#slide under locked doors as a rug or

[miodiodavinci]

BWAGHAGKAHAHKGHARLRRRHHGH sorry i forgot to mention he's a mimic who just so happened to choose "adventurer" as his chosen hiding shape whoops

hey!! it's Fafnir of the Boreal North!! he is a completely normal knight who just so happens to look eerily like a corpse i assure you nothing will happen if you come closer and stick your fingers through the bars of his enclosure w

[rafeandonlyrafe]

those three words

words: 1.2k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, descriptions of reader being short and curvy, like 3 uses of the word kid?, they say i love you for the first time <3, established relationship, protective!rafe, kinda drug dealer rafe but really barry just makes a ~scary~ appearance

“rafe-” your eyes widen as you take in the scary looking man standing in front of you, heavy footsteps making their way in your direction.

“it's alright, kid.” rafe moves effortlessly in front of you, blocking your entire body out as you grip onto the back of his shirt.

“who's that you're hiding?” the man asks. you peek around rafes tall frame to blink at the stranger.

“she's mine.” rafe simply grunts out, and the feeling of confusion and fear is replaced by pure flattery as your cheeks blush red.

“she's a cute little thing, huh?” he smirks at you, gold tooth catching the sun as you quickly duck back behind rafe.

“yeah, she's my cute little thing.” rafe turns to you, placing his hands on your shoulders and gently pushing you towards the sliding glass doors. “and she's going inside right now.” his tone is soft, but still commanding.

you glance once between rafe and the man before gulping and rushing inside up the stairs to rafes bedroom, locking yourself inside and even crawling under the covers like the warm material could keep you safe.

you wait patiently, silently as you listen, letting out a sigh of relief when the footsteps you hear making their way up the stairs are clearly rafes, not the stranger with the heavy gait.

“who was that?” you ask as you open the door, rafe pressing you back inside, easily flipping the lock behind his back to trap you back in his room.

“nothing for you to worry about, doll.” rafe smirks at you before his lip drops when you let out a frustrated huff. “come here.”

rafe moves to the bed, pulling you onto his lap, caging you against his body with his thickly muscled arms.

“shit like that is for me to deal with. you don't need to be stressing your pretty little head, okay?” rafe says slowly. you nod back even slower.

“what are you here for, huh?” rafe taps your nose, getting you to refocus on him, seeing your mind already starting to drift elsewhere. “tell me baby.”

“im here to look cute…” you glance down at your fingernails, painted a light shade of pink. “and make you happy…” your cheeks flush red at the next part. “and make you feel good.”

“exactly.” rafe nods. “so when barry comes around, you come in here and wait for me to get back, okay?”

you nod more enthusiastically this time, the worry and anxiety floating away. rafe is there for you, he'll always be there for you, to protect you. you just need to clear your mind and let him.

“so you gonna make me feel good now?” rafe ducks his head to bring it closer to your face. he towers over you, your tiny stature is part of what made rafe attracted to you. graced with beautiful mature curves but short legs and torso which made you pewny next to his massive height.

“course.” a smile stretches across your plump cheeks.

“get naked for me then.”

you slide off of rafes lap, feet padding softly against the rug he bought just because your bare feet got cold against the wooden floor.

you start with your tanktop, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth are you slowly lower it until you fling it away, cupping your hands around your bra, the light pink matching everything, just as rafe likes it. 

you reach behind your back to undo the bra next, pulling the straps down teasingly slow before letting the cups fall away to the floor.

“god.” rafe groans out, unashamed as he grips his cock through his pants. “i like the show, baby, but i need you right now.”

despite his size, rafe moves quickly and smoothly, grabbing your waist and pushing you towards the bed, flopping onto your stomach.

before you can even adjust, rafe is pulling you by your hips towards the edge so your feet are hips are at the side of the bed, legs hanging down.

rafe loves how easily he can manhandle you, make you his little fuck toy as his hands push your skirt up, revealing a tiny thong that is quickly ripped away.

rafe watches as you spread your legs while he undoes his jeans, your pussy already gleaming with wetness as you bare yourself for him.

“that's my girl.” rafe smirks, grasping his freed cock and running it through your folds, feeling the way it soaks his head before he taps it against your entrance, once, twice, and then a final third time before pushing forward, burying his cock inside of you with a groan.

“oh, fuck.” you squeal out, rafe not giving you even a moment to adjust. he wouldn't need to wait for his hand or a fleshlight, so he doesn't wait for you either, instantly setting a rapid pace, his cock squelching into your wetness with every thrust.

“god, so tight. so tight and-” rafe let's out a low moan. “and fucking tiny.”

rafe grips your hips, lifting your entire ass off the bed, your flowy skirt falling even more down your back as he holds you up with ease, smiling to himself as his muscles bulge, knowing this is undoubtedly what will be on his mind next time he works out.

rafe pulls your hips back with every thrust to meet his as your arms scramble to support yourself, but no need as you ultimately resign to your fate, bare cheast pushing against the bed as rafe fucks you, ass in the air.

“god, so good for me baby.” rafe groans out. you're not doing anything other than staying still for him, but you still glow at the praise, clenching your cunt around his cock every time he pulls out.

“jesus, you don't want me out do ya kid?” rafe chuckles, having to work to get his cock out just to slam back in.

“love your cock.” you manage to say. “‘ts perfect.”

“aww, baby.” rafe coos out. “it's your pussy that's perfect for me.”

rafe thrusts harder as if trying to prove his point. you feel his cock swell inside of you and know it's moments before your cunt gets flooded. you relax when the warm cum fills you as rafe moans, fingers squeezing your hips so tight you're sure to bruise as he holds you down on his cock until it's done pumping.

“fuck.” rafe groans, pulling out as you clench your pussy, trying to not let the cum escape, loving the feeling of being filled up with rafe.

“come on, turn over kid.” rafe taps your hip as you flip onto your back, giggling as rafe falls with a bounce onto the bed next to you, pulling you in for a kiss.

“see, kid. that was exactly what i needed.” you can already tell the shift in energy from rafe, the way he's more relaxed now, face not hard set with stress.

the words escape your lips before you can help it. “i love you.”

your eyes widen once you realize what you just admitted, causing rafe to laugh. you pull away, suddenly feeling awkward and exposed, only for rafe to tug you back close.

“relax, baby.” he says, running his thumb over your cheek. “i love you too.”

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjsmarijuana @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @rafeyslove @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @babygorewhore @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @vogueprincess @yourenogoodforme @auryyz @mayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl @ditzyzombiesblog @chiaraanatra @tobiaslut

[sunkissedrafe]

bffs w rafe and he’s obsessed w you. wakes you up by sneaking into your room and yall do stuff 🤭

Locked

summary: the request above!:)

word count: 3.3k

(SPOILERS) warnings: somnophilia(sleeping), dubcon, p in v, fingering, male masturbation, secretive photos, breaking and entering, unprotected sex. MDNI!

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

You really don’t know how it all happened the way it did.

The way Rafe took you under his wing all those years ago. The way he’s constantly glued to your side, going as far as attending parties full of pogues, sticking out like a sore thumb while he marches around, grabbing you another beer when you need it or shooing away the belligerent drunk men trying to hit on you.

Things like this aren’t the norm.

Boys like him just aren’t friends with girls like you. He’s used to a life of luxury; boats, tropical vacations, the most expensive clothes made of materials you can’t even pronounce.

You consider yourself lucky if your water isn’t shut off when you got home after a long day of sweating and panting in the heat.

But the world works in crazy ways, and Rafe Cameron is your best friend.

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

The two of you sit on the edge of your bed, controllers in hand as you peer up at the screen with wide eyes.

“No, no… Rafey!” You squeal as the screen flashes, letting your head drop down, your hair falling across your face with a huff.

He chuckles smugly. “What, kid?” He nudges you with his shoulder, a sly grin written across his face and amusement laced into his voice.

“You said you’d let me win this round.” You mumble, dropping the controller onto the plush rug below your feet.

“What the point in that?” He laughs as he pushes himself to stand. “Like… how would that even be any fun?” He moves in front of you and nudges your forehead with his fingers so that you look up. You trail your gaze up to his own, his blonde wispy hair brushing his brows. “Quit bein’ a baby.” He gives your jaw a light, playful tap.

You flutter your eyes at him before giving him a scowl, falling onto your back and staring at the ceiling as his footsteps audibly trail across your room.

You hear him fumbling with something near your window and turn your head to the side, raising your brows as he turns around holding your planter with a cactus you’ve nearly killed from incorrectly watering it.

“Look at this poor thing,” he chuckles, turning the planter around and examining the plant. “You’ll never have a green thumb.” He laughs and sits the plant down where he found it, patting his pockets as he walks away from his spot.

You sit up and watch as he settles near your bedroom door and grabs his tennis shoes, bending down to pull them over his feet.

“Leaving already?” You ask meekly, already dreading the feeling of his absence though he still stands in the room with you.

“Yeah, gotta go.” He lets out a long sigh as he stands back up to his full height and leans against the door frame. “Got some shit to work through with my dad tonight. I’ll see you soon though.” He walks over to where you sit, grabbing your hands gingerly to help you to your feet. “There’s talks of a party this weekend, yeah?”

“Mhm.” You nod, standing on your tiptoes and wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Consider me your plus one.” He mumbles into your hair. His strong arms wrap around your waist and hold you flush against his body, his woody aroma flooding your senses.

You can feel his warm palms through the thin fabric of your shirt. They slide around your body as he pulls away from the embrace, taking home on your hips with a light squeeze. You glance up and his blue eyes are already locked onto yours, a grin pulling at the dimples of his cheeks.

“Maybe… practice the game a little bit until then, hm?” He speaks lowly.

“Rafe Cameron!” You shout, slapping at his chest as he puts his hands up in defense, chuckling as he steps back.

“Let me know when to pick you up.” He gives you one final grin before shutting your door gently.

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

You didn’t mean to fall asleep, but you took Rafe’s advice to heart and stayed awake as long as your eyes would stay open- practicing that damn game.

You lay peacefully, breathing deep and smoothly atop your blankets with the controller still loosely in your right hand. Your headset is still somehow on your head, softly playing the background music from the loading screen as you hadn’t had a chance to shut it off before your eyes gave out.

You don’t even stir when Rafe slides your window open, being as careful as he can to avoid the glass planter on your windowsill as he creeps into the warmth of your room. He carefully slides the glass shut once more, bringing a shaky hand up and flipping the latch, locking the window that he had made sure was unlocked earlier unbeknownst to you.

I can’t be crazy, she definitely wants me too. Right?

He turns around with a breath held deep in his lungs, praying to any god he can that the floorboards won’t creak beneath his shoes and that his best friend wouldn’t be awake.

His gaze falls onto your sleeping body, soft and still, and he slowly lets out the breath he had been holding in. The light from the screen illuminates your skin, glowing with the different colored hues as it flashes. He takes discreet, soundless steps towards you as he allows his eyes to rake over your figure.

Your hair is beautifully messy, strewn around on the pillow that you lay back against. He pays close attention to your tiny fingers that lazily wrap around the handle of the controller, one arm draped above your head and the other laid out to the side. He peers at your stomach, watching it rise and fall as you breathe.

His eyes wander up. You’re clad in the same tank top you’d been in when he left, but the way your nipples strain against the thin fabric just begging to be touched leads him to the conclusion that you ditched the bra.

It’s like she wants me to look.

I’ll look. I won’t touch her. I’ll look and leave. And then we’ll never think or speak about this again.

He takes microscopic steps toward your bed, his heart pounding against his sternum. His knees graze the edge of the mattress as he closes in on you and he gasps lightly, backing up so he doesn’t cause the bed to dip.

His face turns red, veins protruding from his skin as he holds in every ounce of oxygen he can to lean down beside you, placing his ear next to the side of your headset. He smirks to himself when he hears the music in the speakers, standing back to his full height.

He shoves a hand into his back pocket, fishing around and digging for his phone. He pulls it out and opens his camera, holding it up for the best angle and capturing a perfect image of his clueless best friend asleep in bed.

She doesn’t know how perfect she is.

Something inside of him wants more, wants to touch every inch he can. But he can’t, he has a goal and a plan. Get in and look then get the fuck out.

What would a couple more pictures hurt?

It’s like he moves in slow motion, he can’t control it as he reaches out and grabs the bottom hem of your tank top. You’d think he was performing brain surgery as he inches it up, exposing more and more of the fleshy skin of your abdomen. He wants to brush his fingertips along your skin, to feel every part of you along the way, but he can’t rush this.

Get the picture and go.

He watches as your plump tits spill out from the fabric, jiggling into place and sitting atop your chest, fully bared to him. His breath hitches and he pulls his hand away, gulping as your lashes flutter ever so slightly. You stir for a moment but you stay asleep.

A wave of relief floods through his body and he lifts his phone again, shakily clicking the shutter button. He takes so many more photos than necessary, moving and catching all the angles of your perfect breasts.

It’s like he loses himself. His pulse surges in his ears, beating so loud he’s almost convinced you can hear it over the music. His body betrays his logical mind and before he knows it, his fingertips brush over your delicate skin. He lets out a groan, feeling his pants tighten against his crotch as he moves to touch the other nipple.

To his surprise, your eyes remain closed and the rhythm of your breathing stays steady.

He swipes his phone over to the video setting, hitting the record button as he palms the fat of your tits, letting his fingertips dig into the skin lightly. His veiny hand explores your chest as the camera picks up all the evidence. He allows his hand to slide down the valley of your breasts, slipping across to your ribcage and down to your hip before he stops dead in his tracks.

This is too much of a risk, you’re being fucking crazy.

He stops his recording and shoves his phone back away into his pocket, biting his lip as he scans your body one last time.

Your body reacts to the loss of heat quickly. Your brows furrow and your cherry tinted lips form into a pout. Your legs stretch and move as your busy subconsciously tries to find a more comfortable position. Your leg falls to the side and your head turns the opposite way.

Rafe is frozen solid the entire time, too scared to even blink. He stays that way for a couple minutes, feet locked into his spot and watching you closely for any signs of rousing from your slumber.

But to his surprise, you don’t. You stay blissfully unconscious, your tits still exposed to him.

He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it until it’s too late. His cock throbs in the palm of his hand as he grips the base, choking back groans as he begins to slowly pump his length.

This isn’t bad, right? It’s just jacking off. I’m a man and she’s got a nice rack. She would understand.

He bites his tongue and presses it into his cheek as he tightens his grip around his needy member. His tip is red and weeping, streams of precum oozing out and dripping down the rolling veins that decorate his shaft.

He slowly inches closer, dragging his feet across the floor as he speeds up his needy movements. The muscles in his forearm tense and ripple as he desperately pumps himself, waves of dopamine shooting throughout his bloodstream as he stands beside your sleeping body.

I’m fucking sick.

He knows it’s wrong, but he can’t help it. He reaches out and lets his hand run up your smooth calf, shuddering at the contrast of the smooth skin against the rough pads of his fingers. They trail up carelessly to the expanse of your thighs and he has to hold back the animalistic urge to squeeze your skin.

Come on Rafe, stop it. Stop here.

His internal battle proves itself to be irrelevant as he does in fact squeeze the skin, his other hand giving his pulsing cock the same amount of pressure.

His breath hitches in his throat and he feels like any composure he’s had is long gone.

He brings his hand up and pulls your shorts to the side, not even caring about the audible moan that falls from his lips when he takes in the sight of your wet pussy.

He bites his lip until he tastes the metallic tinge of blood, sliding his hand up and down his cock as his thumb brushes over your clit with featherlight pressure.

You begin to stir, your body jolted by the foreign feeling, but he doesn’t seem to care. He lets the pad of his thumb press down onto the tender bundle and slide down to your entrance, dipping into your sweet center. He pulls back and traces his index finger across your wet slit before pushing in.

“Sh..shit…” he speaks aloud, sitting onto the mattress.

The sudden shift causes you to snap your eyes open, your vision hazy as it adjusts to the light. Before you can even form a coherent thought you’re suddenly aware of the pressure inbetween your legs. You blink harshly, clearing your eyes of the remaining haze and look up to see two blue eyes staring back at you.

His mouth is moving but you can’t make out his words.

Sitting up abruptly, you scoot back and rip the headset off of yourself, tossing it haphazardly into the floor.

“Rafe?” You squeal in shock, your pulse pumping wildly through your veins.

“Shhh.. sweetheart. Please!” He nearly begs, scooting closer to you. “You’ll wake your whole family.”

You look down and notice his right fist gripping around his cock.

“Just relax, okay?” He whispers.

He hooks his finger into your gummy walls and you let out a strained gasp, looking down to see your best friend knuckle deep in your pussy.

“R-rafe… what a-” you choke on your words as he withdraws his finger and plunges back in.

“It’s okay… shhh.. feels good, doesn’t it?” He murmurs, moving his thumb up to rub circles onto your swollen clit.

Your fatigue ridden brain is having trouble keeping up as waves of confusion and pleasure spread throughout your body.

“It… I don- fuck. W-what are you doing here?” You whine, your hips instinctively bucking closer to his hand despite your best judgement.

“Just wanted to look at you.” He croaks as he resumes his jerking motions on himself. “Then I… I just couldn’t help myself.”

The desperation in his eyes shouldn’t turn you on. The way you woke up to your best friend touching your body shouldn’t turn you on.

But even still you find yourself rhythmically grinding against his hand, dropping every single question from your mind as his finger brushes against a sensitive knot in your core.

“Yeah, there you go.” He coos, scooting closer to you and releasing his grip on his erection to paw at your tits. “So fucking pretty. Wanted to put them in my mouth so bad.”

“So do it.” You say before you can even think, reaching up to rid yourself of the fabric that served no purpose anymore.

A smirk grows from ear to ear before he leans forward, cupping the area right below your breast and right above your ribcage to push your skin into his mouth. He doesn’t stop the curling movement of his finger, he adds another one into your now drenched pussy as he sucks and licks at your nipple. You can’t help but arch your back into him, using both of your shaking arms to keep yourself propped up. He hums and groans against your skin as he removes his fingers from your core and hooks a strong arm around you, ridding you of the struggle and pulling you into his lap.

“Let me fuck you.” He whispers against your neck as he leaves hot open mouthed kisses to the sensitive skin.

You do nothing but nod eagerly, lifting yourself off enough to pull your shorts off in a rushed motion, him yanking his jeans and boxers down in the process. He reaches behind his head to grip the neckline of his shirt and toss it to the side. He grips the base of his cock as you sit back down and slaps it against your core, making you shudder at the sting it leaves on your aching clit.

He holds himself steady as you line his head up with your entrance, slowly sinking down to take in his length. The stretch is blissfully painful, and you take your time to let yourself adjust to him. One of his hands settles on your hip and encourages you down while the other rests against your throat, not adding pressure but leaving a tingling burn where it sits. When you sit fully down his head falls back and his fingers dig into your skin, gripping around your hipbone.

“So… so fucking big.” You sigh, rolling your hips back and forth.

His ego visibly inflates and he nods slyly. “I know. And look at you taking every fucking inch.”

