#the fabric looks fine on the skirt part but I don’t like the see through vajayjay part

[ihavefashionopinions]

[coldfanbou]

Seethrough

Here we go! Chaeryeong comes out to have a little fun. I would like to thank Blep for submitting the idea! Sorry for not going with the GP Chaeryeong part, Blep.

Length 1.9K

Chaeryeong x Mreader

Stepping out of the store with bags in hand, you and Chaeryeong decide to take a small break. “How about the park across the street?” You ask, pointing to a large park with dozens of trees outlining it.

Chaeryeong nods her head, “Sounds good. There’ll be a ton of shade.” You begin your walk with Chaeryeong, discussing all the clothes you looked at. As you cross the street, Chaeryeong begins to hurry ahead of you. You watch her with a smile; her skirt blows in the wind. It got in her way; Chaeryeong’s skirt got thinner as it went lower, eventually being a sheer piece of fabric. Chaeryeong looks over her shoulder with a frown, struggling as the wind gets harsher. You chuckle to yourself and jog to her. 

“Don’t look so sad,” You tell her as you grab and press the remote button briefly. Chaeryeong squirms and reaches down to her crotch before continuing to walk forward. You press the button again and watch her bend over before standing back up and looking at you. You give her a smirk and motion toward the benches to her left.

Chaeryeong quickly sits down on the bench and pats the seat beside her. “Don’t do that.” She whispers to you, her hand covering her lap.

“Why not? It’s why we came out today.” 

Chaeryeong squirms as you press the button again, activating the vibrator on her clit. “I know, but I’m nervous. What if someone catches us?”

“Things are going to be fine.” You reassure her and point to the restroom. “You said you wanted to try it; look, right now, someone is using it.” The restroom in question was a see-through one. Once the door was locked, it would become opaque; people couldn’t see inside. Something you had discovered about this particular restroom was that when it was locked, the glass became opaque, leaving people on the outside unable to see inside, but you could still see the outside. Something must’ve gone wrong in the construction. You told Chaeryeong about this, knowing she had a slight interest in public sex. Now that the opportunity was in front of her, she was getting nervous. You press the button again, forcing her to stifle a moan. “No one is around right now; we can head inside.” You grab Chaeryeong’s hand and walk to the restroom with bags in hand. You shut and lock the door as soon as you're inside the room. From the inside, Chaeryeong notices a slight change in the walls. 

“So no one can see us now?” She asks, looking at some people passing by on the street.

“No one can see us.” You respond, seeing some people coming along the park path. “Look, I’m going to wave to these people, and they aren’t going to see a thing.” You do as such, waving to them when you know you’d be in their line of sight. There’s no response from them; they don’t acknowledge your presence at all. “See? It’s completely fine.” You grab the remote and hold the button down as you embrace Chaeryeong. She squirms in your arms and lets her voice be heard. Your hands find their place on her ass; you squeeze her plump cheeks. “I want you to get me ready, Chae.” 

“I will,” Chaeryeong moans, her hand beginning to rub your bulge. As you begin to take off Chaeryeong’s top, she works on your pants. You both manage to get each other’s clothes off after some struggles on your part. You close the toilet and sit on the lid; Chaeryeong hesitantly kneels down on her clothes and grasps your cock. Her delicate hand moves up and down your shaft as she stares into your eyes. The look she gives you is lustful; Chaeryeong’s nerves are leaving her. She focuses on you as she presses her lips against the tip and swallows the head. You move her hair behind her ear and let Chaeryeong do as she pleases. You press the button on the vibrator and give Chaeryeong a shock. She jumps slightly; her moan muffled as she runs her tongue along the underside of your shaft. Chaeryeong’s saliva runs down your shaft as she slowly bobs her head. Wanting more pleasure, she snakes her hand into her panties, running them along her slit before pushing them inside. Chaeryeong curls her fingers, rubbing her walls. Her eyes become half-lidded, her moans going on longer as she pleasures herself. 

“Look at you, Chaeryeong. You’re being such a slut.” Your comment brings a smile to Chaeryeong’s face. “I think I’m ready to move on.” You say as you stand up. Chaeryeong slowly rises to her feet, wiping away her saliva. She unzips her skirt and lets it drop to the floor before stripping out of her panties. You wrap your arms around Chaeryeong, reaching down to squeeze her soft ass before giving it a light smack. She bites her lip, excited to get to the good part. “Tell me where you want it.” 

Chaeryeong strokes your cock, looking into your eyes as she presses it against her cunt. “I want it in here,” She says, dragging your cock along her slit. You remove the vibrator from Chaeryeong’s body and kiss her. You move her against the glass wall. Her tits press against the cold glass, and she looks outside for the first time since you’ve started. Chaeryeong sees the park filled with people now, all around the bathroom as well. You rub your cock against her slit, letting her take in the view. You push yourself inside, slowly at first. Chaeryeong was tighter than usual; viewing everyone around her turned her on. You ram the rest of your length inside, pushing her against the wall. The small thud attracts some people’s attention for the moment, making Chaeryeong’s walls tighten around you. “They’re all looking at me.” She mumbles. 

