#i want to be in a cold place in front of a fireplace like that so badly | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pedropascallme · 27 days ago

Text

Teach Me Something

Pairing: König x f!Reader

Summary: “But the thermal wear was tight, hugging your body and intensifying your silhouette. Maybe it could be considered sexy; maybe part of you hoped that König would think so.”

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI!!!!) p in v sex, fingering, oral (m & f receiving), face fucking, forced proximity, size kink, mentions of overstimulation, use of honorifics (“Colonel”) in a sexual scenario, dom/sub dynamics, dom!König but he's pathetically needy, rough sex, dirty talk (a lot of it is in German), creampie, implication of cumplay, if I missed anything please let me know!!

AN: One bed trope CAUSE I CAN. Also I don't speak German, so if you do speak German and this sounds like absolute gibberish to you, I'm sorry in advance <3

What had seemed like a promising respite from such a drawn-out mission had swiftly proven to be less than liberating and more of a tease.

On the outside, the safehouse looked like a cabin out of a Christmas movie—something cheesy and re-watchable that you might put on around the holidays as background noise. Sturdy, light wood, powdered with snow.

It didn't look out of place in the forested locale, and anybody passing through would likely think it was a fixture of the area; a quaint vacation home to a little nuclear family.

But on the inside, it was absolutely barebones, and that was putting it lightly.

A raw sort of cold crept in through cracks, and the breeze inched over the thick layers of dust on every surface. It looked like you and König would be the first people to use it in months, if not years.

The chill was uncomfortable, and while the fireplace would've been a delightful way to quell the chatter of your teeth, you knew you couldn't use it—smoke from the chimney could alert anybody of your whereabouts, and the last thing you wanted right now was more practice in self-defense.

There was a small armchair pushed into one corner, and the green velvet faded on the back to reveal frayed weaving. One single bed was pushed to the far side of the tiny room, seemingly frozen in time, and you wondered if the blankets would even peel back from the mattress.

The only source of light was a standing lamp, and when you yanked the cord, it flickered piteously.

Instructions had been clear, and you knew you'd only be here for a night before you had to keep moving, but you couldn't help but huff at the state of the cabin when you had spent all day on the move.

König walked in behind you with a huff; he hated snow, and he abhorred waiting in a safehouse like a sitting duck all the more.

“Mein Gott…” He shook his head, shivering dramatically.

“It’s just a little snow, Colonel.”

You could’ve laughed at the display. You knew he was overreacting; he tended to, and a man of his size couldn’t get cold very easily.

“We will freeze before evacuation, maus.” He grumbled, closing the door with a grunt.

“You’ll live.” You cooed, smiling.

You wouldn't go as far as calling him your friend, but König was certainly a welcome presence despite his intimidating demeanor. He was clever, and an effective soldier; a generally amiable person when he was in the right mood.

And it helped that he was nice to look at.

You appreciated that he actually spoke during operations. Some people—especially superior officers, you'd found—preferred to stay stoic and silent, even at the best of times. But König was chatty, in his own right.

It was clear that he liked the sound of his own voice, but you didn't mind; he could be funny, a refreshing source of entertainment on and off the field. His thick accent and less than stellar pronunciations often led to even more amusement in conversations with him.

He never spoke about himself—you didn't even think König was his real name; you knew it probably wasn’t. But it was the name he responded to, and it was the one you mumbled when thoughts of him forced their way to the front of your mind as you pressed down just right on your clit.

You made your way to the derelict bed, unhooking your chest rig and tossing it onto the mattress. You half expected the frame to collapse, but it was a pleasant surprise when all you got was a quiet squeak from the bedsprings.

“What are you doing?” König watched intently as you lay your belongings out.

“Putting my stuff down.” You looked at him over your shoulder, quirking a brow.

“On the bed.” He was just voicing what he saw, but you knew he had ulterior motives.

“Didn’t see your name on it,” you turned to face him properly, eying him where he leaned against the door. “Take the chair.” You nodded at the armchair in the opposite corner of the room.

König scoffed softly.

“You are joking?”

“Or you could take the floor,” you couldn’t help but smile; you enjoyed riling him up. “Plenty of room for you to stretch out.”

He shook his head, and you watched his eyes narrow behind the mask.

“No. You are smaller than me. You sleep in the chair; I have the bed.” He said it with a sense of finality, reminding you that he was, in fact, in charge.

“That’s not fair.” You argued, crossing your arms.

“You wanted me to sleep on the floor,” he pushed himself off the wall and took a step closer to you, “I am being kind.”

“You’re not,” you scowled, “Not at all gentlemanly, either.”

He chuckled, tilting his head to the side.

“If you will make such a fuss, we will sleep in the bed together, Kleine.”

“Seriously?” You balked at his words, caught off guard.

“Is it a bad idea?” It was almost as if he was goading you; toeing the line to see if you’d agree or if you’d back down.

It wasn’t uncharacteristic of him; he enjoyed teasing you as much as you enjoyed teasing him. He liked to see how hard he could push you when you were deployed together. It brought him a sort of contentment to see you squirm.

It was innocent, as far as you were concerned, and he knew he had the power to do it.

“No…” you decided not to bow to his prodding. “I just—are we allowed to…I mean, I’m fine with it, if you’re fine with it.”

You practically scoffed, uncrossing your arms and gesturing vaguely.

“I just…yeah. No—yeah, that’s a—…let’s just share,” you nodded, trying to reason aloud as you made your decision. “Better for…body heat.”

He nodded, and you were certain he was smiling beneath his mask.

You grabbed your chest rig from the bed and tossed it onto the armchair. Slowly, you began peeling off your kit. The thermal under layer of your uniform was perfect for sleep, and you weren’t about to crawl into bed with the military-grade fabric still on.

But the thermal wear was tight, hugging your body and intensifying your silhouette. Maybe it could be considered sexy; maybe part of you hoped that König would think so.

You shoved your clothes onto the chair with your chest rig, turning back to face the bed.

König had already prepared himself for bed, and you were nearly startled when you looked up to see his mask gone.

It was a rarity; he wore it 90% of the time, probably more as an intimidation tactic, but you also assumed it was a comfort thing.

The more shocking revelation was that he’d stripped down completely, forgoing even the thermals, as he sat on the edge of the bed in just his boxers.

“Not gonna get cold?” You quirked a brow, not at all unsatisfied by the unobstructed view of his form, but still a bit taken aback.

“It is nice in here,” he sighed, rolling his shoulders before rubbing a hand over his chest. “And your body will be warm.”

His phrasing made you roll your eyes, but you smiled just a little.

“Alright, Colonel,” you shook your head, “Sure.”

You ambled over to the bed, pulling the blanket back and frowning when you realized how thin the material was. But you situated yourself beneath it all the same, lying on your side and eager to curl up and allow yourself to get some rest.

When König maneuvered himself beneath the blanket next to you, you threw a look over your shoulder at him.

“No funny shit,” you glared, though it was playful, “Hands to yourself, or I’ll cut them off.”

König laughed lightly, folding his arms over his chest.

“I will not touch you, Kleine.” He was amused by your threat, but humored you.

“Good answer.” You settled back onto your side.

You found yourself unable to relax.

The room hadn’t warmed up in the short time you’d been inside, and you couldn’t seem to garner the warmth to get comfortable enough to fall asleep. The thermal clothing wasn’t doing much, and the wind howling against the wood of the cabin put you on edge.

If you were less proud, you might have pushed yourself up against König in search of warmth and comfort. Instead, you let yourself continue to shiver, huffing softly.

But your exasperated sigh turned into more of a stunned gasp when you felt König reach out for you, tugging you into him until your back pressed against his chest.

“Said hands to yourself.” You mumbled, though the relief was immediate. The warmth of his body permeated the thermal shirt you donned and sept into your skin.

“Sh,” he splayed his hand against your stomach. “Dir ist kalt.”

“I’m not cold. I’m…” You tried to think of a valid argument, “I’m not cold.”

He grunted, a wordless response of disbelief.

The room fell quiet again, and you stayed pressed against his body. Part of you was tempted to grab his hand, lace your fingers with his and lean into the situation. But you stayed still and just appreciated the position you’d been pulled into.

“You understand me often now,” König’s voice broke through the silence. “You did not know German like this before.”

“Hard not to pick up on bits and pieces,” you were whispering, but you weren’t sure why. “Most of what you say over comms is German.”

“You are learning, maus,” he seemed pleased, his thumb brushing over your stomach. “Tell me.”

“I know that maus means mouse,” your voice picked up a bit, eager to share the small amount of German you had learned. “Was war das means what was that. Schnell is quickly, ich weiß is I know.”

You paused, thinking for a moment before you continued.

“Verdammt is damn it, and geh zum Teufel means go to hell. I think.”

He let out a small laugh behind you, and you felt his chest move against your back.

“Gut.” Though you couldn’t see it, you could hear the motion of his head against the pillow as he nodded.

You found the confidence to turn over, adjusting yourself enough to face him while staying pressed to his chest.

“Will you teach me more?” You asked, sincerely curious about the other phrases you'd heard him use.

He smiled. “What do you want to know, maus?”

“Will you…” you smirked, thinking, “Will you teach me more curses?”

“Girl after my heart,” he chuckled, running his hand over your back in an oddly docile gesture. “Ja, I will show you.”

He thought for a moment, squinting into the dark of the room as he considered where to begin.

“Em…to call someone’s mother a whore: huresohn.”

“Starting strong.” You laughed, chancing a glance at him.

“There are no weak curses in German.” He smiled down at you. “Scheiße is shit.”

“I know that one.” You yawned, placing an open palm on his chest.

“Fine, then, you are so proud of your skill; Weißt du was Schlampe ist?” He quirked a brow at you, smug.

“You’re going too fast—” you complained, pushing against his chest. “Do I know what what is?”

“Keep up, Kleine.”

“Kleine means small.”

“No—” He furrowed his brow, “Ja, it does, but also ‘little one.’”

You paused, looking up at him again.

“Little one?” You asked, echoing his words.

“Ja.” He nodded, sighing softly.

“Colonel, when you say things like that, I’m almost convinced you have a soft spot for me.” You smiled, putting your other hand on his chest and playfully pushing against him a bit harder.

“Vielleicht,” he moved to place his free hand over one of yours as you pushed him. “Ja.”

There was a pause, both of you taking a moment to stew in the silence and the feeling of each other.

“König…” You were whispering again, staring at how his hand dwarfed your own.

He looked down at you expectantly.

“I have—…I want to know one more thing.” You shuffled up the bed slightly, trying to position yourself to match his eyeline.

“Ok,” he nodded, now moving his hand to toy with a loose strand of your hair. “What?”

“How do you say…”

You could feel yourself shiver, but it had nothing to do with the cold, which you had long forgotten. You worried about overstepping, about saying the wrong thing and making the situation awkward and uncomfortable.

“How do you ask someone to—to kiss you?” You asked anyway.

You saw a flash of something in his eyes.

He paused, tucking your hair behind your ear and letting his fingers trace down your jawline until he could hook a finger under your chin.

“Küss mich.” He scanned your features, watching for a response.

“Küss mich…” You stared back at him, your lips parted.

You felt dazed, but it wasn’t unwelcome; there was a heat in your lower stomach, and it grew with every twitch of his fingers against your skin and with every word he spoke.

“Braves Mädchen.” His words were muttered as he leaned into you, capturing your lips with his and kissing you.

You squeaked, clawing at his chest before slowly reaching around him to pull him closer by the nape of his neck. You could feel his pulse, the quick thrum of his heart pushing against his skin almost as intensely as your own.

The kiss was covetous. He wasted no time pushing his tongue into your mouth, eager to taste every part of you; and you were eager to let him. You cupped the back of his head, pulling him into you, and he perched his hands on your waist, manipulating your body slowly until you were on top of him.

The position was awkward, but you could hardly notice when you were so focused on him. His touch was so warm, and you felt yourself melting beneath his palms; your skin was on fire, but it was a happily received blaze.

The chill of the room that had crept into your bones was long gone, replaced by the heat of his grip on your body.

You trailed your hands over him, taking in the feel of his skin beneath your fingertips. He was so large, muscular in a comforting way, and you whimpered softly against his lips when he gave your hip a squeeze.

“So long,” König mumbled against your jaw, “Have waited so long.”

“For this?” You breathed, closing your eyes and losing yourself in the way his hands trailed over you.

“For you.” He growled, pressing kisses to your throat.

You giggled at the feeling, his lips tickling your pulse point, but he didn’t stop—if anything, it just spurred him on.

“Liebling,” he spoke against the sensitive skin of your neck, “Meine Kleine. Do you know how you tease?”

“I d—I don’t tease, Colonel.” You moaned when he sucked a bruise into your neck.

“You are doing it now,” he tsked, “Telling me no hands—if that is what you want, shall I stop, ja?”

“No...” You whined; the thought of him removing himself from you now was deeply upsetting.

König huffed a laugh against your throat, straightening back up to meet your gaze again.

“Always teasing,” he reiterated as he brought his hand to your face, forcing you to keep your eyes on him. “In these silly clothes when I invite you to bed with me.”

“Off—” Your plea came out rushed and unfinished, “Take them off, then.”

He laughed louder now, pleased by your zeal.

“Greedy maus,” he ran his thumb over your cheek, “Move, then—I will help.”

You scrambled to push yourself off of him, sitting up and waiting to see what he’d do—whether you’d be faced with further instructions, or if he’d simply take the opportunity to strip you as you’d asked him to.

He sat up with you, studying you as you clamored to kneel next to him on the mattress.

“Come.” He beckoned you, and you shuffled forward until your face was mere inches from his.

He caressed your sides, and despite the gentle, chaste nature of the touch, you whimpered softly. König curled his fingers beneath the hem of your shirt, tugging it over your head slowly—almost teasingly, as he exposed your top half.

It wasn’t out of any urge to taunt you, he was just so thrilled to be able to see you bare yourself to him; to scan every inch of your flesh.

He tossed the shirt to the side, and you made a mental note to grab it later so you didn’t leave without it.

“Back,” he instructed, pressing on your shoulder to encourage you to lie down, and you obliged happily. “Raise your hips, Kleine.”

You pushed yourself off the mattress awkwardly, trying to give him the space he needed to strip you of the final bits of fabric.

He hooked his fingers under the waistband of your thermals, huffing impatiently when he realized that you had underwear on beneath the thermal layer. But he chuckled as he peeled both articles of clothing down your legs, and you let out a quiet gasp as the cool air of the room hit your core.

“So eager,” he tutted, tossing your bottoms in the same direction he’d thrown your top. “Just a touch. You are so easy to please.”

“Shut up…” You muttered, turning your head to the side to hide your satisfaction.

He grunted, bringing his hand to your face and squeezing your cheeks as he moved your head to look up at him again.

“Cruel girl—this is no way to talk to your Colonel.” The cold blue of his eyes somehow seemed to turn red hot; demanding and predatory.

“König—” you stuttered, “Colonel. Please.”

“What would you like, Kleine?” He kept his hand on your face, enjoying the way his palm swallowed you. “Be honest.”

“Fuck me,” you breathed, “Want you to fuck me.”

Upon hearing your words, he laughed, removing his hand from your face and trailing it over your exposed breasts.

“Fuck you? Already?” He kneaded the plush flesh of your chest. “We will be here all night, meine Liebe—I want to enjoy you.”

“Now you’re teasing.” You whined, arching your body into his touch.

“No,” he shook his head with a smirk, his eyes never leaving your chest as he groped you. “I will make you feel nice.”

With that, he leaned over you. His tongue followed a messy trail over your tits; circling your nipples before pressing his lips against the pillowy skin to suck deep marks into you. He treated it like a game—a meal, even, as he nipped at you, learning and memorizing what would make you squirm beneath him.

When he grazed his teeth over your nipple, you let out a sharp moan, reaching down to press his face further into your chest.

“No hands.” He mumbled into your skin, and you sighed dreamily.

“Think we’re past that…” You let your other hand wander over his shoulder blade.

“We are not,” he pushed himself off of you, forcing your hands away as he rose. He found enough balance to grab both your wrists, pressing them into the pillow on either side of your head. “You must listen when I say these things, Kleine.”

You whimpered, nodding an affirmative.

“Do you understand?” He looked down at you, “You will tell me. Speak.”

“Yes,” you nodded again, swallowing. “I understand, Colonel.”

He let go of your wrists, and his chest heaved; with lust or pride, you couldn’t tell, but it was likely a combination of both.

As he pushed himself down the bed, he couldn’t seem to separate himself from your body; pressing his face, his lips, into your skin; murmuring against you as if he wanted your bones to hear the filth that fell from his mouth.

“Such a pretty girl,” he mouthed just beneath your navel, “Finally behaved.”

You bucked your hips, trying to encourage him to bring his mouth down to where you needed it most. But he bypassed your cunt completely, situating himself between your legs and biting at your thighs, only eyeing your core.

“Maus…” He sighed the petname, pressing kisses to your inner thigh before finally releasing his grasp on your leg. “So wet from kisses?”

He leaned forward, as if to drown his senses in you; your scent and your image, he wanted to appreciate it fully.

“Pathetic, a bit, mm?” He swiped a finger through your folds, collecting your slick, and you whimpered. “So desperate, to drip like this…”

“König,” you were whispering, afraid to warp the charged atmosphere. “You can do anything; just do something.”

He laughed at that, basking in the pleas you directed towards him as he removed his hand from your cunt and pressed a kiss to your clit.

“Schlampe.”

He buried his face against you, pushing his tongue into your entrance and lapping up the slick that dripped from your core.

You moaned, raising your hips off the mattress in an effort to find even more friction. König pressed down on your hips, effectively pinning you to the bed; holding you captive with his grasp and the movement of his mouth.

“Sweet engel,” he moaned against your cunt, “You taste like heaven, Kleine.”

“Fuck—” His actions were one thing, but his words hit you hard; it felt like forever since you’d been with someone who showed so much enthusiasm.

His gruff moans as he lapped you up only served to push you further towards the precipice of total pleasure, and you could feel yourself teetering over the edge already.

“You are so excited, Liebling,” König groaned bringing a hand up to press two thick fingers against your entrance. “Wetting my face this way, but still too tight for my hand.”

He began to nudge your hole, letting his fingers circle your entrance before sinking into you. He went as far as the first knuckle before stopping.

“Scheiße,” he cursed as he watched your cunt struggle around his fingers, “How will you take my cock, Kleine?”

You whimpered at the way his fingers stretched you; penetrating you shallowly, but enough to make you feel so full.

“You can—I’ll—I can take it,” you stammered, “Please, Colonel, make me take it.”

“Bitte…” König’s moan neared a whimper, pushing his fingers deeper into you. He bucked his hips against the mattress in response to your words and the filthy squelch of your cunt around his hand. “Whatever it is you want, maus, I will do for you.”

“More,” you begged softly, “Want more.”

He smirked, more to himself than to you, and continued his ministrations.

He wrapped his lips around your clit, flicking his tongue over you as he fucked you with his fingers. Whenever he heard you let out a soft gasp, he increased his pace.

“Probably one more can fit,” he spoke against your pubic mound, his lips finding purchase on your body again and exploring more of you with his tongue as he threatened your entrance with another finger. “Ja, Kleine?”

“Yes—another one.” You were so hot, maybe even sweating as he worked you open, but the flush of your skin did nothing to discourage you from whimpering for his hand.

He pushed a third finger into you, and the stretch made your body contort; your back arched and your legs tensed. The pads of his fingers danced over your most delicate spot as he thrust them in and out of you.

The pressure in your abdomen was immense, but damn, if it didn’t feel amazing.

And he was thrilled by you. Every sound you made and every clench of your walls around him made König feel lightheaded, grinding himself down against the bed just for a moment of relief; imagining the pure bliss that would be getting to bury himself inside of you.

He could feel his boxers growing damp, the tip of his cock crying for you, just as you cried out for him.

“Little thing, so tight,” he was moaning, his sounds almost as eager as your own as he lay his head on your thigh to watch his fingers work you open. “Verdammt, Schatz—bitte, bitte, cum on my hand like this.”

He dipped his head down to lick the slick that coated his fingers, gradually moving his tongue so that it dragged over his fingers and up to your clit. He sucked the bud between his lips, and you white-knuckled the pillow beneath your head with both hands, the pleasure overwhelming to the point that it was almost too much.

You came with a cry of his name, just as you always did; but this time he was there with you to hear it; this time he was the one manipulating you to feel the rush of ecstasy.

“Hübsche Hure…” König continued to push his fingers in and out of you, determined to push you to the brink and see just how much you could take as your legs trembled from the overstimulation. “So good for your Colonel. So good to let me prepare you.”

You keened under his praise, your eyelids heavy. When he removed his fingers from you, you regained your senses as the pleasure that had wound itself so tightly around your muscles began to dissipate, leaving you in a hazy state of fucked-out bliss and feeling empty.

You reached down to brush your knuckles over his cheek, and he closed his eyes when your hand made contact with him, still resting on your thigh.

“You will look so pretty wrapped around me, Liebling.” He murmured, turning his face and kissing your hand.

He’d seemed to have forgotten about his previous request that you keep your hands to yourself—that, or he was too drunk off of you to care, content with the domestic gesture of your fingers trailing over his skin.

“Show me,” you whispered, the dull ache his fingers had left in your core swelled at his words, and you found yourself squeezing your thighs together in anticipation. “I want more.”

“Eine Schlampe tut es immer,” he muttered. He moved to lick up your thigh, savoring the slick that had gathered there to make your skin shiny and syrupy. “You will stay like that.”

You nodded, watching him perch himself on the edge of the bed before he stood.

