#thar be smut here

[idunnoficsorsumthing]

Dinner secrecy

Warnings: Smut therefore 18+ readers only. 

Summary: Harvey holds a dinner at his house.

You looked over to where Jessica, Louis and Harvey were talking in Jessica’s office. You mewled at the fact that they were in a meeting leaving out the younger associates out of their chit chat meetings. You were sitting in your cubicle that had the perfect view of  Jessica’s office. You quickly turn your gaze from the meeting to your computer when you see Harvey turn his chair to look back at you. You looked up again when you felt like his gaze was no longer on you. Harvey had been a little flirtatious with you from the start of your time at Pearson Hardman, it was only a matter of time before you fell for him. It didn’t take much, he was handsome, funny when he wanted to be and oh so good in bed. The two of you had been dating for a while now. It was strictly a secret, no one knew, no one was allowed to get suspicious. Something the both of you agreed on. You were Jessica’s associate, you were at her beck and call. No way she would take it well for you to be screwing one of the senior partners. You heard the voices of the partners talking as the glass door opened and the men walked out. You try to keep your eyes solely focused on your computer screen. You feel a man towering over your cubicle. “I am holding an unexpected dinner tonight for some people here at the firm.” Harvey said, you looked up. “Who?” you asked. He was leaning against the side of your cubicle. “Senior partners, their associates, and  very pretty paralegals.” he said, you would get angry at him for calling Rachel pretty if it wasn’t thar she and Mike were eye fucking each other every ten minutes. “I want you to be at my place by five” he said, you nod. “Early dinner". you huffed. “Dinner is at seven. I’m going to need an extra set of hands, sweetheart.” he said, walking off. 

You gave Jessica some weak excuse why you needed to leave earlier, and she told you to make sure you would be there at Harvey’s dinner, considering it was basically a late planned work function. You joked you would only show up if you could bill the hours and then you got a glare as you were walking out. You were unwrinkling your skirt as you made it up the last few steps till the elevator of Harvey’s building. His doorman is already familiar with you, letting you up. You contemplated bringing a bottle of wine. However, you know that whatever you would be able to afford wasn’t to Harvey’s liking anyway so you decided against that. You waited impatiently for the elevator to reach his floor. The ride up seems slower than normally. However, normally you were impatiently tapping your feet a little to get to him or you would be with Harvey himself as he had his lips against yours or peppering kisses along your neck. You finally reach his door and you open it with the spare key he gave you weeks ago. “Thank god, you are here.” He said he was wearing an apron and standing over a cutting board. You stood beside him looking over the recipe pages and seeing him cutting vegetables. “Why didn’t you hire a private chef?” you asked. He groaned. “Louis,” he huffed. You had only seen Harvey use his kitchen once when he was making soup for you after an especially wild night the two of you had and walking had seemed a bit of a struggle. “He bet me money that I could not do it without a private chef.” he said, you take the recipe cards he printed and look over the recipes. “ Smoked Salmon Crawfish and dill mousse? Pan fried duck breast with spiced orange and cranberry?” You asked, puzzling yourself over the instructions. “What? I thought you said you knew how to cook.” he said, putting down the kitchen knife, and focusing his body towards yours, he slithered his arm around your waist. “Yes, like some kind of mom, not fucking Gordon Ramsay.” You hissed. He chuckled. Pressing his lips to your jawline pecking soft kisses as to convince you why you should help him. “You’ll get extremely lucky tonight if you pull it off.” he said, you knew when it was time to push your luck when he wanted something from you, usually what he wanted from you was sex. You looked into his dark brown eyes, as he gave you the eyes he gave girls when he wanted to smooth talk them, his thumb rubbed circles over your skin as he was holding you, pressing his pelvis against your side. “I want a drawer.” You said, he raised his eyebrow. You had a spare toothbrush next to his already. But, he had yet to give you space in his big bachelor pad for you. “That’s it?” he asked. You nod. “Then we have an agreement.” he said, he sealed the deal with a kiss on your lips. “You are a terrible negotiator, sweetheart.” He said: “I would’ve given you half my closet.” he taps your ass as he walks over to the fridge. 

It was less than half an hour till everyone would show up for dinner. You were busy with the duck as you made Harvey focus on setting the table. In the fridge were enough starters that he just had to plate out, in the oven the vegetables and potatoes were baking, and the duck was almost cooked medium rare. Otherwise it would taste like shoe leather. You could feel Harvey’s big arms around your waist. “I can’t wait for dessert.” he said, you looked confused. You had made creme brulees that were now cooling on the counter, and only needed to be popped into the oven real quick right before dessert. “I didn’t know you liked creme brulee so much.” you said, as you moisten the duck with moisture from the pan. “I meant you.” he said, as he started to lightly suck on your neck. “Anybody can arrive any moment.” you mumbled. You didn’t stop his advances, instead you turned off the fire on the stove. He allowed you space to turn around. You wrap your arms around his neck. He had loosened his tie earlier, and rolled up his sleeves when he was helping you around in the kitchen. “You want to taste?” you asked, you leaned back and dipped your finger on the spoon that had been used to stir the duck. You held up the finger to his mouth as he lightly sucked off the sauce. “You’ve been holding out on me.” he teased. A smile appeared on your face. You could’ve stayed here for a while if you could but the doorbell rang, and Harvey signed before walking to the door as you switched your place to sitting at the bar, taking your wine glass in hand. 

You sat across from Harvey, you had been playing footsie with him for the past twenty minutes. Louis shoved the betting money across the table for Harvey, and now it was still sitting there in the middle. Everyone was chattering away, when Jessica sat down from going to the bathroom. “Do you have a new girlfriend, Specter?” She asked. You quickly take your foot away from his lap. You took your wine glass and took a gulp. “I don’t know what makes you think that.” He said, swirling his scotch. A lot of faces turned to Jessica and Harvey. A smile appeared on her face. “The pink bottles of shampoo and conditioner on the side of your shower.” She said: “The second toothbrush.” Harvey rolled his eyes. He usually never did. However, Jessica brought it out in him as he used to say. “They are Mike’s.” he said dead serious. “Sometimes I even let him sleep at my foot.” Mike was the only one that didn’t laugh when the laughter filled the room. “Fine. Don't tell me.” Jessica said, though she had the look on her face that said she’d figure it out. 

You left Harvey’s place around the time Rachel left together the two of you went with the subway home. You finally reach your place when you get a text. 

[Harvey] Come back

[Y/n] Are Louis and Mike still there?

[Harvey] I’ll get rid of them

[Y/n] I’ll think I will just go to sleep

[Harvey] No

[Y/n] i’m tired

[Harvey] I need to see you

[y/n] you saw me thirty minutes ago

[Harvey] Don’t make me come to Brooklyn Heights

[Y/n] I don’t live in Brooklyn Heights

[Y/n] Must’ve been your other girlfriend

[Harvey] ha ha just get your cute ass here

There was still hesitation to go back to Harvey’s considering you just spent almost half an hour getting home. It would be half an hour back as well. In downtown Brooklyn almost everything that had something to do with Pearson Hardman took a while. You pictured what would happen if you’d go to his right now. But, as you were considering the pros and cons you already started to pack a clean outfit for tomorrow morning to take with you. 

When you got back to Harvey’s apartment he was loading up his dishwasher.”Well look at you cleaning, and cooking.” you said, as you threw your weekend bag to the ground. “I knew you’d come back.” he said, you signed. You sit down at the barstool at his kitchen counter. “You look hot doing manual labor, you know.” you said, he chuckled. “This is hardly manual labor.” he said, you shrugged. “For you it seems it is.” you teased. He gave you the glare that said he was going to make you pay for that comment later. 

He had been making you pay for that comment earlier, with your hands tied up to the bedpost with one of his expensive ties. He had made you cum at least two times already ordering you to orgasm on his fingers. He was motioning his hips in and out of you as you pulled at the tie rope, wanting him to continue to fuck you even if everything felt overly sensitive and borderline painful as you kept moaning his name. “I told you that you’d get lucky tonight.” He said, slowing his pace a little to allow you to catch your breath. You were a mumbling mess just a string of incoherent words flowed from yours lips. Once Harvey mentioned he might love you most like this. He teased you by taking your breast into his hand, allowing his tongue to create circles over your nipple causing you to gasp. You couldn’t keep your eyes open as the pleasure kept building within. “Eyes on me, sweetheart” he said, taking your chin in one hand making you open your eyes, and look at him as he picked up a harder pace. All you wanted to do was touch his skin, and have something to hold on when it got too much. You pushed yourself to him, and kissed his lips, intensifying the experience. You begged him to make you cum, and the hand went from your chin to your clit as he motioned a pattern. You cried out his name as you felt pleasure come over you. He continued to chase his own high, as he hid his face in your neck, until he stiffened in his own pleasure. It took the two of you a moment to catch your breath, he got up and put on his underwear. He took his phone from his nightstand, you look at him wondering if he forgot. “Hey, can you untie me?” you asked him. He looked at you letting his eyes gaze top to bottom. “No, you look sexy like this.” he said, in return he got a glare coming from you. He decided to untie you, he looked you deep in the eye. “There is space in the closet for you.” He said: “next time, bargain your worth.” he pecked a kiss on your lips.

[firstfirerebel]

𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖑

Sumary: Prt. 4 of yandere! Adult! Tom Riddle x fem! Reader

Warnings: dark content, cursing, hate, jealousy, heavily implied smut so Minors DNI!

To say Bellatrix hated you, would be like a joke compared to the utter despise she felt towards you. That woman hated your existence. Since she kidnapped you and brought to her master, he completely ignored her! He only had eyes for you. Even if you slept he adored everything about you. Not one assignment could be done without him getting annoyed, because he was away from you. Yeah, he was annoyed by her before you came here, but now she at least had someone to blame for it (someone else then her).

And yes, she was married, but it wasn't a marriage out of love. She only married Rodolphus to keep the family pure. There was no love, at least from her.

Some would say, Bellatrix was in love with Voldemort, other say she was obssessed. Whatever it was, it was hell for people who got in her way. She wasn't a weak witch and definitely not harmless. Everyone who stood in her way was now dead or has lost their sanity. But you were under the protection of Voldemort himself and she knew, if you only had a scratch, he'd torture the person to insanity and later kill them. She wasn't scared to die, she was scared that he could hate her.

If he loved you, he could feel and that was enough for her to set the goal to get him to at least feel positive about her. He appreciared her, cause she was his student and a loyal death eater, but that wasn't enough for her.

Did she love him? She couldn't tell herself.

A relationship wasn't what she wanted, that wouldn't fit the dark lord. So why were you here? Why did he suddenly love someone? Have a 'relationship'?! Did you do something to him?! Cause this wasn't a behavior she knew from Voldemort.

And then you had the audacity to call him 'Tom', he was the dark lord! Lord Voldemort! And you dared to call him by some name?

(Important: Dumbledore always called Voldemort 'Tom' to show that he wasn't afraid of him, that's also why reader here calls him Tom and not Voldemort. She tries to prove him that she isn't scared and she knows his backstory > a thing Tom/Voldemort hates and wants to erase)

Why didn't she see that all you wanted was to be free? You never wanted to be here in the first place! Tom constantly ignored that you didn't want physical contact with him. He ignored your own ideals and refused to see them as valid. If you denied him something he got furious.

In short, you were forced into a 'relationship' thar was toxic and abusive. Your powers weren't equal. You felt and were more like his personal pet than his 'girlfriend'. He didn't lay a harming hand on you, but that still didn't mean he couldn't lose control. He was mad after all and mental abuse was still abuse.

He said it was just a dream, but it felt so real. The wind, the fresh air, you just wanted to feel it again. But the doors that lead outside were locked with a difficult spell you couldn't even unlock if you had your wand. And the windows were too high to jump down, the others were locked as well.

Like a bird in a cage. A hamster in an enclosure. A dog in a kennel.

In short hell.

But all of that could be ok, if your so called 'boyfriend' didn't force himself onto you. He didn't harm you physically, but you weren't dumb.

His gasps behind you, when you brushed your hair or read a book at a window, increased and then he ran away into his 'office'. You could only guess what he was doing there, but it wasn't something for minors...

Tom took many potions that calmed him down, down there and his mind. He fought the urge to throw himself at you, so you wouldn't hate him and he could somehow make you love him. But the things he wanted to do to you...

It drove him crazy to resist you.

Your hair, your scent, your eyes, your body, everything drove him mad.

He couldn't even watch you reading a book in the sunset, cause his body reacted to his 18+ needs immediately. The potions became like water. Not thinking about it, just drink and relax.

But if only it would be this easy...

Slowly the poitons started to help less. He'd find himself only relieved for a short amount of time.

Snape made higher doses but it didn't help. As if his body started to become immune to this liquid.

It was only a temporary solution.

In his dreams he at least had some time off, right?! Nope...

The deep thoughts and desires he had controlled his dream, so waking up in the middle of the night with a boner wasn't exactly rare.

It felt like he was in a doom loop.

Trying to ignore his needs > drinking the poiton > ignoring his desires > drinking more of the potions.

If Snape would take money for his potions for Tom he'd be richer than the Malfoys by now.

The question was, how much longer could Tom go through this?

How much time did he have till the beast inside him couldn't be tamed anymore...?

[queenshelby]

The Price for Fame (Part Two)

Pairing: Dark!Cillian Murphy x Innocent!Reader

Warning: Manipulation, Infidelity, Smut, Dub-Con, Age-Gap, Cillian is being a bully in this one. It's pure filth.

Three days later, on set, with tension running high, you found yourself back in Cillian's trailer again for another meeting. 

You had screwed up a few scenes, unable to concentrate on your performance due to the mental anguish from the arrangement you had in place with Cillian despite the fact thar you were engaged to a good catholic man.

"I am sorry, I am just having troubles focusing," you told him as soon as you sat foot in his trailer, looking at Cillian with a mixture of shame and frustration in your eyes. You knew that he was upset and that you were in for a lecture after the director had complained about your performance once again. 

"Close the door behind you," was all he said before leaning back in his chair a

You did as you were told and took a seat opposite him, your hands splayed nervously on your lap. 

"It's not like me to mess up my lines like this, honestly, it's just ... I don't know," you began, trying to explain your uncharacteristic lack of focus.

"Like I said, we need to address this urgently. I can't afford to not deliver on this movie, and you really need to pull yourself together Y/N,"  Cillian lectured, his eyes burning holes into you as if trying to force his indignation into your soul.

While part of you wanted to argue, to defend yourself, another part of you just shyly nodded, shrinking beneath his disapproving gaze.

"Yes, I'm really sorry, I just... I don't know. I can't seem to shake this lately," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper.

Cillian rolled his eyes impatiently.

"Listen, Y/N, I have half a mind to re-cast your role. I can't have you so unfocused and distracted when we're shooting such crucial scenes."

You looked at him, eyes wide with shock. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. You had dedicated so much time and energy to this role. You had even slept with him twice and now he was threatening to take it all away from you? The thought of losing your part in this film brought you to the brink of tears.

"Please, Cillian," you pleaded, your voice trembling with emotion. "I swear I'll do better. I just need some time to get myself back together."

Cillian leaned forward, his eyes locked on yours. "You have one week," he said, his tone stern. "One week to prove that you can focus and deliver a decent performance, or I'm replacing you."

You nodded frantically, feeling a mix of relief and desperation wash over you. You would do anything to keep your role in this film, even if it meant fighting through your personal struggles.

"Thank you Cillian ," you whispered, your shoulders slumping in exhaustion before you got up from your seat, causing him to shake his head.

"Don't leave just yet Y/N," he spoke gruffly, his tone dripping with need. You looked at him questioningly, your mind still spinning with the impending deadline.

"Come here and show me how thankful you are for this chance," Cillian demanded while suggestively unbuckling his belt.

"Please, Cillian. My fiancé is coming to visit me tonight. I can't do this," you pleaded with him, your desperation turning to panic.

Cillian chuckled before standing up from his seat and stalking towards you.

You backed away, your heart pounding in your chest as Cillian approached. But there was nowhere for you to go in the small trailer. He quickly closed the gap between you, pinning you against the wall.

"Do you want to keep your role in this movie?" he hissed in your ear, his warm breath causing you to shudder.

"Yes, yes, I do!" you stammered just before Cillian unzipped his jeans and freed his lengthy cock.

"Then prove it," he said, prompting you and, with your hands still shaking, you tentatively wrapped your fingers around his semi-hard shaft. 

Cillian's hands roamed your body, gently but forcefully, leaving no doubt that this was a sexually charged encounter. His large hands gripped your waist as he directed your own hand, guiding you to stroke his cock rhythmically.

You could feel his cock growing harder and thicker with every pump of your delicate hand.

"Good girl. Now get down on your knees," Cillian ordered you and you complied, hesitantly kneeling before him. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and your mind was racing with a mix of fear and guilt.

Feeling nauseous, you took a deep breath and stared at Cillian's cock which was already fully erect, dripping with pre-cum.

"Open your mouth, and stick out your tongue," Cillian demanded, his voice commanding and unyielding.

Reluctantly, you obeyed and stuck out your tongue, completely humiliated and submissive. Cillian smeared his pre-cum on your tongue with his finger, making you shudder with disgust.

"Hmm , good girl," he said, before he pushed his cock into your mouth, filling your mouth and throat, causing you to gag instantly. You tried to pull away, but Cillian gripped your hair tightly, preventing any escape.

"No, no, no. You're going to make me cum with that pretty little mouth of yours. Keep sucking it like a good little girl," Cillian moaned as he pushed himself deeper into your throat. The feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat and the taste of his pre-cum was nauseating and arousing at the same time while Cillian's grip on your hair kept you from pulling away.

Tears streamed down your cheeks and trickled down your neck as you tried to take slow, shallow breaths. You could feel yourself starting to gag on his cock, but Cillian's hold on your hair tightened, and he kept pushing further down your throat.

"That's it. Keep sucking. That's it. Swallow it all, baby," he whispered lewdly as he grabbed your head, pulling you down onto his cock more roughly.

You gagged again, your throat constricting around his thick shaft. Cillian, sensing your discomfort, slowed down, pumping in and out of your mouth more leisurely, giving you time to adjust.

As he continued, his movements became faster, his guts churning in anticipation of orgasm. 

" Fuck, you're getting better at this," he grunted, his tone strained with pleasure. You could feel his balls tighten, signalling that he was close to releasing.

"You are going to swallow every drop of my cum, aren't you Y/N?" Cillian asked, clearly enjoying the dominance he was exerting on you and the thought of swallowing his seed made you feel sick.  But you knew it was the price you had to pay if you wanted to keep your job so you nodded, meekly and obediently.

"Good girl," Cillian cooed as he began to thrust his hips more frantically, pumping in and out of your mouth. Before long, he let out a deep groan, his cock pulsing as he erupted inside of your mouth.

You could taste his bitter semen on your tongue, feeling it slide down your throat. You tried to swallow it as quickly as possible, not wanting to linger on the taste and texture.

Cillian finally pulled out of your mouth, a sated grin on his face. He tucked himself back into his jeans and zipped them up before sitting back down in his chair. "That was good," he said simply, leaving you kneeling on his floor with tears streaming down your face. "You can get up now," he added, not even bothering to apologize for what he had just done.

You slowly got to your feet, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. The taste  of Cillian's semen was still lingering on your tongue, making you feel even more disgusted with yourself.

"I need to go," you murmured quietly, your voice hoarse from the recent forced oral.

Cillian just nodded, a smug grin on his face. "Sure thing, but I want to see you again tonight, just before you see your fiancé," he said, not even bothering to look at you as you made your way to the door.

You couldn't help but feel a mix of shame and anger as you stepped out of his trailer, the door slamming shut behind you.

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[buckymorelikefuckme]

a pirate's life for me

pirate king wanda x fem reader

words: 2k

warnings: **18+ ONLY** thar be smut ahead!!!!! boot worship/riding, masturbation, mentions of flushed cheeks. if i missed anything pls let me know!

a/n: i'm on a roll today waow... this is NOT proofread btw but i hope you like it!! any and all mistakes are mine. feedback is encouraged & welcomed :) xoxo

part 1 ❀ part 3 ❀ part 4

Life aboard the Scarlet Pearl was unlike anything you imagined. You'd heard all the stories of the crew and their captain, of how they were ruthless and fearsome, in strength as well as in numbers. Yet, for as cunning as they were said to be, they were just as commendable.

Pirate King Maximoff and their crew were said to ravage their way through the richest cities and take as much as possible. The government did everything in their power to stop them, but the pirates were always five steps ahead. On top of that, weeks later after the pillaging, the lower class people were suddenly able to afford better meals, to keep the fires in their hearths going all night. They could finally afford to live comfortably.

There was no way for the government to question it without looking greedy or heartless, so to save the shame of having someone else take better care of their people, they kept quiet. They'd soon find that people who lived in better conditions were happier to do labor.

You'd admired Pirate King Wanda ever since.

Growing up with a silver spoon in your mouth made it so you never even had a moment to question where your next meal would come from, or if you'd freeze to death during winter. When you were young, you'd never thought to question it. As you grew older, however, it became more and more obvious to you that something was not right.

On the nights you'd sneak out of the Manor, dressed in one of your lady’s maids' old dresses and worn out boots, you'd head down to the pub and eavesdrop on the stories people would tell. It didn't take long to learn of the famous Pirate King, even less time to learn of how desperately the townspeople longed for them to show up here. You had no one to tell, but you wished the same.

So, the fateful night they finally arrived, you knew you had to join their crew and set sail with them. You couldn't bear another minute of being around people who looked down their nose at others who had less than they did.

Which leads you to the present, elbows resting on the ledge of the ship, reminiscing on the months that have passed since you arrived.