You consider reminding her they can’t see a thing but don’t want to ruin things for her. You start thrusting into Chaeryeong, listening to her moan. Chaeryeong’s tight and warm walls squeeze you as you push deeper inside her. You grab Chaeryeong’s arms and pull them back, forcing her tits to press against the wall and holding her in place as you thrust. “Ah! Keep going!” Chaeryeong moans as your thrusts push her against the wall. You drop Chaeryeong’s arms and move one of your hands to her leg, lifting it up. Your other hand moves to her modest chest, squeezing and playing with her tits as you continue to impale Chaeryeong. With her leg raised, Chaeryeong’s pussy would be in full view, and she knew it. She moaned louder as you put her in that position. She turned her head toward you and kissed you as you played with her body. “Everyone can see, everyone can see.” Chaeryeong mumbles. 

“You like that, don’t you, Chae?” she just nods her head and lets your tongue explore her mouth as you pound away at her body. Chaeryeong’s cunt begins to tighten around you, “Come on, say you like being fucked in public.”

“I love it, I love it, I love it!” Chaeryeong moans as she nears her climax. You can feel her walls tightening around you, and a sudden thought pops into your head. 

“Let’s give the people a show.” You whisper into her ear. Before Chaeryerong has enough time to process your words, you unlock the door, making the glass transparent again. People’s eyes begin to be attracted to the restroom as they see you and Chaeryeong. They begin to point in your direction. Noticing this, Chaeryeong goes over the edge and cums. Her nectar squirts onto the glass walls as she cries out from the pleasure. Chaeryeong’s face is glazed over in an expression of pure bliss as she realizes everyone watched her cum. “I’m cumming,” You moan not much later as you bury your cock inside Chaeryeong, filling her with your semen. Chaeryeong’s head hangs loosely as she loses strength. You kiss her again, enjoying the fact everyone’s eyes are on you two. You lock the door again, blocking everyone’s line of sight for the moment as you pull out. You squeeze Chaeryeong’s cheeks with one hand. “Did you enjoy having everyone watch you, Chae?” She mumbles something unintelligible. Cum runs down her leg as she leans against you. “Does my little slut want to keep going?” 

She nods her head, making you smile. Placing your hands on the bottom of her thighs, you spread her legs apart as you lift her up, planning to give everyone a chance to look at her pussy. Chaeryeong reaches down and grabs your cock, moving it along her lips, back and forth, before sinking onto it. She wraps her arm around your neck to support herself and unlocks the door. Everyone was still looking in your direction. Chaeryeong gave them all a smile and waved as you began to thrust. She bounced on your cock, her breasts bouncing as she came down. Chaeryeong’s moans filled the small room, leaking out for everyone to hear.  An audience grows around the restroom as more and more people begin to watch. Chaeryeong starts to moan louder as more people come by. She was getting off on having so many people see her naked body be fucked and watch as your cum dripped out of her. You felt her arm tense up, “I’m going to cum!” She moaned out, “They’re going to watch me cum!” Chaeryeong screamed as she rocked her hips back and forth; her nectar dripped from her pussy as she got wetter. A second later, Chaeryeong came for a second time, squirting more of her nectar on the wall. She began to finger herself, pushing more out and giving everyone a sight they wouldn’t forget. Chaeryeong’s lower half was a complete mess, her thighs were slick, and as you came, her cunt was dripping cum onto the floor. 

Chaeryeong’s mind was gone, too. She mumbled something as she rocked back and forth on your cock. You lock the door again and pull out, placing Chaeryeong on the toilet. You stood in front of her and slapped her face with your cum-covered cock. After a second slap, she opened her mouth, her tongue hanging out of it. You slide your cock along her tongue, letting her clean you off as she slowly recovers. You could hear Chaeryeong’s muffled moans as she cleaned you. “I hope you enjoyed yourself, Chae; it’s time for us to go.” You pull out and begin to dress yourself before helping Chaeryeong. She struggles to stand up, but eventually, you get her dressed. A noticeable amount of cum runs down her leg, and her hair is a complete mess, but you grab your things and walk out. The crowd surrounds you as they try to get a piece of Chaeryeong, but you force them away and head home with her. 

Once inside, you crash on the couch. “So, how would you rate your first public sex experience?” Chaeryeong rubs herself through her panties, thinking about all those people who watched her. “Did it meet your expectations?”

“I want to do it again,” She moans, “I want everyone to see me. Do you think you can go again? I need some relief.” She says, looking over at you.

“I can go again. How about we do it on the balcony?” Chaeryeong just smiles at you and begins to strip down, now addicted to public sex.

[queenshelby]

Business As Usual (Part Three)

Pairing: Dark!Thomas Shelby x Wife!Reader

Warning: Dubious Consent, Reluctant Smut, Loss of Virginity, Arranged Marriage, Religious Themes, Angst, Termination, Pregnancy 

Words: 3,500

NOTE: THIS IS MUCH DARKER THAN WHAT I USUALLY WRITE. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

*** The Consummation of Marriage***

“Alright Love. Why the fuck not” Tommy said as his gaze dropped.

