flat of your chest. His fingers slide across your neck as he folds back your starched collar. They're cool compared to the raging heat he finds there.

You take a deep breath.

"You could put your hands in my hair," he says. Wishful thinking has hope colouring his tone.

You put your hands on his shoulders. The very tips of your fingers partition his curls.

He raises an arm above your mess of limbs to weave a hand behind your ear. It's then that you feel his callouses, so rough against the delicate skin of your scalp. Despite their texture, you find it feels good. He tucks his hand in tight, and slowly, slowly turns your head to the side.

"Look up," he murmurs.

You lift your head and stare at the ceiling with widened eyes.

He can't know but he does, and he says, "Close your eyes." The heat of his breath kisses your neck.

You shiver at the suggestion of his lips, and again when they press to your skin. Close-lipped, Eddie kisses the skin just under your ear where on the opposite side of your head his thumb strokes quarter circles. You're quickly overwhelmed by the duelling sensations. You don't notice his lips have parted until he's kissing a sloven path downward, his spit cooling in wake.

This isn't a hickey, this is straight up kissing, and you don't know what to do with how you feel. You hide your hands in his hair.

It tugs him forward. He reads your hands for enthusiasm, and if it is or isn't he pulls you closer still and opens his mouth against your skin. His teeth are impossible to ignore.

Your hand works further into his hair, getting caught in a tangle as he sucks your skin between his lips. His lazy mouthing turns insistent but still gentle, his teeth scratching ever so slightly at your pulse as it capers beneath his ministrations. You gasp at the warmth blossoming under your ribs. You cup the back of his neck a touch too tight.

He doesn't stop kissing you, only grabs your wrist to stop you from choking him out. You make a sound you've never made with him before, a mewl, all breathless and teary as the sensation worsens. Which is to say, betters.

He breaks a particularly rough kiss to suck in breath, his nose sliding up the curve of your neck as he leans back. "You okay?" he murmurs, half-lidded eyes locking onto your flushed face.

"Why does it feel like that?" you ask.

He drops his head, his nose level with your chin. "I don't know," he says, punctuating with a kiss right there, the closest bit of skin he can find. "Want me to do it again?"

You swallow and he must see it. He says nothing, wrapping his arms around your waist as he waits for you to respond. Your stomach pushes into his, your arms braced on his shoulder so you don't collapse into his front, limp with touch.

"Sweetheart, can I do it again?" he asks.

"Yeah," you say, quiet but enthusiastic. "Please."

He's slower this time. Eddie leans into your neck and doesn't kiss you at first, his lips so close to your skin that you can feel their phantom. You skin tingles from his previous scandalising, and it doesn't beg, skin can't beg, but you can, you curl your arm behind his neck and hook his head there, crushing his hair to the crook of your arm. He doesn't take much convincing beyond that. His lips smush against your neck and you feel every millimetre as they part, heat and warmth and wet spreading like budding flowers come to bloom. You melt into him soon after, and Eddie takes your weight in stride, hand at the small of your back and pulling you in so hard you can feel his ribs.

When you think you're used to it —not used to it, but expecting what can be expected— Eddie nips you. Tiny dainty kisses broken up with a nibbling you'd couldn't describe as anything but playful. He laughs at your gasping and does it again, again, giddy hot laughter mixed with one of the strangest feelings you've ever been subjected to. You're molten. You're dizzy with it.

Eddie pulls back enough to ask, "I'm gonna undo another button, okay? Just one. Is that alright?"

"What for?"

"So I can kiss your shoulder. Just your shoulder." He sounds pleading, desperately excited in a way you've never heard him and you want to know what it'll feel like, so you let him.

This next button unveils the top of your bra and the soft hills of your breasts. He doesn't look, barely glances at his hand as he tugs your shirts down your arm, diving into the juncture of your neck like he needs it to breathe. His kisses are proper compared to some of the stuff he's been doing, but then he opens his mouth and the flat of his tongue wets your skin as he kisses kisses kisses down your shoulder. His hand is somewhere under your shirt, fingers slipped under your bra strap and pulling teasingly at the elastic as he eases you down in his arms. You're shorter than him where you'd started taller, totally compressed in his arms and at his mercy.

When he pulls back, the slimmest ribbon of spit shines between your shoulder and his lips. He wipes his face with the back of his hand, his eyes glassy, and that hand cups your face. He pretty much grabs you, but there's not a lick of cruelty in his touch. Eddie's rough. Never cruel.

"You're on fire," he says. It's objective rather than joking. "You're so hot. Do you want to stop?"

"Not– not unless you want to," you say, trying to quieten your breathing. You sound like you've run a marathon. It feels like it.

"I'm gonna give you a real one, cool?"

"I didn't know they weren't real."

"Oh, sweetheart," he says, and his eyes are damning, a loving pity in the black of his blown pupils, "I was just warming you up."

Your mind blanks.

"Make sure I can hide it," you say.

You aren't thinking straight, concerned about hiding his hickeys but not what this means for the two of you. His unexpected hunger, and your willingness to let him eat you whole.

"I don't think you can hide it anymore," he says, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

You look down at his lips. They're rosy, swollen from the pressure.

He sees you looking.

He yanks you in by the waist and sizes you up, almost, like he's calling your bluff, not spiteful but something mean about him as he stares at your mouth in return.

Like he doesn't want you to make the mistake. Like he knows you won't.

His hand tips your chin up high and he ducks his own down. An inch and you'd be kissing. That's all it would take.

"Is that really what you want?" he asks.

"I don't know," you say. Is it what he wants?

It has to be.

"Have you wanted to, before?" He draws a line down your cheek with his marriage finger. Fast as a heavy tear. "You want me to kiss you?"

"Yeah," you whisper, trying to make sense of this, your sudden confession, a secret want pushed into the light.

Eddie turns his hand and strokes down your cheek with the back of it, pushing any dampened baby hairs away from your skin. His gaze softens.

"Was that so hard?" he asks.

"You knew?"

He kisses you. He's smiling, and he doesn't take just one. He must kiss you four or five times, your lips parted enough to know he could push it further if he wanted, but he doesn't. These kisses are unhurried, missing the ravenous passion of his hickeying but not the fondness.

"You don't know how hard it is," he says after he's broken away, his forehead tipped against yours, "how hard it is to have someone look at you like you look at me everyday, like I'm something you can't have."

"I didn't know–" you knew. You felt the same. His kissing is evidence alone. it's confessional.

"I know. Guess I thought nothing good would come of it, but– but I don't want good. I want you."

He pulls back quickly, like you've said something confessional rather than him. He surprised himself.

"I'm not good?" you ask.

"You're good. You'll ruin me, that's all."

You don't have time to ask him what he means by that. He kisses you again, kisses your cheek, draws a line of crescent moons down along your neck to the mess he's made of you. He kisses– he sucks your neck so hard, so sudden, that goosebumps erupt and you can't stop yourself from saying, "Ohh," as you cling to his shoulders.

This is the vampire thing he'd talked about, the points of his teeth stark against your skin even now. There's another layer of vulnerability unveiled here, knowing that he could really hurt you and knowing he never would. He kisses you until you're overwhelmed by him. Heat everywhere. Sweat shining on your skin. You don't want anything else but this.

You squeak as the pressure turns from pleasurable to too much. Eddie hears the pain in it and pulls away, instantly sorry and willing to prove it, his hands cradling your face.

You pant. He shushes you gently.

"Sorry, baby." He pets your cheeks.

Your head falls back, too heavy on your sore neck. You feel wiped.

Wiped, but good. Lax.

"That was nice," you say breathlessly.

Eddie sits up and drags you with him, hand behind your neck to prop you up. He's laughing again, his awful sweet laugh that you've heard a thousand times before. It never fails to make you smile.

"You're like a dead fish."

You cover an eye with your hand. "I take it the romance is over."

"You thought that was romantic? Babe, I'm only getting started."

Eddie gives you a quick peck. Where his hickey had felt like the heart of a star growing hotter with each passing second, his smaller kiss feels like the sun through blinds, a dappling of warmth.

"Are you messing with me?" you ask.

He pushes his arms over your shoulders for a hug.

"No. Not messing with you." His nose rubs against the shell of your ear. "It's about time we talked."

You let your hand drift down the dip of his back.

"Okay," you mumble. Talking. You need to talk about whatever it is that just happened.

"...Maybe I'll get you a glass of water first," he adds.

"That's a good idea."

𓆩❤︎𓆪

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed, and if you did, please consider letting me know/reblogging, it means the world to me and makes a big difference!! ♡ NOTE: Eddie def pines back if that isn't fully clear, I tried to imply it with his date where he could've hooked up with someone but didn't go through with it, it was cos he's too in lurve

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #ish #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things

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golden-cherry · 6 months ago

Text

deal - cl16 (31/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: The promised back massage - and friends help each other.

Warnings: 18+ (thigh riding, inexperienced!reader)

Word Count: 3.6k

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A/N: I'm so proud. Charlie won his home race! I'm still crying. feedback is appreciated!

"So?" asks Charles as you move further and further away from the beautiful house. "What do you think of them?"

You smile at him. "You have a really great family, Charles. Maybe a little wild, but it's obvious how much you love each other."

He looks at you briefly before returning his gaze to the road ahead. "I love them more than anything. Ever since my father died, we've taken every opportunity to spend time together." He swallows briefly. "We appreciate each other. And that's worth a lot."

You carefully reach for his hand, which is resting on the shift stick, and turn it so that you can interlace your fingers with his. You place it on your lap and stroke the back of his hand in gentle circles with your thumb. "Thank you for taking me here. It means a lot to me."

"Actually, I didn't have any other choice. I think my mother would have kicked down our front door if I kept you from her." Charles has to grin. "I definitely wouldn't have survived that."

"So that's how it is," you grin and let go of his hand with mock outrage. "So you only took me with you out of pure self-protection."

Before you can cross your arms in front of your chest, he grabs your hand again and brings it up to his mouth so that he can tentatively blow a kiss on your knuckles. "Do you believe me when I tell you that it's incredibly important to me that you know my family? And that you like them?"

You feel the heat rush to your face as he brushes his lips over the thin skin of your fingers. You take a quick breath and stare at him before nervously - and slightly turned on - looking away from him. "Maybe." You try to sound as nonchalant as possible and hope that Charles doesn't notice the tremble in your voice. "I'm definitely glad Arthur didn't do anything to you. I bet he was a kid back then who just bit other children."

Charles has to laugh at that. Loudly and fervently, and you don't know if he does it on purpose, but he presses your hand firmly against his muscular chest and holds it there. You feel the vibration under your fingertips and air rushing through his lungs, and his laughter is so infectious that you can't help but join in.

When he finally lets go of your hand, he wipes the tears from his face. He takes another deep breath before letting out one last laugh and then places his hand on your thigh like it's the most normal thing in the world. The warmth of his skin almost burns through the fabric of your clothes. You try not to let it show. "Believe me, mon amour. I should even have a scar from his teeth somewhere."

When you stop at a traffic light, Charles leans forward a little and pushes his back through. When you hear a few of his vertebrae crack, you grimace. "Does your back hurt?"

"A little." He leans back into the seat again, but stretches his neck to the side. "Not being able to lean back for hours is more uncomfortable than you think." When he glances at you out of the corner of his eye and smirks, you lightly punch his shoulder.

"You idiot." Charles laughs in response. "You're just after a back massage!"

"You take what you can get." His hand squeezes your thigh.

You roll your eyes. "You could have just asked for a massage, you know? I imagine the stool isn't the most comfortable piece of furniture."

Charles shrugs. "I didn't want it to be weird in any way."

Your gaze focuses on his slender fingers on your leg. "Do you mean because of this morning?" you ask meekly.

"Actually -" Charles clears his throat. " Because of Arthur, actually. He was hinting at something and - I don't know." He steers the car onto the street where your apartment is. When he takes his hand off your thigh to change gear, you miss his touch. Without another word, he parks the Renault in the building's underground garage and without looking at you, you take the elevator to your apartment.

The silence between you is a little awkward. The fact that you brought up the incident from this morning has somehow killed the mood and you'd like to slap yourself for it. You could have left it at that - after all, you had spoken to each other and agreed that everything was fine between you - but you had stupidly cast it in a different light.

You get ready for bed in separate rooms in silence. While Charles brushes his teeth in the bathroom, you change in the bedroom and slip into comfortable shorts and a shirt that you're not sure if it belongs to you or Charles. When you run into each other in the hallway, you don't look at each other, but pass each other with lowered eyes.

In the bathroom, you splash cold water on your face and are about to bang your forehead against the porcelain of the sink. Until just now, the day had been wonderful. You met his wonderful family, had a fun evening and although you had a little slip-up this morning, Charles and you got on really well. Your friendship hasn't been tarnished and apparently you've been so good to each other that the Leclerc family think you're a couple.

That's another thing you need to sort out. Between the two of you and definitely with his family. Even though you've only got to know the Leclercs properly since today, you've already grown fond of them and it doesn't feel right to fib to everyone. Above all, it doesn't feel right to Pascale, who has invited you into her home and insists that you spend Christmas with them. Pascale, who has such a big heart and didn't hesitate for a moment to take you into the family.

It's not fair to her - even if a small part of you wants to keep things the way they are. Even if it doesn't reflect reality, the word girlfriend doesn't ring false in your ears. The thought of it makes you feel warm and somehow the blood tingles in your veins.

You blame it on the long day you've had and the fact that you're too emotionally exhausted to put one and one together. How crazy would it be if you were actually Charles' girlfriend?

You immediately push the thought aside when you return to the bedroom and see Charles lying on the bed. He continues to scroll through his phone without looking at you and doesn't even glance at you as you slip under the covers on your side of the bed.

You want to press your face into the pillow and scream, but you can't do that because it definitely wouldn't ease the tension in the air. You could also cry quietly to yourself, but Charles would notice even that. But you could also -

"Am I still getting the back massage?" Confused, you look over at your friend, who puts his cell phone aside and looks at you. He shrugs and then runs his hand through his hair. "You said I should just ask. And I thought I'd try my luck." His hand wanders over the comforter and when he finds yours, he intertwines your fingers.

"Charles -" you begin, but you don't know how to finish the sentence. You're relieved that he doesn't take offense at your comment and wants to ease the situation by pretending nothing happened. You would love to kiss him for it. The thought sends a warm shiver down your spine.

"Sorry," Charles apologizes as he mistakes your awkwardness for hesitation. "It was a stupid idea. I just thought -"

"It's okay," you interrupt him and squeeze his hand, whereupon he squeezes back twice. "Apparently the stool was super uncomfortable. And friends help each other, don't they?"

The Monegasque returns your gentle smile. "Friends help each other," he repeats, his gaze flickering briefly from your eyes to your lips and back again. " 'Um - should I take my shirt off? I think that would be smarter, don't you?"

Before you can say anything back, his hand disengages from yours and in one elegant movement he pulls the garment over his head and throws it to the other end of the bed. You watch the muscles in his back flex as he slides down the bed a little and lies on his stomach without hesitation, as if he can't wait another second.

You have to strain to tear your gaze away from him. "I think I still have some body lotion somewhere." You quickly run back to the bathroom, where you spot the cream on the shelf next to the door, and sprint back to Charles, who has put his head in his hands and is smiling at you. You stand uncertainly in front of the bed, swaying from one foot to the other. "Where - I mean - how -?"

"Just sit on my legs," he says gently and pulls the blanket off him so that you can sit on top of him. "I think that's easier than from the side. Isn't it?"

"I - I don't know," you reply quietly and stop in your tracks. Of course, it would make more sense to sit astride his legs, but then you would also be sitting on him. And you definitely don't want things to get weird between you again.

"Just sit down, please. I won't bite." Charles reaches out and grabs your hand to pull you towards him. He doesn't let go until you swing your leg over his and get comfortable on the back of his thigh. "See? It's not so bad, is it?"

You're glad he can't see how hard you're swallowing. The fine hairs tickle the soft skin on the inside of your thighs and heat shoots into your face as you slide your butt around to find the best possible position. When you finally find it, you remove the cap from the body lotion. "Careful, it might be a bit cold."

"It's okay, it can't be that bad - oh fuck!" Charles exclaims as you pour the contents of the bottle onto his back. Goosebumps immediately spread across his back and arms and you have to stifle your laughter. "Don't you dare laugh at me. My goodness, you could have warmed up the cream in your hand!"

"Sorry," you grin and close the bottle again before placing it on the bed next to your knee. "I thought it would be easier this way."

"It's definitely meaner," Charles replies, glancing over his shoulder at you. "You owe me a longer massage for that. At least half an hour."

"No problem," you smile. You hope he doesn't notice your hesitation, because it takes a few seconds before your head commands your hands to rest on his broad back and spread the cream. With your fingers spread apart, you glide over his spine, his shoulder blades to his neck, where you feel the first lump under your fingertips. Slowly, but firmly, you press your thumb over the spot.

And Charles moans shamelessly. "Fuck, that feels good." He closes his eyes as you continue to work on his neck. "I think you've missed your profession."

"You think so?" you ask softly. Your fingers glide to his hairline, his muscular neck and back over his shoulders. "Maybe I wouldn't be unemployed right now."

"I'd hire you in a heartbeat." As you press the side of his left shoulder blade with your thumbs, he exhales audibly. "Yeah, right there."

Smiling, you look at him before returning to your task. "I think you're too old for that stool. I'll sit on it next time."

"You're only saying that because you're hoping for a massage too." Charles' voice sounds rough and deep, completely relaxed. With his eyes closed, he enjoys your touch and misses you biting your lower lip.

Your mouth goes dry at the thought of feeling his hands on your bare skin. You'd be only too happy to repeat this morning's incident if it meant that nothing would change between you. That you would remain friends.

Nervously, you slide around on his legs. "Maybe."

You don't receive an answer. In comfortable silence, you run your hands over his back, pressing certain points in his muscles that make the Monegasque hum and moan softly. It's nice to know that he can let himself go with you and that you seem to be doing him good.

Your hands wander down to the hem of his shorts and before you can really think about it, your thumbs slide just underneath so that you can massage the marks the shorts leave on his skin too. Charles takes a gasping breath and for a moment you think you've gone a step too far, but Charles doesn't even open his eyes as he speaks.

"I miss this."

You tilt your head, even though he's not looking at you. "What do you mean?"

"Being touched," he answers your question quietly.

You pull your fingers out from under the hem and let them glide over his spine. "We touch each other."

Charles lets out a sigh. "I know. But - I don't know." His mouth twists into a thin line. "That's something else."