You'd been utterly shocked and embarrassed to find out the very pirate you so brazenly spoke to in the Manor was the Pirate King Maximoff herself. She'd had a good laugh about it, but ultimately didn't hold it against you. She didn't want anyone to know she was a woman, anyway. As much as it annoyed her to admit, people were more likely to be afraid of her if they thought she was a man. She always made sure those people regretted that, though.

The setting sun kisses your cheeks as you breathe in the salty air of the surrounding sea. You've worked hard to prove your worth, and you have the callouses to show for it. The crew were rightfully wary of you at first, but thankfully, it wasn't long before they welcomed you with open arms.

Pirate King Maximoff, while never rude or hateful, still kept somewhat of a distance from you, always watching you work from her place at the helm. Her chief mate, Natasha, is never far, ready and waiting for new orders to pass along. She was the hardest to crack, but you'd recently had a breakthrough that left you smiling in your bunk later that night.

The wind whips through your hair and you sigh. You couldn't imagine yourself anywhere else now.

“Shouldn't you be getting some grub with the rest of the crew?”

You spin around quickly, startled at her voice. Captain Maximoff stands a few feet away, her eyes calculating as they usually are. Her tan skin glows in the sunlight and you're reminded, once again, of how utterly… handsome she is.

“Captain,” you acknowledge with a tip of your head. “I… I just wanted to have a moment to myself first.”

“I see,” she replies, “then don't let me keep you.”

“No!”

She stops, turning to you with an eyebrow cocked. You hope the flush along your cheeks can pass as being under the sun for too long.

“I mean, um. You don't have to leave.”

She tilts her head, quiet for a moment as she reads your expression. She's very good at it. You'd learned that quickly.

Whatever she finds must be enough to convince her to stay, because a few seconds later she takes the spot beside you, clasping her hands behind her back as she stares into the water.

“Do you do this often?” she asks curiously.

You tear your eyes away from her profile and back to the horizon. “Sometimes,” you confess.

“What for?” she prods.

“I’m not entirely sure,” you say. “I guess to remind myself how small I am, how minuscule my existence is in this vast world. That what I’m doing and have done is right and for the betterment of others more important than I.”

The captain doesn't immediately reply, contemplating your words. When she does speak, it's quiet.

“You are important, though. You are not minuscule. What you have done is important, I cannot deny that, but you must know it is for your betterment as well.”

You turn your gaze to her, frowning. You find her already looking at you and her stare is hard, willing you to believe what she is saying.

“I would not have agreed to let you on my ship if I thought you were not a good person. You've more than paid your dues. I will not hear another self-deprecating word from you.”

You swallow past the lump in your throat. “Thank you, Captain.”

Her eyes flit back and forth between yours. Without a word, she grabs your wrist and begins walking away, leaving you no choice but to follow. You're smart enough not to question her.

She takes you to her quarters, and when she shuts the door behind you, the locking clicking into place with finality, your heart begins to race. She walks around you until she stands in front of you. You try to hold her stare, but soon find your eyes dropping to the hollow point of her neck.

You've longed to touch her golden skin for ages now, knowing you shouldn't, but unable to fight the desire. There have been times, fleeting moments, where you thought your Pirate King felt the same, thought you’d caught her looking at you with hunger rather than inquisitiveness. Like the way she's looking at you now.

Feeling bold, you raise your shaky hands to trace the exposed skin along her open collar.

“If you still feel you have debts to be repaid,” she starts, her hands coming up to your hips, “you may repay them directly to me.”

You finally meet her eyes again. Now, you wonder how you could have missed the yearning, the equal desire burning there. You grip her collar in your fists and pull her into a kiss. Like a dam being broken, the Captain presses closer into your body, now cupping your cheeks as she deepens the kiss, flicking her tongue along your bottom lip. You open for her with a gasp, groaning when she licks the roof of your mouth. Your head is spinning, eagerness turning the kiss sloppy, yet no less heated.

She begins moving backwards, tugging you with her as her lips trail down your neck, licking and sucking marks into the skin there that have you whining and begging for more. The back of her knees hit the edge of her bed and she falls easily onto it, taking you with her. She's got you on her lap, hands bunching up the skirts of your dress around your hips.

“I thought you were crazy for refusing to wear trousers on deck, but I must confess it's much better access this way,” she teases.

You smile, cheeks pinking. “I'd hoped you'd find me prettier than the others,” you admit.

“Trust me, from the moment I saw you, you were the most beautiful creature I'd ever had the pleasure of seeing.”

You have to kiss her again for that, tongue sliding against hers in a way that has you shivering and throbbing for more. You pull away, shifting back until you can kneel on the floor in front of her, holding her heavy-lidded stare.

“May I try something I've thought about, night after night since joining your crew?” you ask.

She nods with an interested quirk to her brows. You pull one of her legs forward so her boot is easier to get to. Biting your lip, you lift your skirts and yourself, shuffling forward and hovering for just a moment. When you lower yourself to sit atop her well-worn leather boot, it's still warm from the summer sun.

You see when it registers with her, what you're doing. Miraculously, the unflappable Pirate King’s cheeks begin flushing as you slowly grind your wet core on her boot.

“Christ,” she whispers.

You moan, clutching her thigh, your hips rolling your clit into the firm pressure of the leather. It feels far better than you expected. You rest your cheek on her knee, panting hotly against her trousers as you continue riding her boot. Movement out of the corner of your eye catches your attention. You moan when you realize she's unbuttoned her trousers and stuff her hand down them. You can see the way she's circling her fingers and it makes you grind faster.

She moans above you and your eyes snap to hers. She pushes your hair out of your face, tugging on your bottom lip. You suck her thumb into your mouth and she curses, eyes going glassy as her concentration splits between rubbing her own clit, watching your lips around her thumb, and the way your hips roll sinfully.

“You're either an angel or the devil,” she decides.

You pull off her thumb to mutter, “I'm whoever you want me to be,” then suck it right back into your mouth.

“What if I said I wanted you to be mine?” she whispers.

You whimper, squeezing your eyes shut before opening them, sending her a pleading look as your hips pick up pace. Your pussy glides across her boot smoothly now, your wetness doing more than enough to help you along.

“Yeah? Wanna be the Pirate King’s kept woman? Want the rest of the crew to know you belong to me? I think you'd look even more stunning with my marks upon your beautiful neck.”

You can only nod, muffled moans slipping past her thumb in your mouth. Her hand quickens in her trousers and you stare, transfixed, your orgasm so close you can taste it.

“Come, my love. Come for me,” she pleads.

Your eyes roll back, the endearment going straight to your core. You grind harder, faster, until finally the building pleasure crests and swells and overwhelms you, coursing through your veins like wildfire. You moan and whimper, twitching as you ride out the high.

“You too,” you beg, breathless, pawing at her trousers until you can get your hand next to hers.

She cries out, then grits her teeth as your fingers help her reach climax. She throws her head back, mouth falling open on a silent moan as she comes, hips bucking into your hand.

“So beautiful, so handsome,” you praise and she groans, yanking your hand out of her trousers and tugging you back into her lap.

She kisses you fiercely, passion coating every second as the two of you come down. When you've both caught your breath, she kisses the tip of your nose, tipping both of you over to lie fully on the bed. She wipes her hand on her already soiled trousers, but you bite your lip, hesitating. Meeting her eyes once again, you lift your fingers, wet with her desire, to your mouth.

“A demon is what you are,” she accuses as you lick your fingers clean.

You smile. “You can't return me now. You're stuck with me, I'm afraid.”

She sighs dramatically. “Whatever shall I do with you?”

“I may have a few ideas, my Captain,” you tease.

She pushes you onto your back, kissing away your giggles until they turn into gasping moans.

(The crew hoot and holler when they see you next, your neck littered with bites, and a proud Pirate King smirking at your side.)

[michaelsfavgirl]

Where. The fuck. Is y'all finding the fans who are anti Michael thirsting? Because all I find is fans who say the most flabbergasting, wig snatching, smut writing, that put sex tapes in the slipper, things about Michael, to the point my biggest internal joke about this fandom is me being the only asexual here. It's even on my wattpad username! I WAS FOURTEEN WHEN I CREATED THAR USERNAME😭

I’m not saying that ppl don’t thirst over Mike but if you usually go to the comments section it’s full of ppl who have this holier than thou attitude and shame others for having sexual thoughts about Michael

[chaoticgeminate]

Black Vultures (iv)

Summary: When your plane to a beach resort vacation crashes, nowhere near your destination, you have to depend on a stranger to protect you from horrors you never could have imagined.

Pairing: Pero Tovar x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit** (Thar be some smut ahead)

Notes/Warnings: Series involves general survival, cannibals, violence, and gore with body horror elements. This is based loosely off 'The Forest' and while I may have used a picture of Pero in armor we are working with a modernized Pero here.

**ILLNESS AND FAIRLY GRAPHIC VIOLENCE WARNING AS WELL AS A BIT OF SMUT**

Written for @yearofcreation2023

Series Masterlist | Year of Video Game AUs Masterlist

and you haven't seen the last of me just yet (4.6k)

Your condition wasn’t improving, even with the heavy dose of antibiotics you were taking daily, and after day two the team had lost contact with William and the others. Each day you waited there were more and more gunshots by the security forces, taking down cannibals -it had finally been confirmed after a team had scouted out one of the villages that these people were actually killing and eating other humans- and in the worst case it was one of those monsters. Even now your eyelids felt heavy and your limbs felt sore, like you were trying to move with weights holding you down, and the medics were perplexed by the sudden turn your health had taken.

Crying was pretty normal for you now, between your worry for Pero and the fear that you weren’t going to make it through this, and thankfully nobody seemed to think less of you for the depression you’d fallen into over the last week. It felt weird, you’d been… fine with the thought of dying before this when it was just you and Pero; that had been the most likely outcome, especially when you first got sick. But now? Now you were scared of going to sleep and just not waking up, it made you jolt awake nearly every hour after trying to sleep with a scream dying in your throat before you could even make a sound.

Gunshots ripped you out of your half-dazed state this time, louder and closer than they’d ever been, and the tent flap opened as a cannibal covered in blood walked through with a jagged knife in his hand that had to have come from one of the soldiers. His eyes landed on you and there wasn’t even a chance in hell at your defending yourself, your arm felt like lead and even rolling your head to look at him made you hurt. The chilling smile on his face had tears forming in your eyes, blurring your vision and making your lashes stick together, the gunfire was still going but you couldn’t even work up the power to make a sound for help.

Pain flooded every synapse in your body when that blade was stabbed down, right through the joint of your elbow, and that was when you screamed. Especially when, upon wrenching the blade free, the jagged edge of the back ripped through worse due to its serration. You flailed, the pain and adrenaline strengthening you enough to roll away from this and stumble off the bed, your feet barely supporting you as you tried to find a weapon or something. The IV lines were ripped out of your skin, the drip lines starting to spill fluid in your frantic need to escape, and you barely managed to stay upright when your vision blurred.

The cannibal laughed, a chilling sound with all the screaming and gunfire going on around you, and you hurled an instrument tray at him as a distraction before running out of the tent on stumbling feet. Bodies blocked your path as you searched for a place to hide, to find safety and shelter, and you nearly shrieked when your foot gave out and you began to tumble down a low incline. The pain of landing on river stones almost made you scream, instead you dragged yourself under the dirt overhang and laid there as all the fight escaped you at the touch of the freezing liquid, and you tried to keep quiet when you heard the footsteps above you.

For whatever reason they didn’t look for you, didn’t look under the edge of the dirt, and eventually the gunfire died down leaving nothing but silence from where you’d found yourself. Cold and shivering, pain in your arm and body, and unable to even work up the strength to move; left there in the few millimeters of water and on that cold stone waiting for death.

Maybe it was a day, maybe it wasn’t even half that, but eventually someone screaming your name broke through the dark that had lured you in like a siren song; you couldn’t move at all, couldn’t talk past the shivering, and you blinked away the blurriness as William’s face filled your vision. He picked you up, and this time you did wail as the pain in your arm turned fire hot, but he didn’t stop moving at all. William was moving fast and running hard, each step jostling you painfully and making you whimper, but you couldn’t even find the strength to fight against the discomfort.

Large, hot, hands cupped your face and Pero looked terrified; you couldn’t hear what he was saying and when you blinked again you were sure some stretch of time had passed because you were held down with something and definitely not in the woods. You didn’t realize it was inside a helicopter -and you wouldn’t know that until much later- but hours of time were lost to falling unconscious, up until you were finally admitted to the nearest hospital.

Keegan’s recovery was going smoothly, the haunted look in his eyes was still there and likely would be for a long time, but Pero had been relieved to find the other man alive. Your best friend was marked with scars from his own ordeal, meeting another survivor Eric who had been looking for his son, and Eric had been transferred to a local prison as his son was being turned over for observation by William and Lin’s unit after what he’d confessed to have done to the first rescue plane. Pero sat beside Keegan, both men silent as they waited, and after a long moment Keegan finally broke that tense emptiness.

“Have they told you anything yet?”

“No, not yet, I’ve only just agreed to go back. Haven’t been able to find out how she’s been.” He had wanted to get out, to run from this world of things that shouldn’t be real, but that forest proved there was more in the world that he didn’t know existed and that running from it once had cursed him forever.

“Doctors said she’s been woken up from her medical coma, now that they’ve finally gotten all traces of the infection out, she’s been asking about you.” Pero had been inconsolable for the past week, torn between angry pacing outside your hospital room and crying in his own, terrified that he’d failed you and that you weren’t going to make it through. Keegan had been forced to make a choice for you, as the military had not wanted to bring your family into what happened until they had a proper cover story and knew if you were going to comply to a request of discretion or not, but that choice had saved your life.

A nurse stepped out of the room and looked at both men, the look on her face was tense, but she did nod and gesture to the door; Keegan looked surprised when Pero stayed seated but then grateful before he walked into the room. Even through the closed door Pero heard your shriek of surprise and joy, heard the soft sobs as you no doubt cried that your friend had survived, and he was truly glad to have that peace of mind for you. It was less than an hour before Keegan came out, looking just as red-eyed and exhausted as Pero felt, but the cathartic crying from knowing you’d both survived had clearly helped lighten the man’s emotional load.

Pero clapped him on the shoulder, pulling him into a tight hug, and Keegan’s returning hug was just as tight as the other man broke down into soft tears again.

“Thank you, Pero, for keeping her safe. Thank you for protecting my best friend.”

“I would do it all over again, every time.”

Pero faced the door, chest tight, before walking in after Keegan departed; you were sitting up in bed, looking significantly better than when you’d first been brought here, and he watched the way your eyes widened before you were reaching for him. He ignored the guilt that slammed through him at the sight of the bandages on your left elbow covering the healing injury, the limb nearly unable to be saved if not for Keegan, and he captured your face in his hands to press his forehead to yours while you gripped the loose fabric of his henley and sobbed at the sight of him.

“You’re okay, I thought- I thought you and William and the others didn’t make it when they lost contact-“

“No, bonita, no. We found an underground lab, where they were studying those things and our radio was destroyed. I am glad that you held on long enough for us to get you here, to get you help.” He felt his own eyes water with relief, he was not proud of how he’d reacted when he returned to the camp to find it in shambles and only William managing to track you down and find you had been enough to quell his howling rage and desire to kill every single cannibal left in those woods.

“They- there’s nerve damage. Permanent nerve damage, so the doctors suggested a compression sleeve and a medicinal card for pain management, I can’t- there’s a lot I won’t be able to do now. I have no idea how I’m going to afford my bills if I can’t work, if I even have a job still.” Pero glanced at your arm again, it was in a splint to ensure that you kept it in a position that would allow it to heal, and he knew that the next part of the conversation was going to be the hardest. He sat back on the side of the bed, taking your good hand in his and just allowing himself to be relieved that you were okay.

“Your- all your medical expenses will be paid for entirely, bonita, that is something I can promise you. But the rest is a bit more complex of a situation.”

“They want to buy my silence, don’t they? They’ll pay for all my expenses if I sign that litany of NDAs you talked about before.”

“Sí, that just about sums it up. If you don’t they will paint you as a madwoman and ruin you, just like they did to Ballard when he refused to stay silent out the tao tei.” He knew you’d recognize the name, Ballard had gone public with his experience and been painted as a raving lunatic since there was no evidence anywhere to support his claims. Shamed, embarrassed, and mocked to the point that he’d taken his own life to avoid the public fallout of trying to put the government on the spot. The story of the man’s suicide had been plastered all over tabloids and conspiracy theory articles everywhere.

“I’m joining the task force again, to work with William and Lin, I tried to run from whatever magic or mutant nonsense is happening in the world once already and it clearly wasn’t done with me. I just- even if you refuse to sign those forms I will handle all your expenses myself.” Your good hand squeezed his, eyes shooting wide in alarm, and you looked away as your eyes grew misty. He hated knowing that he was making you cry, already you’d be going through extensive therapy just to try and bounce back from the mental damage this event caused, now he was compounding that emotionally.

“Keegan is too, he’s leaving to start his training tomorrow now that I’ve come out of my coma, they’ve been stalling so that he could say goodbye while he got cleared medically and… and emotionally.” There was still a lot of trauma for everyone that had made it out, and it would certainly linger, but Pero honestly wasn’t at all surprised to learn that Keegan couldn’t go back to a normal life after this. He had struggled for years to try and remind himself that not only was he alive but that it was all over, he’d barely just begun feeling like maybe he could move on at last before this happened.

“If I could go back and stop it all from happening I would-“

“I wouldn’t.”

He stopped the second you interrupted him, his eyes studying the determined and firm expression that you wore.

“I wouldn’t stop it, Pero. What I- what we had to endure was awful, but I’d rather know the truth than live in ignorance, and we have each other now. Even if nothing becomes of the interest we have for one another-“

“Bonita, I have every intention of pursuing you romantically, I will always be your friend but I would like to be more than that too if you’ll allow me the chance. You are far braver than you think of yourself, more resilient than anyone else in your situation would have been, I would love to get to know you better outside of all of that.” He watched the way your determined expression shifted to something softer, fond, the way your eyes began to water a little.

“I can’t wait.”

Sometimes you forgot that you’d been on an IV at the hospital, had access to instant painkillers that made it bearable, because the bad pain days had become a challenge.

“I don’t know why you keep doing this for me, it’s hard.” Pero didn’t answer your morose statement, the pain in your arm had been debilitating today to the point that you couldn’t even do anything but lay on the bed crying, and you watched him fold your laundry as you waited for your edible to kick in and offer you some form of relief. Your good arm reached out and Pero caught your hand, leaning down to press a kiss to your fingertips and nuzzle his cheek into your palm.

“It is not hard, Bonita, and I do this because I love you. I understand that there will be bad days mixed in with the good, I am not some… selfish boy unable to do extra chores when my girlfriend is suffering.”

“But you already split housework with me and take over whenever I’m having a bad mental day too-“

“Sí, because I love you. You have done the same for me, and during the times I am away you do everything on your own, don’t think I don’t notice that I have yet to come home to the house being left messy. I know that when I am away you push yourself through the pain to work and clean, Bonita, so please let me do this for you.” His expression was gentle and adoring, those dark eyes of his shining with affection so deep that you felt like you were drowning in his love; tears began to swim in your eyes and Pero shoved the pile of clothes back into the hamper with his other hand before climbing into the bed and pulling you so that you were half draped over his chest and his other hand could hold the back of your head.

“I’m sorry you have to clean up after me all the time-“

“I do not and you know this, we’ll have to ensure you have a small stash of edibles by the bed for days that you cannot get up at all from how bad your pain is, that’s all. You’re only this distressed over it because this is the second day in a row that you’ve woken up with this pain level, I will call the doctor and get see what they recommend.”

But with those bad days came good ones, when you woke up feeling okay and being able to do whatever you needed to get done, and on those days you struggled with keeping your tasks minimal because you knew that it would be far too easy to push yourself just a bit too much.

“I can do it!” Your voice was chipper and light as you took the bag from Keegan and blew a raspberry at his offended call of your name, scampering up the steps into his apartment before he could try and take the craft goods back and hand them off to Jackie or Leah who were already overburdened with bags. You began organizing what had already been brought up, you couldn’t exactly join this year’s ‘crochet seven days away’ project so instead you were hanging out as moral support, in the past you had ended up doing more with fetching snacks and drinks or making sure nobody ran out of material anyway so it wasn’t like it’d be too different.

The project for this year was a massive blanket and with three people working on nonstop you were wondering just how much progress would be made, the challenge was to make as big of whatever it was you’d picked as possible, and you weren’t missing this year just because of what happened. You’d packed your clothes and some edibles to tide you over, all three of your compression sleeves, and Pero knew where you were at and promised to stop by if you needed him for anything.

“So, uh, not to be grim but- have you considered what the doctor’s suggested?” Keegan glanced sharply at Jackie while Leah winced where she was pulling out and sorting the material by color.

“Yes and no, I have good days too and it’s not like amputating the damaged part of my arm is going to fix everything. Yes the nerve pain will be gone for the most part but I’d have the waiting period and physical therapy for any prosthetic to consider too. Plus… I’d be agreeing to get my arm taken off.” You glanced at your colorful sleeve cover, Keegan and the girls had made long glove style arm warmers that you could use to hide your compression sleeve, this one was the first of the bunch and made with a sunset gradient of colors and snap closures.

“You know I’m not pressuring you right? I just want you to feel comfortable in your own skin, girl. I’m glad you’re doing okay and that you’re going to therapy, that you are taking care of yourself and that Pero is taking care of you, and this is your choice. We’ll all support you no matter what you pick.” Jackie’s smile was warm and you nodded since you knew she hadn’t meant it badly, she’d been through this scenario before with a cousin that had lost a portion of his leg and foot to diabetes when he refused to get himself any type of help, that all she wanted to do was offer you a space to vent about how you felt with your choices.