“You will give me the US division of the business?” you ought to clarify before retreating slightly and placing your half empty glass onto the nearby study desk.

“What fucking choice do I have, eh?” Tommy then asked and, by this point, he was already awfully close to you.

“Okay. Right. Now, should I get myself ready so that…” you then stammered a little nervously, causing Tommy to furrow his eyebrows.

“Ready for what?” he wondered and, again, you nervously stammered out an explanation.

“We just talked about this, Thomas” you began to say but he interrupted you.

“We did, and I do not want to draw this out for any longer than I have to. Let’s just get it over and done with, eh?” Tommy asked and, of course, you agreed.

“That’s perfectly fine by me” you thus said, trying to appear confident whereas, the truth was, that you were not.

“Good” Tommy said. “Now, turn around” he ordered and this caught you by surprise.

“Excuse me?” you asked as you weren’t sure what he wanted you to do.

“Turn around. It will be quicker that way” he then said and, again, you nodded, this time more reluctantly than before.

“Sure” you said almost nervously before turning around and placing your palms on to the large desk now in front of you, waiting for what was to come next.

But, what came next surprised you as, suddenly, you felt your husband’s hands on your back, pushing your upper body down until your clothed breasts laid flat against the cold oak.

And then his weight was against your back, his hands on your hips, and you began to wonder how someone so lean could be so strong when you felt it.

“Are you sure about this Love?” he then asked again and affirmed that this was indeed what you wanted.

“I am sure, although I didn’t expect it to happen quite like this” you then told him and Tommy chuckled slightly.

“Listen Love, you asked me to make it quick and I can assure you that it will be quick, but only if we do it my way. I have no desire to make love to you. I will simply fuck you and then I will be on my way. Now, do I have your consent?” Tommy then asked and you, again, gave your consent.

“Yes. You have my consent” you said, holding back your tears just as your husband bunched your skirt up in his hands and pulled it up.

“Your ass is actually not that bad” Tommy then said almost cheekily while you gasped at the sudden feeling of air on your upper thighs as he flipped the fabric over your back, exposing your lace covered panties.

“Just shut up and do what you need to do” you responded while still fighting your tears. You were glad that he couldn’t see your face like this as, clearly, you had no intention of appearing vulnerable to him.

“I was just giving you a compliment Love” Tommy chuckled before, in one hard move, he pulled your underwear all the way down your thighs.

“I don’t need compliments from you, although a warning would have been nice” you gasped as you moved away from him slightly but Tommy quickly grabbed your hips and adjusted your position again.

He brought you further back towards him and yanked your legs apart slightly before instructing you to stay still.

“Don’t move” he growled just before his hand went right in between your legs and he ran a finger through your slit.

You winced at his touch and, whilst it felt interesting to be touched by someone else other than yourself, you were not aroused and were not quite sure what he was looking for but whatever it was, he did not find it.

“You're barely wet at all, Love” Tommy then said just as you heard the clink of his belt being undone.

“Am I meant to be?” you asked as, by now, your heart threatened to fly out of your chest.

“Considering the circumstances, probably not” Tommy then said while undoing his zipper and pushing down his pants and brief in go.

Unlike you, he was aroused but then again, getting aroused was not exactly difficult for him. He was a sex driven individual and visited local brothels quite frequently for easy and problem free relief.

Thus, he was also rather experienced and knew what needed to be done for a woman to enjoy herself although, with you, he seemingly couldn’t be bothered as, without loosing any time, he licked his fingers before applying his saliva onto your somewhat dry core so that he could penetrate you more easily.

It was at this time that, finally, the tears came in full force and, after Tommy removed his hand from you, you felt something hot and hard parting the lips of your slit.

It felt strange to say the least and you always expected your first time to be different and romantic in a way. You might have never been with a man, but you were a woman grown and had touched yourself before which, too, felt different.

At times, you even slid your own fingers inside of your body, but nothing compared to this as your husband pushed against your opening.

Now, all you could feel was burning until, eventually, your pussy gave in with a surge of pain.

You bit your tongue, teeth clenching, as Tommy penetrated you from behind and the tears did not stop, which luckily for you, he couldn’t see.

“Fuck Love, you are tight” Tommy said as you felt every painful centimetre of his cock being forced into you. The sensation was like sandpaper against your insides as, unceremoniously, you felt him ripping through your maidenhead.

The pain was a stab all the way from the innermost parts of you and, just as you swallowed your gasp, your knees began to give way.

There was no getting out of this now so you closed your eyes, clenched your jaw, and tried to just get through it.

Eventually, you felt Tommy’s hips touch your rear while, at the same moment, you felt him reach something deep inside your core.

“Please, just hurry up. I am not exactly enjoying this” you pleaded as Tommy ground his hips against you while the head of his cock nestled against your cervix, sending another wave of pain across your abdomen.

“It would be easier if you were stop moving around” Tommy then told you as he pulled out slightly and then pushed back in, hitting that spot inside again.