A strained whine digs its way from deep in your chest and echoes off the walls as you lift yourself up and sink back down. His thick cock pushes against your clenching walls and fills you up beyond what you’d ever thought was possible. You get your rhythm and start bouncing up and down, crying out each time his tip kisses your cervix.

“Gotta be quiet, baby doll. Your parents would never let me over again if they knew I was fucking their little innocent princess like this.” He whispers and runs his fingers over your bottom lip, eyes widening when you accept them and let him lay them flat across your tongue.

You hum around his digits and whimper when he bucks his hips up to meet your own, sending a shockwave through your core. He takes notices and does it over and over, a satisfied glint apparent in his hooded eyes.

Your walls contract and squeeze around his throbbing length as the tension in your stomach threatens to snap. You flash your doe eyes at him and swirl your tongue around his fingers as he pounds into you from below, every ragged breath that falls from his mouth fanning across your skin.

“You’re close.” He says matter of factly. “Give it to me.”

He moves the hand on your hip to the space where the two of you meet, rubbing fast circles on your swollen clit. You’re coming undone around him before you have time to utter a response, biting down on his knuckles and clawing at the skin of his chest. The pleasure tears through you like a wildfire, every synapse in your brain firing and focused on the orgasmic relief Rafe is giving you.

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth and moves both hands to your hips, lifting you up and down like a toy as he ruts into your pussy. “Gonna let me cum in you? Let me.” He grits his teeth as if he’s holding back. “Tell me to cum in you.”

“R-rafe, please.. cum in me. Don’t want you to pull out.”

With the dirty confirmation he craved, he releases, spilling hot white ropes of cum into you and painting every inch of your walls. You feel his warmth flood your core and you slump against his chest, rocking with every deep breath he heaves.

You sit like this for a while, sweaty and sticky and fucked out as he lazily runs his hands up and down your bare back. The beat of his heart against his chest is almost enough to put you back to sleep, but you whine when he lifts you off of his body and sits you back in your original position against your pillows. You sit in silence as he collects his clothes and redresses, smoothing his hair with his hands.

He slowly makes his way back to the bed and uses an arm to keep himself steady as he leans down and places a lingering kiss to your temple. He stands up without a word and walks to your window, undoing the latch and pushing it up. He turns around with a smirk and a deep chuckle before he crouches down.

“Gotta make sure to keep this thing locked.”

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

taglist: @stepbrorafe @bunnycvnts @hewwokitti3 @pinkribboncoco @rafesgiirl @beautifuldisaster88

[stargrltara]

Kinda Outa Luck II

pairing: jason todd x fem!reader

summary: based off of the song "Kinda Outa Luck by lana del rey. 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩. Reader is kinda inspired by catwoman in the batman, she works in a club, and on the low she's gothams most wanted female thief. She is gorgeous, and she uses it to her advantage.Oh, did i mention she has a thing for the Red Hood? And, honesty, he does too, though he is pretty shit at hiding it. PT 1 PT 2 PT 3 ?

warnings: 18+ MDNI, it’s quite long im sorry, mentions of clubs, tying up, begging, mentions of sexual natures and strippers, slapping, unprotected sex, p in v, teasing, some fluff and angst, enemies with benefits??

a/n: guys this is part 2!! wow this is longgggg long. it was originally meant to be all in 1 part but i couldn’t be arsed and thought it would b easier like this xoxo. and sorry for the wait i’m so unbothered bye

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“ before i get bad

i gotta get drunk

so get over here

pour me a cold one „

Sliding on your skimpy, silver dress, you began to contemplate which hairstyle you desired for tonight’s shift. The sequins reflected a soft hue against the moonlit sky and the rain trickled down the windows softly. Brushing through your locks, light specs of gold and white stardust lingered on your fingertips as remains from doing your makeup not too long ago.

As you arrived to the Iceburg Lounge at roughly 9PM, you immediately strutted past the countless amount of people. Aromas of cheap and expensive cologne covered your nostrils like a blanket while you shoved your way past and behind the bar, eager to make yourself a drink before getting started tonight.

Pouring a shot of tequila through the glass, taking an easy swig and tapping it back onto the cool slate; a content sigh escaped your lips.

After a few hours of working, cleaning tables and serving drinks, a man walks up to you. His attire classy, a black suit along with a silver tie. His hair slicked back, sophisticated. “ The Penguin wants you in his office. “ The man grumbled sternly. Nodding, you hesitatingly set the bottle of vodka down and walked towards the Penguins office.

Thoughts corrupted your mind into a clueless haze. Of course, you were his favourite worker, but why did he randomly want to see you at this time? Sheepishly, you knocked on the door before intertwining and fiddling with the nails of your thumbs, sighing under your breath and waiting for what felt like an enternity under the gates of Penguins Office doors.

Finally, a muscular sihlouette opened the door before you. Taking in the unwelcoming sight, your brows curved into a disconnected frown after you noticed the scarlett steel layered on the mans face; orbs painted in a bleached clad. You refrained from widening your eyes too much from the illusion displayed upon you, blinking rapidly as you believed your eyes discieved you; attempting to hide the sceptism through your aurburn soul.

Does he know who you are? And all of a sudden you felt as if you weren't the bravest seductress in Gotham, instead, a neusiating ember arose from the heart of your chest, catching fire to your limbs and your delicate spirit. Suffocated with undervalue and engulfed under the weight of the Red Hood, he moved out of the way for another man to stand infront of him.

" Ah— finally, youre here ! " Penguin grinned at you as you lingered around his office while he communicated with the Red Hood. " So.. I.. Uh— Anything you need, sir?" Your voice shuddered, a hint of reluctance in your voice in front of the powerful image. You couldn’t help but dally your gaze every few minutes onto the rugged frame beside him. “Pour me a drink, will ‘ya? I know you make the best, honey. “ The New York accented man spoke, a wink left his eye before he carried on his conversation with Red Hood; never looking back at you.

Complying to his orders, you made your finest cocktail, which happened to be his favourite before handing it to him. A small nod in validation he gave you before going back to his conversation. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t eavesdropping. 3 words stood out to you. “Guns.” “Illegal.” “Shipment.” Your brow raised each time familiar word like those itched your ears, and all you wanted to do was to interfere with Penguins Illegal Gun Shipment. You were eager to hear more of this, hence the reason you were spending longer than needed to clean and put away the glasses.

You were also taking longer than usual because you were attempting to catch longer glances at Red Hood. He’s massive; his toned abs trapped beneath his suit. The back of his shoulders massive, you could tell by the way he sometimes clenches it. And his thighs? They’re plump, but they also look solid, like you’ll be crushed between them if you ever try to suck—

You were getting ahead of yourself, your mind corrupted with arousing thoughts between you and Red Hood. What was it? The way he grabbed your mouth to cover the sound of your voice, and the raspiness of his filling the misty atmosphere? Maybe it was how he trapped you underneath his body against the cold bricks, and the contrasting temperatures between the breeze and his body warmth.

God the things you would do just to taste that man. Just to pin him down, put him at your mercy for once; get him on his knees and beg. Though, you also wanted to beg. Beg for his erotic touch, electrifying against your skin and sparks clinging to your skin.

Maybe you were staring and dreaming for too long, lost in your daze before reality hit.

It was happening tonight. And there was no way you were going to miss it. You could sell those guns, you could make so much money.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆˚｡⋆

“ is it wrong wrong

that i think it’s kinda fun

when i hit you in the back of the head with a gun? „

You were ready, at the sight. Hopping out of your truck and inching closer to it. There was a lot of shipment men, and a lot of guards at the gates of the scene. And then something else caught your gaze. Red Hood. It’s fine, you’ll be in and out, like no one was ever here. You’ll be sly, like a serpent. He won’t even notice you.

Swiftly making your way past everyone, through the shadows, which sounds oddly familiar, you fall upon the specific gun crates which twinkle your vision. As one of the guards back is turned, you open the crate and take out 2 highly advanced guns, and bolted, grappling to a roof. Sighing in relief, you turned around, just to be greeted by the Red Hood, but he was clearly occupied with.. something.. arguing with one of the guards before the guard eventually gets fed up and struts of. Red hood just scoffs at the action.

You acted quickly, afraid he would take you down and turn you in. Hitting him in the back of the head with the gun, earning a small grunt, and for him to fall unconscious beneath you. Fuck. You couldn’t deny the shot of ecstasy that ran through you, the feeling of sinning but with a spec of thrill.

Your apartment was a few blocks down. Perhaps, you could carry him drag him to your truck, and then up the stairs to your apartment? You know, to avoid him from finding you and beating your ass.

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“ my daddies in the trunk

of his brand new truck „

The drive back to your apartment was quiet, but your mind wasn’t. What if he woke up in the trunk? After dragging him into your apartment and avoiding the weird stares from your neighbours, you locked the doors and tied him to your chair with a whip-like rope. Though, the situation was quite ironic since it’s usually him capturing and interrogating criminals like this, you couldn’t help but smirk eagerly to see his helpless reaction.

As he awoke, he glanced around, still in a haze from the sudden attack. “ You…” He muttered, a little muffled from his helmet, which you kept on as you planned to do something soon. A giggle escaped your mouth as you watched him glare up, avoiding the embarrassing position; small grunts leaving his mask as he struggled against the rope.

Red Hood let out a low guttural growl as he watched you stand so proudly, proud to have captured someone so much stronger than you; the sound of pain reverberating through his body. You aimed a gun at the base of his helmet, a threat but you both knew you’d never pull the trigger. A flash of surprise crossed his face. Despite the situation, he chuckled through the pain, clearly entertained by your resistance.

"That.. was a dirty move, doll face." He grunted, before you shook your head. “Stop—“ You order him, authority radiating off of you as you slowly inch closer, the gun still aimed at his head, and you place the metal right onto his helmet. “i’m talking now.”

He raised his hands up as much as he could in surrender, amusement still clear on his face under his mask. The supremacy in your voice and your unwavering stance had caught him off guard, and the sight of you prowling towards him with a gun in hand was more attractive than he cared to admit.

"Alright, alright." He said calmly, a smirk still on his lips. "I'm not speaking. Satisfied?" Even the way he man-spreaded was hot; it took everything in you to not pounce over onto him and suck the soul right out of him. Your cheeks fluttered a soft pink at the thought. He even noticed the way you were peering down at his crotch, and his thighs. Honestly, you didn’t really have much of a plan. You weren’t sure what to do with this tank at your mercy in the middle of your living room.

“I—“ You stammered, thinking of what to say. He just raised a brow at you, you’ve done this before but not to anyone like him. You could never take him in a fight, you could never try and overpower him even if you tried.

“You’ve never done this before, have you?” His voice filled with snark and impatience. He had things to do, he was a busy man, and you were stalling him. “I said shut up.” You repeated sternly before preparing your finger on the trigger. You think of something quick, and in that time, your consciousness decides to untie him, the rope falling to the floor but he remained seated, glaring up at you waiting for your next command.

“Get.. Get on your knees. “ You spoke quick, reluctance and hesitation behind your vocals, and you licked your lips in anticipation. His smirk faltered briefly as you ordered him to get on his knees. The thought of actually submitting to you filled him with a mix of irritation and reluctant curiosity. There was something about you in this dominant state that he couldn't quite place, and it made him wonder what you were up to.

Slowly, he begrudgingly obliged, lowering himself to his knees in front of you, his eyes still fixed on your face, studying your movements and your shy remarks. He knew you weren’t an amateur in this region, but he you both knew how he could easily pick you up and throw you against the wall if he wanted. You wouldn’t even realise a swift movement that he would do, as he could easily tackle you.

Your heart was beating out of your chest with anticipation. “Now..” Your voice trailed off slyly. “Take that pretty helmet off ‘f me.” He gritted his teeth as you shoved the gun against his skull. The feeling of the cold metal against his helmet sent a jolt through him, adding to the mixture of anger and mild attraction he was feeling. He knew he should be fighting back, but something about your commanding attitude was making him hesitate.

“Absolutely not.” He huffed, even now it was obvious that he had some sort of authority. You just sighed in annoyance, he was supposed to be fearful right now, except he barely even took this situation seriously. “I’m not asking, Red.” You spat through gritted teeth, warning him. His eyes narrowed as you bit your lip, an action that made him feel a mix of annoyance, and something else he couldn't quite place. He could feel himself getting riled up and it was only making things more complicated. He could also sense your impatience and the determination in your voice, but he stood firm on his refusal. “—and i’m not listening.” Stubborn.

You scoffed. “Jesus— i’ll just do it myself.” You mummer little nothings as you were pissed off, before inching closer, forgetting that his hands are free just behind his back as you kneel down enough to be alighed with his mask and you search for the way to take it off. “You seriously can’t be that bad under there, honey.” a soft whisper — Red Hood couldn't help but let out a low rumble of annoyance as you approached him, attempting to remove his mask. Your ignorance to the fact that his hands were free behind his back only added to his irritation, and ignited the burn in his eyes as you bent in front of him, feeling around for a way to undo the mask, he couldn’t help but revel in your naivety.

Unfortunately, he saw this as a chance. And with a swift power move, he tackled you to the rough of the ground, a loud gasp laced with pain left the pale of your lips. He straddled your body, pinning you down with his weight. His hands grabbed your wrists and held them firmly down above your head. His eyes darkened in anger as he stared down at you, breathing heavily. “Pretty things like you never learn." He growled so close to your ear that his breath was fanning onto your fair skin, an almost animalistic roar through his helmet as he was full of rage, and a slight hint of lust.

Soft groans of agony escaped you as you struggled and squirmed beneath him, weighing you down and ruining your chance to be free. Your body rubbed against his as you grunted. He let out a dry scoff as he felt your struggle beneath him. You were feisty and strong, but he was stronger and had been in this exact position plenty of times before. He tightened his grip on your wrists, pinning them harder against the ground as he leaned down closer to your face. “—What's wrong, doll? ..Not used to being the one on the bottom?” He teased, his voice low and raspy, and a little disoriented from his helmet.

“—you wouldn’t be able to handle me on top.” You muttered between sharp inhales as his weight on you took some air out of your lungs. You voice having a snarky edge but also a hint of a cunning tease to it as you narrowed your hazel eyes at him, lashes fluttering. He chuckled again, this time it was different. Your snarky comment making him more amused than annoyed, and ironically creating heat to pool in his stomach. He liked your fire, your determination to keep fighting, even when he had you completely immobilized beneath him.

“Is that so? ” He purred, his face only inches from yours. Despite your situation, your words had only fueled his desire to put you in your place even more. You just hummed at his words as you could barely form words of your own out of your mouth; your chest rising and falling from each hitch. He shifted his weight above you, trying to hide the raging hard-on you were giving him, and he just gazed at your stunned face.

And in that moment, you both felt it — the volt of electricity that ran down your body and through your ultraviolet veins. — Both of your bodies warmth and laced with lust and arousal. You gave into the feeling of need and desire as you melted beneath his touch as he ran a glove-clad hand down your abdomen, the buzz seeping through your latex suit and causing the hairs on your arms and the back of your neck to rise. His hand stopped right at your thigh, edging you onto feeling an ache, the ember igniting in your chest causing gasps to leave your mouth as you accepted the way he leaned in, inhaling your scent.

You were so lost in the moment that you didn’t realise the way he picked you up and carried you to your bedroom before tossing you onto the bed, the mattress bouncing onto your back as you waited. He turned the lights off, so all that lingered was the soft dim of the billboards and the lighting that struck down as rain trickles onto the glass of your windows.

He must’ve stripped after he turned off the lights because you felt a heavy sink in the bed when he laid on top of you, and the clank of his helmet onto your carpet. You ran your hands down his toned chest. Of course, he felt heavenly, you drew your fingertips and traced the way of each perfect muscle, but just as you were done, he grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head with one hand. He tightened his grip and you winced slightly, though that shot of pain wasn’t from your wrist but from how eager you were to fuck him.

“..I ain’t gonna play nice.” He warned, his real, ragged voice soaking into the air; you took the opportunity of his bare face to interlock your fingers into his locks, earning a small grunt in approval from him. “I’m used to fighting dirty.” You breathed before you pulled him up by his hair, and latched your lips onto his. He tasted different than you expected, sweet and his lips soft, although the hot kiss was aggressive and passionate, eating at eachother’s mouths. He deepened it, sliding his tongue against yours and a light moan flowed from your mouth to inside his, coating his tongue in your hot, shuddering breaths.

You pulled away, filling air into your lungs but just before you could prepare, he leaned in, cupping your chin with his free hand before he wrapped his lips around yours again, this time your teeth colliding and as he pulled away slowly, a string of saliva connected between each of your lips.

After moments of heavy making out, he traced small patterns on your suit, feeling for the zipper before zipping it down. You lifted your stomach up as he sat in between your opened legs, right in between your core as he stripped you bare. You remained in your lace bra and panties and it was unfortunate that he couldn’t see such a sight and you can’t see his true features.

It felt like heaven was having a bubble bath in your stomach as he planted small, open mouth kisses around your neck, each leaving a trail of his saliva. He licked a long stripe from your neck to your ear, nibbling on your delicate skin. “..you don’t know how long i’ve been waiting to do this..” he muttered into your skin, gaining a soft moan in agreement, as you admit, you also wanted to do things to him.

His touch felt like it originated from Eden’s garden, his lips creeping down your stomach, sucking and licking at your flesh, knowing there’ll be marks by the morning; the vision sending a jolt down through your body. A sudden fire ignited in your veins and in your limbs, a shot of ecstasy. He could feel the way your body shook and jolted at each touch he laid upon your skin. It only fuelled him.

He reached at your panties, and he pulled it down slowly, slow enough that it made you grunt in impatience. “please..” a low whisper escaped from you, you didn’t even realise what you said, you were lost in the moment. “ patience, baby ” was all he spoke before he spread your thighs wider, his fingers gripping onto your flesh, marking his fingerprints and leaving a surprise for the morning. The scratching of your skin against your blankets filled the air along with the soft grumble of rain hitting against the glass.

A thick finger glided across your puffy folds and a hiss left your mouth in return. You were unethically wet; the slick noises painting the atmosphere. His now wet fingers slithered up your stomach, and through the bridge of your chest, coated in your arousal. He plunged them into your mouth and a “hmmgh..” left your lips.

You willingly allowed the intrusion, fluttering your eyes closed and sliding your tongue around the two thick digits. Cladding them in your saliva, you bobbed your head up and down on them. “ good girl.. yea— get ‘em nice ‘n wet ‘f me..” he trailed off, everything sounding a haze as you continued to suck on his fingers. He pulled them out and ran them up your folds again, before shoving them into your hole unexpectedly.

An erotic gasp echoed through your bedroom walls, and your aching hole squeezed around his fingers, trapping them as soft moans rumbled from the midst of your throat. He continued to plunge his fingers in and out of your pussy, the slick noises and your moans fuelling his admiration. “ love those noises you make..” he breathed into your ear before licking the burning flesh, his tongue tasting the electricity beneath your blood.

You felt yourself reaching your peak when he curled his fingers just right, a bolt of heat shooting out of your lungs. “ mm.. right there..! right there ! “ feeling so surreal, his thick digits fit inside of you like a puzzle; you moaned before he ripped his fingers out, not allowing you to have your release and your orgasm. All you wanted was to paint your bedsheets white, stain them with the mix of both of your juices, all you wanted was for him to have the hottest orgasm of your life. “ wha…?” you breathed when you felt him take his fingers out of you, you felt empty, and you found yourself craving more.