You couldn’t tell them the whole truth of what happened, and neither could Keegan, but your friends didn’t need to know the whole truth to understand your conflict.

Some days you felt the most normal, the pain tolerable enough that you didn’t need to self-medicate but wanting to stay home and relax, these days were among Pero’s favorite since it always involved movies or TV shows watched together or even just reading something aloud while he laid with his head in your lap.

“Alright, you win. There are fan writers out there who can provide a more compelling story than some of the fiction novels that I have read.” Pero had challenged your love of fanfiction, after catching you reading an update on your phone when you thought he was asleep -you’d lost a boyfriend over a particularly smut-filled fanfic he’d found by going through your browser history (a high key "what the fuck")- so fessing up to Pero had been really nerve-wracking. But instead of meeting you with mocking behavior he’d been curious, asking why you enjoyed it and what your favorites were.

“I am a man who watches porn, Bonita, treating you reading sex scenes in writing as worse is stupid.” Pero’s comment back then had earned him a smile and a kiss that left your toes curling when he took control of it, the fact that he was just so good about your reading proved that you had truly found a great man.

“Should I leave a review about how much you loved Stranger at my Gate? How you identified so well with the main character?” He hummed and nodded, dictating the review that you tapped out on your phone, and you read it back to him before submitting it. Pero looked up at you for a moment as you navigated out of the fic to the main pairing page, setting your phone aside to look down at him, and he turned his head to press a kiss to the inside of your left elbow where your scars shimmered in the low lighting of the living room. You smiled and leaned down to kiss him, making Pero lean up into it, and he shifted to turn around so he could drape himself on you.

Laying down like a content cat with his full weight pressing you into the sofa, his head resting so his ear was right over your heart. It was moments like this, when the light was low and it was calm, that you both just took the time to breathe and remember that you were alive and okay now.

There were also days you spent together that were a much different flavor of being together.

He was devouring you, his broad shoulders wedging your legs open, one of his hands was gripping at your hip while the other held yours; his mouth opened wider and your back arched off the bed, the grip you had on his hair tightening as his tongue swirled to collect more of your wetness. Pero called himself a messy eater and he was no different when it was his mouth between your legs, smearing his face with saliva and slick as he dropped his chin to circle your entrance and the curve of his nose nudged your swollen clit.

“P-pero-!” You had lost count how many times he had made you come already, you had woken up wet and needy from a dream that slipped away like a phantom, and your beloved boyfriend had been happy to rise to the task of sating you. Hips hips rutted against the mattress, delaying his own release to make you sink into the mattress from love drunk exhaustion, and you tugged at his hair as your body ached to feel him.

Those dark eyes swam with delight and he came willingly, dragging his skin along yours, his messy mouth slotting to your own as you felt the heft of him drag along your slit before he sheathed himself with a slow thrust; it was easy with how wet you were, his saliva and your wet release making him sigh with pleasure into your very lungs as you breathed him in.

In the beginning he’d been gentler, unwilling to add to the pain that you already experienced, but time together -years together now- helped him heal with you and his rough thrust jolted your body as you grabbed at his back and curled your legs around his hips and thighs. Pero let out a throaty sound against the side of your neck when he dragged his mouth along your skin, the wet sounds of his hips meeting yours joining the symphony of heavy breaths and soft moans, and as he shifted his knees just a touch to angle your hips your sighs became soft mewls.

“Come for me, Bonita, soak me.” Pero braced himself on one arm so he could grab your chin, angle your head to mouth at the soft spot right below your ear, and even if you wanted to deny yourself he’d made you soft and sensitive and pliant; the clutch of you mingling with your own gasp of his name and Pero’s hips stuttered as he filled you with him. Your breaths were hot and your sweat slicked bodies were close, and you just clung to him as Pero rolled onto his side and just held you.

Days apart were always harder but the reunions made them worth it.

Jamil handed you a stack of files and you set them down at your desk, a stable job had been your only demand for signing the litany of NDAs upon getting out of the hospital, and the government had employed you to work in the same line of covert operations that Pero did just from the safety of a desk. Pero and his team had been gone for a week now, not the shortest amount of time but nowhere near the longest, and you were doing okay for now. There had been a bad pain day just yesterday, making work difficult but you’d fought through it to avoid the mocking stares of the others, and you could practically feel the weight of those looks on your compression sleeve.

It was no secret what happened to you, the former department leader had all but dressed you down in front of everyone when you’d called out due to a bad pain day, basically telling everyone that you weren’t allowed to act like some princess and skip work by faking any pain. He hadn’t lasted long after that, you hadn’t intended to get him fired but the man made one mistake by calling Lin -who was his boss- to tell her that he wanted you gone. Pero had made quite the show of walking into the room behind his friends, the day after, decked out in his tactical gear and the man had been not only fired but also subjected to lawsuits out the ass for violating HR policies by talking about your experience and disability to others without your consent.

Now the entire office was terrified of you, hated you and excluded you from everything with the fear that they would be next, except for Jamil. You were far from blind to the fact that his kindness stemmed from a desire to be left alone, him being okay with you made everyone else leave him be, but you were okay with that because he made it a little more tolerable during the workday. His favorite thing was to tell you god awful puns and dad jokes, one an hour, just to make you laugh.

You went home to an empty house and went through the motions of showering, not bothering to pick up your work clothes off the floor today after getting changed, and dropped down onto the bed. Bad pain days always left you feeling out of sorts, reaching out to the bedside table and grabbing one of the edibles from the little organizer case that Pero put together for you, and you drifted off to sleep as the pain dulled and your mind drifted through the haze of semi-consciousness into the arms of Morpheus.

What disrupted your sleep was the weight of the blankets covering you, the bed shifting under someone’s weight, and your half-open gaze spotted Pero’s form slide into bed before he pulled you into his body as he whispered words of love into the crown of your head. But his spicy body wash and the warmth of him fresh out of the shower lulled you back into a deeper rest now that he was here, now that he was home.

It was a hard life being on this side of the truth, nightmares you would never escape plaguing your sleep sometimes, but you were okay and you would continue to be okay. Together.

All Fics Taglist: @haylzcyon @wordsnwhiskey @pagannightwitch @radiowallet @tauralmie @amneris21 @trickstersp8 @practicalghost @rominaszh @alwaysdjarin @alexxavicry @all-the-way-down-here

Just Pedro Taglist: @maievdenoir @beecastle @littlemisspascal @writeforfandoms @aynsleywalker @lovesbiggerthanpride @mswarriorbabe80 @emiemiemiii

Alt Taglist: @imtryingmybeskar @fan-of-encouragement @grogusmum @sizzlingcloudmentality @deadhumourist @prostitute-robot-from-the-future

[mountttmase]

Ok so

I think they'll love them cause they really wanted a new sibling, like they were the ones asking 🤭

But at the same time I think tilly would be a bit jealous, well better, I think she is kinda the type of girly who loves to have attention on her and I think she would be taken aback by baby n.3 needing a lot of her parents attention

Ollie I think would be tge opposite, like we know he was jealous of tilly so I think now he is more mature and I'm sure he would help y/n and Mase so much. Like even when they are maybe asleep and the baby starts crying I can see him running there first, not wanting his parents to be woken up

And I can see ollie taking care of tilly too, like trying to involve her soooo much and to help her to accept thar new addition

Ps

Smut inspo needed😏🤭

Firstly thank you for the smut inspo, visuals always help 🤭

And yes I love this, Ollie is like the little man of the house and he knows how it feels to have a new sibling so I like the idea of him getting Tilly involved but also looking after the little bubba himself

And yes Tilly the terror still needs her attention but I think she’d be so excited they’re here and can’t wait for them to be a bit older so they can do more

[eeveevie]

Come to bed kisses for bryn x fiona please? :)

reporting in

Fiona finds a report from Brynjolf on the Guildmaster's desk, except its contents aren't exactly what she was expecting.

(Explicit content because I cannot control myself)*

*my self-indulgent plot, what plot? aka ‘accidentally had John Mayer lyrics at one point in the letter’ fic. Despite that, recommended listening is that new T-Swift song “False God” because of that snazzy, sexy sax line that just screamed for me to write this.

Brynjolf x f!Dragonborn (Fiona)

2772 words (under a cut) | Ao3

The Guildmaster’s desk was a mess of reports and coin satchels—a good sign, but also a sign Fiona would be busy that evening reviewing the week’s intake of profits. Judging by the merriment of the Guild members in the Cistern, there hadn’t been any loses while she’d been away pilfering her own goods for the vault. She sidestepped the offering chest, focusing instead on the various piles of parchment from her team.

Delvin’s reports from footpads and how they were successfully fishing from nobles in Solitude and Whiterun, Tonila’s logbook from the shipment of diamonds she intercepted off the Winterhold coast, Vex’s list of earnings of selling off stolen goods to fences across Skyrim…the reports seemed never ending. Business was excellent.

What she didn’t expect to find was a report from Brynjolf—his scraggly handwriting the only indication it was from him. Since she had taken over as Guildmaster, he had favored telling her of his escapades in person. He called it pillow talk, Fiona called it lazy and poor book-keeping. It intrigued her so much that she pulled it from the stack, softly chuckling at the little illustrated heart he had drawn on the front next to Guildmaster.

—Windhelm

This city is miserable without you, lass. Sitting in this tavern, I’m reminded that this is the first place where we first shared a bed—or at least the first time I didn’t have to sneak into your room uninvited only for you to kick me to the floor in the night. You must’ve known I wanted you then, even if my intentions weren’t entirely pure with the games we played. We’ve found ourselves in this place several times since that evening, and we’ve changed since then—how mad for you I’ve become, and unafraid I am to show you exactly how I feel.

If you were here with me—I’d kiss every inch of that soft skin of yours, touch every expanse. Count every freckle on your shoulders with my tongue and work to leave my mark on the column of your neck. Collect your sighs as they spill from your lips and trace the outline of your body with my own. I’d praise your body like the goddess you are—Divines strike me down if that’s too sacrilegious.

I’d bring you insurmountable pleasure, have you coming with my hands, with my mouth—long before I ever take you with my body. I’d fill you completely, make love in that slow way that agonizes you—fuck you until your body trembled with ecstasy. I would not stop until I had you screaming my name for the whole city to hear.

That is, if you were here.

Until I see you again, lass, and can take you to bed.

-B

Fiona read over the letter a second and then a third time, gripping the parchment a little tighter each time. She should’ve known not to expect a formal report from him, but she didn’t think he’d ever send anything like…this. She was so engrossed in the words that when a hand landed on her waist, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

“I see you received my message,” Brynjolf laughed, pulling her back tight against his chest as his other arm snaked around her hip. “It’s not like you to be startled, lass.”

Fiona blinked hard and made to respond when he nuzzled his head against hers, brushing away the lose strands of her hair, seeking out her neck. She knew exactly what he was after and within seconds, his lips were wrapped around her pulse point—his most favored spot. A tingle ran down the length of her spine to the tip of her toes. Despite how she tried to hide it, she knew he had noticed her full body shiver with the way his lips curled into a devious grin against her skin.

“Back so soon?” she rasped, biting her lip and cursing herself at the lame question. Was that all she could say? While she would never give him the satisfaction of admitting it, it was so easy for him at times to dissolve her into a speechless, lovestruck fool with a few well-placed kisses and honeyed words. He had barely begun and Gods she wanted him--needed him—now.

“Aye,” he answered, deep voice muffled against her throat. “You read my report, Fiona.” His teeth nipped at the tender flesh behind her ear, and she bit back a moan, eyes darting across the Cistern, wondering if anybody was watching or just choosing to ignore their Guildmaster and Second’s public displays of lewdness.

Brynjolf shuffled them forward, pinning Fiona’s hips to the desk. He pressed further, making his arousal known through their leathers against her flank. Finally, Fiona found her voice.

“You’re here to take me to bed?” she asked, struggling to hide her excitement.

“No,” he answered gruffly. “The desk will do just fine.”

Fiona’s breath caught in her throat as his hand on her waist dropped low, deft fingers dipping beneath the layers of leather and cloth to touch at the flesh of her lower back. She sighed, bracing her hands against the desk as his hand dipped further, groping at the curve of her ass. His knee nudged her thigh and she took the not-so-subtle hint, spreading her stance just enough. Brynjolf shifted, leaning over her shoulder to glance at her, watch her as he carefully maneuvered his fingers further down her pants to her entrance.

She inhaled sharply when he finally touched her, involuntarily jutting her hips forward. Out of the corner of her eye she could see his smirk, darkened eyes drinking in her every reaction to his touch. The tip of one finger slowly slid across her seam, her knees wanting to buckle already. He was teasing her, never quite pressing the digit within her folds and yet she could still feel herself coiling up.

“Bryn—” she choked in a quiet hush, trying to pull away but found that his grip would not allow for it. “The others!”

She was not opposed to him taking her across the desk—not in the slightest, but for Talos’ sake, could he be any less impatient? She didn’t need an audience and hadn’t developed a penchant for voyeurism while he was gone.

“Better dismiss them,” he mused, not even remotely pausing in his movements as he curled his fingers against her heat. “Quickly now, before I make you—”

A trembling sigh escaped her before she finally found the strength to elbow him to give herself a little bit of space. He sniggered, retreating and removing his hands from her body as she shouted across the wide-open room. “Everybody!” she waved her arm in the direction of the Flaggon. “I’ve read the reports from this week. Drinks are on me!”

She had to admit it didn’t sound like the best excuse for free alcohol. When the Guild took their time filing themselves into the ratway tavern, Brynjolf shouted after them, louder than her. “You heard the boss, on with it!”

As if catching the tone in his voice, every last thief quickly evacuated the Cistern until Fiona and Brynjolf were the only ones left.  

“Well now they definitely know what we’re up to,” Fiona mumbled, a hand over her face.

Brynjolf quickly turned her body so she was facing him, capturing her lips in a rough kiss. He wedged her against the desk once more, hands roaming across her waist more eagerly than before, pulling at buckles and laces to remove her clothing.

“Oh well,” he broke away to mutter against her mouth. “They’ll be hearing you anyways.”

She moaned at his words and tilted her head to the side when his kisses trailed back towards her neck, lips fervently moving along her skin as his heated fingertips tugged at her pants. Her hands joined his, quickly removing her coat and tossing it aside—she’d leave her undershirt on for now. She then reached out for him, but only managed to undo the first few buckles of his armored coat before he swatted her hands away.

“You first,” he clarified, sultry expression telling her he was much more focused on her pleasure than his own.

Reluctantly, Fiona let him continue until he had pulled her trousers down just past her thighs, fingers catching her undergarments at the same time. Only then did he grip her hips, effortlessly lifting her to prop her on the edge of the desk. Brynjolf then sat in the Guildmaster’s chair, sliding it closer as he slowly removed her boots, never once removing his burning gaze from hers. There was something predatory in his expression, but instead of frightening her it only aroused her further. It was something she was still getting used to with Brynjolf—the different ways he showed his physical affection, now that they were together. He could surprise her in Nightingale Hall and fuck her brains out against a catacomb wall and in the morning at Honeyside have nothing but sweet and slow affection to shower her in. Fiona loved and craved it all.

When she was completely bare from the waist down, he ran his hands across her legs, tilting his head just close enough to kiss the inside of one knee. “Lie back lass, so that I can taste you.”

Fiona followed his instructions immediately, leaning back until she was flush against the desk. Brynjolf steadied her legs in his grasp, spreading them as he made room for himself, eventually propping her knees along the wide expanse of his shoulders. He kissed upwards, the prickly stubble of his beard causing her skin to tickle. One hand creeped upwards with his head, the other firmly gripping her hip to the table.

When his hand found her centerfolds again, she heard—felt—him groan, he couldn’t resist reacting to how stimulated she was for him. Brynjolf only touched her for a fleeting moment before replacing his hand with his mouth, tongue tracing a thick line across her heat a few times before focusing on her clit. His fingers—oh Divines bless those fingers—appeared once more to press inside her, one, then two fingers hooking in and out in a delightful rhythm. She writhed against him, both hands reaching down to thread and grasp at his hair in desperation.

She was suddenly reminded that at any moment, a Guild member could walk back through the Cistern entrance and catch them. Now more than ever, she wanted to chase her end, and found herself scooting—or at least trying to move—closer to his touch, anything to get him move that beautiful, devilish mouth of his faster against her cunt.

“Please, oh—” she gasped, breaking off into a moan as his tongue and lips lapped at her in tight circles. “Faster.” She was just about to—

“Bryn!” she yelped when she felt him pull back just enough to deny her ecstasy. She dug her heel into the middle of his back, crying his name out louder when he responded in earnest—it didn’t take much for her to finally find release. Fiona gripped his hair tight, squeezing her thighs against his temple as more incoherent words fell from her lips—perhaps some of them in Dovahzul.

Brynjolf didn’t pull away until her body relaxed from seizing, sporting a small satisfied grin through kisses to her thighs and hips as he brought her legs down from his shoulders. His movements slowed as he leaned up from the chair to loom over her.

“In a rush?” he asked in a playful tone. Still breathless, Fiona only glanced upwards towards the Flaggon entrance before looking towards Brynjolf. He softly chuckled, hands ghosting over her thighs, causing little tremors to echo up her body. “You don’t think I made sure somebody is on lookout for us?”

Fiona could only roll her eyes. Of course he had the entire evening rearranged. Delvin? Vex? It didn’t matter. She couldn’t be that annoyed or embarrassed about the situation—it was a fool’s errand to try and keep her private affairs private from the others. Instead, she grew impatient as she focused on Brynjolf unbuckling his coat, opening it before working to undo his trousers as well. She sat up and pulled him in for a frenzied kiss, moving her hands across his body to remove as much—or as little clothing as possible so he could take her. He shrugged off his Guild jacket, both their hands meeting to shove his pants and underwear down past his thighs. Fiona hooked her legs around his waist, urging him to come closer to her, palm already seeking the heat of his stiffened cock when he groaned into her mouth.

She gasped when he pulled away, if only to pounce on her, grabbing both of her wrists in one large calloused hand, holding them above her head as he stretched her across the desk beneath his body. His other hand gripped her hip tight, breaking away for the briefest of seconds to align himself at her entrance. Fiona anticipated more teasing or prolonged torture of pleasure but instead, Brynjolf plunged forward, fully seating himself within her with that initial thrust.

Her body reacted wholly, back arching off the desk and hips crashing against his. She flexed her fingers, struggling to free her hands so she could grasp at his body—anywhere so she could find leverage. His hand on her hip dug deeper, blunt nails biting into her skin in a delightfully painful way. Brynjolf withdrew and thrust forward just as quickly, and she tossed her head back, moaning loudly as the heat of him filled her completely. He released the hold on her wrists, but before she could reach out to touch him he leaned away, hands sliding along her legs to press against his torso, ankles resting along his shoulders as he firmly held her waist. Fiona concentrated on his furrowed brow as he set a relentless pace—it wasn’t to be quick—but to be passionate. To make a statement—one she heard very loud and clear.

She bit down on her lip before deciding against stifling herself, concluding it was much better to let their noises be heard as he intended. She reached down to grip his hands at her waist, their fingers haphazardly lacing. It was a struggle to keep eye-contact as that first glorious wave started to crash over her—he wasn’t going to stop just yet. Fiona began to pant, repeated his name over and over between little prayers to Nocturnal and Mara and every God in-between. Brynjolf kept a determined focus on her eyes and body, his thrusts only faltering by the time her second orgasm made her body convulse and pulsate in ways that threatened to milk every last drop of seed from his body.

When he came, it was hard, hips crashing against her body with a strangled groan catching in his throat before his body was falling across hers on the desk, her name a hushed whisper of amazement as they slowly rolled their hips against each other. Eventually he withdrew from her but stayed close, the heat and weight of his body a pleasantly welcome feeling.

“Can I expect more reports from you?” Fiona asked, breathless as she clung to him, sweeping one of her hands down his back. “With little hearts and important details?”

Brynjolf’s deep rumbling chuckle echoed next to her ear, his warm breath still causing a tingle to spark along her spine. He kissed her temple, pulling away so he could look at her directly. His expression was bright, eyes glimmering with amusement and adoration—she could get used to the way he looked at her like this.

“That would entail sending me away,” he explained.

Fiona scrunched up her face in protest. “Never mind.”

After several moments, Brynjolf eventually leaned away, gripping her hands to help her sit up, the two of them laughing as they observed the mess they had made of the desk—parchment and reports strewn about, a shattered inkpot on the floor and at least three gold pieces had made it all the way to the middle water-pool.

“I can still leave you notes, lass,” he spoke, voice hinting at what filth they would contain. “Just know this is a possible outcome.”

Fiona nodded, pressing soft lazy kisses along his stubbled jaw. “What about debriefing me in person?”

“Isn’t that what I just—” he chuckled, catching onto her tease. “Oh, my sweet saucy minx, of course you can have both. After all, I aim to please.”

[lillotte17]

Storm Chasers

Oh lord, this was a prompt from...4-5 YEARS ago??? I have no idea where the ask is anymore, but I believe it was “The sound of thunder.”

~

Solas awoke to the rumbling of distant thunder and the discovery that the bedroll beside him had been vacated. After an instant of blind groggy panic, he sensed the familiar magic of the Inquisitor’s mark coming from somewhere nearby. A heavy sigh of relief mixed with mild exasperation slid from him as he sat up and began rummaging around for his clothes.

The air in the Frostback Basin was cool and cloying, with a weighty dampness that seemed to seep into his very bones. Between the layers of thick furs and the warmth of his lover’s arms, Solas had been perfectly comfortable sleeping in just his breeches, but he certainly was not about to stroll around the camp that way.