Every time he bottomed out inside of you, Tommy groaned but all you could register was the hard wall against your front and the burning ache in your privates growing momentarily sharp every time he thrust, even though he was not rough or too fast. In and out, in and out, dry drag and burning push, until a few minutes later the pain began to dull just the slightest bit, which you supposed meant your body had finally caught up and decided to help.

After a while, Tommy had picked up a little speed, with the new aid of your wetness. The pain in your entrance dulled slightly and left your vividly aware of the pain of that spot inside, low in your stomach.

“Just a little bit more Love. I am almost there” he groaned and panted behind you but you could not say anything and simply tried to focus on something else.

Somewhere in the pain and the shame, you felt lost. You just wanted this to be over and, luckily for you, after just a few minutes of thrusting in and of you, Tommy was close. The sounds he made were growing more and more heated and, by what you could feel inside of you, Tommy had began to really pick up speed now.

"I'm close” he eventually said. His voice was hoarse by now, near a pan and, with all the pain, you had no words left.

Eventually though you cried out inadvertently as, with one deep thrust, Tommy groaned loudly and hilted himself all the way inside. He forced his cock into you hardly and the force pushed you on your toes, stabbing that spot inside of you with all his might.

“Fuck” he groaned as he came and you knew that had spilled himself inside of you as you felt the wicked warmth of his cum spreading across your burning walls.

When he was done, he sighed. He was content and spent and, after a few moments, he rocked his hips. And again. Slowly, gently, a little thrust, then another, pushing his seed deeper inside of you.

You whined. The pain might have dulled, but it hadn't stopped and, when he finally pulled out of you, you sighed with relief whereas Tommy, on the other hand, was met with shock and regret.

“Fuck Y/N! Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked almost angrily as he noticed the streaks of blood that had mixed with his cum, covering both his cock and your pussy.

“Tell you what?” you asked after wiping your tears away.

“That I am your first! Fuck! I would have been…” Tommy yelled after cleaning himself off, pulling up his pants and slamming his fist onto the desk just before you interrupted him.

“You would have been more careful or little bit gentle perhaps?” you chuckled, wiping away the tears that you were unable to hold back.

“Yes. Obviously” Tommy sighed before handing you his handkerchief. Let’s talk about this” he then said but you shook your head.

“Talk about what? There is nothing to talk about Thomas! It had to be done and I didn’t want you to have pity on me. This is a business transaction now. No more and no less” you told him and this comment you made irritated him even more.

“Fine” he said before walking towards the door. “You are fucking insane, you know that? Perhaps Pol was wrong about you” Tommy then spat and slamming the door behind him as he left.

Just as he had left however, you just cried against the wall, trying to ignore the warm wet feeling inside of you and trying to ignore his words.

Did he actually care about you? Did you, just perhaps, push him too far?

*** Backflash to Wedding Reception ***

For some reason, you despised him and it was your new aunt Pol who had given you hope just after you told her that you may as well be dead. Obviously, she spoke with your husband as well and this made you wonder.

Polly Gray was her name and she assured you during the wedding reception that Thomas was not as terrible as you had thought. According to her, your new husband was known to do bad things to a good end and him marrying you was just that.

He tried to look after his family and the business by making this deal and, according to her, he offered your family many things in order to get out of this marriage, all of which they refused.

“It must be a mafia thing” she said as she knew that your mother and uncles wanted him to marry your older sister but ended up marrying you instead. You wanted to protect her after all she had been through in the past and you knew that, even though you were the youngest sibling in your family, you were also the mature and smartest.

Your father had always called you a “gifted fighter” and told you that, unfortunately for your family, neither your brother nor your cousins or uncles possessed what it took to run this business.

He wanted to take his drug and liquor empire to another level and this was exactly where Thomas Shelby came into the picture.

Unbeknownst to you, Thomas and your father had worked together for more than six years after Thomas killed a man by the name of Luca Changratta.

Luca Changratta was a rival business man who did what Tommy was doing now, and it was your father who had put the mechanisms into place to unite the families following his death. It was a smart thing to do as the Shelbies weren’t Italian and, just like your father, aunt Polly told you that Thomas was a man of his word.

“You will see that he won’t bother you much Love. He will not touch you unless you want him to and you will have all the luxuries you can imagine” Polly said before realising herself that this is not what you wanted.

“I don’t like being reduced to someone’s wife and I certainly don’t care about diamonds and pretty dresses” you explained before telling her outright that it was your father’s business that you were after.

“Then make this marriage work to your advantage. Tommy is a business man and you may work well together” she told you but you shook your head.

“I doubt that very much. The sheer fact that he married me for financial gain means that our values do not align” you explained while taking yet another sip from your glass of champagne.

“That may not be true Y/N. Unlike your family, my family likes to empower women and, if you go about it the right way, then perhaps you can work with us as part of our company as well as your father’s company” Polly explained but, again, you shook your head.

“My uncles won’t allow that” you chuckled, seeing that, at least in your family, women were frowned upon.

“With Tommy being part of your family now, they will soon realise that they have lost all authority over their businesses. He has his ways of making people bend to his will and, if you play your cards right, they will bend to yours also” Polly then suggested and you wondered why she was being so nice to you.

“Why are you telling me this?” you thus asked and she explained.