He brung himself up to your lips, so close you could feel his murky hair ticking your forehead, “ not yet, doll. not until you take my cock “ he grunted before he dragged you to the edge of the bed, earning a loud gasp and you to be very confused. He leaned down, and spat a string of saliva onto your folds; the wet sticking to your skin and charging your arousal.

You felt it, it was big. He filled you up so much, you could barely breathe after he aligned himself with your hole and rammed into it without mercy. Euphoric moans from you, and vicious growls and grunts from him arose from his chest, grumbling out of his throat. Tightening his grip on your waist and sliding it down to your thighs. Hearing a man like this was beautiful. His firm grip tightened, squeezing your skin as he felt himself get deeper and deeper, until he bottomed out. Your puffy hole taking him so nice as you felt him sink inside.

He pulled your legs over his shoulders to get a better angle as he thrusted in and out of you, the bulge from his fat cock inside of your stomach visible and his cock hitting places you never knew existed inside of you. Slamming and shooting arousal to form inside of your body.

Re-arranging your insides, he deepened and quickened his pace and your nails scratching at his shoulders and his back, leaving your mark. Your skin slapping against his pelvis and his right hand paved its way to your breast; fiddling with your bra to pull it down before he leaned in to suck and flick at your nipple. As he leaned down, his cock deepened inside of you and another sharp moan existed your throat. “ do ‘ya feel how deep I am inside ‘f you? “ he was so deep and abusing your tight core. he cooed into the skin of your breast, still lapping at the hardened bud and bringing his other hand up to wrap around your throat. You could only nod as you felt his grip around your neck tighten, the feeling was so euphoric. All you wanted was to be chocked by him, to have your airways cut off by this heaven-sent man.

“ f..fuck.. so— so close..” was all you could let out as the figure inside of you bullied himself around your guts. Between sharp breathes, you could hear that he was close. “—You gonna cum for me, baby? Do it. Cum on my cock, doll. “ His mushroom tip twitching inside of you and his teeth scraping onto your skin. That nickname has never sounded sexier as he emphasised how eager he is for you to release yourself on his shaft. He leaned up, to glare at you from below as he watched your face as you painted his cock white, spilling yourself on him soaking the sheets below as he lightly slapped your cheek before holding your chin to glance at him as you release your juices onto the girth of his cock. “ that’s it, baby..”

Your jaw slacked open as the filfiest moan escaped, this had to be your best orgasm as it hit you hard. Even leaving after shocks, your body was jolting, and your breaths have never felt heavier. He wasn’t far behind as he came right inside of you, water colouring your walls with his seed as he gazed at your face when thunder struck outside the windows, a light flare of your facial features on display. And you could quite make out his piercing emerald orbs, along with his coal hair.

A pornographic groan of pleasure exited his lips and his head fell onto your neck, laying lazy kisses and inhaling your raw scent. All you could do was trace your nails on his neck, drawing small circles and shapes as he lifted you up against the headboard, laying between your things and cherishing your chest and collarbones. The soft gesture was contrasting with how he acted a few seconds ago, ruining your hole, and also with his whole Red Hood persona. This was someone different.

Your fingers lingered on the back of his neck, and slowly slithered down to his broad shoulders and you feel where you left scratches and marks. A small giggle erupting from your throat. “ what’s so funny there, doll-face ? “ he sounded so worn out, and exhausted from how he let go all inside of you. “ oh..nothing, baby,” you chuckled as you played with his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp and you could hear the soft almost purr like noises he was making, a smirk creeping onto your lips. “ you’re pretty hot.” you admit, earning an eyebrow raise from him. “ ..that so?” he breathed, unimpressed before he was tackled around, now he was laying on the bed and you were straddling him, pinning his arms beside his head by interlocking your fingers.

Normally, he would be annoyed at such a lack of dominance he holds. But he’s in such vulnerable state, coming down from his high so he just parts his lips, unable to form the snarky words he desired. “—uh oh.. cat caught your tongue?” you don’t know what has gotten into you, you could tell he was completely lost in the situation, but you were feeling more energetic and eager for a round 2. You were grinding bare skin on skin against his, stroking your clit against his lower stomach, right above his pelvis, and you could feel his dick getting hard beneath you. Snaking a long patch of your mixed juices, you leaned in to plant a warm kiss on his chest, and you traced a heart against his fragile skin.

His hips jolted lightly before a low murmur arose from his chest. “..you know how this’ll end baby.” you hummed in response. “ i could easily flip you over right now, and take you again. and again. and again. until your neighbours recognise every slap of our skin, and memorise our moans by heart. “ he growled, though it was low, it was powerful, and it was hot. You felt a not so foreign heat pool inside your stomach again, and it only encouraged you to keep going, to keep rilling him up again.

“..but you won’t.” you ordered before licking a stripe up from his neck to his throat. ironic. and a rugged moan departed from him, which made you ache to make him feel real good. You ached to do everything you imagined in Penguins office, to him. You lowered yourself, kissing above his belly button and tracing his abs with the wet of your tongue. You nestled between his thighs, pecking sweetly at his happy trail, short gasps from him.

It was surprising to know how hot it was to have so much dominance over a man like Red Hood, especially in a state like this. You continued down until you felt the hard base of his shaft, bringing your hand up to it and slowly rubbing it, and taking your lips to press a tiny kiss on the tip. “..stop playin’ games ‘w me “ he groans lightly when he feels the tease of your lips against his fragile tip; feeling impatient as you took your time to pleasure him.

He glared down at you, and although the scene was dark, he could slightly make out the way you both stared at each other before he nodded in approval. You wanted to take his whole dick into your mouth, but before that, you wanted to tease him a little. So, you took the base of his cock and stroked slow strokes before spitting down onto it, saliva rolling down and seeping into his cock and landing on his balls.

Your ears weren’t deceiving you when you heard soft moans and whimpers come out of him and you scoffed at how ironic this was, and how vulnerable he could be when getting his dick sucked; the warmth of your breath sending chills down his skin. Your hand played with the soft of his balls, massaging them as his head flew back, moulding into the pillows under him and you finally took his dick down your throat. He placed his hands upon your head, making a makeshift ponytail out of your hair before slamming your head down onto his cock and guiding you. Unable to beneath, your noise colliding with his pelvis and rough chokes left your mouth.

His cock was girthy, thick and long. Though you couldn’t properly see it, you could feel the single vein that ran along the side. He pulled your head back, landing a slap to your cheek and a tight grip on your chin while he allowed you to breathe; both of your sharp breathes ricocheted through the air. The pouring rain outside added to the chaotic harmony and you leaned down to lick a stripe along the vein of his bulging cock, earning sighs in pleasure.

Without warning, he shoved your head back down onto his cock and you bobbed your head up and down,feeling the bulge in your throat while his was chest rising and falling with each thrust of your lips. Your lips wrapped around it, sucking the soul out of his spirit as an ember of arousal burned through your eyes. Picking up the pace, you could tell he was close by the way he jolted and shuddered, stammering nothings into the room. “..that’s it— keep— keep goin’..” “jus’ take it, all ‘f it. “ whilst you choked on his girth; spit collecting at the side of your mouth and dripping onto his thighs.

You used your hands to stroke what you couldn’t reach, and he let you up for air before slamming you down again, and again, and again, until eventually the wire in him snapped and a pathetic whimper left him, you glared up, allowing him to see the mess he made inside of your mouth and on your face. All of his juices milked onto you, and you took your fingers to wipe yourself and your mouth before licking them clean with your tongue.

“..what was that about being on top, honey ?” you teased, referring to your comment earlier, and how he couldn’t handle you being on top, clearly from his pathetic moans he was unleashing when you sucked the spirit right out of him. “—Shut.. up..” he grumbled, attempting to assert but it came out shaken, the opposite of what he wanted. You chuckled in response and found yourself laying on him, and he was engulfed in your scent.

Your sweaty skins sticking together, but you sort of felt at peace. Resting your face into his neck, both of your eyes fluttered shut, and you wrapped your arms around his body, his around your waist, pulling you closer, trapping you in the erotic heat.

You two were only like this for a few minutes before he got up, leaving you on the bed glaring up at the figure who was putting his clothes back on. “ You leavin’? “ you asked in a huff, but he didn’t respond. “ Red..?”

“..yea. I think— I should go. ” his voice had a hint of reluctance as you heard the sound of clothes being put on, and his helmet shoved onto his head. “okay..” you nodded, sounding a little on edge by his sudden urge to leave, knowing you two were enemies and leaving you sitting on the bed and feeling a need to push the duvet up to cover yourself. you knew he was a busy man, but in this moment, you wanted nothing more than to hold him tight in your arms, listening to the soothing patterns of his breaths as you two fell asleep together. “.. i didn’t.. see your face if that’s what you’re worried about.” you called out as you could see the figure disappear into the shadow, opening the door and standing in the doorframe.

Your lips parted as you heard the thuds of his boots to your front door, and the slam of it closing. Shit.

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Part 3 ?? ☺️

[sukunasweetheart]

the whole court and justice system stuff going on right now in jjk is giving me ideas for modern au where criminal!sukuna put on trial for some heinous deeds he's done... but upon a fated happenstance he gets to hire the most perfect and competent defence lawyer who manages to somehow get him out of the situation as a free and innocent man. and being the charismatic and so very thoughtful man that he is, he decides he wants to do something for you in return...

warnings; female reader, smut, oral fem!receiving, mentions of murder and killing, dubcon-ish, morally corrupted reader, mildly submissive sukuna, male masturbation, cum in panties

words: 2.3k

criminal!sukuna, who's showing you gratitude in the only way he knows how... somewhere in a secluded room with the door locked behind. he sinks to his knees and hikes up your skirt, slides your panties down...

criminal!sukuna, who's kneeling down while your back is against the wall, one of your legs propped up on his shoulder as he eats you out so good that you're shuddering and twitching with every flicker of his tongue against your clit...

criminal!sukuna, who is getting drunk on the taste of you on his tongue, disregarding the fact that his face is beginning to sweat from the heat between your legs, and his cock is so hard that it hurts right now.

criminal!sukuna, who pulls out orgasm after orgasm out of you, not minding your slick that dribbles down his chin from doing so.

(how far will you let him take this?)

sukuna hadn't really cared much, whether he were to be ruled as innocent or be judged as guilty and sent to prison. he really was just planning on going with the flow, whichever direction life threw him in-- he's not one to cry and throw a tantrum over spoiled milk... if he gets locked up, so be it, he'd either find a way to cunningly get back out or he'd probably rise to the top amongst the inmates inside.

so even when he was introduced to you, a famously proficient defence lawyer and the top in your field, he wasn't expecting much from you at all.

but upon his first meeting with you, you managed to pique his interest when you confessed that you didn't give a fuck whether he's actually a criminal or not. as long as he's paying good money, you're going to get him out with 100% innocence. and to do that, you'll need a bit of his cooperation and honesty. whatever information you ask for, he needs to provide. so you can either slip it under the rug, or use it to your advantage in court.

he already thinks you're pretty fuckin' sexy. your formal and classy lawyer fit, tight ass pencil skirt... he'd like to get under it. your snobby and overly professional attitude. hah. he'd like to rip that away from you and see what's underneath all of it.

but for now, he does as you advise of him.

there were many instances where masses of journalists with their obnoxious mics and flashing cameras surrounded sukuna while he was getting moved from place to place with cuffs on his hands. he remained expressionless, all while thinking of how nice it would feel to paint the concrete floors with the blood of all these people. he'd even spare one of them, so they could publish whatever rubbish story they wanted. let the whole world know what he is.

and amongst all those who were against him, there really was only you. he's not quite used to this feeling, of having someone at his defence. he's never really needed it until he eventually slipped up and a detective caught onto his trail. he spent a considerable amount of time with you one-on-one.

while he was detained for a time before the trial began, there were times you visited him because you needed some confirmation on some of the information you had, but you also wanted to give him some advice on how he should answer questions when he was being interrogated.

"well, aren't i lucky to have a visitor with such a pretty face? nothing but unsightly insects and the stench of men in this filthy place," sukuna crooned with mischief in his tone, sitting himself down in front of you as a thin transparent wall separated the two of you.

"endure it. you won't be here for long after all."

god, he'd never seen someone with more confidence than himself in a long while. he wondered how you'd look if you did end up losing the trial. what a humiliation that would be. but something inside him said that you were going to prevail. his gut feelings are usually never wrong.

he's still quite nonchalant about it all, but oh boy, when he's sat next to you in court and watches you defend him against the prosecutor in front of a crowd for the first time... it does something to him. your voice, confident and clearly audible, how you articulate your words... all for his sake? (not really. but you get what i mean.)

"i know being cocky is your whole theme... but it'd be helpful if you could refrain from smirking or looking unapologetic during the trial. to get the jury on our side." you'd told him.

and he's trying, he really is (kind of...), but the corners of his mouth keep rising every time you debunk a piece of evidence presented by the prosecutor with ease. their expressions are really amusing. it's obvious how frustrated they are getting.

then he also thinks about what you'd said to him after that.

"ah, but perhaps... the media will favour you a bit better. they're always biased towards handsome faces. and don't underestimate the public's influence on court rulings."

you'd called him handsome, in such a matter of fact way. not that it was a rare occurrence- but something about you openly admitting it with your rigid personality had him going in a way no one else could.

in a matter of weeks, the tables had turned completely, and the court ruled him as an innocent man.

triumphant, you gathered your documents neatly put them in one pile. he's declared free to go, and while the place slowly empties of people, you meet sukuna in a now empty hall.

"so, you've set me free. knowing that i really was the one who did it," he voices dangerously, with a smirk. "i'd have to say, it's foolish thing to do. what if i made you my next victim? criminals know no courtesy, after all."

"you paid me a hefty sum. i don't do this for courtesy, you should know this by now. if i die by the hands of someone i defended, then so be it. i'll gladly bear the consequences of my own actions."

part of him wants to test your words. but it'd be such a waste to have you dead. right now, he's aching for something else.

"bold statement. you're not even a bit afraid? my cuffs have been off for a while now." you don't flinch even as he reaches out and palms your cheek. his hand is warm.

"not at all. you've been the most unreadable criminal i've defended, but after speaking to you for a while, i believe i've gotten better at interpreting your expressions."

"you've been reading me like a book, hey? well, enlighten me. i'm interested in hearing your thoughts."

"i may know what you want, but i don't plan on giving it to you. that's one line i don't cross with my clients."

"...oh yeah? well, good thing i'll be the one giving instead. how about we find an empty room first?"

"i don't need-"

"or should we do it here? do you like being an exhibitionist?"

you purse your lips together and give him a stern look, arms crossed.

"c'mon sweetheart. keep staring at me like that, and i'll get hard."

"enough. i have another client waiting."

"i'm sure you do. so i'll make it quick. you deserve a little something after all that hard work."

in the end, he successfully drags you off to a secluded room, somewhere in the building.

which finally brings you to present time...

sukuna's knees are probably going to be bruised later on. but at the moment, he doesn't feel a thing. all he can feel is arousal when he hears your whines and moans that seem so unlike you. gripping at his head, full body twitching as he sucks around your puffy and swollen clit, every huffing breath he takes in having the scent of you drenched in it.

you reach your third orgasm while standing in his manner, and he groans deeply as he feels it, your cunt pulsing against his lips.

you're clasping a hand over your mouth, but your muffled noises are still audible. deep down, you're starting to admit that perhaps you needed this, after all. sukuna was undeniably attractive, and you'd been constantly reminding yourself that he was but a murderer with blood on his hands... all for your efforts to come crashing down now.

it feels too good. he's getting you hot and bothered in a way no one else does. his hands palm and grope your asscheeks, touching whatever he can. whatever you'll let him.

once your clit begins to get too sensitive that it hurts, you have to push him away. and when he comes out from under your skirt, you take quite the liking to the state of his disheveled hair, flushed cheeks, your slick shining on his chin, and his glassy eyes. your leg comes off his shoulder, and the two of you are panting for a full minute before saying anything.

"fuck... i'll be honest, it was better than i thought it would be," you tell him, chest still rising up and down from the sexual high.

"bet it was. it's the least i could do after you were so good to me..." sukuna responds teasingly with a hoarse voice, looking up at you with his knees still against the floor, grinning.

you stare back, until your eyes wander down to the outline of his dick in his pants, clearly strained by the fabric.

"and what about you?" you ask with plenty a playfulness in your tone, smiling so gracefully. his cock visibly throbs when you mention it. you nudge it, gently dragging the tip of your toe up it's shape, still wearing your heels. sukuna doesn't hate it. in fact, he has to swallow up a moan coming from the back of his throat.

"feeling gracious enough to help relieve me?" he says with a cloudy haze in his eyes, grabbing your ankle with one of his calloused hands.

"hmm...not really. but i'm willing to watch you do it yourself."

"how perverted. to think you were so opposed to this, minutes before-"

you press down harder against his erection using the sole of your heel, and he groans, unable to stop himself this time.

"is that a no?"

"...if you'll let me finish in your panties, i will," he relents.

you give it some thought. and then you agree to it.

sukuna stands, and he stands close, towering over you with his height. he wastes no time in unbuckling himself.

revealing his thick cock, you marvel at its size and the way its drooling precum, veins running along its side and twitching against his palm. he begins to stroke himself. other hand against the wall behind you, he starts jacking off like he would if no one were around. like you're not there right in front of him.

you watch with a small smile, staring at his hand that goes up and down his erection at a fast pace. staring down at his leaking tip. listening to his small grunts and the wet sound of him fucking his fist.

then your gaze begins to wander. your eyes trail up and up, reaching his face, where you realise that he's looking directly at you. lust in his irises. your reflection shining in both those pupils of his.

sukuna hasn't touched himself in a while. he's never really needed to. but with a few words from you, he willingly obliged. now when you meet his eyes like that, he can't resist leaning down for a messy kiss with you, all while mumbling "mm..fuck-" against your lips.

he angles his hips closer to your pussy, making it so that every stroke makes his tip catch onto your clitoris. his hand speeds up. you hitch in a breath at the tension, at how close he is, as he's basically leaning into you now.

"i'm close... open up," he mutters into your ear, breaking the kiss.

your panties are hanging between your thighs, and you slip them up a little more up for him. his breathing starts to get faster.

"shit... 'm cumming-"

he aims it to the fabric of your underwear, and releases. sukuna groans deeply, twisting his hand towards the head of his bulbous tip as he spurts rope after rope of his seed on, hips jerking and dick throbbing with every hot string that comes out.

your hole clenches around nothing at the sight. there's so much. you're slightly starting to regret agreeing to this. it might seep out if he continues letting out this much.

thankfully, he comes to a stop soon. he squeezes himself for one last drop, and then his cock starts softening in his hand.

"all done?" you ask.

"every last drop." he watches you with a smirk as you pull it up. the warmth of it hits your cunt and you hide the way it feels arousing. he also tucks himself back in.

"now i'm running late," you say with a frown, taking a quick look at your wristwatch.