After a few moments of fruitless searching, he heaved a defeated groan. Aili must have walked off with his sweater. Again.

He pulled on a lighter linen tunic from is pack instead, wrapping one of the still-warm blankets from their bed about his shoulders before he exited the tent, completely barefoot and hoping she had not wandered too far.

Even in the dead of night, the forest was a marvel. Pockets of strange colors turned into something ghostly when illuminated by cool glow of the veilfire torches set around the camp and along the twisting pathways on the forest floor. A weak drizzle of rainfall fractured their light into an ethereal haze, deepening the long black shadows of the massive trees until they looked like holes in the skin of the world. It was all at once beautiful and haunting.

Solas pulled the blanket up over his head to serve as a makeshift hood as he searched their treetop campsite for any signs of Aili. He shivered slightly as the rain began to soak through his clothing, causing the cream-colored linen to stick to his skin. He vaguely hoped that Aili had at least had the good sense to pull on more than his sweater before wandering outside in this weather.

The sound of quiet humming came drifting to him through the gentle hiss of falling water like the memory of a dream.

Sure enough, Aili was sitting out on one of the larger tree limbs, the ones big enough to pass for pathways in their own right, clad in nothing but his sweater and a worn pair of leggings, her bare feet swinging back and forth in time with her song. Her damp hair hung about her shoulders in loose ringlets, the moonlight igniting it into a gleaming halo around her face, edging her features in silver. Her eyes burned with a fire of their own, two violet coals that found him in the darkness long before he had made a noise that a human could have heard.

“Ma sa’lath,” she greeted him quietly.

“Vhenan,” he replied in kind as he made his way out onto the branch. He sat down beside her in the unpleasantly wet moss that had grown over the wood, wrapping one arm around her shoulders to share the relative shelter of the blanket. “What are you doing out here in the middle of the night?”

“Humming,” she said evasively, her eyes flitting away from him to look back out into the trees. He regarded her silently, a sharply arched brow paired with a thin suspicious frown informing her that he was by no means satisfied with her answer.

“I was just thinking, Solas, honestly,” she amended with a tired-sounding sigh.

“And these thoughts could not be processed adequately someplace warm and dry?” He queried.

“It’s just rain,” she huffed at him, rolling her eyes. “It isn’t as though I’m going to melt if I get a bit wet. Besides, I needed the fresh air.”

There was another rumble of thunder, louder than the last, and the rain was decidedly heavier than when he had left their tent.

“It will be storming soon enough,” he said, getting to his feet and offering her a hand to do the same.

 “Do you think it might have been something like this?” She asked softly, still staring out at the forest, ignoring his outstretched hand. “The Dales? …Halamshiral?”

Solas blinked at her in mild astonishment before taking a moment to consider, gazing out into the woods once more. He saw the distant flickering lights of other Inquisition campsites in the trees as well as along the riverbank and fires from other smaller camps which likely belonged to groups of wandering Avaar. The crumbling ruins of elves and humans alike, molded into new purpose. The towering trees standing watch like gigantic sentinels. The tenuous state of the Veil and the lingering sense of older magics.

“Perhaps,” Solas said gently, sensing her melancholy, “I imagine that many of the Dalish settlements strongly resembled human villages from the areas of Thedas their inhabitants originated from. The more Elvhen elements likely did not appear until much later.”

“See that in the Fade, did you?” Aili asked with a wry smile, an unmistakable touch of bitterness coloring her tone.

“I apologize if my knowledge offends you, Inquisitor,” he replied with an unexpected edge of his own, and perhaps a not so subtle trace of hurt.

“I’m sorry,” Aili said hastily, reaching out for his hand and bringing it to her cheek, nuzzling it in apology. She heaved a defeated sigh. “You come by all this information so effortlessly, and me and my people just seem to be perpetually fumbling in the dark, grasping at straws and trying to weave them into a tapestry of where we came from. …but there are still so many holes. Ameridan was one of ours, and we didn’t even know. It wasn’t just the humans who erased him, we forgot. How could that happen?”

“Seeking knowledge in the Fade is hardly effortless,” Solas reminded her, trailing his fingers along her cheek. “And, considering the violent end the Orlesians wrought upon the Elvhen kingdom, it is not wholly surprising that they would spurn someone who had once been close with the Emperor whose son destroyed their homeland.”

“But he was a hero!” Aili protested ardently. “An elf and a mage! And before I joined the Inquisition, I’d never even heard his name. It isn’t right.”

“Such is the way of history, Vhenan,” he said heavily.

“And…the same thing will happen to me?”

Solas took a moment to study her face, her noticeably elven features, the exotic shade of her eyes, the vallaslin swirling across her brow and chin. He thought of Ameridan, and Shartan, their forgotten stories and hacked-off ears. And that wasn’t even that long ago, by his standards. He thought of Elvhenan, their words and stories and traditions. All gone. All lost. His people were little more than ghosts, the pale memories of a dream. If he wanted a reminder that the steady march of time changed people’s perceptions, he need only look into a mirror. It was unlikely that history would be any kinder to her than it had been to him.

“It is…a distinct possibility,” he admitted heavily.  

Aili's expression soured further.

"I don't care about renown," she muttered, "I don't care about getting invited to fancy parties, or offered expensive gifts as signs of friendship from people I've never even met. I don't care about nobles and games and political power. I don't care about any of that. I never did."

She pulled in a deep shaky breath.

"But…if this is something I have to do… If the 'Inquisitor' is who I have to be, then I want to be seen as what I am. I want people to remember where I came from. I know it would be naïve to think they'd get everything right, but to know my home and my race…" she gave him a worried glance, "Is that really too impossible to hope for?"

"It is rare enough for someone who knows us to see us as we truly are," Solas replied apologetically, "Facts become stories. Lines blur, words change with each retelling, shifting things into whatever the listeners need to hear. It is the way real people with flaws and failings are honed into heroes. And villains. Many people who have met you will speak of you as you are, but there are plenty of those who already do not approve of the idea that Andraste's chosen might be an elf. A Dalish elf, of all things. The Chantry has always told them that your people are despised by Maker, after all."

"He's not too crazy about mages either," Aili grumbled, "I have been reminded several times by numerous people that I am basically unpalatable on every possible front."

"Not to me," Solas told her with a faint smile, "I am sorry to be incapable of offering much in the way of comfort on this particular topic, however. I do not wish to lie to you."

"I wouldn't ask you to," Aili sighed, though her melancholy seemed to have abated somewhat. She shook her head slightly, as if to shake away the remnants of her solemnity, scattering raindrops in the process, and finally rose to her feet.

She took both of his hands in hers, smiling up at him with a distinct playfulness.

"So, if I am to be the new Ameridan, does that make you my Telana?" she wondered, "She was an elvhen Dreamer, just as you are. You must admit, there are an astounding amount of parallels. What strange fortunes the Creators weave for us all." 

 "A morbid thought indeed, considering their fates," Solas hummed. "I certainly hope we fare better than they did."

"It wouldn't take much," Aili noted dryly. "Although, I admit, I have a hard time picturing you allowing yourself to bleed out just so you could try and find me in the Fade. You are far too practical."

She gave his fingers a squeeze. Teasing.

"Oh?" Solas returned lightly, "I think you might be surprised. You are much harder to do without than you imagine."

“Sweet talker,” Aili grinned, stepping into his arms and shivering a little from the cool dampness of their clothing. “But regardless of how similar we might seem to the former Inquisitor and his paramour, we already have a decided advantage over them.”

“Is that so?” Solas asked softly, smiling down at her in turn.

“It is,” she insisted, going up on her tiptoes to plant a light kiss on his chin, “Because I have already decided that our story is going to have a happy ending.”

A few heartbeats of silence passed between them; with nothing to be heard but the hiss of rain and the sound of approaching thunder. It would be storming in earnest in a few minutes. The night painted strange shadows across her lover’s face, and Aili began to feel the faintest prickle of doubt low in her gut.

“Solas?”

“Forgive me,” he answered a moment later, shaking his head slightly as though to rid himself of his thoughts, “I fear my mind slips too easily toward melancholy. Thinking only on the ways something precious might be lost robs us of the pleasures of the present. It does no good to dwell on such things.”

“It’s alright,” Aili said, reaching up to softly touch his cheek, “With a hole in the sky and some crazy darkspawn Magister on the loose, I can see why you might be having problems being optimistic about the future.”

“I am afraid that I am not an overly optimistic person, even if the current factors were removed from the equation,” he admitted ruefully. He allowed himself to lean into her touch, closing his eyes briefly and letting out a long breath. “I suppose that is something else I should work on. I would like…to look towards the days ahead and see the same kinds of possibilities that you do.”

“Well, wanting those possibilities is the first step, don’t you think?” she asked, a smile returning to her face, “If this were the Fade, we could simply will such a future into existence.”

"Unfortunately, such blatant displays of power tend to attract the attention of demons," Solas replied with a faint smirk. 

 Aili heaved an exaggerated sigh, but her eyes were bright with amusement.

"You know, I am beginning to think that Bull might have a fair point about them," her smile twitched up into a smirk, "They always seem to ruin the best dreams."

"Not all of them," he answered in kind, his face dipping perilously close to her own, "Once, not so long ago, I dreamt of Haven as it had been before Corypheus and his army came. The sky was bright and clear, and the snow was crisp and cool against my skin. I met a spirit who was seeking knowledge, and the truth of their purpose and the earnestness of their resolve shone with such a fierce intensity that for one moment I thought it might have blinded me. I dared not look away, however, for such spirits are rare indeed, and I feared that if I averted my gaze, even for an instant, I might turn back and find that it had gone."

He kissed her then, deep and soft and warm. Not as desperate or hurried as he had during the dream of Haven, but still somehow just as hungry. Wrapping her up in his arms and pulling her close until even the raindrops had a hard time finding the space to fall between them.

 When he finally pulled back enough to let her breathe, Aili was rosy-cheeked and slightly rumpled. Her eyes shone up at him out of the darkness like a pair of gemstones, her smile wide and knowing. Any trace of worry momentarily banished by the sheer force of her affections.

"Am I really so much like a spirit?" she wondered jokingly, "Or have you just been getting romantic tips from Varric again? Should I see if Cole can teach me his trick of disappearing from people's minds? I can think of a few situations where that would be incredibly useful. Most of them involve dodging Orlesian nobles and their inane gossip."

Solas snorted.

"If I was in need of romantic guidance, I am afraid Master Tethras would not be anywhere near my first choice of solicitor," he informed her with a low chuckle, "As for the other questions, I do believe that you share more similarities with Cole than you might suspect. They are…not easy to explain in simple terms, however. But bright and shining as you are, your own concept of yourself is attached to your physical form, so I fear you would have a difficult time disappearing from view."

"That sounds an awful lot like a challenge to me," she laughed, leaning back into him, mischievous intent written clearly into her expression.

"Hardly," Solas huffed with a particular mix of exasperated fondness that Aili always seemed to inspire. His arms tightened on her after a moment, a touch of seriousness seeping back into his voice. "Besides which, I would greatly prefer that you did not disappear from view."

“Ah, well, if that’s really what you want,” she grinned, cupping his face to guide him down towards her mouth. She stopped just shy of kissing him, eyes as bright as lodestars cutting through the haze of night and rain. She nearly did look like a spirit.

“I supposed you’d better catch me, then.”

That was all the warning she afforded him before her form flashed with the blue-white glow of magic, and she fade-stepped a few dozen feet away onto another enormous tree limb. Rift magic was not Aili’s area of expertise, and her aim was…less than precise. She wobbled slightly on the branch, and Solas called out to her in wordless distress, hurriedly employing the same technique she had used to chase after her.

He had barely closed his hand around her forearm before she shifted away again, leaving a nothing but a hazy blue outline in her wake and laughing all the while.

“You’ll have to do better than that, Solas!” Aili called back to him.

“Vhenan, it is raining!” Solas complained.

A great boom of thunder and a blinding crackle of lightning chased after the sound of his voice.

“It’s not raining, it’s storming!” Aili corrected him blithely, still popping in and out of view across the canopy of trees surrounding the campsite. “But you can go back inside the tent if you’re not having any fun!”  

“Why are you always doing things like this?” he asked with a sharp exhale of breath, “We both know you are going to catch cold and spend the next three days sneezing on me.”

“You like it!” Aili giggled, fade-stepping close enough to make him lunge for her and slipping away again before he could grab hold. “It keeps you on your toes. It’s good for you.”

“And,” she continued from a far-off tree limb, “If you are really so concerned about me getting sick, maybe you should hurry up and take me someplace warm before the chill sets in.”

Solas sighed again, resigned to the fact that in order for either of them to get back to bed in the near future, he was going to have to play along with her. As usual.

“Then you should ready yourself, Inquisitor,” he said as the magic he deftly pulled from the Fade washed him in its pale blue light. Aili paused her own furtive dance just long enough to grin back at him, brighter than a flash of lightning. And then the game was on.

Her mastery of the spell was less than perfect, but what she lacked in aptitude, she made up for with unbridled enthusiasm. He had more experience, but she was unpredictable, doubling back and pushing the limits of how far the magic would carry her. What had begun with unrepentant teasing on her end, and a prickle of aggravation on his, soon became a buoyant chase rife with genuine merriment that not even Solas could hold himself back from. In this moment, they were light and free and fearless. Their mingled laughter bubbled over the sounds of the storm, bare toes slipping on wet moss and leaves as the two of them weaved through the darkness of the canopy like a pair of fireflies. Skin luminous with magic and the fierce joy of living. The wonder of loving. Dazzling as the lightning torn sky, and twice as fleeting.

It nearly felt like a dream of the days before. When there was no Veil. No Blight. And his name was not quite so synonymous with villainy.

He almost did not want it to end.   

It did, of course, as all things must. Aili’s foot slipped. Solas materialized behind her a half second later, pulling her to his chest before she began to fall in earnest. She spun in his embrace, flung her arms about his neck, and kissed him like she was drowning. She was freezing cold and sopping wet, and it was absolutely glorious.

He was less disappointed with this ending than anticipated.

“Vhenan,” he murmured against her lips as Aili seemed to do her level best to pull the very air from his lungs, “I am not opposed to continuing- Mmph! -continuing this, but perhaps we should return to our tent first?”

“Too far,” Aili informed him breathlessly, her thin icy fingers working their way up the back of his linen shirt, making him hiss at the cold, “Much too far.”

Solas chuckled despite himself, doing his best to guide her farther away from the edge of the branch they had landed on and back toward the relative safety of the tree’s trunk. Aili did not make it easy, clinging to him like a lamprey and doing everything in her power to wriggle her way beneath his clothing, even while continuing to kiss him senseless. Their footsteps were awkward and bumbling in the semidarkness, tripping and sliding along in a highly undignified manner, but it was hard to care when it was just the two of them. Both still riding high on the thrill of their pretend hunt, eager to be close and touching. Here, in the shelter of the trees and the cover of night, there was nothing but the sounds of the storm beyond the veil of leaves, the rain singing out like a lover’s sigh, and the thunder mimicking their racing heartbeats.

It felt almost like a shrine; ethereal and divine. It smelled crisp and fresh as water, and newly churned earth. A pair of lovers painted with the sapphire shades of midnight sifting through the leaves. A place of devotion and worship meant solely for them.

 Aili’s skin was still cold, but everything between them was almost unbearably warm. She fell back against the moss-covered wood of the tree’s trunk with a dull thud, tugging him after her. He cupped her face between his hands as he kissed her, soft and desperate. The dripping locks of her hair spilling over his fingers like liquid silver. She laughed into his mouth as he pressed himself flush against her, feeling the firmness of his apparent desire caught between them.

“I see you have finally run out of objections,” she noted, utterly delighted.

“I am certain I could locate a few more, if I tried,” Solas quipped, but his tone was deep and melting, his mouth blazing a warm trail of lingering nips and kisses along the column of her throat. His threat hardly seemed sincere. The sound he made when she unlaced his breeches and reached for him seemed honest enough, however.

“Probably,” she hummed, running her fingers over him with firm practiced movements, “But as the Inquisitor, my schedule is very busy, you know. I’m afraid I currently have my hands full dealing with one of my most trusted advisors, so, unfortunately, your objections will have to wait.”

“Would you prefer it if I submitted them to you in writing, instead?” he wondered, pausing just long enough to suck a dark bruise just below her ear, and tugging her leggings down over her hips.

“Absolutely not,” Aili hissed, scraping her teeth across the place where his collar bones peeked out from beneath the damp fabric of his shirt, “I enjoy the sound of your voice, even when you are complaining. Everything you have to tell me should be done face to face, when possible.”

Her skin was slick with rain, and when he slipped his fingers into her, Solas found that she was already slick there, too. Her grip tightened on him and she gasped, rocking her hips against his hand as he groaned into her hair. Struggling to stay upright.

“And you would have me, even here?” Solas asked softly, his voice thick with want and catching just a bit with an air of wonder.

“Geography hardly has anything to do with it,” Aili snorted, making a brave attempt to somehow keep touching him while also wriggling the rest of the way out of her pants. When she at last got them down to her claves, she raised a knee and Solas obligingly pulled them the rest of the way off over her leg, leaving her free to hitch it up over his hip. He leaned his full weight into her as he continued to thrust into her touch, moving to grip her thigh and hold her to him, keeping her close enough to count the damp lashes around her bright eyes. She hummed in approval, biting at his lower lip, egging him on. “You see me as I truly am, and I have it on good authority that that makes you a precious commodity.”

“Precious, am I?” he said it with a laugh, but there was a softness in his eyes.

“Unique in all the world,” she insisted confidently, “Which means you should be cherished at every available opportunity.”

He crooked his fingers as he moved them inside of her, and she moaned loud enough to echo through the trees, despite the storm around them.

“As should you, my heart,” he told her, his lips pulled up into a self-satisfied grin. 

“Then I suggest we talk less, and cherish more,” Aili rasped out, taking his face in both of her hands and kissing him savagely. Solas met her fervor with equal passion, but not so much that he surrendered his entire mind to it, though it was sorely tempting. One of them had to make sure they did not fall out of the tree, after all.

He grasped her other thigh, lifting her up as she hooked her legs around his waist, her pants still dangling from one ankle. His back was still chilled, exposed to scattered gusts of wind and sprays of rainfall from the leaves above them, but every place their bodies met was nearly burning. Even their breaths mingled together in little visible puffs of warmth that the storm could not subdue.

She moved her hands to his shoulders, digging her fingers into the wet linen with enough force to tear. He rolled his hips against her a few times, trying to find the proper angle to slide home. The sweater she had stolen from him had slipped back down when he had moved his hands away, blocking him from her. Solas nearly let out a curse.

“Ma ghilana,” he breathed against her ear instead, deep and hoarse and close to begging.

Aili seemed past the point of being capable of speech, her head bobbed once in understanding before she turned her face to kiss him again. Her left arm snaked its way about his neck, anchoring, while the other reach down between them, scrabbling at the sodden cloth still sticking to their skin, and doing her best to guide him to the place she wanted him most.

When he felt the silken heat of her against the tip of his cock, Solas paused. He knew Aili did not mind a bit of roughness, but he had his limits. Their position was precarious, and she was not as prepared for him as she could be. He could tell she wanted this, and he would not deny her, but he would not hurt her either, so he took a moment to breathe.

 He entered her in a single smooth slow stroke. Aili gasped into his mouth, gripping him fiercely and attempting to drag him impossibly closer. He kept his cool, though, holding them both as still and steady as possible until he was certain they were not about to slip, and he knew without a doubt that she was ready for more.

He could feel their hearts hammering in tandem, frantic and heady as the chase that had brought them here.

“Move,” Aili demanded after a few moments, rocking herself into him as best she could and biting at his lips again.

Solas moved.

His hips snapped, and his fingers gripped tight enough to bruise. His face dropped to the crook of her neck, and he filled his lungs with the heathery smell of her every time he drew breath. It was grounding, and marvelous, and real. More than any dream he could have conjured.

Aili fought to give as good as she got. Her range of movement was limited, but she pressed herself into him with everything she had. Meeting him at every thrust. She mapped him with her hands, raking her fingernails across his shoulder blades and digging into the muscles of his biceps. She sunk her teeth into the soft meat of his earlobe, and was treated to a low rumbling moan.

It felt as though she had poured liquid fire into his ear. It burned a path from his head straight down to the pit of hist stomach, setting him alight like a spark amidst tinder. He nearly came right then.

“Aili,” he panted, and this time he truly was pleading, although he couldn’t say for what. She clenched around him, and his rhythm stuttered, nearly sending him to his knees. But he would not let it end this way. He would not take his pleasure first.

Solas hefted her higher up the tree, slightly changing the angle of her hips, and the next time he drove into her, he was rewarded with a high breathless keen of ecstasy. Her back bowed, and her head tipped back, mouth moving in a silent litany as she crested the wave of her climax. She slumped into him afterwards, shuddering and boneless, and still trying to kiss him. He was so close to his own end that his magic felt like it was simmering beneath his skin, longing for the same release that he did.

Aili made a soft sound of not-quite discomfort, and he stilled.

“Just a little tender,” she whispered tiredly, guiding his lips back to hers, “Keep going.”

Solas did as he was bidden, keeping the angle she preferred, but slowing his tempo. The storm was finally beginning to recede, and his fervor seemed to ebb with it, turning more towards savoring. She was warm in his arms now, the little hitched breaths and contented sighs slipping past her lips blending perfectly with the gentle hiss of rainfall the surrounded them.  