"Explain it to me."

"It's been months since I've touched anyone, or vice versa. And I'm not talking about friendly touching. What we do," he explains. You don't know why your heart tightens as if it has heard bad news.

Your fingers trail over his shoulders and then down his arm. Goosebumps spread under your fingertips. "Okay."

"Not that I don't think it's nice," he tries to get his act together. "I love it when I hold your hand or when we cuddle in bed. That's not even up for debate." When your fingers reach his wrist, he grabs them and squeezes them twice. "I don't know how to describe it."

"What exactly do you mean by 'touch'?" you try to draw him out. "I mean, apparently there must be a difference between what you mean and what we do."

Charles shrugs and lets go of your hand so you can continue. "I miss having my hair played with. Or having my legs rubbed." Lying down, he runs his hand through his hair once, "I don't know."

You chew the inside of your cheek. "Do you mean - I don't know - like more intimate touching?" When you hear yourself say that, you try to turn it around again. "I mean - I'm not talking about sex. But rather that emotional connection? That you feel close to someone and touching them, like playing with your fingers or rubbing your arms, feels different?"

Charles turns his head in your direction so he can look at you. "I miss being touched more intimately. I really crave it." He turns under you so that he is now lying on his back. He leans on his elbows. You don't know where to put your hands, which is why you hold them strangely in the air. You try to fix your gaze on his face, but it flickers briefly to his abs. Something that doesn't escape Charles' notice. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"My relationship went down the drain months ago. It's obvious I'm touch starved." He sits up straight and reaches for your hands, placing them tentatively and hesitantly on his chest. "I can't stop thinking about this morning."

You can feel his heart beating under your palm and there's a sparkle in his beautiful green eyes. "We're friends," you state the obvious. The one you agreed on.

Charles nods. "And I don't want that to change either. I really don't." He exhales and you feel his warm breath on your face. "But don't you miss it? Being touched? Being touched intimately?"

As he licks his lips, your brain shuts down for a moment. "I've never - I don't - I -" you stumble over your words and heat rushes to your cheeks. You don't know why you're confiding in him. You don't know why your hands are wandering from his chest up to his shoulders. The only thing you can feel is Charles' arm around you, pulling you closer to him. His one leg slides between yours so that you're sitting on his bare thigh. You just hope he can't feel your arousal pooling in your shorts.

"Mon amour," he whispers and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear with his other hand. From there, his fingers glide along the soft skin of your neck, over your collarbone, along your arm, until your fingers intertwine again. "Your shorts are pretty thin." He leans forward slightly and lays a feather-light kiss on your neck. You blow all the fuses. "I can feel you dripping for me. Let me help you." His hand settles on your hip and gently he pushes you back a little on his leg, but only to pull you forward again. Electricity shoots through your veins as you moan shamelessly into his face. "Friends help each other. All you have to do is say yes."

Something primal flares in his eyes as he brings your hand to his mouth and places his lips on your knuckles. A gentle gesture that is in complete contrast to how you feel inside. Fire blazes under your skin, heat coursing through your whole body as he places your hand against his cheek, then presses a kiss to your palm. "Nothing changes," you murmur, to which Charles nods.

"Nothing changes," he confirms. "We stay friends." His hands slowly slide under your bottom, under the hem of your shorts. You feel his hot skin on yours as he rocks you back and forth on his thigh. "I promise."

Your crotch rubs against his leg with such relish and when the hem of your shorts catches on your clit, you burn out all your fuses. "Yes."

Charles' lips find your neck as his hands cup your ass and guide you over his leg. With your mouth open and your eyebrows furrowed, you dig your fingers into his shoulder blades. Pleasure pulses through your body as his mouth moves over your neck, sucking lightly on the thin skin but not lingering long enough to leave a mark. Each kiss is gentle, the complete opposite to his grip on your ass and the way he rubs you over him.

"Charles." Your voice is little more than a sigh and you think you can feel his raging boner against your leg, but the thought quickly fades as one of his hands pulls away from you. Instantly you miss his touch, his skin on yours, but before you can do anything, his fingers reach into your hair to gently pull your head back.

"I'm here, mon amour," he breathes against the newly won space on your neck. Gently, he sucks where your pulse is, and you think you feel his teeth against your skin for a moment. "I'm here."

You don't know where to put your hands, so you just use them to press his face closer to you. You feel his tongue at the point where your neck meets your shoulder and arch towards him. "Please."

You don't know what you're asking for, but Charles knows all the better for it. He rocks you over his leg, which is wet and slippery from your arousal, and as your knee gently bumps against his cock, he moans into your ear.

Absently, your hands disengage from his hair and scrape down his chest to the hem of his shorts, but before you can go an inch further, his thumb and forefinger curl around your wrists. "Mon amour, today is about you," he murmurs, kissing your cheek as he notices your disappointed look. "Don't pout. Otherwise we'll stop here and now."

You move over his thigh on your own and, without taking the chance, you nudge his boner again with your knee. "But you said -" you begin, but Charles lets go of your hands, only to hold them behind your back.

"Nuh-uh." His lips find their place against your collarbone. Apparently he notices that you close your eyes, because his free hand rests gently against your throat. "Look at me, mon amour." His voice is no more than a gasp as you open your eyes and look up at him pleadingly. You want him closer, want to feel his lips on yours, his cock splitting you in half. You want him to ruin you for any other men.

You approach the cliff, willing yourself to plunge down it, but when you close your eyes again, Charles merely presses your lap against his leg, preventing you from moving any further. You look at him in shock. "Charles."

"Fuck, I love it when you say my name." He holds you tight, chest to chest, and you try to move somehow, to rub against him. And he lets you. His hand loosens from your wrists while the other continues to rest on the column of your throat, but doesn't squeeze. "Look at me, mon amour," he repeats to himself, shamelessly sliding his hand inside your shorts so he can cup your ass. With one final movement, he pulls you forward, the hem of your shorts rubbing perfectly over your swollen bundle of nerves and white lightning flashes through your veins. "Look at me when you come for me."

And you do.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc prompt #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfiction #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc cute #charles leclerc x yn #charles leclerc x female reader #f1 smut #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic

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cosmonauter · 2 months ago

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best friend james without boundaries again!!

mdni, this has smut in it, i hope you guys enjoy it :))

sleepovers with james are the best thing on this planet, especially if you haven't seen eachother the whole day. meeting up with him after a stressful day, filled with studying and reading about different potion ingredients, is always such a relaxing feeling.

the way he whines about missing you, and thinking of hugging and touching you the whole day.

the way he cradles you to his broad and strong chest, thick arms wrapping around you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

the way he begs you to sleep in his bed tonight, because he had "such a bad day without you, i need you tonight, love, i can't sleep without you!".

so of course, as his best friend, it is your duty to make him feel better, and try your best at making him forget about the bad day he was having.

you're lying in his bed, wearing only his shirt and boxers, humming a tune that got stuck in your head, while sirius and peter are palying chess on the opposite side of the room.

"don't you think it's a little weird, sleeping in prongs' clothes and letting him kiss and touch you like he's your boyfriend? not that i'm judging, but i've just been wondering", sirius interrupts your little tune.

you sigh, tired of answering this question every day, "no sirius, why would it be weird? jamie and i just understand eachother and we don't get weird about cuddling and hugging eachother. that's just our love language!"

"alright, if you say so..", sirius shakes his head, as if he's disappointed. maybe he made a wrong move against peter?

suddenly the door to the restroom opens, and out steps james in his low-hanging pants, that make his v-line visible. he's still wet from his shower, his abs and chest glittering from the light reflecting of the little water drops.

he swiftly moves towards his bed, tugging the blanket up and getting under it, immediately pulling you to himself.

"jamie, you're still drenched!", you squeek out.

he smiles at you and apologises, "sorry love, didn't mean to get you wet."

sirius coughs and remus' eyes widen behind his book. " oh my god, you guys are such perverts!", you exclaim, "jamie, close the curtains, i don't want to see them anymore!"

james chuckles as he's closing the bed, laughing at the gobsmacked looks on his mates faces, "good night, boys."

you wake up to james moving against your back, " jamie?"

he mumbles your name, while rubbing up against you. suddenly you notice, that a very particular part of him was indeed in dire need of attention. you call out his name again, and start turning around to shake him awake.

as you finally manage to wake him up, his eyes widen and you can immediately see the shame and apologies swimming in his eyes, "jamie, don't even worry about it! we're best friends, if you need something, i'm happy to help you!"

"are you sure? i don't want you to feel uncomfortable or anything", he frowns at you.

"i've never been surer, really, don't worry about it!"

james never really expected to be in this situation. of course he thought about it and hoped sometimes, but he never dreamed that one day, he would get to do this.

you're lying on you back, his shirt and boxers nowhere in sight, letting him rub your chest and nipples with one hand, while holding himself up slightly with the other.

"oh my god, this feels so good", he moans out, rutting his swollen cock against your bare body.

goosebumps cover your whole body, and james wants to kiss every inch of you, mark you as his, and make you forget about any other male in your life besides him.

"you make me crazy. i'm going crazy because of you, fuck", he mutters into your neck, continuing to play with your nipples, squeezing and pulling them.

you moan out his name, and james thinks that nothing on this world will ever sound that good again. "you're so good, love. you're the best friend anyone could ever ask for, oh love, i- fuuck, i am so fucking lucky."

one of your hands runs down your body, nearing his dick. you wrap it around him, and james almost loses his control. the way your hand looks so small around his tip makes him nearly cum.

"come on, jamie.. you're doing so good, you're such a good boy, thank you so much."

james blushes and hides his face in your neck. whining, he pulls some of your skin in his mouth and starts sucking.

"jamie, stop! everyone will see, they're going to know what you did to me!"

"oh fuck, i want them to know. i want everyone to know you're mine. shit, tell me you're mine", james whimpers and starts rutting against you even faster.

you moan out and he thinks, that after this night he will not be able to live his life normally anymore. "i'm yours jamie, of course i am."

james can't hold back anymore, he really tries, but he just can't. " i'm cumming, oh fuck, i'm cumming." rope after rope of his cum cover your lower body, some of it landing on your pussy.

he looks at you with wide eyes and and apologises, promising you that he's "going to eat you out so good, just wait a moment. thank you, love, thank you so much", kissing your face and lips like he can't get enough of it. and he really can't, he's obsessed with you beneath him.

his lips start wandering from your collarbone downwards, and he feels you bucking up into him.

smirking against your skin, he starts leaving little bites here and licking over your body there.

finally arriving at your cunt, he places a little kiss right at the center of it and inhales. it smells so incredibly addicting, and james is sure, that nothing could pull him away from you at this moment.

he feels blessed, he feels so good in a way he has never felt like before. he thinks this is what going mad feels like.

"sweetheart, why have you been hiding this from me? i could have had this so long ago", he moans against your pussy starting to lick into you.

this is definitely what going crazy feels like. james feels crazy, he's going crazy.

he can't describe how he's feeling right now, every little emotion inside of him mixing together, making him incapable of forming together a sentence.

"oh my god, you, you taste so good, oh fuck", james is eating you out, like it's his last meal, moaning against you and grinding into the bed.

slowly, he drags a hand up and starts teasing your little hole with one of his fingers. "baby, i'm gonna stick my finger inside, okay? i really wanna stick it inside, please baby? let me put my finger inside you?"

he's whining, he knows that he sounds really pathetic right now, but it's you, and you are his exception for everything. you are the only one allowed to see him in this postion. no one else, ever.

your legs start shaking and you clench your pussy, as he finally puts his fingers to good use. james keeps kissing and sucking on your clit, enjoying the taste of you a to concerning amount.

he knows you're about to cum, he doesn't know how, but he feels it inside of him, like a ticking time bomb.

"come on, my love. grind it out on me, yes, just like that. feels so good, fuck, i could do this all night."

as you moan and cum on his mouth, james realizes that he will never get enough of you, now that he was finally allowed to taste you.

as you finally catch your breath again, james looks up at you with a face of worship.

"you taste so good, i'm genuinely addicted to you now." he huffs against your pussy, starting to give it little kisses here and there.

he licks your oversensitive flesh, as you whine about it being "too soon, jamie, my pussy feels so sensitive, please be careful."

"just one more time, darling, i just need one more taste", as he starts up again, your poor little pussy twitching against his lips.

i hope you liked it!! if you have any tips, please don't hesitate to help me out!!

also this is my first time writing smut, so please tell me how you liked it :))

#best friend james potter #marauders x reader #marauders #marauder era #james potter x reader #james potter smut #james potter fluff #james potter

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freakyformula · 3 days ago

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Have my baby - Max Verstappen

Warnings: 18+, breeding kink obviously, creampie, unprotected sex

Word count: 1,4k

I feel like you’d realise that Max has a raging breeding kink right in the middle of a heated makeout session one ordinary Tuesday night.

"Damn, schat, you're so beautiful… Wanna put a baby in you so bad."

His comment freezes both of you. He must have realised what he just said and stopped in his tracks, scanning you for a reaction. But your face is blank, free of any emotion.

You're in shock, Max had never even mentioned having kids of your own before. Sure, you both knew that you wanted kids someday but you had not discussed it further until now. Besides, Max was good with children, and the biggest dream you had was to have a baby with him. But his admission came as a surprise.

You huff, "Baby, huh?" Gazing up at his icy blue eyes. They were filled with shame, and his head sunk into the crook of your neck with a sigh. Your hands sink into his thick hair, and you can't help but pull on it slightly, encouraging him to look up again.

"Max, look at me." You tell him, and he does, still with that adorable frown on his face.

"Say it again." You order.

"I'm not doing that, Y/N." Max quickly replies.

You sigh. "I didn't know you had a breeding kink, Max." You wink at him.

You're really into the idea. "Baby…" You whisper while playing with his hair and brushing over your stomach, imagining feeling a baby bump under your hand.

"Liefje, I didn't mean to-" He starts, his tone slightly panicked, but you stop him before he can explain himself.

"I like that, Max." You admit. As you say that, his eyes widen in surprise.

"Really?" He coos while peppering your face with kisses.

"Yeah…" You giggle. "I mean, I wasn't exactly ready to hear that from you but I like it."

Max lets out a laugh, "I wasn't thinking, I'm so sorry. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable or anything."

You shush him, "You didn't, trust me."

He offers you a faint smile as he traces his hand against your cheek.

"Can I remove these?" Max asks rather desperately, pointing to your jeans, making you nod and assisting him in dragging them off.

When the sweet smell of you hits him, he inhales and lets out a small whimper. "God, smell heavenly…"

His words make you blush, and while he's busy taking your underwear off, you look down at his bulge.

"Need you so bad, Maxie." You whine while palming his jeans.

He answers with a couple of thrusts against your hand, feeling desperate to have you and to get out of the tightening lock-up of his pants.

Something in him switches when he sees your pussy, and he manhandles your tiny figure onto your hands and knees.

"Please Max, need you." You beg. Your hand slides down to your heat, and you're already soaked. As you're playing with your clit, you slide two fingers in, stretching yourself for him.

You hear the clinking of his belt behind you, and you look back at him, arching your back further, allowing him to see you even better.

"Such a tease…" He chuckles, and you feel something slide along your slit. Something wet and familiar. You recognize it as his tongue almost instantly, and you can't help letting out a moan.

"Hmmm, taste even better." He whispers against your core. As he's licking and sucking on your clit, his nose brushes against your seeping hole, wetting his face.

You feel yourself getting closer by the second as you feel two of his fingers penetrate you and curl up against your G-spot.

Max feels the way you're clenching around his fingers, almost cutting off blood supply to his poor digits.

Before you even had the chance to react, you came. The feeling of him on you is overwhelming and you're frantically trying to get away, but he's holding himself and you in place, still sucking on your clit and fingering you frantically.

When you've come down, Max pulls his fingers out and collapses beside you, stroking your flushed cheek with his fingers.

"So what do you say, schat?" He asks, his eyes filled with adoration.

"About what?"

He pauses before he speaks, "Let's have a baby." He says, still looking at you.

"Max…" You try to sound serious but the thought of having his baby is tempting. "You're away all the time for work. It wouldn't work."

"I'll quit if you want me to. Just have a baby with me."

Silence. You try to come up with a good excuse, but the post-orgasm haze makes it hard. The only reason you're waiting is because of his career. And if he quits, there's no reason for you to wait. "You can't stop racing just because you want a baby, Max."

"Watch me, Y/N… Besides, if we make a baby now, it'll be born in the off-season, it's perfect!" He tries to resonate.

"You've planned this really well, haven't you?" You giggle.

"Mhm… You would make the most beautiful mama. You and pregnancy would complement each other." He coos while rolling you over onto your back, kissing you all over your face, making you burst out in laughter.

"Okay, okay, I give up!" You laugh, allowing Max to hover over you.

"Let's make a baby." You whisper, not sure if he heard you.

"Oh… Love." He sighs contently while pulling your hoodie off and freeing himself from his jeans and underwear. "I love you." He leans in and catches your mouth in a searing kiss, his cheeks flushing with each word.

The thought of making love to you without any barriers, feeling you for real, sends Max reeling.

His knees push your legs apart, placing himself between them. Max can't help capturing your lips in a hungry kiss, tasting your lips with his tongue. Excitement runs through him as you run your fingers down his body to his pulsating member, you grab it and give it a few pumps before brushing it against your cunt, collecting the slick from your previous orgasm on his tip.

"Are you really sure about this?" He asks for confirmation one last time.

"I'm sure of it, Max." You reply, giving his nose a gentle kiss.

Max is beaming at you when he hears the words, and slowly slides into you, connecting two bodies into one. When the tip is in, you stop him with a hand on his stomach. You would never get used to his size. "It's okay, schat, take a moment." He tries to comfort you.

Once you've adjusted to him, you nod to indicate your readiness to continue. He slowly burrows into you, ensuring you feel okay and as comfortable as possible while showering you with praise and encouragement.

"Doing so well for me, liefje."

"Looking so good like this."

"Our babies will be just as beautiful as you."

"I'm so lucky to have you."

When he bottoms out, you moan out brokenly, as does he. The feeling of him sheathed in you almost sends you into a raging orgasm instantly, in any case, you're close.

"Look at me, Y/N." He asks as he pumps into you. Your eyes are squeezed shut as you are desperately trying to keep yourself together. When you hear his words though, you open your eyes, only to find him close, looking at your contorted face. The sight of him aids your impending orgasm, and you're pushed over the edge with the help of his thrusts.