“Because you are smart and us women need to work together in order to conquer the world” she told you and this well and truly made you smile for the first time that night.

“Well Miss Gray, you are quite unlike any other woman I have met”

“Call me Polly, Love. We are family now”

“Not quite yet. There is still one thing that has to be done which I am not looking forward to”

“Tommy wouldn’t lay a hand on you Love”

“If he want’s this marriage then, I am afraid, he will have to” you told your new aunt just as the clock stroke nine and the announcement was made that the ceremony was about to come to end.

It was now time for you to consummate the union with your new husband while the guests had the option to leave the party or stay in the function hall of your new mansion, which was located just outside of London.

“You must be joking?” your aunt asked as your mother asked her elected witness to come forward and you quickly managed to down a glass of whiskey at this point.

“No, I am afraid not. It’s a tradition that came to fruition a few hundred years ago and for some fucked up reason it is still practised by my family and their congregation to this day” your explained a slightly tipsy state, knowing that you needed alcohol to get through this.

“That’s ironic really, considering that your very own family uses the churches in Boston and Chicago to store their cocaine. Surely, they can’t be that fanatic” Polly exclaimed just as Tommy came by, followed right by the woman who was your long standing family doctor.

“What is going?” Tommy asked, causing Polly to grin.

“Apparently you get to consummate your marriage now, so have fun” she joked, but Tommy simply rolled his eyes.

“Funny” he said before trying to walk off again, which is when you reached for his hand.

“She isn’t joking I am afraid” you sighed before making Tommy follow you to your material bedroom.

*** The Present Day ***

And there you were, crying again, as the memories of recent weeks came crawling back into your mind.

You recalled your rather painful wedding night and how your husband left the house for an entire week thereafter without even bothering to introduce you to his son.

You recalled how your very own husband then decided not to keep his promise to you. He took away the import and export division of your business and, instead, he put a woman called Laura Manning into charge. Now, he was even sleeping with her and, whilst you did not mind him sleeping with whores, this was the ultimate betrayal for you.  

And then, finally, you recalled that horrible morning two weeks ago, when you woke up nauseous and unable to eat.

It was that same awful morning that you found out that you were with child and you never told anyone, not even your husband.

There was only one person who knew and this was the man you trusted more than those in your own family. He was a doctor in London and you had worked with him on several charity projects downtown, including a new hospital that had been sponsored by the Grace Shelby Foundation.

Charity work kept you sane as it was the only kind of work your husband permitted you to do and it was now also the kind of work that made you befriend this stranger named Frank.

But even Frank refused to help you now and you knew that, what you were asking him to do, was illegal.

You had asked him to terminate your pregnancy. You could not bear carrying Thomas Shelby’s child after all he had done to you but there was no one who was willing to take the risk and carry out this dangerous procedure.

In the same vein, you also wanted a divorce but there was also no lawyer who was willing to take the case and your husband was very well aware of that.

You were stuck and wondered whether, somehow, you could go away and leave this life behind after just a few weeks but then you thought about it again.

You were much stronger than that and you knew that you would not allow a man to ruin you.

You were a “gifted fighter” and putting up a fight was what you were going to do.

***

With that in mind, you made your way to London and, in London, you sought out a woman who you knew nothing about. Her name was Elizabeth Stark and, just a year ago, she divorced your very own husband.

You wrote to her after finding out about your pregnancy and she agreed to meet with you after having had a letter delivered to you through Frank’s address.

She was cautious, of course, but she also knew that you needed her help and possibly some guidance.

When you met her in a café, you were rather surprised. She was dressed nicely and looked incredibly attractive. She featured dark curly hair and her skin was white as snow.

“I am Y/N” you said, having recognised her from the photographs which you found in Tommy’s office.

“Call me Lizzie” she said after offering you a seat.

“You are much younger than I had expected. I am truly surprised that Tommy…you know…never mind…” she then acknowledged and, of course, it was at this point that you told her that your marriage to Tommy didn’t came about out of love. It was a marriage that had formed part of a business deal and this information made Lizzie sigh deeply.

“It’s never love for Tommy. He loved Grace but he isn’t going to love anyone else and the sooner you realise that, the happier you will be. Tommy is all about business and money and fucking whores. He won’t ever care about you just as he never really cared about me” Lizzie then explained with great frustration and you couldn’t help but feel a little relieved about hearing this from someone else. According to her, he married her because she was pregnant with his child and felt as though it was the right thing to do for his political image.

“What happened to your child?” you asked and, as you did, Lizzie broke out in tears.

“Our daughter died of consumption and fucking Tommy…” she began to say before gathering her thoughts. “Don’t ever have children with him. He loves them, but wherever he goes, there will always be danger” she then warned you and you immediately shed a few tears as well.

“I am pregnant” you admitted. “I don’t want to be, but I am. I don’t know what to do” you then sobbed and Lizzie took your hands into hers.

“Do you want to terminate?” she asked gently and you nodded.

“No one will do it. They are all too afraid of Tommy” you explained, crying.

“I know someone who will do it, but you can never tell Tommy, understood?” Lizzie asked and, of course, you nodded again.