He pressed another kiss into the curve of her neck. Admiring the strong steady beating of her heart beneath his lips. She called his name softly, and he came undone. It hit him unexpectedly hard, a bright burst of light behind his eyes as his whole body quaked with the force of it. Gasping for air and suddenly almost giddy. The dizzying delight of letting go.

He carefully set her down, and there were a few awkward moments of rearranging stiff and somewhat bruised limbs. She slipped her arms around his waist to keep him close, and he leaned back into her, his nose buried in her hair and his lips resting against her forehead. They stood together in silence for a while, simply enjoying the quite sounds of the nighttime forest and the comfort of a lover’s touch.

“At least…” Aili began quietly, but then paused, as if suddenly unsure. Solas brushed his fingers across her cheek. She leaned into him and sighed, finding her resolve. “I was thinking that… Even if no one else remembers me as I am, at least I would know that you do. You’ve never put me up on some pedestal. You know that I am Dalish, and an elf, and a mage. You know that I try with all my heart to make choices that are fair and benefit as many people as I can, but I make mistakes. Big ones, sometimes. You know that I hate oysters, and I’m always tripping on things, and stealing desserts from the kitchen. You know that I’m silly enough to play tag in the rain at night.”

She peered up at him with open sincerity, her eyes flecked with the stars just beginning to peek through the canopy above them.

“And you know that I love you,” she continued, her fingers reaching up to touch his chin with a soft air of devotion. “You will remember that, won’t you?”

Solas kissed her. Tender and aching, like a fist closing around his speeding heart. He squeezed her hands, pressing his eyes shut against a faint pinprick of tears.

“Forever,” he promised.    

Aili beamed at him.

“Come on, we should probably head back to camp before they send out a search party,” she said, moving past him just enough to begin the process of pulling her leggings back on. “I…think your sweater might be in need of a wash, though.”

Solas laughed.

“Then I supposed we are fortunate that it is raining.”

[negansbackdoorwhore]

Art of Pursuasion

Warnings: rough smut, teasing, dirty talk, swearing

Negan woke you up when he tried to be careful by pulling his arm away from your sleeping body. You groaned as you leaned on your arm and watched him getting dressed.

“Go back to sleep Y/N.”

“Don’t leave yet.” You whined and stood with the sheet wrapped around your nude body. You made your way to him trying to put his shirt on, he laughed as your arms wrapped around his stomach and kissed at his shoulder tattoo.

“I wish I could stay but I have shit to handle baby.”

“Pretty please don’t go.”

You say with a pout as Negan turned to see you looking adorable in his eyes. He leaned down to kiss you softly and grabbed his boots. You still frowned as he continued dressing himself, you decided he needed a reason to stay.

You dropped the sheets to fully show your naked body and he ignored you. Before he could slip his boots on you kneeled in front of his legs. He watched you as your hands went to spread his thighs apart. His hand tried to stop you but you stood and took his wrists to have his palms covered your tits. Negan’s breath hitched as he began to massage them and moaned as you kissed him.

“Fuck, I really have to go baby.”

“Are you sure about that cowboy?”

His eyes shut as your hand palmed him at the zipper of his jeans.

“Baby c’mon the guys are going to pissed off if I’m late.”

“So what? I thought you were the boss around here.”

You say in his ear and move back to your knees and undo his zipper. He bit his lip as you pulled his cock out of his tight boxers. At first you stroked him and heard let out a frustrated groan with his impatience to use your mouth.

“If you don’t put that pretty mouth on my fucking dick already.” He moaned when you put him between your lips and fully took him. His fingers going into your hair and guided you along his shaft. You mouth watering at the taste of him and giving enough lubrication to make him slick. Negan lifted his shirt above his head to toss across the floor, his breath getting heavy and he leaned back on his elbows and his head thrown back.

“I fucking love that dirty mouth of yours baby. Oh yeah, take me deeper, I wanna feel your throat.”

You did as he wanted and deep throated him while cupping his balls to massage them. He bit his lip and groaned as you looked up at him to lick his tip.

“Shit. You look so good like that. C’mere.” He motioned with his hand and you crawled onto his lap to have him pull you into a sloppy kiss. His hands cupping your ass before giving a hard slap causing you to gasp between kisses. He smirked and moved his hands to pull his jeans off before kicking them off his ankles. He went back to kissing you and you wanted to continue sucking him off.

“Here baby, I wanna feel that mouth around me again. But not like that, move thar pretty ass over my face.”

You felt your clit throbbing at the image you put in your head. Negan moved toward the center of the bed and you situated over his body as your ass was in his face. His hands caressed your ass as he admired the sight while you were taking him into your mouth again. He held your hips and lowered your pussy onto his tongue. Your moans vibrated on him, his tongue running from your entrance to your clit. You pulled away from him as he took your clit in between your lips to suck. It felt so good and you continued giving him pleasure as well.

You both stayed like this for a while and Negan then moved his hips away from your mouth. You whined out as he stopped and looked at him over your shoulder.

“Move down so that I can fuck this pussy baby.”

His body sitting up straight and your hips hovered over his wet cock. Your back against his chest and you both moan as you take him fully. His lips kissing your shoulders and letting out a shaky breath as your hips grinded on him.

You moved to knees and moved your hips on his cock, Negan watched you closely and dug his fingers into your waist.

“Yeah baby. Keep that good shit up, your pussy feels fucking amazing.”

He whispered against your neck and you whimpered as your body began taking over when you slamming onto him.

“Fuck yes. I bet you’re loving that dick inside you. Yeah you are babycakes.”

He began sucking hickies along your shoulder and neck and your hand reached to hold onto his hair. He lifted you off him for a second so you could turn to face him. His eyes watching himself disappear into your cunt again. Negan lowered his head to suck one of your tits and your legs feeling like they were going give out. Your orgasm was approaching and his tongue moving into your cleavage as his nails scratched your thighs.

“Oh baby. I’m almost there, you better fucking come with me. Or fucking else.”

He growled into chest and holding your middle tightly by his arms. You whimpered as you held onto his shoulders and his teeth biting on your throat. Your orgasm hit hard and you cried out his name. He growled as he came inside you and his hot breath against your neck. Your body trembling at the after shock when he pulled out ans his arms held you securely.

“Oh yeah. That’s it ride that shit.” He whispered as your body convulsed in the afterglow. He wore that sexy smile and you looked up at him with sweat covering each other’s bodies.

“You know you’re fucking hot as shit like this.”

He kissed your forehead and laid on his back and pulled you down with him. You giggled as your fingers scratched at his beard.

“So are you staying?”

“Fuck yeah I am, wait here a minute while I go talk to Simon. He’ll take over for the day.”

“Okay, hurry back.”

Negan stood up to put on a his shirt and sweatpants while he covered you with a blanket.

“Don’t want anyone seeing my goodies.”

You just rolled your eyes before leaning down to kiss you one last time.

“Stay like this, I’ll be ready for round two when I get back.”

Taglist:

@iluvneganandjamie

[f1carsgovroomvroom]

THE ENCOUNTER

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x Fan (Charles is a big part of this story too, and MAYBE he will be involved with the fan, idk yet)

Warnings: a bit of smut towards the end, Pierre being a bit arrogant

Word count: 3k

Notes: I had to build up a little bit the story as I want this to have so plot to it and some smut 🌶 but the next part is probably pure smut. Not sure if I’m sorry about how smutty this will be.

Part two is now up

Some days are meant for staying indoors and drinking hot chocolate but that’s not how my day will go, no, because I have to take my neighbour’s dog out for a walk. Don’t get me wrong, the dog is a cutie but the weather in England is not. It’s been raining the whole morning but it stopped earlier so at least I will not get completely soaked. Luna is already excited before we even get outside but once she is outside she is even happier. A car stops and the driver rolls the window down.

“Do you know where number 26 is? I have been looking for it for 5 minutes.” The driver looked somewhat familiar but even though it rained, the sun was out and I could hardly see him properly.

“Yes, it’s kind of hidden. Let me show you the way.” I did not finish my last word and it started pouring. “Wait a second here, I will take the dog back inside so she doesn’t get sick. I’ll be back.”

The driver nodded and I ran back in the building, got Luna inside, luckily she was out just an hour or two before while it was of course raining and I had to clean her up, so this was more of a treat than a need.

Getting back outside, it was raining even more, I should’ve taken an umbrella, but here I am.

“I know parents say to not get in the car with a stranger but would you like to get in the car and show me the way?” The stranger said.

My mother wouldn’t be proud of me for not thinking about it twice and jumping in that car.

As I turn to see the driver I finally realise that it was a familiar face. It was no other than Charles Leclerc, the F1 Ferrari driver.

“So I assume you know who I am if you just made thar face.” He said, smiling awkwardly.

“Yes, I mean, I didn’t really realise until I got in the car.”

“Please don’t post about my location online, I really want peace and quiet for a few days and I am trying to keep a low profile here.”

“Oh, don’t worry I’d never do something like that. I can give you a few tips where to go where not many people will go so you don’t have to be in the house 24/7 to keep a low profile.”

“That would actually be great.” Charles said and then he looked at the road ahead.

“Okay, drive straight here and then to the right.” I continued to guide him until we got to the new built house that many people in the area had their eyes on it but it was sold before people even saw it completely built. It was in a hidden area almost, no one has to drive down that road as it is the only house and it’s a dead end.

“Thank you so much!” He said as I was unfastening my seatbelt and getting ready to leave. “Look, I could do with a friendly neighbour so maybe you wanna come inside, have a coffee and you can teach me how to hide around this city?” Charles said, and look at me expecting an answer. I would be stupid to refuse.

“Of course. That sounds great but you’ll have to take 1 selfie with me that I will keep to myself and not post anywhere.”

He laughed. “I will get you a whole set from our merch with my signature on every single piece.”

I laughed as well and we got out of the car. He led the way to the house and it was a nice new built, especially for England where every house looks similar to the one next to it. The house had some more modern design to it, which was uncommon in England.

Once in the house he asked me what I’d like and I asked for a white coffee. He quickly made the drinks explaining that he had his team come and get the house ready for him to have a bit of a break during the summer. He will spend 2 weeks between Austria and France here just as a trial before the actual summer break.

“A friend will be coming over soon. Well, you might know him, Pierre Gasly.”

“Can I get to meet him? I will keep it cool.” The fan girl came out of me.

“Of course”, he laughed, “he will be happy to know that we will have someone to guide us around so we can be as much undercover as possible.”

Charles excused himself and went upstairs to get changed and see the house. I was drinking my coffee and scrolling through Instagram when the doorbell rang. Charles rushed downstairs and opened the door to Pierre who was carrying 2 big luggage. Was I surprised he had that much stuff? No.

They started speaking in French which was not my strong point at all and then Pierre noticed me. He asked a question which I did not understand because it was in French and then Charles interrupted him.

“Pierre, this is Yasmin. I met her earlier and she was kind enough to not post about my location and actually she is willing to help us stay undercover.”

Pierre didn’t bother to answer in English and continued to say something to Charles in French, but I could tell he was annoyed.

“You might think I am a fan girl who has an agenda but that’s not true and if you’d like, you can check my phone. I would never do anything to hurt the peace and quiet that you can get here as I could never imagine having no freedom and privacy.” I said while Pierre looked at me as unimpressed as humanly possible.

He raised an eyebrow and took a few steps towards me. “Okay, everyone deserves a chance. Don’t make us regret it.”

I smiled at him and Charles looked in my direction with a look that said “we managed to tame the beast”.

“I’ll let you two catch up and I’ll be back later to show you the closest shop and a few places where no one goes to.”

The two of them agreed and as I was leaving Pierre came after me.

“Can I get your number? So we can contact you in case… you know, we got a problem.” He pushed the phone towards me and I took it, typing in my number. “Ring yourself so you have my number too and message me before you come so you don’t have to wait for us.”

He seemed a lot nicer than the first impression he gave me less than 30 minutes ago. Nice but ordering me around like I had no choice. Did I even want a choice? I did as he said and saved his number. I was surprised that he gave me his actual number as it was an Italian number, and I doubt he got an Italian number in England.

I got home and the fan girl inside me died for a second realising I have Pierre Gasly’s number. I decided to keep it calm as they both seem like genuinely nice people. Especially Charles who is even more of a sweetheart than I imagined.

I was getting ready to leave after my neighbour came back home and I took Luna back and I messaged Pierre. I knocked on the door 20 minutes later and Charles opened the door, with a shirt half undone, looking like a Greek God. God help me not lose my mind and jump on this man. I beg you.

“We are still getting ready. Well, I am ready once I finish this”, gesturing at the buttons “But Pierre… he is a different story.”

I laughed, expecting nothing else. Charles’s phone rang and he excused himself, picking up in Italian.

A few minutes pass and Pierre was still nowhere to be seen.

“My team wants me to go to a meeting in 45 minutes. I will have to leave you two to do a bit of shopping and not get Pierre killed by his fans or even worse, hooking up with random girls.”

“That’s a shame, I will show you around another time.” I said, genuinely disappointed as I would love to get to know him more and see him in a normal environment.

“I got your number from Pierre. I will send you a message so you have mine, too. Save it and let’s make sure we get a day to show me around. You’ll be my friend around here.”

For a second I wanted to pinch myself to make sure I was not dreaming, but it was the reality. I nodded and he went upstairs and spoke to Pierre.

“He will be down in 5 minutes. If not, third room down the hallway on the right.”

I laughed again and he quickly made his way out.

5 minutes passed, 10 minutes passed and at 15 minutes I decided to go upstairs to see what Pierre is doing.

I knock on the door once, no answer, twice, no answer. I open it slightly and the room is empty, so I enter.

“Pierre?” No answer. “Hello? Are you here?”

And I feel a hand on my shoulder from behind that makes me jump. I turn around and he is wearing a white t-shirt with a nice pair of jeans, just the perfect shade to match the white t-shirt. The typical large one that does not do any justice for his muscles.

“Stalker?” He asks smiling.

“Of course, I was stalking you. Interesting you have 50 t-shirts in the same shade of white. So impressive and interesting, so unexpected of you.” I said jokingly.

He laughed and God damn, if I didn’t become his biggest fan after hearing that stupid laugh in real life.

“I don’t feel like going out apart from the grocery shopping. I’ll probably just watch a movie or something. You’re welcome to join me after we are back.”

I didn’t say anything because he probably wants to watch it alone but the offer sounded good. He led the way to his rental car and we headed to the nearest supermarket. He was wearing a hat, not in the Pierre way, which was a shame and to be honest, not many people actually looked his way. We quickly made our way through the shopping list, picking up a few bits and bobs that weren’t exactly on the list but Pierre is like a little child. Wanting to try everything.

We bagged and paid everything and off we went.

“I’m sorry to be the mood destroyer.” He said, while driving.

“What?” I said, not really following what he meant.

“Not wanting to go out. I really don’t want to be recognised.” He sounded genuine and I felt so bad for him because it must feel so bad to not be able to get any kind of privacy or freedom to do what you want.

“Oh no, it’s not a problem. Honestly. I totally get that. I’m not a celebrity and I prefer to spend my time away from people. I couldn’t imagine the anxiety I’d have to go out if everyone knew me. Or expected something from me.”

“It’s not that, but people are tiring and it’s selfie after selfie and I cannot even enjoy 1 drink. I love all my fans but sometimes it’s good to have a break and just be around people I really know.”

Hint taken. Not staying for the movie.

“Of course. I can imagine.” And that’s how the conversation died.

I helped him take the bags inside and put everything away.

“Alright, then I will see you…. When I see you.”

“Stay for the movie, it’d be nice to have some company.”

“Umm…Not to sound like I’m turning your words against you, but you don’t really know me and I know you’d prefer to be by yourself.”

“I wouldn’t have asked you to stay if I would’ve preferred that. You helped us today, so stay. We can have some food and some drinks and Charles will be back soon.”

I agreed and he put me in charge to choose a movie. No pressure. My movies taste might literally give him the ick but whatever. I go with an original because why not. Léon. Meanwhile he prepared some fancy cocktails that looked like a professional has made them, together with some snacks we grabbed from the shop.

“Pierre is a man of many talents.” I joked while inspecting my drink.

“Well, I have been told that quite a lot.” He winked at me, and I fainted about 4 times in my head.

We sat down and he admitted to never watching that movie but by the time we saw half of the movie he admitted it was a good one.

I couldn’t help myself but look at him because the man looked better in real life than in pictures.

“The tv screen is there.” He pointed forwards.

“The view here is better.” I said as I laugh.

He takes the remote, pauses the movie and turns his head my way.

“Ask away.”

“Really?” I say surprised.

“Yes, anything.”

“Favourite movie, favourite song, favourite food, an embarrassing thing about Charles, why do you dislike Estie bestie, opinion on all the drivers.”

He laughs. “Damn, you’re quite curious. Food, probably carbonara currently, but it changes often. Favourite movie and song are questions I’ll never be able to answer but I can show you my current playlist and my latest watched movies on Netflix. Esteban is a long story for another time and most drivers are genuinely nice and I don’t actually have any problems with any of them. Charles by far is the best out there and the most humble, but so is Max, he is one of the most underrated friend because he seems tough but he is a teddy bear.” He laughs. “Do I get to ask you questions too?”

I nod. “If you really want to. I’m not that interesting.”

“What’s your job?”

“I’m a management accountant. Boring, I know.”

“Office girl.” He raises his right eyebrow. “Are you a fan of F1?” I nod, knowing he probably will think I am a big girl fan. “Favourite driver?”

“That’s unfair but Leclerc. Ferrari, always.” He smiles. “However, I do like the ex-Redbull drivers too. Vettel, Gasly. You might know them.”

“Oh, that dickhead, Gasly. Arrogant guy. Really good in the rain. Always praying for the rain to come.”

“I know, right?” I laughed as he started laughing.

“Good in wet conditions.” He realised how that came across and quickly stopped. “Not like that, oh God, if only I knew when to shut my mouth.”

“Don’t worry, you do seem quite good in wet conditions. Like the rain, not other things. Not that you don’t look good in that way. I need to stop talking.”

He laughs but my embarrassment doesn’t go away.

“I have never had complains about that. Unfortunately, or not so unfortunately I often make the conditions wet. But only during races I need to pray for that, the rest of the time I make it happen myself.” He winks and turns on the movie. “Watch the movie until the end, I am curious.”

We watched the movie until the end. Charles messaged both of us in a group chat to say he will be late as his team are organising a little meet and greet in London for during the summer break.

At the end of the movie we discussed the end, laughed at how similar we think and I, as a stupid girl, wanted to kiss this man so bad.

“Right, now I’ll really go.” I got up from the sofa before I get any ideas.

“Should we watch another one? Or do something else? Charles will be late and I’ll go crazy. Let’s play on the simulator.”

“I have no clue how to play.”

“I’ll show you.”

2 simulators were in the same room, one with a Ferrari logo and one with the Alpha Tauri.

Take the Ferrari, make Charles’s records worse because they are almost perfect. We didn’t really get to use the simulator because I mostly watched him drive and I was more impressed by him. His muscles were flexing so much as he was moving the wheel or pressing on the pedals.

After a while we went back downstairs and started to watch videos on how the drivers use the simulator. I stretched over him a bit to grab the remote to turn the volume up and our head hit as he moved forward.

“Sorry.” I say quickly, knowing damn well it was my fault.

He laughs, now our faces so close.

“It’s okay.” He smiles.”I really don’t want to mess this friendship but..” he stops talking and kisses me. In a million years I wouldn’t have imagined I would be kissing Pierre Gasly. He pulled me closer and out of instinct I ended up on his lap. There was no way on this planet I could’ve controlled and not started moving my hips.

“Fuck.” Pierre says, as our foreheads touch. “Look, I don’t know if it’s okay. Unless you want this too.”

I would be stupid to refuse but also I should refuse. However, my head had it’s own plan and I kissed him again. His hands went up my body, under my t-shirt and then landed back on my hips and then on my ass, pushing me back and forth, feeling him getting harder underneath me.

“I haven’t slept with someone for months after my breakup.” He admits. “So, you might get quite disappointed.”

“Shut up, Pierre.”

“Bossy. That’s probably the only time you’ll get to be bossy with me. I will give you the chance to back out now. I don’t think I can be sweet right now. You tempted me the whole day. I wanna fuck you.”

“Hopefully, you’re not only words and you’ll live up to your words.”

“Upstairs now. I don’t want Charles walking in on us.”

I stood up to go upstairs and Pierre slapped my ass.

“Take off your jeans first.”

I did as I was told and he picked them up. I started walking and he was behind me on the stairs. Another slap landed on my ass and then a kiss.

The second we entered his room, the door was locked and he turned to me. The man worked fast.

[touyasdoll]

Dabi is not a fuckboy it's a lie...

✨Dabi is a virgin✨

Thars it that's the headcanon

Oh my goodness but could you imagine being the one to sexually corrupt DABI?? Ahhh oh fuck, my brain hurts just thinking about it. BET. Here we gooo 😈

Virgin Dabi

Pairing: Dabi x f!reader

Genre: smut & a little fluff w/ civilian reader

Warnings: corruption kink, unprotected sex, daddy kink, breeding, degradation, choking, spitting, virginity loss

Of course he’s a virgin

A) who the hell is he letting get that close to him

& B) I love the man & he’s fine as hell, BUT I feel like he thinks he’s revolting and that no one would want to touch him anyway, so he steers clear of any physical human interactions

Reader as a LOV Member

You join the LOV & attract some attention, but you aren't interested in anyone but Dabi

He would make plenty of fuck boi remarks & talk a of shit for someone who’s never even seen a titty in person

“You couldn’t handle me, doll”

“If you had me, I’d ruin everyone else for ya”

“You got a nice pair on you though, bet you would look good wrapped around my cock”

And then one day you’re done tip-toeing around what you want and you’re like okay then. Go ahead. Fuckin’ ruin me, please, I’m literallyyy begging so hurry up and fuck me already

And he just 👁👄👁

To which you prod at him for getting so shy all of a sudden and then once you figure it out you’re just like, "Are--are you a fucking virgin?"