As you moan out your second orgasm, you suck Max' delicious lower lip into your mouth, while rocking your hips to get some kind of relief. Max doesn't let you come down this time and continues pumping into you, increasing his pace.

You are both a moaning mess; kissing, sucking, licking each other wherever your mouths happen to land.

"Can't wait to see your stomach swell with my child, lieve." Max stills, out of breath, drops of sweat decorating his forehead. He stills in you, pulling your legs up on his shoulders, folding you in half. The change of angle, his tip against your G-spot, drives you into a frenzy. You're hyper-aware of everything happening, his hands on your body leaving goosebumps wherever he touches, his eyes on you, feeling like fire, his thrusts, god, you're going to cum again.

You clench around him, "My god, I'm close." Max announces, "Please, cum with me." He begs while he picks up the pace, slamming into your cervix again and again until you both yell in ecstasy. You feel streaks of his seed painting your insides while you milk his member dry.

Max collapses on top of you, spent and tired. "Jesus, Y/N."

You giggle into his shoulder, you too feeling tired, but happy.

"What if it actually sticks on the first try?" You ask.

"Might as well go for another round to up our chances." Max winks at you.

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vivwritesfics · 7 months ago

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Quidditch Thighs

Lando and Max have big ol thighs from Quidditch. Charles and reader show them just how much they love them

Warnings: Smut, foursome, thigh riding

This was requested by @norrisleclercf1 and it's just been sitting here in my drafts for the longest bloody time, i legit can't believe it's taken me this long nat i'm so sorry i've been thinking about this fic daily

She loved to watch her boys playing quidditch. Especially in the summer, where she could sit outside on the grass and watch Lando and Max.

They always trained together. Whether the rest of the Slytherin team were with them or not, they always trained together. Charles, too, joined in, but that was a rarity. They had classes at different times, meaning the time they got to spend together was rare. Rare, but treasured.

She read on the grass as she watched them. It was quiet, with the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs still in classes. At the bottom of every page she looked up and watched as they raced each other to the snitch.

From her position on the grass she couldn't see the smiles on their faces as they chased each other. At one point the stitch was long forgotten and they just chased each other .

While she was reading, several of her fellow Ravenclaws came and sat by her. "We get why you sit here now," One of them said, wearing a smirk.

"Huh?" She asked as she looked up, slipping her bookmark between her pages. "What do you mean?"

"Well," another one began as she leaned back, propped up by her palms. "Look at their thighs. I wouldn't mind taking a seat there."

She was incredibly embarrassed as she looked between them. "W-what the hell, guys?" She cried, holding her book to her chest. "You know I'm dating both of them, right? Like, you're literally thirsting over my boyfriends in front of me."

"At least we haven't said anything about Charles," said the third. "Even though he is so hot."

Suddenly she was incredibly uncomfortable. Her grip on her book tightened and she looked at the Quidditch pitch. But even that felt wrong, especially with all of the things the other Ravenclaws had said.

She stop responding to them and they quickly stood up and walked off, clearly bored.

Eventually, Charles came and sat beside her. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close as he kissed the top of her head. "Hey, chérie," he said quietly as she leaned against him.

Her response was mumbled. "What's up?" He asked softly, kindly. That's how Charles always was with her. Sweet and kind and so loving.

So, she told him what the other Ravenclaws had said to her, how it made her feel. Charles listened, nodded along and kissed her head again.

"Want me to go, uh, have a word with them?" He offered and she shook her head. No, that would have only made things worse. Charles knew that, but he still offered, making her feel loved. "They are right, though," he said. "They have no right to say it to you about our boyfriends, but they do have really nice thighs. Really sexy thighs."

"Charlie, I know!" She cried, gently hitting his chest. "I know, but they our boyfriends. They can't say that about our boyfriends." The last part was said quietly, muttered as Charles pulled her into his chest.

He laughed and she smacked his shoulder. "Okay, okay. How about we go down to the dungeon and show them just how much we love those thighs?"

She thought about it. They had the password to get in (Max wrote it in the back of Charles's notebook every time it changed, and it would be a welcome surprise for their tired boys.

Slowly, she nodded, but it soon picked up speed. "Yeah, okay. Let do it, let go. Now, c'mon, lets go," she said in quick succession and pulled Charles to his feet.

It wasn't clear whether Max and Lando could see them go. They (being her and Charles) weren't to know that the boys stopped their quidditch practice the moment they saw their partners had gone.

Max and Lando didn't know why they didn't expect it, why they didn't expect to find their partners on their beds in the Slytherin common room. "Shit," Lando hissed as he watched them, tangled together, lips locked. "Did you guys want for us?"

She pulled away from Charles, his leg between her own. "We tried," she whispered and buried her face against Charles's neck.

Lando stripped himself out of his quidditch robes. He climbed onto the bed with them, gently pulling the two of them away, attaching his lips to Charles.

Max gently pulled her over to him. He sat her on his lap and stroked his thumb over her cheek. "You look so pretty," he whispered and kissed her. And, as he kissed her, his hands on her hips, gently moving her on his thigh.

Whines left her lips as Max moved her. He pulled away to kiss down her neck, his grip on her tightening. Where he moved her gently against his thigh, she sped up, gripping his shoulders. "Max," she whispered, eyes shutting as she rested her forehead against his chest.

Suddenly, a hand was holding her own. She raised her head, looked at Charles and Lando toyed with him. "What is it, Schat?" Max whispered against her neck.

She simply whined, and he had barely touched her.

The friction was getting to be too much and too little all at the same time. She let out a cry and tried to pull away from Max's thigh, but he held her there, held her still. "What do you need?" Lando asked as he looked away from Charles.

Breathlessly, she looked at Lando and Charles over Max's shoulder. "Touch me," she squeaked, breathlessly. "Please.

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strwberri-milk · 2 months ago

Note

Hii!! I was wondering if I could request headcanons with LaDS boys with reader that have lots of self harm scars?? I know it might be a little too heavy or something so I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable with this ask, if I did please feel free to ignore it!! I'm just feeling a little self conscious lately and I'm craving for some sort of fluffy scenarios regarding that and I really love your writing so I decided to give it a shot.

thank you in advance and I hope you have a wonderful day!! 🫶

sh mentions under the cut!!

Zayne notices them whenever you come to him to complain about an ache or pain in your body. He's very thorough with his examinations but he's also very good at keeping a poker face so he doesn't actually ever mention anything.

Instead, he keeps track of your mood and whenever he notices that you're feeling especially sad or distressed he'll distract you in a plethora of ways. You'll never really know that's what he's doing but he's always very kind to you regardless.

One day he'll ask you if you still struggle with your emotions. He doesn't dance around the topic so you quickly figure out what he's getting at. Regardless of your answer he'll hold you close and tell you that if you ever feel hurt to come to him. He'll do anything and everything for you - you just need to ask.

Xavier notices but he also doesn't want to ask about it. He mulls over the new information he's just come across from you and decides that once he feels ready to ask you, he will. He asks you in a very gentle manner, holding your hands and telling you that if you ever feel like hurting yourself he'd much rather you go talk to him. He's more than happy to find other ways for you to help work off your negative emotions, even if it's been a while since you've done anything. He's basically imploring you at this point so you really can't say no, knowing that he wants more than anything that you're okay.

Rafayel's eyes linger over the scars for a little too long. You can't help but feel yourself growing self concious as you hide them from him, telling him that they're from a long time ago and that it's no big deal. You worry that he's going to be turned off now, that he's never going to look at you the same. You're turned away from him so you don't see the concerned look in his eyes but he knows that looking upset wouldn't do anything for you.

He pulls you into his arms and holds you tightly. He doesn't say anything but you know that he's worried for you with the way his finger taps a random pattern against your arm. You don't need him to speak to know what he's getting at, burying your face in his chest.

Sylus wants to ask you about them right away but he chooses not to. He assumes that you'd come to him when you need to but that doesn't mean he doesn't think about it. You know he's thinking about you because sometimes he'll seem a little distracted, looking at you in an almost pointed manner before realising he's staring at you.

You don't have to talk about it to him - if you never do, then you never will. If you choose to talk to him though he's very appreciative of your time, thanking you for being comfortable enough to speak to him about your struggles. He listens attentively and promises that he'll always be there for you, telling you that you never have to resort to something like that ever again.

#love and deepspace x reader #l&ds x reader #zayne x reader #xavier x reader #rafayel x reader #sylus x reader #l&ds zayne x reader #l&ds xavier x reader #l&ds rafayel x reader #l&ds sylus x reader #lads zayne x reader #lads xavier x reader #lads rafayel x reader #lads sylus x reader #lnds zayne x reader #lnds xavier x reader #lnds rafayel x reader #lnds sylus x reader

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dracowars · 10 days ago

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knight in shining armour | elrond

pairing: elrond x elf!reader

word count: 5,5k

summary: where elrond and y/n have to make fatal decisions in war

a/n: i'm having so much fun with writing in this universe i haven't had in a long time (with writing in general) and i think that's beautiful <3 season 2 elrond really did it for me, so i hope you enjoy this flangsty fic. don't forget to reblog and give feedback, it means the world to me ♡

warnings: angst, violence, mentions of blood, mentions of injuries, miscommunication (kind of), elrond kisses galadriel

universe: the rings of power

You hold your breath once you step into the dimly lit tent, teeming with orcs and their smells. Carefully, you place one foot in front of the other, never taking your eyes off the enemy who is currently watching three elves enter its territory. Amidst all these orcs and darkness, you couldn't stand out less in your polished white armour.

You follow Vorohil who is walking directly behind Elrond, and quickly spot the Father of the Orcs sitting on a makeshift chair that almost resembles a throne. Your gaze doesn't linger on him for long, however, because something or someone else catches your eye. Galadriel is standing right behind him, tied up and leaning against a post. Her eyes widen when your gaze meets and everything in her face screams for you to not be here, to turn around and leave again immediately. But you are here to help her, to free her from the clutches of the enemy, from the claws of evil. And you won't leave without her.

One of the orcs tells Elrond to sit opposite Adar, and he does as he is told with so much confidence you hardly recognize the sweet, curious boy behind the mask. Vorohil positions himself to his left, you stand on his right, ready to step in at any time should something go amiss.

You are more than aware of your situation: right in the mouth of the enemy whose teeth could pierce your flesh any moment, with absolutely no escape. Should this turn out to be a trap and part of Adar's plan, you have stepped right into it. Yet, Elrond insisted on not bringing a weapon of his own. You, on the other hand, have hidden daggers all around your body that you could pull out in the blink of an eye if the situation arises.

Even though all eyes are on Elrond, you still feel uncomfortable. You have never been this close to orcs before without fighting them at the same time.

"The ring you carry. Show it to me", Adar opens the conversation, and you inevitably flinch. Of course he shows interest in the ring. Like all of Middle-earth, it may seem.

"A foolish act if I had brought it here", Elrond answers in a firm voice and appears calm and collected, stoic almost, one arm draped over the armrest.

Adar's expression tells you that he is less than satisfied with this answer. What he doesn't know, however, is that the ring is closer to him than he thinks possible.

Its metal presses cold against the skin between your collarbones, your heart thumping loudly at the mention of it and your mind drifts back to the moment when it was handed to you.

'You shall have it', Elrond tells you, wearing that gentle smile on his lips that always adorns his features when he's around you, that makes your heart beat faster every single time. He places Nenya in your palm and when the light reflects in its beauty, you gasp. This small ring, inconspicuous at first glance but incredibly beautiful, contains a power you can't and don't even want to imagine.

'No, Elrond. I can't', you whisper, afraid that your voice might break. He now clasps your hand with both of his and gently closes your fingers around the piece of jewelry.

'My love. I wouldn't trust anyone else to keep it safe', he tells you with so much confidence and affection in his voice that you can't help but believe his words. The way he stands in front of you, his brown locks falling into his face, his eyes clear and bright, and holds your hand tightly leaves no room for further discussion. He trusts you with this power and you won't fail him.

'You can consider yourself a ring bearer now', he smiles, gently guiding your fist to his mouth to place a light kiss on top of it, his other hand cupping your cheek while doing so. His eyes linger on your lips for a second too long, but before you can say anything, he is summoned to the High King.

"It was Celebrimbor himself who welcomed Sauron in. You cannot save him. You can save Galadriel", Adars voice brings you back to the present. The circumstances you find yourself in make it hard to believe his words. He won't let Galadriel go willingly and Elrond will never give him the ring voluntarily. Since it is in your possession, you don't plan on handing it over either. No matter how much more danger that puts you in.

"It is an earnest offer. I suggest you take it", Adar continues, staring solely at Elrond from across the table, and stands up from his seat. "And leave Sauron to me."

The mention of this name sends a shiver down your spine. A name that describes pure evil. It is obvious from the way Adar says his name that he feels as much hatred towards him as the elves and all other inhabitants of Middle-earth. It makes you a little suspicious, after all, Adar was once a loyal servant of Sauron.

Once more, your gaze slides over to Galadriel when Adar walks around the table. One of the orcs holds his sharp weapon against her throat, a sign to not even think of making a wrong move. It is known that Galadriel was deceived by Sauron, or Halbrand as she used to call him, which is why her face reacts to his name, too.

She whispers something and you try to read her lips, but you don't get a chance when Adar suddenly stands right in front of you, blocking your view. Although he is still talking to Elrond, his full attention is now solely on you.

"You must know you cannot defeat me in battle. I will outmaneuver you, my forces outfight yours, and you will fall", Adar spits out, searching your face for any signs of fear, but you hold your ground and present him with your best death stare in return. But inside of you, it looks much different. Chaos rages within your mind and veins, your heart is beating so fast that it's pounding in your ears and Nenya is pressing painfully against your skin. You send a prayer to the Valar that Adar won't suspect anything, that he can't see behind the mask you've put on. Because you don't know how much longer you can keep it up, especially not under his relentless gaze.

Adar takes another step towards you and you can now feel his breath on your skin. Since he knows that you cannot resist him at the moment, he uses this to his advantage. His eyes search your face, but you cannot say what exactly they are looking for. Whatever it is, he doesn't find it.

"You will fall and all your little elves with you", he says in a calm voice, but his words are filled with hatred. At this, Elrond suddenly raises from his seat as well and positions his body between the two of you, enabling you to finally breathe again, your heartbeat slowing with relief.

"Not before you have painted the sands of the Glanduin black with the blood of your kin", Elrond tells him, briefly looking over to the orc whose blade is still at Galadriel's throat. His hand behind his back indicates that you should remain calm. Some of the orcs around you growl.

"My children have endured cruelties your bravest couldn't bear to hear spoken aloud."

"Are you prepared to spend their lives so freely, Adar?", Elrond confronts him, his words sounding accusatory. "Are they?"

Peaking over Elrond's shoulders, you see a clear shift in Adar's face, in his eyes. Apparently Elrond has struck a nerve with his words, the orcs becoming more and more restless as well.

"The ring for Galadriel's life. What is it to be?", Adar once again presents him with the tough decision, to choose, to pick one and let the other down. Before answering, Elrond closely walks past Adar, drawing his attention away from you and what it is he desires most. From your position, you only see Elrond adjusting his cloak before he casts another glance at Galadriel. Their eye contact lasts almost a moment too long before he then returns his attention to her captor.

"Ask me on the field, when the neck with a blade against it is yours", Elrond tells him, his deep voice making it sound like a threat. The orcs around you begin to seethe and snarl again and all of a sudden you are very aware of the dagger strapped to your shin, hidden beneath the leather of your boots.

"Very well. I will meet you there", Adar replies, his voice carrying a tinge of amusement after he gave him a once-over. And for a moment you think he actually agrees, that this decision can be made without shedding any blood, no matter red or black. That is until he finishes his sentence.

"With her head on a pike."

You want to step in, to say something, anything to help get Galadriel and the ring out of here, but you don't even know what. And you don't want to risk putting Elrond in danger by acting rashly. That is why silence ensues for a moment while Adar and Elrond just stare each other down challengingly, neither of them backing down or even thinking about giving in.

"If that is to be the way of things, I should like to bid her farewell", Elrond finally answers him, causing a gasp to escape your lips as you unintentionally take a step forward. But Vorohil stops you by putting his arm out in front of you, preventing you from doing something you might regret later.

You can't believe what you're hearing, what just left Elrond's mouth. Galadriel, on the other hand, seems just about pleased with this decision, because it means that no one will be harmed because of her. At least no one who is currently present in this tent.

To your surprise, Adar grants him this favour and lets him talk to Galadriel one last time. All eyes are on them, but you can't hear what they say to each other; their voices too quiet. You watch in disbelief, however, as Elrond softly touches her face and suddenly leans in to her, connecting their lips in a gentle kiss.

All of a sudden, you find it difficult to breathe. You distinctly feel your heart breaking in two. The tent feels too small, too cramped, and tears well up in your eyes. No longer able to bear the sight, you lower your gaze, clenching your hands into fists at your sides. Although no one should be looking in your direction at this moment, it does not go unnoticed by Adar. He notices the pain in your eyes and in your entire life you have never felt so at the mercy of the enemy as you do right now.

You thought there was something between you and Elrond, a mutual, deep understanding that connected you. When by his side, you felt safe and loved. Until now you thought he returned that feeling and that there could be something more between the two of you, one day.

Apparently you were wrong.

It may have only been a few seconds, but for you it feels like several agonizing minutes before Elrond and Galadriel separate again. As soon as Elrond turns away from her, your eyes meet and a sharp pain ripples through your body, as if someone had stabbed you directly in the chest. Elrond's eyes are sad, suffering almost, and he looks at you with so much pity that you wish to disappear into thin air.

Elrond blinks a few times before making his way straight out of the tent.

"Vorohil. Y/N", he calls out your names, a silent command to follow him. Your gaze meets Adar's again who is watching you with his head tilted as you leave the tent together. You entered it as one, as a unit, but you leave it shattered.

You follow them out, the sun blinding you, but due to the tears you are still trying to hold back you couldn't see much from the beginning anyway. The orcs swarming around you aren't at all helping with the chaos that are your emotions.

You fall behind the two men. As if you were in a tunnel, you hear Vorohil bombarding Elrond with all sorts of questions in the distance. Questions whose answers are no longer important to you.

When they stop in front of you, you almost crash into them, too busy with all the thoughts swirling around in your head.

Was it all just a lie, a plot? Was he just using you to protect the ring? To have someone to sacrifice?

