#she said she used to touch and feel only with her fingertips

[dulcidyne]

On the Care and Grooming of Gentleman Necromancers

Rook x Emmrich Volkarin/ /Rating: T/ / Spoilers: None

“Manfred has remarkably fine motor control in many things, but his skill with a straight razor leaves much to be desired for those who wish to remain among the living.” Emmrich reached up for the hand towel tucked protectively around his collar, accepting defeat, but before he could loosen it, Rook strode forward and plucked up said razor from the desktop. “Well then, allow me to do the honors,” she offered, unfolding the blade with a decisive flick of her wrist. “Just…try not to fidget. I’m not used to shaving people who can move.” (Emmrich’s straight razor shave gets surprisingly intimate. Feelings ensue.)

Featherlight fingertips brushed over his lathered jaw before flitting away again. She inhaled, sharp and sudden, as if startled.

“Sorry,” she said, and the word was shallow too, syllables breathy and catching on that near-gasp like petals tossed into the breeze. “I’m not…it’s so much different than I’d thought it’d be.”

Her skin was flushing all the way down to her neck in splotches of feverish red and her eyebrows knit together furiously, dark slashes against the riot of color. ”You’re—well, warm for one and—”

She sucked in another audible inhale, this one long and slow, as she flattened her unsteady palm against her stomach with a tremulous smile. “It’s just different, is all.”

Before he could move or assure her she needn’t push herself, needn’t continue, Rook squared her shoulders and reached forward to press her trembling fingertips to his jawline. Visibly gathering her bearings, a no-nonsense, well-worn patina of professionalism settled into place. She swallowed and fit her thumb more firmly to the underside of his jaw to tip it back for her expert examination. Then she reached for the razor.

Emmrich could only go utterly still, not daring to speak, not daring to breathe. Rook maneuvered his jaw left and right and up and down, thumb and forefinger skimming up over the soapy line of his mandible towards his stubbled cheeks, stretching the skin taut. He was acutely aware of her gaze following in their wake, feeling it as surely as he felt her touch—gentle and skilled, with eyes that missed no details. 

And then he felt the blade. A quick, even stroke with the grain. 

Read on AO3

[omarfor-orchestra]

Noticed another thing about classically trained domenicocuomo

[gutsby]

Diehard

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: Joel tries Viagra for the very first time.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected p-in-v. Erectile dysfunction. Daddy kink. Praise kink if you squint. Overstimulation. Cumplay. She/her pussy pronouns. Pushing physical limits with a pre-negotiated safe word in place for it.

Note: No more limp dick erasure. We die like [old] men.

Part of the Waiting Game ‘verse | Word count: 986

Joel just wanted to prove he could fuck like he used to.

He didn’t think he’d almost kill you in the process.

“JOEL!” you screeched, heels digging deep in the mattress as your climax came in seismic waves.

The stimulation was insane. Normally the much-older man would have been down for the count after two—and usually one—big O, but now his chest was heaving, hips relentlessly beating a punishing pace against your own.

Your walls were slick with not only your cum but his, milky ropes of his arousal making for an obscene set of sounds every time his dick slid in and out of your cunt. You could feel his balls tighten and twitch with every forthcoming spurt of him, practically reeling with the pulse of each new sticky gift inside you. His groans rumbled low, but the power and pleasure and outright primal fervor they conveyed were unmistakeable. You had to look down, feebly, to believe it yourself—Joel never fucked his way through your orgasm and his.

Then you felt a palm slide up the back of your head, and Joel held it up to make sure you watched him fuck you.

“J-Joel,” you whimpered, watching his girth disappear and reappear at least a half-dozen times as you did.

“Just a little more, honey,” he murmured against your forehead. The smack of each thrust was dizzying, “Want my pretty girl nice and full’a me before she leaves, okay?”

Joel never could let you head back to college without a few of his loads and a head full of filthy memories—something to hold you over until your next visit home. You would’ve liked to mumble back, ‘Okay,’ but then your pussy clenched around him, and his thrusts grew faster.

“My sweet girl,” he grinned, “She likes that, huh?”

You could scarcely manage a nod. The weight of your head was held fully by him, and if that wasn’t indicative enough of your fucked-out state, your face surely said the rest. When Joel leaned back to adjust the angle of his thrusts, he caught sight of your hooded, glossy stare and almost came all over again. He slowed his pace for once.

Then he dipped a finger between your body and his, just long enough to douse the tip of his digit with cum. He bottomed out inside you, watched you part your lips in a gentle gasp, and pressed his touch to that open space.

It was almost like you didn’t have the strength to suck. You just let him smear the sticky stuff along your lower lip, gaze plastered to his. Then Joel’s cock sank deeper.

“O-ow!” you whined, partly reanimated by the stretch.

“You can take it,” Joel grunted.

The double entendre wasn’t lost on you. You could, and would, take his finger and his cock inside. You suckled dumbly on the cum-drenched fingertip in assent.

But when Joel’s finger popped out of your mouth and his thrusts picked back up, you weren’t entirely convinced you would be able to hold up the second half of that deal.

It wasn’t fair. He took one magic pill, and poof, his dick stayed hard for half the fucking day. You had nothing but your youth and two shaking legs to ensure your survival. When Joel worked his cock back and forth a couple more times and it seemed your body was about ready to scream, you took hold of his biceps and squeezed tight.

“I can’t.”

“Can’t what?”

The tip of his cock nicked a soft ridge inside you, and you jolted back. Joel’s palm was still pressed to your head, holding you to him, and his hips had you pinned as well.

Instead of answering, you whimpered.

You didn’t want him to stop, but you also weren’t sure if you could handle any more. Your eyes met his, pleading.

“Can’t what?” Joel pressed, a little more sternly.

Another whimper. Inside, Joel’s cock was rubbing that pleasure point raw, and you felt another climax coming.

“Use your words.”

“Too— too—”

Each new thrust was sending stars before your eyes. Joel was one sick man if he tried to make you talk while he fucked you past the point of all intelligible speech.

“Too what? Tell me, baby.”

You’d get that fucker back someday. Joel just grinned.

“Too much,” you hissed when his hips delivered another mind-numbing push. Then, feeling pleasure threaten to peak at almost a painful degree, “Toomuchtoomucht—”

Joel continued thrusting, knowing damn well you knew what to say if you really wanted him to stop. As if to underscore this point, he tipped your head back and made you hold his gaze, features creased with a frown.

“That sure don’t sound like the safe word to me.”

It wasn’t. You knew it wasn’t. He didn’t need to tell you twice, or even breathe a second word besides. With one more brush of Joel’s thick, throbbing, implausibly hard cock, he sent you over the edge and into your fourth orgasm of the morning, hitting that spot again and again.

And again.

And again.

Just like before, Joel fucked you through each wave, catching your lips this time to stifle your cries. You might’ve gone blind for a second or two, but that was alright; the pleasure, proximity, and then the sweet, erratic pulse of his cock sending rope after rope of his cum deep inside made the overstimulation worthwhile.

Your body went limp against the bed, held tight in Joel’s grasp, when you felt that sickly sweet dichotomy of soft, tender touches and a cock lodged between your walls that was as hard as it had ever been. Still trying to console you with kisses, still trying to warm you up for another round, perhaps, Joel almost laughed out loud in your mouth when you groaned into his and whispered:

“Please don’t ever take that fucking pill again.”

[princessbellecerise]

First Impressions

Summary ✩ If you want to make a good impression on your boyfriend’s family, then you probably shouldn’t get caught naked together

Warnings ✩ Smut, college!jace, Jace likes slow passionate sex I don’t make the rules, so many innuendos, Jace and the reader literally get caught by his whole family, humor, lowkey a crack fic

“But what if they don’t like me?”

“Babe, relax. They’ll love you.”

Jace stroked your arm lovingly as you sat on his dorm room bed, nerves and anxiety nearly eating you alive.

You were in the middle of finals, and not only that, Jace’s family had decided to come up for the weekend and visit him before winter vacation.

Every year, he usually travelled back overseas to be with them, but this year his family decided to stay in the United States and celebrate the holidays over here.

As his girlfriend, you were understandably worried because it meant that you’d be meeting them for the first time. Jace tried to reassure you that your fears didn’t matter, and that they’d love you despite what you thought, but you simply weren’t convinced.

“But what if they hate me?” You continued, chewing on your lip as you looked at him. “What if…what if they think I’m too…American or something?”

“What? Too American?” Jace snorted. “What does that even mean?” You groaned.

“It means they might hate me, or my accent, and they might try and set you up with a British girl or something, I don’t know.”

To your displeasure, Jacaerys merely laughed which made you pout.

“Jace! This is serious!” You whined at him, smacking his arm playfully. He shook his head.

“Like I said, they will love you and they will be very excited to see you. Especially my mother. She’s been dying to meet you ever since I told her about you.”

“But—!”

“No buts! Everything will be fine,” Jacaerys cooed, and you sighed as you buried your head in his chest.

“I hope you’re right,” You mumbled miserably, not wanting to even think about him being wrong. You loved Jace so much, and you couldn’t imagine not being accepted by the ones he loved the most. No matter how many times he reassured you that they would, the thought still terrified you to your core.

“Of course I am,” Jacaerys leaned his head down and pressed a kiss to your forehead, wrapping his arms around you as he did. “How could anyone not love you? You’re perfect.”

Quickly, a small rush of embarrassment flooded to your cheeks but luckily it was hidden.

“You really think so?” You mumbled again, and this time you felt Jace pulling you away from his chest so that you could look him in the eye.

Two pools of warm honey held nothing but confidence and reassurance as he nodded. “Of course,” Jace confirmed sweetly, and then he sealed his promise with a kiss.

Smiling, you welcomed his lips and relaxed as your fears began to melt away. As always, Jace had a habit of being able to calm you with the slightest touch, and now as you felt his plump lips against yours, your worries evaporated.

It was like magic how you could be so worked up one minute, and then completely like putty in his arms in the next. Forgetting your anxiety, you deepened the kiss with Jace and panted as you felt his hands roam over your body.

“Shouldn’t we…shouldn’t we be getting ready?” You asked him quietly, pulling away as you felt him hardening underneath you.

“We’ve still got,” Jace picked up his phone and tapped on the screen, grinning when it read 5:52pm. “Two hours until dinner, I think? That’s plenty of time.”

You grinned back and sank into another kiss, this time bringing your hands up to tangle in his curls. They were soft against your fingertips; a weapon you used to render your boyfriend defenseless as you crawled on top of him.

Moaning, Jace held your hips as you began to grind them, feeling the way his cock got hard as you did so. Jace’s hockey hoodie and your thin sleep shorts left minimum barriers between the two of you, but still, it was too much.

You needed to feel him as desire pooled in between your legs, a little wet spot forming on the crotch of your shorts.

“Jace. Help me take this off,” You said against his lips, and Jace, all too eager, obeyed.

You felt his strong hands tug on the band of your shorts, pulling them off and throwing them across the room. Then, Jace reached for the hoodie and pulled it up just enough to expose your tits, but he kept it on you because he loved the way you looked in it.

“Fuck you’re gorgeous,” Jacaerys groaned, leaning up to suck on one of your buds as you continued rocking against him.

The feeling of his soft tongue made your core clench with anticipation, throwing your head back as you panted. You weren’t really in a rush, so Jace took his time; sucking and biting and licking your flesh as he pleased.

Already, you could feel the marks on your skin forming, and you lightly pushed his chest to get him to stop.

“Don’t give me a hickey right before I meet your family,” You warned, but the damage was done and Jace was quite proud as he admired his work.

“Oops.” Your boyfriend smirked up at you, and then you squealed as he flipped you around. Now, your back was against his chest and Jace propped your hips up so that your ass was in the air.

You could feel him begin to grind against you now, pressing his hard cock against your body as his kissed his way down it.

He started with your neck, nipping at your sweet spots before eventually going lower. Jace pushed the hoodie up so he could kiss along your spine, leaving little marks wherever he pleased. While he did that, you shivered as his hands occupied themselves with your cunt, teasing your wet folds and ghosting over your clit.

“Jace,” You whined in the pillow, desperate for more friction as you wiggled against him. You were burning up, aching for his touch; and luckily your boyfriend wasn’t a cruel man.

“I’ve got you, Princess. Don’t worry,” He cooed softly. You felt the bed dip as he moved in between your thighs, placing a delicate kiss to each before going where you needed him most.

“God…” You moaned, biting the pillow as Jace’s lips attached to your cunt, tongue darting out to taste you.

He went slow at first, dipping his tongue in between your folds and circling your entrance. You whined as Jace pushed in, tongue-fucking you while his fingers came to play with your clit. His other hand occupied itself with steadying your trembling hips, keeping your cunt firmly pressed against his face as he messily ate you out from behind.

“Fuck, fuck! Jace!”

His name fell from your lips like a chant, your thighs shaking as your orgasm approached. If you could, you would’ve tugged on his curls but you had to settle for gripping the bedsheets as you made a mess on his tongue.

To Jace, you tasted so sweet that he just couldn’t help but to lap it all up; face getting drenched with the evidence of your arousal. He reached out to message your trembling thighs, placing little kisses on them before turning you over.

As he did, you couldn’t help but think how hot your boyfriend looked after eating you out. His face was glistening with your cum, his pupils blown and eager for more.

He couldn’t get the condom on fast enough, and you nearly started drooling when he teased his swollen cock head in between your folds.

You were still sensitive by the time he started to push in, but you welcomed his cock and eagerly held his body close to yours. As always, Jace held your hand and let out a shaky breath as he entered you. With his forehead pressed to yours, he gazed into your eyes and sank into your cunt until there was nothing left for him to give.

“Fuck!”

The two of you moaned in unison as he bottomed out, Jace trembling above you as your warm cunt squeezed him. He leaned down to capture your lips in a long, deep kiss, loving to make out with you while he fucked you.

It was one thing to be inside of you, but with Jace, he always felt the need to be consumed by you, taking you in every way he could think of. His lips upon yours, his hands holding yours, his cock deep inside of you.

The closeness, the sheer intimacy of it all always drove your boyfriend crazy, as he wanted to think of and feel nothing but expect for you. No matter what, Jace always poured everything he had into you—every bit of love, want, desire.

You could feel it in the way he moved his hips, desperately chasing the high only you could bring him to. You spread yourself eagerly below him, taking, wanting, craving for the same things.

Together, you held one another as your bodies moved in sync, giving and taking and fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle.

Jace’s cock began to tighten as he neared his release. Likewise, your core clenched, your head becoming fuzzy as he brushed against your sweet spot over and over again. Just as you pulled away from his kiss, your own lips—plump and swollen—let out a gasp as you came around him. All that you could see, all you taste and feel was Jacaerys as pleasure completely took over your senses.

And then, not even a second later Jace was collapsing as well, panting as he spilled himself into the condom.

You had the pleasure of hearing his sweet sounds as he did, rubbing his back and his ass gently to coax him. By the time he was finished, the condom was filled to the brim and Jace pulled it off, lazily tying it up and throwing it in the trashcan.