To be continued…

Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!

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@cyphah

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[bloatedandalone04]

To The One I Love - Part 10

Series Masterlist

➪in which tyler finally gets everything he’s ever wanted, and you are finally his wife.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 3.3k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡ | HAPPY HALLOWEEN 🎃

3 weeks later.

“Okay, so maybe vintage was the wrong choice,” you muttered as you tried to guide your arms through the thin sleeves of your wedding dress without poking a hole through the lace. “Seriously, I might actually rip this soon.”

Lilly, who had been watching, and filming you, shook her head and smiled as she set the camera down after letting you struggle for a little longer. “I think it’ll look great once it’s on. Here,” she rolled the sleeve up until it was pretty much a ring of fabric, then you carefully slid your wrist through it and let her pull the rest of it up your arm. Once your other arm was through the other sleeve, she stepped back and nodded with her lips pursed. “Oh yeah, Tyler is definitely gonna start cryin’ when he sees you in this.”

You laughed and turned to look at yourself in the full length mirror, the white skirt of the dress draped along the wooden floor behind you, and you knew you would have to be careful to not trip since you were wearing your white converse under the dress. You weren’t the biggest fan of heels, and they didn’t like you either since they always hurt your feet after wearing them for only a few seconds, so you decided to wear something flat and comfortable. No one could see them anyway, and Tyler was expecting you to be one hundred percent genuine all day, so that’s what you were doing. He knows you’d never willingly wear heels, anyway. 

“I feel like I’m going to be sick,” you mumbled as you ran your palms along the lace corset of the dress. “I can’t believe I’m getting married.”

“I can’t believe you’re marryin’ Tyler,” Lilly snorted, but not even she could keep that facade up for too long before she was grinning. “Yeah, I can. Y’all are perfect for each other.” 

Your smile grew as you turned to face her again, but before you could get another word out, the doors to the room you were getting ready in swung open and your mom came rushing in. “There you are-oh, my God!” She gasped, covering her mouth as her eyes instantly filled with tears. 

“Mom,” you warned, your own eyes stinging already as she looked you up and down at least five times before she began silently sobbing. “Don’t…don’t do that, you’re going to make me ruin my makeup.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she practically wailed, accepting a tissue from Lilly as she stepped closer to you. “You just look so beautiful, sweetheart. So damn beautiful.” 

Then you were wrapped up tightly in her arms as she swayed you back and forth, and you gave Lilly an embarrassed look over the top of her head as your mom sobbed into your shoulder. “Oh, mother,”

“Don’t oh, mother, me,” she muttered, pulling away to dab at her eyes with the tissue. “You’re gettin’ married. My baby’s gettin’ married.” 

You grinned from ear to ear as you let Lilly adjust and smooth out your dress. “I know,” you whispered, refraining from jumping up and down as you asked, “Where’s dad?”

Your mom sat down on the bed next to your veil, still dabbing away at her eyes and nose. “Oh, he’s with Ty’s dad. He said he didn’t think he could handle seein’ you like this until he needs to walk you down the aisle,” she answered, running her hand along the thin, lacy material next to her that would soon clip into your hair. “He’s a little torn up about givin’ his baby girl away.” 

“Mom, I’ve been with Tyler for almost half my life,” you laughed, sitting down at the mirror as Lilly began fixing your hair. “I think he gave me away a long time ago.”

“I know that, and he knows that, but it all just kinda hit him today, I think,” she mumbled, meeting your gaze through the mirror with a proud smile. “You are so beautiful.” She said again, handing Lilly the veil once she had pinned your hair into a low bun. 

Once she had slid it into place, you were officially all done up and ready to become Mrs. Owens, and that thought had you screaming a bit on the inside as you turned to face your mom and close friend. “Well?” You asked nervously, giving them a small spin as you waited for their reactions. 

Your mom, of course, just started crying again, and Lilly gave you a big smile and another nod. “Don’t worry, Tyler might actually cry more than your mom is,” she said and your mom scoffed slightly with a watery smile. “He’s been waitin’ for this day for a long time now. I remember when he told me he was thinkin’ about proposin’ to you when I first met him, and that was quite a while ago.”

Your eyes welled up with more tears that you held back as you let out a shaky breath. “God, I can’t believe I made him wait so long,” 

Lilly shook her head, reaching for her phone as she stepped away from you. “Don’t do that. You got there eventually, and I know for a fact that he would’ve waited another eleven years if he had to,” she said, holding the device up in  front of her face to take a photo of you. “Get in there, ma, it’s almost time.”

Your mother quickly tossed the tissue aside before standing next to you, her arms wrapped tightly around you as Lilly snapped countless photos of you. Then she moved onto a few solo ones of you, one being when you weren’t ready as you were reaching up to adjust your veil, but funnily enough, that one was the best out of all of  them since you still managed to look pretty, even when caught off guard. 

“That’s the one,” Lilly hummed, favoriting the photo before setting her phone aside. “That will definitely be Tyler’s new wallpaper once I send it to him later.” 

You blushed and took your mom’s hand when it was time to go meet up with your dad so he could officially hand you off to the love of your life. 