Your common sense tells you that this simply cannot be true, that Elrond has not been leading you astray and that what you feel for him is reciprocated inside of his heart. But your broken heart painfully beats in your chest and tells you something completely different.

You watch as Elrond mounts his horse and gives Vorohil an order, but the words do not reach your ears. You only see him in front of you, a knight in shining white armour, the sight of whom used to give you so much joy, made your heart beat faster and your cheeks blush. In the tent, you were willing to take a blade for him until the very end, but everything is different now.

Elrond's gaze wanders from Vorohil to you and all the sadness from before has disappeared from his face, replaced by a neutral expression. The expression of a warrior on his way into battle.

"Meantime, I will ensure that Eregion's walls hold for one more night", you finally register his words as he looks straight at you. Without another word, he puts on his helmet and rides away. An unspoken order hangs in the air and you swing yourself onto your own horse. After all, he is still your commander, whom you will always follow into battle, come what may.

════════════

Your legs are shaking, your hands sticky, covered in blood and mud. Your movements are shaped by exhaustion. Nevertheless, your blade sinks into the flesh of another orc who falls to the ground with a gurgling sound. With all your strength, you pull out your sword and stumble back a few steps, your gaze wandering over the battlefield in front of you.

Corpses over corpses scatter the ground. Some brave warriors are still fighting against the few remaining orcs, but there is no way out. You have lost, Eregion has fallen. You are shocked to realize that you have lost so many elves today, friends and strangers alike.

This realization hits you with so much force out of nowhere and you collapse to the ground, onto your knees, and let out a scream filled with pain and sorrow and all of your remaining strength. You fought, side by side, and in the end it was all for nothing. The forces of Adar have taken you by surprise and no one was prepared for the chaos that would ensue. Now you find yourself in the mud, surrounded by the dead, the last sounds of battle wafting towards you, and you feel utterly and completely alone.

You lost sight of Elrond since the troll's attack and Arondir is nowhere to be found either. Just thinking of Elrond gives your wounded heart another stab that cannot be compared to any wound inflicted in battle. Ever.

A tear finally finds its way down your cheek, but you are quick to wipe it away with your dirty hand. You can't show weakness, not even now when you feel incredibly overwhelmed. You don't even know if Elrond is still alive, and you scold yourself for still worrying about the man who took your feelings for granted.

But of course you do, you love him.

You don't know if it's the ring still around your neck or your instinct, but something tells you to look toward the fallen walls of Eregion, to get one last look at the once beautiful city. And there you see him.

Elrond.

Kneeling.

In front of Adar.

Without hesitating for even a split second, you gather all your strength and stand up. You approach them quickly and watch as Elrond attacks Adar with his dagger, but Adar parries his attack by violently grabbing his arm. With a whimper, Elrond drops his weapon. You stand still as Adar's hand closes around Elrond's throat and lifts him above the ground, choking him. The sounds that escape from Elrond's mouth will haunt you in your dreams.

"Where is it?!", Adar shouts at him, losing his composure. Elrond's hands claw at his, trying to somehow prie them away, but to no avail. The battle has left Elrond weakened. Adar, on the other hand, seems to have gained more strength from it. At that moment, Elrond spots you, and even though you only look at each other for a second, Adar immediately notices Elrond's shift of attention. He turns his head in your direction, and if you didn't know better, you'd think surprise flashes across his face. Apparently he didn't expect to ever see you again.

"Let him go", you command, your voice trembling and your sword pointing at him.

"Or what?", Adar asks spitefully, raising an eyebrow. Not knowing how to answer, you look at Elrond again.

"G-Go", he chokes out.

You look at him in shock and immediately shake your head. You would never leave him behind. Adar follows this encounter with interest and with a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth when something dawns on him. The next moment, he pushes Elrond to the ground forcefully who desperately gasps for air.

You want to rush to his side immediately, but Adar draws his own sword and pushes the tip directly against Elrond's throat who is still gasping for air and hasn't even managed to sit up.

You freeze when you see blood.

"So that's how it is, I understand", Adar murmurs loudly, seemingly amused by something. Then, he reaches out his open hand towards you, catching you by surprise.

"The ring. Or he's dead."

Your eyes inevitably widen, but you no longer have the strength to put on a mask and hide your true emotions. And in doing so, you put everyone in danger.

"D-Don't listen t-to him", Elrond stutters, his eyes full of terror when he meets your gaze. He is not afraid of dying. He is afraid that the ring will fall into the wrong hands.

You gave him your promise. When you accepted the ring, you simultaneously promised that you would protect it with your life. And you still stand by that.

But right now, this is not about your life.

"Hurry or your sweet commander will soon find it extremely difficult to breathe", Adar threatens and presses his blade even harder into Elrond's skin, making him whimper in pain.

He can't speak anymore because of the life-threatening weapon at his throat, but his tear-filled eyes scream at you not to give in. But how could you not?

You move your lips and form the words 'I'm sorry', but no sound wants to escape your throat, your vocal cords failing terribly.

Lowering your sword dejectedly, you feel for the silver chain around your neck and eventually pull it over your head. Nenya dangles at the end, catching the sunlight that slowly but surely breaks through the clouds. Your hand trembles as you place the ring in Adar's palm, feeling like a failure.

Not just to yourself, but to your entire kind. And above all, to Elrond.

As soon as Adar has the ring in his possession, he removes his sword from Elrond and lets you approach him. You immediately fall to your knees beside him. Elrond gasps for air and coughs repeatedly, his head thrown back in defeat. You support his head with one of your hands, helping him to sit up.

"Forgive me", you sob quietly, but get no answer from him. He watches silently as you are surrounded by orcs who were just waiting to take you as prisoners.

And the whole time you can only think of one thing: You betrayed them all.

════════════

You were about to set out to help her on your commander's orders. But it was already too late. You only saw a white figure falling down the cliffs. Now you're running through the dense forest, searching the ground, looking for a body. Every inch of your own body hurts, the cuts across your face throbbing painfully, but you have to keep going, keep walking just a bit longer, because she could be lying behind the next tree and you would never forgive yourself if you didn't find her.

Taking a break and catching your breath for a second, you lean against a tree, the battle taking a heavy toll on your body and strength. Suddenly you fleetingly notice a white shimmer to your right and run straight towards it, your ribs hurting. You breathe a sigh of relief and, at the same time, shock when you see Galadriel's motionless body on the ground, her arms stretched out at unnatural angles.

Without wasting any time, you rush to her, lifting her head so that you can gently place it on your lap. Loudly, you call out to the others that you have found her.

Her face is covered in soot and blood, her eyes closed. As you look at her like this, you once again realize how truly beautiful she is, even on the treshold to death. Your thoughts make your heart ache deeply, because how could Elrond not take a liking to her?

"They will be here soon", you whisper encouragingly, although you are not even sure she can hear you and your voice sounds anything but heartening. Your gaze lands on a large wound on her shoulder, the source of black streaks that are running across her armour. Carefully, you lift her armour with shaking hands and recoil in shock, as if you burned yourself, when you see a dark mark carved into her skin.

You don't get the chance to think about it any further, however, when Arondir and the High King finally arrive at your side. You let Gil-galad help Galadriel and take a few steps back, giving them enough space. As you do so, a light catches your eye, coming from under a branch. The relief you feel deep inside when you spot Nenya is overwhelming.

The High King tries healing Galadriel with the help of his ring. In Quenya, he orders her to step back into the light and leave the darkness behind her and her soul. With tears in your eyes, you watch as Galadriel takes heaving breaths, her eyes blinking violently, but she doesn't come back. Every passing second, she leaves the light a little more.

When you hear footsteps, running quickly at first and then slowing down abruptly, you don't have to turn around to know that it is Elrond.

"We're losing her", Arondir says and looks around helplessly. You see as much pain in his eyes as is reflected in yours and Elrond’s.

When you look over at Elrond at last, your heart stops beating for a moment. You thought you had already seen him at his lowest, where things couldn't have gotten any worse, completely devastated, but the way he is looking at Galadriel right now convinces you otherwise. The sadness that adorns his battle-torn but still beautiful features brings even more tears to your eyes.

His heart seems broken, crying for Galadriel.

"The darkness is too powerful. I cannot save her", the High King utters in defeat.

Even though it is only for one short moment, you hesitate. You hesitate to give the ring to Elrond, afraid of what might happen then, that your heart will crumble into even more fragile pieces.

"You can", you hear your own voice from afar and give Elrond the ring that you lost earlier. Elrond's eyes suddenly become clearer, brighter as he takes it, feeling it in his palm. But his eyes tell you that he is afraid, too. Afraid that he may not be able to save her. He fears he might lose her.

Gathering all your remaining strength, you force an encouraging smile onto your face, nodding and indicating that he should go to her. Elrond doesn't return your smile, he still looks at you with so much suffering in his eyes, but his facial features are more at ease now as he nods back at you. His way of thanking you.

"We can", he states, to convince himself once again before he puts on the ring.

════════════

You stare at your own reflection, which looks up at you from the quiet water of the river. You dip your fingertips into the water, the waves that result distorting your face. The wounds that covered your face have been cleaned and treated, only slight cuts still visible. There is nothing to do but rest and reflect while everyone waits for Galadriel to awaken.

You are not startled when you suddenly see another reflection, a face above your own, for you have heard him coming.

"Galadriel has awakend", Elrond lets you know and elicits nothing more than a nod from you. "She is up and well."

"I'm glad", you reply and see his brow frowning, his eyes growing sadder in the reflection of his face in the water. Which surprises you in all honesty, because he should be filled with happiness right now. You may have lost the rings for men and many of your elven friends have fallen, but in the end you are alive and safe. Galadriel is safe.

In fact, you admit that you feel relief that she seems to be doing well, but it somehow still hurts just thinking about the kiss they shared.

"May I.. May I have a moment of your time?", Elrond asks you now, after a few seconds of silence, filled only by the chirping of birds and the rustling of the trees around you. This place is truly a sanctuary.

His voice sounds so fragile that you can't help but raise up and turn to him, folding your hands in front of your lower body.

"I bestowed the ring upon you as a token of my faith in you", Elrond explains and you notice from the small wrinkles on his forehead that he is having difficulty finding the right words.

Meanwhile, you just want to leave. You can't listen to him express his disappointment about your actions. After everything that has happened, you're just not strong enough anymore. Your heart is not strong enough.

"I entrusted you with it because I didn't trust myself", he continues, looking into your eyes, but you avert them and focus on the grass on the ground. "Because I knew that, if the situation occurred, I would have acted the same way you did."

A look of surprise crosses your face as you lift your gaze and meet his glistening eyes.

"If the roles had been reversed, I would have given up the ring, too. For your life", Elrond states, his eyes solely focused on yours. "Because when it concerns you, I'm simply too weak. You are my weakness. By giving Nenya to you I thought I could prevent myself from losing it. Instead, I placed the burden upon you."

Your heart beats loudly in your ears, not quite understanding what he is saying.

"But Galadriel-"

"What you saw.. It was a distraction. Galadriel is merely a good friend, whom I love differently", Elrond explains and his voice tells you how sorry he is. "I gave her the pin off my shoulder piece to give her a chance to escape. I couldn't guarantee that it would work, but I took the risk. And I was willing to hurt you by doing so."

He carefully reaches for your hand and you let him take it, continuing to stare at him with glassy eyes as he speaks, your throat dry.

"I am deeply sorry for any pain my actions have inflicted upon you", he apologizes sincerely and lowers his head in regret, some of his brown curls falling into his face. "I couldn't even look at you after that because I could see exactly how badly I had hurt you."

"E-Elrond..", you get out, but you don't even know how to continue or what to say to him. Your emotions are all over the place because you have wanted to hear these words from him for so long, but on the other hand you feel sad because he suffered as well. And if there is one thing you hate more than anything else, it is seeing those you love hurt.

"Another weakness on my part was not telling you about my true feelings earlier. It was unfair since you have always given me nothing but sincerity and affection. My love, I hope you can forgive me and overlook my weaknesses", he says, his voice getting quieter and more humble towards the end, his hand squeezing yours tightly as if you could run away at any moment. What he doesn't know, however, is that with every word he is mending your heart a little bit more.

"I remain hopeful that you will return my love, despite what happened."

He stands before you, probably barely able to stand after days of constant fighting, and pours his heart out to you. He is still in his armour, his face scarred by battle. And you can't help but admire him for it.

Because what he is doing right now is braver than anything he has ever done before.

Without saying a word, you finally pull him towards you and wrap your arms around his neck tightly, his armour pressing against your chest. At first, Elrond didn't expect such a reaction, which is why it takes him a moment until his muscles relax, the burden falling from his shoulders, and his arms sneak around your waist.

"Sometimes I really hate you, Elrond Peredhel", you say against his neck before pulling away from him, hitting his chest plate once to get your point across. Laughing, he takes a step back and protects himself with his arms in front of his chest. You laugh too, but only for a moment until Elrond's smile disappears again as he looks at you.

"Your beauty is truly captivating", he smiles softly and slowly steps closer so that your bodies almost touch. His hand reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind your pointed ear as he looks back and forth between your eyes, his fingertip gently running over your skin from your ear to your chin. His touch leaves a trail of warmth. A smile twitches at the corner of your mouth and your gaze wanders to his lips.

The world stands still for a moment, all the events of the last few hours forgotten, banished from your thoughts to enjoy this one moment.

When Elrond's lips gently connect with yours, your patched up heart feels like it's about to jump out of your chest. Elrond's hand on your chin pulls you even closer to him, but he does it in such a gentle way that your cheeks turn red. One of your hands searches for support on his armor because your knees feel like they are about to give in. But you know that Elrond would be there to catch you. Your knight in shining armour.

You never want to stop kissing him. How many times have you dreamed of this moment, imagined what it would be like. All your expectations are being exceeded right now.

When Elrond pulls away from you so you can both catch your breath, he leans his forehead against yours gently. You immediately miss the feeling of his lips on yours.

"My love", Elrond whispers against your skin, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. His cheeks took on a shade of red after the kiss and you are certain that his heart is beating against his armour just as fast as yours. Gently, you cup his heated cheek and run your finger over his skin, being careful not to touch any of his wounds. Then you can't stand it any longer, pull him even closer to you and kiss him again, which elicits a surprised gasp from him. Both of you smile into the kiss as he leans in even more.

If it were up to you, this moment would last forever - just you and Elrond and your love for each other. But you know that this is just wishful thinking, that you have tasks to complete, duties to fulfill. After this moment, the world will continue spinning, wars and battles will be fought, history will be written, but now you know that whatever happens, Elrond is by your side. For eternity.

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last-words-ofashootingstar · 7 months ago

Text

Reminder; Don't Forget

(Scrap)

❥Park Seonghwa x fem reader

➯a/n: i want park seonghwa to be mean to me while wearing a tank top, that is all ➯a/n: i'm going to start posting drafts that haven't been touched in over a month so they don't just collect dust, enjoy ya filthy animals

✃ "You need a reminder of who's good girl you are."

✫彡wordcount: 2.7k

(>ᴗ•)♡´･ᴗ･`♡genre: YANDERE SMUT (hinted mafia/crime au)

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: THIS IS A DARK FICTION. EMPHASIS ON DARK FICTION. i do no condone pretty much anything seonghwa does in this fanfic. this is very dark, the darkest i've gone so if you are uncomfortable with that check out something else. we have here: dark/yandere/savior complex hwa, degrading, unsafe physical restraint, choking, destruction of personal property, shaming, dubcon, extremely possessive behavior, some ddlg themes, slapping, praise, yelling, captivity, crying, knifes thrown at reader as a punishment(none hit!!), threats of violence, manipulation, mind break, hair pulling, mention of edging, face humping, throat fucking, messy bj, not proof read

MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI

"Did you forget your place, hm? It certainly seems like it, acting like a slut when you're mine!" His grip on your neck tightens, a chuckle leaving his furled lips as you grab at his tank top desperately trying to force out apologies through the pressure he puts on your wind pipes. "What, you can't even say that you're sorry? Another's man's number in your phone and you can't tell me you're sorry?"

Oh he's evil, he loves to see you squirm. And squirm you do: pushing against his heavy weight on your hips and clawing at his arm as your lungs beg for air.

He lets go, arms crossing his chest as he leans back nonchalantly, every bit of his weight in your lap as you heave. "Hwa-seong...Hwa, I'm s-sorry! I thought, thought, it'd be okay hes just a f-friend-"

"You thought," he laughs cruelly, "are you even capable of that? Dumb little girl," he slaps your jaw, lightly, but it still makes you face the wall with a look of defeat.

"I think for you, is that clear?" You nod, tear stained cheeks gleaming in the light.

"Hey, am I clear?" he shouts this time, making you jump.

"Yes! Yes, Hwa, clear..."

"There's my good girl—" He brushes back your hair, cooing as you lean away, "you're the prettiest girl I ever laid my eyes on, and you think men don't see that? You think they're blind? Or are you really just that naiive, pretty baby?" His cool finger tips trail down to the blooming bruise on your neck, pressing softly to make you whine. "Give me your phone."

He's up and off your body in a second flat, letting you catch your breath as you slowly manage to pull yourself to your knees. He doesn't press you to hurry or yell, he doesn't do anything but sit back in the bean bag chair he gifted you for previously good behavior and watch you like a hawk. His legs spread and hands on his knees, resisting the urge to snatch you up. When you turn and see him on the other side of the room, you simply outstretch your arm with the old prepaid phone he provided you with a few weeks ago. "Bring it here," he commands lowly, eyes tracking your every move as you slowly move towards him on your knees- having no energy to stand.

He spreads his legs further, a silent instruction. You slot yourself between them and hold the phone to him tentative, shoulders relaxing as he takes it. "Thank you, beautiful. See, isn't it easy when you listen to me?" He unlocked the phone quickly, eyes flicking to you darkly when you go to take it back. "Got something to hide?" You shake your head, looking down as he takes your hands and places them on each of his thighs. "Don't move."

So you don't, simply breathing deeply to replenish your abused lungs while he combs through your phone with a fine toothed comb. You know you haven't done anything truly wrong, but it seems like he has different definitions to you.

"Good girl..." He whispers to himself as he sees the message of you shooting down the idea your friend tried to corrupt you with, to go out without him. "Stupid, but good..." He continues as he reads through every message with the phone number of the man. He monitors everything you do, it was only a matter of time before he got around to checking all of the numbers in your phone and their owners.