Pink puffy lips, bruised from kissing you and biting them so hard when he came, once again ghosted over your skin, Jace leaving a kiss on your forehead before collapsing beside you.

“I love you,” Your boyfriend said gently, taking your face into his hands. Soft cheek pressed against soft cheek as you curled into one another, still panting and glowing and smiling from your highs.

“I love you too,” You giggled as he squeezed your cheeks, pressing them together so your lips jutted out like a fish. “I lobe you, I lobe you, I lobe you, I lobe you—”

Jace laughed at your disordered speech, just about to comment on it when suddenly the door flung open, and Cregan Stark stood with his entire family behind him as he grinned.

“Surprise!”

“What the—?”

The smile on your lips died as you froze in shock, eyes coming to settle on the plethora of people that filed into the room.

They hadn’t noticed it yet, not until it was too late. There were six people in total, all too busy grinning with anticipation and chattering excitedly until they noticed exactly what they had stumbled upon—a very naked Jacaerys and his girlfriend.

“Oh,” Rhaena, who you had seen before in FaceTime calls and followed on Instagram, was the first to notice your predicament. Their eyes widened when they looked at Jace, stuttering but not able to warn anyone in time. “I…”

“Oh shit!”

“Are they—?”

“Dude!”

Jace was much faster than you to react; shouting at Cregan and telling him to close the door while his roommate stood there in shock.

Behind him, you could hear laughter and horrified shouts as Jace’s family looked at the scene; his step-sister Baela cracking up while who you presumed was his mother gasped.

“Jacaerys—” The white haired woman blinked, dumbfounded, and of course you would have the absolute unfortunace of locking eyes with her right before Jace exclaimed,

“Mom! Get out!”

The door slammed shut just as Jace began to scurry up, his face a violent shade of red as you blinked. In that moment, you couldn’t tell if you wanted to scream or just straight up die as you looked at Jace, horrified as you covered your naked body.

“I didn’t…I didn’t know…” He rapidly shook his head, trying to explain but you could obviously tell he wasn’t expecting his family to come here.

You were supposed to meet them at the restaurant at seven, and you still thought you had time to get yourself presentable.

You wanted to make a good first impression on the people who would hopefully be your future in laws, but now though, there was no such luck. His whole family had seen you naked, and now you had no fucking clue how you’d ever leave this room without wanting the ground to swallow you up.

“Oh my god. Oh my god. What are we going to do?” You asked, panicked as Jace paced around the room. “Your mother—Jace, your mom just saw my fucking pussy!”

“Or maybe she didn’t,” Jace countered, trying to delude himself and you into thinking the situation wasn’t that bad. It didn’t work. “Maybe they…maybe they only saw us in the covers, but didn’t see anything else.”

“Yeah right,” You scoffed, knowing damn well that wasn’t the case. “I’m pretty sure they’ve seen more of me than you ever have!”

“Shit!”

Jace ran a hand through his curls as commotion sounded outside. Cregan panicking and Baela laughing and Luke so horrified all he could do was stare at the wall.

They were all waiting out there to meet you but, “I can’t ever show my face again,” You wailed. “I was right. They’re gonna hate me and think I’m a slut and they’re never gonna want to see me again!”

“That’s not true,” Jace insisted, shaking his head. “Babe, they would never think that about you.”

“Yeah! We’d never—” Rhaena’s voice became muffled as Rhaenyra scolded them, but the fact that they could hear what you were saying just made you want to die even more.

“Jesus Christ. Is there no end to the embarrassment?” You groaned, flopping on Jace’s bed. You buried your face into the pillow while Jace rubbed circles on your back, torn between comforting you and yelling at Rhaena to fuck off.

“It’s alright. It’ll be alright,” Your boyfriend said awkwardly. “The best thing that we can do is to just go out there, and forget this ever happened, yeah? I’m sure after a few drinks no one will even remember this.”

Which might’ve been true, if half his family wasn’t under 21 and couldn’t drink in the USA.

You groaned. “Ihatemylife.”

“What?”

“I said I hate my life,” You pouted at Jace, pulling your face from the covers. “Only something like this could happen to me.” But eventually, you agreed to just bite the bullet.

You knew you couldn’t hide forever, and as much you wanted to, you couldn’t avoid the six people standing outside waiting for you and Jace either.

No matter how undignified you felt, you still got ready and you took a deep breath as Jace grabbed your hand.

“Let’s go meet them properly this time, shall we?”

—

“So how’s the bed—I mean, the bread! Sorry!” Luke blushed deeply while you sank into your seat, utterly mortified while Jace tensed beside you.

He still had yet to relax even though the incident had happened hours ago, and his family was graceful enough not to mention it save for a few accidental innuendos and stray giggles as they recalled the moment.

Cregan, who was also invited along, hadn’t stopped sending either of you apologetic looks since it was his idea to bring them to surprise Jace.

The poor guy had a wanted to do a nice thing for his best friend and ended up humiliating him in the process.

But you were so embarrassed you didn’t even care, not being able to even look at Luke while you answered.

“It’s good,” You told him meekly, even though it was obvious you had barely touched it. “A little hard, but...”

Daemon snickered as you suddenly stopped, stomach dropping when you realized you said. “I-I mean…I didn’t…”

“Babe,” Jace gave you look as he squeezed your hand under the table, shooting his step father an angry glare. “He knows what you meant. Right, Luke?”

“Yeah.” The sophomore in high school didn’t say anything else as he picked at his appetizer.

You sighed.

Quite frankly, it was awkward all around, making you feel like you should have just stayed in your dorm room.

What was supposed to be a normal family dinner was now overshadowed by the incident, and you felt like no matter what you did, something brought it up.

The last thing you wanted to do was make a bad first impression, and you had made an impression alright.

You cleared your throat. “So how was the flight?” You asked no one in particular, desperately wanting to change the subject. You didn’t think you’d survive another minute of this if not, but thankfully Rhaena ended up being the one who answered you.

“It was boring. Kind of long, actually,” They shrugged. And then they added, “T-The flight, I mean,” which only made the situation worse.

Baela shook her head. “I don’t know. It was kind of short to me,” She grinned, laughing when Jace glared and kicked her under the table.

“Baela!” Rhaenyra scolded her, shaking her head. Like you, the woman seemed to be at her wits end with how much more she could take.

It was embarrassing enough for you to experience it, but you couldn’t imagine catching your own son naked. Rhaenyra was probably the only one more mortified than you and Jace, and so she was a bit more sympathetic than the rest of her family.

“That’s enough. Stop torturing the poor girl, will you?”She warned. “Y/N, honey, I’m so sorry,” She then said gently, and you gave her a tight smile, hating yourself for not ordering a stronger drink.

Thankfully though, you were saved by the waitress coming around. You and Jace let out a sigh of relief as the food momentarily distracted everybody. Baela stopped smirking, eyeing her spaghetti with joy. Daemon no longer stared at you accusingly, just waiting to for the chance to jump in and embarrass Jace. Eveything seemed fine again; that is until she set Jace’s entree down.

“And here is that shrimp for you, sir,” She smiled at him politely, and you could see Cregan absolutely loosing it as he stood up.

“Fuck—I’m sorry man. I can’t, I just…” He crackled all the way to the bathroom, his laugher echoing through the whole restaurant. A few people stared at him as he passed, but the waitress didn’t seem too bothered by it.

She turned to Rhaenyra, handing her a red drink and said, “And here is that cocktail for you.”

Rhaenyra stared at the drink, not even knowing what to say as her children burst into giggles. Not even Daemon could hold himself back, laughing into his wine while Jace laid his head on the table.

“Is there anything else I can get for you all?” The waitress asked, chewing her lip at the scene. She obviously didn’t understand what was going on or why everything she said was so funny.

“A gun,” Jace whispered from beside you, catching her attention. His red face was as buried into his arms due to permanent shame. “I would like for you to bring me a gun, please.”

“Excuse me?” Your waitress reeled back, her eyes going wide at Jace’s words. The tray she carried momentarily shook in her hands, and—not wanting for her to call the police and make this an even worse situation—you quickly stepped in.

“I-I think he means that we’re all satisfied, thank you,” You told her weakly.

Your whole body burned from shame and embarrassment, and you were surprised that you didn’t catch on fire right then and there. You certainly wished you would, as it would save you from the absolute worst dinner of your life.

The woman nodded slowly. “Alright then. Enjoy,” She said cautiously.

And then, without missing a beat, Baela looked straight at you and giggled. “Oh, I’m sure she did.”

[c0eu4]

Charles speaking dirty in french🤭🤭🤭🤭

CL16 | Dirty boy ♡

Summary: Y/n keeps bothering her boyfriend until he gives in and shows her how to be a good girl.

Warning: dirty talk, smut, no protect sex, dom!Charles, sub!reader, mean!Charles, handcuffs, a bit of hitting (soft)

A/N: enjoy<3

Translation: mon amour= my love | Chéri.e= darling

MASTERLIST requests are open

She sits on his lap, her hand passing through his brown hair. ''Mon amour, I'm trying to work.'' If there are two things that the young woman loves, it's annoying her boyfriend when he's trying to work and his horribly sexy French accent.

She kisses his cheek, her other hand running over his abs through his t-shirt. He feels a shiver down his spine, but doesn't give in to temptation. ''Chérie, please.''

She doesn't listen to him and kiss the crook of his neck, nibbing it softly. His hand found its way to her waist, rubbing it softly. ''Don't you want to take a break?'' She let her hand go under his t-shirt, using her fingerstip to touch his abs.

He sighs, from pleasure? Annoying? She does not know but she doesn't care. Her hand under his t-shirt keeps going up, her mouth continuing to stimulate his neck by leaving a few red marks and lovebites.

He didn't push her away, trying to focus on the computer screen in front of him. He begins to feel tight in his pants, her ass wiggling against him and her fingertips tracing the vertical line of his abs.

His hand which was on her waist goes down to caress her ass, squeezing it softly. ''T'as envie que je te baise hein?'' you want me to fuck you, huh?

She doesn't understand what he said but can't help and moan softly against his soft skin. He grabs her jaw and forces her head up to kiss her. She moans into the kiss and Charles takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth, caressing the inside of her cheeks.

She removes his headphone and places it on the desk, running her hand through his hair. He picks her up and moves her into the bedroom, dropping her on the bed. ''Qu'est ce que je vais faire de toi?'' What am I going to do with you?

She feels the excitement build even more in her body, his accent completely turning her brain. ''Tu es si irrésistible..'' You're so irresistible.

He removes his t-shirt, finally revealing his abs that she loves to caress so much. ''Take off all of your clothes.'' His voice was firm yet sweet. She listens to him and takes off her clothes, revealing her underwear to him. ''I said all of your clothes.'' She can't help but blush, even though Charles has seen her naked so many times.

She takes off her last clothes and watches him rummage through the drawer of his nightstand.

''Is it ok if I tie your wrist to the bed?'' She bit her lower lips. ''Yes. You can do whatever you want with me, my love.''

Charles smirks, taking off two handcuffs from the drawer, deftly tying one end around one of her wrist, securing it to the headboard. He repeated this process with her other wrist, leaving her bound and vulnerable in front of him.

He takes his time to take off his pants and joins her in bed, getting on top of her and one of his hands already trailing between her thighs. ''Je parie que tu es toute mouillée, mh?'' I bet you're soaking, mh?

She whines, wanting him to touch her. ''Please.. Charlie..'' He chuckles, his cold hand touching her inner thighs. She can't help but move her hips to try and show him her impatience. His fingers move up slowly and he slides one finger between her wet folds. ''Toute mouillée et rien que pour moi.'' All wet and only for me.

She closes her eyes, trying to move her hands but can't. Her head fell back against the pillow with a long moan of his name when she felt his lips against her bundle of nerves.

She can't help but squirm with pleasure as he continues to stimulate her with his tongue. And just as she was about to cum, Charles suddenly stopped and moved his kisses back to her stomach.

''What the hell Charles!'' she shouted, frustrated. He laughs, kissing her ribs. His laugh is deep and dark, almost frightening.

He rubs himself against her wet fold, making her moan deeply. He can feel the wet through his boxer and it turns him so much on. ''Putain Y/n tu vas me faire jouir juste parce que t'es autant mouillée.'' Damn Y/n you're gonna make me cum just because of your wetness.

''Charles..I need you!'' She whines, shaking violently under him. He doesn't wait longer and takes off his boxer and thrust roughly into her tight and wet cunt.

''Merde.. t'es si serré..'' shit.. you're so tight..

He doesn't wait any longer to almost pull out and go back in roughly.

''Tu la prends si bien.'' You take it so well.

If he keeps talking like that, she'll probably cum faster than expected.

''Oh oui, t'es si bonne.. ma pute..'' Oh yes, you're so good.. my whore..

''Ch-Charles!'' She moaned loudly before cumming hardly around his cock. Charles takes it upon himself and holds back from cumming as he feels her walls tightening around his cock. He speeds up his movements, his hips hitting hers with a sensual sound of flesh smacking and a wet sound.

His hand hits the side of her thigh. ''Dit moi que tu m'appartient.'' Tell me you're mine.

She doesn't understand what he says and moans loudly, not having time to recover from her orgasm.

Charles hit her thigh a second time, this time leaving a red mark of his hand. ''Dit moi que you're mine!''

Her back arches a second time, her eyes filling with tears. ''I-I'm yours !'' He moaned loudly, but kept holding himself. ''En Français.'' in French.

The feeling is almost unbreathable and she can barely find her breath. ''Je..J-je appartiens.'' She managed to moan, with her sensual English accent.

''Putain oui..Bonne fille.. Mon jouet baisable préféré..'' Fuck yes.. good girl.. my favorite fucktoy..

Charles redoubles his efforts, showing his breathing and dumbbell physique in his thrusts. The room is filled with their moans. One of Charles' hands finds its way between her legs, playing with her clit.

She doesn't wait any longer to come brutally a second time, tears leave her eyes to roll down her cheeks.

''Oh oui.. serre moi fort..'' Oh yes.. tight me hard..

Charles continues to thrust inside her until he reaches his own climax, his hot seed feeling her up perfectly.

''Ah! Putain! Y/n! T'es trop bonne!'' Ah! Fuck! Y/n! You're too good!

He crashes into her, still being careful not to hurt her. After a few minutes of catching their breath, he pulls out of her with a wet noise and one last moan leaves her lips.

He unties her hands, massaging her wrist to relieve it. ''Ça va, mon chat?'' All good, my cat?

She turns around and hugs him tightly, nuzzling her head into his neck. ''That was great. As usual.''

He can't help but smirk, his hands rubbing her back. ''Je sais que t'aime bien quand je suis méchant avec toi..'' I know you like it when I'm mean with you..

One of his hand goes lower and gently strokes her red thigh. She kisses his neck, already nibbing on it again.

''Ready for round two?''