You almost felt like you should avert your gaze; he fiddled with the waistband of his boxers, and you noticed the slick spot on the fabric that highlighted his need for you. It flooded you with a new wave of arousal—to want and to be wanted was such a tremendous thing.

But it was when he removed his boxers that you felt your breath hitch, eyes widening slightly in an almost comic way before you turned your head to stare up at the ceiling.

You had figured his mentions of readying you were just rooted in König being typically boastful. But the image of his cock, hard and weeping and big, as it sprung free from the confines of his boxers made you recognize that his preparatory measures were warranted.

Your mouth watered, but you maintained your gaze on the ceiling.

“Look,” König approached the edge of the bed, “Look at me, Kleine.”

You didn’t really need to be told twice, shifting onto your side to admire him; big might’ve been an understatement, and your lips parted as you lay still, just staring.

“Touch.” The harshness in his voice as he delivered the command was undercut by the tender way he reached for your hand and guided it to his cock.

You wrapped your fingers around the base, and König let out a short sound of approval. It made you feel powerful, to have a man like him by the cock, to be forcing such sweet noises up from his chest.

But mostly it just made you want even more.

“Bitte,” he bucked his hips leisurely into your hand, your dry palm creating the friction he’d been chasing, “Your mouth, engel. Taste.”

You hummed at his request, leaning forward to lick circles over the head of his cock. The sound that came from his throat was choked, stifled as best he could manage when you took the tip beyond your lips and hollowed your cheeks.

“Oh—Gott,” he tilted his head back, eyes closing as he relished the way you wrapped your lips around him. “Perfekter kleiner mund.”

You couldn’t tell exactly what he was saying, but you knew enough to know that he liked what you were doing, and it spurred you on.

You leaned further into him, trying your best to take more of him into your mouth and down your throat. A bit less than halfway down his shaft, you found yourself gagging; spluttering around him as you jerked the rest of his length in your hand. He grunted out a curse, bringing a hand to your hair and tugging gently at your roots.

“Very nice, maus,” he groaned when you glanced up at him, lips still wrapped around his cock, choking on him. “Take it deeper.”

You lifted yourself off of him, drooling.

“Too much…” You croaked out, “Too—too big. I can’t.”

It felt so conformist to say; expected, like an actress in a porno, faking it for the camera. And despite the fact that the words that left your mouth seemed almost cringeworthy, what you said was true: there was no way you'd be able to manage taking all of him.

But you loved a challenge.

“I was not asking,” he tsked, tightening his grip on your hair and earning a moan that traveled from your mouth in a breathy puff. “Put your mouth back. I will help.”

You whimpered, rubbing your thighs together as you lowered yourself back onto his cock and wrapped your lips around him. His authoritative nature on the field was always more attractive than it should’ve been, but this took the cake.

König fucked into your mouth like it was a toy, guiding you up and down over his cock, using your hair like a handle as he pulled you over his length.

You choked, spit and tears mingling on your face and dripping down his length, and he seemed to enjoy the sight as much as you enjoyed the feeling; his moans grew louder, the image of you helpless under his grasp getting him off in equal measure as the feeling of your mouth on his stiff cock.

He pulled you off abruptly, removing his grip from your hair and trailing his hand from behind your head to perch on your cheek. He wiped stray tears from your face with his thumb.

“I will cum if we keep playing this way, Kleine,” he panted, “And I would rather fill your cunt.”

You moaned wantonly at his words alone; he spoke so plainly, clear about his intentions, and you whimpered at the notion of having him spill inside of you.

“Fuck me, then,” you sighed, using the back of your hand to wipe your mouth. You took on a playful cadence, “Don’t keep me waiting, König.”

“Not waiting,” he shook his head, grabbing you by the chin and forcing your eyes on him. “Preparing.”

“Show me what you were preparing me for, Colonel.” You smirked, watching his face contort in arousal and a smug sense of assuredness.

He didn’t hesitate to climb onto the bed and hover over you, pressing a kiss to your chest just above your breasts before settling between your legs.

“You are impatient,” he muttered, “I only wanted to make you comfortable, Liebling.”

He held your hip in a vice grip, tugging you down the bed a bit to line himself up with you.

“No complaints when you are given what you have begged for.” He looked down at you, under obvious strain from his desire; his eyes had grown shadowy to the point of turning gray in the dim light of the room.

He ran his cockhead through your folds, grunting at the feeling of your slick mingling with the spit you had left coating his cock. He pushed his hips further, breaching your entrance with a groan.

Your hips moved on their own accord, rising to meet him, as you mewled.

“Ja, gut,” he moaned, “You need more—you need it all.” König kept his eyes glued on your cunt, watching his cock disappear into you.

He was growing impatient, sinking into you slowly had him gritting his teeth and breathing hard. You, too, felt restless at the pace; you could feel the stretch so viscerally, the pressure of his cock against your walls, the pain that faded into pleasure, and you craved more—you craved everything he had to give you. All of it.

“König,” you whined beneath him, squirming slightly, “Give it to me—I won’t break.”

“And if I want you to?” He queried, his voice low and wolfish.

You whimpered. It wasn’t often you felt vulnerable; guns strapped to your hip and a legion of other soldiers behind you. But now you felt exposed, prey waiting for the final act, and you relished in it.

“Do it.” You begged, waiting to see what he would do with the permission you gave him.

You didn’t have to wait long; König thrust his hips forward until they pressed against your own. He bottomed out with a whine, knocking the air from your lungs.

You cried out, full and stretched in such a foreign way. But you wrapped your legs around his hips as you writhed beneath him, locked in a battle with your pleasure.

“So tight,” he was panting, whimpering; six-foot-ten and easily 200 pounds heavier than you, and all it took for König to completely lose his edge was the feeling of your cunt wrapped so deliciously around him. “You—Scheiße, you are swollen with me.”

He traced a hand over your stomach, pressing against the bulge his cock produced, and you moaned at the sinful gesture.

He was just as overcome with lust, entranced by the image of your body squeezing around him, opening for him like a toy. He seemed so content to simply look and feel for a moment, but you grew impatient.

“König…” You pressed your heel against his back, trying to express your urgent need for him to move, to speak—to do anything that would let the pleasure spring free from the coil that had begun to tighten itself so harshly in your abdomen.

He swallowed, nodding in a manner that made it seem as though your words had brought him back down to earth. He pulled out of you slowly, hesitant to leave the warmth of your cunt, and you whimpered; you could feel every vein, and the round head of his cock dragged against your walls to further overstimulate your core. You bucked your hips, chasing the feeling.

“Oh, meine Liebling,” he shuddered, “Du willst es verdammt nochmal, eh?” He rumbled, drawing his hips back until the tip of his cock just barely penetrated you. “I will give it to you, Kleine.”

He pushed himself back into you just as harshly as he had the first time, and again you screamed for him, grabbing at his forearms and clawing at his skin in an attempt to ground yourself before the bliss became too much for you to handle.

“You want to break?” He muttered in your ear, his labored breaths fanning the side of your face, “Then you will break.”

“It—oh my god, König, please—” You pushed your head back against the pillows, angling your body closer to his to allow him free reign over you. “Fuck, it’s so much—so fucking—please.”

“Was willst du, Kleine?” He cooed, licking over of your collar bone, “You would like more?”

“M—more,” you managed, “Yes. More.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, groaning at your stammered pleas, and he was more than willing to deliver.

He straightened up, grabbing you by the hips and practically hauling your bottom half up like you were a ragdoll; you whined, loosening your legs around his waist as he was clearly able to support you on his own.

He fucked into you like a toy, like your body was for him and him alone to use in whatever manner pleased him, and you relished in the control he exhibited over you.

“Tiefer,” he grit his teeth as he forced himself into you roughly, “You are easy to use this way, schlampe—so beautiful. Take all of my cock, engel, be good for your Colonel.”

You couldn’t form a coherent thought, let alone a verbal reply. You stared up at him with lust-blown eyes, expressing your feelings through heady moans as he pushed the air from you.

You couldn’t help the way your hand meandered from its spot beside your head, leaving its home in the fabric of the pillow to trail down your body so that you could brush your fingers over your clit while König ravished you. You just needed that little push, the outer stimulation to match what he offered you, so that you could free-fall into satisfaction.

And perhaps he’d changed his mind about disallowing you to touch—he hadn’t disputed the way you’d grabbed at his arms when he’d sunk into you. Besides, he seemed too focused on your cunt to worry about any previous demands. Either way, there was only one sure-fire method to find out.

But König wasn’t pleased by the initiative you took. He dropped you, pressing one hand roughly against your hip bone to keep you still as his other hand flew to your wrist.

You yelped at the suddenness, but you’d be lying if you said it hadn’t been the reaction you’d wanted.

He stared, almost in shock, at your hand, your fingers still grazing your clit, before practically throwing your arm back to your side and leaning over you, looming.

“No hands,” he pressed his body against yours, engulfing you, “You have not listened, Kleine.” He thrust shallowly into you, not able to stop himself from appreciating the way you felt on his cock despite his urgency in chastising you.

“I thought—” you searched for an excuse, “Thought you wouldn’t mind.”

He chuckled lowly, glaring in a manner that seemed to border on tender.

“I think you are lying,” he accused, “I think you enjoy being treated like this. You are testing me, schlampe.”

You let out a shaky, needy breath in response to his assertion.

“I’m sorry, Colonel.” You mewled, moving to clasp your hands behind your head in an attempt to show him you had seen the error of your ways.

“I do not want your apology,” he grunted, his thrusts increasing in pace suddenly as he planted his hands on either side of you. “I want your pleasure.” He smiled down at you, leering at the way your face contorted in tandem with the way your body contorted to allow the intrusion of his cock. “I would like to feel it.”

He moved to rest on one forearm above you, his free arm snaking between your bodies to replace your hand with his own on your clit.

His fingers were so much bigger than yours, and he was somewhat clumsy as he rubbed circles over you. But the pressure was exquisite all the same, and he pulled new sounds from you that rose from your chest in appreciation of the friction he was granting you.

“Bitte,” he had once again begun speaking through whines, “Bitte, meine Liebe, let me feel how your cunt squeezes. Wet me with your cum—bitte.”

His broken requests, intercut with guttural grunts and whimpered groans, flooded you with heat. He pressed down on your clit right as he pushed his cock deep into you, lifting his hips upward to create an angle that allowed him to press against your most delicate spot.

You tried to stifle the sound that flew from your throat, and found yourself screaming silently into the room as you came.

“O—oh, bitte,” König’s hips stuttered against you, his head falling back as he reeled from the impact your orgasm had on him. “Ja, I—oh, bitte, bitte—”

He let himself fall forward, crushing you under his frame—though the weight of his body was comforting as you trembled through the aftershocks of your high. He pressed his face into the crook of your neck, moaning wantonly as he approached his own release.

“Engel, meine Kleine—perfektes Mädchen,” he was only partially coherent as he licked a stripe up your throat. “I—I will fill you, ja? Bitte, would you let me fill you this way?”

“Please, König,” you breathed, overjoyed by the promise of being able to feel his cum leak from your spent cunt. “Cum in me, I want it—I want it, Colonel, please.”

He growled, reaching his tipping point upon hearing your words, beautiful sounds of approval falling from your lips as you expressed your eagerness at the prospect of him finishing inside your perfect cunt.

He came with a loud moan, guttural and sourced from his chest; his hips stuttered erratically against you as he let your cunt milk him.

You whimpered beneath him, accepting the warmth of his spend as it painted your walls.

He stayed on top of you, both of you taking a moment to recalibrate and catch your breath. When your pulse settled, you took the chance and wrapped an arm around him, trailing your fingers in vague patterns over his shoulder blade.

“König,” you whispered, voice hoarse, “You’re a great Colonel, but you’re a fantastic lay.”

He rested his chin on your chest, staring up at you. He seemed to translate your words at a much slower speed than he normally would.

He shot you a smug look when it finally clicked.

“I am glad I meet your standards,” he sighed, pressing his cheek into your skin and letting the sweat that beaded over you cool his face. “Are you tired, maus?”

“Yeah.” You couldn’t have lied even if you wanted to; your muscles felt loose, and your body sunk into the suddenly cozy mattress.

“Sleep.” He shuffled down your body, maneuvering one of your legs over his shoulders and slotting his face between your thighs.

“What are you doing?” You smiled down at him, and he looked back at you with bright, eager eyes.

“I would like to clean the mess I made.” He replied in a tone that made it seem as though his plan should have been obvious to you.

You hummed, squeezing his head lightly with your thighs.

“Mm...so the mask is really just a muzzle, hm?” You mused.

“We will be here all night,” König smiled, nipping at your thigh as he reiterated his earlier words. “I want to enjoy you.”

☆Like my work? Buy me a ko-fi :)☆

#call of duty #call of duty fanfic #call of duty fic #call of duty smut #cod #cod smut #cod fanfic #colonel könig #konig #konig cod #konig call of duty #konig x reader #konig x you #konig fanfiction #konig smut

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imaginedisish · 6 months ago

Text

Need 2 (Logan Howlett x f!reader)

A/N: So...I'm back already lol. This sort of just came to me last night. I was rewatching the first and second X-Men movies and got a little inspired. This is also inspired by the song "Need 2" by Pinegrove. Didn't think I'd be posting another fic already, but here we are. Hopefully y'all enjoy!

Summary: You and Logan have always been plagued with nightmares, so avoiding sleep is just something you two have in common...until you find yourselves in each other's beds, helping one another through your nightmares.

Warnings: 18+! Smut! Minors DNI! PWP. Unprotected PIV (wrap it up), Fingering, AFAB!reader, fem!reader, Reader has some hair at the nape of her neck that can be played with (length, color and texture are not described!), mutant!reader, cursing, canon typical violence, angst, praise kink, feelings, nightmares, friends to lovers, probably some grammatical errors, I think that's all?

Word Count: 3,906

Some nights, it was easier not to sleep. It was easier to go down into the kitchen, the living room, or one of the many libraries in the mansion and stay awake. It was easier than forcing yourself to go to bed, just to wake up screaming thirty minutes later.

So tonight, like far too many nights, you’ve found yourself in your favorite corner in your favorite library in the mansion. You’re reading Simone de Beauvoir’s letters to Sartre when a familiar figure enters the room.

“What’re you doing awake?” Logan’s voice is gruff, his hands in the pockets of his jeans, his beater tight against his chest. “You should be asleep.”

“Can’t sleep,” You answer, placing a bookmark between the pages and shutting the book. You look up at the old grandfather clock on the other side of the room. 2:00 AM. “You should be sleeping too.” You smirk patting the free space next to you on the loveseat.

He shakes his head. “Too stuffy in here.”

You roll your eyes, placing the book down on the couch. “Then what’s your plan, big guy?”

He holds up his beer and points down the hall. “Gonna sit in front of the T.V. You can too,” he pauses tentatively, “if you want.”

“S-sure,” you stutter. Why are you stuttering? You spend time with Logan constantly. This isn’t new. This is normal. You feel your heart rate pick up. This is ridiculous. This is a totally regular night.

You stand and follow him down the hall and into another room, one with a lit fireplace and a television. You both sit down, leaving a generous amount of room between the two of you. Logan reaches for the remote and turns the T.V. on. He surfs through the channels before stopping on a movie you instantly recognize.

“Casablanca?” You ask, turning towards him, letting yourself move just a bit closer as you do so. You feel like he’s moved closer in too.

He nods, his eyes glued to the screen. “It’s a classic.”

You can’t help but smirk. “Never pinned you for the love story type.”

“You’d be surprised,” he says back as he turns towards you again. There’s a faint smile on his face. You swear his eyes flicker down to your lips for just a second before he turns to face the T.V. again.

A few minutes go by like this, the two of you just inches away from one another. You can’t concentrate on the movie with him this close. It’s impossible.

Despite the heat of the fire, you start to feel a chill. Goose bumps rise on your arms, and you pull your legs into your chest, your arms wrapping around your knees.

Logan immediately notices, shifting to grab the throw blanket from behind him. “Cold?” He asks, taking the opportunity to move closer towards you as he tosses the blanket over the two of you.

“Y-yeah, thanks,” you answer. But you’re still cold. You bring the blanket up so that it rests just under your chin. For such an old mansion, the A/C must work great. No wonder the fire was already lit when you and Logan got in here.

Logan notices again. He rests his arm against the back of the couch. “You could…” He trails off, nodding his head to offer the space right next to him, in his arms. “Come over here?” You nod back, scooching closer until your side presses into his.

He’s an absolute furnace. He pulls you into his chest, rubbing up and down your arm gently. He’s so warm. You instinctively curl into him, wanting nothing more than to be closer to him. For the first time in months, you feel comfortable enough—safe enough—to fall asleep.

“Better?” He asks, his lips brushing against your forehead.

You nod against his chest. “So much better.” You whisper. You can feel your eyelids growing heavy. You let them fall shut. Let yourself go. Give in. Finally.

“Lo?” You quietly call out. You’re so close to sleep that you don’t even realize you’re speaking.

You can feel his smile on the side of your head. “Yeah, sweetheart?”

“You feel so nice.” You’re mumbling, half asleep. It’s nonsense, but it’s true. “So safe.”

He presses a chaste kiss to your forehead. “You do too. Now get some sleep.”

You shake your head softly. “Only if you sleep, too.”

You think you feel another kiss. One of his hands reaches up to play with the hair at the nape of your neck. “I will, I promise.”

You drift off to sleep, waking up just once about an hour and a half later to see Logan still on the couch beside you. He’s asleep, still holding you to his chest. You don’t wake him. You let yourself fall asleep again.

You wake up a few hours later, this time in your own bed, the sun shining through your curtains. You notice a note next to your pillow.

Glad you got some sleep. -Logan

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You can hear him, his grunts, his screams. You jump out of bed and sprint down the hall. You don’t need a flashlight to find his room. You know the way by heart. You don’t even bother knocking. You burst in and shut the door behind you.

You run over to the side of his bed and start to softly shake him. “It’s just a dream, Lo,” you call out to him. He doesn’t wake up. He’s still grunting, still tossing and turning. You feel helpless. “Logan, it’s okay.” You speak a bit louder this time, putting more of your weight on his shoulders as you shake him. Nothing. No change.

“Logan, please wake up.” Louder again. And still nothing. “Fuck it.”

You climb onto the bed, maneuvering so that you can get on top of him. You’re straddling him now, which probably isn’t the world’s greatest idea. You shake his shoulders harder as he winces, his head thrashing against the mattress, his chest rapidly rising and falling.

“Come on, Lo, wake up.”

And then, he’s sitting up, claws out, the tips just nudging the base of your throat. “It’s me!” You shout. “It’s just me!” You can hear the shing of his claws retracting. You look down to see that the collar of your shirt is sliced.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry. Are you alright?” He’s wrapping his arms around your back, pulling you into his chest, scanning your body frantically for any injury. He’s moving up and down your skin like a wildfire, checking every possible surface that he could have pierced or sliced.

You try to stop him, but he refuses to listen. “You didn’t get me, Logan. I’m okay, really.”

He pushes you down onto the mattress, carefully turning you over onto your stomach before you can protest. “I’m just checking your back, okay?”

“You couldn’t have touched my back. That’s physically impossible.” You try to turn back over, but he keeps you down, one hand pinned between your shoulder blades as the other pulls up your shirt to search your skin. You suddenly remember you aren’t wearing a bra. You’re not wearing any shorts, either. Just your oversized pajama shirt and panties.

His fingers gently trace your skin before reaching up to pull the shirt back down. He finally lets you turn over. You push yourself up so that you’re sitting on your knees, just a few inches away from Logan. It’s your turn to reach out to him now. You bring up a tentative hand to his shoulder; he trembles under your touch but doesn’t push you away. You move a bit closer, your knee slotting into the space between his thighs. Your hand slides up his shoulder to his neck, and he finally leans into your palm.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” he whispers again. He moves closer, shifting his thighs further into your own. “I never, ever want to hurt you.” He brings his arms back around you, hesitantly pulling you into his chest. You let him, let him hold you. You know he needs to—needs to feel someone else. You wrap your arms around his body too.

“I know, Lo. It’s okay. No more apologizing.” You hold him tighter. “Are you okay?”

He hums as his face burrows into the crook of your neck. “Just a nightmare.” A part of you is surprised he’s letting you hold him and holding you back. “I fucked up your shirt.”

You let your head rest against his shoulder. “I know.”

“Almost fucking killed you.” He’s trembling again like he wants to push you away.

You hold him tighter. “You didn’t though,” You mumble against his bare skin. “Please don’t run away. Let me hold you, please.”

He relaxes again, pulling you in tighter in response. “Why do you care about me?”

You shake your head in disbelief. “Why do you care about me?” You ask back.

He scoffs. “Because I…” He trails off. You can tell he’s not giving you the whole truth. “I just do. You’re you. That’s all there is to it.”

“Exactly. And you’re you.” You can feel his lips ghost against your neck—not quite a kiss, but not quite nothing either. “So, I care about you too.”

“I don’t deserve it, the way you care about me.” His lips don’t move from that half-kiss position along your neck as he speaks. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t talk like that.” Your voice is suddenly stern, assertive. “You deserve so much, Logan. So much.” Before you can even think about what you’re doing, you press a kiss against his bare shoulder. And then another. And another.

“You should go back to bed.” His voice is low and hoarse. He finally presses a true kiss into your neck, too.

You shake your head. “No,” you whisper. “Let me stay with you.”

“But what if I—”

You cut him off. “Please.”

He doesn’t protest this time. He just guides you down to the pillows, keeping one arm tightly around your waist as the other brings the covers up and over the two of you.

You stay intertwined, your legs tangled up with his, your chests pressed tightly together. You bring your hands up to the nape of his neck, gently raking your nails through his hair. His lips find your neck again, kissing that spot just underneath your ear. It’s chaste, but there’s something else there. You know there is.