"so you actually had someone waiting?" he questions, raising an eyebrow.

"of course. why would i lie about that?"

the thought of you seeing another client with his sticky mess between your legs makes him a little hard again. you start heading off to the door, but he blocks your way.

"we'll be seeing each other again, won't we?"

"i don't know. will we?"

"of course we will," he offers slyly. "i'll have you choking on my dick, next time."

he's very adamant about it, and it doesn't seem like he'll let you through unless you give some sort of agreement to him.

"we'll see about that," you tell him. and then you follow it up with a small kiss to his cheek, which stuns him slightly. you make your way out the door and he stands as he listens to your footsteps that get further and further away.

...he knew that jerking off once would be far from enough for him. he regrets not asking for your panties instead.

Masterlist

[naffeclipse]

Sparks and Oil

Mechanic!Reader x Mob Boss!Eclipse

Commission Info

I have the pleasure of writing @zayaayame's Crimes and Justice AU with a mob boss Eclipse visiting his favorite mechanic! Their dynamics are so fun together and of course, the boy is utterly endeared with the one fixing him up.

Content Warning for suggestive themes and robotic injury.

———

The animatronic, silver and gleaming, slips out the door with a cheerful wave of their newly restored digits on their left hand. You return the gesture with a gentle smile. When the door falls shut after their departure, you breathe a sigh. Exhaustion tugs at your seams; a day’s work worth. You step towards the open sign and flip it to close. Everyone has been taken care of. In terms of emergencies, your door is always open, of course, but as far as appointments go, you’re done.

Before your hand can find the deadbolt and slide it into place to lock up for the night, a shadow falls over you from outside. The lampposts lining the street already burn brightly, and the dusk is dying deeper into a fresh night. Slowly lifting your head, murmuring pleas to not be who you think it is, you find just the one you weren’t looking for.

Eclipse grins. A sharpness encases his brilliant red and black silicon and his sun rays jut out like red-hot pokers. Dressed sharply in a pink dress shirt, red vest, and black slacks, he reaches down with a hand from his lower set of arms to push the door open and step inside.

“Hello, spitfire,” his optics, burning orange, like the sun when it sets on a smoggy evening, go up and down your form. “Aren’t you looking like a dish tonight. And your prosthetics have never had more shine.”

“Eclipse.” You roll your eyes at his romantic attempts to appease you. You cross your arms, one of sleek metal and one of your natural, muscular flesh folding in your agitation.

“Aren’t you happy to see me?” he asks and saunters a little closer. His lower arms are spread wide in greeting but you are not the least bit impressed. His grin is rough and rugged. His upper set of arms hang steady by his side. 

You tilt your head in the slightest. His pink sleeves are strangely rolled down, covering the intimidating factor of his thick limbs, but you spy a spot of grease on the corner of his left shoulder. Wires poke at the fabric from underneath.

It is bad enough to have a mob boss darkening your door. It’s worse when he needs your service.

“What happened? Wait, no.” You turn around, stepping one prosthetic forward before swinging your natural one after it in a swift stride. “I don’t want to know.”

“Not even a little?” He follows after you, a towering animatronic with the strength to break whatever he’d like with his four arms—three arms, currently. “You don’t want to know how the other man fared?”

You already guess that he’s six feet under and the less you know of illegal goings-on while managing your mechanic shops, the better. 

Ushering into the back room where your private workshop resides, you point to a low table and move in muscle memory, gathering tools and acquiring the necessary components to fix an injured shoulder joint. Afton Robotics services all animatronic parts and pieces, but they are not fun to get on hand. Eclipse is at least considerate enough to make monthly donations to your mechanic shops for all the scouring you do for him.

“Take a seat,” you command instead. “Don’t you have your own mechanics?”

Eclipse purrs a low sound as he settles on the edge of the metal table. He is too tall and imposing even when you stand before him, preparing your tray of tools for the procedure.

“Of course, but they don’t have the same touch as you, spitfire.”

You whip a glare at him before resuming arranging the parts you will need.

“Watch your tongue—and roll up your sleeve.” You stop at his side, ready.

“If you insist,” he rolls deeply in his voice box. Immediately, you stand on edge.

Now what?

To your chagrin, the mob boss’s lower set of hands gladly gets to work unbuttoning his vest. A flame flickers within you. Eclipse grins as he takes his agonizing time to uncover his torso, his pink shirt husked in favor of giving you a free look at his rugged design and bright red colors of warning. Your eyes roam unwittingly before his grin turns sharp like a shark watching you bleed.

Your natural hand reaches over you to twist and adjust your prosthetic arm as you battle the maddening urge to toss him back onto the street. When he finishes setting aside his shirt and vest, you immediately zero in on the torn arm dangling off of his shoulder by a few, straining wires.

“Do you like what you see?” he asks, resting his hands on the legs of his black slacks. His optics flash. “I can show you more.”

“Are you injured anywhere else?” you reply clinically. 

Eclipse clicks his metaphorical tongue in disappointment.

You lift a hand to the damaged framework and the connector. It’s not as horrible as you feared, but it is a nasty wound. Oil drips freely now that you’ve exposed the sight of damage and wires spark with short bursts of burning light.

“Will you shut off power to your top left shoulder?” 

Eclipse tilts his head and the sparks stop spitting out from exposed copper wires. Now there’s no need to fear frying yourself on an open current. You gladly step closer and begin to salvage what pieces you can and mentally account for what you will need to replace as you remove bullet-chewed pieces.

“You know,” Eclipse rumbles amid your concentration, “I wouldn’t have to find you at the oddest hours if you were closer.”

His lower right hand snakes around your waist. You ignore how his large palm ghosts just over the clothes of your jumpsuit before lightly caressing your spinal implant. The metal vertebrae whirl in a myriad of flashing, wild colors. He hums a low sound.

Lowering his head to your shoulder, a kiss presses into your shoulder, touching the sweat and grime you’ve accumulated throughout the day. You almost jump but force yourself to focus on splicing two wires to repair the strain they endured. Then, once you finish, for good measure, you snap a glare in Eclipse’s direction.

“If you kiss me while I’m working on you, I might make a mistake, and you will pay for it.”

“Understood, spitfire.” He chuckles but his hands still roam over your body. 

Even as you stand and bend over his wound, his fingers trail over your muscled arms and touch the cords of strength along your back, trailing down your hips to your strong thighs. Scars bump underneath his smooth, metallic touch. He even stoops low to study a few marred knits of flesh along your arm where your prosthesis joins with your body. 

If you weren’t so focused on replacing the connector of his shoulder, you might have caught a glint of guilt in his optics. He instead rubs your arm softly.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he breathes an electric breath. “You should move closer to me, so I can keep you safe. It’s so dangerous out here.”

You scoff and don’t bother to lift your eyes from the task at hand. His model is familiar if not threatening. He was built to be a weapon and a weapon he has made himself.

“Oh, you wound me, spitfire,” he croons dramatically.

“Do I,” you give dryly. “I doubt I could wound you as much as whatever did this to you.”

The precision of your tools fit between metal slats and wires, restoring what was once blasted apart by a gunshot. No, you don’t think you could hurt him like this.

One of his hands falls over his chassis and he swoons while keeping still enough for you to work.

“So cruel, so heartless. And I only offer all of my parts to you,” he sighs. If only you could have taken his voice module and switched it off. 

“You’ll live,” you promise. Against your will, a tiny small slips over your lips when Eclipse straightens, his optics slipping over you in a low burn. “There. You’re all patched up.”

You turn away to reach for a rag to wipe your greasy fingers on but the hand you just restored takes you by the arm. Falling still, you feel one of his other hands move into the pocket of your jumpsuit, depositing what feels to be a thick wad of cash. Another crook of a finger captures your chin. Slowly, you rise to meet his eyes, caught in the bright orange light of his optics.

“Thank you, spitfire.”

Your lips part to ask how it feels if the current flows well and if his movement is hindered at all, but he silences you with a kiss. His metallic mouth presses over yours. He’s warm and strong but mostly, gentle. You make a soft sound, surprised and furious and flustered by his audacity. He pulls slowly away from you as if savoring every last drop.

“I’ll see you again soon.” His grin is harsh and handsome, and you boil. He can’t do that to you just because he can. But he leaves you speechless, left with oil-slick fingers and a buffering mind as he slips to the front of the shop and out the door, into the night.

You burn where you stand. Your hand moves to your lips and traces where his kiss still simmers in your skin, and you groan. 

If he doesn’t get killed, you’ll kill him one of these days.

[avocado-writing]

For the prompt list, "waiting until they safely go in the front door before leaving" with Logan? 💙

he’s a gentleman through and through, though he’ll deny it to his dying breath.

a light touch on your elbow to carefully guide you in front of him when single file is needed on the sidewalk. holding open your door on his pickup and offering his hand as you jump out. and, of course, the way he drapes his jacket around your shoulders the moment he sees gooseflesh rise on your chilly arms.

“you’re doing that thing again,” you’ll say with a smile.

“what thing?”

“that thing where you’re kind and courteous and damn adorable.”

he’ll harrumph and go a little red, then slip his hand into yours to distract you.

tonight he walks you to your door after a date. a nice one, dinner and a movie where you shared popcorn and brushed fingers over kernels, and he gives you a kiss under the glow of a streetlamp as if it shines just for him to see the glow in your pretty eyes.

“bye, logan,” you sigh dreamily.

“bye, sweetheart.”

another kiss. never too risqué, suitable for public; him shielding your body from the street with his bulk. a tender touch on your waist, lips letting you lead.

it’s torture to pull away. he watches you walk up the stairs to your building door, listens for the slide of the key in the lock. he won’t go until you’re safely inside and he’s done his job as guard dog.

you pause as you turn the handle.

“hey, lo?”

“hmm?”

“you wanna come inside for a cup of coffee?”

you both know there will be no coffee involved if he walks into that apartment tonight. in fact you rather hope you won’t get further than the couch until he has no choice but to throw you on the nearest soft furnishing and have his wicked way with you. a devilish smile crosses his rugged face and fuck does he have you wrapped around his little finger.

“I’d love to,” he says, because it would be impolite for a gentleman to turn you down.

[vinylmango]

Flower Delivery (pt.2)

crazy ex!Nicholas Alexander Chavez x black!reader

Warnings: obsessive behaviors, breaking and entering, gaslighting,

Word count: 1.3k

Note: Sorry about the delay, work has been kinda crazy recently. Anyways, some people were asking for a part two so here it is! Hope you like it!

part one

part three

masterlist

“Alright, that’s a wrap for today everyone!” The director shouted as you and your co-stars left the sound stage and headed for your respective trailers. You shut the trailer door behind you, exhaling when you heard the click of the lock. 

Spinning around, a smile grew on your face when there wasn’t anyone or anything waiting for you this time. No more flowers, just the vaseful that remained on the side table, the tiny folded envelope left next to it, your name scrawled in Nicholas’ messy handwriting. 

Huffing you grabbed the vase and card, throwing the card in the trash and walking over to the small stainless steel sink to dump the water from the vase. You hesitated, they were such pretty flowers, your favorite in fact. You shook the thoughts from your head as you dumped the water, watching it disappear down the tiny drain. You threw the flowers in the trash, pushing down on the trash can lid as it didn’t fully close due to the length of the flower stems. The lid finally shut with a little extra force as you set the now empty vase on the table. 

A content sigh left your lips as you relaxed into the plush of the sofa, taking a moment before you decided to return to your apartment. Your phone ringing disrupted the quiet you had been reveling in, a stark contrast from the loud and active set that you had been on today. “Hello?”

“Hi Honey! How was filming today?” It was your mother, checking in on you for the day. Since you had moved away to Los Angeles from your hometown, hundreds of miles away, your mom or dad had called you every day, missing having you close.

“It was good. We wrapped for the day about 20 minutes ago. I’m about to head back to my place in a few minutes.” You explained, glancing at the time for a moment. 

“How’s Nick? He’s a good guy for you, (Y/n/n).” Your mom asked, catching you off guard. You blinked a couple of times, making sure you had heard her correctly.

“Nick? When did Nick call you?” You asked, grabbing your bag and stepping out of the trailer as your eyebrows furrowed. 

“Oh I just spoke to him earlier today. He called to wish your father a happy birthday.” She explained. “Speaking of, did you call your father yet?”

“Uh, no. Not yet. It’s been a hectic day.” Your brain was still stuck on him calling your family. “Uh, Mom, I’ve gotta go. Something just came up. I’ll call you tomorrow.” You said quickly, not waiting for her to respond before you hung up. You got out of your parked car, locking it before you walked up the driveway, going through your settings at the same time, trying to find the blocked contacts list to make sure he was still on it. Sliding your phone back into your pocket as you went up the front stairs and stood at your door. You placed the key in the lock, opening the door and looking around outside before closing it and locking it behind you, placing the latch lock on as well. “What the hell is wrong with him?” You mumbled under your breath thinking about how Nicholas called your parents again. 

Turning the lights on as the sun now hung low in the sky, your cozy living room was bathed in a soft yellow glow. You hummed to yourself as you placed your bag on one of the chairs at the kitchen table, grabbing the watering can and walking over to the kitchen sink to fill it so you could water all the plants that were scattered around the living room and perched on the windowsills. “How’d filming go?” You dropped the watering can onto the large area rug, your eyes wide and mouth agape. 

“What the hell!” You screamed, your vision blurry with unshed tears. You weren’t even sure why you felt the urge to cry, chalking it up to a fear response as you blinked the tears away and picked up the watering can that was now empty since its contents were soaking into the rug as you stood there. You threw the watering can at your ex boyfriend, rolling your eyes when he caught it, though the most that it would’ve done was bounce off of him. 

“A bit dramatic, huh?” Nicholas chuckled as he set the empty watering can on your coffee table. “I like what you’ve done with the place.” He gestures around to the plants and slightly different layout from when he had last been there over a year before. 

“Dramatic?” You questioned. “Dramatic.” A humorless laugh escaped you as you narrowed your eyes at him. “How did you get in here? This is breaking and entering.” 

He dangled the key off of his finger. “Oh I just told Mr. Daniels that I lost my key at the airport and he gave me a spare.”

You gritted your teeth. This was the second time you had talked to your landlord, Mr. Daniels, about either changing the locks or something related to keys. “Get out.” You told him, pointing towards the door.

“Come on (Y/n/n), just hear me out.” His dark brown eyes bored into yours, and you weren’t sure why they were so disarming, why you were even considering listening to him right now. 

“I’m calling the cops, Nick.” You told him as you shook your head. “You can’t keep doing stuff like this. Just leave me alone! We’re done! We’ve been done for a year! Let me be.” 

“It was a mistake to let you go, (Y/n).” He shook his head this time, the cocky look on his face replaced by something genuine and sad. 

“You made your choice. We both did.” You interjected. “We aren’t little kids anymore, we’re adults. Start acting like one and accept that.”

“You know the cops won’t do anything.”

“Maybe, but I’m going to get a restraining order if you don’t stop. You need to stop and...and don’t call my parents! What the hell is wrong with you?”

“You never told them that we broke up, did you?” You watched as a smirk began to pull at his lips.

“What?" Your voice faltered. "Don’t flatter yourself.” You scoffed at the tone of his voice. “I have told them…and if you don’t leave now, I’ll tell them everything else and we’ll see what they do.”

Nicholas rolled his eyes. “Well, I wouldn’t be here if you hadn't blocked me.” 

“Ok, well...Goodbye.” You said, pushing him towards the door. You gave him one final push, though you were pretty sure he definitely could’ve put up more of a fight if he had wanted to. 

“I’m sure I’ll see you around, huh?”

“Goodbye Nicholas.” You repeated, not answering his question as you closed the door in his face, locking the latch back once more. Sure, you hadn’t answered his question, but you both knew the answer anyway. 

It was unavoidable, Hollywood was way too small to avoid him forever whether that meant seeing him at awards shows, working together on the same project, or just seeing him around, you knew he would never actually leave, and for now he seemed content with that knowledge and you were content with the conclusion of the night.

The living room returned to silence as you sat down on the sofa. You pushed your hair from out of your face, twisting a piece around your finger before letting it go. 

For now, things were manageable. Maybe you would regret it later, but you had convinced yourself, however naive your thought process, that you would deal with him later. He wasn’t a real threat, he was just annoying.

Future you could handle it.

Let me know if you want to be on a permanent tag list.

[the-marshals-wife]

Refuge (Sierra Six x Reader)

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ 𝐑𝐘𝐀𝐍 𝐆𝐎𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ⋅☆⋅ 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ⋅☆⋅ 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

A/N: It's official: I'm obsessed with The Gray Man. I've watched it 3 times so far in under 2 months, and I really wanted to write something sweet for my current favorite Goose character.

Description: Sierra Six/Courtland Gentry x Fem!Reader, established (secret) relationship; flirty, steamy fluff + angst if you squint | Warnings: suggestive themes, kissing, alcohol | Setting: post-movie | Word count: 1,746

Gif credit: user magnusedom

Imagine Six returning to you, his best kept secret, and asking you to come away with him

There was only one thing in the world that could make you open the front door of your apartment after midnight. The instant you recognize the familiar, distinct sequence of knocking, you shoot upright from your slumber and scramble off of the sofa, the book on your chest flying across the floor from where you had dozed off. Having almost tripped on the rug, you release the dead bolt and frantically fumble with the chain lock. Heart pounding, you slide it loose and jerk open the door.

Waiting on the other side like an apparition was a smiling face you weren't sure you'd ever lay eyes on again.

"Sorry for the late hour, ma'am. Could I trouble you for a cup of sugar?"

"Court!"

You couldn't help it. His name, the name only you could use, escapes your lips like a cry.

"May I come in?" he gestures.

You grab his arm and usher him inside.

"Where have you been?" you asked in a hushed voice, looking over him.

"Here, there, everywhere," he answers, leaning back against the closed door. "Spent a little time in nowhere too."

"I've been so worried about you! I haven't heard from you in months. I know that's the job, but it's been so long without a sign or anything. I was afraid something happened to you. I didn't know what to think," you say all at once.

"I know, I'm sorry. I'll explain everything, I promise. Just, let me look at you first," he says, gazing on you softly, "Wow. How is that possible?"

"What?"

"How are you more beautiful than the last time I saw you?"

You feel your cheeks turn red, but it doesn't keep you from pointing a finger to his chest.

"If you think being a smoothie is going to get you out an explanation, think again, buster."

He wraps his arms around your waist.

"Fair enough," he nods, "It's still true though. You're even prettier when you're angry."

"I must be stunning then," you smirk.

He brings his hand up to lift your chin, leaning in close, "Incredibly."

The waning space between you vanishes as he captures your lips. You lean into his touch, savoring every sensation you'd missed so much. From the warm, smokiness of his scent to the gentle scratch of his beard on your skin. When he finally pulls away, you're nearly breathless.

"Why don't you make yourself at home, stranger?" you propose, composing yourself, "You want a drink?"

"I wouldn't say no to a beer," he replies.

"Coming right up," you say, turning towards the kitchen, "They feed you in 'nowhere'? I got half of a leftover sub here, and some really leftover pizza I can nuke in the microwave."