[bks-writing-adventures]

Four Is Plenty (Aemond X Pregnant! Reader)

Warnings: Pregnancy, fluff, mentions of poop and genitals.

When Aemond married you, he had many things envisioned. But this was not one of them. Watching you waddle around, grumbling and mumbling as you dropped your book. He smiled, trying to not look too amused. It hadn’t taken you long to get pregnant at all, for two weeks after your wedding night, blood did not fill the chamberpot. It became clear very quickly that you were pregnant, and now, at nine months, you were just moments away from bursting.

He had never seen a woman look so humongous, but of course he would not tell you that. “Allow me to help, my love,” He spoke, picking up her book and pressing kisses to her fingertips. He and the lords had an ongoing bet going, since they were all certain that you had more than one baby trapped up inside you. His bet was three, and Ser Criston was sure it would only be one humongous baby. 

“I hate this.” You mumbled, and he sighed softly in response as his hands moved to cup your stomach. He had read all the books he could find on pregnancy and child care, his palms on the bottom of your belly, lifting gently to help relieve you of your pain.

 “Do not fret. It will be any day now, and you will feel better than ever before,” He spoke, rubbing over the stretchmarks that formed all over your belly like tiger stripes. “

I am simply excited to be able to sleep on my belly again,” You grumbled, whining as he slowly let go of your belly, leaving you to deal with all the weight again. “I hope the birth is not too great of a pain, and I hope the midwives do not scream in my face,” You spoke, and he smiled as he kissed both of your cheeks. They had gotten nice and round with your weight gain, and he absolutely loved the way you looked. 

“I promise they will not. I will be there the whole time,” He spoke, stroking your hair.

 “Hm…” You mumbled, moving to go take your afternoon nap, a pillow at her lower back to relieve the ache. He laid in bed next to you, tracing his fingers over your nose and hairline, your collarbone and your belly. He was addicted to touching you, watching your cheeks get pink, feeling your breath along his wrist. As he traced small swirls onto your swelling belly, he felt a wetness forming under him. His brows scrunched, and he quickly sat up, the breath leaving his lungs when he saw your lounge gown covered in fluid.

Your water had broke. He cleared his throat, trying his best not to panic as he quickly got to his feet and rang the bell he had installed just for this occasion. Slowly, your eyes began to open up. You were so sleepy that you felt as though your eyes wer glued shut, eyes getting wide as you felt the soggy blankets under you. It felt so gross and sticky that you could cry, and you did, as the room began to flood with people. It was so stressful, and you could hardly think as they propped you up and started wiping your head and face with a cold cloth. 

“It is okay, my lady. It is okay, simply spread your legs and let us look,” One of them said lightly. She was young and calm, and her attitude was slowly melting into you. It made you feel much better that they were not freaking out, that they seemed confident that you would be just fine. And maybe you would be. From a young age, it was one of your greatest fears to die in childbirth- and hesitantly, your thighs parted, and you let one of the midwives take a peek. 

“Okay, we are at one inch,” She said quietly. You weren’t sure how much it was supposed to be, but the smile on her face made you smile too, nodding slowly. Aemond was over educated on the ways of birth, and you had chosen to remind blissfully ignorant. That way, you would be less afraid when the time came. And less afraid you were, eyes wandering across the ceiling. You had spent your days painting it, and from down here, the small patches that you were able to paint looked so insignificant. 

“When this baby is out, I will make a portrait of us.. Right there,” You spoke, pointing up at the ceiling, right at the center. 

“I’m sure it will be beautiful,” He said gently, kissing your palm. 

“Do you have any ideas for names, My Lady?” one of the midwives asked, and your mind wandered. You were not a big fan of most Targaryen names, as they sounded rather silly. But there were one or two that you would not mind.

 “I like Aenys, for a boy,” You said, noticing how Aemond sighed quietly against your hand. 

“I would prefer Maegor,” He said gently, and you smiled in return. 

“That is nice, dear. But as I said, I like the name Aenys. And for a girl….” You trailed off, trying to think. Too many Valyrian girl names sounded the same. There was already a Rhaenys, a Rhaenyra, and a Rhaena. Family dinners were getting far too complicated. 

“What about Alysanne?” Your husband asked softly, brows scrunched as he looked down between your legs. He would be lying if he said that it was a pleasant sight, and he swallowed his discomfort as his eye wandered back to your face, watching a pleasant expression grow on your features. 

“Alysanne. That is sweet. I like that,” You nodded, not knowing what was to come. As the hours grew later, you grew rather bored. Your stomach grumbled, but you could not eat, the nurses insisting that you would throw any food right up.

 “This child sure is taking its time,” You commented as you made an attempt to sit up, the midwives gently nudging your shoulders. “Relax,” You told them quietly, eyes narrowing a little. “I can move,” You spoke, reaching toward the bedside table for your latest read.

 “Shall we get the maesters to quicken the process?” One offered, and you pondered the thought before gently shaking your head. “I would prefer not to be surrounded by men,” You said, licking your finger tip as you pulled on the brittle page of your book, your eyes wandering over the words. “The child will come when it is ready,” You mumbled. The night was tense, and with every breath, the midwives jumped. It would not be for a few hours that you let out a loud grunt, gripping your belly. “Gods above!” You shouted, and Aemond jumped to your side. You hadn’t realized just how sharp the pains would be, your toes curling up. 

“Its okay, its okay,” He mumbled, trying to soothe you. You let out a loud groan, holding air in your lungs as your midwife let you know that you were at two inches or so.

 “Is that good?” You choked out, and Aemond smiled at you, all of his teeth showing. It was a rare sight, as he usually kept his expressions to the absolute minimum. 

“Very good, my love. Within the hour, we will have a babe in our arms,” He murmured, and you had never seen him look so proud. And like magic, when half an hour passed, you grunted loudly, clawing into his leather jacket, leaving crescent moons of your nails in the fabric. 

“Shh, shhhh….” He murmured, and you almost shouted at him. It took a second to realize he wasn’t trying to hush you, but rather trying to comfort you, and slowly, you let him. 

“It is crowning, my lady!” A midwife whispered, her eyes full of awe. It was an odd feeling, being a spectacle. Everyone just staring at your vagina. 

“Thats… nice,” You mumbled, your face scrunching up as they rubbed our face with a cold cloth. 

“You’re doing incredible, my lady. Perhaps the best i’ve ever seen.” A voice said gently, helping to hold your legs apart. Your cheeks got pink, and you curled up a little. You grunted loudly, your face bright red as you felt all your muscles tense and relax, your eyes snapping open. This was the grossest thing ever, and a maid simply pulled the bedpan out from beneath you, going to a small bin to simply throw out your mess as crying filled the room. Your hands reached for your face, and to your great surprise, the cries were not your own, and when you finally looked down, you could see the midwives gently touching the shoulders of an infant, helping to pull out the child. 

“Be careful!” You shouted loudly. 

“I am, my lady. The most careful I can be,” You had to praise the midwives, you could never have the patience. You felt a bit bad for yelling, but the pain overrid any guilt you could feel. 

“That is one…” Aemond whispered softly, tracing over your arm. 

“Do you wish to cut the cord?” He was offered.  You mumbled softly, looking away as they gave him scissors. It made you anxious. You just had to hope he wouldn’t mess things up, sighing in relief as they finally put the infant on your chest. It was slightly slimy and still red in the face, wailing quietly. But gods, was it the best thing you’d ever seen in your life. 

“Is it a boy or a girl?” You whispered softly, looking up to be met with Aemond’s glowing face. 

“A boy,” He whispered softly, and you felt your eyes getting wet as the baby suckled on your chest, getting nice and quiet. 

“Aenys.” You mumbled quietly, and for a few minutes, everything was calm, until you felt a rumble in your tummy.

 “Is it the after birth?” One of the midwives asked, coming to your help, eyes going wide as she stared at you. 

“What?” You asked softly, looking over at Aemond as he leaned over, too. 

“Its another!” He exclaims, his voice joyous and loud. 

“Shhhh…” You mumbled, eyes shut. You were so focused on the baby on your breast, and it didn’t even hurt anymore. Everything was a daze as they whispered and squealed, and before you knew it, another baby was crying, and your brows were furrowed. 

“Twins..” You mumbled, smiling a little as they put the baby on your other breast. “Boy or girl?” You murmured softly, too exhausted to look. 

“A girl,” Aemond told you gently, rubbing your shoulders, squeezing the tension out with his thumbs. 

“A girl..” You repeated, smiling lazily. “Hmmm…” You grumbled, ignoring the rest of the sounds around her. You didn’t even know what was happening anymore, but no one seemed afraid, so slowly, you drifted to sleep. You didn’t know how much time had passed when you woke, but you could hear about a dozen voices, and feel cloth over your body. Your eyes cracked open slowly, the afternoon light assaulting your irises, making you hiss softly in distaste. 

“The curtains,” You heard a voice say, and lovely shade covered you, following the sound of the curtain rings dragging across the rods. 

“I have never seen so many newborns at once,” As the sleepiness began to fade away, you could focus on the voices more, and slowly, you began to sit up. In your unconscious state, they had put you in a nice, powder blue nightgown, and your hair was pulled away from your face, fresh sheets on the bed. You must have been as still as stone. 

“Ah, she is awake,” you felt a hand come to your head, frowning for a moment before your eyes focused, seeing your mother in law in front of you. 

“You must be exhausted, but you have done us all so proud,” she said gently, kissing the top of your head. She was holding a baby, but it was not one that you had seen, and for a moment, you didnt’ even think it was yours, until you saw those pudgy cheeks and strong browbone. Your eyes slowly wandered. There were four cribs in the room. Your heartbeat picked up, blinking slowly. “Quadruplets. I cannot believe it,” Alicent spoke, but her voice slowly faded out. Four. You hadn’t been ready for that, you ready for two, at most. 

“We set Aenys aside so we do not confuse him for the others,” Aemond said softly, coming toward you, a baby in each arm. One swaddled in violet, the other in a rosy color. 

“Two boys and two girls. I have never seen anything more perfect,” He whispered softly. “Do you want to hold the girls? You haven’t named them yet. Though, i’ve been calling this one Alysanne, and she seems to like it,” he says, kissing the forehead of the one wrapped in rosy plush. She was surely the runt of the litter, her little nose twitching with his kiss. You hummed, gently taking the other, the one wrapped in violet satin. Once you could get a good look at her face, you smiled at the wisps of gold and white along her scalp, curling up into little coils. Her cheeks were rosy and fat, and her brows were practically invisible.

 “...Daeryn. Rynnie for short,” You spoke, and he smiled softly. 

“I hope you do not mind, wife, but I decided to name the other boy,” He said sheepishly, making your brows raise. You did not mind, of course, you just hoped that it wasn’t an ugly name. While he enjoyed the name Maegor, you found it rather boring, it tasted like sour ash on your tongue. “Do not worry, I did not name him Maegor,” He spoke, practically reading your mind, and Helaena spoke up from her seat by the window. 

“I would not let him.” She says, making you smile. 

“So what is this wonderful name you picked?” You asked, looking up at him as Daeryn’s little hand curled around your finger. 

“Aelorn,” He spoke, his expression hopeful. It was not your favorite name, but seeing his expression, so sweet and genuine, you nodded. 

“I like it.” You said softly, letting him give you the smallest of kisses on your dry lips. 

“We will have to have more clothes made,” He said softly, letting out a small laugh. 

“You may use the ones I have from the twins,” Helaena spoke up, setting her embroidery project down on her lap. Curious, you looked over, seeing fou little baby faces stitched into the fabric, your heart warming up at the sight. 

“So, when will you start trying again?” Alicent asked, half teasing and half serious, making Aemond blink slowly.

 “Trust me, Mother. Four is plenty.” He smiled, and you could not help but agree. Yesterday, you expected one child. And now you had enough to last a lifetime. And honestly? You’d never been happier.

Thank you so much to everyone who reads! I'm thinking about having the quadruplets as recurring characters and making a little mini-series of them growing up. Thoughts?

[luveline]

Hii i love the way you write!!! Could you write something about bad ass reader X Spencer? I miss them soo much.... Maybe something about her saying I love you for the first time and she's nervous and he's confused bc he's not understanding why she's nervous and what she's trying to say ❤️❤️❤️

some light spencer fluff ! love u. fem

Spencer has hair like silk. Brown, shiny curls in the milky moonlight of a September sky. The cold air nips his nose and cheeks, leaving ruddy blush like cherry stains that bring out the endless brown of his eyes. His hand is callused beneath yours, evidence of hour upon hour of stooped writing, pen ink on his fingertips, dark black smudges that stretch as they squeeze. He tips his head back to look at the bruising sky and the stars are like pin pricks, close and very, very far as he again squeezes your hand. You’re surprised you can see the stars, but this part of the country is quiet. 

“Wow, look at all of those,” he says, like he’s begging you to see them too; worried you’ll miss out on such a heart-rending sight. 

You let your side weigh on his and look up, feeling the cold of each star above you like a sudden breeze. Your nose is ice, your lips chapping despite a little lip balm you’d rushed on before you left the cottage. It’s a small, beautiful place, decorated by its patches, ivy and cobbled roofing, window panes replaced in different shades of pink and orange and green. You can see it from where you’re standing, a light forgotten in the bathroom. 

Let’s go on a walk, Spencer‘d said, before it gets too cold. 

It’s too cold already. You shiver, forcing more of your weight into Spencer’s side, only slightly abashed as he wraps his arm around you and presses the soft of his cheek to your head. “See that one?” he asks, smiling, “I think that’s the North Star. Brightest one.” 

You close your eyes.

“It’s really cold, isn’t it?” he asks. 

“It’s freezing.” 

Spencer noses your cheek. Your stomach flips, a zapping, sickening electricity bending and aching inside you from his innocuous touch. Intimacy with Spencer has become casual, but not less exciting. You feel him like a contusion, sometimes. Right in the pit of your stomach. It borders on unpleasant, though it never quite gets there. You want him to do this to you for the rest of your life, you think, opening your eyes to catch a last look at the dark sky and its rich field of stars like white strawberry seeds. 

Spencer’s watching you when you drop your chin. You’d scowl if he were anyone else, reluctant to be caught relaxed, but it’s him. 

“You okay?” 

“Shouldn’t I be?” you ask. You’ve given little clue of nerves. You’re as rigid as ever, the softest part of you your hand where he’s petting your index finger. 

“I know when you’re… not fully you,” he says. 

“I’m still me. Just worried.” 

“About what?”

There’s a layer of gutted to his voice you don’t like. You shouldn’t be worried about anything. You and your colleagues at the BAU recently received a pay rise at work, as well as a small bonus, which you and Spencer then cashed to vacation here. It might not be the best time of year, but anywhere with Spencer can be perfect. So far it has been. Waking up with him in a space that isn’t his apartment or yours feels new, startlingly good, it makes you think of the future in ways you hadn’t considered in depth previously. The aching puddle of your stomach yawns again. 