"Aw, you really are just naiive, huh? My poor little angel. Cant even tell when someone's trying to take you away from me-" He tuts his tongue, setting the phone down on the floor. When you go to pick it up, he kicks your hand away. "Sorry, Baby, you can't be trusted with big girl stuff yet. Gotta learn first." He smashes the device beneath his booted heel, a squeal passing through your lips at the loud metallic crunch.

"Hwa!" A pouty whine comes before you can stop it, tears welling up in your eyes all over again. When he cocks his eyebrow up, you cower between his legs, stuttering quietly. "Sorry, m'sorry..." He swipes the destroyed phone to the side with his boot before tapping your hip with it. You shuffle quickly, untying his shoes with a shaky breath.

"I know you get bored baby, but I can't have others corrupting your mind. I'll get you some new books, maybe even a TV for in here if you're extra good." You whisper a soft thank you, and a promise you will be as you set his shoes off to the side neatly.

"Look up at me, Doll. C'mon don't be angry," you look up at him as softly as you can, a groan of affection bubbling past his throat, "there's my pretty little thing." You rub your fingers on his jean-clad legs in an attempt to ground yourself as he looks down at you like a predator that's spotted it's next meal.

"Aren't you so happy you have me to take care of you? Who knows what others would do to that pretty face of yours— not to mention that pretty cunt."

A heat immediately finds it way to your face, and he laughs deeply. "Oh, please, don't be coy. You know as well as I do that if I didn't take you out of there that that little hole would be ruined in an hour. I saved you."

You hide your face in his lap, mind racing. It's true that he's more gently than other people you've had the dis-pleasure of encountering in his line of work. But that doesn't make him any less over bearing and obsessive. His possessiveness bordering on ownership. Sometimes you're truly thankful he scooped you up before anyone else could touch you- other times you curse him for it.

He rubs the back of your head gently, leaning up in the slouching chair, like he can sense your thoughts. "You aren't going anywhere, Baby. You're mine- until the day you die and even after that. Even God himself couldn't pry you away from me. You are mine. Do you understand that?" You nod into his lap, a quiet 'yes,hwa' muffled by his jeans. "Such a sweet thing," he whispers before gripping your hair and pulling you up, earning a gasp.

That glint in his eyes- "Hwa, wait, wait—" he did no such thing, standing up with his clothed crotch in your face, pulling your hands up to his belt.

"You need a reminder of who's good girl you are-"

"No-"

"No?!" He laughed in disbelief, nails digging into your scalp as he makes you look up at him, the stretch of your neck uncomfortable as he cranes it up. There's a sharp hunger in his eyes, "you're so cute -so, so, so, cute when you're defiant... but I'm not in the fucking mood. Get your ass up," he tugs you up by your hair, ignoring the sharp yelps that tremble past your lips.

"Ple-ase don't take me downstairs! I'll be good, I'll be good!"

"It's okay baby, we aren't going downstairs," he positions you back to the wall and backs up, pushing you back when you try to follow and apologize. "I'm too tired." The glimmer of hope is stomped out as he unlocked his side of the nightstand. "You can take your punishment here."

"Hwa... I'm real sor-" A skinny throwing knife that thuds into the wall next to your head shuts you up quick, a squeal replacing your pleas.

"Been looking after you so much, I'm rusty-" He throws another with a groan, hiding his smirk as you jump, "stay still baby, I'm out of practice." You can't help but duck as it thunks into the wall just above your head.

"Stand up straight!" His booming voice shakes you to your core, and you stand as straight as you can manage with the knot forming in your gut. You grip the wall with your finger tips, looking down at your feet so you don't see the sharp objects coming. You've found that it's less fearful that way.

Knife after knife is thrown, each dull thump making you twitch as they're buried into the drywall in the outline of your body.

When they finally stall, his sock clad feet come into view, his curved knuckle lifting your chin. The flame in his eyes has faded to a simmer, an almost fond one. "Are you done being a brat? Or should I let my hand slip next time I need target practice?"

"I'm done..." you speak with a gulp, body still frozen against the wall lest you move and graze against the blades.

He seems to sense your thoughts once again, cooing softly as he notices your tense shoulders. "C'mon, sweet girl," he carefully pulls you straight out from the wall and twirls you around.

He wraps his arms around under yours and grips your shoulders, holding you close to his chest and resting his chin on your head. "Your life in my hands... Such a delicate thing you are." You eyes trail over the outline of your body, traced with throwing daggers. "If you just behaved, I wouldn't have to scare you. It's the best way for you to learn, my love. That fear you feel when we go downstairs, when I have you pinned up- that's the fear you would feel every waking moment without me. Just be a good girl, and let me protect you..."

"...Okay, I'm sorry, Hwa... I don't know why I act out," You don't know if you're telling the truth anymore. It is even acting out? You sometimes think you have a right to.

Maybe— "Maybe you like it when I'm mean to you."

You don't know what you would have thought, but that wasn't it. You think he likes being mean to you. He always finds a reason to punish you: whether it be with bone chilling fear or being pushed to your sexual edge and then repeatedly denied.

Some days, he's softer with the sexual aspect of his obsession with you.

He turns you back around and shoves you to his knees, right back into his clothed bulge where you started. "I want to claim you, I'm going to claim you. Every part. Take it off now before I decide to skull fuck you." Your breath hitches in your throat, lip trembling at his threat, knowing full well he will follow through.

Today is not one of those days, you realize.

You hands quickly find their way to his belt, unbuckling the golden buckle and letting it dangle, the button undone next and the zipper followed. He didn't bother to kick his jeans off, or even pull them down. Only his cock out, twitching to life infront of you inpatiently. "You belong to me, I'm gonna get that through your thick skull" -he flicks your head- "even if I have to use my cock."

He rubs against your cheek, sighing out in pleasure at the feeling of your hot embarrassed face. "Say my name," he whispers deeply, eyes swirling with an unreadable mix of emotions.

"Seonghwa," you pant out shyly, eyes closed as you feel him rutting against your face, his pre cum smearing on your cheek bone. His grip is continually becoming softer, loving as he lewdly humps your head. Your hands find purchase on his sock clad feet, helping you lift up your body into him. "Seonghwa," it comes out as a moan, and a thick groan comes from him in response.

He steps back just an inch, looking down at your tear stained face, his fresh pre-cum glimmering on the side of your face.

His full lips curve into a smile, his previously angry facade fading as quick as it came when he busted in the door earlier, while he lifts you to the bed and lets your head hang.

He's even beautiful when viewed upside down-

"You make it hard to ever leave your side, pretty girl. I could spend the rest of my life buried in any of your gorgeous holes, I love you so much."

"I love you, Hwa. I-" Your breath catches in your throat as the words tear through your throat. "I do want you to claim me, I want to know I'm yours." One of your hands seems to sprout a mind of its own, wrapping around the base of his thick and smooth girth. "Let me take care of you, and you take care of me."

A groan dies on his lips, shuddering as you slowly stroke him, the words you speak shooting through his heart and down to his balls. "Let me be your good girl. Please, I know I can!"

The fear he instilled in you just moments ago festered into a need to please, to solidify your place by his side so he would never leave. He never would dream of it- leaving you. You are his heart and soul personified. You hold his entire being in your hands, and you have no idea.

"Yeah? Gonna be my good girl again? Make it up to me?" His heart flutters as you nod enthusiastically, your mouth opening wide for him and tongue lolling out."Fuck, that's a good girl," he spreads his legs around your dangling head, slim fingers gathering yours to your chest and holding them ever so softly as he slips right down your throat.

The hot, velvety skin encasing him makes him moan loudly, squeezing your hands to ground himself and keep himself from fucking your skull like his life depends on it. But, oh, how he wants to—

"Good fucking girl, that's it, just like I taught you," you gulp around his overwhelming length, eyes closing as you focus on breathing through your nose, the smell of his body wash somehow soothing to your fried nervous system.

He holds himself back as long as he can, thrusting in your throat slowly and basking in the warmth of it. But as your saliva builds, nowhere to go, and the wet and lewd squelch of your throat grows louder, he can no longer do that. He intertwines his fingers with yours and lets you squeeze tightly, a soft growl letting you know his arousal is at a peak before he loses all control-

His hips draw back and slam into you, the head of his cock poking at the very depth of your throat and making you gag, and the noise just stirs him on, going again and again and again to hear that sweet sound of you choking around him. Sticky saliva tainted with the white of his pre-cum drips from the corners of your stretched mouth, dripping up your face. It seems like the onslaught will never end, but he has bigger plans for his building release.

The moment your throat is free of his cock, you draw in a large gasp, all of the wetness in your mouth dripping like a waterfall, letting you heave as he watches with dark eyes. Not that you can see the lust driven look on his face, if you were to open your eyes you'd be blinded by spit and cum.

He discards his pants and top as he lets you catch your breath, cooing all the while about how good you just did for him. He uses the softness of his tank top to wipe away most of the filth on your face, and you finally peek your eyes open as you feel him lift you.

You swear there's hearts swirling in the darkness of his eyes as he scans your messy face, a permanent smirk plastered on his features. "Pretty girl, you're such a mess for me," you can only pant in response, leaning into the palm he places on your cheek as he lays you down right-side-up, letting your head collide with the soft pillows.

The moment he put a pillow under your back, you knew you were in for a long ride.

And by the end of it, you wouldn't forget who you belong to.

#ateez #ateez fic #yandere ateez #ateez smut #ateez smau #park seonghwa #yandere park seonghwa #yandere seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #smut fic #yandere fic

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osamucide · 1 month ago

Text

FLAVOR PROFILE—afab+gn!reader, angst and comfort??? smoking, alcohol, established friendship, feelings, f!masturbation, loss of virginity, body worship, biting, scratching, tiniest hint of corruption (there should've been more I’m sorry) and possessive aku, praise, fingering, penetration, creampie

ABV—6.1k

BAR OSAMUCIDE IS STRICTLY AN 18+ ESTABLISHMENT. FAILURE TO PROVIDE VALID ID/AGE IN BIO UPON INTERACTING WILL RESULT IN REMOVAL FROM THE PREMISES. MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.

"Really?"

He can't believe you're laughing at him. You swear you're not—you've sworn twice now. He just sighs and snatches your cigarette from you.

"I just kind of can't believe it, Ryuu," you rationalize, pressing your shoulder against his. "I'm not, I promise. I'm not laughing because it's funny. Just surprised, that's all."

Surprised, sure, alright. Look at me, he wants to spit at you, but he's hacking from holding the smoke in his lungs just a moment too long and so you work the dart from his fingers and tuck it back between your lips as he rights himself.

Akutagawa crosses his arms, not unlike a pouting child, and fixes his eyes on the brick wall across from you both and the one you lean back on as you're sat atop some wooden crate, one long discarded after a weapons shipment or whatever else. He can't help but feel a little small beneath your reaction, but you resume issuing soft kicks to the gravel beneath your feet like it was nothing—like you hadn't just drawn probably one of the most humiliating confessions out of him. He never really gave a second thought to all that before you came around, but now that he's beside you, elbows crossed over his knees as he draws them closer to himself, he suddenly feels like he should've before.

You finish your cigarette in silence, pointedly not moving away from him.

"I'm sorry," you say softly, sincerely as you chuck the butt to the ground in front of you. "Didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"I'm not uncomfortable." But he still doesn't look at you. Akutagawa's dealing with more than one predicament at the present moment and he needs to sort them before he can turn his attention back to you.

One—he doesn't know if it would've been more or less attractive, or maybe repulsive, if he could've said, yeah, I've fucked plenty of people before, or at least I've fucked someone, and Akutagawa's aware he's a lot of filthy things, but apparently he's neither a liar nor a whore, and it leads him right to his second predicament, which is this: why does he care whether you find him attractive or repulsive?

How long has he care what you think of him at all? And last: what does it mean, that he does?

It's that last one that his thoughts get snagged on.

You tap your foot beneath you. This alleyway is where you always drag him off to when you feel like getting away from work. He can hardly remember the last time he said no to you when it came to escaping Mori's iron rule for an hour or so. But he wishes he would've today, kind of like he wishes he would've skipped the only other time he can recall wishing to have skipped—the day you let him smoke one of your cigarettes.

It's funny how your conversation from that day parallels the exchange from minutes ago. It sticks in his mind right now. You, at least two years younger and having known him on a much more superficial level than you do now, had laughed a little; it makes him feel only marginally better about you laughing now. Even then you were reassuring him, not because it's funny, but just because—I don't know, that's what I do when I’m surprised, I guess. He's always envied your ability to find joy in small things like that, after all.

You didn't make him feel small just now. He finds ways to do that all on his own; he knows that. He must've been weak back then because he'd inhaled less tar than you, and he hated that, so he did it when you offered. But now, here he was. You know he's never even kissed anyone, let alone fucked. The sensical pattern, thinking back to that day when you tapped a cigarette out of your pack for him, lit it off your own, good-naturedly patted his back as the coughs raged out of him because he inhaled it all down way too fast for someone with clean lungs—

Where exactly would that lead now, logically?

It's not like he's never thought about it. But you don't need to know that.

Akutagawa turns his his head away from you, chin on his arms. He can feel his face burn. He won't let you see.

But he knows you now, and you know him. And he knows you'll offer anyway.

You sit in silence, maybe ten minutes more, kicking the ground and letting your eyes flutter open and shut, before you pull another smoke out of your pack and stick it in your mouth.

“Well,” you mumble as your lighter flicks, “If you wanna change that…”

He doesn’t move. He can still feel the crate trembling from how you tap your foot, which is good, because he’s a little restless himself. You draw off your cigarette; he sees the smoke dissipate in his peripheral as your head falls back to rest on the brick. What he doesn’t see is your little half-smirk, but he knows it’s there.

It’s not that Akutagawa doesn’t like you. Anyone that knows him well can probably see he likes you, or at least tolerates you—he lets you drag him here week after week, shift after shift, after all. He gives you grace, even if it’s small, when you fuck up on jobs—something he never gives to anyone else, hardly even Chuuya. He doesn’t flinch or swat you away when you absentmindedly pull him in some direction by his elbow or his wrist; he doesn’t scoff at you when you lean up against him, like you are right now, and shift away from you or push you off like he might even with Gin. To someone who doesn’t know him, he probably looks indifferent to you at worst, and indifference and tolerance, and maybe even liking, tend to go hand-in-hand when it comes to the wielder of Rashoumon. He’s not outright evil to you, and that’s enough—if for no one else, for you. But you know him by now.

And because you know him, you know what he’ll say next.

“No.”

And it’s not because he doesn’t like you, which is why you’ll do what you do next, and he knows you will because he knows you, too, by now—enough to maybe like you—you’ll press him.

“Aw, why not?” It drawls out of you lightheartedly, almost jokingly.

It might have something to do with the fact that you’ve never looked at him with fear, disgust, or hatred in your eyes—not even before you knew one another so well and he would regularly, in response to your antics, threaten to beat you to a pulp with his black beast. It might have something to do with how you seem to look right through him like that, and then inadvertently boost his ego by telling him you think he totally has the capacity to be cool, or even normal, doing things like fucking and smoking cigarettes. He wants to laugh at how silly it all sounds to him. Akutagawa’s never been good at letting himself understand why you make him feel the way you do. Why he deserves your kindness or companionship. Why you can’t see him for what he is: a war machine, configured from birth, far beyond—or maybe beneath—any sort of semblance of a normal destiny that includes indulgence. Love. It would make him respect you less, hate you, maybe, if it wasn’t so secretly pleasant, the fact that you don’t look at him like that. The fact that you seem to think he does deserve something more than misery.

I have a feeling this is gonna be a long partnership, so it’d be a lot more fun if you smoked! You said that the day you were assigned to each other, before you knew about his lung condition, and he knew he shouldn’t have ever accepted your offer that day in this very alleyway because he ended up liking the head high cigarettes gave him, even if it was horrible for him.

The same way he likes you, and it makes him unbearably soft. The same way he’d probably like kissing you. Fucking you. Another thing that’ll kill him one day, one way or another. He knows if he gets any closer than he is, and then for some reason you leave—die, run away, decide your relationship is awkward now and he’s horrible and you hate him, whatever—it’d kill him, undoubtedly. Better not to smoke the cigarette. Better not to fuck the only real friend he thinks he’s had since he was watching his back every moment he lived in the slums. Anything that felt good was almost certainly a trap laid to hurt him.

“Because,” he huffs.

If for sole annoyance or disgust, he would’ve bitched you out. But he doesn’t. You note this. So, you let it go. Because you know him.

“Alright,” you sigh. Not disappointed, not dismissive. Just affirming and understanding. It blows his mind all over again. He doesn't move, doesn't look at you. "Well, I suppose we should get back." Your eyes flick to your wristwatch. "Kouyou wanted us for something in about a half hour."

Some silly meeting in some bar. Chuuya's not there to keep her from getting off topic, so Akutagawa sits beneath the low light (on the edge of the booth, thank god), you next to him, while your superior's ordering another round of whisky sodas for the table.

When Kouyou distributes the drinks, Akutagawa slides his toward you, which you then slide to the man on your other side. His name's Shota—one of Chuuya's subordinates—and he takes it off your hands happily. You nestle your own between your hands on the tabletop.

"But as I was saying," the scarlet-haired woman continues, "it's going to have to happen over the weekend. I don't think it's wise to do anything until Nakahara's back from Tokyo, which will be Friday at the earliest, and the tracking number for the Makarov shipment on its way in got thrown in the trash so Hirotsu's going to have to..."

Akutagawa's gaze trains steadily on your hands; his own are busy, one propping his chin up, the other circling rings over the rim of his first and only glass, now empty. It's not out of the ordinary for him to tune out of Kouyou's tipsy ramblings, especially when Chuuya will be back in a few days to explain the game plan concisely and soberly. What is out of the ordinary is that he's still stiff, thinking about your conversation from the alleyway and the tone in which you so nonchalantly cooed aw, why not? Almost as if you'd been a little disappointed when he said no, he wouldn't take you up on your offer. Were you? He has to doubt it. You've always been a little too eager to get him fucked up on Chuuya's wine, drag him out of work, pull him out of his comfort zone—he'd seen the unmistakable excitement on your face the first time you'd jammed a cigarette between his lips. But that is way too far out of his wheelhouse, and he's pretty sure you both know it.

Even if he does keep thinking about it.

You, well—you sip your second whisky and take note of his fidgeting. Although your drink’s only half gone, you tap your foot against his, glancing between him and the door; he looks at you, then back down at his empty glass, clears his throat and nods ever so subtly. Code exhcange for I'm bored, wanna leave? Of course. So when the conversation lulls, you both stand.