You can feel him relaxing, drifting off into sleep, and so you let yourself do the same. There’s nowhere you feel safer than with Logan.

When you wake up, you’re still in Logan’s bed, but his side is empty. Again, there’s a note on the pillow next to you.

Thank you. Hope this makes up for what I did. -Logan.

Underneath the note is his favorite Rolling Stones shirt.

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

You’re somewhere dark, sitting on a cold metal chair, your hands shackled in more cold metal. The air tastes like metal, too. And then it dawns on you: Magneto.

His figure appears in front of you, his hand extended out towards something...perhaps someone. Towards no one? No. There he is, floating in front of you. Logan. “NO!” You yell. You can feel your throat burn as you shout.

“Let him go!” You scream. But Magneto doesn’t budge. He holds Logan in the air, bending the metal in his body. He stretches Logan’s claws out. You remember when Logan told you it hurts every time he unleashes them. You can’t imagine the pain he’s in now.

“Logan!” You cry out. Your abilities don’t seem to work, no matter how hard you try. You’re powerless, helpless, useless. You echo his name repeatedly to no avail.

You’re forced to sit and watch as his claws bend backward. Tears run down your face as Logan screams in agony. There’s nothing you can do. You thrash in place.

“Let him fucking go!” You sob, tears rolling down your cheeks. “Logan! I’m so sorry. Oh fuck. I’m so sorry.” A familiar name calls for you in the distance, but you ignore it. “I’m so sorry,” you cry. “So fucking sorry.”

The voice shouts your name again. And again. Tears stain your cheeks.

“I’m so sorry,” you mumble.

“It’s just a dream, come on, wake up for me sweetheart.” You know that voice. “I’m right here, just wake up.”

Your eyes finally flutter open. There he is, in front of you, his solid frame heavy on top of you. “Lo?” You push yourself up to meet him.

“It’s me, darlin’, It’s me.”

You throw your arms around him, sobbing into his bare chest. “Fuck,” you mumble against him.

He wraps his arms tightly around your body, carefully bringing you back down to the bed. “It’s okay. It’s over now. I’m here.”

“How’d you know I was…” You trail off, swallowing harshly, not wanting to think about what you just dreamed of.

“You called my name. I came the second I heard you.” His voice is soft but shaky. It dawns on you that you scared him.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” Tears stream down your cheeks, your voice a trembling mess.

He presses a soft kiss against your shoulder, and then that usual spot in the crook of your neck. He somehow manages to pull you tighter into his chest. “Don’t be sorry darlin’, please. Nothing to be sorry for.”

“But I woke you,” you protest. “I scared you.”

“That’s fine, sweetheart.” His breath tickles the skin of your neck. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” He’s kissing you more fervently than normal. There’s something panicked about his movements, like he’s still worried that you might not be fine.

You take a deep breath. “Lo?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Can you stay with me?” You feel like a child, but you don’t care. You want to feel him. You need to be close to him. You can’t lose him. Not now. Not ever.

His legs tangle with yours. “I’m not going anywhere.” His voice is a whisper now.

You nod, pushing yourself further into him. “Need to feel you,” you say, running your hands along his back, his chest, his waist. You need him, every inch, every curve. All of him.

“Darlin’,” he mutters. “What do you mean?”

You break away from him for just a second. His brows are furrowed. “Need you, Lo.”

You watch his throat bob as he swallows. “You have me.”

“No Logan I-I—” You stutter. “I want you. Need you. I need you closer. Please.”

His eyes search yours, his hands finding their way under your shirt. His fingers climb higher, stopping just below your chest, where the hem of your bra would be.

You inhale deeply and press harder into him. “Please, Lo. Please.”

“Sweetheart, is this really what you want?” You can feel his breath against your lips. He’s so close, but not close enough. “That dream…” He pauses. “If this is only because of the dream…”

You shut your eyes, remembering what you saw. You feel a tear slide down your still-wet cheek. You breathe deeply. “Wanted you before the dream,” you murmur nervously.

“Darlin’, you gotta be careful saying things like that.” He presses his forehead against yours and closes his eyes. Your noses touch gently. He slots his legs higher between yours and pulls you closer.

“Why?” You ask.

“Because I’ve never wanted someone the way I want you.” His hands become less hesitant, his fingers tracing the underside of your chest, slowly charting a course to your nipples.

He opens his eyes, searching your face for consent, and you immediately nod. “I’m yours. Been yours the whole time.”

That’s all the permission he needs to bring his lips to yours, to hungrily swallow everything you’re willing to give him. His fingers gently pinch your nipples before drawing lazy circles around them. Your breath catches in your throat as his tongue slips across your lower lip. You open up and let him inside, savoring the taste of him.

You’re still side by side, tangled up with one another, but it’s not close enough. You need more.

“Logan,” you call, leaving one hand on his bare back as you let the other trail down his chest, to the hem of his sweats. But before you can get any further, he grabs your hand, freezing you in place.

He shakes his head against yours. “Wanna take care of you.”

“But I wanna take care of you, too,” you whine.

He just smiles. “You always do, sweetheart. Let me make you feel good.” He drops your hand, and one of his own trails down your body, down to the ridden-up hem of your shirt—his shirt, actually—the one he left on the pillow. “Looks better on you than it ever did on me.” He pulls it up, revealing your stomach and tits. One of his hands continues to massage your breasts, playing with your nipples, while the other travels back down to the hem of your panties. His fingers slip inside, sliding down through your folds and back up to your clit. You shudder under his touch.

He starts to draw slow, lazy circles there. You can’t help but grind into his hand, needy for more. You whisper his name as his touch becomes harder, faster.

“So fucking wet for me. Soaking already.” The whimper rising in your throat at his words is swallowed by another deep, desperate kiss.

You hang onto him, your arms around his back as he pulls you closer to the edge. He can tell you need the contact, the closeness, and so he pulls away from your tits, his now-free hand slipping underneath you and snaking around your waist, holding you closer than before. Your chest is flush with his as his fingers rub harder at your clit.

You can feel yourself coming undone, your hips rocking against him uncontrollably. “I’m so close,” you pant.

“I know pretty girl,” he murmurs. He breaks away from your face, finding that spot in the crook of your neck that he loves so much. You throw your head back as his lips find purchase in the same area as always. “Doing so good for me. Wanna feel you come on my fingers.”

His whispers in your ear, his little bites and kisses against that spot on your neck, his fingers on your clit, it’s all too much. “Lo,” you whine, shutting your eyes and pressing your face into his shoulder.

“That’s it, darlin’, let go.”

That’s all it takes to have you seeing stars. You grind down onto his fingers, your hips still canting back and forth as you come undone. You can feel Logan smile against your neck as he slows down his pace. After a moment or two, his hand slips out of your panties and comes up to rest on your hip.

You bring your forehead back to his. “You alright, sweetheart?” His low, husky whisper fills the air.

“Mhm,” you hum. “Still want you, Lo.”

“Are you sure?” He asks, his thumb brushing gently across your hip.

You nod. “Need you closer.”

“Fuck,” he groans. His thumb hooks under the hem of your panties and he pulls them down your legs. You slip them off the rest of the way as Logan turns you on your back. You watch him above you, thumbs hooked inside his sweats. He pulls them down quickly, his cock springing up to his stomach in the process. Your eyes widen as you take in just how big he is.

He pushes his sweats down the rest of the way, and he slots himself in between your legs. You can feel the length of him on the inside of your thigh. “Wanted you for so long, pretty girl,” he grunts. His forearm rests next to your head, caging you in and keeping him steady, while his other hand guides his cock through your folds, teasing your entrance.

“Logan,” you whine, your hands reaching up to his neck, pulling his face down to meet you. “I’m yours.”

You gasp as he fills you up, his hand immediately reaching between your bodies to find your still-sensitive clit. His pace is slow at first, letting you adjust to his length, rocking into you gently. His thumb flicks your clit before drawing those same lazy circles from before. You’re already close, still drunk off the first orgasm he pulled from you.

“So fucking tight,” he moans. “Doing so good for me.” You can feel him building speed, pumping in and out of you. He feels so good, rubbing against your walls, stretching you out. He’s so close, so real, so safe.

“Needed you so bad,” you whimper, spreading your legs wider, inviting him in.

You can feel him throb inside you at your words. “Needed you too.” The sound of his voice pushes you closer to the edge, your walls fluttering around his cock. His circles on your clit are no longer gentle or slow. He thrusts faster, rutting into you hit after hit.

“L-Lo,” you stutter, shaking underneath him. “I-I’m so clo…” But you can’t finish your sentence. Your eyes flutter open and shut.

“I’m here,” he whispers. “I’ve got you. Never gonna let you go.”

You take in a sharp breath. “’M’yours,” is all you can manage to say.

“Mine,” he breathes, his hips rocking into you again and again. “Can feel you squeezing me, beautiful.”

“S-so close,” you choke in between thrusts. His fingers work harder on your clit, his lips moving against yours like they belong there, always.

“Then let go, darlin’,” he says against your lips. He pushes deeper into you than before, your walls clamping down onto him. You feel heat rise to your chest as you shatter around him. You echo his name over and over again as you ride out your orgasm. You know he’s close behind, his thrusts faltering, growing sloppier with each pump.

“W-where do you want—”

“Inside.”

“F-fuck,” he’s a choking, moaning mess as he comes undone inside you. You can feel him paint your walls, filling you up. He pumps in and out of you a few more times before he starts to slip out.

“W-wait,” you stutter, grabbing him, holding him in place.

He freezes. “You okay?” Concern is painted across his face, his brows furrowed, trying to discern what’s wrong.

“J-just don’t want you to go,” you murmur.

He smiles as he slides out of you. He pulls you tightly into his chest. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You shut your eyes as his hands settle on your lower back. “Don’t leave, okay?”

“I promise,” he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Relax. I’ve got you. I’m here.”

You can’t fight your exhaustion anymore, so you do as he says. You fall asleep to the sound of his steady breathing, to his kisses on your forehead, to the tracing of letters and shapes along your back.

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

The next morning, as pale light trickles through the curtains of your room, you see there’s no letter. No empty space next to you in the bed.

There’s just Logan, his arms still wrapped around you, holding you tight against his chest. Your eyes flutter open. His are still closed. But he can tell you’re awake.

“’M’not going anywhere,” he mumbles, still half asleep. “Too early. Go back to bed.”

He’s right. So, you do.

tags: @seamlessepiphany

#Logan Howlett x reader #James Logan Howlett x reader #Wolverine x reader #Logan Howlett smut #James Logan Howlett smut #Wolverine smut #Logan Howlett x you #James Logan Howlett x you #Wolverine x you #Logan Howlett x reader smut #James Logan Howlett x reader smut #Wolverine x reader smut #Logan Howlett x you smut #James Logan Howlett x you smut #Wolverine x you smut #Logan Howlett oneshot #Logan Howlett fanfiction

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raghadayyad · 2 months ago

Text

Winter was one of my favorite seasons. I loved watching the rain fall and walking in the rain. I loved sitting with my family in front of the fireplace watching TV, eating hot and delicious food, and drinking a hot drink.

Unfortunately, all of this is no longer available. Winter has become one of the worst seasons we have ever experienced. There is no warm place, no fireplace, no delicious food, and no hot drink.

The rain has become like another war we face, in addition to the bombing and death that haunts us even in the tents.

My life is completely destroyed, every time I try to get up and start over I fall again because of the difficulty of what we are living, we are drowning in tents, dying of hunger and cold, in addition to the continuous bombing that does not stop, even if we survive the bombing we will not survive the hunger and cold that we live in the tent.

Since I created the campaign, the campaign has been almost stagnant, moving very slowly. Help me reach my goal faster. I want to ensure that my family and I have a safe and good life after all the horror and loss we have been through, so please share the campaign widely and donate and do everything you can to support me.

At least give me a chance to complete my education so that I can save my future if I survive death.

Despite the unbearable suffering we're daily going through, I still believe in humanity. please keep us in your prayers and help us anyway you can. Donate if you're able to,reblog and share our story as widely as you can. I'm grateful to each and every one of you

Vatted by :

@bilal-salah0

@funds4gaza

Can you imagine that any contribution means life to us?

@girlinafairytale @dlxxv-vetted-donations @irangp @dayvan @tamamita

@levlies889 @stoliczki @tsotc @spoiledlbleach @90-ghost @tortuah @skipppppy @calmao666 @thebraincellbehindthecouch @fantasynovel @xinakwans @castlevaniaobssessed @st4rgayz1ng @scientistkisser @samus-arans-sweaty-pits-n-balls @constellationneb @poolboyservice @juplune @fifty-ten @artistwalkswithcolor @kurtmustdie @lulu-chaos-incarnation @kujokomi @homosexualborat @unoplumo @sentimentaldisorder @variouscontent @ignoranceishibiscus @survivalmotif @wiseyouthcat @denn1s-lessing @beetlebomb01 @glittertimes @camilleflyingrotten @frigidwife @thedigitalbard @turian @transgenderteensurvivalguide @turtletoria @2spirit-0spoons @hussyknee @jinnazah @lesbianmaxevans

#free gaza #free palestine #90 ghost #el shab hussein #gaza genocide #nabulsi #palestine #fairuzfan #from the river to the sea palestine will be free #gaza strip #support #donations

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yourcutelittlegayfriend · 1 month ago

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✧✦✧ Chapter 4 ✧✦✧

Oh Love, Why can't I See You?

Yandere Platonic Bat Family x Neglected Regressing GN Reader

Warning this part contains: Blood, Biting, Fighting&Yelling, Batman beating the shit out of people and Joker, almost drowning, usage of Lazarus pit and Mental breakdown.

Notes: Bruce's POV HA! I hope I did him justice and not too OOC, I notice a lack of actual Yandere themes on this fic from the family so I started with the patriach first because why not?

MASTERLIST Pages ↻3 , 5...➣

Now Playing ↻◁ ||▷↺ Underground - Cody Fry ılıılıılılılıılıılı

𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪

It's weird

I see her face again, but not on her; I see it on her child's face. If I met her when she was young, their chubby and plump cheeks would look like hers, and their small stature would be strong and fierce, just like hers, if I remember correctly.

and yet why-?

Why do I see myself in her eyes? tired and exhausted, burnt out even? feeling like the world has already killed you from the inside and only your body can be seen by people who would never look past your walls?

Why do you look so much like me?

I stare at them as they tense up behind Alfred's legs after they told me their name, they were scared yes but I could see their anger behind those eyes, hatred and hateful like the boiling pits of lava, Scalding to touch by anyone and ready to erupt any day something that I couldn't stop if it were to happen.

As I watch them walk away from me and hide, I turn to Alfred and talk to him about last night. Unconsciously, something in my mind is already forgetting about them.

I haven't even known you that long, yet I'm already guilty of choosing a whole city over you.

𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪

It was a rough and tough night in Gotham, I was new and the evil I've been fighting has been longer than me.

Groaning I limp out of my office and head to my father's medical room when I stumble and crash on the floor, wincing I hold my side from the gunshot in one of the fights tonight, Eyes turning blurry as the air in my lungs get scarce as well as my body who beg for a rest, I can only hear my heartbeat and rushing of my blood on my ears as I lay on the carpet floor bleeding heavily until-

A tiny pair of footsteps reverberate on the floor, thudding slowly until they stop and shuffle in front of me, opening my eyes and look up to see the child looking down at me, they tilt their tiny head before turning on the side as they open their mouth like they're talking to somebody.

"...........do I-?.......... won't matter-...............never remember anyway". Their voice were all over the place as they conversed alone then their eyes turned back to me, they stared deeply through my soul, Judging me and criticizing me with just one look, Something a child shouldn't have, and yet this one was more mature, Like me- funny how they look like an exact replica of when I was just a boy, Who would have thought that there's another kid like me laying around, having the exact pain and trauma I've endured.

I feel my body get dragged on the floor as I hear their grunts and pants from pulling my cape turning, I see their face, even with frustration written on them I can still see a sliver of a child peeking through behind their cold and quiet front betrayed by their tiny pout and small huffs, never notice that before- why did I never try to notice you before?

Blinking back from the darkness, I suddenly found myself staring up at the ceiling with the familiar warm lighting from my father's old fireplace illuminating the design carved on it- Mother loved it and Father wanted her to feel welcome when she stayed on the couches reading books with me as we wait for him to finish his paperwork.

I grunt in pain when I felt something touch my side, Looking down a pair of small hands was wrapping my abdomen with a roll of gauze, They stop and look up at me, A look of indifference on their face before looking back down again and continued on before cutting the wrap and finished.

"....You.....when did you-". I tried to talk but they just looked at me making me quiet.

"..... It's best if you just stayed quiet and rest Mr. Wayne... You won't be of use when you're....." Their eyes traveled on my wounds and shots that were perfectly clean and wrapped before continuing.

".....Dead". They hummed making me tense from their choice of words before walking away as I watched them clean up the medical tray and any bloody equipment and put away saline solutions and gauze back.

My brows frowned when their words came back into my head, I touched my face not feeling the familiar texture of the cowl on my face making my eyes slightly widen and I stared at the back of their head.

-Why do I feel less scared on the thought of you knowing my identity was revealed?.

Why do I feel hurt when you won't call me Fa-.

Hearing a clutter I turn and see them adding more wood to the fireplace and poking the embers with a fire poker before putting it away and turning to me.

Both of us stare at each other, the fire behind them grows larger as their shadow grew and cast over me while their eyes seem to glow and light up with a roaring fire, a child too small and vulnerable to face the world and the evil within this city and yet they looked more than ready to burn this city to the ground and eradicate the devil's weed growing on the cracks of broken concretes of the people, something Batman has yet to do, something I can never do.

"Goodnight, Mr. Wayne". They said before walking out and closing the door behind them with a soft thud.

I look at the wooden fixture and become surprised when I see my good arm thoughtlessly reaching out for them.

𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪

A few more months have passed since they started living here and I find myself paying attention or moving my sights over them more and more, how they walk so silently that you can't even hear it until you finally spot them when they practically stand out in the open, They even blend perfectly anywhere like they don't want people to see or even look at them and how their voice is always on that same lower volume where you can hear them perfectly but thought it was just the wind whispering something.

But I do, I always knew, it was like seeing gold shining around their form, and anything they did it's like everything was duller except them, I even took note of little things like the twitch on their lips when something annoyed them or a raise of their brow when they're interested.

So why do you look so angry when I just want to give you attention?

"No I don't want a debut, Mr. Wayne". They replied with a glare as they sat on the other side of the table barely eating the dinner Alfred made when I asked them to join me.

I was baffled and slightly vexed at their choice and the way they didn't even take the time to think about it, or maybe it's because you still kept looking at me with that-.

"No? What do you mean no? It's only right for you as a Wayne to debut especially for your birth-". I insisted but they cut me off by slamming their hands on the hardwood surface of the table, The dishes jumped, and the pitcher of water almost tipped over from the force while my glass of wine tumbled on the side and spilled the contents.

"I said No! I don't want anything, especially from you-!". They send me a hateful look pointing a finger at me.

"And don't you ever use my birthday on anything!". They shouted before pushing back their chair and walking away, Everything was moving so fast, I could hear my heartbeat pumping harder as my breathing became heavier and faster before I knew it I was already out of my chair as my hand was just reaching for them then gripped their arm tightly.

"Where do you think you're going? This conversation isn't over". I snap as I tug them harder, They look at me in surprise as I saw fear peeking in their irises before hiding it back and hardening their eyes as they pry off my fingers from their arm.

"Yes, it is! Now let go!". They cried as the two of us continued tugging before I let go when I felt sharp pain erupt from my hand I looked and saw a bleeding bite mark on the side of my palm.

Looking up in shock, they stood there holding their arm back as a trickle of my blood dripped down their lips while they bore their teeth at me like what a scared animal would do.

"I'm sorry-". I tried to reach out for them but they only backed away until Alfred came -probably from the ruckus we made- who escorted them away before focusing on my hand.

As Alfred was cleaning my hand I kept looking at the direction they left as I listened to him chastise me on how I approached the situation.

"I only wanted to give them what any child would have wanted Alfred". I reasoned with him but I knew deep inside I already said the wrong answer.

"You are correct to some extent sir and I understand you have good intentions, Master Bruce, They may be a child but a different one, Their only world is gone not too long ago and not only that but their Mother died on their own birthday as well". Alfred confessed the reason behind their actions making my blood turn cold from the truth.

"-You, yourself must understand what it must feel like to have everything gone in just a flash". He said before tying up the gauze and backing away from me.

"Give them time and if you are still persistent about the event then let me have a discussion with them first and let the child have a say or even a few choices on the matter". He added as he started to fix up the mess while he left me thinking.

𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪

After Alfred had a chance to consult with them, from what he relayed is that they agreed as long as they have the choice to leave whenever they wanted and no fancy stuff that exceed on what most normal people's party should be. By taking any wins that I could get, I personally planned everything that where only proper to call a normal party making sure it's not too extravagant, an event of finally viewing them as a Wayne, to show everyone that they are my child.

How did everything go so wrong so fast?

Joker and his newly formed goons who escaped Arkham Asylum after I foiled his plans months before crashed and destroyed the party and took them away.

"So sorry for being fashionably late Mr. Wayne! I was a little heartbroken when you decided to invite all of Gotham except lil' o me SO! I've decided why not both of me and this little ball of joy have the same debut! I'm sure Batsy won't mind right?" They cackle before driving off to who knows where while I stress as the people run like ants in the rain.

I was quick, I knew I was, searching for them like hell and made sure no stone or concrete was unturned in the city even if my hands were covered by the blood of his goons or other criminals that tried to get in my way but-

When I saw them falling down that green boiling pits I knew I should have arrived sooner, I should have never let them go in the first place, I should have hidden you instead.