“I have something– something I–” You wince through it as Spencer’s brows rise. “I need to tell you something, Spencer. Before it jumps out of me.” 

“Okay.” His breath is like mist in front of him. His cheeks continue in their reddening. 

“I’m worried I won’t say it the right way.” 

Spencer shakes his head. You’d like to rub some warmth into his skin, but you don’t trust your hands to stay steady. “You’re making me nervous.”

“I’m really happy we’re here. I can’t… there isn’t any other way I’d like to spend the weekend. This is really– Spencer, this is perfect, and it’s because of you. Us.“ Spencer’s overlooked and under appreciated everywhere he goes. Just once, you want him to feel seen for the gem he is. “I really,” —your breath leaves you like it’s been yanked from your chest— ��love you.” 

Spencer brings your hand to his chest. “You love me?” he asks, kissing your fingers. 

You dip your chin to your chest. “Yeah.” 

“I love you.“ What an odd emphasis, and somehow the right one. 

You nod. That’s good. It’s good to be loved. You’d known he loved you, of course, but it’s good to have it said aloud. 

“You aren’t surprised?” he asks. “But, why were you worried?” 

Hard to explain. You give in to temptation, cradling the cold stretch of his cheek to rub a thumb over his bottom lip. Your lip balm has left it soft. “I told you, I didn’t think I’d say it right.” 

“You don’t usually say anything wrong.” 

Spencer wraps his arm around you and tugs you in for a hug. You stumble back at the force of him and he sways you from one side to the other, keeping you up with him, frosting grass crunching under your shoes. The night is quiet here, coloured only by the shush of the wind and the stirring leaves of the woodlands. Spencer’s breath is by far the loudest sound, a huffing, happy thing that betrays his excitement. “I love you,” he says on a laugh. “It was nice to see you struggling to talk, for once, but you don’t need to be nervous with me. I love you.” Two admissions at once. You find yourself renewed.

“It was a one time thing, I assure you.” 

“Consider me assured,” he says, ferrying your face up for a warm kiss. 

[clonecaptains]

No Vacancy

a tyler owens x shy reader fic

warnings: none! she/her pronouns mentioned; no use of y/n; this is all cozy fluff

word count: 3k

summary: you're part of the wrangler crew and have a crush on tyler. and you're debating on acting on these feelings. you might just get your chance when he shows up at your motel room.

a/n: this is my first tyler fic! this is the ol 'there's only one bed' trope - and im already planning a part two! hope yall enjoy!

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

All these motel rooms look the same. Warm earth tones all over the place and strange prints on the bedspread. But after a long day like today, it’s a welcome sight. That bed’s calling your name. You shrug your bag off your shoulder and hit the light switch. The lamp in the corner illuminates the room in a warm glow. It’s cozy.

The door clicks behind you; and you stand in the room for a moment deciding what you want to do next. Your job was done for the day. You are the official tornado wrangler social media accounts manager. Now that the wrangler team has gained a substantial following, it’s your job to post updates about new videos or the latest t-shirt design up for charity purposes. You’ve posted what you needed to post for the day, and now is your chance to rest.

You decide on a shower to think about the events of the day while you clean off.

Today was a first for you. It was your first time being in tornado while sitting in the passenger seat of Tyler’s truck. You’ve been on the team now for a while, but it was part of your initiation they’d said. Tyler was sweet. He pulled you aside telling you that you didn’t have to if you didn’t want to. And you really didn’t want to, but you wanted to prove to yourself that you could. More than that, you trusted Tyler would keep you safe.

You loved watching him, and his excitement was contagious despite your fears of this major storm. He’d been blasting his storm playlist, but when it got close to the moment, he made sure you were ok.

When the storm hit and passed you over, you couldn’t help but scream – in fear or excitement you don’t know. You grabbed Tyler’s arm in the heat of the moment, and feeling his warm skin under your fingertips was more of a thrill than the storm was.

You’re not sure how well you’re keeping the secret that you’re completely in love with him. You fell the first day you met him several months ago. And while you did prove to yourself that you could handle a tornado – you don’t know if you can handle the ache you feel when you’re around him. Riding shotgun in his truck today and touching his arm will keep you on cloud nine for the next week.

A creak in the pipes of this old motel tears you from your thoughts. You get out of the shower and dry off to put on your pjs. That’s when your mind drifts back to Tyler. How sweet he was with you all day leading up to your first tornado, and how he let you hold his arm. How he checked on you a dozen times after to make sure you weren’t too shaken.

You were shaken, but not but the storm. No matter how often you’re around him – he has the same effect on you. He makes you feel dizzy. His presence is so hard to ignore. It’s not just his handsome face or broad muscular frame – though that certainly is a factor – it’s his charm and relaxed demeanor. He’s a perfect balance of rowdy and sweet. And you are smitten.

You wince thinking about how it’s probably painfully obvious to the rest of the team. And what’s worse, it’s obvious to him too. If he’s seen it – and hasn’t said anything then you can only assume he doesn’t feel the same way.

All of this goes through your mind during your nightly routine. It’s early in the night, you left the wranglers down in the parking lot – most of them were still having a beer chatting over the day’s storm. You can faintly hear people talking outside while the night is winding down.

You settle into bed turning on the TV when you hear keys turning in the lock on your door. Much to your surprise – the door opens and who but Tyler himself is standing in the doorway. He’s just as confused as you. He steps backwards out of the doorway to check the key in his hand and the number on the door. He smiles with a soft huff – shaking his head at something you didn’t know what until later.

“This is the right room according to this,” he holds up the key and closes the door behind him. Suddenly the room feels a hundred times smaller. You feel yourself start to panic.

“They set this up,” Tyler continues. “I know it was Boone,” he laughs setting his bag down on the table near the door. “I’ll sleep on the floor,” he tells you right away to try and ease the fear he can probably see in your eyes.

You don’t have a reply because you’re still shocked he’s standing in your room.

“You did great today by the way,” Tyler was still talking, and you were glad for it.

But you do find your voice, “Thank you.” That actually means a lot to you.

“Wasn’t too bad, was it?” he asks, looking over his shoulder. He’s rifling through his bag.

“No, no,” you feign being nonchalant and he cracks a smile. “Tyler, do you want to check if there’s another room available?” you ask him in the same breath. “I don’t want you to sleep on the floor, that won’t be comfortable at all.”

“Tryin’ to kick me out?” he gives a little wink as he reaches for the phone to call the front desk.

The phone call was quick – not long enough for you to decide which outcome you’d prefer.

Do you want him to stay? if he stayed then you’d have to deal with your crush being in your room all night. Having to play it cool as best you could. Or do you want him to leave? And regret later that you didn’t say anything about how you felt when you had a good chance to in this moment

The choice is made for you in the span of a few seconds.

“No more rooms,” he clicked his tongue. “The floor’ll be fine!”

That’s one of the things you admire most about him. He’s considerate and polite – and he’s happy to be. You know the floor is not comfortable. But he offered like it was the most common thing in the world.

“I am gonna shower first,” he says. “You showered right?” he asks pointing at you, and you nod “yeah! Go for it!”

Now that he knew he was staying, he takes off his boots. Something about them resting on the floor by the doorway makes your heart ache. It’s so close to what it could be like if you were together. A taste of domestic life with Tyler.

He disappears into the bathroom, and you resume flipping through the TV channels. You hope that will distract you from thinking about your crush being very naked and wet on the other side of that door. It’s not like you intentionally linger on it, but when you hear the shower curtain rings slide along the curtain rod and the water kick on - your face warms heavily.

When you hear him quietly hum in the shower, you feel yourself begin to relax. Something about it warms your heart, you think maybe he feels comfortable and doesn’t mind being heard while he hums.

You know the tune, one of the songs he’d been blasting in the truck recently. That makes you think back to being in the tornado again. You can’t believe you did that. Maybe that is your sign to do something else brave. If you could weather that storm surely you could admit your feelings to Tyler.

What if he didn’t feel the same? Then you’d have to awkwardly share a room, and the rest of the time spent working at this job with him knowing you have a crush on him.

How many times have you heard him say “if you feel it, chase it.” If he felt it, would he not have chased it by now? You feel it and you want to chase him, but he makes your knees weak.

What if he does feel the same? How do you maneuver this? There are too many questions, and you don’t know any of the answers. All that you know was you have it bad for him and it hurts. It’s such an ache. Being around him all the time for work, but never having him. You’re embarrassed to admit how much touching his arm earlier was a thrill, it’s all you’d been able to think about.

The more you think about all of this, the harder your heart beats. You’ve barely had time to process anything since he’s been in your room. It gets even worse when the shower stops. You hear when the curtain opens, and when his feet touch the floor.

Then you hear your name.

“There aren’t any towels.”

Oh no. You forgotten you’d used them both. You weren’t expecting to have to share.

“I’ll go get you one! I’m sorry I used them both!” You grab the key and dart out the room, you dn’t even care that someone might see you in your pajamas. You’d rather go grab one for him than wait awkwardly for a towel to be brought up. The less you have to think about him naked in the next room the better for your sanity.

You grab the towels and an extra pillow from the front desk and head back.

“I’m coming in!” You laugh opening the door, and you hear him laugh from the bathroom. “Ok I have them,” you tell him near the bathroom door. He opens it just a smidge and sticks his hand out. You both laugh when you hand him the towels. The awkward moment acknowledged and laughed at instead of worrying about it.

“Thank you,” he replies as he closes the door.

You sit on the bed again, but this time instead of sitting in the middle – you sit more on one side. It’s big enough for you to share so you don’t see why not. It’s not fair for him to sleep on the floor.

As hard as you try to prepare yourself for sharing a bed with him, it lands like a brick in the pit of your stomach when he steps out of the bathroom. The scent of his bodywash hits you first, you always loved how he smells. But just looking at him, he’s a dream.

He’s wearing a soft worn t-shirt and some gym shorts. His hair’s a mess, and it makes you giggle to see it so unruly. He smiles at your quiet laugh.

“Something funny?” he prods running the towel over his head again before hooking it on the back of the door.

“Your hair is always so perfect!”

“You’re getting an exclusive behind the scenes look,” he smiles moving towards the table where he’d put his stuff. He digs through his bag to pull out his phone and charger - plugging it into the nearest outlet.

“Tyler?” your voice comes out timid. He looks up from his phone and sets it down to give you his attention. “You can stay up here,” you point to the empty half of the bed. “I got an extra pillow too.”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” his eyes are soft, his brows furrow.

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable on the floor!”

He’s quiet for a moment. He looks at his hat sitting on the table amongst his things, and he strokes along the brim of the hat. Usually, you’re able to read him but this leaves you a little miffed. It makes your heart start to beat a little faster from the anticipation.

“Alright,” he decides standing up.

Ok, ok. Don’t panic. This is what you asked for.

He checks the lock on the door making sure it’s locked, and he turns off the floor lamp in the corner.

“On or off?” he asks near the bathroom. When you tell him ‘Off’, he taps that light switch and the loud hum from that light stops. The only light now is from the TV across from the bed.

Your heart is fluttering in your chest when he pulls the covers back. When he sits down and you feel his weight on the mattress - that really gets your heart pounding. He pulls the blankets back over himself and lays down with a heavy sigh. You know he’s tired, he’d been driving like a maniac into storms all day.

Though he’s more than just a rowdy storm chaser, he works long hours helping families and doing charity work. You love him for all these things. And you’re glad it’s dark because you feel like you might cry. He’s so close, and you have no idea what to say or do to tell him what you feel.

“Can I turn this off?” you ask trying to hide the quiver in your voice.

“Yes ma’am,” he replies and sinks further into the blankets. Both of you shift to get comfortable now in the dark, and his leg touches yours - causing you to jump. You don’t mean to gasp, but it slips out.

“Sorry!” he laughs and it relieves some tension. Some. You can’t calm down and you don’t know how to. He’s just a few inches away!! You were both lying on your backs, and his shoulder’s almost touching yours. You can still smell his body wash from earlier.

Just say it. Tell him you love him. You survived a tornado today!

You try to hype yourself up, but it isn’t working.

Before you plan out anything to say, you blurt out his name. That’s all you can muster. But this time, it’s worse than before, and your voice quivers audibly. More than that, you’re starting to tremble.

“Hey, hey- it’s ok,” he rolls over on his side to face you. “Me too,” he says and you have no idea what he’s talking about. Until he reachs for you in the dark. “Give me your hand,” he whispers and you roll on your side to face him. You reach towards him, and he gently wraps his hand around your wrist – guiding it to his chest. He puts your hand over his heart, and you feel it pounding under the warmth of his skin and soft shirt. “You see, I have a crush on this girl-“

Your eyes have adjusted in the dark and it’s enough to see the soft, almost shy look he gives you.

“Really?” you whisper. “Me?”

He lets go of your wrist and puts his hand on top of yours and presses down, emphasizing his point.

“Why haven’t you said anything til now? What happened to ‘if you feel it chase it’?”

He clears his throat comically and shifts a little, “Well, I-, ok you got me. Maybe I was a little nervous.” He shrugs. Your hand hasn’t moved from his chest, neither has his hand. He slowly starts to curl his fingers around your hand.

“You? Nervous for me? Do you know what I’ve been thinking about all day today?” you pause. “I can’t believe I’m about to tell you this.” He scoots a little closer to you, ready to listen. “It wasn’t the tornado I’ve been thinking about. It’s been how it felt to touch your arm today.” Your face is on fire. But it gives you a thrill to feel his heart jump and see the smile on his face widen.

He lets go of your hand and hooks his arm so his forearm is close to your face. “Would you like to again?” he teases, and you shove his chest playfully. He laughs, a good deep laugh. He’s relieved and happy. It makes your face hurt from your own smile, and you shyly move your hand from his chest to touch his forearm.

The air shifts. You both feel it when you stroke up and down his arm. You aren’t going to tell him how much you love feeling his arm hair under your fingertips. But he could probably figure it out. Maybe you didn’t mind if he knew.

He reaches for you then, your hand curls around his wrist this time. His hand cradles the back of your head, and he pulls you closer.

“I’m sorry I waited so long for this, I didn’t want to scare you. But truth is I was scared,” he admits.

“I was too, I was scared you didn’t feel the same way,” you whisper back. Your faces are so close to each other, and your bodies almost touching. You can feel the warmth from him.

He lets out a soft grunt like he’s been hit, shocked at what you just said to him.

“Can I?” he asks. You know what he’s asking. His expression is so sweet, so gentle. Another reason you love him. You feel safe in his presence, in his grasp.

“Yes,” you whisper, and then you start to laugh at yourself.

“What?” he smiles laughing.

“I was just gonna say you should ‘chase it’,” you smile. You barely finish the sentence before he closes the gap between you. Warm lips on yours, his nose pressing into your cheek. The stubble on his chin brushes your skin as you whimper into his mouth.

It’s a brief kiss before it breaks. There’s a slight pause where you look at each other smiling, enjoying the moment. Then he dives in for a deeper kiss. His arms pulling you closer, holding you tight to him. Though you wouldn’t dream of pulling away.