"Tempting, but I'm good for now, thanks. Just the beer," you hear him say as you grab two bottles from the fridge.

"Good call, honestly. We can just order take out or something."

He doesn't respond, and it immediately catches your attention. You grab the bottle opener from the drawer and make quick work of the caps. With a faraway look in his eye, he stands on the other side of the modest island that separates the kitchen area from the living area. You extend the bottle towards him, and even when he takes it from your grasp, he's barely shaken from his silent reverie.

Too worried to imbibe, you set your own drink down on the counter. "Court, what's wrong? I can tell something is bothering you."

He takes a drink, which is followed by a long pause.

"Do you remember Fitzroy's niece, Claire?"

You nod. "Of course. Is she alright?"

"She is now," he sighs, setting his jaw, "Fitzroy is gone."

"What?" you say, rounding the island to be at his side.

"It's a long story, but some bad people got ahold of Claire to get to him, because of something that I did. We took care of it in the end, but...he didn't make it."

He takes another hefty drink and puts down the bottle.

"Court, I'm so sorry," you say, touching his arm, "I know how much he meant to you."

He turns to face you. "He did. Now Claire has no one, except me. And that's what I came here to talk to you about."

Your pulse quickens at the seriousness in his voice.

"Her and I have been on the run the past couple weeks. Staying ahead of Carmichael and his goon squad."

"Wait, you escaped the agency?" you ask, shocked.

"Didn't have a choice after they tried to use her as leverage to get me to keep doing their dirty work. I got her out, which means I'm out too, for good," he confirms solemnly, "I've found a place for us where we might actually have a shot at a normal-ish life."

You stare at him wide-eyed.

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying...I'm all she has left. She needs me. And I need you," he says, gently rubbing your upper arms, "Before, I couldn't give you the life you deserved. But this could be my second chance. I think I might have finally gotten to the top of the hill, and I want you there with me."

"Oh Court, I don't know..." you hesitate, mind reeling, "I don't know anything about raising a kid."

He grins. "Neither do I. We can figure it out together. I mean there's gotta be a manual or something, right?"

You can't help but snort at the idea. Just as more protests are forming on your tongue, he gives you a look so disarming that you forget the words entirely.

"Come away with me, Y/N."

He takes your hand in his.

"It won't be easy, and it definitely won't be perfect. I know I've got no right to ask you to leave everything behind. But I've loved you from the very beginning, and I will protect you with everything I have."

His vow brings tears to your eyes. He laid his heart bare, and in doing so, he'd banished the last of your meager doubts.

"Well, when you put it that way," you say.

You grab the collar of his jacket in your fists and pull him into a kiss. He hums in pleasant surprise and laces his fingers through your hair. After another heated moment of rediscovery, you at last loosen your grip and surface from the embrace.

"Is that a yes?" he chuckles.

"It is," you answer, your smile becoming nervous as your thoughts turn to the future, "Do you think Claire will like me?"

"Oh, don't worry, she's going to love you," he smirks, letting you go and walking over to the window. "Honestly, I'm not sure I'm going to survive you two. This was probably a bad idea."

"Now I really I can't wait to meet her," you tease.

Your amusement fades, however, as you watch him part the curtain and cautiously peer up at the surrounding rooftops.

Dread stirs in the pit of your stomach.

"How much time do we have?" you ask.

"We should probably get you packed up," he says over his shoulder.

"Really? I thought we'd at least have tonight. Are you being followed right now?"

"Not yet. No one knows about this place. But the longer I'm here, the greater the possibility that changes," he frowns, "I need to get back to Claire. I took a risk coming here. She can't be alone for long."

You mind begins to race as your gaze darts around your apartment and belongings. The framed pictures scattered across the walls of old friends and family you hardly see suddenly meant more than anything tucked away in the safe beneath your bed. But could you even take them? Would having any ties to your old life be too dangerous?

Old life. The thought makes your head spin.

"This is happening so fast," you say as you rub your temples, "I never thought I'd just leave everything. I don't even know what to take with me."

"Hey," he says, stepping back over to you, "It's alright. Listen, I know I got caught up in pouring out my dumb old heart a minute ago, but you don't have to do this, Y/N. If you want to stay, I understand."

"No, I'm coming with you," you deny, "I want to be with you, no matter where we have to go. I've never wanted anything more. You have made it to the top, Court, and I wouldn't miss the view for anything."

All this time, you had been the only refuge in the world for "Sierra Six". Now, more than ever, he was becoming yours.

He kisses your forehead softly and smiles down on you.

"How about we just start small, and go from there. Baby steps. Like, maybe a suitcase?" he suggests.

"Sounds good," you agree, "Guess I don't need to pack the kitchen sink for wherever we're going?"

He snickers, "No, we have one of those. Got one in the bathroom too. We even have a toilet."

"I wasn't expecting such luxury," you smirk.

"I mean you have to hold the handle down a little to get it to flush, but other than that," he quips.

"Well, I suppose I'll survive," you say in mock exasperation.

"We do have a TV, so that kinda makes up for it. Plus, I got queen bed all to myself. I might could be persuaded into sharing, though."

You cross your arms, eyeing his suggestive look.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, but you'll have to sleep on top of the covers. I don't wanna get your girl germs on my sheets."

"Courtland Gentry," you grunt, smacking his arm.

You take off down the hall to your room, and he follows after you laughing.

"What? What'd I say?" he asks, knowing full well.

"Why don't I just sleep on the floor?" you pose.

You bolt over to your dresser and start rummaging through your clothes, keeping your back to him.

"Okay, you're right. That was unfair of me," he concedes.

Biting your lip, you spin around with your eyebrows raised.

He stands in the doorway, pulling a stick of gum from his pocket and unwrapping it, "You can get under the comforter."

You throw a shirt at him, shaking your head.

"Shut up and help me pack."

He pops the gum in his mouth and smiles.

"Yes ma'am."

[madhatterbri]

Daddy's Home | D.M.

Summary: Drew and Y/N reenact a fantasy of hers. 18+.

Author's Note: I miss him, bro.

Happy Monday Night RAW, babes. ❤️

Trigger warning(s): CNC.

Drew McIntyre Masterlist

WWE Masterlist

Taglist: @theworldofotps @magicalbuttertarts @keytothewardy @smallestsnarkestgirl @surdelcielo

Drew walked around the cabin with a sinister smile on his face. Inside of her cabin was everything he imagined it to be. Cutesy little wood sayings hung from the walls. A simple rug with a couch on it. In front of the couch stood a coffee table. The warm hot chocolate still steaming from the mug. Large windows allowed the moonlight to poke through. The same very windows that caused her to find him watching her. None of that mattered now. He had her right where he wanted her.

"Daddy's Home!" He called out. The intruder listened for any sound to indicate her whereabouts. Any increased breathing or tiny sound, but there was none. Drew perked up when he noticed a small little detail that pointed him to the right direction. A corner on a rug in front of the hallway closet was lifted up.

"Now where is that little lass?" He pondered loudly. The man made it a point to kick the corner of the rug back to place. A breathy no came from the closet. This was too easy like stealing a bracelet from CM Punk.

He peaked through the small crack in the closet. There she was right for him to take. She was in a ball in the corner of the closet. Her hands gripped over her mouth to keep quiet. A pair of pajamas that happened to be his favorite covered her frame. The girl had no excuse for that one, she wanted this just as much as he did perhaps more. When their eyes met, she started to panic.

"Found you," he smirked. "Did you really think you could get away from me?"

The tone in his voice was so condescending. He appeared to really think her escape was laughable. A cruel chuckle sent shivers down her spine.

Drew grabbed her arm. Any poor attempts to escape his grasp went unnoticed by him. The words coming out of her mouth didn't make sense. Not that he cared anyway. He dragged her to her bedroom and locked the door behind him.

His hand came up to her neck before sliding down the fabric of her pajamas. He cupped her breast in his hand. Thumb swirled around her nipple causing her to whine. "Let me see what we have going on under here. Strip,"

Eyes widened to the size of saucers. There was no way he thought she would oblige to such a request. When she didn't move, the man grew impatient.

"You do it, or I do, and I assure you that you don't want me doing that,"

Piece by piece, her clothes started to come off. Her eyes darted away when she noticed him palming himself over his jeans. His hand went lower the more excited he became.

"It's cold," she complained when the last of her clothes pooled on the floor. Her arms wrapped over her chest to warm herself up and hide herself.

"Don't worry. I'll warm you up soon. I'm going to warm you up really nice. Now get on the bed. No funny business,"

She never took her eyes off of him. Obeying his orders, she crawled backward until her head rested against the pillows. The warm blankets beneath her a nice change from the cold cabin bedroom.

Drew crawled on the bed. The mere sight of her trembling almost ended him. Tonight was going to be the best night of his life.

"Open," he ordered and slapped her inner thighs. It wasn't enough to hurt her, but it definitely made her act quicker. She did as she was told. Drew placed his knees at her inner thighs to keep them open.

He removed his flannel and white t shirt. His light eyes went back to her before finding interesting pieces of equipment attached to the bedposts.

"And what are these?"

She turned her head, and her heart sank. Heat burned at her cheeks.

Black straps hung from the top corners of the bedposts. He grabbed one carefully. She could see his brain think of all the possibilities with these.

"Give me your hand,"

"But I've been good," she objected.

Drew snapped his head towards her. Fierce eyes stared into hers. She only held his gaze for a few seconds before obeying his previous command.

With little fanfare, the intruder bound both her hands securely.

Apprehensively, Drew kissed her lips. She didn't kiss him back, but there was no biting either. He continued to kiss her. Finally, she started to get involved. This was the first nice act he had done since coming into her home.

His lips left hers and started to trail to her neck. She resisted her binds when he found a sweet spot of hers. Drew made sure to stick around. He kissed and nipped at the part. A couple of times, his teeth came into contact with her flesh, followed by a quick lick.

Continuing his journey, he stimulated her breasts. Kisses and tongue laps on each of her nipples. More resistance to the straps. The bedposts creaking as they moved.

Drew wasn't bothered by any of it until he noticed her trying to close her legs. The stimulation was just a little too much for her. An idea popped into his head.

He moved his knees lower to allow her to cut off her sex from him. For now.

There was an act of pretending he didn't notice. He kissed down her stomach and up to just above her crotch. Drew feigned surprise when he noticed.

"Spread these legs, lass. It appears you have been enjoying this so far," he teased. For good measure, he mocked her whimpers and moans.

"But it's as far as they'll go," she lied.

"Not good enough. I guess we will do it my way,"

"Wha- wait!" She called out. The back of her thighs gripped in his strong hands. He bent her in half; her knees were now close to her chest. His prize is now on full display for him. The unmistakable sign of her pleasure started to wet her inner thighs.

"Don't worry, lass, I got you,"

Drew used his body to keep her in this position. Her ass rested against his muscular body. His hands still gripped her thighs to keep her legs spread.

"Shall I play with my food first or dig in?" He asked.

The only response was her trying to get out of her binds.

"I guess I get to choose," he shrugged. "All this has worked up my appetite,"

His hot breath could be felt between her legs. The warmth felt nice from the cold air. She shivered in anticipation. It didn't take long before his tongue lapped at her. He gripped her thighs tighter as a warning when she squirmed.

A moan ripped out of her from the roughness. She nodded in understanding. He wanted her to stay still and suffer. All she could do was obey. Tears poured down the side of her face in frustration.

The way he ate her out made her feel like they had been together before. He knew all the places to tease. Each flick and lick sent another wave of pleasure crashing down on her. Her legs started to twitch.

"Please, stop,"

"Oh no, lass, I don't think I should. Love the manners, though,"

With renewed vigor, he continued on. Each flick and lick of his tongue sent her closer to the edge. Her legs twitched and tensed some more. A curse signaled her unraveling.

His light eyes watched as she came undone. He lapped anything she gave him. Even through her orgasm she wasn't granted any reprieve. Y/N was truly at the mercy of the intruder. Finally, he let her lay on the bed.

"You have had your fun. Now, let me go and leave,"

The half-naked man laughed. He gripped his belt and started to unbuckle it.

"No, darling, it appears you have had all the fun. Now it is my turn,"

Y/N looked away. Every ruffling of clothes made her heart pound loudly in her chest. She closed her eyes tightly. This had to be a nightmare. Maybe if she could just pinch herself, she would wake up.

"Now who is this handsome fella?"

Her eyes immediately opened. She turned to look at him. The now naked intruder held a picture frame in his hands. A picture of her and her boyfriend. They were cuddled together with his head resting on hers. Mountains were in the background from when they visited Europe.

"He looks like someone that could use a lesson or two on pleasing a woman. Maybe we should let him watch,"

"Please, leave him out of this. I've done everything you wanted," she pleaded.

Her pleas went unnoticed. The picture frame was placed back on the nightstand. Her boyfriend's face and bright smile stared back at her. Drew climbed on the bed again.

"I have no ill will towards him. He seems like a guy I'd have a pint with. Who knows, maybe one day we will both be at the bar. I'll buy him a drink. He is going to need one when you think about me from now on,"

He placed himself between her legs. A renewed fight against her binds ended almost as quickly as it started. The head of his dick rubbed between her folds. To prolong things, he started a conversation.

"How rude of me. Do you want short, quick bursts, or do you want to feel all of me?"

"Go to hell," she spat.

"My choice again? Jeez, honey, you are quite giving tonight. It must be the holidays," he commented.

Her knees were bent to her chest again. A strong grip to her thighs to keep her still. The lewd way she was displayed for him made her cheeks burn in embarrassment. He was going to force her to enjoy this. Force her to enjoy every inch of him.

Y/N felt him push inside of her. Her walls stretched to accommodate him. She panted as her body took him. He made her feel so full. Almost filled to the brim, he pushed the rest of him forward roughly. It was to get her attention, and he had it.

"Don't be shy cause he is watching," he told her. His head motioned towards the picture frame. Her face turned to the picture. "Maybe he can learn a thing or two,"

Before any sort of retort, Drew started to pull out. He stopped just when the tip was about to come out before sliding all the way back in. The pace was painfully slow. Her body once again betrayed her.

Whenever he pulled back, she tightened around him. Her mouth parted as her eyes were half closed. Her legs relaxed in his grip. She was completely his for the taking.

Keeping a slower pace allowed Drew to control the situation. His dick hitting all her spots with ease. It wasn't long before she was chasing another orgasm. She could tell the intruder was chasing his. His controlled thrusts were being replaced by shorter, more erratic ones.

Her legs tensed, and for the second time, she orgasmed. Drew fucked her through it. His hands gripped her thighs roughly. She hissed in response. Y/N swore she heard him grunt an apology. He gave her one final thrust before he stilled. His abs tensed as he filled her.

Heavy breathing replaced the previous sounds of pleasure. Drew pulled out when he was ready. Her legs were placed back down on the mattress.

He began showering her with compliments. Y/N watched him take off one of the binds from her wrists. He rubbed her wrist gently and kissed it tenderly. The same was repeated for her other wrist.

"How did I do?" He asked. The doting boyfriend sealed the question with a sweet peck to her lips.

"Daddy's home?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

Drew grabbed a blanket from the foot of the bed. He covered them as he laid next to her.

"You didn't seem to mind it," he winked.

[seancekitsch]

Can’t Stand Me Now; a modern Aegon x Stark! reader fic

CHAPTER FOUR: Sat in Your Lap

Y/N Stark and Aegon Targaryen. Aegon Targaryen and Y/N Stark. Inseparable since both eldest children met at Kings Landing University, until they weren’t. One night of drunken passion ruins it all.

Five years later, Aegon is coming off a broken engagement to Larissa Lannister and sends a risky Instagram DM to none other than Y/n Stark.

series masterlist here

warnings for the series: smut, smoking, drinking, friends to strangers to lovers, angst, fluff, more to come as needed

You’re pacing back and forth in the dimly lit store, your boot heels clacking against the hardwood as you nervously keep checking your phone. It’s an hour past closing time, and five minutes until Aegon arrives. You reach for your emergency perfume stash- always in the drawer under the till. After living here for almost ten years, you still cannot get used to how even chilly weather in King’s Landing is warmer than Winterfell’s summer. You spritz yourself frantically all over, making several passes over your hair and pits. You flap your hands and flip your hair, hoping that it isn’t obvious what you’ve just done. This is you frantic, this is you nervous. 

One drink couldn’t hurt, right? You have a wine fridge in the back for private appointments. You could uncork one bottle and have a glass so maybe your hands wouldn’t shake when you go to open the door for him. You could have two glasses and still maintain poise in conversation. Three and you could still talk your way out of an argument. This justifies what you need it to as you walk over and gladly grab the bottle, wine glasses already perched on end tables for decor. The cork is impaled and easily slides out, the motions like a second nature to you, wine not lasting long at all in your clutches. 

The bottle glugs as you unceremoniously pour, and then silences when you place it down, your hands replacing it with the glass. You resume your pacing, easier now than it was with your phone in your hand. You put the wine to your lips and take a deep sip, savoring the mouthful before swallowing. It’s Dornish, but not overly expensive. A bottle that costs more than your bills has never been your desire, despite the fact that all the wine you knocked from cabinets in the cellar as a kid easily cost more than your current flat. You take another sip, and step over towards the couch, finally ready to sit. 

But just as soon as your boots hit the rug, you’re stopped by the rapping of knuckles on the wooden doorframe. Behind the glass, Aegon stands on the sidewalk bathed in the reddish warm glow of your shops outside lighting. Like this, his hair looks red like his mother’s, his face looks gaunt and haunted. Even still, handsome as ever. You sigh, fingers flexing against your wine glass. No way to change your mind and escape this. Traversing the hardwood is easy, easier than it should be. It feels almost as if your body is ready to welcome Aegon back, despite all the hurt still stored in your heart and head as your hand makes quick work of the locks and open the door. 

“Started without me?” he asks, tipping his chin towards your wine.

“I’ll— I’ll pour you a glass.”

You don’t spare him another glance as you walk away from him, autopilot back to the wine fridge as you go back to your opened bottle. You eye it up, then turn to look at him. If Aegon is watching you, he’s doing an amazing job of hiding it. He looks around the dim shop, face turning from one rack to another. You decide to top yourself up again before you pour his glass. 

You offer it to him with a clearing of your throat. Now that he’s here and in front of you, words leave you. What to even say to him? You feel small, like the sad graduate who waited all day and night for him to return. You feel the same way you did when you packed up his belongings to leave for him at his parent’s doorstep. 

Aegon reaches for the glass, his fingers just barely brushing yours. Your first instinct is to rip your hand away, but the need to not shatter the glass against your floor stops the impulse. 

“Cheers.”

“Yeah, cheers.”

Silence settles over the two of you, but it’s not exactly uncomfortable. For as loud as you and Aegon made things in university, there were just as many times where it was the two of you quiet and lounging, indulging in blunts or a bottle of wine and just decompressing together. Entire nights spent in Aegon’s lap drunk and escaping whatever drama your friend group had created, a break up, or worst and most commonly a call from your respective families. Granted, that was secret. Those moments were just for you and Aegon and no one else. 

“You did it,” He whispers, hand gesturing all around before sipping his wine. You nod. Yes, you did. Part of you excitedly wants to talk business with Aegon, your first supporter and first wearer of your designs, but instead you just take a long drink. 