"Kazuha has us at eight-thirty," you explain, bidding everyone good evening and seeing yourselves out the door before anyone has the chance to ask what for.

"Kazuha? That was the best lie you could come up with?"

"Are we still sitting in there or not?" you refute, cigarette dangling from your mouth as you walk with your hands behind your head in the direction of headquarters. "Can't wait to get home."

"Yeah, after your hard day," Akutagawa mutters.

"Hey, watch it," you poke. "I moved shit all morning. Need a shower bad."

Which is exactly what you do after you depart from your partner and scamper up to your apartment. But first you take the liberty of lighting a few candles, cracking your bathroom window for a breeze, dancing around to a little music as a bath full of lavender salts warms, and rubbing out your sore knees with that pain relief oil Higuchi recommended to you. It's true, you did spend all morning getting shipments from the port; the less luxurious side of the life and work of a mafioso moving their way up the ladder isn't something you're unfamiliar with, although you do it less now.

You settle in, sighing. Maybe it's wrong to still be thinking about it, but you had sort of hoped Akutagawa would take to your little quip earlier with at least a hint of curiosity, or bring it up on your walk home even if just to tell you how absurd it was that you'd even think such a thing; perhaps you should've been more deliberate, you think. Or maybe it's a good thing that you weren't. He's one of the last people you'd want to make things weird with—outside of being the (rather oblivious) object of your affection, he's still your coworker and, as of recent years, very best friend. Somewhat of a literal partner in crime. You snicker at that as your shoulders dip below the water. You momentarily debate trying to dismiss your little feelings for the night, and you will, for the most part—but while you're relieving physical tension under the soft flicker of your candles and the hum of the city below you, you figure you might as well dispel your disappointment, too, and you trace your fingers down the curve of your hip to find yourself wet in a way that has nothing to do with the water.

Meanwhile, Akutagawa is pacing his living quarters. He's already taken a cold shower to stave off what has only become more difficult not to think about now that you're gone—he doesn't have to hold it together for you or anyone, and he finds himself trying to sit still on the edge of his bed as his phone sits a few feet away on the nightstand. Should he text you about it? Call you? Fuck that—you do a fine job of flustering him when you're barely trying, but if he let you know—god, if he let you know, he'd never hear the end of it. Text or call you to talk about anything else, even if just to hear your voice and have your presence? No, he has a feeling that would drive him even further up the tree he's chased himself up; he's sitting, tapping his foot like you were earlier when he should've been able to answer you normally, his apartment is dead silent, his dick's half-hard in his sweatpants and he doesn't know what to do.

You probably weren't even serious. If he was smart, he would've jacked off in the shower and called it a night.

But he likes you. More than you realize—more than you can realize, because he's always stone-faced, no-bullshit, hard-ass Akutagawa and he doesn't know how to be anything else, even when you're around and ecouraging him to loosen up. You can't possibly realize how much you've done for him in terms of easing his anxiety over always being good enough, in terms of helping him understand his humanity, in terms of making him feel like a real person.

He suddenly feels like he's on a tightrope of keeping you close and messing it all up, and whichever way he decides to fall will inevitably bring unending frustration that he could've done something different, something better.

And maybe this is an opening. Or a pinnacle that his relationship with you was doomed to come to. Either way, he can't sit in his apartment. Marching forward, like he always does—no matter how hesitantly—he slips his jacket on and shoves his keys in his pocket before he's heading for the elevator.

It's not until he's staring at the interface of buttons that he decides between launching himself to the ground for a long walk along the port or punching in your floor.

And you're so close—your back's arching, your jaw hangs slack, you're spilling water down the side of the tub that pools on the floor, but you'll worry about it later—when you hear manic pounding coming from your hallway. Maybe it's not yours, you think, screwing your eyes shut and working your fingers back and forth in tight circles around your clit because you want it, damn it, but your apartment's so damn big that it's almost impossible to conceive of it being for anyone else.

"One minute!" you shout, rising out of the water with grumbling breath to wrap yourself in a towel and blow all your candles out in one swipe. But whoever it is doesn't hear you, or doesn't care—the harsh knocking pattern booms again, and you almost trip over your pile of discarded work clothes as you fumble out of the bathroom wondering what could possibly be so important, and on account of who, that they had to interrupt your first hour of alone time all day, not to mention when you were so deliciously close to an orgasm you'd been working yourself up to with painstaking care. You'd even edged yourself a little, just because you figured you had time; you would've gotten it over with if you'd have known you were on call, but here you are, unsatisfied and stomping to your door, about to crack it open and take whatever orders were about to be unloaded onto you with a smile and can-do attitude.

You fling the door open.

“What?”

Akutagawa’s fist is still raised to knock. You watch his eyes behind his sunglasses as they flit down to you—you in nothing but a towel—and his face breaks out in a blush you’ve never seen on him before.

If you were any less annoyed, you would’ve smirked.

“Ryuu, what?” you snap again as his hand falls to his side. Whatever it is, if someone needs backup, if it’s urgent, you wish he’d tell you already—it’s so unlike him to stand speechless that you almost want to ask if something else is going on. “Can you spit it out so I know if I should get dressed, please?”

No, he wants to croak out, but you’ll just keep barraging him with questions—all he does is fumble his way inside your apartment with please don’t get dressed on the back of his tongue and that really strange, dazed look behind his glasses. He can't even blame the alcohol from earlier—he only had one, and it's had ample time to wear off.

“Ryuunosuke—”

He freezes where he is, steely eyes locking onto yours, and his voice leaves him, hoarse. “Say that again, please.”

You look at him incredulously, scrunching your towel up beneath your fist that holds it up. “Tell me what’s going on.”

Akutagawa feels small again. This was the wrong decision. He should’ve gone for that walk. He should’ve jerked off in the shower and then went to bed and tossed and turned until he finally fell into an erratic sleep and he should not be here, he should wake up tomorrow morning, sleep-deprived and full of regret but knowing he’s safe because he didn’t go to your apartment to find you in nothing but a towel and he spared your relationship, he didn’t make it weird, and he’d look at you longingly for the rest of however long, only when you weren’t looking just so you’d never know how much agony your stupid little joke from earlier today put him in.

But you’re expecting an answer, and out of all the filthy things Akutagawa is convinced he is, he is not a liar.

His eyes fly to the ground. Your legs, knocking together from the chill of the water droplets that still cling to them.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about earlier,” he forces out. “What you said.”

You hesitate. “What I said…?” Had you said something wrong?

Great, he thinks, mouth falling open. So you weren’t serious.

“You know what, nevermind.” He shouldn’t be here. He goes to push past you, toward your still-open door, but you stop him, shutting the door and pushing a palm against his chest.

“Tell me,” you mean to say, but it sounds more like a question; his pale face flushes again, and you search him with your gaze. He seems to shrink a little more before he sighs and looks to you once more.

“If I wanted to change that I’ve never…”

You wait.

“Kissed.”

You blink, cock your head.

“Or fucked anyone.”

Your hand lets up on his chest, and you find yourself taking a step back—little, but it sends your partner reeling into self-doubt all over again.

“You want…” You speak, quietly, with less urgency than you have thus far. “You wanna fuck me?”

And Akutagawa’s nodding, more frantically than his pride would prefer. But he’s nodding. Not looking at you. Waiting for you to laugh and clap him on the shoulder with a yeah, as if and tell him to go home.

But your fingers slide up to curl along the side of his neck. When his eyes are still downcast, you cup his jaw in your palm.

“Ryuu, look at me.”

Here it comes. The big rejection. He’s ready. He’ll go home and punch a hole in his wall, but he’s ready to hold it together right now.

His eyes drift to yours again, still cold and nervous, like a dog’s when it’s about to bite.

But you smile, trace your thumb along his bottom lip, and whisper.

He has no idea how much you mean what you're saying next.

“I wish you would’ve just led with that.”

It’s like bombs are about to detonate in his brain. He knows what he should do next—he should kiss you, he should throw himself at you and let your tongue between his lips, but part of the reason why he’s here is because he never has, and he trusts you to show him—just what kind of weak has he become, trusting someone with their teeth so close to his throat? It doesn’t matter because he wants it, he just wants you to—

“Show me, please.”

To his displeasure, you don't latch onto him like a hungry animal. Instead, your fingers drift down to his and wind between them; you lead him past the couch to your bedroom, sit him down, and pull your towel a little tighter around you. He wants it off, he wants to see you—even if the thought of sitting naked himself, in front of you, makes his stomach flip, he wants nothing more than to tear the towel away, get to exploring the ways you like to be touched, hear sounds from you he's never heard before.

"Ryuu," you say, one hand on his shoulder. "Be sure you want this."

"I do," he squeaks out, hardly ever having heard his own voice so meek.

"Tell me. Say it."

"I want it," his words follow yours seamlessly, without another thought. He's already established in his mind that he trusts you. But he's still sort of waiting for you to start chuckling and tell him this is a big joke; his hands tremble as you stare, digging for uncertainty, but you don't find any. So as you hold your towel against you, you crawl carefully onto his lap, astride his waist.

And now, he has you. Between his fingers. They find the curve of your waist as you curl an arm around the back of his neck after you work the jacket off from around his shoulders, tear his glasses off, push his soft bangs from his face. Akutagawa looks at you with so much wonder, so much need; you set your weight on him, and you feel him, and his nails grip your ass through the towel.

"Please, don't be gentle," he whispers when your lips hover immediately over his. He can feel your breath, warm and inviting, as the tip of your nose brushes past his.

You smile into his mouth and wrap your other arm around him.

You let the towel fall as you kiss him.

Hot, slow.

And the bombs go off all at once. Before the towel can pool over his hands he's batting it to the floor, scooting back onto your mattress to accomodate you; he wants to shut his eyes but you grind down against him through his pants as your lips mold against his and he’s probably never felt so alert in his life. Akutagawa gasps in a certain way, another sound he's never heard himself make; when your fingers tangle into the hair at the back of his head, he groans, grips your waist, and his eyes melt shut, finally.

You kiss him until he's putty, and he follows your lead; you grab his wrists and guide his hands to your chest, which has his eyes flying open all over again as he feels his fingerpads twitch over your nipples. You work him onto his back, easing him down with your tongue against his, so warm, so wet; your teeth, harsh in his bottom lip, where your thumb stroked so tenderly before, force his hips in a circle, and, oh, god, you have him losing it already, completely helpless, completely breathless.

You pull back, grinning, before grabbing for the buttons on his shirt.

"This okay?"

It's not okay, it's insane. His pants are too tight. He's never needed someone like this. And you look so angelic above him waiting for him to nod, give you a small yes, before you work him out of his shirt next, taking care to trace every ridge and valley of his ribs and abdomen as you do. He shivers when it's gone, discarded with his jacket and glasses; his arms come to cover himself but you trace those, too, the dips in his lean muscle and severities of his shoulders, collarbones, elbows, wrists. Just as he thinks he might feel too vulnerable, you start mapping him out with a softness he's never felt before; he wants to sink into it, keep it forever. If he wasn't so painfully hard, he might not even need to fuck you; just laying, relaxing into the sheets beneath him as you look at him like he's beautiful, is a heaven of its own.

"You're so pretty, Ryuu," you mutter. You hunch to bite the juncture of his throat and shoulder, then soothe it with a kiss. "So, so fucking pretty. You know that?"

Akutagawa shudders again. "I told you not to be gentle."

You bite him once more, grinding your bare cunt along his clothed cock, and a groan throttles from his chest. After doing the same to the opposite side of his neck, your lips meet his again, and he forgets about shielding himself in favor of letting his hands rock you back and forth against him.

You feel him twitch below you as you work him into nothing but impatient breath and swollen lips; your irritation from not reaching your climax earlier doubles back on you in a wave of arousal, and you’re guiding him out of his pants and boxers at the same time, and thank god that’s all that’s left and that you’re so turned on already because when the tip of his pale cock hits his abs, all you can think about is sinking down onto it, feeling it fill you up and pulse inside you.

But you wait, looking at him low-lidded and asking him, “You want me on top, or you?”

“For fuck’s sake,” he curses, twisting a leg into the bend of your knee at his side; you’re not weak by any means, but in one smooth movement he’s got you on your back, pinned down by your wrists. “If you’re going to be gentle, then I won’t.”

Wasting no time. You almost giggle but you’re gasping, his eagerness streamlining into a searing kiss to your mouth and one of his rough hands snaking down to collect the wetness pooling between your thighs.

He knows he should touch you. He knows that much. He wants to know—

“Where? Tell me where,” he growls into your mouth, and you guide him by his wrist and fingers once again to draw tight circles over your clit—ones that make you arch, and after feeling how you do it he burns it into his brain, the movement you’re guiding him through that sends your head lolling onto the pillow. Akutagawa’s eyes widen. He could watch your expression replay for hours.

“That’s it,” you encourage him, breathy, letting him go as he memorizes your rhythm. “Feels so good.”

You bring your two wet fingers up to his mouth, which he accepts without hesitance; his tongue swirls around them and you realize how serious he is—he doesn’t want it slow and you’re losing your resolve against him and you think you need him in you, right now.

He stills when you reach for his cock, dark hair swaying as his gaze trails your hand; he sits back, heaving, as he rubs you, as you stroke him and smear a pathetically large bead of precum across his tip and down his length. Trying desperately not to stop, to keep making you feel good, he throws his head back when you squeeze just beneath the head of his cock and pull him back toward you by his shoulder.

“Wan’ you to fuck me, Ryuu,” you whine, lining him up with your weeping hole. He’s pushing in with hardly a second thought, and, oh—he’s groaning in yet another way he’s never heard before, watching himself disappear into you, bracing himself on your forearms until he fills you up to hilt. So wet, so warm. He hardly realizes how ragged his breath is until he hears your own.

You squirm, and after he presses another series of messy kisses to your lips to stifle the noises of pleasure leaving him that would be so humiliating if he wasn’t so drunk on you, you hold him by his chin and look so deeply into his eyes that he’s afraid for a second you’re doing that thing where you look right through him into his very soul, but your mouth is forming around words that he must hear, he must hang onto, you have to tell him what to do, and you do—

“Don’t be gentle.”

So he isn’t. He moves, on nothing but your words and intuition and the way you clench around him; there’s virtually no resistance when he pulls out, slams back in, pulls out, slams back in—and he loses himself in it so quickly, so noisily.

“Unh—fuck—” Your name leaves his lips like a song that has you linking your ankles behind his back as he writhes, pounds into you—and you understand all over again, he wasn’t kidding. He doesn’t want it slow. And neither do you, you realize, now that he’s dragging his perfect cock along your insides so deliciously.

He realizes something too, as he falls to his elbows and buries his open mouth into your neck; that he never wants anyone else to hear the sounds either of you are making ever again. He doesn't care that you're more experienced than him, or that your relationship is irrevocably changed now that this is happening; you're going to be the first and last person that ever hears him moaning like this, that ever has him blushing from face to chest at the lewd sounds that your bodies emit where they meet and then part each time he pistons in and out of you. You’re clawing at him, raking tracks down his back and biceps that spur him to a pace he didn’t know he was capable of—he can’t wait to see them in the mirror tomorrow when the rawness has left and they’re angry red, a testament to how quickly he’s learning you, how quickly you’re both falling apart, how much he thinks he loves you.

Yeah, he thinks he loves you—it’s muffled by your skin, but he’s saying it, he can’t help it, he can’t keep it in his lungs if he’s going to keep this pace up.

“Love you, Ryuu,” you echo, and he echoes you right back like he didn’t start it.

“Love you.” Thrust. “Love you.” Thrust. “Love you—mmh!”

"My good boy," you croon when he reaches down to touch you, to feel you squeezing him down on him. Your good boy. You could turn him into a whore if you kept saying that.

"My name, please," he breathes, high-pitched, almost wheezing; you hold him as close to your body as you can, shortening his unstoppable thrusts against the spot inside you that makes your toes curl, pushes rhythmic moans from your throat, and his hands are all over you, begging for it in his rough grips that undulate into soft caresses back to harsh nails back to gentle strokes.

"Ryuunosuke—" you choke out, "Don't—" Gasp. "—fucking—" Gasp. "—stop!"

The most gorgeous strand of strained moans, gasps, and growls leave him as his head batters insatiably against your cervix; he’s falling off that tightrope, and you’re catching him, all his shaking fingers and trembling thighs that still momentarily before he can warn you, before he can tell you—

"Cum in me," you sigh as you feel him, feel yourself breaking, coming undone as he forces his sounds down your throat; you swallow them all, crying out against his lips as he bites you, furrows his brow, pulls back to bore into your clouded gaze—he's sure he looks the same if not worse, more unraveled, mouth open, lips wet, when you arch back and pull him flush against you and he's cumming, taking you for every last bit you'll give him until you're hypersensitive, fluttering around him, helping him make a sticky mess beneath the both of you as his head falls forward again, into your shoulder, restless, groaning with aftershock, until his lips meet yours and he kisses you, kisses you, kisses you, neither of you ready to come down yet.

But soon enough you're reduced to exhausted writhing, slow bites, fingers through his hair and he's spent—pleasantly so. Weak, not in the way he feels after he's been brought to his knees by a formidable foe but in a way he will not be content to part with; a comfortable resignation that he could make a home in.

Akutagawa wraps himself around you, and you kick the blanket at your feet up until you can pull it over his shoulders and tuck your nose into his forehead.

"Still kind of don't believe you've never done that before," you think out loud, voice a little absent from how you’ve been sobbing for him.

And Akutagawa finds himself smiling into your skin. He sounds just as much of a wreck. "Never. Not until now."

It was good. Not only was it good, but you can feel him softening inside you, and you want him to stay.

"Meant it, by the way."

Then he looks up at you, quizzically. That strange, dazed look is in his eyes again.

But you just look back at him. Push his bangs back, mirror his tired smile. Wipe the drying sheen of sweat from across his brow.

When it clicks, he's buried in your neck again. Grumbling. "I meant it, too."

You hug yourself impossibly tighter around him, muttering his name, rolling you both to your sides where you cup his face once more, pressing smooches all over him, less heated and more playful, and Akutagawa scrunches his nose as you pepper him and start mumbling in between—

"Love you. Love you. Love you."

He catches you in your tirade and kisses you like you first kissed him—slow, deep. His own love you whispered, almost imperceptible. He'll stay. "Thank you. Love you."

Like he never knew he was capable of loving. He’s not uncomfortable. For once. For real. You caught him when he was falling. He hopes you’ll keep doing it.

But right now, he only has one more question.