I yelled out for them like a desperate man till my throat was raw as their hands -just inches- slipped pass mine, their body plummeting down the liquid as they tried their best to reach out the surface and stay afloat, I pounded my wrist on the metal catwalk that I dropped onto before rushing down and rounded the clown till he was down on the floor wheezing and bloodied, his face more purple and black than his pale white ashy skin.

I knelt down in anguish gripping the rocky shore of the green glowing pool when I heard a splash, looking up to see them crying out in pain and screeching like a bat out from hell making my heartbeat stop and started to pump again as adrenaline shot through my muscles as I quickly fished them out, they cried and cried in my arms while screaming out as their body spasm and muscles twitch as green veins cracked their skin.

Shushing their cries as I hold them close and tightly, tears slowly dropped from my eyes, running down the mask till they landed on their face as they whined from fatigue yet their head looked up as our eyes met, I pulled them near my chest as I lay their head on my shoulder as I try to whisper sweet nothings into their ear, hands trembling as I dig on anything my hand could touch, my voice wavering but not my promises to protect them, to give them what they want, to love them and to stay with them forever.

"Everything is alright now, you'll be alright, Father's right here I'm not going anywhere." I whispered as I kissed the top of their head and swaying them back and forth trying to lull them to sleep.

"I see you now, I'm right here and I won't let you out of my arms ever again"

𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪

Hope this ain't too shitty hahaha inspired when silco tried to save jinx with shimmer kept dreaming about it last night.

#No More Chances #yandere batfam #batfam x reader #x reader #yandere batfam x reader #yandere #yandere platonic batman #yandere platonic batman x reader #yandere platonic Bruce Wayne x reader #yandere bruce wayne #yandere bruce wayne x reader

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pelova4president · 14 days ago

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My treat II

sugarmommies!Ingrid x Frido x sugarbaby!Reader

My treat I

summary~ The two footballers invite you into their home and offer you a proposal. You take their proposal with both hands.

!warnings! 18+ making out, fingering, oral sex, a lot of hickeys and dirty talk. not proof read.

You stood infront of their front door. It was chilly. Too chilly to be wearing the dress you were. The short navy dress didn’t cover the goosebumps appearing on your thighs and arms. You looked ahead of you, their house was huge.

Their house was abstract and modern. Classy, like the women.

Just as you wanted to make your arrival known the door opened. Ingrid stood there before you. She had a loose burgundy dress on that showed her figure perfectly. You were mesmerised by her presence.

“Would you like to come in, or do you want to keep staring out in the cold?” Ingrid grinned.

She held the door open as you stepped inside. The footballer took your jacket out of your hands and led you to their living room. “Frido will be here in a sec, make yourself at home.” She kissed your cheek before disappearing.

You looked around the room. It was spacious and modern, like the outside. But the inside had a little more character, it was warmer. Plants and lights adorned the space. There hung a large painting of a woman above their fireplace. The painting was red, passionate and vulgar, it was bold. It was the total opposite of you. But somehow you felt attracted to the art.

Hands made their way to your hips as a head was placed in the crook of your neck. “Do you like it?” she asked, that’s definitely Frido.

“hm, it’s really beautiful.” you said softly. The blonde hummed, pleased with your answer.

“You look beautiful.” she whispered, you could feel the vibrations of her words on your skin. you had to suppress your smile at that.

“Getting started without me Rolfö?” Ingrid walked into the warm room.

Fridolina took her head off your shoulder and turned but she didn’t take her hands off of you. “I wouldn’t dare.” she replied, a large grin sporting her face

Ingrid hummed at that and offered you a drink. They turned on a soft song that could be heard in every corner of the house. “You’ve got a really gorgeous house.” you complimented them.

“Thank you love, Frido designed it.” Ingrid winked as she handed you your drink.

“What can i say, i have good taste.” Fridolina said confidently, with that same smirk on her face.

You were contemplating on asking the women a question you’ve been wanting to know since you met them. And you don’t know what kind of confidence spurt entered your body but the question rolled from your tongue before you could stop it. “So what are you guys? Girlfriends? And what do you even want from me?”

Okay in your head it sounded a little less mean. ‘What do you even want from me’? why would you say it like that.

“Oh she’s got an attitude.” Frido laughed.

Ingrid didn’t think it was that funny. “I get that you’re curious but you can ask that politely.”

There was a silence that followed, even the music in the background couldn’t save you from this. Redness overtook your face. She expected you to ask her again, politely. “Why are you interested in me?” you asked embarrassed.

“Good girl, thank you. Fridolina and i are partners, yes. And although we love each other, we miss something.” Ingrid spoke.

“And that’s why we are interested in you. You’re sweet, pretty, shy and may i even say submissive. You are what we are missing, a pretty girl to go home to after a hard game.” Frido continued.

Ingrid nodded “Frido and i are both pretty dominant, we both want to take charge of a pretty girl like you. You’re a student, you need money and we can offer you that in exchange for your time.”

You looked at the dark haired woman infront of you, she was casually sipping on her glass of wine like she hadn’t just dropped a bomb on you. “Uh.. so you want me to sleep with you in exchange for money?” you asked them.

“No, not only sex darling. We would like to take you out on dates, vacations and other outings. This would be more than only a sexual relationship.” Frido said as she walked behind you.

She turned your kitchen stool and titled your head upwards. “Would you like a little sneak peak of whats to come, hm?” the only thing you could do was nod.

“Say it.” Frido demanded.

“Yes please.” you told her. She attacked your lips. She was more fiery this time. She was hungry. Her lips were rough on your neck as she traveled lower.

Ingrid walked around the kitchen island and made her presence known by taking your head into her hands. She pressed her lips to yours. Her lips were soft on yours. She tasted sweet, like the perfume she wore.

“Hmm, you like how rough Frido is, love?” you groan at Ingrid’s words.

Your eyes were shut, enjoying the feeling of lips on your neck. Dark red patches or dominance were left along your collarbone.

And then you felt nothing but the soft sting of those patches. You opened your eyes to see a literal breath taking sight infront of you. It was as if the women took the air out of the room. Ingrid and Frido were making out infront of you.

You could hear Ingrid moan as her girlfriend bit on her lip. Ingrid’s hands tangled themselves in blonde hair. It was a sight for sore eyes.

Although you loved watching the women, you felt a bit left out. The desperate whine that left your mouth caused the women to break the kiss.

"Hmm, you're not very patient, are you?" Frido teased you. Ingrid's pupils were blown, she wanted you just as much as you wanted them.

"It's unfair, you keep teasing me." you groaned at the women.

Even Ingrid had to surpress her laughter at that. They had been teasing you all night, waiting on a reaction. They wanted to have you begging for them at the end of the night. "Tell us what you want and maybe we'll give it to you, hm?" Ingrid smirked.

"I want you both." you told them with begging eyes. But by looking at their faces you knew they wanted to hear more. "... please?"

"Hm, do you think she deserves it?" Frido asked her girlfriend. They acted like you weren't right infront of them and you were eating it up.

"As much as i like to see her desparate and begging, i need more of her." Ingrid looked right into your eyes as she said the last part.

The footballer led you to the large sofa where she pushed you down. Her lips attacked yours and her hands fled to push the top of your dress down. Her warm kisses traveled to your neck and shoulders. "God, i've wanted you since i saw you at that interview." she whispered.

Rolfö took your head in her hands, kissing you hard and long. "You're fucking perfect." she said against your lips.

You were beyond hot and bothered, you were desparate for more. "Please, need more." you whispered against Frido.

Ingrid's mouth latched onto your nipple, her mouth was soft and warm. She hiked the hem of your dress up, her knee sliding in between your legs and pressing up against your clothed pussy.

The blonde kissed along your jaw up to your hot and red ears. As Frido bit in your sensitive ear, Ingrid's fingers pressed down on your clit. It was as if they were in sync.

Ingrid couldn't tease you much longer, she had to have you. They could play this teasing game another time. Her hand dipped into your lace panties. Her fingers were welcomed by wetness. You were soaked.

"God, Frido you have to see this. Did you get this turned on by our teasing, love?" Ingrid held up her fingers, sticky with your juices. The woman moved her fingers towards her girlfriend's mouth and without saying anything Frido took her fingers into her mouth.

The image of Frido, hair messed up by your needy hands, lips red and swollen, tasting you off of her lover's fingers. You moaned as Ingrid moved her hand back to your pussy and started making out with Frido.

A finger entered you and your head fell back. long fingers found a home in your hair and lips returned to your ear. "Let Ingrid make you feel good, darling." her words were hot and her tone heavy. They made you go insane.

When Ingrid slid another finger in and her mouth worked on your clit you couldn't hold your sounds in anymore. "Let us hear you. You sound so fucking hot." Frido said.

You could only nod, not a singular word made it past your lips. "Yeah, you like being fucked dumb by us. You like being used. I promise that this is only the beginning." Frido grabbed your tits, pinching your buds hard. Your back arched off the couch as Ingrid's fingers sped up.

"Yes, just like that. Fuck yourself on her fingers. God, you're perfect." Frido praised you. Ingrid didn't have to do much more to make you cum.

"Fuck. fuck- i'm gonna cum." you moaned out. Your eyebrows were knitted together als the knot in your stomach got tighter. Ingrid sucked harder and you the knot came undone.

Her fingers slowed down as you came down from your high. Ingrid left kisses on the inside of your thighs. "You were so good for us, baby. You did so so good." she placed a soft kiss to your lips.

"We're gonna get you cleaned up, is that okay love?" Frido asked softly, still pampering you with kisses. You felt like you were on cloud nine with these beautiful women caring for you.

You hummed and Frido went to fill their bathtub up. You laid in Ingrid's arms as she praised you.

When Frido came back down she carried you to their bathroom. She washed you with care and sung lullabies as she massaged your scalp.

Ingrid had placed a cup of tea on one of their nightstands and some clean panties and a camisole. Their bed was warm as you crawled into it. The Swede put her arms around you and fell fast asleep.

Her breath evened out as you look up at Ingrid. She has her reading glasses on, the yellow light glowing on her smooth skin. Her brows were furrowed until she looked up from her book and at you. She had caught you staring, again. The corners of her mouth went up. "Get some rest, you're gonna need it, love." she winked.

Although this was new, fiery and wild. Something about it felt fitting. Frido and Ingrid were like the painting, passionate, confident and bold. You felt attracted to them. Maybe they were exactly what you needed.

A.N. I really love the messages in my inbox so thank you for the support. I don't know how i'm gonna continue this and what i'll write about next. But we'll see, if the right idea comes i'll probably write another part.

#fridolina rolfö #ingrid engen #ingrid engen x fridolina rolfo x reader #ingrid engen x reader #fridolina rolfo x reader #woso smut #woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso community #woso imagine #fc barcelona femeni #barca femeni

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princesschimchim1325 · 9 months ago

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Sing for us, darling~

Dan Feng and Yingxing want to hear the noises their wife makes as they pleasure her, to let it be known to the whole Xianzhou Luofu that she belongs to them.

(Or you get sandwiched between your horny husbands)

Warnings: 3rd POV, fem & afab reader, reader is an adult, reader got bomb pussy game, overstimulation, groping, double penetration in the same hole, creampie, vaginal fingering, Dan Feng has two cocks and a voyeur kink, Yingxing is 41 (reader wants to fuck those old men so bad), Dan Feng is a menace, Yingxing is a charming old man, they are both possessive and horny as hell, a surprise at the end. (Fūrén - wife, bǎobèi - treasure)

Word count : 1,904 words

This can be read in the same universe as my dragoness reader idea but can be read as a standalone.

This could also be read in the same universe as my mutual's @philistiniphagottini's "god-ish" smut fic.

Likes, Comments & Reblogs are welcome!

DO NOT REPOST, OR FEED TO AI 🚫🚫🚫

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

Under the pale moon, the wind made the trees rustle and flowers sway. The cold breeze would make any passerby shiver, enough to make their teeth chatter. Everyone had worn thicker coats and lit up their fireplaces to stay warm.

Everyone except for the lovers in the High Elder's residence. Said High Elder was lounging on an armchair, his face propped up by his fist and an ankle atop his knee, an air of haughtiness befitting of man his caliber and position. Dan Feng was facing the master’s bed, calculating ocean green eyes swept over the attractive forms of his spouses.

His husband, Yingxing, was sitting on the edge of the large bed, completely bare. His long silver hair lay loose and flowing behind his muscled back. Sitting on his lap, was a jewel far more precious than any stone found in the Luofu, their beloved wife.

And what a sight she was.

Her back was pressed against Yingxing’s broad chest, her front facing Dan Feng. Her lovely face was scrunched in frustration, sighing as Yingxing kissed and lavished her shoulders with love bites and hickeys, his large and calloused hands groped her breasts. And what was one of the most erotic sights he has ever seen in his centuries of living, her greedy pussy swallowing Yingxing’s length and if he looked hard enough, he could see a bulge on her stomach as Yingxing stuffed her full.

Their shared bedchamber was filled with the loud wet sounds of Yingxing open mouthed kisses and their wife’s lovely moans, or as he and Yingxing liked to call them, song. His own hard cocks were pressing painfully against his trousers but he paid it no mind. The erotic sight in front of him was far more important.

“Enjoying the show, A-Feng?” His Yingxing inquired, a smirk on his handsome face. His large hands slid from her breasts, trailing down until they slipped under her thighs, only to suddenly spread them wider, jostling the woman on his lap and causing her to throw her head back and sobbed.

“Indeed. Dare I say, your little ‘show’ is the most enjoyable production I ever had the pleasure of witnessing.”

He rose from his seat as he answered, taking off his white blazer as he did. Perhaps their little game went on long enough, they started at nightfall and now the moon was already high in the sky. Their poor wife must be so pent up, being cockwarmed and teased by Yingxing, but being told she wasn’t allowed to cum.

As he neared his two beloveds, their wife gazed at him with glassy eyes, cheeks wet from tears of frustration. She shakily reached out to him with her left hand and he caught her midway, holding her smaller hand and leaning down to place a kiss on her palm.

“A-Feng…A-Xing has been so mean to me..” she whined as Dan Feng kissed her neck, trailing up to her ear, just below her earlobe.

“Hmm, is that so?” He hummed, smirking as she yelped when he bit down on a particularly sensitive patch of skin and licked it as a form of apology.

“Oh, fūrén, this was our dearest High Elder’s idea. I am merely doing my part in his script~” Yingxing laughed, placing an unapologetic kiss on her hair.

The High Elder pulled away to take his long gloves and the rest of his imperial garbs off, piece by piece revealing a lean yet powerful build, with broad shoulders, narrow waist and hips.

“...You scoundrels. How could you be so mean to your wife?” she complained, writhing on top of the Furnace master’s lap, unconsciously tightening in the process and causing the man to groan.

“Desperate now, are we?” Yingxing hissed, hands gripping her thighs in a bruising hold to stop her from squirming.

Dan Feng, finally bare, had taken his place between his wife’s spread legs and replaced Yingxing’s hands gripping her thighs with his own. His cocks standing proudly against his toned stomach.

Yingxing’s left hand returned to groping her breast and tweaking her hardened nipple with his fingers, while his right hand trailed up to her smooth neck, caressing it before gently gripping her throat.

Dan Feng rubbed both of his cocks against her puffy clit, using her and Yingxing’s combined wetness as lube before taking one of his hardness and lining it up her hole that was still stretched around Yingxing’s cock.

Slowly, he filled her up, one cock rubbing against Yingxing’s and her spongy walls, his other cock was sliding between her puffy folds and clit. Dan Feng pulled his husband into a searing kiss over their wife’s shoulder, making a show of their tongues dancing. He could feel her tighten up at the sight of their display.

Inch by inch, he slid into her wet heat, until he pressed up against her cervix alongside Yingxing. He pulled away from his husband only to kiss his wife next, equally as passionate.

Their beloved wife was panting when he pulled away, a thin strand of saliva connecting their lips before it snapped.

A few moments of silence before sounds of debauchery filled their shared bedroom. Each sensual roll of their hips had their darling wife keening, throwing her head back and bumping against Yingxing’s collarbone, tears of pleasure streaming down her lovely face.

“Mmmph! A-Xing, ah! A-Feng! Too deep! Please, too deep!” She sobbed. How cute, yet she clung to them like they’re her lifelines.

Their hips moved in sync, when one thrusts in, one pulls out and vice versa, making sure their wife is in the precipice of pleasure and overstimulation. Their cocks were alternating in slamming against her cervix, causing her to moan even louder.

In her desperation to keep herself grounded, her hands found themselves digging into different parts of her husbands. One hand reached behind her to grasp and pull at Yingxing’s long silver locks, making him groan. The other reached behind Dan Feng to rake her sharp nails down his back, leaving thin scratches that are deep enough to bleed. Dan Feng threw his head back, moaning at the pleasure before hissing from the stinging pain.

Yingxing, never one to let his spouses one up him, let the hand groping her breast trail down her soft stomach before suddenly pressing down on the bulge caused by their cocks.

“Ah! Yingxing, please!” How adorable, she was starting to slur her words a bit.

Yingxing couldn’t help but chuckle, “Close, love?”

Their poor darling, already so close while being lovingly fucked, their cocks overcrowding her poor cunt while their hands groped her breasts, the pudge of her hips, or pressing down on the bulge of her stomach in a dazed fascination of how well she’s taking both of their cocks.

Their normally stoic and quiet wife reduced to an incoherent mess, moaning only their names.

Both husbands groaned at the same time when they felt her tighten, impossibly tight. Dan Feng reached down to draw circles on her engorged clit, making her cry out even louder to the point he might get complaints in the morning even though his estate is built farther away from other citizens.

“Mmph! Ah! A-Feng, A-Xing! Please, I’m going to–ah!” Before their darling wife could even finish her sentence, she came, or rather, she squirted right at Dan Feng’s abdomen.

Her sudden orgasm triggered Yingxing’s own orgasm and she could feel herself being filled to the brim with the copious amount of his warm and thick cum. Dan Feng followed not too long after him.

She hiccuped in pleasure as she’s filled again, this time by Dan Feng’s cum, warm and thick, and just as abundant as Yingxing’s.

Once the cloud of pleasure had dissipated, she watched in mortification how her cum that splashed her husband, dripped down the planes of muscles his blessed body has.

He didn’t even look mad, if anything, he looked downright pleased by the turn of events with his telling smile and the mirth present in his eyes. Behind her, she could feel the rumble of Yingxing’s barking laugh.

“Oh, you did so well, darling. Look, you even made his other cock cum.” Yingxing cooed, nuzzling into her hair.

She looked down and saw that Yingxing was right, Dan Feng’s neglected cock had cum as well, his spent dripping from her chest to her stomach.

“Hmm, you took both of us well. How are you feeling, băobèi? Are you hurt?” Dan Feng kissed her forehead while checking her for any signs of harm. She could only shake her head in fondness.

Dan Feng was the first to pull out, Yingxing following soon after him. She whimpered at the feeling of their cocks rubbing against her sensitive walls.

Dan Feng watched in fascination how his and Yingxing’s combined cum dripped from their wife’s slightly gaping pussy, staining the bed and dripping onto the floor.

Before anymore could drip out from her lewd hole, Dan Feng scooped the excess cum and fingered it back inside her, causing her to jolt and gasp

“Let’s not waste, shall we? It would be such a shame, no, fūrén?” He looked at her with such an infuriating look on his handsome face while his fingers played with his and Yingxing’s mixed cum inside her sore cunt.

Yingxing’s large hands found their way to her breasts again, playing and groping her soft tits. All he gave her was a not-so apologetic kiss on the top of her hair.

“Ah! You-you scoundrels! Give this body of mine a break, won’t you?” their wife scowled but it broke into a pleasured moan when Dan Feng once again bit the sensitive part of her neck.

“Well, we did say we want you to sing, didn’t we, bǎobèi?”

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

Dan Heng shot out of his mattress, panting. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he tried to regulate his breathing, his heart beating so hard, it almost felt like it was going to burst out of his chest.

He pressed his hand against his chest, his heart finally calming down. As he calmed down, he realized he had another problem, the hard on between his legs. Dan Heng groaned.

‘What the hell was that dream? No, that was too vivid to be something my mind conjured up. Was it a memory? If so, why the hell did I have a wet dream of Dan Feng and his spouses?’

He looked beside him, the woman sleeping next to him thankfully lay unaware of his dilemma. Her appearance had a striking resemblance to the woman in his dreams. He shook his head

He reached down to brush away the hair against her face, fingers slightly caressing her feathers.

Well, whatever it was, he’ll deal with it tomorrow.

••••••••••

Ren’s eyes opened, trying to adjust in the darkness of his room. He sat up before placing a hand on his face.

There was a moment of silence before the sounds of his hysterical laughter filled the room.

“Of all the times, the memories of Yingxing decide to resurface now?”

Ren laid in his bed again, facing the ceiling while his large and scarred hand dragged against his face, a smirk on his face.

“Hah, I guess there is no escape for either of you. My bǎobèi, it won't be long until we're reunited...... And there is no place for you to hide, Yǐnyuè-jūn.”

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□

#honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x female reader #hsr dan feng #hsr yingxing #dan feng x reader #yingxing x reader #dan feng smut #yingxing smut #dan feng x reader x yingxing #x female reader #dan heng x reader #blade x reader

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navybrat817 · 1 month ago

Text

A Perfect Winter Evening

Pairing: Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Snow outside, a crackling fire, hot chocolate, and your lumberjack make for a perfect evening.