-

Tyler’s hands were shaking as he debated on whether or not to down the mini bottle of whiskey Boone had brought for him to ease his nerves. 

He knew he wasn’t going to actually drink it, at least not until after the ceremony, because he was going to be completely and one hundred percent sober during this part of his wedding. He’d be damned if even a second of yours and his vows was a blurry memory. He needed it to be crystal clear. 

Still, holding the bottle in his hand helped just a bit as he leaned against the barn doors, getting the last breaths of fresh air before he spent the next half an hour inside the barn. “I’m shakin’,” he muttered, looking at the pretty field of grass and wildflowers that surrounded the barn. “Why am I shakin’?”

Boone, who had already downed his shot, placed a comforting hand on Tyler’s shoulder. “‘Cause you’re gettin’ married, dude,” he answered, “My boy’s gettin’ married.”

That had Tyler grinning as he looked over at the farmhouse across the property. You were somewhere in there, getting ready in one of the rooms so you could walk down the aisle to him, and he wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to physically let you go after tonight. 

For as long as he’d been with you, he wanted to marry you. He knew, even when he was a seventeen year old kid, that you were the one and only person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, and he’d dreamed of this day for so long. 

He still couldn’t quite believe that it was happening. “I know,” Tyler murmured, looking down at the small bottle in his hand before quickly looking back up at his best friend. “Wait, what if I forget my vows?” 

“I think forgettin’ is Y/n’s thing,” Boone said, and Tyler gave him an unimpressed look that quickly had his best man shaking his head. “You won’t forget your vows because you didn’t write any. You said you knew what you were going to say to her when she meets you at that altar in there.” He gestured to the interior of the barn, and Tyler let his shoulders relax a bit. 

“Right,” he mumbled before putting the bottle of whiskey in his left hand as he patted his pockets down with his right. “What about the rings? What if I left them at the house by accident?”

“T,” Boone said sternly, patting his own suit pocket. “I have them right here. You have everythin’ you need, and everythin’s in order. Lil and I made sure of that, okay?”

Tyler nodded slowly, willing himself to calm down because he knew Boone’s words were true. Tyler had been waiting for this day for what felt like forever, he knew he was only nervous because he wanted everything to be perfect. You deserved that much. 

When it was nearly time, Tyler felt his phone go off with a text, and when he opened the message, he suddenly felt a lot calmer. 

My Babe 💕: I can’t wait to see you in exactly nine minutes. I love you so much, Ty. The next time we see each other, it’ll be when we say our vows. 

You added a multitude of hearts at the end, and Tyler wanted to turn around and search every room of that house for you so he could pull you into his arms and never let you go. 

“Fuck, Boone, I need you to take this,” he muttered, shoving his phone into his best mans hands as he turned around and walked into the barn, deciding that he was going to stand at the alter for the next nine minutes until you would come join him there. 

The barn was full of both yours and Tyler’s family and friends, both old and new as Dr. James and Nurse Karson were a few rows down from the front. Your mom and Tyler’s parents and aunt were in the front row, his mother barely keeping it together as she looked at him all done up in his tux. 

And after those nine minutes had passed painfully slowly, Boone was standing a few feet away from Tyler  while Lilly stood across from him, and then it was your turn. 

You walked into the barn with such grace, Tyler felt himself become unsteady as your father walked you towards him. He had no doubt that you’d look stunning, because you always did, but you were drop dead gorgeous in your lace dress, your veil trailing behind you as you clutched your bouquet of wildflowers, similar to the ones that made up the field this barn was in the middle of. 

Tyler cursed at himself in his head when he felt his eyes start burning with tears, and he couldn’t even process the soft laugh from Lilly as your dad pressed a kiss to your cheek before officially handing you off. 

Once your dad was next to your mom, who was crying next to Tyler’s mom, that’s when it began. 

Tyler’s hands were shaking, and he discovered that yours were too as he reached for them after you handed your bouquet to Lilly. The officiant began speaking, but it was all muffled to Tyler as he took you in as if he didn’t know every inch of you off by heart. 

Every part of you was familiar, and had been for nearly a decade and a half, and Tyler never wanted to forget any of it. The way you fit in his arms, the undeniable look of love in your eyes that mirrored the look in his own, the way everything felt right in the world every time your lips touched his. 

Before he knew it, the time came for Tyler to begin his vows, and he remembered why he didn’t bother to write them down. Because after everything you and he had been through, and seeing you right here in front of him, he knew he would always have all he needed. And that was you. 

“Y/n,” he started, and even your name sounded a bit shaky as he squeezed your hands. “I remember the exact moment I first saw you. I was fourteen years old and scared that I wouldn’t make the football team in high school, and then I saw you, tucked away under that tree behind the field. You were reading Wuthering Heights for your English class, though I would later find out that you had already read that book before, because of course you did. When I saw you, I wasn’t scared or nervous anymore. Just one look, and you took all that away and replaced it with the very same feelin’ you give me to this day. Peace. And so much happiness, I knew I was going to find a way to talk to you so I could keep you in my life forever.” 