At some point you do break apart, both a little breathless. You feel dizzy and lovesick from the way he’s looking at you; something tells you he feels the same.

He starts to laugh again, shaking his head. “We won’t hear the end of this one.”

“Nope,” you smile knowing already what Lily and Dani will have to say.

“I know Boone had a hand in this.”

“Lily and Dani too, they’ve been pushing me to talk to you for weeks,” you giggle burying your face in his neck. He hugs you to him and squeezes. He adds a little reassuring rub on your back. “I’m still scared,” you admit, a secret murmured into his skin.

“I know,” he squeezes again. “Me too. Don’t want to lose you. But you’re worth chasing.”

You hum happily into his neck when a big yawn takes over you.

“Sorry,” you giggle, his laugh joining yours.

“You had a big day. Riding in your first tornado! That and the kissin’ outta wear anybody out,” he winks. Then tilts his head down to kiss your forehead. “Get some sleep.”

“Don’t let go,” you yawn, cuddling into his chest.

He whispers quietly against the top of your head, “never.”

[augustinewrites]

“you’re an idiot.”

“really, doc? you’re gonna insult me after i came all this way to see you?”

you pause what you’re doing to stare down at wriothesley with a wholly unimpressed look. “you were wheeled in on a stretcher.”

(he’d even come in shirtless, one hand resting behind his head all laid out like a fontanian model in a clothing campaign.)

he dismisses the fact with a wave of his good hand, tsking. “only because sigewinne threatened to tranq me if i didn’t get on!”

you know for a fact that the head nurse is still stationed outside the infirmary in case his grace tries to leave without staying for overnight observation.

“she should have done it anyway,” you hum, taking his wrist and using it to carefully position his arm at his side. you nod at the nurse across from you holding the band to keep him steady. “deep breath now, your grace.”

wriothesley draws a breath and releases it quickly, grinning up at you. “so, what are you— fuck!”

“get him a sling,” you instruct, stifling a laugh as you let go of his arm and step back. “i’ll get him an ice pack.”

the two of you move around the infirmary, quickly gathering supplies as the duke lets loose a string of expletives that would make sigewinne faint.

it’s quite entertaining to see the duke pout, holding a heart-patterned ice pack to his shoulder. “i think i deserve a kiss for that.”

“a kiss is going to help with shoulder pain?”

“duh.”

this time, you don’t stifle your laughter as he closes his eyes and puckers his lips.

you pull a sticker from your pocket, pressing it to his waiting lips. “you were a very brave boy.”

his pucker turns into a pout as he uses his good hand to take the sticker off, sticking it to his discarded gauntlets. he looks more like a puppy than a wolf in this state.

with the worst of it out of the way, you begin tending to any scrapes or bruises.

it should be simple, but wriothesley doesn’t make it easy. he flexes playfully whenever your fingertips brush his biceps. insists on holding your hand when the antiseptic touches his wounds.

“okay, you’re all done,” you tell him, peeling off your gloves and tossing them into the bin. “but you will have to stay overnight so we can monitor you for any concussion symptoms.”

his brows raise as he clicks his tongue, smirking. “oh? are you asking me on a date?”

“no,” you say, tucking your clipboard under your arm. “i’m doing my due diligence as your physician.”

“but it’ll just be me and you and this very romantic lighting…”

“it’s dim light because someone keeps forgetting to put in the order for new ones.”

“they’re dim? hm, i didn’t notice. how could i when your smile lights up the room?”

you roll your eyes when he winks, but can’t help the heat you feel spreading across your face. “if you keep this up, i’ll have sigewinne and her tranquilizer gun stay overnight with you instead.”

“if i stop and you stay, will you at least have tea with me?” he asks, a hopeful glimmer in his eye.

“fine, i’ll stay. but only if i get to pick the tea,” you tell him, pulling a chair to the side of his bed and shedding your lab coat to get comfortable. “you’re especially insufferable when you’re injured, aren’t you?”

he reaches out and pulls the chair closer, so you’re sitting between his knees. “and yet, you’re finally succumbing to the temptation of my rock hard abs and winning personality.”

“no,” you deny, but you’d be lying if you said being this close to his spectacularly toned torso wasn’t doing…things to you. “it’s because you have liyue imported tea.”

“yeah,” he says, flashing you a charming, sinful smile that makes the fine hairs on the back of your neck raise, threatening to shatter your resolve. “if you say so.”

[wyldthots]

Mommy's Day Off

Trigger warnings: incest, dubcon, intoxcon, oral(f!r), Dom mommy, corruption kink if you squint. If any of these things trigger you, do not interact. MDNI.

Mommy and I hardly ever get time for a 'mommy & me day' with how much she works. Since she got married and we moved, she had to start working a second job to help cover the cost of new bills. Today is a rare day off for her, but since my new stepdaddy has to work it's just us girls today.

Since mommy doesn't get a ton of days off, we only do stuff that we want to do. The things we need to do can happen another day. Today we decided to lay on the couch and binge movies. I saw mommy eat a candy as she settled in on the couch. They were one of her "relaxation candies". I had asked before to have one and she had said no. Today, though, she offered me one.

"If you eat this candy, you have to behave so well for mommy. She only gets this one day off and you need to be good." I promise not to ruin mommy's day off, and the gummy had a weird aftertaste if I'm being honest...

Mommy has been so nice to me lately when we go to sleep. Says she's still "making up for lost time" by helping me feel good. While we watch our movies, mommy lays close to me on the couch and keeps running her fingertips over any exposed skin; my calves, up my thighs, tickles along my ribs, working her fingers up my neck and through my hair.

It's been about an hour since our lazy day started and my breathing gets heavy as I feel this weird pressure in my head.

"Oh, baby... That candy is doing its job on you." Mommy cups my face in her hands and tilts my face up to softly press kisses to my jaw and lips. "Tell mommy how you feel, baby. Help mommy enjoy her day."

"I need you. Mommy, I'm so tingly. Need you to touch me like you do." I gasp out my desires as I struggle to keep my eyes open. These relaxation candies are really strong...

I don't know how much time has passed, but I know this is the best I have ever felt. My clit is throbbing and so sensitive. Oh, everything is so wet... and it finally clicks that mommy is licking my pussy. My back arches and mommy buries herself deeper in me. Her strong tongue caresses and flicks at my clit before splitting my folds and shoving her tongue and two fingers deep into me. I'm lost in my pleasure as my hips ride my mommy's face while she cheers me on to finish.

She pops the suction off my clit. Mommy works her way up my body licking and biting to her heart's content. Her fingers piston into me while her thumb rubs my clit and her hot mouth is suckling on my nipple. "mph, fuck. So good. Oh, can do so much more with you now..." Mommy's voice is muffled by the pounding in my ears and my nipple shoved in her mouth.

My body goes through a hard reset. Hot liquid courses through me as my body quakes and a frantic harmony of "ah, ah, ah ahhh, aaahhh" leaves my lungs as I have the most intense orgasm of my life. My body goes completely lax as the world around me goes dark. I am nudged awake with the consistent lapping at my sensitive pussy and groan while pushing away the head between my legs.

"Baby, that was so good. You can keep having candies if that's how horny a little pot makes you." Mommy grabs under both of my knees and pushes them down and out while her eyes never stray from my cunt. "I'm gonna fuck you with my strap next. Maybe I'll teach you how to lick mommy's pussy and we can really have fun today." Mommy chuckles while she returns her mouth to my drippy pussy.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Creature Feature.

Yandere: Yandere!Miguel x Reader.

Word Count: 1.3k.

TW: Non/Con, AFAB!Reader, Unhealthy Relationships, Manipulation, Mentions of Non-Human Anatomy, Obsessive Behavior, and Rough Sex.

You weren’t sure when you decided the man living in your house and fathering your daughter was not your husband.

It might’ve been last week, when you caught him sitting in his unlit study hours after he’d promised he would come to bed, his eyes glowing vaguely red as he fiddled with a device you didn’t recognize with tools you’d never seen him use, before. It might’ve been two months ago, when Gabi’s teacher called you into a conference to discuss your daughter’s worrying new obsession with spiders and superheroes and the holographic women that, if what she’s been telling her classmates is to be believed, read her bedtime stories when her father wasn’t home. It might’ve been that first night – when he came home from work hours late and doting a black eye, missing the glasses you would never see him wear again and too shell-shocked to do anything more than stand in Gabi’s doorway and let you fuss over him. You’d done everything you should’ve, kissed his cheek and begged him to tell you what happened and pretended to believe him when he said there’d been an accident at the research facility, but it hadn’t felt right, hadn’t felt like it would’ve if you’d been taking care of the man you’d loved for most of your life.

And, when he snapped out of his daze long enough to drag you into his arms and pull you into a kiss more forceful than anything your Miguel would’ve been capable of, you couldn’t help but shudder, but draw back when his hands started to drift lower and he proved to share your husband’s instability, if only that. That was what made the final decision, really. He wasn’t your husband, but it wasn’t as if you couldn’t see a glimmer of something you recognized when you looked at him.

Or, it wasn’t as if you couldn’t normally see a glimmer of something you recognized.

Right now, you knew the man on top of you was a total stranger.

He wasn’t Miguel. He couldn’t have been. Miguel would never hold you so tightly, never dig his fingertips so deeply into your waist, never be so determined to keep you so suffocatingly close to him. His nails would never be so sharp – pointed claws piercing your skin, drawing blood that dripped down your sides and pooled on the sheets beneath you – and he’d never been so massive, either, bulging muscle lining his arms, his defined chest heaving with every ragged breath and strangled moan, both a far cry from the borderline malnourished lab-rat that was the love of your life. His face was malformed, misshapen; curved fangs poking past his parted lips, distorting the shape of his mouth and leaking drops of luminescent venom that fell onto your chest and coated everything they touched with the same numbing, buzzing static. Even his eyes – the eyes you’d always loved, the eyes you would’ve known if nothing else of your husband remained – were gone, drowned out by the shadows cast over his face, the darkness you couldn’t seem to shake when he was around. What little remained was tinted red and bloodshot, pushed miles past the point of remote familiarity. You’d let this stranger, this thing into your home. You’d let him drive your daughter to school, look after her when she was sick.

You hadn’t let him fuck you, but he was fucking you, and you hadn’t been able to stop him.

The sounds he was making were awful, too. Your husband had been adorably shy, prone to biting his tongue and repeating your name over and over and over again, as if the feeling of your cunt milking his cock made it impossible to remember anything else. This Miguel was, in comparison, couldn’t seem to stop making those terrible noises; throaty grunts and airy moans spilling past his lips, only partially muffled by your skin as he buried his face in the curve of your throat. One of his hands fell to your thighs, curling around it and forcing your knee against your chest, making it so he could force himself that much deeper into you, so he could thrust into you with that much more raw strength. You were glad Gabi was staying at a friend’s, tonight. Her room was next to yours, and you would’ve been surprised if there was an apartment in your building that couldn’t hear your headboard beating against the wall, couldn’t make out every pitchy rise and fall of the drawn-out whine choked out of some deep, vulnerable pocket in your chest as he buried those pointed fangs in the crook of your neck.

You felt him force something into you, your vision blurring as the blood seemed to smolder in your veins. Suddenly, the feeling of his pelvic bone catching on your clit was unbearable, your own slick now burning as it dripped down your thighs. It wasn’t a whine you let out, this time, but a sob – ragged and broken, hitched as it emerged from uncooperative lungs and further fractured by the way his chest pressed into yours as he straightened his back, as he drew back just far enough to smile down at you, to let those cruel eyes go soft and half-lidded. “Oh, mi amor…” You didn’t notice you were crying until his hand cupped your face, until his thumb swiped over your cheek and came away wet. “I could fall in love with you all over again.”

Your husband would never say that. Your husband would never imply that there ever could’ve been a world where he wasn’t in love with you, that there ever could’ve been a life he would’ve led that wouldn’t feature you at its center. Your husband would never grow fangs and claws and force himself on you with all the care and tenderness of a rampaging monster. Your husband—

Your husband wasn’t here.

Your husband wasn’t here, and it didn’t seem like he’d ever be coming back.

You curled into yourself, sobbing unabashedly. Miguel (or, whatever the creature on top of you called himself) welcomed your devastation with open arms, leaning back and pulling you onto his lap, bouncing you on his cock as a low, reverberating purr sparked in the base of his throat and filled what little empty space was left in your bedroom. He watched on as you scrambled to wrap your arms around his neck, letting out a breathy laugh as he nuzzled into the dip of your shoulder and went on. “Fucking beautiful,” he groaned, his cock practically throbbing against the walls of your cunt. “I don’t know how I got by without you. I’m never—” A fractured moan, the tips of pointed teeth ghosting over your jugular. “I’m never letting you leave my side again.”

It was a promise, a threat, spoken with enough dedication to send a cold shudder up the length of your spine. You only realized your mouth had fallen open when you heard your own voice, distant and distraught. “Who... who are you?”

Some part of you expected him to devolve, for what was left of his disguise to fall away and reveal rows upon rows of jagged teeth that would tear into your skin, countless eyes that would stare you down like some trapped insect, half a dozen more arms and hands he could use to grab and grope and pull and maim. You expected blood to spill by the bucketful, flesh to melt away like candlewax, rough edges and broken anatomy and all the terrible monstrosities that had to be lingering inside of a creature like him. You expected all the worst things you could possibly imagine, but in the end, what you got was so, so much worse.

His manic grin melted into a softened smile. He pressed another open-mouthed kiss into your throat before pulling away, staring down at you with more love than anything human could’ve spared. “I’m your husband.” And then, again, as he settled so deeply inside of you, you could only pray you’d be able to forget the feeling of him, one day.

“I’m yours.”

[nanamin-nah-nanamine]

Fushiguro Tojo doesn't bottom(or does he?)

cw: degradation, mean! toji,nsfw content, bunny's humor. AFAB reader, she/her pronouns use of the words cunt and clit. 1.6k word count.

“You wanna what?”he drawled, speech muddled by the toothpick hanging out of the corner of his mouth. The room was warm, the light dimmed and candles burning. You were kneeled behind him, massaging his shoulders and peppering the back of his neck with kisses. 

“Wanna have a little fun with you”you purred, leaning forward so your chest was snug against his back and your lips were brushing the shell of his ear. 

“Scared of a little finger, Toji?”you goaded. You could feel his scowl through his skull. 

“Ain’t scared of shit”he muttered, groaning as you dug your nails deeper into his tense muscles. 

“Shiu’s been working you”you hum, letting your hands wrap around to run your nails along his pecs. His breath hitches as the sharp tips catch on his nipples. 

“Getting big, Toji”you purr, rubbing the brown nubs until they pebble beneath your fingertips. You feel a rough hand grabbing yours stopping you in your tracks, pulling you forward over his shoulder for you to see unamused green eyes. “

You know better”he rumbles, running his thumb along the pad of your hand. “Leave my chest, girl.” You sigh fully letting your body slump over his shoulder.