Word Count: Over 700

Warnings: Established relationship, fluff, Bucky Barnes being in love (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: For @buck-star's Fluffy Winter Event, sitting together in front of the fireplace. I went Burly and Bambi for this one.❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Bucky edit by the amazing @nixakimbo. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Snow fell outside the cabin, heavy enough that you wanted to stay indoors to avoid the cold yet light enough to create a serene image. It looked like something from a painting, down to the moonlight shining through the trees. The perfect winter evening. Even better because you had the perfect man to share it with.

“Do I have to pry you away from the window, Bambi?” Bucky asked, his deep rumbly voice making you smile. “Not that the view out the window isn’t beautiful, but I think the better view is over here.”

Looking over your shoulder, you gazed at your beautiful lumberjack as he added one more log to the fireplace. He had a point about the better view. He had his hair pulled back tonight and wore a sweater with his signature jeans, and he likely had the sleeves of his shirt pushed up to tease you and get your attention. “Maybe,” you replied, biting your lip as he stood up. “Give me one reason why I should join you over there instead of staying over here, Burly.”

He gestured to the spot in front of the fireplace where he had a blanket and pillows set up, creating a romantic setting to go with the perfect winter evening. “One, this is the perfect place to keep warm and two, you get a chance to snuggle with me.”

You tapped your finger against your chin. You never needed a reason to cuddle with your man, but you would happily take it. Still, it was fun to tease him a little. “Tempting, tempting,” you said, pretending to think about it as he took slow, deliberate steps toward you. “Give me another reason.”

“Oh, no. You said one reason and I actually gave you two. Keeping warm, and snuggling with me,” he smirked, reaching out to take your hand. “And I think snuggling with me should actually count as two and three.”

“That’s true. I’ll give you that.” You let him pull you close, but leaned your head back when he tried to kiss you. The pinch in his brows was adorable. “But what about the hot chocolate?”

You couldn’t help smiling when he looked offended, his pretty blue eyes filled with mock hurt. “You think I’d set up a romantic fire for us on a cold night and not have hot chocolate waiting?” he asked, your heart racing when he gripped your chin, his calloused touch filled with tenderness that no one else got to experience. “And here I thought you loved me.”

“I do love you,” you whispered, not stopping him this time when his lips touched yours. It was as gentle as the snow falling, sending wonderful shivers down your spine. “And I know you love me, too.”

He showed you every day that he loved you through his thoughtfulness. Like how he always had your favorite snacks stocked up so you wouldn’t have to rush into town when you had a craving. Or how he had blankets or one of his shirts nearby, so you’d stay warm. And a kiss on your lips every morning before he started his day and one every evening once he came home.

“More than anything,” he whispered, your heart racing all over again. “Now will you please snuggle with me before I lose my mind?”

You melted at his puppy dog eyes. How could someone so burly pull off a look like that? And crave snuggling so much? “Okay, but only because I don’t want you to lose your mind,” you teased.

“That’s incredibly gracious of you,” he winked.

Once you both sat down, you settled into Bucky’s arms with a happy sigh. The scent of the hot chocolate drifting from the nearby mugs made your mouth water, and the crackling fire created a relaxing aura. You could fall asleep just like that, with your man holding you through the night until the morning came.

“So, snow falling outside, hot chocolate, snuggling in front of a fire,” you smiled, resting a hand on his chest. “A perfect winter evening?”

“Yeah,” he answered, gazing at you as you stared into the fire, his love for you as bright as the flames. “A perfect winter evening.”

This might be my last ficlet of 2024 and appreciate each and every one of you for indulging in my nonsense. ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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mommynott · 2 months ago

Text

Fire and Ice

12 Days of Dickmas - Theodore Nott x Reader

Summary: A cozy fireside evening with your boyfriend ends up getting hot to the touch, of course he can always make you melt👀

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, SMUT, chars 18+, modern au, bf!theo, dom!theo, fireside fuck, clit stim, oral, PIV, wax play, ice play, temp play, dirty talk, teasing, rough sex, slight choking, possessive, praising, marking?, Theo showing you every sensation from hot to cold

Taking a sip from your glass, the champagne bubbled on your tongue. Theo placed the bottle back into the silver ice bucket. A great different from the fire flickering in front of you.

“Sei bellissima, mio dolce amore—“

His hot breath ticked right against the crook of your neck. Softly smiling over to your boyfriend, a giggle escaped your lips. “You know what Italian does to me, Teddy…”

Teasing him right back, your faces were inches apart. A sly smirk grew on Theodore’s face. “I don’t believe I do…care to enlighten me, amore?” Growling right against your cheek, he stole a quick kiss of your rosed flesh.

The sparkling champagne was clearly giving you both a flirtatious buzz. Setting a romantic atmosphere around you both. “Oh, I’d love to enlighten you…” Breathing those words of seduction, you pressed your lush lips to Theo’s.

Instantly deepening the kiss, his hands roamed down your waist before gently laying you down. Climbing on top of you in front of the crackling fireplace.

“I can never get sick of kissing those lips of yours…”

Breathing into your mouth, he rocked himself on you. Feeling his throbbing bulge against the thin fabric of your pajama shorts. “Good…You better not-“ Moaning through the kiss, you tugged at his t-shirt.

Feeling a smirk grow on Theo’s lips, he pulled away for a moment. “Someone’s needy, hm-?” He teased, sitting back to throw his shirt off. His hands carefully unbuttoned your pajama blouse.

Helping you slip off your top, your breasts perked out. A hunger forming within his ocean gaze. “So…Fuckin’…Perfect….” Muttering in a low whisper, Theodore’s eyes glanced over to the fireplace for a moment.

There sat a sparkly crimson candle. Something of a Christmas decoration. Then his gaze moved over to the ice bucket. A sinister grin twitching on his lips. “What?” You asked, clearly confused about why your boyfriend’s attention was roaming around the room instead of on you.

“Why don’t we…Do something a little different tonight?— Whatchya think amore?”

Theo’s voice came out growl like almost, only igniting a heated flame within you. “S-sure…What do you have in mind, Teddy?” Questioning him in your usual submissive tone, he reached over, grabbing the candle.

“How about…Some fire and ice, hm?” A deep yet seductive chuckle freed raggedly from his throat. Temp play. Fuck. You had always wanted to try it. Slowly bobbing your head, you swallowed.

Biting back a smirk that wanted to form on your own lips, Theo held the wick of the candle over the fire. Getting it ready. “This is hot…Quite literally…Hot-“ A sea of giggles washed from your lips as you shuffled your shorts off.

With a sarcastic shake of his head, Theo laughed along with you before seeing your juicy cunt on full display for him. “—Cazzo…Fuckin’ Hell, Tesoro-“ He mumbled, holding the burning candle in one hand.

Gliding down his free hand, he immediately gave your throbbing little bud a few slaps, feeling your wetness splash against his palm while pleasurable yelps released from you. “F-fuck—“

Massively turned on already, Theo could hardly contain himself. “So wet for me, huh? So eager to get this wax all over this pretty body of yours?” Taunting you with his words, your back arched with a burning need.

“—Mhhmm…I want it, baby-“

Hearing your sensational begging, Theodore tilted the candle. The reddened wax dripping right between your tits. “Lookin’ so sexy covered in it—“ His darkened eyes traced over the wax while you Hissed from the intense warmth of it.

Quickly using his other hand, he grabbed an ice cube from the champagne bucket. Holding it between his pointer finger and thumb, teasing it along your pulsating little bud.

“S-so cold—“ A shiver ran down your spine from the icy yet sensual touch. However, almost instantly, Theodore let more of the crimson wax drop. This time across your nipples.

You could see the pride that washed over his face while you were lost in the icy hot sensations across your body. “So cold yet so hot- Huh, amore?” Teasing you, he swirled the ice cube around.

Feeling how it started to melt between your folds, the coolness mixed with your juices as you felt the wax atop your body hardening. “—Mhmmmm…I-I love this-“

Breathing out, the cube was practically melted at this point. Theo taking this time to circle his fingers around your clit. “Fuck— Yeah, you do…Such a good girl— Lookin’ so pretty…Painted in red for me-“ His voice becoming more and more growl-like.

The raunchy yet beautiful combination of the compliment made you shudder more than the Ice ever could. Your moans only progressively getting louder. He tilted the candle once more, this time over your abdomen, the wax splashing across your delicate skin.

Pain, pleasure, burning, all of it seemed to swish together to create a fine mixture of unusual bliss. Almost making your head fuzzy. “Let’s see…How fast you can make this melt-“ Theo clicked his tongue against his teeth, shooting you a cheeky wink

Reaching over to the silver-lined bucket once again, he grabbed a larger ice cube and plopped it in his mouth before kneeling between your spread legs. Your brows shot up, but then it hit you-

“T-Theo! Fuck- Feels so good- so cold!”

His lips immediately suctioned around your cluster of nerves, his tongue lapping around sloppily. The chillness of the cube causes goosebumps to erupt over you.

Now practically crying out from the intense feelings of ecstasy, Theo didn’t say a word. Instead focusing his tongue to flick as fast as it could against your achy clit.

One of his strong hands still held the half-used candle. Letting it pour over your mound this time. The wax spreading seamlessly around your sensitive skin. “G-gods— So close…So- fuckin’ close!”

Your body didn’t even know how to react anymore. Under the trance of your boyfriend, Theodore Nott. Indulged in the fire and ice going on.

However, His darkened gaze burned up into yours, his tongue moving in unimaginable swirls. The cube almost melted, but the coldness of it remained all around his mouth. Theo wanted nothing more than for you to be overstimulated with euphoria.

“D-don’t stop— p-please..Gods— I’m-“

Just as you were going to hit an intense climax, he made sure to pour down another layer of wax across your mound. Only igniting a more intense orgasm. Your screams echoing off the walls.

He slowly pulled away, his chin wet from not only the ice but from your juices as well. Wiping it away with the back of his hand, he smirked down at you. “So bloody beautiful when you finish for me-“

A cherried blush spread across your cheeks, Theo shuffled down his pants and pulled out his massive length. “Fuck me…please…fuck me-“ Begging out through a breath as if it was your last, you Physically saw his dick twitch.

“Cazzo— Don’t have to ask me twice, amore-“

With that, he slammed his thick and needy cock deep inside your juicy pussy. A loud groan guttering from his throat. “Each time I fuck you— God- I swear…You feel better each time-“

Through his thrusts, you were lost in a sea of moans, feeling Theo drive into you even harder. Just then, a lightbulb went off in that head of his. Reaching over to grab the flaming candle.

“Mmm— Theo-“ The babbling mess of you could hardly make out a word let alone a proper sentence. His pumps started to slow down, hitting smoothly against your cervix. Your gaze danced with the flame. Watching as he carefully dropped the wax. Moving it slowly.

“…Almost…Done-“ His tongue poked between his lips, the concentration painted over his chiseled face. “D-done with what?” You asked through a soft whimper.

With that, he flicked the candle swiftly, finishing with it as he set it to the side of you two. Theodore took his fingers, tracing over the wax across your throat. “T…h…e…o-“ His voice came out in a possessive whisper.

It hit you. His name. He spelled his name with the dark wax, right along your throat. “Oh? Marking me up as yours?-“ You managed to tease your boyfriend back. His hand now gripping around your neck.

“Just marking what’s mine—“

A possessive growl freed his lips before he mercilessly began to pound into you again. Showing exactly why you belonged to him. That you were his and only his. As if you didn’t know that already.

On the seventh day of Dickmas we get…Some fire..Some wax..and Some ice 👀🎁

Eeekkkk! This was so fun writing and I hope y’all enjoyed this as much as I did hehe🖤

Make sure you’re catching up with the other juicy fics from @nottsangel @nottswitch & @slytherinslut0 🎄

Dividers pinned in my masterlist🌙

Love all my sexy smut sluts 💋

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trashytracktales · 2 months ago

Note

I absolutely love your writing!!!!!! I have a bit of a longer request, you don’t have to write it if you don’t want to.

Lando and y/n meet through a mutual friend, and they both feel an immediate attraction. A few months later, they’re on a group trip—maybe at a beach villa or a mountain house for skiing. One day during the trip, they both decide to stay in, each thinking they’re alone.

Lando, believing he has the place to himself, starts masturbating on the sofa in the living room. Around the same time, y/n comes into the living room, planning to watch TV. She spots Lando on the sofa but doesn’t immediately realize what he’s doing as she was behind the sofa and a few steps away —until he moans her name. She kind of hides herself and spies on him until she gets enough courage and goes to him and asks him if she can help him and basically she goes on her knees right in front of him and starts sucking him off and he’s so surprised and turned on that he doesn’t know what to say or do other than moan her name and praise her

Deep in the Alps | LN⁴

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── Sorry for keeping you waiting, I had a few works in progress + another request that came in before this one. Enjoy 🤍🎀

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

𐙚 summary ──── What begins as a private moment turns into something unexpected and, with a few days of vacation left, Lando is determined to make every moment count, setting the stage for an unforgettable getaway that blurs the lines between friendship and something far more... exciting.

𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── +18, mature/sexual content, slight fluff & smut, teasing, explicit language, horny thoughts, masturbation, oral sex ─ (m)receiving, low-key whiney Lando.

𐙚 word count ──── 4.1k

𐙚 date ──── Dec. 2, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── The amount of Lando requests I get is stupid. Keep 'em coming 🤞🏻

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

OF ALL THE people in his friend group, Lando looked forward to winter break the most. He loves summer, but nothing compares to a holiday deep in the Alps, away from cameras and prying eyes.

Their cabin is covered in a generous layer of snow that glimmers like a sea of diamonds under the pale winter sun. The air is crisp and cold, and everyone is excited for today, considering how much it snowed last night.

The group dynamic is diverse, having friendships that have been inseparable for years, while others are still navigating the early stages of familiarity.

She met them through Pietra a few months ago, but this is the first time she joined the entire group for a holiday. As expected, Lando is the central piece who draws attention through his bad jokes and easygoing charm, being a constant source of amusement for everybody. She, on the other hand, is content to sit back and observe, though she’s found herself smiling at his antics more often than she’d care to admit.

Their days so far have been a blur of early mornings spent carving down snowy trails, afternoons in crowded lodges sipping hot chocolate or mulled wine, and evenings around the fireplace, sharing stories and making more plans to hangout in the future. It was easy for her to fit in because everyone seemed — at least at first — to go out of their way to make her feel welcome and included.

Today, however, a dull headache throbs at her temples, forcing her to opt out of skiing, retreating to her room for a nap and leaving them to bundle up and head out to the slopes.

Lando also stays behind, claiming he’s exhausted from the previous night’s gaming sessions with Max and Morgan. But in reality, he’s just craving a moment of quiet, which is a rarity for him.

Outside, the snow glistens with an almost blinding brightness, reflecting the sunlight in too sharply. Lando had made a point to pull the curtains earlier, and now, the dimly lit living room is perfect for lounging on the couch with a blanket draped over his lap. The movie playing on the TV is a vague blur of sound and color in the background, abandoned halfway through in favor of his phone, which is much more interesting at the moment.

He scrolls through his Instagram feed, pausing on a group photo they took when they first arrived at the location. The image lingers on the screen, and his focus sharpens, studying everybody's face until he gets to her. She’s in the center, barely noticeable because of how small she looks like next to the others, bundled up in her pink jacket, her knit beanie perched perfectly atop her head, with loose strands of hair curling around her face. Her cheeks are rosy from the cold, and her smile is soft but radiant.

Lando exhales sharply, the pressure building low in his stomach catching him off guard. He tries to shake it off, tries to remind himself that she’s just a girl that hangs out with them from time to time.

Just a girl. That's all.

However, he can't explain how she managed to get under his skin so quickly. They are polar opposites of each other, and Lando noticed that. She's so quiet and reserved, yet somehow captivating in a way he can’t quite understand — it’s frustrating, really. Maybe that's exactly what gets him, making him wonder what it would take to make her lose that composure.

No. He can't go there.

Although…

He lets his thumb brush against the screen, zooming in on her face. A low groan escapes his throat as he recalls the way she looked last night, perched on the arm of a chair while everyone chatted around her, her lips quirking up at his dumb joke; she was the only one that understood it, and he caught that. Such a stupid joke, it wasn't even funny. But she laughed.

Why does she have to laugh at his jokes? More importantly, why does he want to make jokes all the time, just so he can hear her laugh?

“Get a grip, mate,” he whispers to himself under his breath, his free hand shifting lower, sliding under the waistband of his sweats. It’s instinctive, his body reacting to thoughts he’s been suppressing for a while now. “Not that kind of grip, fuck’s sake.”

He can't stop but think of how she would've laughed at that, too.

Lando closes his eyes, his strokes slow at first as he lets the thoughts flood in — it’s a good thing no one can read his mind at the moment. He thinks of her lips and how they part slightly when she’s surprised, and the way her teeth graze her bottom lip when she’s lost in thought. He can't help but imagine those lips closing around his cock, and what her voice would sound like if he fucked her pretty mouth.

“Come on,” he gasps, frustration tugging at the edge of his patience.

His pace quickens as his mind wanders further, seeing her with his mind's eye lying delicately beneath him, small and innocent, breathing in short spasms, and asking him for more. Her softness and the way she carries herself makes him want to see her like that — in a different light, flushed and undone. The image of her laughing at one of his ridiculous attempts to impress her spurs him on, and his hand tightens, his strokes becoming rougher as his breathing grows heavier.

That's when she realizes what she's walked in on.

All this time, she thought she was all alone and, judging by the scene in front of her, he thinks that, too. Her heart thuds wildly as she tries to process it, too stunned to move another muscle. His breaths are ragged, and she feels the tension radiating off him even from where she stands, frozen in place — at the base of the stairs, behind the couch. She knows she should leave and spare them both from an embarrassing encounter, but something keeps her there.

Closing her eyes, she squeezes the railing nervously. She barely got rid of her headache, but now her head's all dizzy from Lando's rough grunts that are echoing throughout the room.

He sounds as if he ran a marathon, barefoot, in the rain.

He sounds tired, but he's aggressive, like it's making him mad — the rhythmic slap of his fist against skin making her mouth water and stomach tighten.

He sounds... delicious.

And then, her eyes snap open.

She blinks rapidly as if that will help her hear better. His voice, low and needy, whispers her name like a prayer, again and again, a desperate sound that escapes his mouth deliberately. It echoes in the room and within the walls of her skull, pulling Lando deeper into the fantasy that he’s helpless to resist — and her, towards him.

Heat floods her cheeks, a mix of surprise, shock, and something deeper spreading through her as she tries to control her breathing.

How can she simply leave, when her name hangs on the corner of his mouth, so drenched in want? It's too late now. She doesn’t think anymore, doesn’t stop to analyze what she’s about to do; she simply trusts her instincts, as she always did.

Lando doesn’t hear her approach, lost in the haze of his own thoughts, his hand moving rhythmically under the blanket. His moans get increasingly louder, so obscene in her ears. It's like they call for her, alluring and profound, and she can’t say no.

Quietly stepping closer, she leans over the back of the couch, her hand reaching out as if it has a mind of its own. When her fingers slide over his, Lando's body stiffens, his breath catching in his throat.

“Relax,” she whispers, her voice soft and filled with anticipation, causing him to drop the phone somewhere on the couch.

He tilts his head back, wide eyes meeting hers, his face flushed and disbelieving. Her sweet perfume takes over his senses, getting him high on it.

He's surely dreaming, because there is no way in hell that she is real.

“What—”

“It's okay,” she assures him, her hand gently guiding his to resume its movement. “Let me help.”

Lando yelps, his head dropping back against the couch, their faces so close to each other as her grip steadies him, matching the pace he had before. The light weight of her hand over his sends a jolt through his body, his brain so close to shutting down for good, while his chest is rising and falling rapidly as she coaxes him closer to the edge.

What in the fuck is happening?

“Does that feel good, pretty boy?” she asks, her lips dangerously close to his.

Lando nods as his hips jerk involuntarily. He refuses to believe it's because of the pet name she just gave him; he is way too strong to fall for that.

Still, he closes his eyes again, biting at his lower lip to stop his whimpers from cascading out of his mouth. There is a small trace of cold sweat pooling on his forehead as her hand moves with his until his entire body tenses, and he finally lets out a deep, guttural moan, her name falling from his lips again, more like a warning this time. He knows he's close, so he tries to push her hand away to avoid the mess that he's about to make. But she stays ferm, using her free palm to push his head in the crook of her neck and caress his cheek softly. His breath falls hot on her skin, and when she starts encouraging him, it's enough for Lando to let go, thick splashes covering his lower abdomen before he can even think. The rest spills over their their joined hands, managing to get another grunt of pleasure out of him.

“There you go,” she says, tracing her thumb over his cum-soaked head, feeling him throbbing beneath her touch. “Such a hot view.”

For a litte while, the room falls silent except for Lando's labored breathing. She moves to sit beside him on the couch, giving him a moment to recover; his eyes are still closed, because how the fuck is he supposed to look at her now?

After that, she throws the tissue box at him, letting out a soft chuckle at his pathetic attempt to catch it.

Exhaling sharply, Lando drags his hands down his face, still avoiding the eye contact. “Well, that was embarrassing.”

She chuckles again, studying him closely, while he squeezes his eyes shut as if he can erase the last few minutes from existence. Except he doesn't really want to.

They sit in silence for another moment before she shifts, crossing her legs and facing him fully. “Did it happen before?” she asks curiously.

His eyes widen slightly, finally looking at her, “What? Of course not.”

Her brow lifts, amused. “Liar.”

“I’m not lying,” he insists, his voice pitching higher.

Her lips curl into a knowing smile. “You always glance around when you’re lying, like you’re checking to see if anyone buys it. You just did it,” she points out.

Lando sighs, dragging a hand through his curls. “Right. That obvious?”

She leans in, nodding, all the amusement gone. “When?”