He tells you to stfu, otherwise he'll roast your ass

Obviously a sensitive little boy, deep down

You playfully taunt and tease him until he is about to literally flame you & then you promise you'll make it up to him by showing him exactly what he's missing

And he’s nervous as all hell, but he doesn’t wanna waste this opportunity so he follows you to your bedroom

“I can’t believe that I’m the lucky woman who gets to have you first,” you smirk, grabbing Dabi by his shirt to tug him close as you kick the door shut behind you.

“You breathe a word of this to any of these fucking assholes and I swear, you’ll live to regret it.” He cocked a warning brow as he stared down expressionlessly.

“Oh, shut up and take your clothes off,” you rolled your eyes, dismissing his thinly veiled embarrassment with a laugh. “Why would I tell anyone I fucked you?” You tugged your top off over your head with a playful wink in his direction.

“This how foreplay usually goes for you, sweetheart?” He shed his shirt, moving to work on his belt when you reached a hand out to stop him.

“Wait,” you hooked two fingers behind the leather strap, tugging on it as you brought yourself flush against him. “Is it foreplay that you want, baby? Because, I promise, I’m real good at that.”

You pressed the pads of your fingers onto his stomach, gently trailing them along the mixture of scarred and unmarred skin that was stitched together by cool, silver staples.

He shivered involuntarily, groaning at ghostly touch of your fingertips, “Fuck,” he sighed, turning his attention to your breasts as they pressed up against him, spilling slightly out of your cups.

“Tell you what,” you lean in, kissing his neck slowly in between whispers. “Since you,” kiss. “We’re so vulnerable with me,” kiss. “I’ll return the favor,” kiss.

You begin undoing his belt with one hand, bringing the other up to push into his hair, tugging his head to the side to expose the more tender spots of his neck as his hands grasp your hips, his digits pressing into the soft flesh as his breath becomes shakier.

“Lucky for you,” you continue, leaving a lingering kiss on top of his hammering pulse. “I like getting fucked like a whore,” kiss. “I’ll let you do damn near anything your filthy little brain can think up,” kiss. “And I’ll call you daddy while you do it,” kiss. “On two conditions.”

You lift your lips to his ear, sucking on his lobe gently before whispering, “You don’t hold back and you stuff me full of that sticky, sweet cum of yours when you’re done with me.”

His eyes fluttered shut as he groaned, rutting the tent in his pants against yours hips in an attempt to find some relief for his throbbing cock.

“Does that sound fair, Daddy?” you let out a breathy little moan in his ear as you tugged his pants down, wrapping your fingers around his thick cock.

///

“Please, Daddy,” you begged, “Lemme taste more of you. Wan’ it. Wan’ it bad,” you stuck your tongue out, mouth hanging open as you kneeled before him, placing his hand over your throat.

He took the reins without hesitation, his eyes becoming a shade more devious as he applied pressure to either side of your neck, holding your head back as he let a long string of saliva dangle from his mouth and drop into yours.

You moaned, making a show of tasting him on your tongue as you closed your lips, returning to bobbing you head along his length.

“Thank you, Daddy,” you kissed the head of his cock, stroking him languidly as a growl left his chest.

“Get up. On the bed,” his voice was hoarse and impatient.

“Yes, Daddy,” you obeyed, crawling onto the bed and laying back on your elbows, spreading your legs and exploring your own folds, parting your lips with your fingers as he watched, slack-jawed while he pumped his throbbing cock.

“You are a good little bitch, aren’t you?” He smirked, climbing atop you as he lined himself up with your entrance.

“Mm, only for you. Only here,” you sighed, expunging a needy whine from your lungs as you wriggled in anticipation, “Please, fuck me, Daddy. Use my cunt til you fill it up, please, Sir.”

“Shit, baby,” he groaned, thrusting into you with abandon. “Holy fuck, you feel so good.”

The next breath that he expelled was shaky. He was lost already, positively drunk on the feeling of your velvet walls sucking him in deeper each time he slipped inside you. He chased the euphoria too eagerly, feeling himself getting too close, too quickly.

He stopped abruptly, pulling his length from you as you whined, “Put it back, please. Need you to fuck me, oh please, Daddy.”

He shook his head, “Listen, I may be inexperienced, but I do know if you wanna cum too, I’m gonna need a sec.”

“Is that all? C’mere,” you tapped the space beside you in bed with a sweet, subservient grin as you sat up and waited for him to sit back against the headboard before sinking yourself onto his length.

You reveled in the sight of his eyes rolling back as you clenched around him, the sound of the grunt that left his throat sending you on a high as you slowly rolled your hips atop his.

“I’ll take care of you, Daddy,” you leaned forward, whispering against his lips as he whimpered beneath you, his large hands finding your ass, groping each cheek as his lust blown pupils met yours. Your lips collided, a smirk replacing your sweet grin as you whisper, “Gonna ruin every other pussy for you.”

Reader as a Civilian

He’s in some scummy bar & so are you

You’re really just trying to get some dick tonight

He’s just trying to get the fuck away from the shithole that the LOV is currently cramped up in

You’ve had just enough liquid courage to strike up a conversation

He’s shocked that someone like you is talking to him

Even more shocked by how forward you are

But he fucking loves it and he gets carried away bantering back and forth with you

Next thing you know, he’s back at your place with you and you’re ripping each other’s clothes off

And then the reality sets in that he has no fucking idea what he’s doing

You sense how nervous he is even though he’s trying to play it off so you ask what’s wrong

And you’re just so nice and you’re literally the first person who’s ever like genuinely wanted him so he caves and drops his guard for a millisecond to admit he’s inexperienced

So you promise to walk him through it & swear that you’re both gonna have a really great time

“Is something wrong?” You pull away to look up at him, keeping your arms around his neck as you search his wary expression.

“No, no.” He shakes his head, pressing his hand to your spine to pull you closer to him, closing the distance between your lips.

“Mm,” you sigh through your nose, running a hand over his chest, delicately passing over the staples as you retract once again to question him. “Are you sure? I’m sorry, I’m not trying to kill the mood or anything, I just—you seem like maybe something’s bothering you? Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?”

He tilts his head back, letting out a deep breath as he attempts to shake the nerves from his mind. But once he looks back at you, seeing the way you’re looking up at him, he can’t hold it in any longer.

You don’t look disgusted with him or every reluctant to be near him. You’re willingly sharing such an intimate moment with him and treating him with a kindness that he’d never encountered until now. For a moment, he feels more vulnerable that you asked about his well-being than the fact that he’s nearly naked in front of you.

“I, uh,” he hangs his head, mortified to be exposing himself on yet another level this evening to a perfect stranger. He makes the confession so quietly that you can barely hear the words as they leave his lips, “I’m actually a virgin.”

“Oh,” your eyebrows jump in surprise, but you quickly recover your soft expression, lifting a hand to his cheek, hovering it above his heated skin to wait for his permission, which he grants you in the form of a nod and you cup his face as gently as you can. “That’s okay, I don’t mind. I mean, if you don’t. I’ve never been anyone’s first time, so uh, this is kind of a first for me too?” You laugh quietly, “We can figure it out together, if you still wanna. I mean, even if it takes a few tries, I’m willing to bet we’ll both have plenty of fun.”

“Oh yeah?” He raises a playful eyebrow, giving you a glimpse of the first genuine smile that you’d seen on his face. “I guess we should give it a shot then, huh?”

You nod, taking one of his hands between both of yours as you lead him to your bed.

///

“Fuck, oh! Holy shit, yes! Yes! Yes!” You spasmed beneath him, desperately clinging to the bed sheets as he slammed his cock against your cervix, sending you off into your orgasm while he ran towards finding his own.

He couldn’t believe what he’d been missing out on all this time. It was incredible to see what he could do to you, how you would moan or sigh or whine at varying degrees depending on just where and how roughly he touched you.

He almost didn’t want to cum, it felt too fucking good having your walls clamp down around his cock, your ankles behind his head trapping his length so securely inside your already tight little pussy.

He couldn’t hold on for another second. His hands reached back, grabbing your ankles and ripping your legs from his shoulders, tossing them to their respective sides, leaving you splayed wide open for him as he leaned down, bracing himself with a hand on one side of you and an elbow on the other.

He buried himself in the crook of your neck, groaning and crying out as the pleasure got to be too much for him, “Gonna—g-gonna fucking cum, oh fuck,” he sputtered, his hips faltering before thrusting into you with renewed vigor as he finally burst.

He collapsed on top of you, leaving himself draped over your vibrating form as you both basked in the fog of the aftermath.

[ssxbutterscotch]

Your loves my drug; E.M

Eddie munson x female reader

Word count: idk

I didn't proof read 💀

Warnings: drug use, smut, daddy kink, praise kink, unprotected sex, ect.

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

You didn't want Eddie to have such a chokehold on you. You didn't want to be slumped over at you desk fantasizing over the freshly graduated drug dealer. But you just got so damn high with him.. to the point you couldn't tell if it was the hash or if it was him. His alluring lashes, and oh his pale, long ringed fingers. And the things he'd do to you with them...

You were desperate... and home alone for the week. One could only rationalize that this was the only humane idea. Which lead you to where you were now, withering and whining beneath eddie. Fucking. Munson.

You were bare naked on the silky lavender sheets that covered you four post bed, you hands running, scratch that, tugging on his long brown locks as his skill full mouth licked and lapped over your sensitive pussy, stopping his precise and calculated movements every so often to close his lips around your puffy clit and suck, for minutes on end, torturing you, the fun way ofc.

"Daddy, please fuck me-" your sentence was cut off as he inserted two of his long ass fingers into your cunt, curling them. Hitting thar oh so special spot.

"No, I don't think you deserve it. Calling me so fucking late at night. You dirty fuckin slut," he groaned as he felt your pussy tighten around his fingers, hissing at the feeling. He stopped. Moving away from you completely, shoving your panties back up your legs from your ankles.

"Eddie? What's wrong?" You asked desperately concerned. Did you piss him off? Was he teasing you? What the hell is going through his mind right now?

"Y/N.. come here." He spoke sitting in your wooden desk chair he had since moved against the floral wallpaper covered wall. You obliged, moving slowly towards him..nervously.

"Dont be scared lamb, I just wanna try somethin" he motioned for you to come closer with his hand before patting his lap.

You came to him and sat strattling his legs your feet resting of the cross Bara of the chair. He pulled his hair behin his shoulder and pointed to his neck with two of his fingers,"mark daddy baby. Just like I did to you.." He trailed off. So many thoughts rambled in your head you had no idea where this was going. But the thought of him..made you cream.

You inhaled deeply before kissing his neck, licking, nipping and sucking forming dark circles of love up his throat. Soft groans escaped his full pink lips. You could feel his hands groping your pillowy tits that hung bare near his chest. His fingers closed harshly around your left nipple, making you moan into the flesh of his neck.

He laughed,"aw poor baby can't take it can she," his hands moved from your nipples to your hips, he began rocking your hips back and forth against the denim tent that covered his visible hard on, "up" He said smacking a hand onto your clothed ass. You quietly got up and waited for further instruction.

You admired the tall nerdy man, as he undid his belt and striped to his boxers, and soon enough even those were gone. Eddie pumped his leaking member a few times before taking his seat back.

"Eddie, please...been so good.." you whined moving closer to him again, placing a hand on both of his shoulders. A hand came up to grip your face forcing you closer to him.

"Huh? Who the fuck is eddie? What's my name doll?"

"Daddy."

"Good girl." He said with a light tap to your face.

You teased his tip against your cunt before gently sliding him into you, a gasp leaving your mouth. He stretched you out. You gripped his shoulders as you started bouncing up and down on his dick, your wetness making it easier to take. When you found a rhythm you let every explicit, nasty word and thought leave your mouth.

"So fucking good daddy, gonna make me cum all over you.." you huffed out. You heard eddies's breathing become more ragged the faster you moved.

"Fuck baby you take me so well" He moaned, slapping your cutesy round ass as a hand came to your hips forcibly moving you, rocking your sex to his.

He didn't have anywhere to put his other hand. SO, logically he cupped one of your tits, pinching your sensitive nipples while putting the other inside his mouth.

You could feel you were close, you didn't know how much longer you could hold it in. 

"Daddy please let me cum, please I'm so closee" you begged on the sexy drug dealers hard cock, as rammed upward into you tight pussy, that clenched around his needy member.

"Me too baby, let it happen" He responded, breaking his lips grip around your other nipple, he sounded exhausted, you felt him twitch inside you. His pace quickened inside you. Your moans becoming louder and the chair rocking harder against the wall.

Keeping your pace, it only took a few more pumps to send you over the edge. "Fuck!" you screamed as you reached your climax, as he grunted his hips bucked finishing inside you.

You took a minute to xatch your breath falling forward resting your head on his shoulder. His calloused hand rubbing circles on your back, even still when you leaned up.

"Same time next week?" you asked with a dopy grin, reaching for the pre-roll and lighter that had since been left all alone on the desk to your left.

"Only if I get to take you on a date first" he responded moving your hair behind your ear.

"Fine" you huffed playfully, you leaned in giving him a quick peck on the lips, still naked, and flicking the lighter, taking a nice huff before passing it to Munson.

One date couldn't hurt, you thought.

[kakejiszka]

Studio Fun

This is my first Jake smut, hope you enjoy! :)

Disclaimer: contains lots of smut, you have been warned.

After changing at least six times, you still hadn't chosen among the three set of clothes that were lying on your bed, surrounded by several other pieces of clothing that together created a mess in your entire room, that smelled like citrus, makeup and despair.

You couldn't help but tremble with anxiety at the sight of yourself in your lingerie in the mirror, after all, the occasion you were dressing for was unprecedented. Should you wear a fancy dress? A slutty short skirt? A rocker leather jacket?

You had hit the jackpot: after a few weeks going out with Jake, he had finally invited you to meet the studio where he and his band rehearsed every week. And furthermore, you would meet his brother Josh and Sam and their friend Danny for the first time. You were nervous, as shit was starting to get serious.

Jake was living rent free in your head. Since the first time you saw him, your standards for men had never been the same, after all, no one could surpass his beauty, talent and charisma. To top it all, he was so romantic: on the three times you went out together, he managed to surprise you even with the simplest things. On your first date, you had coffee together, but he gifted you white roses. On the second date, you two took a walk around the town and he held your hand the entire time. On the third date, where it's socially acceptable to have sex, he took you to a super fancy restaurant with wonderful food. You even wore a beatiful black dress and made sure to wear your best lingerie. But, despite taking you home and kissing you by the door (for the first time), that was it. Maybe he was shy, maybe he wasn't ready, but you couldn't help but feeling a bit disappointed for not spending the night with him.

You chose the skirt. If there was even the smallest chance of you seducing him that day, you were willing to try. You finished the look with a black tank top, which was so tight you didn't feel the need to wear a bra, an oversized jeans jacket and black boots. You applied some eyeliner and mascara.

You called an Uber to the address Jake had texted you and quickly you arrived. Your phone vibrated in your jacket's pocket. "Be there in 15" his text said. You felt your legs tremble during the whole time you spent waiting for him, which seemed like an eternity. Despite all his qualities, it wasn't new to you that Jake Kizka's worst flaw was that he was always late.

You noticed the studio: it was very big and it seemed like a place full of quality equipment. The street where it was located was full of different records and musical instruments stores, what made you realize you were in a part in town where you could find everything that was music-related. As you waited for him, all the thoughts in the world were crossing your mind: what if he's not so into me? What if his brothers don't like me? What am I doing here? What kind of idea was this? Do I still have time to go back home?

"Hey!" you were surprised by a familiar voice behind you.

"Jake!" you said, nervousness resonating in your voice.

"Did I scare you?" he asked, giggling.

"No, I'm okay, it's just that..." you didn't even have to finish what you were saying so that he could understarnd the situation.

"There's nothing to be nervous about, they will love to meet you."

Jake gave you his hand and you held it, now feeling much safer and calmer than before.

You two entered the studio and followed through a long dark hallway. The walls were painted black and were full of band posters and stickers. There were other rooms there and you could hear other bands rehearsing inside them. Jake guided you to the end of the hallway where a small set of stairs took you to the second floor.

For your surprise, there weren't other rooms on the second floor like there were on the first floor. It was a single room entirely, where you could find everything: a big couch, a frigo, technical equipment for recording, vending machines, snooker table, a mini bar, all sorts of things...

A section of the room was isolated by a thick glass wall. Inside it, the walls were covered in acoustic panels and the room was filled with many amplifiers, pedals, instruments and a bunch of other things you didn't know what were called were there.

Lying on the couch were Danny, Sam and Josh, waiting for Jake.

"Goddamnit, finally!" Josh shouted "we waited for like an hour!"

"I was getting ready for her" Jake answered, smirking and pulling you close to him by your waist. You couldn't hide the embarassment on your face.

"What a fancy studio!" you said, trying to change the subject "I didn't know you rehearsed in such a cool place."

"It wasn't always like this, ya know" Josh said while standing up and putting his hands in his pockets "we started playing at our house, but it was starting to get too noisy for miss Karen" he laughed.

"It's true, we had to look for cheap studios, but it was hard to find anything in a small town like Frankenmuth" Sam said.

You all talked a bit and, fortunately, the boys were all very nice. You felt very welcomed by Josh's sense of humor, Sam's big smile and Danny's kindness.

After you got to know them, they entered the acoustic room and started rehearsing. You sat on the couch to watch them and, although you were scared to feel bored, you had a lot of fun with the private show they were performing for you.

You couldn't take your eyes off Jake. What he did to the guitar was phenomenal, sexy and even pornographic. The way he slowly slid his hand over the guitar's neck while sweat drops fell on his forehead were making you cross your legs a bit too hard over the couch.

He noticed you were staring at him and smiled at you through the glass, making you cover your face with your hands out of embarassment. You must have been making a funny face, because he giggled at the sight of you.

After two or three hours of rehearsal, they were done. Although the air-conditioning was making you shiver, they left the room all sweaty. Josh, Sam and Danny went to the frigo to get some beer. Jake went there as well, but he made sure to get one for you too.

"Did you like to watch the rehearsal?" Jake asked, offering you an already open Corona bottle.

"I loved it!" you said, getting the bottle from his hand and taking a sip.

"I was scared you would get bored" he said while he sat by your side on the couch and opened his bottle.

"How could I? I felt very special for watching such an exclusive show!" you said, making him laugh.

For the first time, you noticed what he was wearing: a dark purple silk shirt with the buttons opened showing his chest, as he always wore them. He had tight black cuffed pants and brown boots. On his neck, some long necklaces that reached the middle of his bare chest, and on his wrists a few bracelets. His style was casual and attractive, but goddamn, he looked so fucking hot.

The rest of the day was very fun. You two drank together and talked a lot, what got you even closer to each other. Josh, Sam and Danny played snooker and drank a lot, until they decided to leave.

There were only you and Jake, that were now a bit tipsy and still had a lot to talk about. You noticed that, although you two had already went out before, this was the first time you talked this much. When you realized, you were physically very close: your legs were resting over Jake's left leg and his hand was caressing the back of your head. Your index finger was circling around Jake's bare chest. He looked so great in that shirt.

"Do you wanna see something?" he excitedly asked. You, curious as you were, immediately answered:

"Sure."

Jake stood up and walked towards the platform where there was a panel with a billion different buttons you had no idea were for. After pressing and regulating some of them, he made a sign with his fingers invinting you to join him.

"What does that thing do?" you asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Everything" he playfully answered.

"Everything what?" you asked again, laughing impatiently.

"This is the sound mixer, where we can control everything inside the acoustic room. Bass, treble, autotune, tuning, echo, volume... and so on" while he patiently explained to you, you admired him. He would get so excited when talking about music.

"Wow" you responded, without taking your eyes off his.

"Wanna try it out?" he asked.

"What? Are you serious?" you almost spit the liquid of the forth or fifth beer bottle you were having that day.

"Very serious" he said, looking deep in your eyes.

"Okay then..."

"Put this on" he said, grabbing the two headphones thar were lying on the table over the mixer and handing one over to you.

You did as he said and Jake left you responsible for the sound mixer and ran inside the acoustic room, almost tripping due to his light state of inebriation.

"What is he doing?" you quietly asked yourself.

He shut the door of the acoustic room and got one of the 6 or 7 guitars that were inside. After that, he put on the headphones that he brought with him to the room, turned on the microphone that was resting over a tripod and said:

"Can you hear me?"

The sound came out so loud in your headphones that you got scared and jumped, almost turning deaf. After that, you laughed a lot and so did he.

"How do I turn this thing down?" you asked him, screaming so he could hear you through the glass wall.

"Slide the red button down, on your right. Oh, and you don't have to scream, on your left there's a microphone that's meant for you to talk to me while I'm inside, just hold its button down."

You did as he told you to and laughed at yourself, feeling silly for not knowing how to use those things.

"There. Can I do what I want here?"

"Yeah!" he answered.

Jake started playing a random melody and you played with the sounds, having fun like a child. Distorting, increasing and decreasing the echoes, you two laughing like fools.

When you had enough fun, Jake spoke on the microphone again.

"Did you know this room has an almost perfect acoustic insulation?"

"Almost perfect? Like, no one can hear from the outside?" you said while pressing the mic's button and arching a brow, without believing him.

"Exactly" he said, putting his guitar away "I can scream as loud as I want here, no one will listen. Wanna try it?"

"How do I do that?" you asked, searching for the function among the million buttons on the sound mixer panel.

"Just turn the volume down, all of it."