"Do you have any cigarettes?"

You reach across him, over to your nightstand. “Who do you think I am?”

My angel, he thinks in response as you nudge the filter between his lips to light it. You, in control, let him puff before you steal it for yourself.

And he’s yours. The Port Mafia’s ferocious Hellhound is your good boy, your angel.

You’ll love him until he believes it.

#csm reference #kinktober? you thought.#vanillatober.#couldn’t help it with him i need to love him til he loves himself #i should’ve picked someone else if i wanted it to be nasty that’s my b you guys #akutagawa smut #akutagawa x reader #bsd smut #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs smut #bungou stray dogs x reader #nnnsfw.ᐟ #kinktober 2024 #with love—reid #mdni

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withlove-angel · 1 year ago

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AHHH i’m so excited you write for yandere one piece live action!! do you write for luffy? and also, do you feel comfortable writing breeding/pregnancy kink? thanks!

Sure! Let me try

⚠️warnings: non con, breeding kink, dark!luffy, yandere!luffy

MINE MINE MINE

Y/n cautiously turned the corner, feeling like someone was watching her. As she scanned the area, she noticed a figure lurking in the shadows. It appeared to be a young man, with a hat on.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" She asked nervously, her voice echoing through the dimly lit deck. There was no reply, only another pair of eyes watching her intently from the darkness.She hcould feel the heat rising in her face as your heart raced with trepidation.

The shadows figure, couldn't help but laugh a bit. She looks so cute in that little dress... he wante her all to himself... they are alredy friends, so why not skipping to the good part?

Y/n's heart raced as she realized that the figure watching her captain. "Oh, it's just you, Luffy. You scared me, you goof!" she laughed, her relief quickly replaced by excitement.

He smiled, amused by her surprise, but his gaze was fixed on the beautiful dress she was wearing. He had to admit that it looked good on her. "I like your dress," he finally said, his eyes wandering around her body. Her's cheeks flushed pink, as she quickly realized that Luffy was staring at her."Thanks"she murmur quietly, shifting her gaze to the sun that was setting.

The hole crew of the ship weren't there... just the two of them...

Luffy stood just behind y/n, admiring the way she filled out the dress. He couldn't help but notice the shape of her breasts beneath the fabric, his mind running wild with lustful thoughts. "Do you... do you like it here?" he finally asked, unable to hold back any longer. He longed to touch her and claim her as his own. But he knew he had to wait, to not rush things. Or at least he trying to...

Y/n's eyes widened as her approached her and suddenly wrapped his arms around her from behind, his chest pressed up against her back.

"I..." she was taking but surprise, they were just friends, she slightly uncomfortable but he didn't care "is different" she murmur... she newly joined the straw hats, well luffy almost begged her to... "still weird... trying to get used to the sea"

"You mean... having me as your captain is weird?" Luffy asked playfully, feeling her body close up against his. He was enjoying this way more than he should. He let go of y/n as he walked around to face her, his eyes hungrily tracing every inch of her body. He cupped her chin with his hand and pulled her in closer, his breath tickling her ear. "Is this weird too?" he whispered, his lips brushing against her neck. Luffy's fingers were gently caressing every curve of y/n's body, leaving her breathless.

She looked at him with wide eyes pushing him slightly "we shouldn't..." He really didn't care, he was overwhelmed by her presence.

"I... I know..." he whispered, his voice filled with desire. She tried to push him away, but his hands were firmly gripping her waist. She was just too tempting, and Luffy's blood was boiling. He wanted more than just a kiss or a squeeze, he wanted to possess her entirely. "But... I can't help it," he hissed, leaning in closer. His eyes met hers, and his breathing became heavy. He was on the edge of losing control.He just wanna posses her, and he will do right now. She gasps as she feels him lifting her and pressing against the nearlest wall. His body tightly pressed up against her. "Don't move," he whispered fiercely, his eyes filled with a hunger that he had never experienced before. Her heart began pounding rapidly as she felt his body up against hers, her legs wrapped around his waist. She was caught up in the moment, unable to resist the pleasure that was building up within her.

He lost control of his emotion, letting his possesive and crazy side show up for the first time. Luffy began kissing her neck and shoulders passionately, his lips teasing and nipping at her bare skin. He was losing control, his mind overtaken by his urges and desires. He was getting carried away, and he knew it. But he couldn't stop himself, couldn't turn back now. He wanted her, wanted to make her his, forever and always."Should i just get you pregnant?" He asked with a smirk. She looked at him with wide eyes".. What?" Y/n uttered, looking at him in shock. She hadn't expected him to say something like that. "Luffy, listen to me!" she pleaded, the feeling of desperation and fear rising up inside her. She was worried about what he might do next. "This is... too much, too fast." He continued to press himself up against her, his hand running down her thighs. She looked at him with pleading eyes, shaking her head in denial. But he wasn't listening."This will make you mine forever" he laughs pressing their bodies even more "you will look pretty, mama, with my child on you" y/n's eyes widened as she felt Luffy's hand moving up and down her thighs, his fingers lightly caressing her most sensitive areas. She was feeling weak now, her body being consumed by desire. But the thought of getting pregnant by him was unsettling. "Lufy, please... don't do this," she whispered desperately. "I- I don't want to be pregnant... I'm not ready..."

Luffy slowly caressed her stomach, imagining how she would look pregnant with his child. He let out a deep sigh, his arousal increasing with each passing moment. He couldn't wait to make her his, to claim her as his property. "Dont fight back, lil mama" he whispered softly. "Let me make you mine...Its better you agree... i will do it anyway. You are mine" he say y/n's eyes widened in fear as she realized that Luffy was determined to force himself on her.

don't know what to do with the feelings that were flooding up inside her. She was filled with so much fear and confusion, and she didn't have anyone she could talk to. She was so alone, and so vulnerable. This was supposed to be her home, her family. What was she going todo now?

Luffy laughs between growns "mine. Mine. Mine" he say grabbing her neck slightly. Her eyes widened, his grip tightening around her throat. She was completely trapped, unable to push him away. His touch was rough and painful, and she couldn't escape his grip. She was lost, not knowing what to do.

He laughs as soon as he finished. Finally did what he wanted... she will be pregnant she was in a daze, her mind and body numb after. She couldn't believe what had just happened, and she was feeling so many emotions. She was scared, ashamed, and confused. But she also felt an intense sense of pleasure and excitement, a feeling that made her feel sick with disgust. She was so confused, so lost. What was she going to do now? And what was she going to tell everyone else?

Luffy smiles, still burried inside her as he caress her.

Her body responding to luffy's touch despite her fear. She didn't want to be here right now, didn't want luffy's hands touching her like this. But it felt so good. She felt weak-willed, unable to turn him away. She felt trapped in this twisted reality of his. But she couldn't ignore the feeling of shame and disgust that was rising up inside her once again.She slowly rest her head on him when he stopped moving. She felt exhausted, both mentally and physically. She felt so conflicted right now, unsure of what to do or how to feel. She was filled with doubt and confusion, trying to figure out what this meant for her future. All she knew was that, at this moment, she felt so alone and vulnerable. And she wished she could just wake up from this nightmare, this wasn't her life. This wasn't real. But slowly, she realized that this was reality, and she was trapped in.

Lufyy gently caressed her face, trying to comfort her. She was so broken and fragile right now, and he couldn't stand to see her like this. He wanted to make her feel better, to take away all of the fear and doubt that she was currently experiencing. He gently caressed her face, running his fingers through her hair and kissing her softly on the forehead. "I promise I'll take care of you," he whispered. "No one will hurt you, ever."she felt a little better with the affection his touch was making her feel somewhat protected. She just wanted to let go of her thoughts and emotions, and escape into the safety of luffy's arms. She knew that she couldn't trust him completely, but for the moment he was making her feel better. She didn't want to be a monster like him, she would never be as cruel and heartless as him.

Luffy kissed her softly on the lips, his grip around her neck tightening once again. It was gentle and almost tender, but it was a warning nonetheless. He wanted her to know that she was his now, that there was no escape. She couldn't turn away, couldn't act like this didn't happen. Luffu would never let her be free again. She was bound to him now, her life forever linked to his. She belonged to him now.

#one piece imagine #yandere one piece #yandere luffy #luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy #luffy smut

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im-ovulating · 29 days ago

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Could you pretty please add Jacob black to ur kinktober line up💗

(A/n: Kinktober Day 8/15! The previous fics have all been more serious, so I decided to lighten it up with this one.)

Word Count: 1,769

Summary- When making fun of porn together, you see a position that piques your interest; you and Jake decide to test it out.

Warnings: Watching porn together, trying a new position, no creampie/pulling out, attempt at humor

Age Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Jacob Black x Fem! Reader: Position

-------------------------

With your laptop balanced on your stomach, you look over at Jacob with a grin, his eyes locked on the screen as he watches the couple in the video move together. "Seriously, how can she keep up those moans?" you ask, poking fun at the exaggerated noises the girl is making. Jacob laughs, shaking his head in agreement, "I mean, I get the whole 'faking it for the camera' thing, but really?"

"Don't even get me started on the cringey-ass dirty talk he's doing-" You snort.

A few moments later, a new position caught your eye. The guy has the girl bent so far in half that her ankles are near her ears. "There's no way that feels good for her," you comment, leaning in closer to get a better look at the angle. There's an increase in her fake moans, naturally, but you can't stop thinking about how uncomfortable a bend would actually feel.

Jacob glanced at you before looking back at the screen, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "You know, I bet I could make it feel good," he challenged, his voice low and playful.

You raise an eyebrow at him skeptically, "Yeah? You sure about that?." You challenge back, not fully convinced but intrigued by the thought of him trying.

Jacob chuckles and reaches over to grab the laptop, closing and setting it aside before crawling over top of you. He smirks down at you as he trails kisses along your jawline, his warm breath causing goosebumps to form on your skin. "Oh, 100%," He grins against your collarbone, reaching down to unbutton your shorts.

"That's what you said when you and Embry tried to prove that if he was on your shoulders and you timed your shifts right, you could stack your wolves," you giggle, lifting your hips so he can pull them off of you.

Jacob's grin turns into a deep laugh, his body shaking slightly against yours as his forehead drops to your shoulder. "Alright, miss smarty-pants," he says, biting you gently. "Let's try this and if it doesn't feel good for you, then we can go back to laughing at the people in the video, okay?"

You can't help but laugh a little as you agree. "Deal." You wrap your arms around his neck as he shifts his weight onto his elbows.

Jacob smirks down at you, his hands running softly up and down your thighs. "So," he starts, voice low and husky. "You ready?"

You nod, feeling a rush of excitement at his words. His lips press against yours softly, teasingly, as one of his hands sneaks beneath your shirt to cup your breasts. You sigh softly into the kiss, feeling the tingling sensation spread throughout your body.

With gentle hands, he starts tugging at the hem of your shirt, pulling it up slowly to reveal your bare chest. "Fuck, that's hot," he mutters before continuing to pull the shirt off completely.

As your breasts are exposed to the cool air, Jacob's fingers trace circles around your nipples, making them harden into little peaks. His lips find their way back to yours, his tongue exploring your mouth eagerly.

You gasp softly into the kiss, arching your back slightly as he teases your nipples. His hands slide down to your waistband, tugging at your panties. "Hold on- this isn't fair. You're still fully dressed."

Jacob chuckles deep in his throat before reaching behind his head, pulling his shirt over his head to reveal his muscled torso. "Fine, fine..." His shorts and boxers come off quickly, his erection springing free as his pants hit the floor. "There," he murmurs against your lips as he rejoins you on the bed. "That's now we're even."

With that, he leans in and presses his lips against yours, his tongue darting out to taste your lips. Your moan gets swallowed by the kiss as his hands slide under your panties, teasing your folds. You curse lightly as he finally slips a finger inside you, the sensation sending shivers down your spine.

"Jake…" you breathe out his name, your voice laced with desire. His fingers move in and out of you in a slow rhythm that has you rocking your hips up to pull them even deeper.

Not long after he starts to finger you, he removes his hand. Before you can protest the loss, he's using your arousal as lube, pumping his hand along his cock with a few loose strokes.

Jacob moves to hook his arms under your knees, his throbbing erection resting against your entrance as he starts to press your legs forward. Just as you expected, the unnatural bend is a bit uncomfortable, but not nearly as much as you thought it'd be.

"This okay?" He asks when your ankles are near your head.

You nod. "Just-" you shift a bit. Keeping the bend, you lock your ankles behind his head and find that it alleviates any discomfort you had. "This is better," You say. It's less of the position you guys were originally going to attempt, but it's close enough for you to not care. With your legs now over his shoulders and his weight pressing you into the mattress, Jake starts to press into you.

You gasp, your back arching off the mattress slightly as he fills you up. "Oh, fuck..." You breathe out as he starts to stretch you out. "Please hurry up-" He's barely halfway in, pushing in slowly to gauge your reactions

He snorts in response. "Be patient," He says, his words coming out rough. "I just started."

You roll your eyes and smack his chest lightly. "Just fuck me already," you grin.

"Okay, okay, jeez- no need to get violent, beautiful," Jacob laughs before starting to thrust, his hips slapping against your ass with each movement.

As Jacob starts to thrust into you, the feeling of fullness is unlike anything you've ever experienced. The position has his hips angled just right, pushing deeper into you with each thrust than you've ever felt before.

Each time he hits that sweet spot inside you, you let out a moan of pleasure, your cunt clenching around him as if trying to drag him deeper.

His thrusts are steady and forceful, his arms braced on either side of you, supporting his weight. With your ankles locked behind his head, you can feel the muscles in his shoulders ripple as he powerfully fucks deeper into you.

You can feel every inch of him inside you, the head of his cock nearly brushing against your cervix with each downward thrust.

Your nails dig into his biceps, leaving small claw marks behind as you grip tighter. The pressure building in your lower belly is almost too much to bear in its intensity, but it feels too good for you to care.

He shifts to grip your hips tightly, pulling you against him with every movement. Your moans grow louder, more urgent as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

He thrusts harder. "God, you're so tight," He growls, his eyes meeting yours.

You dig your nails into his shoulders, pulling him closer as your body trembles with anticipation. "More," you whisper, your voice husky with desire. "Please, Jake, I need you to make me cum." His cock is brushing against all the right places and it's driving you mad.

Jacob smiles against your lips, his thrusts becoming deeper and harder as he tries to please you. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, and the scent of sweat and arousal mixes in the air. You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, but you need just a little more until you can let yourself tumble over it.

"Look at me," Jacob pants, his eyes full of lust. You obey, meeting his gaze as he continues to thrust into you. It's hard, but you manage to open your eyes just enough to see the look on his face.

His jaw is tense with the way he's gritting his teeth, and his brow is furrowed, creased in a way that would normally have you smoothing the wrinkle with your thumb.

"Jacob," you moan his name, your voice breaking. He looks at you intensely, seeing the desire in your eyes. It's all he needs to push him over the edge. His thrusts become more frantic, his breath coming in short gasps. You can feel his cock twitching inside you, aching for release.

You feel your body tensing up, every nerve ending on fire as Jacob continues to thrust into you. The sensation is overwhelming, and you can't help but moan his name with every thrust. Your eyes are closed tightly, lost in the moment.

And then it hits you - a wave of intense pleasure washes over you, causing your whole body to shake uncontrollably. "Jacob!" You cry out his name, arching your back off the mattress as far as you position will allow.

Jacob's thrusts slow down, and then he stops altogether. With a groan, he pulls out of you and wraps his hand around himself, his cock still hard and leaking pre-cum.

"Fuck," He mutters, his hand moving to stroke his cock in short, fast strokes. You watch, panting from your own release as he approaches his climax. Suddenly, Jake's hips jolt forward, and he lets out a hoarse cry as he releases himself onto your stomach. Warm, sticky fluid seeps into your skin, and makes you pull a face.

"Gross," You complain, playfully pushing him away by the face, making him huff out a laugh as he falls to the side to lay next to you.

Jacob rolls his eyes good-naturedly, his lips curling up into a smile. "Oh, shut up," He teases, swatting your shoulder lightly. "You love it when I do that."

You can't help but laugh at his response. "I do not!" You protest, feigning innocence. "It makes me all sticky." You stick your tongue out at him.

Jacob laughs again, this time more heartily. "I'll make sure to do it even more, just to gross you out, then." His wink is cut short by a pillow to the face and you saying, "You're literally the worst!"

He pulls you closer with another laugh. "You love me~"

When you don't deny it, he relaxes into the mattress. After a few moments of comfortable silence, he looks down at you with a mischievous grin. "You down to go again?"

"You just jizzed all over me, you horn dog!" you protest without any real heat. "But, ye-" You don't even get your answer out before he's rolling on top of you again and pressing his lips to yours in an eager kiss making you giggle.

#jacob black x reader #jacob black smut #jacob black x reader smut #jacob black #kinktober 2024

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daenysx · 4 months ago

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hi hello!! i've just found your blog and i adore it and your writing! <3 do you mind if i request remus lupin or james potter (whichever you prefer) with a reader who has excruciating period cramps? thank you sm!! :)

hi gorgeous, thank you for being so nice!! i once wrote a period fic with james, this is the remus version, i hope you like them both <3333

remus lupin x fem!reader

remus makes you another cup of hot tea, but he's not sure if you can drink it.

it breaks his heart, the way you try to lay down on your bed but being unable to relax. your entire body is tense, he knows the effects of your period by heart now. he also knows it's useless to try to cheer you up when you can't even feel your legs properly. he only wants you to get over the first three days which are always the hardest to get through.

"hi, pretty girl." he comes next to you with your tea. "i made you some tea."

"thank you, remus." you say, trying to sit up. remus helps you. "thanks."

"here you go." he holds the cup for you. it's too hot. "i hope this helps a bit."

you take a sip. your boyfriend is lovely with his wide eyes, his eagerness to do anything to make you feel better. the tea is nice. it would be nicer if your cramps weren't so bad.

"oh!" you suddenly hold your belly. the pain is always shocking, catches you unexpectedly. remus gets the cup from your hands. he knows it's for the best to stay calm, you're already hurting, he doesn't need to be another thing for you to worry about.

"it's okay, dove." he tries. "can i hold you?"

you nod. "please." he opens his arms to get you. putting your head on his shoulder, you give another painful sound coming deep from your throat. remus keeps his hands on your back.

"it's okay, it'll pass." he whispers against your head with a huge hand rubbing your back. "do you wanna go to the bathroom?"

you shake your hand, blinking tears back. "no. maybe later. i don't think i can stand up."