He hesitates, clearly debating how much to say, but her expectant gaze leaves him no choice. “It started after the Singapore weekend,” he admits, his voice low.

Her mouth goes dry. That was the weekend Pietra first introduced them. Lando had won that Sunday, and the after party was the craziest she'd been to yet.

“You wore that top, and—”

She frowns. “That top?”

“You know the one,” he says, gesturing vaguely at his chest. “It was black, low-cut, and — look, you just looked really good, okay? I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

“My top?” she grins, leaning her elbow on the back of the couch as she watches him squirm.

Your tits, he wants to say, but stops before he embarrasses himself even more.

“You've never said anything,” the girl continues, “Why?”

Lando breaths in slowly, running a hand through his tousled curls again, the tips of his ears burning. “Because of P,” he admits. “She told me how much she liked having you around, and I didn’t want to mess that up. She’d kill me if she thought I scared you off or made things weird.”

Her brow lifts, amusement flickering in her expression once again. “You’re scared of Pietra?”

“A little,” he jokes, though his crooked smile falters under her probing stare. “But mostly, I didn’t want to ruin anything for you. I figured it was better to keep my mouth shut. You seem to enjoy your time with us, and I want you around, too.”

She tilts her head, studying his face in the dim light. His piercing eyes are framed by soft, dark brows, and she can’t help but imagine tracing her fingers through his soft curls. The faint facial hair adds a maturity to his otherwise boyish features, making her swallowing hard.

Bottom line, she is attracted to him, even more so now that she knows the feeling is mutual.

“Well, that’s… considerate,” she replies, her lips curving slightly.

Lando chuckles nervously, though the sound dies quickly when her hand moves, her fingertips brushing over his bicep. The contact is featherlight, but it sets his skin ablaze, his breath hitching as she lets her hand glide down his arm, tracing the curve of his muscle with an idle curiosity that feels anything but innocent.

“And now?” she comes back to her initial curiosity, her voice dipping, almost teasing. “What’s stopping you now?”

His throat tightens, words tangling in his mind as she looks at him, her eyes glittering with something that makes his cock throb against his thigh. Lando was sure that he had her figured out. But now, as she leans closer, her lips parting slightly as if to taste the tension hanging between them, he realizes how wrong he was.

“It’s always the quiet ones,” states Lando, ignoring her question, “The ones who seem all shy and innocent, hm?”

“I am shy and innocent,” she agrees with a nod, which makes him scoff. “Alright, maybe not that shy. Or innocent.”

Recognizing that doesn't make Lando's job any easier. Quite the opposite. He's more intrigued as to what secrets she may be hiding beneath her deceptive surface.

“So… since we agreed on that. Is there something else I can help you with?” she murmurs, her tongue darting out to wet her lips as she gazes at him expectantly.

Lando brings his hand to rest on hers, his restraint hanging by a thread. “You don’t—have to.”

“But I want to,” she rushes to say, her tone decisive.

With that, she shifts slowly, lowering herself to her knees in front of him with an ease that makes his chest burn. Her hands rest lightly on his thighs, her gaze lifting to meet his, and in her eyes, he finds no hesitation, no doubt. Only intent, want, and excitement.

Stil, he needs to ask, “Are you sure?” he breathes, his voice barely audible.

Instead of answering using her words, her fingers grasp the edge of the blanket, freeing him from under it. She has to muffle a groan of surprise when she sees all of him in its entirety, still half-hard, resting heavily on his thigh.

“See, I knew you had a pretty cock,” she says matter-of-factly, mostly to herself. “I mean, it makes sense. So is your face.”

Lando’s hands flex at his sides, “You’re gonna ruin me,” he mutters, voice hoarse, but he doesn’t stop her as her fingers curl around his length, her movements deliberate and sure.

“Oh no,” she teases sarcastically, her grin widening as she leans forward, her touch igniting a fire that spreads through him like wildfire. “I kind of hoped it would be the other way around.”

“That can be arranged,” he assures her, hissing at her movements.

She needs both of her hands to take him properly: one wrapped around the base to hold him steady, while the other pumps him a few times to get him hard, before dragging her mouth down the sides. And, because she's the literal devil, she makes sure she holds his gaze while she takes the head in her mouth — warm, inviting, and so wet.

“Fuck,” he rasps, his hand fisting the blanket at his side.

She starts slowly, testing her movements first. It's a good thing she's already imagined this before, and now her mouth water on its own when she takes him in, inch by inch. Until she gets to her hand that stokes his base lightly. It makes her feel so full, which is ridiculous considering that he's about to fuck her mouth, and not her pussy. Still, her walls clench hard on nothing as she pulls him all the way out.

“Fuck,” he repeats, “Your mouth is so—fucking hell. You feel so good.”

The cold air after she pulls him out is enveloping his needy cock from every direction, forcing a string of whimpers out of Lando’s throat. It only make her smile as she keeps his eye on him, turning back to licking from the base all the way to his tip, where he started leaking in the meantime, as if she didn't help him jerk off only a few minutes ago.

It's hard to stay focused on her when her tongue seems like it wants to send him into a coma, but it's even harder to take his eyes off her. She looks so good on her knees that his hand almost searches the couch looking for his phone to snap a quick picture. Instead, he is content to imprint her on his memory, confident that he won't forget what she looks like, with her lips around his cock, sucking the life out of him as if hers depends on it.

Even so, Lando needs superhuman powers not to grab the back of her head to guide his cock deeper. He can't do that, though. She did offer to suck him off, but Lando doesn't know her limits yet, and he doesn't want to cross them without knowing. Alternatively, his fists squeeze tighter, sliding his body down on the couch to be closer to her.

Luckily, she gets the memo, taking him deeper into her mouth, bobbing her head a few times before she drags her tongue against the underside of his cock. The feeling makes every cell in his body burn, one at a time. He's had people going down on him before, but no one managed to get all of him in one go, and certainly not the way she does — opening up so wide for him until the tip of her nose taps gently on his base, making her drool messily all over him.

It’s almost too much, and so overwhelming that he forgets how to breathe for a few seconds, the tension in his lower abdomen building at an alarming pace.

“Shit, Lando,” the girl sobs, her eyes teary, “You're big,” she adds, her voice raw as she continues working her hand up and down his length, while catching her breath.

He doesn't need an ego boost, but he's happy to take it as long as it comes from her.

Lando's head falls back against the couch in surrender, just as she squeezes at his thigh with her free hand, only to bring him back to her. But the slick, pornographic sound her hand makes as she rubs him sends Lando straight to his own personal heaven, where his senses are activated exponentially. He's far too lost in the way she makes him feel, that only her mouth sucking hungrily on his tip can bring him back. Her tongue starts circling around it, and Lando’s eyes snap open while he rolls his hips back into her mouth.

She moans in protest, pulling him out again, “Eager boy,” she whispers out of breath. “Are you close?”

“Mhm” whines Lando, finally rising his head to look at her.

And what a rookie mistake that was.

Somehow, she managed to keep that innocence he saw in her ever since they met for the first time. Her big, deer eyes looking back at him while her cheeks are flushed pink, her lips swollen and her chin drenched would usually be his undoing. But she’s still mouthing around his cock, holding him in her delicate hand, so oblivious to the fact that Lando will see exactly that image whenever he closes his eyes, for a long time to come.

Starting now.

She chuckles at his choked hum and the way he seems like he can’t keep his eyes open anymore, “Where do you want it?”

Inside your mouth.

All over your tits.

On your face.

Her colorful giggle brings him back once again, realizing much too late that he said it all out loud.

“You look so hot when you're desperate,” she says, her lips shiny with spit and pre-cum, squeezing him slightly as she traces her thumb over his leaking head.

Normally, he’d have words to counter that, but all he needs right now is to cum, cum, cum. Except she unexpectedly frees him from her grip, forcing Lando to snap at the loss of contact, her lips leaving him cold, wet, hard, sensitive, and so fucking close to the edge.

His legs tense, and a low, guttural groan escapes him without permission. “Why did you—” he begins, his voice breaking. His head snaps forward, another whimper slipping from him as he watches her, wide-eyed and wrecked, struggling to catch his breath. “Fucking hell, what are you doing?”

She silences him by peeling her pajama top off in one smooth move, tossing it aside without hesitation. The gesture is rapid and deliberate, and Lando’s jaw slackens as he takes in the sight of her bare skin, the curve of her chest illuminated by the faint light that’s coming from the TV. His hands twitch on the couch as if he doesn’t know whether to reach for her or keep himself anchored to the seat.

Without a word, she leans forward, her eyes locking with his as she takes him back into her mouth. Her gaze never wavers, and Lando feels like he might combust on the spot.

So beautiful.

She smiles, intertwining her fingers with his, while her other hand wraps around his length, stroking him in rhythm with her mouth. The intimacy of it all, the eye contact, and the sheer devotion in her movements make his mind travel far away.

His muscles tighten, his free hand gripping the back of the couch for support as he feels himself throbbing against her tongue. He can barely form a coherent thought, his body shaking with the effort to hold on just a little longer, even though he knows it's a losing battle.

“Oh, shit,” he murmurs, his voice raw and heavy with need. “Such a perfect mouth, I’m—”

That’s when she pulls back again, and he curses loudly at the loss of her warmth. But before he can beg her to come back, she leans over slightly, guiding his cock as his release spills over her bare chest, the warmth of it contrasting with the cool air.

“Fuck, baby, fuck,” Lando cries out, his body shaking with the force of his orgasm. “That's so hot.”

She lets out a soft sigh, her lips curving into a satisfied smile as she tilts her head, still maintaining that piercing eye contact.

Lando can’t breathe. He doesn’t know whether to apologize for the mess or worship her for the sight in front of him. Either way, he doesn't even have time to decide. The next second, her mouth falls open, sticking her tongue out to rub his sensitive tip against it, cum and spit dripping down all over her chin.

“Holy shit,” he finally continues, his voice shaky as his eyes are raking over her with a mix of awe and disbelief.

His fingers, still intertwined with hers, tighten their grip, and before she can move away, he uses the leverage to pull her on top of him. She gasps softly at the sudden movement, bracing herself on his shoulders, her flushed face just inches from his.

“Oh, hi,” she says, the sudden closeness catching her off guard.

“Hi,” replies Lando with a little smile in the corner of his mouth, “Swollen lips suit you,” he teases, his voice thick with lingering desire and a touch of his usual smugness. His eyes gleam with a mischievous light as he brushes his thumb over her lower lip, smirking when she playfully hits his chest in response. “Although I’d say you’re missing something.”

“You don’t say?” she asks, arching an eyebrow. “And what’s tha—?”

Lando doesn't let her finish before closing the space between them, capturing her lips with his. The kiss is messy, unrestrained, potentially gross, but he doesn’t care about the lingering remnants of spit and his cum still on her. If anything, it seems to spur him on, his tongue exploring hers with a slow intensity that makes her feel like she’s the only person in the world that has ever caught his attention.

When Lando pulls back, his lips glistening just like hers, he chuckles, wiping his jaw with the back of his hand and giving her an exaggerated grin. “My turn?”

PREVIOUS LN⁴ ONE-SHOT

MASTERLIST

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conchcronch · 3 months ago

Text

My Turn

WC: 2816

Pairing: Spite x Fem!Rook

Summary: Lucanis accidentally fell asleep which leads Spite to take over when you come to spend the evening together.

Warnings: a little bit DUB CON but it gets cleared up towards the end.

A/N: PLEASE send me prompts for Lucanis and Spite x Rook, I’m obsessed.

The lack of a moon and stars in the Fade had unsettled you since your first night at the Lighthouse. The sky was lit as though there were some sort of light source but you could never find one as you walked from the main building out to the farthest room at the end of the courtyard. What had originally been your dining hall had been taken over by the Crow, feeling most at comfort in the dank pantry, not something you could fully understand but you also had no intention of questioning it more then you already had.

The door was unlocked, the fire lit in between the two wolf statues. Your partner was not leaning against the mantle as you had expected, but the flickering of candles through the pantry/bedroom door quickly hinted at where he likely was. You noticed freshly brewed coffee, two mugs set out, anticipating your arrival. You cleared the distance from the door to the counter in the small, dark kitchen. Taking your time prepping the coffee, leaving his black so he could taste the flavor notes of this particular blend, but pouring a decent amount of milk in your mug, the thought of leaving yours black made you grimace.

With mugs of coffee in hand you walked past the fireplace, the warmth wrapping around your legs making the cold of the back bedroom all the more jarring. His back was to you, the candle light flickering, distorting his shadow as it danced across the wall. “I brought you coffee, it might be a little cold, but I can warm it up if you want.” You took a quick sip of yours as you held his outstretched, his back still to you.

“Not now” a wave of his hand made you cock an eyebrow but put the mug down on a small shelf nevertheless. You leaned your back against the sturdy oak shelving, sipping your coffee as you tried to output enough fire magic from your palm to warm the ceramic mug rather then ignite it. The silence stretched on, but it wasn’t uncomfortable despite being slightly out of character for him. Ever since the blighted dragon attacked Tarviso he had been different, the sight of such a beast in a town that he and his family were fighting so hard to save must have proved to him just how delicate it really was.

His weight shifted from foot to foot, his hand under his chin, toying with his beard as he so often did when deep in thought. “Neve is still gone” the silence had stretched on much too long for your liking, your anxiety gnawing at you as you watched him. You were hoping he’d reassure you, tell you you had no choice but to make the impossible call, to thank you for choosing his city over her’s. But instead he just stood there, silent, unmoving. “I’m worried she might not come back, Bellara says she will, but honestly I’m not sure I would if I were her.” You tipped your head further back, the last mouthful of coffee warming your throat as you put your mug on the shelf next to his. “Lucanis,” He didn’t budge at the use of his name, his shoulders barely even moving as he breathed. You stepped closer to him, your hand out in front of you to touch his shoulder. “If now’s not a good time I ca-“ He felt cooler to the touch, even through the layers of his shirt and vest, it was as though his body was giving off no heat.

“Smells like waterlily.” The voice was his, but not entirely. His accent was present but the pitch off, the tone heightened. You tensed, preparing yourself for whatever was to come next. Finally the body of your partner turned, his eyes glowing purple as you’ve seen only a handful of times before.

“Spite” The name feels sharp in your mouth, your tone giving away your hesitation. He leaned forward, sniffing you closer and you remained glued in place. He stepped forward, close enough you could wrap your arms around him if you really wanted to. You can feel his breath on your neck as he inhaled your scent deeply, his face was so close to your skin you swear you could feel his lips against you for the briefest of seconds.

“You came to us for pleasure” You felt your face flush, of course it wasn’t your only intention, but you certainly weren’t going to turn it down if one thing led to another, but your relationship was still fairly new, and despite your longing for a physical component you weren’t intending to push those boundaries. But for your desires to be so bluntly outed there was a wave of embarrassment that washed over you.

“Let me talk to Lucanis.” You stepped back, crossing your arms over your chest but not missing the way the demon’s purple eyes dragged down your form.

“It’s my turn with you.” You couldn't deny how impressed you were at Spite’s fairly calm demeanor, after listening to many of Lucanis’ one sided conversations with the demon you had expected him to be bordering on feral when speaking directly to him.

”Spite, I want to talk to Lucanis.” You added a bit more force to your tone, hoping the demon would grow tired of your insistence and go back to wherever it is he resides when Lucanis is in control. But when you felt hands on your hips, tugging you against the body you so desperately craved it took you a beat before you were struggling against the grip.

His lips were on your neck, lapping more than kissing. Groaning as he did so, every lick finishing with a gravelly moan, his hips rutting against your side as his hands balled the cotton of your shirt. “sp-pite- fuck” You tried to convince yourself to push away from him, but your longing for the Crow was fogging your brain. You could feel your core pulse, his tongue working wonders along your sensitive neck and the slightly distorted moans were making it difficult to resist.

“Spite” You tried to say but it ended up coming out as a whine rather than a demand, receiving what could only be referred to as a purr instead of a hum.

“Can smell how wet you are, Rook” The way he purred your name forced you to swallow a moan. Before you were able to even notice him walking you backwards, your back was against the stone wall of his makeshift bedroom. His fingers trying to unbutton the top clasp of your navy casual shirt, bought from a Crow vendor Lucanis had brought you to not that long ago. His patience lasted about as long as it took you to blink before he ripped the garment open, buttons falling to the ground around your feet.

Before you could chastise him about the now ruined shirt, the words died in your throat the moment his hands were on your bare waist. His blunt, well manicured nails dug into your skin, as he pressed your body against the wall, his lips finally on yours.

This wasn’t the first kiss you and Lucanis would have shared, but it certainly was the most heated. Every kiss with Lucanis had stopped before it went anywhere, his lips pulling away as soon as you tried to deepen it, never giving a reason but always retreating afterwards. But the way Spite kissed you, the way his tongue invaded your mouth, marking what you knew he’d refer to as his territory. You were trapped between him and the wall, his hands slipped down from your waist until he could roughly grab your ass, keeping your hips against his as he rutted against you, moans and grunts flowing from his mouth every time it wasn’t covered by your own lips.

“Had to…” He spoke into your mouth, his words fading as though he forgot he was even speaking “had to watch him. Watch him kiss you. Terribly.”

“Spite” you tried to sound as though his sentence offended, but it ended up coming out far more breathy than intended.

“Could smell you. Can always smell you. I always tell him. Tell him you want this. But he never listens to me.” He’s back to your neck, lapping at your skin, dragging his tongue down to your collarbones, his hands kneading the fat of your ass.

”Spite, I think- ah- I think it’s Lucanis’ turn.” Spite laughed against you, biting at your collar hard enough you weren’t sure if he had drawn blood or not.

“He’ll stop.” His mouth sank lower, nipping at the tops of your breast, “I know you don’t want to stop. Can smell it.”

“Spite, please.” Reluctantly he pulled away from your chest, your eyes meeting his glowing purple sockets, and somehow you could have sworn you saw his expression soften for a fraction of a second. You reached forward, cupping his cheek as you had done countless times to Lucanis, hoping the demon found the same comfort in it that the Crow did. He pressed his cheek into your palm,

“Will I get. Another turn?” You couldn’t resist nodding, finding yourself thinking how cute he was, despite the fact he was still pressing you against a wall and had torn your shirt in two.

You watched the demon blink, his purple eyes closing and reopening with black pupils, brows furrowed in confusion as he stared into your eyes, blinking a few times as though he was trying to clear sleep from his vision. Lucanis’ breath quickened, immediately trying to assess the situation that he had just woken up in. “Did he hurt you?!” His tone was dripping in anxiety as he stepped away from you, your hand falling from his cheek as he hurriedly looked around.

His eyes moved down your body then back up, pausing before repeating the same thing, slower this time. The tips of his ears burned red as he realized what had happened as he unknowingly slept. “Mierda” He looked down at the buttons that lay around your feet.

It was impossible to not notice how he was straining against his slacks, his eyes everywhere but your gaze. “I-I sho- I should go” You wanted to stop him, grab him by the wrist before he was out of reach, but your mind was still foggy with lust and craving more of what Spite had been giving you, but this time you wanted to feel Lucanis’ lips against you.

You stood there for what felt like an hour but you knew it couldn’t have been that long, leaning back against the wall behind you, hoping the cool stone would help clear your thoughts and bring back some reason.

By the time you went to go find the Crow, the sky surrounding the Lighthouse had shifted to black, the pieces of debris still floating around the buildings as though it were as normal as clouds in the sky. As you climbed the rickety stairs that led to the top of the dining hall you glanced around the courtyard, trying to see if any of your companions were out. You expected to see Emmrick on the balcony of the main house where he so often went at night, taking note of the ethers in the Fade. But tonight there wasn’t a soul outside apart from you, Lucanis and Spite.

He stood at the far side of the roof, bent over the railing, his head hung down so his forehead was resting against his arm. No matter how quietly you approached him, he always knew you were there. You could tell he knew by the way his body stiffened, his shoulders tensing and his head moving so he was looking out over the courtyard.

He needed time, time to figure out what had just happened, how far things had gone, time for his unexpected erection to go away, and time away from your intoxicating scent. But of course you were coming up the wooden steps not long after him.

He tried to pull himself together, locking his eyes on the back of the wolf statue in the middle of the courtyard, the cool ‘night’ air was the only thing that was keeping his cheeks from turning pink again. You stood beside him silently, leaning over the edge of the building, taking in the view of the Lighthouse.

You could feel how uncertain he was, his hands clenched the railing, his posture even straighter than normal as he pretended like he was taking in the sights just as you were. The breeze reminded you of your open shirt, which you tried to hold close with one hand while the other pushed through your bangs in an attempt to ease your uncertainty. “I’m not sure what to say.” You laughed awkwardly, desperate to break the silence that stretched between the two of you.

“Then why say anything.”

“Because I’m worried if I don’t start talking, you might never speak to me again.” You hazarded a look at him from the corner of your eye, hoping to gauge his reaction to some extent, but it remained stoic.

The silence stretched on until the sky darkened even more, the colour the same shade of blue as the Crows’ armor when you first laid eyes on him. You fidgeted anxiously, changing positions over and over again as the time passed, until you had your back to the railing, head up looking for any kind of star above you. “I should have been more careful.” It almost sounded like the words were meant for himself rather than you, as though he were reprimanding himself.

“Why?”

“He could have hurt you…I…I could have hurt you.” You couldn’t stop the little scoff that slipped out, turning to look at him with a smile across your lips, meeting his eyes for the first time since Spite had relinquished control. “Is now really the time to laugh?”

“If you think I couldn’t take you in a fight, you’re sorely mistaken, Crow.” You watched his eyebrow raise, the corner of his mouth following, but only slightly.

“Are you trying to change the subject?”

“I don’t know,” You sidestepped, bringing your shoulders closer so you could nudge against him “Why, is it working?”