And so you did. As you turned the volume down, it was getting harder and harder to hear what he said, until you couldn't hear a word. He only realized you couldn't hear him when he saw the surprise on your face, caused by the magic of the acoustic room. You could tell by his facial expression that he was laughing, and you laughed as well.

He made a gesture with his hand, like he asked you if you could hear him. You answered through the mic:

"I can't hear anything! This is amazing!"

He smiled and made another gesture, as if he was inviting you to the acoustic room. You quickly removed your earphones and walked to the door, thinking it would be your turn to stay there as he played with the sound.

When you opened the door, Jake immediately pulled you inside and shut the door with both of you inside. Then, he pressed you against the wall, pinning both of your wrists against it over your head.

You couldn't help but feeling surprised, after all, Jake had never acted like this before. He had always been romantic and careful, so you were pretty curious about his sudden dominating attitude.

He approached his face to yours, whispering close to your ear:

"Wanna test the acoustic of the room's acoustics?"

His tone was everything but innocent. You finally understood where he was getting to, so you decided to play his game.

"How can we test it?" you answered, faking innocence, and he smiled at your acting. So he put his leg in the middle of yours, gently rubbing his thigh against your groin and pressing you even harder agains the foamy wall.

"We can try it the best way possible."

After he said it, he kissed you deeply. His hands let go of your wrists and slowly slid down your arms, all the way to your neck. One of his hands held the back of your head and the other choked you slightly, but strong enough to make breathing a little harder. Your arms, now free of his grip, curled arould his shoulders, pulling him closer to you.

The kiss was getting hotter. You felt the hand that held your neck go down to your waist, and the hand on the back of your head gently pull your hair, bringing your head back and making you moan softly. Jake stopped kissing you and smirked, watching your pleasure face.

"They might see us through the glass!" you said, but he didn't pay much attention as he immediately returned to kiss your lips.

"I don't care" he answered, and although it was a bit scary, the fear of getting caught was also thrilling and exciting.

Your neck was completely exposed now, inviting Jake's silky lips which left soft kisses on your skin, making their way to your ear lobes where he gently nibbled. It sent shivers down your spine and goosebumps on your skin, something Jake noticed and made sure to show he enjoyed.

"You like this, huh?" he whispered in your ear. You nodded with a small moan, still a little overwhelmed by the situation, but certainly enjoying it.

Jake went back to kissing your neck, now a little faster. The tiny threads of growing beard on his jaw scratched your face, the sensation was even more arousing. You were so focused on that that only later you realized that his hand wasn't on your waist anymore, but was grabbing your ass.

Your body was warm, but you had chills. The mix of sensations Jake was causing on you gave you so much pleasure, but at the same time it was torturous. It wasn't enough, you wanted more and he knew that, but he wanted to keep you waiting.

Jake put both on his hands on your ass, squeezing it hard and making you moan softly. But after a short period, you felt his hands leave the place, which surprised you. Only then you realized he was taking off your jeans jacket and tossing in on the floor. The black tank top you were wearing left your collarbone and your shoulders exposed, which was exactly what Jake's lips were looking for. But before he went back to what he was doing, he took a good look at your newly exposed body part. His eyes traveled from your face to your breasts and there they stood, what got you a little embarassed.

"You're so hot, did you know that?" he whispered, staring even harder at your cleavage and then at your eyes. You smiled and blushed. The way he said those things made you feel a way no other man had ever managed to do to you. "You don't have to feel ashamed..." he said, smirking at your reaction.

His lips met yours again, but only for a short period of time. They quickly moved to your collarbone. His hands were now were wandering around your whole body, moving from your neck to your shoulders, back, waist and ass, as if he was desperate to feel you. Which was amazing, because you were eager to feel his hands all over you.

You also wanted to feel him, so you did as he did: you took one of your hands to the back of his hand and slightly pulled back some of his long brown hair, what made him moan and smile in response. Your other hand traveled through his chest, gently dragging your nails around the small part of exposed skin. My god, he looked so hot in that purple jacket. The only way he could look hotter than that would be without it.

You started to slowly unbutton the shirt, which made him stop kissing you and look at you with a naughty smirk.

"So much hurry!" he giggled.

"You take mine off, I take yours, that's how it works" you answered, winking at him.

He helped you take off his shirt and toss it on the floor, next to your jacket. You enjoyed the view of his shirtless body, staring at it just like he did to you before, sliding your nails and digging them on his torso. He held your hand over his chest, looking deep into your eyes. you were expecting him to say something nasty, but instead he just went back to kissing you, now even more intensely.

He embraced your waist and pulled you closer to him, as if it were possible. Then, his hands slowly moved upwards, passing through your waist and reaching your breasts. He squeezed them softly, making you moan. Your skin, that was already shivered, got even more chills under his touch. You weren't wearing a bra, which made your nipples appear through your shirt. Jake noticed and liked it, since he touched and tweaked them over the thin cloth. At this moment, you were already wet and impacient, but you were only getting a small portion of Jake's sexual expertise.

"Jake..." you moaned in agony between his kisses, suffering with his touches over your clothes. Although it was very hot, the throbbing sensation in your groin was starting to feel unbearable and painful.

"I know, babe" he answered, resting his forehead on yours, without ceasing to fondle your breasts "you're eager, but I'm only getting started."

Hearing that made the situation of your arousal even worse, to the point where if he decided to just lift your skirt and fuck you at that moment you wouldn't even feel pain, so horny and ready you were. He went back to kissing you, never letting your breasts go. But suddenly, you felt him pull your shirt up and reveal your stomach.

He kept on pulling it, enough that your breasts dropped down from your top, due to how tight it was. He watched that pornographic scene without blinking, dazzled. Rapidly he went back to fondling your breasts, only now he took his lips to one of your nipples.

He sucked it gently, making you let go a pleasurable moan. Glad with your reaction, he kept on sucking it, sometimes licking, nibbling and kissing. He moved to the right breast, but without stopping to give attention to the left one, playing with the nipple with his thumb. The saliva he left on the thin skin of your nipple in contact with the air made you feel a little bit cold, but it gave you pleasure.

Jake took his time there, enjoying the sensation he was causing you. You, on the other hand, dig your nails a bit deeper all over his back, feeling his skin also get goosebumps.

Jake finishing sucking your nipples and went back to kissing your lips. He took off your top with a bit of hurry, tossing it on the floor and then pulling you closer to him by your waist. His hands were now back on your ass, but now he started to lift your skirt.

"This short skirt of yours... I spent the whole day thinking about lifting it and fucking you" he said, holding the cloth with the tip of his fingers and raising it slowly. The fingers that lifted the fabric softly scratched your thighs and your hip, making you shiver.

Jake saying those things made your legs tremble with pleasure. You didn't know how good it felt to hear that dirty-talk until it was Jake whispering it to you.

"I wore it thinking about it" you answered, what made him smile in a sexy and predatory way at the same time.

When he lifted your skirt high enough, he slid his right hand over your thigh. He gently slid back and forth towards your groin, torturing you with the desire of his touch. He looked you deep in the eyes with a serious expression, like he was in control of the situation. When you couldn't stand the teasing anymore, he caressed your pussy over your panties.

"Wow, you're soaking wet... I didn't know it was that easy to make you horny, baby."

You looked at him, almost not believing what you had just heard. After half an hour of teasing, he thought it was easy?

"Jake, please..." you moaned in desperation as he now rubbed your clit over the thin lacy fabric.

"I know, love, I'll give you what you want."

Jake pulled your panties down and slid his index finger between your fold, reaching your clit. You were so wet it was slippery inside you, making his job even easier. He then started to rub your clit in slow and circle motions.

You let go a fairly loud moan and, out of embarassment, you covered your mouth with your hand. He took your hand out of your mouth and pinned it against the wall behind you.

"Moan all you want, no one's gonna hear us. Moan loud for me."

And so you did. The harder he rub your clit, the more pleasure you felt and the more you moaned in his ear. He, who was also feeling pleasure, had his lips parted, watching you squirm against the wall.

Jake increased the speed with which he masturbated you, driving you insane. But you also wanted to torture him. Therefore, catching him by surprise, you took your hand to the huge bulge in his pants. He wasn't expecting that, but he enjoyed it.

You stroked his cock, that was very enhanced outside his pants. You were surprised with its lenght.

"You did this to me" he said, grabbing your hand and rubbing it harder against his dick.

But you didn't last for too long, since Jake's expertise in masturbating you was making your legs shake so you couldn't concentrate in anything but your own pleasure. You kept on moaning ach time louder until your orgasm finally hit. The pulsation made you almost scream.

You couldn't help but feel a little embarassed, but the look on his face comforted you and made you realize there was nothing to be ashamed of, since the man was clearly enjoying it.

He removed his fingers from your pussy and licked them. what made you feel another throb of pleasure. Next, he deeply kissed you.

"Fuck, your moans are so hot" he whispered in your ear. You couldn't answer him, since you were still recovering your breath.

Although you didn't say a word, you went back to stroking his erection. Gladly, he let you masturbate him over his clothes, torturing him as he had done to you.

"It's your turn to suffer" you said, and he smirked in response.

"This is nothing, I've been suffering since I first saw you in those tight clothes, your tits almost bursting out of that small top of yours. It was hard to hide how hard I was" he answered, gently pulling your hair behind your back so he could delight himself again with the sight of your naked breasts.

You rolled your eyes, giggling. He always had an answer on the tip of his tongue. But the fact that he said he got an erection only by looking at your cleavage made you feel powerful and sexy.

You kept masturbating him over the thick fabric of his pants, watching him twitch out of pleasure. After a few minutes, you removed his leather belt, tossing it on the floor together with the rest of your clothes. Next, he unzipped his pants himselft and lowered it a little, just enough so that you could see the bulge on his boxers. You could see the tip of his cock, since it had scaped the prison of its tight black fabric, which was already wet with his precum.

You licked your lips at the sight of his rigid cock. You wanted to suck it, but you would make him wait, just like he did to you. You stroked it over his underwear, which was way thinner and allowed you to move up and down much more easily. Jake was panting, anticipation taking over both of your bodies.

When he couldn't stand it anymore, he grabbed your hand and put it inside his underwear, surprising you.

"Couldn't handle it?" you laughed.

"I need to feel you" he murmured, almost out of breath.

So you masturbated him, now inside his underwear. You started off slowly, gently touching the tip of his cock with your thumb. It was wet with eagerness. You then started to move more quickly, but the fabric of his underwear was making the job a little difficult, so you impaciently pulled it down, completely revealing his penis. Now that you could see it completely, you masturbated him even faster.

You looked at his face saw the expression of pure pleasure, small groans escaping from his mouth. You smirked and he smirked back, pleased with how much fun you were having while touching him so intimately. You then looked back at his cock and realized you couldn't take it any longer: you had to suck him off.

When he noticed you were getting down on your knees, his eyes widened up in anticipation. Knowing what was about to happen, he helped you take off his pants and underwear and took off his shoes, tossing it all on the floor. Then, he grabbed all of your hair and held it tightly in the back of your head, not letting any strand of it get in the way of you doing your job, but at the same time being able to mildly control your movements.

You slowly licked his entire shaft from the base to the tip, making him shiver and moan. Next, you placed your lips around its head, gently sliding his whole cock inside your mouth. When it reached your throat you gagged, but you kept going. Starting off with slow movements and then increasing the speed, sometimes licking, sometimes kissing, sometimes harder, sometimes easier, sometimes just masturbating it while you gathered some air. With one hand you stimulated it, with the other you grabbed his butt. You looked him in the eyes, knowing he was enjoying it. His pleasure facial expression was incredible, only making you want to suck him even more.

You kept going, so eagerly you reached a very high speed, but it didn't last long. He gently pushed your head away from his cock and pulled you up, asking you to stand up.

"If you keep going like that, I won't stand for long, babygirl..." he murmured, catching some air.

"Sorry, I guess I got carried away..." you said while wiping your lips with your hand, making him giggle.

"Don't ever apologize for giving me the best head I've ever got."

Jake gave you a deep and sloppy kiss. Next, he is the one who went on his knees.

Jake laid kisses on your chin, neck, the middle of your breasts, your tummy and, after taking off your skirt and your boots and throwing them on the floor, he kissed your groin. Your body shivered in anticipation, nervous with what was about to happen.

Jake lifted one of your legs up and laid it over his shoulder, in a way he could be face-to-face to your entrance.

Before he got started, he looked up deep into your eyes, grinned and held your hip firmly with one of his hands, while the other squeezed the thigh that laid on his shoulder so tightly you had marks of it the day after.

Jake touched his tongue gently on your entrance, spreading your lips allowing his to explore your pussy. His hot and wet tongue in contact with your soaking folds sent shivers through your whole body, and several others followed it when he started to lick your clit.

The sensation was even better than the one he caused you with his fingers. Which was surprising, since he was a guitar player, you always thought he would be better with his hands. Turns out Jake Kiszka was god with incredible with string instruments and even more skilled in pleasing a lady.

He kept licking your clit, now harder. You, who were already having trouble standing on one leg while getting your pussy eaten like that, reached a tripod that stood nearby, dropping the microphone from it. Your other hand grabbed his light brown hair tightly between your fingers, trying to hold up to something and not lose grip from reality. You two were making a mess in the studio but you didn't mind, for he continued to go down on you and you kept moaning as loud as you could.

But it didn't stop there.

Jake slowly inserted his index finger inside you. You felt your walls clench around his finger as he moved it up and down, hitting your g-spot so easily you regretted not doing this earlier. The mix of sensations his tongue on your clit and his finger inside you were causing on you combined drove you insane. At this point, you were moaning so loudly you completely forgot where you two were. Your eyes were closed and all you could say was Jake's name between groans and breaths.

Jake inserted another finger and started to estimulate you really rapidly, as fast as he was sucking on your clit. Your pleasure had become unbearable and your second orgasm hit like a tsunami, wetting even more your folds and Jake's tongue. Although you had shown him he could stop so you two could move on, he didn't want to. He didn't stop, never allowing your orgasm to reach its end and making your legs shake uncontrollably.

When he thought he had enough he started to slow his movements down, for your relief. When he finally stopped, he laid a soft kiss on your wet entrance as a demonstration of affection and stood up, immediately kissing your lips making you taste your own bitter juices.

"You taste so delicious" he whispered between your lips "I can't get enough of it."

You two kissed once more, now more romanticaly and tenderly. When you two finally caught some breath, you looked at each other and smiled, excited with what was about to happen next.

He then grabbed your hair very firmly, bringing goosebumps to your skin. Next, he whispered in your ear:

"Are you sure you want it?" he asked, you thought it was sweet of him to ask for verbal consent.

"Yeah" you answered, embarassingly anxious.

"Then ask for it."

As he said it, he turned you over, making you face and lean against the wall, your back completely exposed to him. He still had his hand holding your hair very tightly. You moan at his dominance.

He bent you over in a way your ass was tilted up for him. He enjoyed the sight of it, caressing and squeezing it really hard. Next, he rubbed his hard cock over your entrance. You arched your back even more, feeling exposed like that felt hot and thrilling. The sensation of his entire lenght rubbing against your wet folds was torturous.

"Ask for it" he repeated impaciently.

"F-fuck me" you stuttered, nervously enjoying him telling you what to do.

"I can't hear you" he rubbed his cock against you even harder.

"Fuck me, goddamnit!" you shouted, feeling obligated to put all shame aside to please that wonderful bossy man.

"Good" he said in a husky voice, seeming pleased.

Jake finally put the tip of his cock inside you, slowly so your walls could adjust to his size. It wasn't necessary to wait for too long, since you were so horny and ready that he slipped right in. When his entire lenght slid inside you, you felt chills run from your neck to your back. Finally feeling Jake inside you was incredible.

Jake started to fuck you, increasing the speed bit by bit. You impaciently start to move your hips in his direction, showing him he could go faster.

"Oh, you want more, you slut?" he asked, squeezing and then slapping your ass, what would leave a red mark on the next day.

"Yeah..." you moan.

Jake then did as you asked, increasing the speed. You were now fucking really hard, his cock moving in and out of you at a rapid pace. The pressure of his shaft hitting deep into you gave you so much pleasure your eyes were rolling to the back of your head, and your moans had become screams.

Jake slapped your ass again. The pain was intense but extremely hot. He, looking for more pleasure, pulled your hair back even more while his other hand reached one of your breasts, which shook due to the harsh movements you were making. Jake's groans were low, but vibrant and rough. He moaned your name while gasping for air.

"Your pussy feels so tight, so good."

Then, for your surprise, he got out of you. You turned over to him to see what was going on, but he pulled you to the floor before you could say anything. He lied on the floor and placed you on top of him, then putting his arms under his head and laying down, enjoying the view of your completely naked body on top of his.

"Ride me" he commanded, and you obeyed without question.

You began to ride him, getting used to the position before doing it faster. As soon as you managed to find balance, you started to ride him really quickly. That position hit different a different spot inside you, and you could see by Jake's expression that it hit different for him too.

You were fucking him so hard Jake was cursing between his breaths. He put one of his hands on your butt to guide the movements as he wanted to and the other hand on your right breast, holding it and squeezing it. You two kept that position for a while, looking deep in each other's eyes, chills running through your spines.

Jake wanted to change positions again, laying you under him. For the first time you could feel how harsh the carpet felt under your soft skin, only then remembering the place the two of you were. But that didn't matter. Jake leaned on his knees and pulled one of your legs, placing it over his shoulder and going back to fuck you again.

That position was taking you to heaven, what seemed impossible. To make it even better, Jake began to estimulate your clit with his thumb while he slid his cock in and out of you. At that moment, any drop of sanity that you still had disappeared.

"Yes!" you moaned, biting your lower lip.

"Fuck!" he hissed, sweat running down his beautiful face.

He kept fucking you in that position, which didn't take long to make you come for the third time in a row. Your orgasm made you scream and moan his name for the millionth time that afternoon, and that was driving him insane.

"I'm gonna cum" he said, increasing the speed with which he fucked you, not allowing your orgasm to end. The noise your hips crashing against each other was so loud it filled the room.

Jake reached his limit, letting his fluids fill you up inside. You, still experiencing your multiple orgasms, enjoyed the sensation the hot liquid mixed with the bliss caused you. The two of you began to slow the pace, until you fully stopped. Jake laid over you, without pulling out. You two were dripping in sweat, his hair all messy and glued to his forehead.

The both of you stood there for a while, catching your breath. He caressed your hair and you stroked his back. When you could finally breathe again, Jake looked you in the eye and you both giggled in complicity.

Jake pulled out and lied next to you on the carpet while holding your hand.

"This was..." he said.

"Wow..." you said.

You two laughed for having spoken at the same time. You two stood there for a long time, staring each other in the eyes. His dark brown eyes sparkled with joy and both of you were enjoying the serotonin the intimate moment you two had just shared produced, cuddling.

"I think I'm falling for you" Jake said, breaking the silence.

You couldn't hide your surprise in hearing that declaration, but you gave him a big smile in response.

"Me too" you said, unable to contain the huge smile on your face.

"Phew!" he said, laughing "This means we will be able to do this more often."

"Obviously. But can we do it in a more comfortable place next time? This carpet is so rough!"

"You didn't like the studio? But we can make as much noise as we want in here!" he said, comically offended by your preference of having sex somewhere else.

"It has its advantages, yes, but I bet it can't be better than Egyptian silk sheets on a king-sized bed" you said, convinced you knew better than him.

"Okay, you've got a point. But I can't promise I'll be able to provide the Egyptian silk sheets and a king-sized bed by tonight."

You hit his arm and laughed, glad for having found such an amazing partner.

[writercole]

Hoax for the Holidays

Part 8 | Previous | Master List

Squares: Putting up the tree @spnchristmasbingo Words: 1080 Warnings: Thar be smut here, vaginal intercourse, fingering, protected sex, fluff A/N: Be happy that I have decided to leave the additional angst out of this series. Merry Christmas Eve!

Sam and Saira cooked dinner, letting Dean and Y/N have their moment while Bobby and Mary sat and talked about what was next with John. Mary announced over dinner that she was going to be filing for divorce as soon as the holidays were over, officially kicking John out of the house. 

Both boys stood and hugged her, promising that they would do anything they could to help out. Discussions were had about packing his things and changing all of the locks, putting the house in the kids’ name, even the possibility of Mary moving closer to Dean and Y/N, who were only about an hour from where Sam and Saira were relocating. Even Bobby was considering getting out of town now that his best friend had become someone he didn’t like seeing.

After dinner, Mary insisted on bringing the tree in to decorate. “Tomorrow is Christmas and I don’t want any of you to have to work on Christmas day. You should be celebrating the holiday with each other.”

The boys wrapped the tree in lights and garland, filling up the empty spaces and sparse branches, making the tree look like it was full of life. The lights twinkled as they placed red and green ornaments and shone bright after they finished and turned down the lights. 

Dean built a fire and everyone sat in a happy silence, enjoying the ambiance until, one by one, they drifted off to bed, leaving Dean and Y/N alone in the living room, his arms wrapped tightly around her and her head on his shoulder.

“This is probably the best Christmas I’ve had in years,” she whispered quietly as she watched the fire dancing in the hearth.

“I know it’s the best Christmas I’ve had since I was a kid,” Dean admitted. “I’m home with the most beautiful girl in the world in my arms. And she actually wants me back.”

“So what happens now?”

“Nothing changes,” Dean told her adamantly. “We already spend almost every moment we’re not working together. We just don’t have to hold back when we want to do this.” He tipped her chin up and kissed her softly, sighing into her mouth contentedly as his thumb caressed her cheek.

“That might be a problem,” she giggled when they separated. “We may never get anything done.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m not a machine,” he chuckled. “But you might be right. Because right now, that’s all I want to do.”