“Can’t touch your tits, can’t finger your ass” you grumble, “just say you hate me,” you feel him chuckle more than you can hear it. His shoulders bouncing slightly, jostling you just enough to be mildly uncomfortable. 

“If I ever say I hate you”he says, tugging a little harder causing you to topple over his shoulder onto the bed in front of him, starfished and disoriented with two gleaming eyes staring down at you. And a stupidly handsome smirk. “You better kill my ass”he finishes, bringing one of those big hands to rub your cheeks. You huff, moving languidly to reorient yourself. 

“Then let me play with your ass,”you say, a pout forming on your lips. “I’ll be gentle–”

“Baby–”

“Toji”you press, leaning up to squish his cheeks between your hands. He let out a growl and leaned forward to bite your fingers.

 “Paws off the merchandise”He says, practically ripping your fingers off his face. “Ain’t no dog to be petting”

“You’re right”you say, “You’re more of a cat”

“Girl..”he warns. 

“A big cat”you placate rolling your eyes, “like a panther”

“Panthers ain’t nothing more than glorified kittens”he huffs.

“I’d like to see you take down a panther then—wait”you narrow your eyes, “don’t change the subject, take your pants off”

“Cute”he chuckles, “you demandin’ things from me, girl?”

The mood seemed to shift in an instant, his eyes darkening, tracking what seemed to be everything about you down to the beat of your pulse. Your breath hitches when he leans forward, crowding so close that you lean in for a kiss but end up on your back, caged between two strong arms. Toji leans down, his breath fanning over your lips, his eyes lidded and heavy and wanting.

“I’m gonna ask you again”he whispers, smirking at the tremor that ran underneath your veins. It was like he could taste your adrenaline.

“Were you asking, or were you demanding me?”

“I plead the fifth?”you say.

“So cute”he mumbles, running his nose along the hollow of your neck. “If you wanted me to fuck you so badly, you should’ve just said..”he grips the inside of your thigh tight, prying your legs apart. “Askin to finger me…”He chuckles, running his finger along the front of your panties to rub at your aching clit. “Poor little thing just wanted some attention,” he pulls your panties to the side, running the pad of his fingers along your folds, ‘Mama’s been purring for me this whole time and I didn't even know.” “Poor baby”he purrs, letting his finger slip inside your cunt. “she’s cryin’ for me”

You gasp at the feeling of his rough fingers prodding at your hole, only having a few seconds to catch your breath before he’s plunging them inside of you. One hand pressing down on your tummy to keep you from squirming. He’s looming over you, his fingers curling roughly against that sweet little spot.

“Breathe”he croons in your ear, biting on the lobe of it. He’s pushing harder on your tummy and you take in a shuddered breath, feeling the pleasure wash over you in waves that seemed almost tidal.

“Toji”You moan, gripping at the large hand splayed over your tummy, digging into the flesh as an anchor. You can barely hear yourself over the sound of the blood rushing to your ears. The squelching of your cunt background to the sound of your moans.

“T-Toji”you whimper, gripping his hand harder, trying to hold onto your original goal. 

“W-want..want..”

“Want want”he mocks in your ear, cruel and biting as he adds another finger; his pace brutal.

“Always fuckin’ want somethin’ girl, like I don’t give you the world.” he punctuates his words with a particularly rough thrust, soothing your cunt with a fat thumb on your clit. Through blurry lashes you can see his eyes glisten with a dangerous gleam.

“Tell you what,”he muses, pushing his thrusts but still rubbing languidly at your clit to soothe your whines. “You last more than five minutes, and I'll let you play with my ass. Good deal, girl?”

It would be a good deal, a great deal even if you weren’t already close. You played a lot of losing games with Toji but this had to be his cruelest one. A frustrated tear slips down your cheek and he has the nerve to laugh, his sharp canines on display as he licks the tear off your cheek.

“What?”he teases, his fingers slowly but surely continuing their assault. “Not even gonna try?–

oh, y’er squeezin’ around me already? What’s got you so worked up, hm?”

What’s got you so worked up? You wanted to murder him, take that stupid pistol sitting in the bedside table and bust a cap in his ass.

“What is it, girl?”he whispers, curling his fingers again with the intent to ruin you. The pads of his fingers rubbing against your g-spot in tandem with the thumb on your clit.

“Hm?”he hums, “what’s going on in the pretty little head?”

“T-Toji”you choke out, your thighs trembling.

“Thinkin’ about me?”he intones, “y’er pretty little fingers in my ass? Sluttin’ me out an’ makin’ me your bitch?”

His thumb on your clit presses down a little harder, his own breath trembling a bit. You begin to shake your head but the hand on your clit quickly snaps up to grab your head and nod it manually.

“Don’t lie to me, girl”he grins ferally, “you want me face down, ass up on this bed for you moanin’ like a bitch”

The heel of his hand drilling into you slapped against your clit in the most delicious way.

“T-Toji!”you cry out, tears continuing to roll down your cheeks.

“That’s it”he coos, “my girl’s close, isn’t she? Always knew you were a freak but this is new”

Your face burns with humiliation, the feeling intertwining with the arousal deep in the pit of your stomach, sending your careening head first into an orgasm. You don’t know how many minutes it’s been, but if he kept fucking talking then there was no way you were going to last.

“Please”you beg, for what you don’t even know. He shushes you, pressing his lips against yours, with him this close you could see the flush on his face and the knit of his brow. This was turning him on just as much as you.

“Quiet, girl”he mumbles, sucking sloppily on the hollow of your neck, “you know i’ll always get you there, just let this pussy speak t’me”

He’s closer now, his cock rubbing against your hip roughly. “P-pretty little fingers just wanna fuck me”he grits out. 

Your jaw drops a bit and your back arches.

 “a-and i’m the freak?”you pant out, “yet you can’t stop talking about it?”

His eyes narrow and that’s the last thing you see before your vision whites out and your cunt is gripping his fingers like a vice, cum dripping down his arms like honey. You tune back in moments later to his eyes screwed shut and his jaw slack and he’s cumming. You could feel the thickness of it seeping through the front of his sweats onto your thigh where he was rubbing. The only difference was it seems like he kept cumming. He wasn’t a very vocal lover, but he was moaning, biting down hard on his bottom lip to muffle more of the sluttier sounds. You hadn't even realized when you gripped his chest for comfort, your fingers were rubbing against his nipples and he was liking it.

It seemed like he kept cumming forever before his hips jerked for a final time and he collapsed on top of you. Damn near two tons of man crushing your body into the mattress. You could feel his heart beating through his chest, his breathing was shaky when even a full day of cardio couldn’t affect him.

“So..”you pant, running a hand through his damp hair. “Gonna let me finger you next time?”

You felt him mumble something against your shoulder that sounded familiar, but you needed to be sure.

“Come again?”you tease. He pulled his face away from the crook of his neck and he was scowling but he was red.

“I said maybe”he grumbles, his fingers leaving your cunt to pinch your clit meanly.

“An’ stop being a brat before I make you cum again.”

“You say that like it’s a threat”you giggle, soothing your fingers over his scalp.

“And you act like that orgasm didn’ damn near kill you, girl”he chuckles, planting a kiss on yout shoulder. “Now stop bein’ a freak and sleep, ‘m fuckin tired”

“Oh so i’m the freak–”

“Sleep, girl”

hi guys! this is my first full length fic and I got bit by the Toji bug and he's been rotting my brain and my pussy for the past week so we've got this now. if you guys enjoy please be sure to rb,comment,leave a like or come yell at me! lmk if you wanna see more things like this as well. Pls validate me I’m quaking in my boots.

[flemingology]

morning bliss ─ leah williamson x reader

in which: it's leah's birthday and you surprise her, in a slightly different way

warnings: smut (18+), oral (r giving), fingering (r giving), dirty talk

wc: 2.1K

a/n: based on this request. struggled to get this one over the line and not really pleased with how it turned out but hope you enjoy!

March 29th. Leah's 27th birthday. You'd mapped out this day ages ago, meticulously arranging and fitting every surprise you had for her in the plan of action for the day – making sure Leah got to soak up all the birthday love. It didn't come often that you could properly celebrate her birthday. A schedule as busy as hers wasn't very forgiving, the calendar hung on the wall in your home office always littered with Leah's appointments throughout the week. It went much further than just training sessions and games. It was media, events, shoots, and so on. To have a day off on her birthday was a wonder, and you wanted to make use of it.

The breeze of an early spring morning is what caused you to wake up today. The rising sun cast a golden glow upon your shared room, giving off some of its warmth in the process. You heard a deep exhale coming from the sleeping figure of your blonde lover, limbs entangled with yours and her back pulled flush against your chest. She was still fast asleep, remnants of a late night at the training centre because she was pulled into a few unexpected meetings.

You carded a hand through her blonde locks, pressing a soft kiss against the back of her head which caused her to stir against you, but she didn't wake up. You let your hands roam over her side, reveling in the feeling of her sculptured abdomen tensing up when your fingers roamed across them. Your fingertips ran lower down her body, brushing up and down her legs which caused goosebumps to form on her bare skin.

Spurred on by the way her warm skin felt against your fingertips, you pulled Leah's hair to the side and started pressing a couple soft, tender kisses against the nape of her neck. You could feel how tense the muscles were there, making a mental note to offer her a massage later in the day. You knew she put heaps of pressure on herself every day, not only to perform but also to be the best version of herself. You retreated your hand from her legs and pulled it back up to her upper body, sneaking it under her shirt and softly teasing one of her nipples, that hardened at the touch. A soft gasp escaped Leah's lips, her body nearing on the brink of waking up but not quite there yet.

You pulled her impossibly closer, licking a stripe from the juncture between her neck and collarbone right up to her ear, nipping on her earlobe before you pulled away. Right on cue, you heard a soft groan coming from your girlfriend who was still tightly tucked against your chest. "Good morning, baby," she groggily said. "Good morning it is," you quipped back before lowering your head. "Let me show you how much better I can make it," you whispered in Leah's ear before you carefully flipped the two of you over, not wanting to startle her too much seen as she had just woken up. She sat up against the pillows, making herself comfortable while you trailed kisses down her body.

You played with the hem of her shirt and silently asked for permission to take it off, Leah nodding and giving you a lopsided grin. You could still see the tiredness on her face but it was fading quickly, excited about what was coming her way. You immediately latched your mouth onto one of Leah's nipples and rubbed the other between your thumb and index finger, not teasing and torturing her like you normally would. It was her special day today, so you figured you should go easy on her and just give her what you knew she wanted.

Leah's hands quickly nestled themselves into your hair, tugging harshly whenever a particularly good swirl of your tongue around her nipples made a spark of arousal go down between her legs. Before long you detached your mouth from her breasts and lowered yourself, littering her stomach with kisses and leaving a mark every now and then – sucking and biting on the skin before soothing the sting with a languid lick of your tongue.

"Fuck, baby. This is surely one way to wake me," you grinned against her skin and looked up at her through your eyelashes. "Figured you'd enjoy it. Lay back and relax, Le. Today's about you," you told her before going back to the task at hand, now finally having reached the waistband of her shorts. You looked up at her in silent question and before you could even register a response, she was already lifting her hips from the bed allowing you to slip off the last two pieces of clothing that were putting a border between your bodies.

"You undress too, please," you took a look at yourself to realize you were still fully clothed, quickly getting rid of her your sleep shirt and sweatpants, leaving you in just your underwear as you turned your attention back onto your girlfriend, who was eagerly waiting to be touched. You lowered your head down between her legs which she instinctively spread, the action causing you to smile but you decided not to tease her about it.

You wet your lips and dove straight in, licking a long, slow stripe from Leah's entrance up until her sensitive bundle of nerves sitting exposed at the top, begging for attention. Your action earned you a deep groan from Leah, whose hands fisted your hair. "You taste incredible, baby," you mumbled against her. The vibrations of your voice against her core sent jolts of pleasure through her body, throwing her head back and biting her lip to conceal a near-pornographic moan.

"Eyes on me, Le. And I want to hear you, please," you said before continuing your ministrations, focusing on making her feel as good as you possibly could. You hooked your arms under her thighs and pulled her closer to you, positioning her legs over your shoulders. You took her clit in your mouth and started expertly sucking and flicking your tongue across it, while bringing your other hand up and teasing her sopping entrance with a finger. "God, you're soaked. All for me, hmm?", you teased her. She quipped back with a grunt, while rolling her hips into your hand trying to create more friction than what you were giving her.

"I need you inside me, please," Leah whimpered, and you repositioned yourself so that you could comfortably work your arm between her legs. You gathered some arousal from her entrance and spread it through her folds, making a wet mess from her core. Not wanting her to get overly sensitive from the wetness, you trailed your fingers back down and carefully started pushing one inside of her entrance.

"Oh shit," Leah cursed as her back arched off the bed. If any tiredness was still lingering, you were certain that it'd be gone now. You felt how tight her tunnel closed around your fingers and stilled them to let her adjust, not wanting to cause her any pain. Soon enough Leah began to move her hips, looking for more friction so you filled her to the hilt, knuckles brushing against her folds. You slowly pulled out, before pushing a second finger inside of her entrance.

A particularly loud moan escaping your girlfriend's lips filled you with lust, starting to slam your fingers in and out of her. You could feel the bed move beneath you with every thrust, tightening the grip you had on one of her thighs so her body didn't move away from you at the sheer force of your thrusts.

"Oh," Leah started but got interrupted by one of her own moans. "Oh God, that's good. Fuck. You fuck me so good," her words spurred you on as you tried a third finger, feeling how her walls stretched to accommodate to another finger. "Fuck, you're so wet for me, Le. You're sucking my fingers in, it's so hot."

You got lost in a trance as you watched Leah's core suck in your fingers every time you pulled them back, walls clenching around your digits to keep hold of them. You were still pistoning your fingers in and out of Leah's core as you felt her hand tap the top of your head, immediately slowing your thrusts. You looked up at her with a concern-filled gaze, immediately relaxing when you saw a satisfied, worn out look on her face. "I want you up here with me when I cum, please."

A loving smile spread across your lips upon hearing those words, basking in the softness of the moment. "Anything for you", you quipped back before moving back up her body, making sure your fingers stayed inside of her to not rid her of any pleasure. Admittedly it wasn't the most comfortable, but you angled your body around Leah's to be as close as possible to her, but not to rest any weight on her. You held yourself up on your arm as you pressed a tender kiss against her neck while you started thrusting your fingers again in a steady pace.

One of Leah's hands tangled itself in your hair again, while the other wrapped around the back of your neck keeping you close to her. Profanities fell from her lips as you could feel – by the way she was tightening around your fingers – she was growing closer to her peak. Albeit her moans growing louder, you could feel that she needed something more to finish her off, to tip her over the edge. You leaned your head down and nipped on her earlobe before you whispered. "You feel so good around my fingers, Le. I love the feeling of being inside of you," you heard how her breath hitched before she let out another high-pitched moan.