“I’m so proud of you,” he tells you, his smile warm and his eyes sincere.

“Why are you here?”

“You invited me?” he looks confused, pouting as his brows scrunch up, “you said this was neutral ground to talk. But I don’t even know what you mean by that. We’ve never needed —“

“No; I mean…” you gather your courage with another sip, “Why are you sliding into my DM’s? Why are you back? Why are you being kind to me when I’m nothing but cold towards you?”

“I don’t care if you’re cold to me,” he scoffs, “Everyone’s cold to me.”

He rolls his shoulders, as if shrugging off a shroud. He finishes his wine quickly. Aegon contemplates his words, his eyes traveling your body as he does, his lip sucked between his teeth as he sighs.

“I couldn’t let things end the way they did with us.”

And how did they end? Did they end at all? Even real break ups came with closure, this gave you nothing but an aversion to the color green and a heightened need to hide from the tabloids. Countless times since graduation your father had called you, begging you to bring your business up north if you would not join the family business, to get away from paparazzi that chase heiresses with a penchant for club hopping. Though you cannot blame him, he’s lost all three of his children to the decadence and fast pace of the south. More or less, to the way of the Targaryens. 

“Your sister told me that my name is a curse,” you bring up, annoyance growing, “Apparently you lot seek out Starks lately.”

Aegon sighs again, and places the wine glass down as he runs his hands through his hair. He nods as he squeezes his eyes shut, and you down the rest of your wine, gulping it down. 

“Has been since I left your flat, if I’m being honest,” he chuckles, his lips pouting, “basically destroyed my life because I missed you.”

You nod in understanding, a tear escaping the corner of your eye as you take him in, getting a really good look at him. The other night he had been blurred by streetlights, obscured by rum. Now his features are laid bare to you, now you see the real him. He looks tired, in every sense of the word. His hair is unkempt, clearly due for a hair cut. There are deep circles under his eyes, and if you didn’t know better you’d think they were bruises. 

“So why now?” you ask, your voice struggling to keep an even tone, “Why blow your life up and come find me now?”

“Would you believe that Aemond set me straight?” He asks, and you shake your head. No, of course you wouldn’t. Aemond is stoic, and as far as you know, has always completely hated you. More than a few times you’d stumbled into the Targaryen summer house absolutely hammered, hanging onto Aegon as you sang bantered and made Aemond lose sleep for the entire night. You annoyed the serious son.

“I mean, I had a model influencer for a fiancee, I had good standing in the company, a fuckin’ Lambo!” He chuckles, but there’s no humor in his voice, “Yet all I could think, every hour on the hour: Where did it all go wrong?”

You cannot help but chuckle at that. It would be a lie to say you don’t find yourself asking the same question from time to time. 

“You’re what went wrong, by the way. Aemond pushed me to reach out after the stunt I pulled, even though I told him you probably hated me.”

You’re going to have to send Aemond some kind of basket or something, or pay for an excursion for him and his fancy older professor girlfriend. But Aegon was right too, you had hated him, or at least convinced yourself that you did. When his father died, you only sent condolences to his mother; you debated burning everything of his that he’d left in your flat; you refused to make any of your designs in green, in irrational fear that it would signal forgiveness or yearning. His lack of presence had never gotten easier though, and the yearning only got easier to ignore but not extinguish. Hells, you’d even been stupid enough one night to fuck Martyn Reyne, and after that unsatifsying night the rest of Aegon’s friend group had kept their distance from you as well. You lost all of your close friends in a short span of time, you’d refused to go home despite the city feeling like a ghost of your past. 

More tears escape, and Aegon is immediately drawing you into him, pulling you close as he whispers to you in a vain attempt at comfort. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he tells you, or maybe tells both of you from the raggedness of his breathing. Your arms weakly return the hug, first circling him gently, then returning his hold. The two of you hug tightly, pressing yourselves together like it’s the last time, and maybe it will be. 

“Why did you leave that day?” you ask him, more abrupt than you had wanted to, but the words are out there. The moment of truth.

“I didn’t want to,” he says, and his voice sounds so fucking small. Somehow, that enrages you. His sadness, his pain at this situation you’re both in. 

“So why did you?” you ask, pulling back, voice sharp as a needle. 

Aegon appears pricked by it, good. He clenches his jaw, and backs away. The distance between you mere inches but also cavernous. 

“I got her fucking pregnant, alright!” His voice raises, but you don’t flinch. The truth finally out, filing the cavern.

Your chest feels hot, heavy, like a stone. 

“Aegon?” you had roused him from his silence, a blunt passed between the two of you as you you lounged on your bed. He hummed as he opened an eye, his sock covered feet tapped a beat against your wall. 

“What do you want for your life?” you had asked. Aegon had shown up miserable, ready to fight and rage, and you had tamed him with a blunt. Only then did he tell you his parents had ended their lunch visit by berating him about his future.

“Not work at the fucking company,” he scoffed.

“Well obviously,” you rolled over, leaned on your elbows as you examined his face. 

“Neverending party?” He phrased it like a question. 

“Boring,” you poked his nose, “We already have that.”

“A family?” another question, “Be a better parent than mine, I guess.” You nodded, then ducked your head down to rest your face against his shoulder. 

“The fact that you’re even thinking of that tells me you will be,” you told him. 

Aegon tilted his head to lean against yours. 

“And I want you in my life.”

You promised him you always would be, and cuddled closer as the blunt fizzled out. 

You recall that conversation the moment the words leave his mouth. Suddenly, you don’t blame him for ghosting you. You and your love for him did not fit into an equation where Aegon was going to have a child with Larissa Lannister. You want to cry again as you nod at him, your eyes searching his, desperately hoping he can see the sympathy in yours. The anger you felt takes a back seat to clarity.

But wait…

“Then where is-?”

“She didn’t even end up having the kid, but she sure ran straight to her father and mine about it,” he interrupts you, bitterly recalling the events as if the words were poison in his mouth. 

“I just…” He pouts, a hopeless face, “I couldn’t face you and they all finally liked me, and then even that wasn’t worth it. So I wrote a speech about everything I wanted to say to you and I read it and Otto tried to make Mum disown me.”

You had already heard about that. All of the puzzle pieces now finally fell into place. He had hurt you, he had probably hurt Larissa many times, he had hurt the company. It’s no wonder Helaena had called your name a curse. But now, Aegon is free from burden, yet he doesn’t look like a man at ease. 

“Can I have another glass?” He asks you, and of course you oblige. You lead him to the back room, and let him select what he wants. He picks a sweet one, a sangria blend. 

“Take the whole bottle, I’m about to,” you tell him, and grab yourself a dry one that tastes of oak and the berries back home. He uncorks both of them, and walks back into the main store room to retrieve the glasses. He pours yours first, nearly filling the wine glass. He then pours his to the brim as well. 

“Cheers.”

“Cheers.”

“I had a date planned.”

You nearly spit your wine back into the glass at the confession. 

“A date? When?”

A part of you is worried that he has a driver out there waiting to take you to somewhere lavish or to one of your old spots, maybe even the pier. 

“That day. I was going to take you around the city to all of our spots, grab a drink at each, and I was gonna tell you something over every drink.”

“Like what?”

“Like how I realized I wanted to be with you when I watched you take a blowjob shot at Sylvie’s in Fleabottom. I was so angry at the way I saw Martyn watching you that night. Wanted to kill him for looking at what’s mine.”

You laugh, genuinely. You remembered only part of that night; a drunken stupor of karaoke, dancing, shots with your hands behind your back, and then clinging to Aegon as he held you up by the end of the night. His arms saving you from your knees hitting cobblestones, his continuous joking stopping you from falling asleep on the train. You had almost kissed Aegon that night; his haircut was fresh and his aftershave minty and intoxicating, you hung onto him even before you needed his help walking. That was sophomore year.

Aegon takes a long drink from his glass, and stares at the floor. 

“She was at my dorm when I got back to change. So was Dad.”

In the four years of university that Aegon attended, you’d only ever heard of Viserys Targaryen going to see his children from his second marriage a total of twice, and both were for building dedications and not actually to see his children. You take a longer drink than his last, letting the wine fill your mouth in gulps. 

“I wish I had known,” you say between gulps, “But I don’t know how much that would have changed things.”

He nods, the understanding hanging in the space between you. Aegon finishes off his glass of wine, his eyes searching you the entire time. Maybe, you think, this is his first time seeing you without the rose colored glasses of nostalgia as well. Five years of life to take in. Would he notice your tattoo? The changes to your hair? The inevitable beginning signs of wrinkles that smoking like a chimney gives you?

Insecurity creeps up your skin like a rash, heat flooding your system at the scrutiny. Your mind swirls, but more than anything you wonder: Does Aegon like what he sees? Does Aegon like what he sees? Does Aegon like what he sees?

“I have loved you for so long,” Argon’s voice cracks as he speaks, his eyes glassy and wide, “Its good to see you again.”

Your mind stops, heat remaining under your skin changing into something else. Part of you wants to throw your cares and your wine to the wind and rush forward to embrace him, another part of you wants to react like a woman scorned. 

“I loved you too,” is all you offer instead, finishing off your glass of wine as well. Your bottles sit on the table, almost empty at this point. The lamp light illuminates the wine golden, almost sparkling. You focus on how it glitters, the way both of them sit with their liquid below the label. 

“Loved?”

There’s a tear in the corner of his eye, threatening to fall down his cheekbone. 

“Aeg,” you shake your head, not sure how to say the words, “I… I spent so much time trying to hate you.”

Aegon steps forward, closing the gap between you. His fingers twitch, as if he’s going to reach out for your own, yet the contact doesn’t come. 

“Only try?” he snorts in laughter, smiling; not smirking, not sneering.

“Trying didn’t really suit me,” you tell him, tilting your head as you joke. 

A half hour later, both bottles as well as the first bottle you opened are done, and Aegon is holding the door for you as you both finally exit the shop. The tension between the two of you is gone, yet no boisterous laughter or singing commences. What remains is subdued, a reconciliation not translated to a restoration. He stands protectively over you as you lock the door a final time, as if you do not do this alone almost every night, as if this is not a safe posh neighborhood. He sways on his feet, the wine definitely having gone to more than just his head. Yet, he remains cautious. 

“Listen, if I walk you home safe, can we be friends again?” He asks, and you pretend to think about it. 

“I think we can try.”

“Try? Try, you’ve said you try things,” he mumbles, the drunk leading the drunk as you giggle at his rambling. He uses a hand against the window to stabilize himself as he tries to turn towards the train stop the next block over, however his feet dont quite cooperate. You make a point to jingle your keys a little extra before dropping them into your bag, rolling your eyes at him and his doubts. 

“C’mon, let’s catch the train,” you tell him, stumbling as your toes catch on one another as you turn. 

You can try to be friends again, you think. 

[mossygirl333]

Could I request for Boba Tea - body worship with Astarion with female human reader please?

AN: Coming right up! Hot and fresh <3

Bakery Order: Boba Tea - body worship

Astarion x human!wizard!reader

Tw/Cw: smut, porn w/plot, Astarions Lowkey a munch, some blunt dirty talk, mentions of weight and gaining weight, intimate, established marriage

SMUT UNDER THE CUT!!!

The room was dimly lit, candles flickering silently in the corners. Settled in front, a giant ornate hearth, the fire crackling and causing you to squint your dry eyes. Deepened shadows, tall and looming lined the walls.

The Inn was nice, clean, expensive but you had been travelling for months. Astarion told you that you needed more rest. Everyone did.

"Darling, you keep pushing yourself. Those silly little spells wont do anything when you have bags under your eyes the size and color of dead coals. Now rest in this nice place and let me pay for Utamo's sake!"

A snort of laughter left your lips as you remembered his words, settling into the bear skin rug, fur thick and soft under your hands. Halsin was...quite surprised when his room had one as well. And quite uncomfortable.

"Whats so funny my dear?" The door quietly shuts beside him, settling down a goblet of wine. His blood red eyes settling onto your form. Lithe but strong, graceful and regal he was. But those hands could snap a neck and tear a tendon quite easily.

Those fangs under those sly smirking lips could do a lot more too.

A shudder ran down your body, barely suppressed as you finally met his eyes. Curling up in your quilt a bit tighter. "Just thinking is all. About Halsin and his shock."

"Ah yes, that nature obsessed hunk." He jokingly gags, sliding in beside you. Opening up your arms, Astarions joins you under the covers. Ring gleaming in firelight. "I'd rather you just focus on me instead. The pretty one, maybe?"

"I thought the pretty one was me?" You ask, staring down at him as his cheek pressed against the curve of your breast. Nose nudging against the cleavage.

"I think we're tied." He snickers, pressing a tender kiss to your jaw. Pausing for a moment before pressing another one. "You smell good my dear."

"Me or my blood?" You raise a brow, tracing his neck with your nails, before burying them in his white locs. Thick and curled, gentle against your palm with the smell of his bar soap.

"Aren't you made up of both? But as much as I love your blood...I'm not exactly looking for that tonight." He trails his eyes down, palm gently resting on your thigh.

"I've gained weight." You curtly state. Sighing as you watch his hand sink into your thigh.

"Happy weight."

"Still weight."

"It looks good."

"I doubt you can even pick me up anymore."

He huffs, and grabs your chin. Making you look at him. Expression slightly soured and exasperated. "Shush! By Lathanders light, shush! Enough with this nonsense, I'm not going to listen to the woman I love insult herself like she's some cow. Because you aren't. You...You are beautiful. Understand me?"

You pause, sighing and locking eyes with him. Watching as the firelight flickers across his sharp features. Strong nose, round ruby eyes filled with slight hurt and thin lips pulled down into a pouty frown.

"It's just hard. Looking different than before. I'm afraid I won't be pretty to you if I change too much." You admit. The insecurity slightly bubbling up. It was true. Pants are slightly tighter now. You needed a size up in your bras and to be honest, looking at everyone else, you felt like the only one who's gained some.

"I don't care if it's 3 pounds or 300, you...you my dear are the most stunning, beautiful woman in this entire city. In the entirety of Faerun, I have never once witnessed a person who so similar reminded me of the sun. Hell, I hadn't even remembered what the sun looked like before you. Before this all. Why would I abandon the woman I'm marrying, the woman I want to have children with for something so daft as weight? Do you take me for an idiot?" He cups your jaw, forcing you to look up at him. Eyes full of sincerity and softness, hands cold but gentle.

This was what Astarion was to you. And what you were to him. The sun and the moon. A yin and yang situation that played on like prose poetry. Bright smiles and sharp tongues. Magic and madness. Lives played out like chess games by their masters but broken free. The white piece and the black piece. Now off the boards, no longer tied down by it. No longer held under cruel scheming hands.

They had each other.

And they wanted each other.

You hadn't really noticed he was kissing you until your back hit the bear skin rug. Snapping out of your daze, hands coming up to his face. Whispers between kisses sent between you, breathless and quiet, neither of you could hear each other.

But it didn't matter. You just needed to know he was there. And that was all you needed.

His knee nudges your thighs apart, his lips trailing down your neck. Pulse thumping under them. Soft and cold, undead but how his heart burned for yours.

Slightly hitching, you make room for his body. Thighs sliding up to rest on his broad shoulders, his hands pushing up your shirt. Desperate to get to the hot plump skin underneath, tongue darting out to taste it. Trailing down new stretchmarks he stops at your pants. Eyes coming up to meet yours again.

Quietly nodding, he situated you so he could toss aside your garments. Shorts and underwear dangerously close to the fireplace.

You laugh, reaching over and snagging them away. "Dummy."

"My bad, my love. Wouldn't wanna burn your knickers and start a panic, imagine that. Gale runs into a half-naked you and my face shoved in your cunt while the hotel burns down."

A shudder of arousal seeps down your core, now dewy and dripping, an opened flower full of nectar for your lover.

He sighs, lifting you up slightly, breath thick against your folds. Watching. Waiting. Before the tip of his nose nudges against your clit.

A whine leaves your lips, thighs squeezing against his temples as he groans. Mouth hot and heavy against your pussy, fingers denting into the plush fat.

"Feel so fucking beautiful wrapped around me, my love-" His tongue slips into you, licking up stripes. Collecting that tangy slick on his taste buds.

You squirm slightly but his hands keep you there. Nose buried in your clit, taking huffs of your smell. Desperate for more. "Please, darling, hold still, let me taste you."

You slowly grind yourself against his face. Riding the bridge of his nose. He chuckles, slipping his fingers in gently. Hips jerking, two digits curling and searching for that spot.

The pads of his fingers find it, spongy and warm. Pressing up into you, the coil in your belly growing tighter and tighter.

Mewls left your lips, drawn out and high pitched, Whining and writhing beneath him as he devoured you.

It wasn't so different than when he fed. Laid down and swallowed whole. Desperate and wanting to quell the fire in his bones. To feed the beast inside of him. But instead of bloodlust, a curse from his cruel master, it was the sexual desire and lust of a man. A craving only you could stop.

The coil snaps, slick flushing into his open mouth as he licks you clean. Shushing your pleasure filled cries, riding out the waves of heat and shock.

He pulls away, chin glistening as your thighs tremble. Let down slowly.

"Shh my dear....God you did so well. Look at you!" He giggles, pressing soaked lips to yours. Tangy and sweet, your slick heavy in his tongue. "Glowing I tell you. Orgasms suit you well."

You were pliant and soft, eyes heavy and content. Barely able to muster a breathy laugh before melting into his embrace. His body laid beside you.

"I love you." A whisper finally leaving you, enough breath entering your lungs to speak.

"I love you more, my dear."

AN: OMG OMG OMG I THINK THIS IS THE BEST THING I"VE EVER ACTUALLY WRITTEN????

[druidwolf21]

First impressions

So I had originally done something a bit longer and I was so happy with it but Tumblr is the worst and it deleted half my work

So this is the rewritten one

This is just the introduction of a little choose your own story where the events of the party play out differently depending on which Primark or other familiar face you choose.

No smut

Yet

It will be added

Let me know what ya think

@jaghatai-khock @moodymisty @beckyninja @lemon-russ

Part one with roboute guilliman is now here lol!

Part 2

Leman russ

Part 3

Sanguinius

https://www.tumblr.com/druidwolf21/766233367250370560/part-of-first-impressions?source=share

You sighed as you reached up and put the final pin in your hair, the golden aquilla sliding easily into your bun, completing the ensemble; A white Grecian dress, flowing and soft settled around your figure as you moved, one shoulder bared to the elements and golden chains caressing your waist. A nest of curled and braided hair sat on your head, gilded by the stretching wings of the eagle you had delicately nested in your locks and you curled two longer strands around your fingers to frame your face.

You checked your reflection in the small mirror perched over your dresser as you fiddled around checking the smaller details of your appearance. Lips painted a soft red and cheeks dusted with soft pink, basic but, then again, you didn't really want to make this much effort to begin with. Your discarded trousers and blazer heaped in a sad pile on the floor besides your bed. You give yourself a final once over before heading to the door.

So much time spent working your way up to a position of trust with generals and heads of households and now you are debased to this.