“This is serious, Rook.” He turned to face you, his hand on his hip as he shifted his weight. “I let my guard down, and you…he forced himself on you.”

“That’s the thing,” You stood up straight, turning to look at him fully while you rubbed at the back of your neck, knowing that the next thing out of your mouth had the potential to end your relationship before it had really started. “He didn’t force himself on me, he more…initiated it, I guess.” You watched his eyes narrow, his brow furrowing as he tried to piece together what you were saying. “I could have pushed him away if I wanted to.”

“But you didn’t?” There was an underlying disgust in his voice, as though the thought of being with him was so vile he couldn’t even pretend to understand.

“I didn’t.” The silence left as heavy as the weight of the world that seemed to live on your shoulders. He broke what little eye contact you had held, shifting his weight as he put more of his weight on the railing, his hair slipping from behind his ear.

“Why didn’t you?” His voice was quiet, if there had been even a bit of a breeze, you may have missed his question all together.

“Because I wanted it.” You watched his hands clenched into fists, his jaw tightening so you could see his teeth grind. “But I wanted it from you.”

“From me?” You couldn’t stop the small laugh that slipped from your lips at his clearly, surprised tone.

”Lucanis,” You leaned against the small wall, one hand on the railing the other perched on your hip. “This can’t possibly come as a surprise.” He looked over at you, cheeks just a hint of pink.

“I just- I didn’t know you wanted…that.” He dropped his eyes again but not before dragging along the sliver of bare skin he could see between the seams of your torn shirt.

And to think he had touched you, kissed you, dragged his hands down your bare skin, and didn’t get to enjoy even an ounce of it.

“Consider this your formal announcement that, Lucanis-“ You stepped closer to him, waiting a beat before he too straightened, turning to face you so you could press your forehead to his. “I desperately want exactly what Spite was doing. But I want to try it with you.” The only response you received was a low hum that you felt rubble from his chest and into yours as he grabbed your waist and tugged you against him.

#dragon age veilguard #dragon age lucanis #dragon age rook #lucanis romance #lucanis x reader #lucanis x rook #datv lucanis #da4 lucanis #lucanis dellamorte #spite dragon age #spite dellamorte #dragon age smut #lucanis smut

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gtgbabie0 · 5 months ago

Note

how do you think a marriage between cregan and a lannister daughter would go?

love ur writing! keep up the good work <33

-Cregan Stark x LannisterWife!Reader

Synopsis: {Your Lord husband seems to be the only one who can calm you}

For my other works my Masterlist is here <3

This is an old request but thank you nonetheless// hope you enjoy my lovelies💕

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You were a comely girl, always have been so it was no surprise that the Lord Stark had taken an interest in you during his time in the Red Keep- in which you were sent by members of your house to try and get your family back into the good books of the people in the court.

A feat you weren’t so successful in, having been turned away by numerous people or called horrid things behind your back sometimes plainly to your face. Every day spent at court was a blow to your pride, and gods did it make you a bitter person.

Cregan Stark found entertainment in your company, through his blunt banter and snarky remarks the way in which you would come back at him with all your might. Before he knew it he was completely infatuated with you and made an offer you simply couldn’t refuse, leaving Kings Landing.

Sometimes you regret ever accepting the damn deal.

“Get any closer and you’ll set that pretty blonde hair of yours on fire.” His rough voice breaks through the silence from his place at the desk where he had been reading through a couple of letters.

You roll your eyes, shuffling closer to the flames that crackle and snap within the hearth just in spite at the sound of his chuckle. He watches you closely, marvelling at how the warm orangey light of the flames splay across your face making your hair glow like fine threads of golden silk.

“Perhaps if it weren’t so cold then I wouldn’t have to sit this close.” You huff, pulling his furs that you had stolen over your shoulders.

“Winterfell is built upon a hot spring, the castle is plenty warm you’re just looking for an excuse to whine.” He says and you can practically hear the smirk that tugs on his handsome face.

You don’t answer him, instead letting silence and the soft sounds of the fireplace overtake your shared bedchambers however your lack of response doesn’t deter Cregan from continuing.

“You should wear something warmer than silks and airy dresses, my sweet.” The words are laced with amusement, he leans forward on his chair, resting his elbows on his knees, searching your unimpressed expression with his dark eyes.

“And wear dull shades greys?… no thank you.” You tell him, not wanting to accept the fact that perhaps there was slight truth to his words, still not meeting his gaze.

“So you’d rather freeze for the sake of what? Fashion? Very smart of you.” He replies sarcastically. “Especially for a Lannister, quite impressive my love.”

Your head snaps over to his direction, glaring up at him with narrowed eyes as he all but smirks back at you. He never failed to rile you up, bringing you to a burning point only to leave you all frustrated or worse— when he touches you in such a reverent way that makes you feel like a goddess, you couldn’t help but completely bend to his will. You swear he takes joy in bruising your pride.

He reaches over, brushing a curl of your hair behind your ear with a tenderness that he’s only ever shown to you and somehow just like that your anger ebbs away like snow underneath a summer's sun.

But you wouldn’t succumb that quickly and so you shrug off his hand, turning back to the fireplace with a small huff and he laughs because he knows- despite your little show- that he has you right where he wants you.

Cregan stands up from his chair, making his way over to a much more comfortable one that sits in front of the grand fireplace— closer to you. Despite how much you both clash at times he loves you, ever so dearly. He had defended you countless times back in Kings Landing and Winterfell, against anyone who dared try to speak poorly upon your name. Not just because of his marriage vows or honour, but because he sees you as you are not the hardened women the years had made of you.

There was a warmth to you, he’d seen it in glimpses. The way you care for his son as if he were your own, how you have your maids bring two cups of tea- one for him and one for you- to sate his sweet tooth.

You push yourself up from the floor, trying to distance yourself from him but he’s quick to catch your hips in his big hands. With a wolfish grin, he tugs you onto his lap and you accept defeat, it was too tiring to fight a man so headstrong.

“I’ll warm you up if you’re still cold.” He mumbles gruffly, wrapping his arms around your waist to hold you tightly against his chest.

The warmth from his study body melts away the tension between your shoulder blades and you can’t help but sigh in contentment, leaning against him as he tugs you impossibly closer to him.

His hands caress the curve of your hips, looking up at you with a lazy smile. “I am still a little cold, I wouldn’t mind.” You reply playfully, trailing your fingertips along his cheek in small patterns.

“Ah, there she is…” Cregan whispers, relishing at the sight of your smile that you try so hard to fight off.

“Yes, yes, marvel whilst you can, it won’t last long.” The words make Cregan chuckle, his hands mapping out the outline of your body, caressing along your ribcage.

“Then I shall marvel with all my heart.” He promises, pressing a kiss against your shoulder, then another to your jaw. The wispy hairs of his beard tickle your skin as he nuzzles against you on purpose.

A pleasured hum escapes you by accident and by the way he smirks against your neck you can tell he’s holding back some sort of snarky comment, instead choosing to savour this moment and the way you lean into his touch.

He takes his time, showering your shoulders in kisses- trailing his lips up to the soft curve of your jaw and pushing the furs that drape over your shoulders off until they’re sitting on the floor leaving you in just a thin silky dress.

“What’s gotten you in such a mood, huh?” Cregan asks, leaning back against the cushioned sofa to really drink in the sight of you perched upon his lap.

You shrug your shoulders, lacing your fingers with his own. “I feel out of place, more so than often.” The words send an ache through his chest, his brows immediately furrowing at the confession.

It wasn’t a new thing for him to hear, however, that never made it any easier. Cregan remembers the first night you arrived in the North, the tears— gods, you were inconsolable. He understood why, the place was far from home and the people were hardened by the cold weather and then there was you… the complete opposite in every way, that’s why he spent all night whispering words of comfort and holding you.

“Silly girl, come here.” He says, coaxing you to lay against his chest and without hesitation, you curl up into him, your head resting on his shoulder as his fingers brush through your silken hair. “I’d have no one else by my side except you, my girl, understand?” He whispers, pressing a kiss against your hairline.

You nod against his shoulder, melting against him with a small sigh. “Mhm, of course, I do.” Your words are muffled against the soft fabric of his tunic, the smell of firewood and leather clinging to him- it was comforting, like home.

Cregan tilts your head upwards slightly, his gaze softening as he admires your face. “Don’t doubt the place you have in my heart… ever.” He tells you with a loving tone, so soft and caring, before leaning down to steal a delicate kiss from your lips.

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wh1msic4lwasab1 · 5 months ago

Text

⋆⁺₊❅. “Give you...whatever you need!"⋆⁺₊❅.

synopsis: being the captains assistant ;)

tags: lots of possessiveness, manipulation (?), power dynamics, dom capitano, vulgar, explicit, fingering, facefucking, begging, degradation, penetration, creampie, you get the gist

wrd cnt: 2.5k

a/n: doja cat pls release generous ( lyrics from the song as title) and my life is YOURS… also partly inspired by the azeru audio….

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Droplets of a custom blend of his favorite drink, warm and slightly sweet hit the bottom of a porcelain cup.

It was just something you did, something you knew The Captain liked and as his assistant, routinely did.

This particular evening it was as if everyone in the nation needed you. A task, an errand, or just had to stop you in your tracks to his quarters for some idle chat.

It must have been several minutes longer than when he was expecting you, which was far too long to keep the Captain waiting; occupied against your will.

His tea was cold by now.

Finally, you ran over to his door. The runway-like carpet ending and small tiles lining the entryway to his office, guarded and sealed.

But you were a regular.

The guard knocked on the door, “Sir, your assistant has returned” he announced, waiting for an answer.

It took a few seconds, but you could hear a faint “Let her in”.

You sigh deeply and watch the giant doors open and shut behind you as you walk into the dimly lit room, only candles and small lamps lit across the table and crackling fireplace that remained behind The Captain’s seated body.

“Over and Over. I must have called you a thousand times? More or less.” He spoke, his voice clear even through the steel mask that adorned his face.

“I’m so sorry-“ You quickly respond, placing the cup on the edge of his desk and folding your hands together. “I got caught up with some others- a few harbingers as well needed my assistance.”

He straightened his legs, now standing in front of you, making you back up just slightly due to his large frame.

“It’s as if you’ve forgotten who you serve.” He said, the point of his gauntlet nail scratching the edge of your jaw and trailing down to your chin.

“Who kept you so long?” He asked, quickly adding “Never mind. Don’t tell me, I’d rather not know.”

You have trouble knowing where to look. Not wanting to cause any more trouble for yourself.

“Now that you’re here…maybe we should get started. You’ll probably need to stay overnight.” He mentioned.

You nod, agreeably to not seem like you’re eager to leave.

You sorted out all the intel Capitano had been collecting. There were piles of data, equipment, maps, and so much more. You were the only person he’d let touch them. It was common for you to stay late, as work never seems to dry out. It was also common for you to be whatever he wanted you to be. Errand runner, liaison…or his toy to let out his frustrations.

Everyone sees The Captain for what he puts on. Respectable and professional.

Most of the fatui honestly confess to enjoying working for him, as he has been much kinder than the others.

He can be, but he has his limits.

How can he be so kind to you when you’re late? You dared to keep him waiting.

“This is unlike you.” He says, noticing you yawn as you flip through the pages.

You blink your eyes a second too long, “Oh- I’m sorry I haven’t gotten much sleep, but I can keep working! Please don’t worry”. You assure.

“ I’m not worried, not for myself anyway.” He adds, kicking his feet up on the edge of the desk.

“Come here.” He urges you, forcing you to get off your small little table in the corner to his desk.

He flicks just one finger and you follow, taunting you to his lap.

“Yes- Captain?” You feel your throat get dry as you sit on his thigh, big enough to count as a seat.

“Is there anything…you need from me?” You ask, insinuating a more personal form of assistance.

He hikes his foot up higher on the table, creating a steep slope of his legs that drags you down and forces you into the crook of your lap, hands instinctively hitting his chest for balance.

“This isn’t for me. I think we need to wake you up.”

You felt a small shiver run up your spine when his hands landed on your hips, “How else will you finish all your work?” He adds.

You let out a small sigh as you felt his steel-clad fingers wrapping around your sides as if your ribs were now armored.

He slowly dragged them down your stomach, small points sliding down the sides of your thighs making you arch your back and grind onto his lap, earning a chuckle from him.

With swift motion, he grabs your throat; dropping his mask on the floor and letting it roll off somewhere.

Your body tenses, and you can see the most faint glimpses of his face; still hidden under the darkness of the room.

Deep and rich, he speaks to you, “Take off your clothes.”

Almost as if he’d conditioned your mind, you do so with no complaints.

He even helps, tugging up your shirt with the finger tip of his gauntlets as you pull it off. As your shirt falls to the floor, you stand before him in just your bra and skirt, your heart pounding in your chest. He doesn't waste any time, his hands moving to your back, deftly unhooking your bra with practiced ease. The straps slide down your arms, and your breasts spill free, bouncing lightly as they are finally released. His eyes darken as he takes in the sight of you, exposed and vulnerable.

"Good girl," he murmurs, his voice dripping with approval. "Now the rest."

You slip your skirt down, letting it pool at your feet, and step out of it.

You stand there, naked and vulnerable, your breath hitching as Capitano's fingers trace the curve of your hips. His touch is firm yet deliberate, each movement sending shivers down your spine. Shadows play across his muscular frame, making him appear even more imposing as he pulls you back onto his lap, each leg now dangling off his sides.

"Spread your legs," he commands, his voice low and gravelly. The steel in his tone leaves no room for disobedience.

You hesitate for a brief moment, but the intensity in his dark blue eyes compels you to comply. You part your thighs, positioning yourself in his lap. The heat between your legs is almost unbearable, a stark contrast to the cool air brushing against your exposed skin. He reaches out, his fingers brushing against your folds, another hand squeezing your breasts between his thumb and forefinger. You gasp, arching into his touch, your body betraying how much you crave his attention.

"Please..." you whisper, your voice barely audible, but he hears you.

He leans forward, his mouth closing around your nipple, suckling hard enough to make you cry out.

His teeth graze the tender flesh, sending waves of pleasure and pain coursing through you.

You grip his shoulders, your nails digging into the tough material of his armor, as he moves to your other breast, repeating the process. Each pull of his lips, each scrape of his teeth, makes you shudder, your body responding eagerly to his rough ministrations.

"Captain..." you moan, your voice breaking as he continues his assault on your senses and his gentle strokes around your inner thigh, purposefully ignoring your sensitive pearl.

He pulls back, leaving you panting and desperate for more. His eyes glint with satisfaction as he watches you struggle to catch your breath. "Turn around," he orders, his voice firm and commanding.

You obey, swinging your leg over and turning your back to him…well, it’s more of him picking up your entire weight and shifting you into position.

As you automatically reach for the edge of the desk to steady yourself, he lifts himself off his seat, stepping close to your body, his presence looming behind you, his heat radiating against your bare skin. You feel his hands on your ass, squeezing the globes roughly, spreading them apart to expose your most intimate parts. Your breath hitches as you anticipate what's coming next.

"Look at you," he growls, his voice thick with desire. "So ready for me." He adds, flicking his arm down to release his hand from the gauntlet, thudding on the floor just as his last piece of equipment.

“Is this what you were thinking about in that little corner of yours?” He teases.

His fingers trail down, skin grazing the crease where your thighs meet your ass, dipping lower until they brush against your wet folds. You gasp, your knees buckling slightly as he slips one finger inside you, probing deeply. You clench around him, your muscles instinctively tightening, drawing him deeper.

"You're so, so wet," he murmurs, his finger sliding in and out of you, slowly building up speed. "Such a good girl."

Your head falls forward, your forehead resting on the cool surface of the desk as you ride out the sensations he's unleashing on your body. His cold finger flicks against your clit, making you jerk and whimper, your hips swaying involuntarily as you try to get more friction. "Beg for it," he demands, removing his finger and resting it on your hips.

"Please... Captain, please," you beg, your voice shaking with need. "I want more... I need you..."

He chuckles, the sound vibrating against your sensitive flesh. "Not yet," he says, "But soon."

You whine in protest, your body aching for release, but he grabs your hips.

"On your knees," he commands, his voice leaving no room for argument.

You drop to your knees, your hands trembling as you reach for his belt, unbuckling it quickly. You undo his pants, pushing them down to reveal his hardened length, already glistening with pre-cum.

You lick your lips, your mouth watering at the sight of him.

"Take me in your mouth," he orders, his hands gripping your hair tightly. "Show me how much you want it."

You obey, wrapping your lips around his throbbing cock, sucking gently as you take him deep into your throat. He groans, his hands tightening in your hair as you bob your head up and down, your tongue swirling around him with each pass. You can feel him twitching in your mouth, his hips thrusting gently to meet your movements.

"Fuck... yes," he mutters, his voice strained with effort. "Suck it like you mean it."

You redouble your efforts, taking him deeper, your throat convulsing around him as you gag slightly.

He tastes amazing, salt and iron, the essence of his power and dominance filling your senses. You hollow your cheeks, sucking hard as you stroke the base of his shaft with your hand, listening to the sounds of his grunts and moans above you.

"That's it," he praises, his fingers digging into your scalp. "Just like that... almost there...you’re working so hard"

His pace quickens, his thrusts becoming more erratic, his breathing heavy and labored. You know he's close, can feel the tension building in him, and you work harder, your jaw aching from the effort.

Suddenly, he lets out a low growl, his fingers yanking your head back as he comes, his hot seed flooding your mouth.

You swallow dutifully, licking him clean as he pulls out of your mouth, his chest heaving with exertion.

He looks down at you, his eyes dark with lust, and smirks. "Up," he commands, his voice still hoarse from his orgasm.

You do as told, standing up and facing him, your legs shaky from being on your knees for so long. He grabs your wrist, yanking you towards the desk, and pushes you onto it, your chest pressing against the cool wood. You gasp, your nipples rubbing against the rough surface, sending jolts of sensation through your body.

He kneels behind you, his hands roaming over your ass, squeezing and caressing the flesh before diving between your legs once more. His fingers find your drenched entrance, slipping inside with ease, pumping in and out with increasing speed.

You moan, your head falling back as his other hand circles your clit, rubbing it furiously.

"That’s it…keep making those sounds," he whispers, "So fucking wet for me. You need more, don’t you?”

You nod, unable to form words, your body consumed by the pleasure he's giving you. His rough hands continue to pleasure you, painting your ass red with just a single slap.

“Answer me.” He says, waiting for your begging voice before pressing his hard length into your ass.

“Yes- please….please Capitano.” You whimper.

You can almost feel the smirk that’s plastered on his face behind you. He lines himself up, his tip teasing your entrance, dipping just enough to coat himself in your slick arousal. You shiver at the contact, your body tensing in anticipation. Then, without warning, he presses forward, his cock sliding partway into your tight channel before pausing.

"Relax," he commands, his voice firm. "Give yourself to me completely."

You try to relax, breathing deeply, but the stretch is overwhelming. His hands grip your hips tightly, holding you steady as he begins to push deeper, filling you inch by agonizing inch. You bite your lip to stifle a cry, your muscles clenching around him as he forces his way inside.

"That's it," he whispers, his voice strained. "Take it all, my little slut."

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he's buried deep inside you, his balls pressed against your ass. You gasp, overwhelmed by the sensation, by the fullness, by the sheer dominance of his presence within you. It's almost too much, but somehow, it's exactly what you need.

Capitano doesn't wait for you to adjust. With a low growl, he pulls back until only his tip remains, then thrusts forward again, his hips slamming into yours with bruising force. You cry out, your hands clutching at the desk for support as he claims you over and over again. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body, making your head spin and your vision blur.

"Fuck, you feel good," he grunts, his voice rough with exertion. "So tight, so perfect."

His pace quickens, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more desperate. He fucks into your at a monstrous pace, your body going limp. He picks you up, holding your neck firm from behind.

“Arch your fucking back.” He growls, roughly handling you into position. You can feel the tension building in him, the same tension that's coiling inside you, tightening with every thrust, every caress. You're close, so close, but he's not done with you yet.

He leans over you, his chest pressing against your back, his lips brushing against your ear. "Look at me," he commands, his voice a low rumble.

You obey, turning your head to meet his gaze. His eyes are wild, filled with lust and possession. He looks at you as if you're his world, his everything, and in this moment, you believe it.

"You're mine," he whispers, “Anytime another person- another damn harbinger calls for you- shit” He groans, “…tell them to fuck off. Captain’s order?” his voice thick with emotion. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, I will-!" you breathe, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

His hand slides down to your clit again, his fingers rubbing in fast, desperate circles. The added stimulation pushes you over the edge, and you scream his name as you come undone, your body convulsing around his cock. He follows right behind you, his release crashing over him like a tidal wave, filling you with his warmth.

You’ve never served Capitano with a cold cup of tea again.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

#jo’s posts #genshin imagines #genshin scenarios #genshin #genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #capitano #the captain #fatui harbingers #fatui headcanons #genshin capitano #genshin capitano smut #capitano smut #smut

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augustinewrites · 7 months ago

Text

synopsis: wriothesley always knows exactly what you need.

building a home in fontaine’s countryside was the best decision that you and wriothesley had made. the privacy was your main reason for moving out here, where your home is hidden away from eyes that pry, tucked safely underneath the linden trees.

of course, there are a lot of things about your house that you love. the ivy that wraps around its walls, the acres of land for gardening and raising animals, or just to sit within and admire. you love the warmth of the fireplace on cool nights and the south-facing windows that let golden sunlight fill the room. you love this home because you built it together (with the help of your friends).

but your absolute favourite piece in your home has to be the clawfoot bathtub. deep enough to nearly reach your shoulders, long enough to stretch your legs across. sinking into a bath in this gorgeous tub was the perfect way to end a long week.

you’re preparing a bath now, trussing it up with bath salts, essential oils, some bubbles. candles for ambiance. the setting sun was still bright enough to bounce soft light around the room, but you liked the warm glow candles provided.

the only thing left now was to strip out of your work clothes. you toss them in the basket, rolling your eyes as you pick up a stray sock that seemed to just miss the basket last night.