"tell me when you want to go, okay? i'll help you."

your hand finds remus's, he squeezes your fingers. he kisses your hair the way you like, too many kisses all at once. he's so warm, you lean against his heat to feel him. "i'm okay." you say. he nods, looking at you to see if you mean it.

"can we cuddle?" he asks, his eyes are pleading. "if you're okay to lie down?"

"okay." you say. "i just- my legs hurt, i don't feel too comfortable."

remus is a quick thinker. he likes to think he knows what he's doing when it comes to holding you, there are too many positions you like but when you are on your period, he needs to be the one to take the weight off you. he lies down, gets you in his arms as you put your leg on his legs. remus puts your head on his chest, his long arms securely wrapped around your shoulders.

"good?" he asks. you nod, and he smiles. "i'm gonna rub your back, okay? tell me if anything hurts, dove."

"it's nice." you say, because it really is. his fingers know your body so well, he also knows where to put pressure and where to be kind. you force yourself to relax on him. sleep usually distracts you, it can work right now. you make quiet noises which guide remus to see if he's doing okay. he rubs your poor muscles until his hand goes numb.

"my tea got cold." you say, sadly.

"i can always make you a new one." remus says with a huge kiss on your forehead. "don't worry about it, sweetheart."

you hum quietly, press a little kiss on his clothed chest. remus's fingers go through your hair now, he braids a little piece to help you relax, you still don't know how he does it with one hand. the next few minutes are quiet but neither of you are uncomfortable because of the silence. you like remus's peaceful aura, he brings relief to your painful times, he keeps his cool. you are tired but never tired enough to not kiss his neck and show him how much you adore him.

another cramp hits you. it's not as painful as the earlier but you feel it deeper in your muscles because you lay down. you snuggle closer to remus, trying to bury yourself to his warmth until it passes.

remus cups your cheek. "you're doing so good." he says. "i know it hurts too much but try to focus on me, yeah? maybe you'll feel better if you sleep."

you feel so desperate and so needy for his affirmation, it hurts. "can you hold me tighter? until i fall asleep?"

"of course, baby." he coos. "if you feel worse when you wake up, i can get you a painkiller."

you nod against his chest. remus wraps his arms tighter around you until you feel nothing but him. you try to hug him back, it's a bit unsuccessful attempt but he supports your waist to keep you on himself. his hand on your waist is a nice weight, better than any heating pad you use. you take a deep breath of his familiar scent.

"it'll pass." he says before you close your eyes. "i'll hold you as long as you have me."

he's being too sweet, too precious. you would blush and hide yourself to his chest but your brain is focused on the pain, sadly. you still give remus a nice kiss, though. he keeps his lips on your head until your breathing evens out.

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin fic #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfiction #remus x you #remus x reader #remus x fem!reader #remus lupin fluff #marauders #marauders fic #marauders fanfiction #marauders fanfic #marauders imagine #marauders era #remus

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captain-joongz · 2 months ago

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Ssobin and public sex😩😩😩

ignore this if it makes u uncomfortable,,, I couldn’t find the guidelines

hello darling, don't worry, you definitely didn't make me uncomfortable. you don't have to be afraid to send in anything, if i don't feel comfortable writing it, i'll let you know and write something similar <3 you'll quickly find i'm open to maaaaany things ;))

but i don't mind writing public sex, plus i think Soobin is the type who would be into it haha. i wasn't sure how public you wanted it, so i hope you'll like this!

warnings: public sex, pervy Soob, unprotected sex, cum play

we all know that even though Soobin tries to seem like the unassuming innocent naive type, he's a little pervert. he likes to pretend, but no one is fooled by him, especially when he starts smirking up a storm or uttering double-meaning jokes with a mischievous glint in his eyes

that's why i can totally imagine boyfriend!Soobin taking you on a cute picnic date to the park, but quickly losing all his will faced with your cute little skirt. seeing you sitting on the blanket and squirming around because the clothing is so short you can't even sit comfortably without flashing your underwear, it's slowly driving him up the wall

originally it wouldn't even be a part of his plans - he definitely wasn't expecting to find himself willing away a boner because he was thinking about fucking in the middle of a public park while you happily chattered by his side, holding onto the blanket and gushing about how cute and romantic the date was going to be

but now he suddenly had a new goal - to find the most remote spot where the chances of other people coming up on you were almost zero, because he couldn't go through the whole day without at least slipping his fingers into you

at first you were oblivious to your boyfriend's plight, noting his squirming and his dark eyes, but he seemed completely normal, talking to you like always, and if it wasn't for the occasional glance to your exposed legs, you wouldn't even notice something was going on in that naughty brain of his. he only started pushing up on you after the food was all gone and you two had started to relax into the blanket

a finger or two, trailing up and down your naked thigh, nothing unusual. Soobin's hitching breath and excited eyes, also something you'd gotten used to over the time - the man seemed to be always fired up, especially around you. it was when the fingers smoothly slipped between your thighs and pressed against the seat of your panties your breath hitched and liquid fire started coursing through your veins

Soobin didn't expect you to give in so easily, didn't expect you to shyly look around to check you were still alone before spreading your legs for him, and it had such potent lust barreling through him he physically felt the front of his pants getting tighter. sinking those naughty fingers into was never easier, and he was getting tunnel vision, only thinking about making you cum right here, in the middle of a park. and you, it was to shameful to admit out loud, but you've never felt wetter, the anticipation and adrenaline stoking your arousal higher and higher

actually, you had to bite your lip to stop the embarrassingly loud moan from falling out your lips the moment Soobin fit his long boney fingers inside and started enthusiastically pumping them into you, immediately driving you closer towards the edge with how excited the both of you were

and Soobin thought that fingering you would be enough for him, but you were so good for him, accepting him so easily, and he was so hard. he needed you, he needed to slide inside that pretty tight cunt of yours, and he needed it now

you did panic a little when he suddenly pulled his hand away and pulled you until you were lying on your front, lying over you and pressing himself close. after all, hands in pants could easily be hidden, but now if someone wandered over here, there was no getting out of it - were you really about to risk that much?

yes, yes you were, and you loved it

arching your back and pushing your ass into his hardened crotch, Soobin got the memo to get on with it, quickly so the chances of someone finding you were even smaller. he didn't waste time and quickly undid his pants, sliding them down just enough to take out his cock, and pushing your panties to the side he started cramming himself into you

it went easier than you two anticipated, with how wet you were, and soon Soobin was quickly thrusting into you, fucking you into the blanket while you both attempted to maintain look out, but were spiralling into the all-consuming pleasure too hard

you heard the man's eager grunts in your neck as his pace spiralled out of control, just chasing both of your orgasms, and you were so close too, the public setting pushing into you the sense of wrongness and urgency that had you throbbing and clenching around Soobin's cock sooner than you'd care to admit

the orgasms hit you like a brick wall, and you barely managed to swallow that raspy desperate moan clawing its way out as Soobin's hands gripped your hips tighter and he barreled into you harder and faster, pressing you into the ground before you felt his throbbing cock jerk inside of you and he was cumming with a quiet drawn out whine

lying back on the blanket side by side and watching each other's red blushing cheeks and thrilled smiles had the pleasure burning through you longer, and you were only just settling back into your body after one of the fiercest orgasms you had in recent memory. and judging by Soobin's fucked out hazy eyes, it was quite similar for him

but he wasn't quite done yet - when he went to clean up, he just pushed your panties back into place, leaving his still warm load nice and deep inside your cunt.

"be good for me baby, and hold that nicely till we get home"

with a wink he was done, sitting back on his side like nothing happened

and when only a few minutes later a dog owner passed by, you were thanking god with blushing cheeks that you managed to have your sweet cake and eat it too

and we're back!!! second day of hard hours kicking off with this fun ask! hope you enjoyed yourself!

i'll be breathlessly awaiting more, i'm so curious about your fantasies guys <3

divider from @cafekitsune

#hard hours #txt hard hours #txt smut #soobin smut

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mikeysbabygirl · 1 year ago

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𝑻𝒐𝒌𝒚𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾 𝑯𝒄'𝒔

Warning : you read it pretty well. NSFW. Which means minors do not INTERRACT.

Ft : Rindou, inupi

𝙍𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙤𝙪 𝙃𝙖𝙞𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙞 :

Perfect boyfriend, right ?

You'll never run out of playlists to listen to with Rindou as boyfriend.

Cold ? He's got about ten hoodies that he likes seeing on you, hanging lose on your thighs, would spray them of his own fragrance after washing them just to know you have his perfume on you wherever you are.

I'm getting at the main point which is...

The jealousy of this man is vice.

As you know, Rindou is a man of few words. Your boyfriend would never tell you straight forward that he is jealous, or have a healthy, honest conversation with you.

He would rather...

Why did he introduced you to Haruchiyo at first ? He should have known that guy would always go out of his ways to make him mad. Just like he was doing now, brushing his lips every now and then against your cheeks as he tells you jokes that Rindou thinks really do not deserve such overdone laughs from you.

The uncomfortable feeling makes his chest tingle, yet Rindou would rather die than admit it to you. But don't you think he would forget, this guy is like a ticking clock, registering every little thing you do for the right time.

In the mean time, you would never get to see Haruchiyo again. Nor any other Tenjiku member.

Rindou really thinks he loves you. Though he still holds that grudge, he can't help but driving you home from school every evening, can't help but think about you randomly during the day, or at night when he's fucking that fist on a pretty nude from you.

But he's registering, and he secretly hoped you would not make any other "mistake", but you do.

You were having so much fun tonight, and if Rindou was anyone else, he would have felt guilty.

But he is Rindou fucking Haitani, and he warned you. These days, Tokyo, at night was not one of the safest places, Kanto Manji was having some troubles with an opponent gang. Would you have been any other girl he dated, he wouldn't have cared. But again, you're so more than that.

He thinks you're so pretty, so eyecatchy. As always, your eyes are the shiniest, and when you spot him from the other end of the club, making his way toward where you're dancing with your friends, they widen the slightest.

He is not the type to embarrass you in front of your friends or anything, believe me.

Close your eyes, imagine this.

The crowd, the dancing bodies, and everything disappears as soon as his lips brush against your cheeks. His blonde locks tickle your neck, and his hands too gently lays on the small of your back. Rindou's fragrance invades your nostrils as much as his deep voice does with your ear.

-" have it your way, love. 'm just gonna sit here and wait for ya. Just be sure you're ready for whatever I got for you. "

Then, just as if it was a dream, his touch flies away, as much as his perfume which lingered a little longer behind him, reminding you just how fucked up you are.

From the other end of the club, your boyfriend looks... Devilishly handsome, first buttons of his white shirt are undone, hair slightly messy, you could almost see his bloodshot eyes from afar watching every move you make. At some point, you're pretty sure you've seen those pretty lips smirk.

This is where I'm getting at, my next main point.

The most important thing I could say as a nsfw fact about Rindou, is his relentless dominance.

He is, the perfect boyfriend from outside. The most protective, caring lover you could ever dream of.

Perfect boyfriend, has his hands around your neck, his tie wrapped tightly around your wrists, that purple gaze usually soft for you looks like it could kill you right now.

-" I'm sorry- Rin', move please, I'm so... So, so fucking sorry, just move " moving your core to chase some friction doesn't even work, he's hell bent on making you cockwarm him all the night, watching you slightly struggling to breath with his hand on your throat.

Usually, he is a man of few words mainly because he is a good listener, especially when you are talking. But tonight, he doesn't even care to hear a word you're saying. He dives deep in the feeling of your pussy wrapped up around him, an expressionless face while he presses kisses on every damn inch of your face and neck.

You both know that these kiss also aren't meant for reassuring, just because he can't seem to get enough of you.

The cold metal of his rings tightens slightly around your throat, having your eyes widening, a groan leaves his mouth so much your doe eyes make his cock throb.

-" Love the way you're taking me. Got me goddamn obsessed. "

Just because you're his own little addiction, just because your walls clench tighter around him at his words, he rolls his hips the slightest bit, making your eyes roll back in your head.

-" You look just as good as a Haitani's wife, laying all pretty under daddy, hugging my dick like my lil pillow princess ".

Because that is what he had wanted to make you, and no matter how independent you are, there is no other way being around Rindou. He lived to mold you into his perfect girl, no way of taking the lead, a simple sharp glance from him makes your heart drop.

Best Tenjiku boyfriend, they say. Yes, he is. So caring, always so much...

And the smirks, small laughs from that pretty face seeing the pain mixing with pleasure on your face are the proof. The perfect, most sadistic boyfriend. Giving a sharp, rough thrust inside you so suddenly that it had you crying his name, balls rubbing against your abused clit.

-" cry all you want " he crooked an eyebrow. "Your screams only got me wanna ruin this pussy. Ain't it the best way to make sure my baby's gonna behave ?"

-" Hm ? Say, love ?"

-" What a man gotta do to protect his best fucking girl, nah ?"

𝑰𝒏𝒖𝒊 𝑺𝒆𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒖 :

What a sweet guy, he is sugar coated, honey dripping.

You two could have met after a kinda hard time of your life, you were lacking a lot of trust in people in general and particularly in men.

But Seishu was so soft with you, so careful and fair-play that you ended up trusting him with your life, going around everywhere calling him your...

Your best friend.

Maybe he hadn't been perfectly fair-play into that last one... But he swears he had wanted to be your best friend, at a time.

It was just about how your hands moved around your face as you talked with excitement, about your teeth flashing and eyes sparkling with every smile you reserved only for him. It was about your scent lingering in his t-shirts after hours of hugging him from behind on night rides on his bike, the scent he never truly wanted to wash.

And soon, he started noticing his eagerness to have his hands lingering on you ( what was honestly foreign for Seishu), began feeling the need to find hidden meanings in the books you recommended him, and being even more protective toward you than usual.

Now Seishu would never disrespect you, or your will. If you wanted him as a best friend, then he would take what you had to give him. He would rather suffer that way than lose you at all, believe me, for someone who experienced loneliness, he would rather not go through your absence.

And so it goes, the play starts, he puts the mask, some make up on the ugly unwanted feelings, carries your shopping bags for you, helps you chose your outfit of the day, listen to all your stories about you how much of a loser your ex was, and kisses your cheek goodbye right before turning his back, dropping the mask, and untying his lacerated heart.

But deep inside, Seishu Inui is not as sugar coated as you think he is. Seishu Inui wished he was as innocent, honest with you as you thought he was, but he was not, and the first time you discovered it was...

-" You're my best friend, Sei. It's pouring outside, no need to argue, no bike. you're staying the night. "

It's too late now, you fell asleep, and he should've known, not even a king size bed could've prevented this from happening.

Your ( his) shirt was riding your hips, the covers sliding lower, the cold weather pushed you closer to his heat radiating body. A sigh escaped your lips, just as a beat escaped from his heart as you trapped his leg between your thighs, unconsciously laying your head on his arm.

Picture this, Seishu's blonde hair sprayed on your pillows, his flushed face, sleepy eyes, not moving an inch, frozen.

Or maybe just an inch, just to get into a more comfortable position-

But the friction his leg brought between your thighs had you knitting your eyebrows, a small gasp leaving your lips, something to awaken few things in Seishu.

As the respectful man he is, Seishu tries pushing your thighs away, but that only adds to that friction. And now he has you in your sleep, unconsciously rubbing yourself against him, he thinks he lost it.

Your t-shirts hangs on your waist now, Seishu hates the way his abdomen contracts seeing your bare lower half. And you're wearing nothing but your cute white panties, thus making him feel every move of your clit against his thigh.

He hates himself, and you would probably hate him too, but he swore he saw your eyelashes fluttering at some time, as you desperately chased more friction, and that convinced him to bounce his thigh harder against your clothed cunt.

-" Fuck... " He swears he's gonna stop, but he freezes the moment he hears a broken whisper.

-" Sei- ?"

Your interrogating eyes feel like a stab in the chest, Seishu would bend the knee, apologize until the end of the world, but-

But it seems your little dry humping made you unleash all of the restraints, you roll on your side and find yourself on top of him, legs on each side of his waist.

Seishu's just so pretty, mouth agape, the blue of his eyes is a meer ring around those pupils dilated from pleasure, you think he's gonna push you away. But some god must have been generous enough to give him that chance, he'd be damned to let it go. His hands find your bare hips.

-" You sure 'bout this ? " He hesitantly whispers, though his dick throbs crazy in his sweatpants, he would never neglect your needs. " Just a word, pretty girl. Just a word and I'm giving you all of my fucking love. "

From now on, Seishu solely believed that good things come to those who wait for it. Since after months and months of running from the shadow of his feelings for you, now his eyes were in bliss, swallowing every inch of you sinking on every inch of his hard cock.

Now now, Inui is a gentleman, a respectful, harmless guy.

But with your walls so tightly wrapped around him, he can't help but buckle his hips harder to meet your thrusts, can't help but grab your tits, kneading the flesh in his hands until he had you crying from pleasure and pain. Yes, Seishu is such a sweet guy, he solely believes this behavior is only what months of frustration have made of him.

And his best friend, Kokonoi had already told you once, though you didn't believed it " Seishu can be blunt sometimes ". Another thing you were yet to discover.

Those pretty lips that usually talked so nicely to you, those words that comforted you through your worst times seemed to get trapped behind the pleasure ravaging his lower half, because-

-" gotta slightest idea what you do to me ?" He thrusts his hips once again, circularly, giving particular attention to your clit. " How many times your slutty little skirts made my cock hard ?"

It drives him crazy, how your eyes widen innocently at his statement, meanwhile your pussy clenches in such a sultry around him. Intoxicating. You never knew you'd like those dirty words from the softest man you've known.

-" Pretty girl got me fucking my fist nearly every night. Shit- can feel you close, you like it dontcha ? My gorgeous baby, that's everything you truly ever wanted, right ? Having me fucking obsessed ? Pushing me to my damn limits ? Uh-"

But Seishu Inui is a dirty talker, behind closed doors, Seishu Inui is a hard groper, a carelessly harsh fucker, a sweet lover. Seishu Inui is the perfect mix.

Does anyone even remember who I am ?

Yeah I'm back, I guess ?

Hi everyone 🫶 Hope y'all doing fine and all, wassup ?

#tokyo rev x you #tokyo revengers spoilers #bonten x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers angst #rindou haitani x reader #rindou haitani #rindou x y/n #haitani rindou #haitani brothers #seishu inui #seishu inui x reader #inui x you #inui x reader #tr inui

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