You hated it, but damn did you look good.

Entering the hall, your eyes widened in surprise as a serf whistled past you with a stack of plates, followed shortly by another, who's arms were piled with linens and tablecloths. The girl spun slightly, nervously spouting a rushed apology before hurrying after her friend. You peered after them before casting your eyes around the corridor.

Long walls and high ceilings stretched past you in both directions, at one end serfs and workers flittering about in the shadows, silently weaving in and out of low doors without a word, stark contrast to the other end where a large oaken door stood ajar, faint flicking light and muffled voices leaked from the crack.You grimaced and made your way towards the warm glow, muttering under your breath with every step

"stupid show and pomp"

""ridiculous dress code"

""make sure you were something nice" my arse"

You huffed and puffed, rolling your eyes with each curse you muttered.

Finally you reached the door. Pausing, you took a deep breath, plastered a wide smile on your face to mask the growing pit in your stomach and entered. The sudden rush of golden light and raucous chatter stunned you for a moment and you blinked dumbly as you adjusted to your surrounding.

The room was decadent to say the least, large sloping ceilings, framed by ivory walls and mahogany pillars. Epic tapestries of woven silk depicted battles of galactic proportions hung across the walls, showcasing the might of the imperium and the deaththroes of varying xenos, trampled under the boot of the emperors angels. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting their flickering and delicate light across the faces of the people milling about beneath, scuffing the carmine rugs under their feet.

A great golden aquilla, stitched in gold and framed in scarlet took pride of place across the wall farthest from you, its dual heads staring down at the crowd below, watching events unfold. The floor was peppered with smaller seating options and linen covered counters to compliment the long refectory table taking pride of place in the center. Gold and crystal carafes were spread out amongst decedent plates piled high with meats and vegetables, weighing down the table until it groaned under the gluttonous load. Serfs in black robes slipped between ranking officers and ambassadors, eyes kept low as high flying members of the imperium picking at the trays of warm morsels and goblet of honeyed mead and wine they carried.

The scent made your mouth water, but that wasn't the main attraction of the room.

Large figures looked over the crowds, casting long shadows across the swathes of people as they moved. some armed to the teeth, other in the varying formal wear of their home worlds.

Primarks and Astartes dominated the room.

You swipe a glass of amber liquid from a passing tray, smiling and thanking the serf before taking a sip, hiding your distaste as you watch nobles and lordlings vie for the attention of the emperors chosen. You continue to scan the masses, noting the colours and sigils of various planets before you felt eyes boring into your back.

Turning you met the steely gaze of the lord govenor.

Or, more accurately, your brother.

"you will dress appropriately and act according" he had hissed as he straightened his waistcoat, eyes catching yours as he stared into the mirror "I want none of.... this." He had turned and waved his hand at your combat fatigues, pursing his lips as he did so. "You are not a ruffian despite how much time you spend with the low borns and the militarum. I will NOT have you embarrass me"

You had rolled your eyes and given him a sarcastic response, smiling slightly at how stressed he had been.

he had gripped your jaw in his hand, twisting you to meet his gaze.

"we are not playing games, sister. Not today. Not with the primarks in attendance"

He released his grip, seeming to realise what he had done and spun away from you.

"now go get dressed, with any luck we can find you a husband to take you off my hands" he smiled apologetically, but the ache in your jaw told you all you needed to know

You returned your brother's cold stare and twitched your chin up defiantly before necking the rest of your glass and making your way into the milling huddle of people. Pointedly ignoring the primarks and their infatuated entourage ,You flittered easily between the nested tables, smiling and offering you hand and gentle nods to the lords and ladies of the dinner, laughing at their jokes, faking a blush as poor attempts to woo you. But with each introduction, each fake laugh or unsolicited touch you felt your patience wearing thin. Finally after what felt like the millionth thinly veiled flirt by an old man, you'd had enough. Gathering your dress, you politely excused yourself, slipping out of yet another dull debate and stalked towards the door, eyes locked forward in an attempt to escape the tedium.

For all it's decadence and beauty, this place was just another play for power and impressions. Just as dull as the people cloistered away with it's walls.

And you were done with it.

The night wasn't done with you, however.

[v3lnys]

let me reward you

Enea Bastianini/Fabio Di Giannantonio – 1.3k – Smut/Explicit thai gp 2024 Read here or on AO3

Diggia walked around his motorhome, a towel around his waist, water still dripping from a few of his strands and sliding down his back. Someone knocked on his door, startling him; just a few, but audibly insistent knocks. He moved the little curtains and peeked to see who was standing outside, promptly opening the door when he saw Enea. 

Enea almost pounced on Diggia the moment he was inside and the lock clicked shut, hands grasping onto his hips to bring Diggia closer, not giving Diggia a moment to speak before he smashed their lips together. The latter wrapped his arms around Enea’s neck, one hand tangling in the damp curls as Enea kissed him like he was starved. 

He tugged on Enea’s curls to break the kiss, chuckling a little at the way Enea tried to chase his lips. “Ciao, amore,” Diggia whispered with a little grin, face so close to Enea’s that his eyes almost crossed. 

“Diggi…” Enea breathed, looking winded just from the short, but intense kiss, looking up at the other man through half lidded eyes. “You were so fucking fast today, god…”

And Enea sometimes gets like this after Diggia’s had a good race. Needy, desperate to please. Other times it's Diggia coming to Enea's motorhome, smiling wide, but Enea can see that hungry look in his eyes – ‘Amazing moves out there today, amore…’

And today wasn't amazing for Enea, but he doesn't care about it, clinging to Diggia and attaching his lips to the warm skin of his neck, shoulders. Diggia is always a little uncertain about the attention, trying to be a gentleman. 

“Enea, wait–” Diggia breathes, pulling on the other man's curls to look at his face again. “Today it wasn't–”

And Diggia doesn't mean to rub it in, it's all just worry, that maybe Enea is trying to overcompensate, kick his own hurt under the rug. Enea knows this, finds it quite endearing that the other man cares so much, but now he just wants. Always wants to reward Diggia for how good he did. His own special compliment, just for them to experience. 

“I don't care–” Enea starts. He cares, a little bit. But not right now. “I did what I could, there's no point in getting stuck.” 

Diggia just can't let go, always insistent, “But, Enea–” 

“Diggi, please …” Enea whines, reedy and a little shaky. “Please let me. You know I– I'm fine, okay?” 

Diggia swallows, taking a deep breath and letting the desire wash over him as he exhales, making him shiver even though the feeling inside his abdomen is hot .

“You did so well,” Enea breathes it out somewhere against Diggia's ear. “Fuck, it almost got me hard when I heard.. Wanted you so bad when I watched the replay.” 

And it should be a little weird – unusual – that it's not his own achievements that get him like this. It's not weird now or ever though, not to them. Not like Diggia is any better with controlling his urges whenever Enea does good. 

Diggia sighs, light and soft, eyes closing as he imagines Enea watching the replay, zeroed in on Diggia, getting worked up by such a seemingly unexpected thing. 

Enea’s lips keep moving across the other’s shoulders, gently grazing his teeth across Diggia’s collarbone, the corners of his mouth tugging into a smirk at the way it makes Diggia shiver. He’d get on his knees now, but Diggia keeps a firm hold on his biceps, already steering him towards the bedroom. 

The bed squeaks a little under Diggia’s weight, Enea lowering himself to straddle his thighs, the hard outline of him pressing against Diggia’s bare skin. The kiss doesn’t stop, Enea licking into Diggia’s mouth with so much want that it leaves them both breathless, gasping as they pull apart, only to go back in again, Diggia caressing Enea’s bulge through his sweatpants. 

It’s not long before Enea can’t take it anymore, the built up desire fucking with his head. He slides off Diggia’s lap with one last kiss, the hard floor uncomfortable under his knees, but he doesn’t care about the ache, only cares about Diggia, fingers quickly working to pull apart the towel around his waist. And Diggia’s hard already, almost throbbing when Enea wraps his hand around it, squeezing a little before giving him a few strokes, thumb rubbing along the slit. He looks up and Diggia is already looking down at him, lips parted around a breathy little whine.

Enea almost wants to keep it slow, but the urge to devour Diggia’s whole being is just too strong. He sticks out his tongue and flattens it against the base of Diggia’s dick, licking up in a broad stroke until he reaches the tip, closes his lips around it and watches the desire lighting up in Diggia’s eyes. He loves that hungry look on Diggia, holds the eye contact as he slides his mouth all the way to the bottom, watching Diggia’s mouth open with a sharp gasp when he hits the back of Enea’s throat. 

And it’s dizzying, Enea’s brain almost shutting off when he has his mouth full, hands gripping Diggia’s hips to keep him still. The response is almost immediate, Diggia's hands tangling in the sheets to anchor himself, lips parting around soft moans – music to Enea's ears.

Enea breathes through his nose, letting his throat work around Diggia the way he likes it before starting to move his head up and down along his length. It feels like Diggia is everywhere, overwhelming Enea's senses in the best way: the smell of him, the taste, the feel. 

Enea digs his fingers into the firm muscle of Diggia's thigh as he speeds up his pace, one hand coming to wrap around the base of his dick, sliding downwards to squeeze Diggia's balls, massaging the taut skin.

Diggia feels the familiar warmth pooling in his abdomen, already almost delirious with the pleasure of Enea's mouth moving quickly, practiced and perfect. He can't get his thoughts under control, everything fuzzy and scrambled from the relentless pace Enea has set. 

And it's a little intense, making Diggia's arms quiver so much that he has to lower himself to his elbows, eyes still locked on Enea. He tangles his fingers in Enea's curls, tugs a little, just hard enough to make the other man moan around his dick, the vibrations shooting through his body like electroshock.

He's close, so close. Enea knows, can feel it in the way Diggia tries to weakly buck his hips up, the way his thighs tremble slightly. He sucks harder, takes Diggia to the back of his throat again, fingers pressing against his balls. 

“Enea–” Diggia gasps, fingers in the other's hair tightening, “I'm close– fuck –” he cries out, feeling his orgasm roll closer. 

Enea stays where he is, hand around the base of Diggia's dick, red, spit slick lips around the top and when he looks up at Diggia there's tears in his eyes, making him look so beautiful, almost ethereal.

The orgasm rips through Diggia, punching out a whiny, broken moan and it feels like his soul just left him, drained out of him along with the come and spilled far down Enea's throat. Enea looks wrecked in the best way, swallows every bit, milks out the last drops with his mouth. 

Far in his daze, Diggia didn’t notice or hear the moment Enea came into his own sweats, the friction from his hand and the sounds from Diggia enough to make him lose it. He only notices when Enea is climbing into bed alongside him, the wet patch pressing against Diggia's leg. 

Diggia laughs a little, airy and detached from reality, pulls Enea up so they're face to face and kisses him, tastes himself on his tongue and it's nothing they haven't done before, but it always feels so surreal, the way Enea manages to leave Diggia brainless. Enea smiles against his lips, chest still heaving a little from his own orgasm, slides down to rest his head against Diggia's chest and it's good, comfortable, Diggia absentmindedly stroking his hair.

“We should shower,” Diggia croaks, not really making any move to get up.

Enea only presses up against him more, buries his face against Diggia's pec and kisses it softly, “Just a little more…”

[13as07]

Object #7

(Akatsuki Smut)

[Artwork is not mine! Credit to Kacyu]

Requested by: Anonymous

Word Count: 5,024

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

Just... what the fuck :)

Characters Include: Konan, Sasori, Tobi

Name Calling: Mutt, Bitch, Cumdump, Cum-Rag, Slut, Whore, Puppet, Dolly

Degrading/Humiliation/Begging

Hair Pulling

Slapping/Gagging/Choking

Bedroom Toys: Handcuffs, Vibrator, Dildo, (in proper use of) Puppet, (in proper use of) Chakra Threads, (in proper use of) Puppy Pads, (in proper use of) Whipped Cream [more or less]

Titty Fondling

Overstimulation

Biting/Hickeys

Throat/Face Fucking

Threats of Violence

Dry Humping

Fingering (Female Receiving)

Oral (Female and Male Receiving)

Food Play

———————————————————————

     I hum softly to myself, my focus on using the towel to ring out my hair. Pain left early this morning for Lord knows what with my least favorite assassin, which has left me to get ready by myself for once. It's weird, getting to dress myself, doing my makeup, getting to do my hair. For... what feels like forever, Nagato has always done those things.

The towel is disregarded to the hamper as I stroll back over to Nagato's desk, settling into his chair so I can style my hair before getting dressed. Today - two minutes ago, actually - Pain's 'no touch' order ended, which means my jaw is going to be sore by the end of the night. My fingers roll through my hair, starting to lay it flat so I can tie it up for the day. It's the best course of action for the wound-tight members I'm sure are crawling around the hideout looking for me already.

As my hands are winding my hair into a ponytail, the door to Nagato's room slams open, pulling my head backward to see who it is. "Mutt," Konan fumes from the door frame, her eyes slit as she glares at me. What could I have possibly done to her already today? "Come here, you're going to be a useful heat-stricken bitch for once."

     Oh. I didn't see that coming but I guess even jealous women like her need to release once or twice a month.

     Konan storms into the room, her nightgown flowing as she stomps toward me. "I know that I'm off my ordered recovery time but can you wait a few minutes so I can get dressed?" I grumble, focusing on tying my hair up again.

     "No," she bitches, digging her fingers into my hair, grabbing a handful of it. "You're going to be an obedient dog and do what I want. Right now," she adds, using her grip on my locks to tug me out of my chair.

     "What the hell? Are you that desperate to get off? You can't even wait for me to pull on some clothes?" I hiss, stumbling over my feet as I'm dragged out of the room. My nails dig into her wrist, trying to unlatch her fist from my hair as I glare at her.

     "You're one to talk. Running around with Pain for weeks on end. Keeping him all to yourself so you can get off," Konan wails, knocking me around the hallway as she pulls me around.

     "Is that what this is about? You're throwing a little hissy fit over Pain choosing me over you again?" A yelp spills from me when I'm shoved into her room, the carpet sliding against my exposed skin, and threatening to leave rug burns.

     "Do you ever shut up? I doubt it. That's probably why the guys are always shoving their dicks down your throat," she insults, hand back in my hair to tug me further into her room.

     Again, I tug at her arms, trying to push her off of me. "Why are you always such a bitch, Konan?"

     The question gets me a slap and my head snaps backward. My cheek and scalp sting as I glare at her, the jealous girl glaring back at me. "Dumb bitches like you don't get to speak to me like that. Useless girls that are nothing but public cumdumps only get to do two things; serve and shut up." As Konan degrades me, I'm wrestling around under her. She's managed to push me on my stomach, my hands crossed behind my back.

     "Get off," I hiss, trying to buck her off my back.

     She lets out a low chuckle, leaning over to rummaging through her nightstand drawer. "You won't be useful if you keep squirming around," Konan bitches, snapping cold metal around my wrists. "The more you struggle the longer this is going to take, so be a good dog and comply, alright?"

     "Fine," I hiss, letting her roll me onto my back. "You're an asshole."

     "And you're a disgusting cum-rag," She spits back, slapping me again before climbing off of me.

Great now both my cheeks sting. I push a sigh out my nose, watching the paper-mâché lady dig through her drawer again and lay things on her bed. What could the crazy lady possibly have planned? I shift my position, trying to get comfortable with the handcuffs shoved into my spine by my body weight. As I move, a weird almost plastic sound fills the room instead of the expected metal clicking against metal.

My eyes flicker down, being met with padding edged with blue plastic. "What the fuck?"

She chuckles again, hand in my hair to situate me on my knees. "Last time you made a mess so I made sure to lay out a puppy pad this time," Konan shortly explains, sitting on the edge of her bed before she bends over.

Her fingertips slide through my pussy, pushing the lips open before positioning something against my clit. "What the hell have you planned?" I grumble, trying - and failing because of the hand in my hair - to squirm away.

Konan toys with the vibrator, turning it on low before she pulls away, letting my hair fall back into place. "Now, put that disgusting mouth to work," she orders, legs spreading as she sits upright, tugging her nightgown up. My head is pushed down, shoved into her pussy. "Go on, lick away, Mutt."

I grumble in protest but do as ordered, wanting this to end and to get away from Pain's biggest dick rider as soon as possible. My tongue slides up and down her panties, the slow vibrations of the toy rolling over my clit. It doesn't take long for my grumbles to shift into moans. "Damnit, Mutt," Konan mumbles, twirling my hair around her fingers before yanking my head away.

     She squirms, wiggling herself out of her panties before shoving them into my mouth. "Be a good dog and stay right here," Konan orders, bending down to turn my toy up. She sits back up, the hand in my hair falling to paw at my breast.

     My eyes trail after her free hand, watching her pat around her bed. The vibrations against my clit and - I hate to admit it - Konan's juices seeping into my taste buds are quickly pushing me to the edge, my moans muffled by the cloth shoved into my mouth.

     By the time her hand is pulled forward again, my orgasm snaps causing my cum to spill onto the puppy pad I've been stuck on. "Look at you. A desperate dog that can't help but make a mess. I guess it was a good thing I laid wet pads out," Konan taunts, the hand on my chest focused on twisting my nipple as the other one slowly inches a dildo until her pussy.

     My whines from the pain rippling from my nipple and the overstimulation are stifled, but her laughter at me isn't. Konan chuckles as I squirm, still slowly fucking the plastic dick in and out of her pussy. "Do you want to be a good dog? Be a good dog and suck," she orders, shifting around so she can situate the dildo under her.

     Konan's hips shift up and down, riding the toy as she tugs her panties out of my mouth, dropping them on the floor but not before wiping them across my face. "Slutty cum-rag, so fucking used that you can't help but cum. Imagine if your puppy pad wasn't under you. You would have ruined my carpets," she continues to degrade, hips moving faster as both her hands squeeze my breasts. "Be a good dog and lick," she orders, hands jumping up to push my head between her boobs.

     I nip at her, hoping that'll get her hands off me, but all it does is increase Konan's moaning. I let out a huff, giving in to what she wants again. My lips wrap around her nipple, sucking on it. My head bobs up and down as she bounces, threatening to make my neck hurt on my first use of the day.

     Konan's hands fall again, pinching and pulling on my nipples as she fucks herself. The stimulation to my boobs and the vibrator still buzzing pulls my cum out of me, my orgasm onto the dumb puppy pad again. "Fuck... fuck... Lord," she moans, dropping a hold on my titty to shove my head to her other breast before going back to toying with my chest.

     This time I almost eagerly take her tit into my mouth, using it to muffle my moans. "Damnit," she shrieks, nails digging into the flesh of my boobs, hips stalled, and head flipped backward. "Fuck," she huffs out, pushing me off of her.

     "Thank the Lord," I grumble, rolling my eyes at the drama queen. This is why Nagato isn't interested in her; because she's a demanding asshole.

     "I wouldn't be saying that," she mutters, pulling the dildo out of her pussy, her cum creaming and dripping down the toy. "You still need to clean my toys," Konan adds, standing up and taking a fist full of my hair again.

     "That seems like an issue for you to hand - "

     I'm cut off by the plastic dick being thrust down my throat, gags from the suddenness swirling out around it. "Sorry, I couldn't quite catch that," Konan taunts, thrusting the dildo in and out of my throat, not bothering to stop long enough for me to catch my breath.