“unbelievable,” you mutter with a shake of your head as you grab the stem of your wine glass, cradling it into your chest as you climb into the tub and slowly lower yourself into the warm water. the second you lean back against the ceramic you instantly begins to relax. the tensions from the work week are already beginning to drift away in a heavenly haze of lavender scented steam and bubbles. it’s just you, your wine, and a quiet evening.

the sound of the front door being thrown open jolts you out of your daze. you nearly spill your wine when you sit upright, body alert at the thought of an intruder.

your husband calls your name.

“bathroom!” you call back, releasing a relieved sigh as you sink back into the water. you hear his heavy footsteps quickly make their way across the cottage. he’s home early today.

wriothesley appears in the doorway, lopsided smile on his face as he already begins loosening his tie, stepping into the bathroom. “don’t you look relaxed.”

you simply hum in response, smiling up at him. at least until he pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it in the general direction of the basket.

“wrio,” you pout as his trousers suffer the same fate. “your stuff goes in the basket. not in the area around it.”

“they’ll get there eventually,” he shrugs, gesturing for you to scoot up. “don’t want the water to get cold.”

so much for a quiet evening.

“you know, the purpose of the bigger bath was so that we wouldn’t be squished together like this,” you mutter as he slides into the water behind you, tucking himself snugly against your back and settling his chin in the crook of your neck

“maybe i just like being pressed up against you,” he says, placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder. “i do like having a bigger bath for our…activities though.”

you roll your eyes, and wriothesley makes up for his lewd insinuations when his hands start working at the knots in your shoulders. “wanna tell me what you’re doing home so early? i usually have to tear you away from your desk for the weekend.”

“promise you won’t freak out?” he sighs, digging his fingers into a particularly large knot at the base of your neck. it’s a trap and you know this, but it just feels so good.

“wriothesley–” you start.

his fingers move under your chin, tilting your head toward him so you’re eye to eye. “i may have left clorinde in charge so i could take a few days off.” before you can get a word out, he swallows your argument with a kiss.

“wait,” you sputter. “how many days did you take off?”

“three days starting tomorrow,” he answers quickly, leaning in for another kiss. you place a soap-covered hand on his mouth and push his face away, ignoring his confused noises.

“you can’t take that many days off, we have the finance meeting with neuvillette on monday,” you remind him, scooting to the opposite end of the tub to avoid any more distracting touches. “i can’t go by myself–”

“ah,” he interrupts, rubbing the back of his neck. “i may have signed off on a few days off for you too.”

“what?!” you yell, but it’s more like a shriek. “don’t you remember what happened last time you left clorinde in charge? the infirmary–”

“i told her she can’t hit them this time!”

you huff, bubbles floating through the air as you cross your arms over your chest. you’re surprised he’d take so much time off before an important meeting.

“come on,” he urges, that sneaky smile you hate to love still playing on his lips as he leans forward in the water. you feel his hand grip your ankle, barely lifting your leg above the water, thumbs rubbing firm circles into the pad of your foot. “i’m not trying to get out of anything. i just want to spend some more time with you.”

you have to admit, he looks absolutely irresistible right now. The way the warm sunset bounced off the rivulets of water dripping down the planes of his chest painted a very pretty picture for you to look at as he massaged your tired muscles.

and he’s right. the two of you have been busy lately, sneaking quick kisses when you pass him in the hall or hiding away for a moment before one of you is called for.

his skilled fingers work their way up your calf, soothing the muscles you used to walk around the infirmary. You lean your head back, letting your eyes slip closed as he starts describing your weekend off in a low voice that makes heat creep up to your cheeks.

“it’ll just be me and you all weekend. We’ll lay in bed all morning, then i’ll make you a special brunch–” you crack one eye open to send him a wary look. “okay, you got me. i’ll order us a special brunch. then we’ll have a picnic out in the yard, maybe do some fishing at the dock…”

okay, you’re sold. a restful weekend with your love sounds perfect.

“well, as long as you’re prepared for the– ah,” you gasp, shuddering as his fingers travel up past your knee. “wriothesley, what are you–”

“shh, just giving you another preview of what you’re in for this weekend,” he laughs, fingers grazing your inner thigh. “let me help you relax, love.”

#wriothesley x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #wriothesley x you #wriothesley fluff

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lavandulawrites · 7 months ago

Text

Undeserving

Yandere Zhongli x reader

Zhongli is definitely a terrifying yandere.

Synopsis: Zhongli takes it upon himself to rid the world of those who sin

Masterlist

Warnings: explicit violence,torn limbs, kinda gory, Zhongli is very possessive, Zhongli is completely feral, reader is not directly involved with any of the violence

Word count: 2223

Zhongli had always seen himself as a reasonable man. Even before he had taken on the name Zhongli. He valued respect and honour. Zhongli had always held a fondness for contracts and their power. He often preferred to negotiate rather than fighting. It was more proper after all.

It was however in moments like this, his polished appearance faltered and revealed the beast within that had slain many.

His glowed fingers loosened his tie before he elegantly slipped off his leather gloves. He placed both his tie and his gloves on the mantle on the unlit fireplace. He slowly turned to face the sinner that sat on his newly bought antique armchair. Zhongli’s skin crawled at the sight of that vermin who had made himself extremely comfortable in his beloved chair.

The man whose name was Haoyu sipped on a cup of pipping hot tea. He showed no care for Zhongli’s possessions and handled the cup with much carelessness.

Zhongli clenched his fists behind his back. Though a dragon was only one of his many forms, his bloodlust was still ever present. His fanged teeth clenched together as he recalled the days he had used those teeth to tear out his enemies throats. No matter what kind of form Zhongli took, his golden reptile like eyes and his long sharp fangs was something he never managed to conceal.

He walked over to the chair which was opposite of Haoyu’s. His steps no different from a stalking predator. With elegance he sat down and crossed his legs. He leaned back in his chair as he picked up his own cup of tea. He inhaled the aroma and sighed him delight at the delicious smell. The tea hot and intense as it filled his throat.

“Do you have any ideas for your brother’s funeral? Or any specific wishes for the ceremony?” he asked the black haired man.

Haoyu rubbed his goatee while he drummed his fingers on the armrest. “I don’t have any specific wishes. I just want to have him buried as fast as possible. I am a busy man you see” his voice had the same pitch as that of an squealing pig.

“I see” Zhongli nodded. “As for payment, the director wants to know when you are able to pay” he continued with an almost bored voice.

“Soon. I just need to make sure my next business deal goes well. So maybe in a week or two. Two is more likely” the bearded man shrugged.

Zhongli’s golden eyes narrowed before he chuckled. “Director Hu Tao needs the payment before Friday, meaning in three days. I have told you so many times” his smiled forced. The director of the funeral parlour was a remarkable young woman. Her youthfulness made Zhongli almost feel young again and he enjoyed her company. He acted as her counsellor and a kind of guardian. Though the guardian part was something that had happened over time.

Zhongli’s appearance was youthful and he looked somewhere in his early to mid thirties. Despite that, his wisdom was greater than all of the elderly in the city combined. He knew that Hu Tao suspected that he wasn’t human, but he never addressed it.

“I don’t think I will be able to” the middle aged man shrugged. He sipped more of his tea and didn’t notice how he spilled some on his shirt.

The former geo archon’s eyes turned cold. His finger stabbing the inside of his palms. “You will have to find a way. We can’t propound the payment any longer.”

Haoyu sighed. “Don’t be so difficult! I’m sure you’ll be able to do something” he winked his goat like eyes at the brunette.

Zhongli felt offended at the ugliness that sat in front of him. “No. I am not able to ‘do something’” his voice monotone. If Zhongli wanted to, he would be able to convince Hu Tao to propound the payment, but he did not feel like doing so.

The man sneered. “Fine” he groaned like the pig he was. He downed the last of his tea and slammed it onto the newly polished mahogany table.

Zhongli’s eyes twitched at the blatantly rudeness. He took a deep breath before he rose to his feet. “I remember I told you about my collection of tableware. I should give you a tour before you leave” he smiled politely at the irritated man.

Haoyu’s frown quickly turned into a smile. “Oh I would love that” he stood up and stretched his limbs, nearly knocking down his teacup from the table.

Zhongli led him to the room where he kept his various collections. Rows upon rows of tea seats filled one of the long walls. Haoyu stopped in front of a delicate purple clay teapot. He lifted it up from its shelf and studied it closely.

Zhongli closed his eyes in annoyance, but continued to play the part of a good host. He showed him his various treasures and Haoyu was overjoyed by the different riches.

Zhongli followed Haoyu out to the hallway. “Before you leave, I want to ask you something” his voice polite.

Haoyu raised an eyebrow. “Alright. Go on.”

Zhongli ignore his rude tone yet again. “I have heard that you are good acquaintances with [Name]” his voice as calm as still water.

The man smirked at his words. “Yeah, you could say that… She’s quite the looker” he laughed. His fat fingers clasped together.

Zhongli reminded silent. He’s face similar to his many statues that were scattered over the country.

At the taller man’s silence, Haoyu raised his brow. “Why are you asking?”

Zhongli walked towards a painting of a bamboo forest. His back facing Haoyu. “I do not like it when people get their greedy hands on what’s mine. It angers me. And very much so” his voice had a sharp edge to it.

He turned slowly to face him. “You are a foul man. You lack both tact and elegance” his diamond shaped pupils small in disgust. He stalked towards him with slow steps.

Haoyu slumped his shoulders at Zhongli’s fury. He gulped loudly as his back hit the wall.

“You are not worthy of [Name’s] presence. She has told me countless times that she finds you revolting” his rage cold in his veins as he looked down at the man who had sinned the greatest sin of all. His cold golden gaze flickered down to the man’s hands. The very hands that had touched his beloved.

“I-I promise to never speak to her or touch her ever again!” Haoyu uttered as he slumped even further together. His legs were shaking in fear.

His stuttering a clear sign of his cowardice and Zhongli found it humorous how his brutish façade was just only that: a façade.

The adeptus’ entire body was filled with the want, need, to spill the blood of the man who had crossed him. He flex his hands along his side and felt the welcoming power of geo that flowed through his veins. He raised his hand in a quick motion as he wrapped it around Haoyu’s neck. He slammed his head against his wall, not caring about his expensive wallpaper.

“All sinners must pay for their sins. You are no different” he spat. Zhongli’s eyes glowed a golden hue which was the main telltale sign of his non-humanity.

Haoyu desperately tried to defend himself, but the strong hand that held his neck only tightened. The sound of his struggling breath was music to his ears.

“Be quiet” was all he said before he dropped the man.

The bearded man quickly crawled towards the front door before Zhongli brought his foot down and kicked him in his ribs. The sound of bones creaking brought a small smile to the former archon’s face.

Haoyu screamed as snoot and tears streamed down his disgusting face. He loudly prayed to be saved by Rex Lapis.

Zhongli scoffed before he brought his foot at the nap of Haoyu’s neck. He pressed down, earning a cry from the black haired man. “Take his name out of your filthy mouth” he sneered.

He manifested his spear and pointed it towards the man who laid in a kneeling position on the floor. The pointed tip, glittering in the light. His polearm had been his trusted companion throughout many years.

“Get up” his tone dominating.

Haoyu scrambled up to his legs and clutched his side in pain. His dark eyes looked up at Zhongli in fear.

Zhongli raised his spear before he brought it down to Haoyu’s left shoulder. The spear pierced his flesh and made contact with the bone. Red blood splattered on the hardwood floor. Haoyu screamed in pain.

“AGH! Fuck! HELP! SOMEBODY HELP!” he screamed as he tried to stop the bleeding with his fat hand.

The brunette laughed at his pitiful cries. “No one will help you. They cannot hear you on the outside” his lips twisted up into a cruel smile. He had used adeptal arts to completely soundproof his home.

He stalked towards his prey and stopped right in front of him. His polished shoes soaking in blood. He sneered in disgust.

He rose his empty hand. His finger tips turned into claws which he used to slash through the neck of the sinner in front of him. Haoyu gurgled on his blood as he desperately clutched his throat. His eyes wet as they pleaded to the god in front of him.

Zhongli brought his bloodied hand before him. Torn skin was attached to his long black claws. He shook his hand and sent the skin flying towards Haoyu.

With a splat the skin landed on his forehead which resulted in him throwing up. Vomit spewed out from his mouth and the gaping hole in his throat. The sight was disgusting and Zhongli felt even more offended. The smell of vomit reached his strong nose and he crushed his inhuman sense of smell.

He reattached his claws and sat his spear neatly against the wall behind him. He crouched down to the dying man’s level. His godly eyes scanning his. “You brought this upon yourself” was all he said.

Long elegant fingers wrapped around Haoyu’s left arm. Zhongli waited till he was sure he was sure he paid attention. He then ripped his arm off with no effort. The tearing sound echoed in the hallway. Blood gushed from the open wound. It was going to be long before he died from blood loss. Zhongli tossed the arm away before he stood up.

“Stand” he commanded.

Haoyu struggled like a newborn fawn, but managed to stand. His appearance similar to that of a mangled corpse than a living human.

Zhongli brought his hand up to his chest. The power of geo poured out from his every pores and onto the man in front of him.

Slowly, but surely his chest turned into stone. Haoyu screamed as loudly as his damaged vocal cords let him. Zhongli was sure to be slow. It was important for him to feel the pain as long as he could.

His harsh eyes met the gaping hole in his throat. Tendons clearly visible. His vocal cords looked rather teared as well as his Adam’s apple which was completely damaged.

“You should apologise for your unkempt appearance” Zhongli had no humanity left in neither his voice nor eyes.

He reattached his hand. He made sure to make proper eye contact with Haoyu before he curled his hand into a fist. His fist drove into his face. Before he knew it, his fist had made a complete hole. Haoyu’s body fell limp against the floor. His face completely gone and replaced by a through hole. Brain matter covered the wall and stained his beautiful wallpaper.

Zhongli scoffed at the mess. He pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and willed his hands. Th white pure fabric quickly turned grimy.

He was yet again glad for the adeptal art he was the father off. With a snap of his finger the whole hallway was clean. The hardwood floors no longer coated in warm sticky blood and the wallpaper no longer stained. The body was turned into stone which quickly turned into sand.

He brought a broom and cleaned the sand up.

He would sprinkle the sand in the garden in Haoyu’s family house.

He sat down on his armchair and breathed out. He was content with his work. The only thing missing was you by his side. He picked up the contract he had written. He would encourage you to write your name on it. Then your fate would be sealed and he would finally be able to sleep peacefully with you by his side. With Haoyu and the others who had been close to you out of the picture, it was only the two of you.

Just as it should be.

He took a sip of the rich wine and let the the liquid swirl around in his mouth. A soft smile formed on his lips. He had had the adepti make a beautiful red wedding dress with gold embroidered into the silky fabric. You would make a beautiful bride and he would do everything in order to protect you. He would even take his role as an archon again if the situation called for it.

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cheriladycl01 · 4 months ago

Text

Kinktober 05/10/2024 Sebastián Vettel - 69

Plot: Sebastian always gets so frustrated racing Mark Webber, but he always has you to come home to and relieve those frustrations.

Warnings: Kinktober SMUT 69ing, oral (both m and f receiving), 18+ Minors DNI

It was just another one of those races. Where team orders didn’t come in and he was left riding behind Mark Webber. He had to share a podium in P2 with Mark and Lewis.

He was angry, as he was fighting for a championship and the way Mark was driving, in his opinion was unsafe and deliberately trying to cause a crash.

And too top the race weekend off, you were even there. You weren’t there to watch his half arsed podium celebration. You weren’t there to congratulate him after the race and you weren’t in his hotel room afterwards.

Admittedly it wasn’t you’re fault, you also had a very demanding job just like your fiancé and that meant you couldn’t be at every single race even though you tried.

So after a lousy night in the hotel where he was moping about, he eventually got on his flight back to Switzerland and made the drive from the airport to your shared home.

“Schatz? Are you home?” He shouted into the warm and cozy place he called home. He didn’t know why he asked if you were home as there were telltale signs you were.

The warm fireplace crackling away, the half drunk glass of red wine on the coffee table, your book left open on the sofa and the blanket in a scrunched up ball as if you’d just gotten out of your blanket cocoon that he always seemed to find you in whenever he came home to you.

“Ahhhhh Seb!” You cry running from another room and towards him. You pull him into a big hug, standing up on your tip-toes to kiss his lips.

“Mmmmm I missed you and your warmth” he said nuzzling into you, refusing to let go.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there this weekend, I know you’re frustrated with the team and how the race concluded, but you still got some good points, you took fastest lap and you’re still leading the championship” you smile kissing along his jaw, and you slowly feel some of the tension release. He had a nasty habit for unconsciously grinding his teeth, but as you kissed across his jaw you felt that relax.

“Mmmm im still kind of frustrated though Meine Taube” he admits, his thumbs rubbing circles on your clothes hips as he looks down at you with that look in his eyes that you know all to well.

“Not tonight, you look tired. Let’s head to bed, hmmmm? And tomorrow I’m all yours” you try convince him it’s better for him to sleep all the tension off tonight and you guys once refreshed and awake tomorrow can have fun.

“I haven’t seen you in a week and you’re denying me?” He asks with a smirk and a raised eyebrow, an almost glimmer of a challenge in his eyes.

“Because you must be tired from the race and the flight” you say softly.

“I’m never tired for you. All I want right now is for you to sit in my face” he says nipping at your earlobe before looking over your flushed cheeks.

“Wanna taste you” he says as he starts to nip away at your jaw as his wondering hands starts to unbutton the jeans you’re wearing. Once the button and zip are undone his hand dips down to rub your clit through your underwear, where he can already feel a wet sport forming.

God he was hoping they were light grey or light pink. Something that showed the wet spot as that always made him that little bit harder. He loved to see how he made you feel, as it was all him.

“Argh Seb, please” you beg looking up at him with those big eyes of yours that could have him melt on the coldest day of the year.

He moves you both to the floor in-front of the fireplace, as he pulls your jeans off slowly kissing down your legs as he unveils more and more skin and then finally your jumper. You shiver at the cold a little, before the cracking fire can be felt on your back.

Seb starts to strip off himself before he lays down on the fluffy fur rug that of course he’d strategically placed in-front of the fireplace for moments just like these ones.

“You know where to go” he says and before you know it you’re climbing on top of him, facing away. You hover over his face, one hand holding you up on the rug for support while the other starts to rub up and down on his hardened length.

As much as Seb loved it, you hated putting your full body weight on his face when he asked you to sit in it. So you’d always hover and wait until he pulled you into a position he was comfortable at. His hand came up to your hips and in seconds you were pulled down so you were flush against him. At first his nose was pushing against your clit until he moved forward so it was more his chin that was putting pressure that.

Soft moans left your mouth as his tongue started to dip in and out licking wet strips up and down and doing exactly what he knew you liked.

One you were comfortable enough to relax your weight onto Seb some more your own mouth came down around his top sucking lightly on the head before licking up the underside where the strong and prominent vein was. You licked over the slit a few times, little delicate touches here and there before your mouth started to fully get you work.

With Sebastian it always felt like an exercise because of his sheer girth. Your mouth struggled to fully let him in without some teeth scrapping against him, but it’s something with you that he’d come to love as you were so careful and for the most time it was all your mouth and tongue doing the work but when you moaned or lost concentration he’d feel that slight little scrape that had his hips thrusting up and forcing his dick further into your mouth.

You were accustomed to this kind of love with Seb, he would normally be too tired for full on sex when he came back from a race weekend after a long flight especially if it was in Asia or America and the time difference was as messing with him. So you mouth and throat had slowly started to learn what worked best for both his pleasure and to make you still be able to breath and not have that gag reflex.

His tongue was darting in and out of you, his hands still holding your hips, but you’d slowly started to rock against his face to get some more friction and you could practically feel his smirk against you.

“So beautiful, I could eat you up all day everyday. The only meal I want to enjoy” he groan into you a long and loud moan coming from you thanks to the vibrations of his low and raspy voice.

The feeling shot straight up your spine and pooled into your stomach a familiar sensations looming.

“Seb, fuck please” you said as you came up for a breath, your hand accounting for the sensations he’s lost from your mouth as your fist him speeding up your movements. Once you’ve got enough of a break your mouth starts again, your hands focusing on keeping pressure on the base squeezing firmly once in a while making his hips thrust up and throaty moans come from him.

The tension is building for both of you. His hips getting more frantic and the fact that your thighs have tightened around his head and your body basically laying on top of him, your boobs pressed up against his stomach.

“Oh Leibling” he moans into you and your vision is clouded, as that tight coil in your stomach unravels and your releasing, Seb doesn’t waist a chance to lap it all up, the pressure causing your legs to shake.

Your teeth accidentally scrape the underside of his dick, causing his to release into your mouth, his release hitting the back of your throat so suddenly you nearly choke.

Your mouth comes up, a string of saliva mixed with cum connecting the two of you as you swallow what was left in your mouth, the salty taste sitting with you.

You climb off of him, turning round to see the bottom half of his face covered in a sheen that was most definitely from you.

“How about a shower, and then bed?” He asks with a blissed out and relaxed look on his face. And you can’t help but feel a sense of overwhelming love that you have from this man, and can’t help but be grateful that you are his sense of safety and relaxation.

“Mmmmm I think I’d like that” you smile and nod.

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