"You wanna cum for me, baby? Wanna cum around my fingers? You look so beautiful like this, all spread out for me," you whispered further before licking a stripe up from the base of Leah's neck back up to her ear. Right on cue you could feel how her core gripped your fingers tight, muscles spasming around your fingers. Her face was overcome with pure bliss, throwing her head back into the pillows and letting out a few near pornographic moans that would surely let the neighbors know about your activities this morning.

You started to slow down your thrusts, not wanting to overstimulate your girlfriend but also wanting to draw out her pleasure as long as possible. A tired, satisfied smile overcame her face when her muscles finally relaxed, sinking deeper into the mattress and against the pillows. You waited until she opened her eyes and looked at you to pull your fingers out of her still dripping wet core, before you brought your fingers up to your mouth. You teasingly bobbed your head up and down while sucking Leah's juices off your fingers, to which she groaned and bit her lip. You leaned forward and bit her bottom lip. "Happy birthday, my love."

"Fuck, you're so hot. And you make me feel so good. Thank you," you pushed a strand of hair out of her face and pressed a tender kiss against her lips, enjoying the sweet moment between the two of you before you inevitably had to get up and get started with your day. "If anyone is hot here, it's you. Honestly you should feel how wet I am right now, just from hearing you and from making you feel good," Leah chuckled at this and you could see a glint of mischief in her eyes. You could feel a hand that was starting to wander from your back towards your front and heading to the waistband of your underwear, but you stopped her ministrations before she could start anything.

"Nope," you started, popping the p. Leah retreated her hand with a pout. "Not right now. Today's about you, miss Williamson. To start you off I've made a reservation at that new brunch place a couple minutes from here," you said as a grateful smile spread across her face. You were not the one for big gestures, but you made her feel seen. She felt listened to.

"Well, I suppose we best get cleaned up," Leah started, a twinkle in her eye. "And we should save water, really," you cocked an eyebrow at her in fake confusion. She sighed and rolled herself out of bed, holding her arm out for you to get up too. "You, me, shower. Right now."

Safe to say you didn't make it to brunch in time.

[little-diable]

Drunken Minds Sober Hearts - Dean Winchester (smut)

We love a good friends to lovers fic, especially with Dean, don't we? Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Drunk off her face the reader told Dean, her best friend, that she hasn't slept with anybody because she wants him to be her first. But will she admit to that when she's sober too?

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, loss of virginity, outdoor, oral (f), friends to lovers

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (about 2k words)

The cold breeze teased her arms, leaving (y/n) shuddering with her back pressed to the blanket and her eyes focused up ahead. Even though Dean emanated enough warmth to make her feel his closeness, deep down she knew that she wasn’t trembling like a leaf because of the cold, but because of the awfully intimate touch this moment had to it.

No words were spoken between the two as they kept staring at the night sky, trying to count the stars that were twinkling for them only—or at least that’s what it felt like. She felt Dean’s hand close to hers, about to touch, about to interlace their fingers, and yet neither of them dared to cross the distance between them just yet.

Dean had asked her hours ago if she trusted him and if he could take her somewhere to distract them from past hunts and exhausting weeks. And who was she to say no to Dean Winchester—her best friend, her better half, her one true love—even though he knew nothing of the feelings she harbored for him.

“There’s something I wanted to ask you.” Dean cleared his throat, letting his head roll towards her as he spoke. She didn’t reply, only looked at him as she waited for him to continue.

“I don’t think you remember much of Saturday night. But you said something to me, something I can’t stop thinking of.” Heat rose to her face as Dean’s words began to sink in. Saturday night hadn’t been her proudest moment; with too many shots poured down her throat, she had eventually lost control, blabbering away things she now couldn’t remember.

“Is it true that you haven’t allowed anybody to touch you because you want me to be your first?” She choked on her breath, having to sit up to try and let some air flood through her aching lungs. Her body was burning up in embarrassment while she made a silent promise to never drink again. She felt Dean’s hand on her back, softly rubbing circles on the fabric of her sweater as she tried to calm down.

“Did I really say that?” (Y/n) couldn’t look at her best friend and was trying to figure out how she could get the ground to open up and swallow her whole. But before she could even begin to plan her escape, Dean’s hand had found her chin, tilting it up for her to look at him.

“Hey, that’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” Her words got stuck in her throat as Dean’s thumb found her mouth, carefully pulling her lower lip from the grasp her teeth had on the thin skin. Both looked at one another as if they could read each other’s minds, deciphering every emotion flushing through their systems, emotions that urged their movements as Dean’s lips found hers.

Dean didn’t allow her to break away as he pulled her into his lap, slowly feeling (y/n) relax in his grasp. Her arms found their way around his neck, getting lost in a kiss both had only imagined but never dared to speak of. The kiss was slow, allowing both to adjust to the sensation and yet it was urged on by their longings and fears, by whatever had managed to hold them back for the past years. 

“I need you to be honest with me, sweetheart. Was it the truth?” Dean murmured his words against her slightly swollen lips. His hands kept a tight grasp on her, fingertips running along the seam of her sweatshirt, about to disappear beneath the thick fabric. 

“It is the truth, and I’m sorry for drunkenly dumping that on you.” She tried to look away, tried to focus on anything but Dean, but the hunter’s grasp only grew tighter, not daring to let her go. Another kiss was pressed against her lips, a kiss that drew a soft moan from (y/n), a sound that gave Dean the needed push to flip them around. Their eyes held contact as Dean hovered over her, admiring every part of her frame. 

“We shouldn’t do this out here, you deserve a bed, something comfortable.” The concern dripping from Dean’s words left (y/n) chuckling, she pulled him back down for a kiss, and let her legs wrap around his waist to feel his growing erection against her covered heat. Both moaned in unison from the new friction this movement offered, a sensation so addicting, (y/n) knew there was no way to ever let go of Dean again. 

“I don’t need a bed, Dean. I just want you, and to be honest, something boring isn’t our style anyway, is it?” His chuckles vibrated through her body as Dean kissed his way down her throat, letting his hands pull her sweater up to her chest. The groan that clawed through him was raspier than any sound she had heard before, allowing her eyes to wander over his handsome features while his eyes focused on her naked, braless chest. 

“You’re fucking beautiful, (y/n).” No longer did she feel the cold breeze stroking her, no longer did she pick up on the whispers warning her of the way she’d lose herself tonight. All (y/n) could focus on was Dean, the man who had always owned her heart, the man she’d give her life for. 

(Y/n)’s head rolled back as his lips found her naked chest, sucking on one hardening nub while his free fingers took care of the other. Dean wanted to comment on how perfectly she fit into his hands, how it felt as if she had been created for him only, but his words got stuck in his throat as his middle moved against hers again, creating just enough friction for the both of them. 

“Can I taste you? Fuck, I’ve been wanting to do that for years.” Dean’s whispers left (y/n) choking on her gasps, unable to reply with any words. All she could do was shoot him an eager nod while raising her hips for Dean to pull her jeans down her legs. Once again, a growl managed to break out of Dean, a sound that forced (y/n) to drown in the different sensations she was held hostage by. 

“You’re soaked, baby.” The comment drew a whine from (y/n), she had to grasp the blanket, had to find something to hold onto before she’d grow too eager, needing to feel whatever Dean could offer her. 

His warm fingers pushed her soaked panties aside, he gave himself a few moments to study her, hoping that he could burn this very image into his mind – forever remembering it as if he were a blind man being offered his sight back for only a handful of seconds. And for that, he’d always choose (y/n), studying the woman he felt deeply connected to. 

Dean’s tongue brushed against her pulsing bundle, leaving (y/n) moaning. He ate her out with an unfamiliar kind of urgency, offering her a glimpse into what was awaiting her. Heaven – the pearly gates – or simply the love both couldn’t deny any longer.

Whatever it was, it pushed her closer towards Dean, hearts and souls connected. 

“Dean,” (y/n) sobbed his name as he pushed two fingers into her tightness, letting them curl against the swollen spot he instantly managed to find. With her back arched off the blanket, and her thighs quivering, (y/n) forced her eyes back up to the night sky. She needed to focus on something else, keeping herself from giving in way too quickly. 

She had never allowed another man to touch her like this, deep down she had been too stuck on the possibility of Dean loving her, holding onto the thinnest thread of hope that had been close to snapping – a thread that now got woven into a thick rope, unable to ever snap apart. 

Her shaking fingers found his hair, tugging on the roots to draw a raspy groan from Dean, a sound that forced her gaze back down to him. And as they looked at one another, pupils filled with love, adoration, and longing, (y/n) felt herself being pushed over the edge. She came with a cry, had to squeeze her eyes shut to hold onto this feeling, the blinding sensation that had never felt this strong when she had touched herself to the thought of Dean. 

“Jesus, Dean. What even was that?” The sound of his chuckles echoed through the night. He moved up her body to find her lips for a kiss, letting their tongues tangle as she tasted herself on the strong muscle. Her hands disappeared beneath his shirt, feeling his muscles tense beneath her touch. 

“Only the beginning, sweetheart.” He let go of her to undo his belt before reaching for his wallet to pull a condom free. She took it from his grasp while he freed his twitching cock from the confines of his trousers, staring down at (y/n) whose eyes had that special twinkle to them. His heart swelled in his chest at the mere sight of her, grateful that he finally got a chance to express his feelings, to leave his anxiety behind – all so he could love her the way she deserved to be loved. 

Their eyes held contact as she rolled the condom down his aching length with shaking fingers, as she laid back down on the blanket, and as Dean positioned himself at her entrance. 

“Tell me if it hurts too much, I’ll be careful.” (Y/n)’s arm found its way around his neck to pull Dean down for a kiss. The second their lips met, he pushed into her, drawing a pained whimper from her. He held still for a moment, allowing her to adjust before he kept on moving, sinking further into her tightness. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight. You feel so good, baby.” Dean’s gritty voice left her walls clenching around him, wordlessly begging him for more. With his weight shifted onto his forearm, Dean started moving quicker, adding more strength to his thrusts to draw the sweetest moans from (y/n). 

“Don’t stop, don’t ever stop touching me, Dean.” She sobbed her words as her fingernails began leaving crescent shapes on his neck. (Y/n)’s thighs quivered around his waist, she was torn between all different sensations, unsure what to focus on, while her second orgasm was close to flushing through her all too quickly. 

“Touch yourself, make yourself cum on my cock.” His command left (y/n) gasping, forcing her eyes back up towards Dean’s green ones. The smirk playing on his lips was enough to leave her sweating in need while feeling him buried oh so deep inside of her. She rubbed her pulsing bundle with quick movements, set on pushing herself over the edge while Dean fucked her into the blanket. 

“Dean,” his name left her lips like a prayer, in desperate need of guidance, unsure what to do with the massive wave of emotions which were about to flush through her. And with another whine leaving her, (y/n) came for Dean, allowing him to watch her unfold right in front of his eyes. He kept fucking her, didn’t want to give in before he had managed to push her through the intense sensation, only as she relaxed beneath him did Dean finally give in with her name leaving him. 

“Promise to hold onto me forever, Dean.” (Y/n) panted the words with a smile glued to her lips. Her fingers brushed through his hair, desperate to keep on feeling every part of him. 

“Let the stars be my witnesses, I promise to love you till the day I die, sweetheart.”

[ma1dita]

A Luke and Trouble smut in the car

a/n: she's back.... and with a trouble!verse smut gasp. anyways if you haven't read the series all you need to know is luke calls her trouble. if you do wanna check it out, read 'partners in crime' here!

luke castellan x fem!dionysus!reader

wc: 1.1k

“We’re gonna be late,” you grumble under your breath. The sun is setting on Long Island faster than you and your boyfriend thought it would with the old hatchback slowly inching through Queens traffic. 

There’s only an hour left before curfew. 

And Luke Castellan drives like someone’s blind grandpa.

“Relax, babe—once we get onto the expressway, we’ll be straight sailing from there!” Luke says, with a hint of a smile prodding at his cheek. You were never a patient person, fidgeting in the passenger seat next to him, sweaty thighs stuck to worn leather. The air vents are tired, sounding like gasping coughs, and every car in New York City seems to be inching forward and unable to pick up the breeze.

“You said that forty minutes ago.”

“C’mon, it’s not all that bad, trouble. We get to have some extra time together. And be alone,” his voice is as smooth as the rumbling engine, taking his fingertips to the soft of your thigh. You’d find him sweet if you didn’t feel like ripping all your clothes off right now. “You know how rare that is for us.”

“M’just so hot, babe. I feel like I’m fucking dying,” you groan, exaggeratedly flopping over the console and onto his shoulder. He doesn’t mind being stuck to you like this, wet skin and shiny lips nuzzling against his neck and he licks a drop of sweat from his cupid’s bow. Your gentle kisses sear onto his skin and he has to inhale deeply, almost eyeing the horizon and daring for it to darken slower.  Foot tapping on the brake a little too harshly, the car is a toe away from rolling into the one in front of you.

“You’re not going to die. Would be lame if you did.”

“But baby, it’s like I’m about to explode,” you whine louder, “feels like we’re sitting on the surface of the sun!” Even at his wits’ end, your boyfriend can’t find the gall to get mad at you. Especially when your tank top flies into his lap, right over the growing bulge in his shorts that’s keeping him hot and bothered. Luke almost goes nonverbal at the goosebumps that rise—and you haven’t even touched him yet. You’re fumbling with something, knocking around in your seat as he shakes his head and tries to focus on the road.

“Don’t.”

The car behind you honks slightly and he swallows dryly, running his hand through the wet mop of curls as he rolls forward. Fuck New Jersey drivers, he thinks, this guy shouldn’t have gotten a license—what!

“You should’ve just let me drive,” your voice disrupts his inner monologue, and he doesn’t have to look at you to know you’re grinning, “Would’ve gotten there faster than you, speedster.”

You know exactly what you’re doing.

“We’re gonna be late.” Hand flexing over the gear shift, his eyes dart across the road, quickly mapping out a path to the next exit. Your panties fall over his fist, a flash of black lace and damp with something other than just sweat.

“Aren’t you a son of Hermes? Make it work.”

Horns honking like a symphony, he weaves through traffic almost dangerously fast and not being able to do anything else but bite his lip when he hears you laugh through the chaos of it all.

—

“Sh–Shit! We’re gonna…” 

Luke’s the one laughing now as he slaps a hand over your throat, pistoning deeper into your warmth, and fuck, everything about you feels like fire. It’s the type of burn that licks at you from the inside out—but Luke tends to it with vigor, feeling you with every inch of his being. Your hands slap onto his wrist to hold him there, eyes rolling back into your head with wispy breaths of bliss. 

It’s dark now, and you’ve both somewhat safely stopped the car in a wooded area—Luke ripping off the rest of your clothes and his own before taking you belly-up in the backseat and your calves sitting pretty against his shoulders. 

“Be late? You weren’t worried about that earlier,” he teases.