“We are alone in here,” she pointed out as she peppered kisses up his jaw. “There’s a nice fire, soft blankets. Everyone else is asleep upstairs.” 

Dean groaned as sucked his earlobe between her teeth, his hands gripping her hips tightly and pulling her on top of him. She rolled her hips against him, moaning into his ear when she felt his hard cock.

“Sweetheart, you gotta stop,” he told her through gritted teeth.

She sighed and sat back, looking into his eyes. “What if I don’t want to stop?” she whispered.

Dean’s lips curled up into a smirk and he sat up, crashing his lips into hers. The kiss was needy, filled with pent up longing and a deep desire to be close to each other. His hands roamed her body, gripping and grabbing as if he couldn’t get enough. She rolled her hips against him again, pressed her chest into his, needing to feel him against every part of her. He lifted the hem of her shirt over her head, throwing it to the side.

Dean slid them off of the couch and laid her down in front of the fire, onto blankets that he’d tossed on the floor haphazardly. He made quick work of his own clothes, then the rest of hers, touching, kissing, or caressing every inch of her exposed skin.

His hands grazed through her folds as he maneuvered himself over her and she moaned softly, encouraging him to keep going with her hand on his wrist. “All this just for me?” he mumbled.

“Uh-huh,” she responded, out of breath and on edge already. She gasped when he plunged one finger into her tight channel, then two, curling them up and hitting her g-spot. She cried out as her walls clamped down, a release pulsing through her body with every beat of her heart.

“Already, sweetheart?” Dean chuckled, removing his fingers.

“You’re just that good,” she panted.

“Let’s see how good I really am,” he retorted as he rolled a condom down his cock and slotted himself between her legs. He gripped the base and slid himself through her folds, gathering the slick that had pooled there and pressed himself slowly inside her tight channel, bottoming out with a grunt.

He stilled there for a moment, kissing her softly as his hands slid up her arms and he entwined their fingers together. He set a slow pace, his lips attached to hers, swallowing every sound she made.

He felt her tensing and sped up, his own climax creeping up on him. When she came around his cock, he lost control, filling the condom. His lips released hers and he let his head fall to her shoulder as he panted and came down from his high. As his breathing steadied, he pulled out slowly, tying off the condom before creeping to the kitchen to toss it in the trash. 

“We can’t sleep here, sweetheart,” he whispered as he pulled his boxers on. 

“Mhmm,” she responded, her body still limp and relaxed. She heard him moving around, seeing him gathering their clothes and tossing them over his shoulder. He stooped down next to her, slipping one hand under her neck and one under her legs, lifting her and carrying her up to their room before sliding her under the covers and crawling in next to her, wrapping his arm around her body and pulling her to his chest.

“That was amazing,” she whispered sleepily.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a very long time,” he replied as he kissed her forehead.

“At least we don’t live with each other. We’d never get anything done,” she mumbled as she continued to trace patterns on his bare chest, her eyes fluttering shut and her hand stilling.

Dean was lost in the feeling of her in his arms, fingertips trailing up and down her back softly, slowly. His mind reeled with possibilities, scenarios, dreams. His eyes closed as sleep finally took over him, bringing a restful sleep.

Next

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@chrisparagon​

[avengershumanresources]

blood 7 - Strange/Stark!Reader

Relationship: Dr. Strange/Princess!Stark!Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Adult Themes, eventual smut, adult language, implied sexual violence, general violence

Synopsis: Reader is the daughter of the legendary King Anthony Stark, Uniter of Lands, The Iron Defender, and leader of the realm. When the king disappears during battle, hope is lost and he is presumed dead.

When the late king’s uncle, Obadiah, takes the throne until your brother Peter is of age, he quickly arranges a marriage for you with a wicked king in a neighboring kingdom.

With the realms politics in question, and rumors of an upcoming siege to overthrow Peter’s rule before it starts, you quickly learn who is loyal to the crown and who is not.

part 6 - part 8 (coming April 13th)

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CHAPTER WARNING: Yee-har, thar be smut afoot in this here chapter. 18+

7- a king

Anthony Stark hadn’t expected all of this to come of his death. He foresaw of some of it.  

Of Obadiah’s imminent betrayal and Brock’s general ambition, but when Wanda had approached him with her vision all those years ago, he couldn’t have understood what it all meant. 

Now, however, he realized the violence that was soon to arrive at his kingdom’s doorstep. It was an uneasy feeling; the responsibility bestowed upon him to put men’s lives at risk. To make widows and orphans because of inter family squabbles. 

But Tony knew that Obadiah and Brock both presented far larger threats in the long term. 

A king who is hungry for power will never stop to consider the least fortunate in his rule. 

It was a mantra Tony had created for himself after his father had let entire villages fall to win back some petty golden toy during the War of the Giants. In the end, the lives lost had been worthless and the giants returned to their mountains with more spoils than they’d started. 

It had made him sick. 

That was the moment Tony decided to be a better man. A better king. He took pride in his unselfish rule and lack of war among those who shared the boundary with his kingdom. By a miracle he’d gotten Brock into line, but Obadiah had gotten a taste of power from his position in the Giant’s War and wanted more.

Rumors turned to plots, and all at once Tony knew his family and legacy was in danger. He had a troubled relationship with the Wakandans after one of his own barons killed their king in a quest for vengeance after the Giant’s War. Steve had volunteered as ambassador with the shadowy James Barnes (who’d long had a positive relationship with T’Challa) and they’d managed to broker a deal benefiting both nations. 

And Asgard. 

That was a whole other bag of complications. 

Odin had long been distrustful of Tony’s first wife, the late Queen Alexandra due to her Vanir lineage. The Asgardians had fought for centuries trying to eradicate what they’d seen as a dangerous race of uncontrollable magic users. 

Odin had been a step in the right direction, after replacing his late father, but the prejudices still remained and Tony’s marriage to one of the few remaining Vanir royals had soured what little relations they’d had. 

Still, in the end, they’d protected you when he so desperately needed help the Asgardians could only provide. To that, he’d offered her hand to the princes, and Odin took the offer into consideration, only backing off when an agreement was made between the two boys and yourself that affections lay elsewhere.

Which brought him to his latest challenge. Your engagement to the monster king, Brock Rumlow. 

The popular story was that he’d had his late wife killed when she hadn’t produced a male heir. Every female baby prior had been fed to the dogs and at last, when her fifth pregnancy had yielded yet another female, she fell mysteriously ill and died a few nights later. Some say a villager found the baby’s water logged corpse shortly after. 

From a strategic perspective, it made sense. You hadn’t been called upon by any serious suitors, often running around the kingdom with a begrudging Stephen on your coattails, and you were still young enough to bare a child or two. 

Brock needed a means of securing trust in the kingdom, and marrying one of its beloved daughters was the way to do it. Not to mention, Obadiah got his army, Peter would be overthrown when he attempted to take his birthright, and both men would share in the mutual benefits of being involved in one of the strongest economies in history. 

It was a clear cut plan for control of the kingdom, and it would have been more than enough for Tony to take action.

Except for one small caveat.

You. 

You’d been born of the same Vanir blood as your mother and even as a days old infant, you had shown the Master Sorceress at the time an insurmountable measure of power. 

It was an old and finicky magic, the woman had warned before your mother’s body had even cooled in bed. You would need trining, but there was no one left to provide. 

The Asgardians had been thorough in destroying the ancient texts and any remaining Vanir had long fallen into hiding, often using enchanted amulets and trinkets to conceal their seidr from those with wicked intentions. 

Your mother had been a victim of such vicious greed. She’d been open with her abilities, sharing a close bond with Orin’s own wife and his young son, Loki. The pair had conspired to learn all the forbidden secrets of the Vanir, and she’d begun to accumulate quite the library of resources from old temples and Asgardian burial tombs. 

Frigga helped her translate and in turn, the relationship with the royal families had warmed considerably until a few days before your birth. 

Things had fallen apart so quickly. The Northern Kree empire had infiltrated the castle after hearing rumors of the queen’s power. Someone had once written that a single drop of Vanir blood was worth thousands in gold pieces. A bandit had gotten through the gates while she labored, he had ambushed her in the birthing chambers and despite putting up an admirable fight- died with a dagger stabbed through her heart. 

The beast had tried to cut it free in front of the midwives. 

The Master Sorceress had only stepped from the room a moment to freshen up her herbal remedies. By the time anyone had made it to her side, she had died, and you’d been cut free of her with that same knife. 

“Your majesty?” Wanda inquired, approaching where he sat by the fire of the rebellion campsite.

“Yes?” He blinked up, returning to the present at hand. The men who were preparing for battle around him. The women sharpening weapons and sewing leather.  

The people he had asked to rise up for the betterment of the kingdom. The people who were prepared to die by his side for a secure future. 

“Master Strange is to meet at my cottage in the hour,” she explained. 

“And what would you advise Master Sorceress?” he asked, an amused expression on his face. “Shall we let him in on our secret?” 

“With less than seven days to the wedding, it might be wise,” she reasoned sardonically. “Natalia has her own mission in securing the support from within. Master Strange is working with Peter and Loki on securing the vulnerable.” 

“Do you think he told him?” Tony looked down at the fire pensively. 

“Who?” 

“Loki,” he clarified. “He and Master Mordo were among the few who knew. They had to have mentioned something to him. He’s- well- I’m not entirely sure what he is to her now, but he’s certainly one of the closest lines of protection to her.”

“Assuming the rune hasn’t already faded, I would think he either told him or Stephen found out for himself, my liege,” Wanda sat down on the log next to time, her gaze following his into the flames. “Her power is what Amora desires. It needs to be concealed until the princess is in safe hands.”

“Then he knows,” Tony decided, nodding to himself. “Amora would have done something stupid if the seidr had broken through completely. Someone is keeping it under control.”

“I’ll find out,” Wanda promised. “Would you like to speak to him?”

Tony made a disgruntled noise at the thought of approaching the sorcerer. House Strange had long served under the Stark banner, proudly riding at the front of the line when called upon for battle. When they sent their oldest to train at Kamar-Taj, Tony had been surprised.

The boy had a knack for strategy and was sharp as a needle point. Tony could have seen the young man easily rise in leadership in the house, ruling his own militiamen and managing the family affairs. 

But apparently he had no interest in it, and in an unorthodox fashion, the assets had been passed to their eldest daughter. 

Granted, in the end, none of that mattered- as the entire family estate had been stricken by a particularly nasty plague. The sole survivor was Stephen, who’d been away at Kamar-Taj when he’d gotten the news. 

He’d rushed home, and in the process gotten sick himself, but with the help of his fellow sorcerers, recovered with the only remnants of the illness remaining in his hands. He often told others it had been a riding accident. Only a select few knew the truth and devastation of his loss. 

Tony had met with the young man on his sickbed, assuring him the assets would remain in the family. That the castle would maintain the property while he fulfilled his obligations to Kamar-Taj. After all, there was no greater calling than to a life of service and compassion. It was the least Tony could do. 

Well, until you had scared off every Master to cross the castle threshold and he’d gotten desperate and asked the boy for a favor.

He should have known better. You were close in age. Equally as ambitious and cunning. For years you’d been sneaking through passages and around the villages at night, often with Natalia at your side. 

Stephen just made it easier, and helped Tony rest a little easier knowing the man would give his life for you, if need be. 

Tony wasn’t dumb. He’d seen it the first night the you had met. 

The sneaking smiles, the conspiratorial whispers in the corners of the ballroom, and when Peter’s cat turned into a lion almost identical to the Stark sigil, Tony knew that one day he might allow that young man to break the oaths he’d made for a single exception. 

“Your highness?” Wanda pried gently for a clearer answer. 

“Yes, I’ll speak to him,” he pinched the bridge of his nose. About a great many things.

(—)

“I somehow don’t believe you just found out about this,” you stated, sitting cross legged on one of the strewn about cushions, a teapot floating delicately from the palm of your hand. 

“I’ve learned a number of thing recently,” he replied dryly. “Like Mordo is alive, and Brock wants to kill Obadiah once you’re wed.”

You lost your focus and the cup shattered on the ground. 

“He what?” you gaped at Stephen while he repaired the ceramic cup with a wave of his hand. 

“It ties into the whole secret magic thing, but it really isn’t an ideal situation,” he explained, setting the cup aside and dropping to the cushion across from you. 

“I guess it’s good I’ve pestered you for your books over the years,” you mused, flexing your fingers in the air in front of you.

“It isn’t the same,” he sighed, watching while you lifted a few other stray objects and paused them between the two of you. “Seidr is... there isn’t documentation. The books were destroyed. Kamar-Taj had a few tomes but the Vanir language is nearly impossible to translate at this point.”

“What about Loki? Or Frigga?” you asked, moving both your hands at once and dropping a feather into his lap with a grin. 

“Believe it or not, I’ve been focused on other issues,” he muttered dryly. “We’re going to have to seal this before you leave.”

“But you said it’s what preventing Amora from taking over my head,” you reminded him pointedly, summoning a small flame from an incantation you’d studied the day before. Extinguishing it between your palms, you looked up at him for a better excuse. 

“But it is also the reason Brock is forcing you into a marriage and so she can control you, and in turn, your power better than you can,” he explained tersely. “She can’t know you’ve gotten partial control over it. Let her underestimate you, but until you can learn to conceal the energy yourself, you can’t risk exposure.”

“So am I being sealed or not?” you asked impatiently, floating a candle from you to him. He took it with an amused half-smile, extinguishing the light with a quick puff of air. “Can you do a... half seal? Hide the energy, keep some of the good parts?”

“Gods, I don’t know,” he groaned, shaking his head while he seat the canclde aside. “This is entirely new territory that I was not trained for.”

“That must mean you’re a terrible Sorcerer Supreme. What fool put you in charge?” you teased, reaching forward and tapping the top of his nose playfully. 

“It’s not my fault you’re a freakish anomaly that’s supposed to be extinct,” he mumbled, pulling a frown while you laughed. “Give me your wrist.”

“Fine, but when this over I demand you help me train properly,” you stated and though he  continued grumbling under his breath about being too old for your games, he agreed. “And Loki helps too.”

“Not part of the deal,” Stephen scowled. 

“Fine, I’ll marry him then,” you smirked back at him. “You still haven’t asked, so I guess when my wedding tragically falls through, I’ll have to find respite with him.”

He pulled you forward, a glint in his eyes that sent a shiver through your entire body. 

“I’m not going to chase after a betrothed woman, it’s bad taste,” he hummed, fingers crawling up your wrist and intertwining with your fingers. “I have a reputation to uphold, even if you feel comfortable hiding away with strange men in dark places.”

“Is that supposed to be a joke?” you whispered, sitting up on your knees and tilting your head.

“Do you not think I’m funny?” he murmured, reaching with his free head and tilting back your chin. A smile played on the corners of your mouth, both of you sizing the other up and daring the other to make the first move. 

“I can think of many things you are,” you lifted his hand and pressed a tender kiss to his palm. “But funny?”

“You laugh at all of my clever wit, don’t try to deceive me princess, I know the truth,” Stephen sharply pulled your hand forward, forcing you to fall into his chest. He held your lower back, gazing down at you adoringly. “You’re trying to hide it, but I see it in your eyes.”

“Do you know what I see in your eyes?” your voice cracked ever so slightly, your hand cradling his cheek, your thumb lightly tracing the sharp features. 

“What do you see?” 

“Strength,” you murmured, transfixed by his opalescent gaze. All at once, it was like you were seeing him for the first time. You could feel the energy radiating off of him, seeing the waves of magic as they ripples through his body. “Devotion to... Stephen you’re beautiful.”

“Or so the stars whisper to the earth below,” his voice was soft, gentle, while his hand guided itself up your arm to your cheek. “But, what the stars do not see is their own radiance, their own ethereal light shimmering across the velvet heavens above. The stars do not know how the Earth worships the very flicker of their existence, tells stories of their magnificence and beauty. The do not know how the Earth finds its meaning in what little time it steals away to them in the night.”

It all happened very quickly after that. 

You peeled at his robes, he worked at your corset, a frenzy of hands and mouths tasting one another in a way neither had ever imagined. 

Discarding the corset, he worked his hands up your blouse, fingers lightly teasing the tip of your nipple until you let out a satisfied moan. Robes loose, you pushed him back against a nearby pile of cushions, climbing between his legs and peppering hungry kisses up and down his neck until he growled, clawing at your hips. 

“If you’re-,” he tired protesting while you pulled away more clothing, pressing his leg between yours and letting out a whimper of pleasure when he shifted in just the right way. 

That seemed to set something off in him. 

He was over you, flipping you to the ground and pulling what little clothing remained between you, your naked bodies now flush. Stephen moved down to your breast, drawing a nipple between his teeth and watching you squirm under him at the incredible sensation. 

“Please,” you mewed, an absolute wreck under him. 

He took his time, moving to the other nipple and repeating his actions until you were begging for any kind of release. 

“Needy are we?” he murmured in your ear, his voice low and so controlled, you couldn’t understand how he could stand it. Goosebumps erupted over your body, and he just smirked, continuing his exploration.  

Teasing a finger at your entrance, he looked to you for final approval before easing the digit into you. 

“Gods,” he hissed, moving the finger at an agonizingly slow speed. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes upon.”

He caught you in a kiss, speeding up his hand below, his thumb searching for the sensitive nub of nerves. When he grazed over the tender area, you nearly shot out of yourself, the sensation feeling downright sinful. 

Pulling his finger out, you let out another whimper, this one of protest at the emptiness inside of you. 

“Are you certain-?” he asked again, eyes scanning your face for any sign of hesitation or doubt. 

“I’ve never been more certain of anything,” you replied honestly. It wasn’t an exaggeration. You’d been a make up to this point, untouched and with no interest in engaging in such outrageous behavior.

Yet with him, you wished you could give more. Your body. Your soul. Your love. What did it matter anymore? He was yours, sitting before you and showing you through his loving car assess and sensations you’d never known before this moment. 

He eased himself in, giving you time to adjust to his length, the member much larger than his single finger. But Gods, did he feel incredible. 

You’d never thought so much emotion and pleasure could occur in a single moment. For this tiny hidden corner of the universe, you felt like your souls had collided and merged. 

It was a far cry from how Nat had told you it was. 

This was- you anticipated each of his movements, raising your hips to meet his as he crashed inside of you. Your brain couldn’t form coherent thoughts and when he started to coax something feral from within your core, you let him lead you through it. 

Pumping in time with strokes to your clit, you clenched your walls around him, pulling a hissed curse from the sorcerer. 

A few more pumps and a final circle around the sensitive area and you felt your orgasm crash over you. 

At first, you thought you’d done something wrong. Did you break something? How did this feel so incredible and overwhelming all at once? 

While you rode out your bliss, you felt his hips tighten, finishing with a final grunt.

You both stated at one another, eyes wide, trying to catch your breath. 

“Have you-,” you started but paused. “Like that before-?” 

It was no secret Stephen wasn’t exactly a virgin. He had his vows but they were against attachment, not sex, and sometimes, as he put it, the spirit needed to be revitalized. 

You’d called him a creep and moved on, but Gods did you understand now. 

“I don’t know what happened,” he blinked, looking thoroughly bewildered. “That’s... I’ve never- my gods, you’re incredible.”

He pulled out, dropping to the ground next to you with a huff. 

“I have a potion,” he muttered, pointing to the table above them. “Prevents pregnancy.”

“And here I thought you were devoted to me,” you poked him in the rib and he just laughed. 

“I am,” he insisted. “However, I’m not devoted enough to end up in the gallows for deflowering a princess who is betrothed to a ruthless king. My apologies, my grace.”

“Hm, I’m sure I can find someone willing to make that sacrifice for me,” you hummed. 

“And a fool he will be,” he leaned up on his elbow. “I still win the day. He would be hanged and I still get my princess.”

“Your princess?” 

“Has it been any other way?” he asked, quirking a brow. “Truly, if I’m mistaken, tell me. I don’t want to sound too over ambitious.”

You considered it briefly. Had it? 

No, you knew from the moment you spied those eyes at the ball welcoming him to the castle that he was your future. You just hadn’t realized what that meant at the time. 

There was no world, no life, where you could live without him by your side. 

The thought sobered you quickly, your upcoming nuptials springing to mind, the spell locking you in your private world, now lifted. 

“Would you have asked my father?” you asked. 

“In another life, we would have been married by now,” he answered earnestly. “I’m a fool for having hesitated and nearly missed my chance at an eternity by your side.” 

“And Brock?” you asked, the name leaving a sour taste in your mouth. Stephen’s expression darkened at mention of the man. 

“I’ll kill him before he touches you,” he vowed. “I will not yield your heart to such a monster, and I will stop this. I cannot risk you leaving my side. Not again, my love.”

You leaned forward and kissed him, soft, intimate, and gentle. Stephen wasn’t a fighter. 

Certainly he could fight, but you knew him well enough to know that violence was a last option after all other options had been tried. And here he was preparing to declare a one man war on your betrothed. 

Truly, the heavens were smiling upon you in this life.

(—)

Later that evening, when Stephen had returned you safely to your quarters, he met with Wanda at her cottage at the edge of the woods to discuss the next steps in the plan. 

When she caught sight of him, her expression shifted from confused to elated to-

“What is it?” he asked, knowing she’d gotten a read of what he’d been up to previously. 

“Do well to conceal your thoughts,” she warned, leading him inside. 

“Conceal what-?” he asked after her, stopping in his tracks when he saw Anthony sitting at her table, sipping at a large horn of water. 

Tony stood up, giving the man a once over, brows raised as he took him in. 

“You couldn’t wait until the wedding night?” he grumbled, dropping back down in his chair with a long sigh. 

(—)

8- a secret

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