     She laughs at me, enjoying the sight of her dildo in my mouth and her fingers tugging at my nipples again. "What a dumb dog," she mutters, tugging the toy out. My mouth isn't empty for long, the rouge tugging the vibrator away and snapping it off before she shoves it into my mouth too.

     Again, the toy is thrust past my lips, this time it's a lot easier to breathe. "Dumb bitch," Konan mumbles again, quickly losing her interest in me. "Get out of my face," she orders, popping the vibrator out of my mouth.

     "Why? Are you disgusted with yourself? Do you hate that you fuck with me just to feel an ounce of what it would be like to get banged by Pain?"

     As quick-tempered as ever, Konan smacks me across the face, the arousal that was present in her face now completely drowned out by anger. "You listen here you filthy mutt," she hisses, gripping my hair for the millionth time, using it to tug me closer to her face. "I would never want to be a used-up whore like you." Her voice is laced with venom, letting me know I won. That makes me quite smug.

     "Fine, since you want to be a cocky little shit, you can sit here in your mess handcuffed like the dumb object of the Akatsuki you are until I'm done showering," she hisses, dropping me back onto the puppy mat before she starts walking away. "If you even think about squirming out of my room, I'll tie you to the bed, lace my strap-on to you, and fuck myself using you the rest of the day. Am I understood?"

     "Yes," I grumble, lying myself down. I hate how jealous Konan can be and that she takes it out on me instead of Pain. It's not my fault he friend-zoned her.

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"Puppet, is that you?" Sasori's voice swirls around the hallway, making me stop my careful steps and lift my nose from the book it's been buried in.

"Yes, it's me," I call back, glancing around the hallway.

The door to his workshop is open, light spilling out from it. Sasori must be tinkering away. Or at least he was. His head pokes out through the doorway, his pink hair fanning out from his tiltedness. "Come here, Puppet. I need a break from my work and could use a release."

     "Coming!" I chirp, quickly walking down the hallway. When I slide into his workshop, Sasori is already back at his desk, his focus and hands busy tweaking his man puppet. "Hello."

     "Hello, Puppet. I want you here," he orders, shifting in his chair, his knees falling away from each other. "I do not need a lecture about Pain's orders either. I just want you sat here until I am finished," Sasori adds, glancing at me before his eyes lock on his project again.

     "Yes, Ori," I hum, setting my book on one of his counters before I head towards him. I duck under his arm, sliding into his lap like I was ordered. "What are you doing?"

     He sighs, a hand falling and being pressed against my stomach, forcing my hips backward. "I am working, unlike you. I will be shoving sandpaper down your throat if you don't start working."

     "Yes, Ori," I repeat, grilling the edge of his workbench as I start moving, grinding myself against him. When my stomach starts to stir with arousal, my hips pick up, humping Sasori's growing boner faster. "Sasori," I pant out, tilting my head backward to look at him.

     His eyes flicker between me and his puppet. A soft "hmph?" spilling from him. "You are the neediest puppet I own, do you know that?" I quickly nod my head, yes, pressing my hips against his harder. "What is it that you want?"

     "I want to blow you."

     "Do you?" He asks, a calloused hand resting under my chin, pushing my head back further. "Or do you want to be defiled?"

     "You can't," I whine, starting to rethink Nagato's ruling. I know I asked him to make the ruling, I know I didn't want to deal with being bruised and labored by the group but I don't think I'd mind now. I want to be touched, I want to cock-warm Sasori like I usually do while he works, I want his rough fingers touching me, I want his head between my thighs, I want -

     "You're right, I can't," he hums, nose nuzzling my neck for a second before his lips brush against my skin. "Pain's ruling says I can't fuck you. He never said anything about having objects fuck you."

     "What?" I babble, not able to click the pieces together because of the lustful fog brewing alongside my growing orgasm. "What?" I repeat louder this time, my head snapping up and my hips stopping once the piece does finally snap in place. A million - not the best - ideas run through my head. What the hell is Sasori going to shove inside me? One of his tools? A block of wood?

     His lips continue to trail up my neck, quickly crossing over to my jawline. "Calm down. It'll hurt you more if I play with you while you're tense," Ori mutters, his hands draping over my thighs, rubbing at my legs as he slowly walks the edge of my skirt up. "You will be fine," he continues to coo, his teeth nipping at my jawline.

     Sasori spreads my legs, fingers sliding through my folds a few times before settling on my clit. His rough fingertips swirl around, slowly starting to churn my stomach and giving me one of the things I want. "Let me play with you," he whispers in my ear, nibbling on my earlobe when he pulls away.

     "Please?"

     An approving sigh escapes him as he leans back, unenveloping me from his body. The hand not toying with me flicks to the side, chakra strings lashing out like fishing wire. "There is a clause to our little agreement though." Of course, there is. Sasori is soft with me, but he's never kind without getting a payout of his own. "I may not be able to use your pussy," he starts, his hand shifting, two fingertips dipping into me as his thumb takes over rubbing my clit. "But I can use your mouth. Besides, I believe you would look lavishing being filled on both ends."

     Sasori's monotoned compliment makes me tingle or maybe it's his fingers curling inside me or maybe it's the rough circles rolled over my clit. It is helped by the open-mouth kisses he keeps pressing into my throat and the soft sucking that promises to leave behind light bruises. "Alright, I think that is enough preparation," he mutters, his hands gripping my thighs to lift me, placing me on his workbench.

     Once I'm settled on all fours, he takes a second to situate his things, shifting them out from under me. As Sasori straightens things out, I look around his desk, my eyes snagging on the puppet still attached to his chakra strings.

     It's a thin unclothed puppet, reminding me of a twig. Unlike the rest of his puppets, this one has five limbs instead of four. At almost the end of the wooden doll's torso is a thick log, smooth and largely girthed. The wood looks almost shiny from the smoothness and sealing Ori used on it. The wood is also decorated with effortless curves; those ending when the top rounds off like a perfectly curved head of a penis.

     As I'm looking it over, it's shifted forward, Sasori flicking his hand forward to move the doll. "Do not look startled, you will tense yourself again," he orders, his free hand clinging to my chin again, shifting my head up. "Keep your eyes on me. It upsets me when you are unfocused."

     "Whatever you want, Ori," I mutter, locking my eyes on his. What an attention-hungry puppeteer. A string of approving hums come from him, his chakra string hand taking over holding my face, his fingertips - and the warm buzzing strands - rubbing my cheeks as he works his cock out of his pants.

     "Open," he orders, pressing on my cheeks so my mouth falls open. Once his tip is situated past my lips, he drops his hold on my face, hand flicking and poking the head of the wooden dick into me. "Watch your teeth."

     "Yes Ori," I mutter, the words getting jumbled as both dicks are slowly pushed into me. Sasori's dick inches its way down my throat as the puppet inches its way into me, the curves of the wooden cock rubbing me in ways I've never felt before.

     Another long hum spills from him when I'm bottomed in, his eyes just barely widening. Both his hands situated themselves on my cheeks, his free hand buzzing with the development of blue webs Ori is known for using. The threads spill out, wrapping around my throat and my face, buzzing with the soft warmth that sizzles off them.

     Steady soft breaths spill from him, his hands flexing against my cheeks, shifting everything into motion. My head bobs in time with Sasori's puppet, slow and steady like he wants to edge himself forward. Maybe he does. Slowly, my bobbing picks up, the puppeteer now thrusting his hips and shoving himself further down my throat.

     Accidentally my teeth graze him, my mouth not being able to keep up with the bobbing and thrusts forced on it. "Damnit," Sasori hisses, hand jerking and shoving the puppet into my pussy rougher. "I told you to watch your teeth," he adds, purposefully jerking the purposely this time, picking up the pace of it. "Can't you listen?"

     I babble out sorries, my words coming out as gargles because of the dick down my throat and the cock pounding into me. As my orgasm closes in, my eyes start to flutter shut, wanting to soak in the feeling of cumming. "You just can't listen," he lectures, tugging on the strands wrapped around my neck, shoving me further down his length. "Open your eyes. I want to see them."

     Slowly my eyes flutter back open, being met with the pinking of his cheeks. "Eyes open, no teeth, suck harder," he husks, quickly losing control of his breathing.

     The fear of losing my orgasm jumps me into obedience. I try widening my jaw to keep my teeth away, causing the bones to start to ache from being used. My tongue swirls around the underside of Sasori's dick, rolling over the thick vein as I suckle on him. I routinely blink, trying to keep my eyes open as my orgasm wobbles on the edge.

     When it tips over I can't hold back the moan that spills out, the sound humming into Ori's cock. "Damnit. Don't do that. Stop looking at me," he barks at me, teeth clenching as his chest pumps faster. "Close your eyes," he orders as the strings attached to the puppet snap off and let it fall limp onto the counter, leaving my pussy empty and leaking.

     Sasori's hand closes into a fist, snapping his threads as tight as they can go. The ones around my neck tug at my skin, cutting off my oxygen and starting to strangle me. The strings wrapped around my face shove me forward, my nose pressed against the wooden shell of Ori's body, and his dick dangling down my throat. "Damnit, damnit, damnit. You damn... Dear Lord... Puppet, open your eyes," he hisses, his cum starting to drip out, filling my stomach with its warmth and saltiness.

     I snap my eyes open, looking up at him as I slurp up every drop he has to offer me. Sasori is bright red, huffing for air, and clinging to my face, threatening to scratch my cheeks. "Off," he whispers after a moment, the remaining strands snapping off as he slowly pulls me off his dick.

     A pop fills his workroom when my lips finally detach from the tip of his cock, leaving another one of my holes empty. "My apologies," he starts like he does after every time he uses me. "I have made a mess of you." Also like always, he's right. My thighs are coated in my slick, as is his puppet, and my drool is dripping down my chin onto the countertop from sucking Ori off.

     "Let me clean you and then you shall sit with me as I work."

     "I should shower."

     "You will sit with me," he repeats, his tone snipped this time.

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I'm sat up pretty - I think - on the kitchen counter, just like Sasori ordered. Well, what he said was 'Be quiet and sit like the puppet you are' so that's what I'm doing. Acting like a pretty show marionette as he focuses on washing the oils off his hands.

     It doesn't take long for my back to hurt from sitting straight or for me to get bored of being an off-brand showgirl. "I want a snack," I mutter, jumping off the counter and heading toward the fridge.

     "Do as you wish. I have to meet with Deidara to discuss tomorrow's mission," Sasori mutters, drying his hands on a towel. A pat on my head and an uncertain kiss is pressed to my cheek before the half-man wanders out of the room, leaving me alone to figure out my snack.

     I mosey around the fridge, looking for something to damper my unnamed craving. Grapes? That doesn't sound good. Cheese squares? Sounds like a stomach ache. There are deli meats but a sandwich sounds too filling. My eyes skim the door, landing on the unopened can of whipped cream. That'll do I guess.

     The door swings close as I pull the tab off the can, shaking it as I turn to grab a spoon out of the silverware drawer. "Dear Lord!" I yelp, the sudden appearance of a certain high-energy orange mask-wearing rouge scaring the heebie-jeebies out of me. "Tobi!" I bark at him, glaring at the spooker as I sweep past him.

     "Dolly!" He cheers, falling into step so close behind me that he constantly bumps into me. When I stop to pull the drawer open, Tobi wraps his arms around my hips, tugging me against him. "It is early in the day."

     "It is," I agree, grabbing a spoon before pushing the drawer closed. "What does that have to do with anything?" I ask turning in his hold before I focus on my snack. I shake the can again and spray a bit of the sugary snack onto the spoon before I pop it in my mouth.

     "I'm off today and... and well... well I was just wondering... you know, since your no-touch order is over if you... if you would..." Tobi lets out a nervous lap, his mask repeatedly shifting from my face to looking between us.

     "If I would what?" I ask, filling the spoon again before popping it into my mouth. I tease the boy, shifting my hips forward to rub against him as I slowly pull the spoon out of my mouth, making sure it makes a slutty sound when it pops out. "What would you like us to do with your day off?" I push, filling the utensil once again, this time using kitty licks to clean it.

     "I... ah... you... that... my... my," he stumbles, pointing at the spoon before pointing down.

     "Alright," I purr, deciding to keep playing with Tobi since he won't use his words. I stick the spoon in my mouth, sliding my now free hand down his pants, toying with him through his boxers. Slowly my fingertips slide back up, wiggling under his boxers and pushing both layers of clothes down.

     When he pops out of his clothing, his dick is already rock-hard. Aw, the poor baby must have been thinking about this moment all morning. My eyes skirt up, watching the way his chest pumps, and his breath scatters as I rub my fingers along the underside of his dick. Dear Lord do I love toying with Tobi. He's always so fun to play with.

     As my fingers slide over his tip and start their descent over the topside of his dick, I slowly fall to my knees, keeping my sights on the peephole of his mask. The peephole has started to glow red like it does every time Tobi is turned on. "There you go," I chirp, leaving a line of whip cream on his dick.

     "What?" He wails, voice high-pitched and whiney.

     "You pointed at the whipped cream and then your dick so I figured this is what you wanted," I continue to play dumb, sliding my tongue out before spraying a swirl of the cream on my taste buds. I make a show of it, making a mess of it on my lips, and spilling out exaggerated moans.

"Why... why the hell would... would I mean that?" He whines, toying with the end of my ponytail.

"I don't know. Maybe if you used your words it would be easier for me to figure out what you want," I mutter, layering a swirl of cream over his dick.

"I want... can you... lick the... the... the cream off... off my... dick? Please?" Tobi stumbles out, his fingers flexing on repeat around my bundled-up locks.

I giggle at the soft boy, sliding my tongue out and slowly lowering my head. My movements stay slow as I wrap my tongue around his tip, enjoying the sweet taste of the whipped cream and the salty taste of his pre-cum. My tongue flats out, rolling its way over his cock, licking up the trail I left on him.

     Once he's licked clean I pull back, flickering my eyes up at him. "There you go."

     "Dolly," he whimpers, gently tugging on my ponytail.

     "Tobs," I call, mimicking his cute whimpers.

     "You're teasing. Stop teasing. You're so mean," he babbles, his tugs getting a little rougher.

     "I'm just doing what you ask," I hum, decorating his dick with twisted lines of whip cream again before setting the can down. "Let me do it again for you."

     My head dips again, another painfully slow lapping of my treat. More whines and babbles fall from the man, his dick already twitching with the warning of his approaching orgasm. "Dolly, please."

     "Please what, Tobs?" I mutter, twirling my tongue around his cock to help clean off the sticky residue starting to form.

     "Suck my dick," he breaths out, so quiet I almost can't hear him over the mixture of pants and moans.

     My tongue slithers over the slit of his dick, making it tremble even more. "Sorry, Tobi, I couldn't quite hear you. Could you repeat yourself?"

     "Suck my dick. Please suck my dick, Dolly. Pretty please? Dolly? Dolly, please?" I giggle at him again, my tongue sliding out, pressing against his pulsing vein as I take him into my mouth. As soon as there's enough of him in my mouth I start sucking on him, puffing my cheeks out so he can slide in easier.

     I'm not even halfway down before Tobi lets out a long chipped moan, his sperm coating my tongue before it slides down my throat. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Dolly, I'm sorry," he babbles, twirling strands of my hair around his fingertips.

     I hum softly, slowly sliding further down so I can suck the sticky leftovers of the whipped cream off of him. "Hey, hey, hey," he rattles, tugging on my hair before smoothing it out and twirling it again. "I'm sensitive. Be nice."

     I suck on him hard, the suction pulling on him as I tug myself backward. The poor baby isn't going to be able to stand any more than that so hopefully it's good enough to clean him off. "You did such a good job," I coo, kissing his angrily-red tip before crawling to my feet. "You should probably take a shower to get the rest of the residue off," I tell him, gliding my fingertips over his angry cock.

     "With... with me?" He wheezes out between deep breaths, his hands clinging to my shirt. "Take... take shower... with me?"

     "What about your mask, Tobs?" I ask, deciding to leave the overstimulated boy's dick alone, my fingertips ghosting over the edge of his mask.

     "The... the lights... off. That... that'll... good enough."

     "Okay, Tobs," I chuckle, letting the eager boy pull me forward.

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[courtingchaos]

(Joke) Dot in Fargo gets a neighbor who gives her casseroles and wants to help her :)

But actually I love the idea of reader and Steve making hot chocolate and trying to have a nice chill moment together before the kids inevitably crash it

Steve Harrington x Fem Reader

(This took so long my god I have the memory of a gnat, forgive me)

“Did you know-”

“Probably not.”

“Hush up.” You smile down at the pot you’re stirring while giving Steve a side eye. “Did you know there’s two types of cocoa powder?”

“Nope.”

You can hear the smile in his voice without having to look over. “Natural cocoa powder is more acidic, but Dutch process is lower so it has a better chocolate flavor because the cocoa butter helps carry it.”

“And why’s that?” He tries to sneak his finger into the thickening mixture in the pot but you tap the back of his hand with a clean spoon.

“Because fat carries flavor.”

“Is that why you cook with so much butter?”

“Yeah.” Taking that same spoon you dip it into the hot chocolate and blow on it for a moment before holding it out for him to try. “But also because butter just tastes good.”

He hums at the small taste and in agreement with you, gently tapping his stomach before pushing off the counter. “I know, anymore butter dishes and I’m gonna have to buy new jeans.”

“Oh no, are they getting too tight?” You couldn’t sound any less bothered, eyes rolled down at the stove with a giggle and the image of his Levis being tighter than they already were. “That would be such a shame.”

He’s in your ear suddenly, hands on your hips and lips pressed to your lobe. “You’d really hate that wouldn’t you?” A small nibble before he hooks his chin on your shoulder to watch you work.

“It’d be the worst thing to happen. What if you had to, gasp, go pants-less?” You turn your cheek into his face when he leans in to start his kiss assault that distracts you from the slow simmering pot in front of you. Wide hands turn you around and slide you away from the cooktop, slippers catching on the edge of the rug while Steve kisses under your jaw and up your cheek, fingertips grazing just under the edge of your sweater. It only heats up as much as your pot does, a buzz of a simmer when his lips find yours and you kind of forget what you’re doing in the kitchen for a moment. The smells of chocolate and cinnamon and sugar lost when he invades your senses for a while with warm hands and kisses pressed in with a smile. Steve sneaks another finger into the pot and he tastes like the good cocoa powder, a taste that you want to chase for a few more minutes.

A doorbell is a distant nuisance that you barely register until it repeats fast and loud, accompanied by the shouts of a gaggle of teens left in the cold. You break the kiss first, reluctant but with a small bite of a later promise. “The minions are here.”

Steve’s head drops onto your shoulder and he groans on a long exhale. You push the hot chocolate off the burner so it wont burn and you run a reassuring hand up the back of his neck, fingers dipping into his hair for a quick scratch. The banging at the door is almost enough that you worry they might just break the lock to get in. “You might want to let them in before they take the hinges off.” You smile at him before he leaves the kitchen, a silent ‘later’ mouthed at him before he lets the flurry in.