The illegal fireworks and other illicit goods you’re trying to smuggle back to camp jostle in a box on the ground, digging painfully into his shins but he’s too busy stamping his hands into the shape of your breasts, rubbing you down with the mixture of both of your sweat that rolls with the momentum of your bodies.

“Fuck, Luke!”

Looking down at you with heat in his gaze, his thumb prods at your swollen lips, tapping lightly for you to open up. You do without a single complaint. He loves you, yes—even when you’re mouthy, but you look extra pretty when he gets to fuck you dumb and there’s no one around to bother you two. Grunting, you can feel and hear your skin slap against his when he leans forward to delve deeper if it’s even possible. All of you is red-hot from his passion, cock thrusting harshly so much that you can feel it slam against your insides.

For a moment you think he must hate you—dancing on the line of hot and hurt. 

Your eyes lock and you both grin.

“Let me take care of it. Gonna let me take care of you, right pretty girl?” He spits, a straight shot into your waiting mouth and an inhuman noise crawls up from your caged throat.

Leaning up to kiss him and grappling at his shoulders, he smiles into your pout, smeared lipgloss and runny mascara transferring onto his tanned skin. He loves it, knowing that you’re all over him and feeling branded by you even in the dark of the night.

A light flashes in your peripherals and you pull off him with a gasp.

“Is that a car?”

“We’re fine,” he grits, locking your legs around his waist and trying to focus—you’re so soft and soaking all over. His hands slip to your ass, clapping your cheek as he jerks his cock into you harder, making you whine. “They’re not… going this direction. Stop getting distracted.”

The heat builds from your core, pussy pulsing, and tears almost sizzling off your cheeks, so shiny and tempting that he licks a trail up to your ear. 

“I don’t want you to stop. Don’t… you dare, Luke. Fuck!”

Light filters through the darkness behind your eyelids as you grind yourself on his lap rapidly, chasing your high until the end. In a few hours from now, it’s back to business—but Luke has always been one to remind you of your mischievous side.

“Shit, trouble,” he sighs in bliss.

A blip of a siren goes off from outside, followed by quickly approaching footsteps towards your foggy windows.

“Shit,” you repeat back to him with wide eyes, untangling your legs and quickly trying to find your magic Zippo lighter through the mess of clothes at your feet.

—

Lessons were learned, and Connor and Travis were elected to go on supply runs from then on.

[solbaby7]

Nothing Even Matters

pairing: cassian x reader

warnings: swearing, probably typos, some angst, mentions of trauma, some fluff

summary: When the only thing you want during your recovery is the very person who put you there in the first place.

[ part one ]

—

“How’s it feel?”

“Fuck you,” You seethe through your teeth, words slurred from the wires holding your jaw shut—only for a few days, they said with remorse but all you could feel was such all-consuming rage. Such intense anger because you couldn’t move your body how you wanted; your arm was stiff in the tight bandaging holding it to your body while the dislocation and fractures healed.

Azriel glanced over at Rhysand who was offering Madja a sheepish smile, hands tucked in his pockets as he stood beside you. “Believe it or not, that was a lot nicer than some of the other words she’s been stringing together.”

“She shouldn’t be talking at all. Healing from a broken jaw is no easy feat—talking before the bone properly sets can lead to us needing to rebreak it all over again.” The heated glare you send her way could’ve killed if they were sharpened swords and Azriel has to step in front of you to ease the stormcloud you were casting above the room. Madja doesn’t seem to mind, urging the spymaster to step aside while she began her assessment. “Follow my finger,” Your eyes narrow with hate but you comply after a beat of time. “Good, no noticeable neurological deficits,” She scribbles something in a notepad, noting down the amount of pain meds you’d been receiving and an update of your vitals. “Your swelling seems to have gone down significantly—does it still hurt when I touch here?”

The High Lord cringes at the stream of profanities that slam at the edge of his mind; an act you’d been subconsciously doing since the moment the tonics for the pain had worn off the first time three days ago. You’d shoved your anguish out as far as it would go, so hard Rhysand had choked on a breath, hands clenching at his sides as he put forth more effort than normal to keep his mental shields up. “She says yes.”

Your hand taps once at Azriel’s arm and when he looks at you, you give him a jerky nod of your head. “She wants to know when she can go home?”

Madja lowers the notebook, voice annoyingly calm and full of understanding; not deterred by your attitude in the slightest. In fact, she seems to expect it, smiling softly before speaking, “Have you been eating?”

Your hand slams down twice on the table before you.

It’s jarring; aggression was never something you’d displayed often, if ever, but Azriel only takes a step closer, nearly sitting on the edge of your cot with an arm wrapped around the back of your pillow.

“I’ll assume that’s a yes.” Madja continues writing, bullet pointing your behavior and way you reel in your snark for the shadowsinger beside you. “Have you been able to get to the bathroom on your own?”

Two more slams against the table but these are much harsher than the first, a cup full of water splashing at the sides and Azriel lets out a sigh. “Not on her own but she’s really close. The dizziness just gets to her when she’s standing for too long.”

Rhysand spares a glance at the towering frame standing in the corner behind them absorbing every word like a child experiencing the world for the first time. Cassian had been unbearably quiet, avoiding Azriel at all costs but he was the first who’d noticed you beginning to stir awake. He’d barely left, always getting caught with a rag and warm water, dragging at your skin gentler than fingertips on flower petals. Rhys had to knock Cass out himself when the med staff came to take you away, advising that the wiring was imperative but the General couldn’t stop screaming about how you’d already been through enough; about how you deserved a full day of peace before putting you through even more pain.

“Any other symptoms besides the dizziness?”

You hesitate, heated gaze faltering for a beat of time before you’re slamming your hand down once and Cassian waits a full thirty seconds; golden eyes boring into Azriel’s back, urging him to mention the nausea, the splitting headaches that had you gripping at the first hand you came in contact with for any sort of comfort.

But, Azriel doesn’t say a thing.

“That’s good, what about—“

“Headaches,” Cassian’s voice is raspy with such little use and he’s more than grateful for the brace preventing you from moving around too much because he’s certain one of those sickeningly sharp glares were being specially crafted with his name on it. “She gets headaches and throws up sometimes because of one of the tonics—it’s orange.”

Madja, ever the professional hums in acknowledgment, scribbling down more notes and a furrow grows at her brow. “Could be an allergy or maybe the mixture is too much on your stomach without solid foods yet,” She not even talking to you, just muttering her thoughts aloud while the others tense; awaiting your reaction. They wait for the ball to drop; wait for the throwing of the first item in sight. It wouldn’t have been the first time and Az’s shadows had gotten surprisingly good at predicting it, darkness darting before the window before you could smash it to pieces since Madja insisted she’d dock any damages from your pay. “Thank you, General, that was quite helpful.”

A full minute passes and still, there’s no yelling; no frustrated grunts or shouting in your mind—just utter silence and you’re too busy settling further into your pillow to notice Rhys’ curious stare.

“If you can manage no talking for seventy-two hours then I will clear you to finish your recovery from home,” You’re nodding before she can finish, Azriel gently pushing you back when you try to sit up in your excitement. “I mean it—I’ll know if you aren’t taking the physical therapy seriously. At least an hour of walking a day ; slowly so you don’t aggravate your ribs and I’ll take off the shoulder wrap if you swear not to do any heavy lifting of any kind.” You throw her a pointed look, a hand waving around to motion at the three men that had been permanently stationed around you.

“We’ll take good care of her.”

Madja exhales a steady breath, hands resting at her sides and way she regards you is nearly motherly; relief settling into her features when she can confidently say you’ll make it. “Then, I suppose you’re free to go.”

—

“Come on she said at least an hour.”

Azriel is a sturdy pillar before you, arms crossed and shadows incessantly tug at the thick duvet you’d been grasping at like your life depended on it since he barged in ten minutes ago. You grunt in disapproval, settling deeper into the mattress and you shield your eyes from the bright light steadily pouring through—even though you remembered closing the curtains last night.

“You’ve already skipped breakfast and lunch; it’s nearly three in the afternoon. Get up.”

Your inability to speak seems to work in your favor because all you offer Az in return is a hand peeking from the covers to flip him off.

A pause and one eye pries open when you hear footsteps retreating. Five minutes pass, then five more before you relax back into the fluffy pillows, dragging the covers up to your chin and a content smile curves at the corner of your mouth for a fraction of a second before your entire body is drenched in freezing cold water.

You lurch from the bed like a creature rising from the dead, feet bare and legs on full display when you slowly stare up at the pleased shadowsinger, eyes wide and arms frozen in surprise as you dripped all over the floor like a wet dog. “Good. Since you’re up and showered, let’s go downstairs and get you something to eat.” Azriel’s looping an arm in your own and leading you out before you even have time to change, sloshing footsteps left in your wake and when you enter the sitting room Mor has to slap a hand over her mouth to hide the laughter.

“Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

It’s harmless teasing; friendly laughs and eyes lined with water when they mention the rats nest atop your head but Cassian’s boisterous laugh doesn’t join in on the fun. He takes one look at you and quietly leaves the room; he'd been doing that a lot since the accident—ever so present when you weren't consious and practically non-existent when you were.

You catch Feyre staring at the bruises on your neck, the thick bandage stuck in place on your temple, how stiff your posture was from the tight wrappings securing your ribs in place and she flushes when you offer her a tight-lipped smile, trying to appear more sturdy than you looked. "Sit, I'll get your food."

Eyes roll at Az's choice of words, easing over to the couch with a low grunt. Food was a sorry excuse for whatever the fuck you'd been sentenced to consume until the wires were removed. A thick porridge like substance with a distinct grit that lingered on your tongue no matter how much water you chased it with.

It was nice to be home though, to sleep in your own bed and being able to ease the tension with a hot bath and a stealthily stolen glass of wine—even if it was impossible to wash your hair or to change your clothes without assistance. Fresh air breezes through the windows, ruffling the curtains and the High Lord is quick to dry your clothes with a wave of his hand. With nothing more than a quick touch to his shoulder in thanks, the others watch you brace your weight against things to get to the hallway, turning left in the same direction Cass had gone earlier.

It’s not hard to find him, cooped up in his room with a glass of amber liquid in hand; eyes trained on the crackling fire. “What are you doing in here?” He’s up in a flash, wings pulled tight behind him and a broad shoulder urges your good arm around his neck, warm hands are careful when lifting you off your feet and carrying you over to the neatly made bed against the wall. Pillows are stacked behind your back to prop you up in a way that didn’t agitate your ribs and you give a sad smile when Cassian’s eyes linger on the bruises that were steadily healing up the length of your legs and he’s carefully covering them in blankets with a shaky breath.

Usually, he’d have sat next to you but now you’re unbearably aware of the distance he puts between you; hands clutched at his sides like he was physically restraining himself from reaching out to touch. “You eat yet?” A slow shake of your head and Cass lets out a little chuckle in understanding. “Not surprised, that shit’s gross. Az never was that good in the kitchen.”

Everything smells like him; male and musk, cedarwood and bourbon. It’s overwhelming in the best way and years of memories begin to flood your senses; countless late nights spent in here drinking and laughing about nothing. Lazy mornings with breakfast in bed and amused snorts over buttered toast and tea when the Illyrian boasted about his latest conquest or earned accomplishments but then would go sheepish when you’d genuinely told him you were proud of him—happy that he seemed happy.

Cassian shifts his weight from foot to foot, unable to meet your eye because you were gazing at him so lovingly; not an ounce of hate in sight and guilt bubbles in his belly like curdled milk. “Don’t go anywhere, I’ll make you something.”

A few minutes pass of you examining the room before you notice there’s a bottle of whiskey on the bedside table and your brows furrow in worry. You’re grabbing it without second thought, shoving the bottle under the bed frame and out of sight before you hear the thudding footsteps coming down the hall and through the doorway. A goblet of a glass is clutched in one hand with a metal straw hanging over the rim; he rambles off some of the fruits he used while he walks over, gently settling it in your hands. Fingers graze and in the blink of an eye he’s already taken three steps worth of space between you but the berry smoothie is a significant upgrade from Azriel’s porridge mixture—little wins. This was sweet but not too sweet, thick enough to quell the rumbling in your stomach and thin enough to push through the gaps in the wires with ease. It’s half gone quicker than you care to admit but Cass seems pleased, yet the small smile he wears is quickly wiped off when you motion for him to sit next to you.

“I can’t.”

Brows scrunch together in silent question, head tilting to the side.

His face crumples, features lined with stress and it’s then you notice just how broken he appears—sure, maybe he didn’t have the bandages and wrappings but the damage was still there. “Look at you, peach,” Tears well at the pet name, your head lowering as if it could possibly hide the ugly bruising on your neck; it was the only spot that seemed to be taking forever to get better, a kaleidoscope of purples and deep blues. “Look what I’ve done to you,” Breath catches and you ache to comfort him when he doesn’t even bother to hold his wings off the ground. “I’m so sorry.”

Cassian only moves closer when you set the cup down and make way to stand; it’s then he sits near you, urging you back down and you see the way his throat bobs with the thick swallow when your hand gently rests over his own. Words aren’t needed to express how much you didn’t blame him; not anymore—not after the nights he’d spent hunched over your bedside spewing out confessions of his feelings. The unconditional love that never stopping pouring over when it came to you and the shameful jealousy that had followed. Secrets he’d kept in fear that you didn’t return the same affections; terrified to ruin the carefully crafted friendship that took centuries to perfect. To become an extension of the other and adding his feelings seemed messy—too complicated and then all of this. You and the sounds of your cries for help permanently branded at the forefront of his mind for all eternity. Waiting in anticipation for Madja’s updates on your health, how you were fairing and if there was any lasting brain damage; a burden he was fully prepared to bare for you. Willing to sit by your side with his fingers kneeding through your hair to soothe away the headache he knew was coming in from the scrunch of your nose even after being pumped full of pain relievers.

It seems fitting that you can’t voice what you know; the pieces that you’d held onto while stuck in your mind. Body too numb to even pry your eyes open but the hope of hearing it while conscious was a strong enough anchor to have you clawing to the surface—back to Cass and those lazy mornings and tea with entirely too much honey.

He’s a mess when you pull him in closer, brushing your fingers through his hair the same way he’d done for you. You can feel the feather light kisses he presses to the exposed injuries, silent tears dripping on your skin, hushed whispers of his apologies, all the ways he’d planned to do in order make it up to you. All the things he should’ve and would’ve and could’ve done and you have to pry his face from the crease of your neck to make him look you in the eye.

There are no words but the intensity of your stare says plenty and he’s right back where he started; wanting things he shouldn’t and falling back into selfish habits. Leaning into the warmth of your mouth slotting over his own and every bruise and broken bone doesn’t even matter when he’s finally kissing you—soft and tender but all too quick and he’s pulling away before you can memorize the feel of him. “You’re perfect,” Cassian whispers, forehead pressed against your own, hands keeping you close. “I don’t deserve you for a second.”

But you only kiss him again because in that moment nothing else mattered.