Even through the blurriness of his vision, Tyler was still able to see the tears gathering in your own eyes, and he knew his vows were going to just be him rambling at this point, but he didn’t care since they made you react like this. Since they made you look this perfect and in love with him. 

“But even forever isn’t long enough with you. No time will ever be enough. You complete me in every single way. You make me feel like the luckiest man in the world that you chose me to spend the rest of your life with. Every look, every smile, every touch makes me fall more and more, hopelessly in love with you, and I hope you keep lookin’ at me exactly like this every day for the rest of my life,” his hands squeezed yours gently as he wrapped it up, knowing damn well he could go on for hours if he was allowed to. “I promise you, right here and right now, that I will love you until I take my last breath, and even after. You’re my first thought when I wake up, and you have been every single day for the last eleven years of our lives. You’re my forever person, the only one I want to start and end my days with, and I promise you that I will continue to always be your biggest supporter, fan, and to love you unconditionally.”

You were sniffling now, trying to carefully wipe under your eyes as you turned your head away from him and towards your mom, who gave you an encouraging smile. 

Once you were decently composed, you turned back to Tyler, and he grinned, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. “I guess you’re right, I can be sweet when I want to be,” he murmured against your skin and you laughed tearfully. 

“You’re always sweet,” you said back, “And not only to me. The way you are with Lilly, Boone and everyone else who has ever gotten to spend more than a few minutes with you, that’s the version of you that drives me crazy. Every part of you, every single inch has me totally screwed, because you’re the best person in my life. And definitely the craziest.”

Well, that was very true. But you were pretty crazy yourself. You chose him to be your husband, after all. 

“But that’s what makes you perfect for me, because you bring out my crazy side too, and yet we somehow fit together so well. And I can tell you right here and right now, that no matter what life may bring us, I will always love you with every fiber of my being. And you know I mean that, because very recently I managed to forget us for a short while, but you stayed by my side every single step of the way. You gave me hope and support and love, and you are my endless supply of all those things, and I love you so much for it,” you were getting a bit quiet now, but Tyler could still hear you as clear as day, and he noticed that you weren’t reading off a piece of paper either, and he knew that you couldn’t memorize anything to save your life, so it was clear that you hadn’t written your vows down either. “I never forgot about how you own my heart completely, and I never doubted that I’d spend the rest of my days with you. You’re my protector, my safety when things get scary. I promise you, Ty, that I will never leave your side, and I’ll adore you and love you, and be your partner in every sense of the word. Forever.” 

Now Tyler was damn near sobbing, his teeth nearly piercing his lip as he tried to keep it together. But how could he after all of that? 

His teary eyes stayed locked on yours as he blindly reached behind him, taking your wedding band from Boone and sliding it onto your finger above the engagement ring you had finally accepted only three weeks prior to this. “I love you,” he mumbled, his right hand cradling your face as if you were the most precious thing in the world to him, and you were. 

“I love you,” you said back after taking his wedding band from Lilly and sliding it onto his finger, where it would stay for the rest of his life. 

Then he was allowed to kiss you, and he went all in. 

His hands were on your face, guiding your lips to his in a deep kiss as your fingers cradled his jaw. He kissed you over and over again, his heart feeling unbelievably full as he realized that you’re his wife now. You were all his, forever. 

As if you weren’t before, but now it was official. 

Later that night, after countless photos and lemon cake and kissing, Tyler took you back home. Lilly had sent him some of the most gorgeous pictures he had ever seen of you while you were getting ready, and he instantly made one of them his phone’s wallpaper. He would probably never change that. Well, maybe he’d swap it out for a picture of you holding his baby in your arms, but that was it. 

When he got you into your bedroom, he carefully unzipped your dress as if it was the most fragile thing he had ever touched, and left it on the floor as he lifted you into his arms and carried you to the bed. 

Your bodies were bare, his skin feeling like it was on fire as it brushed against yours. His hands were everywhere, as were yours, and his lips were pressing kisses anywhere they could reach. 

“I love you,” he mumbled against your collarbone before he lifted his head and pressed a deep kiss to your lips. “I love you so fuckin’ much, baby.” 

He was met with a soft whimper, and the feeling of your legs wrapping tighter around his waist as he guided himself inside you. “I love you too,” you breathed out, tangling your ring-clad fingers into his hair as you pressed your forehead against yours. “So much, Ty. Forever, and ever…and ever.”

You continued like that, whispering sweet words into his ear as he made love to you for the first time as your husband, the love and trust you had for each other undeniable, even in private moments like this one. 

And as he got you to your high multiple times, he knew he would always be feeling his own high, because you were his addiction, his soulmate, and the love of his life.

-

The End ! Thank you for reading this series, I adored writing every part of it !

[yurinaa-world]

Can you do Sampo, Jing Yuan, Aventurine and Gepard react that reader has been secretly working at a maid cafe?

"𝒴𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓌𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝒾𝓈 𝓂𝓎 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒹, 𝑀𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇!"

💫𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈: Sampo, Jing Yuan, Aventurine & Gepard x Gender-Neutral reader

💫𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: Seeing you work at maid cafe was not what he was expecting

💫𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Fluff, Might seem like it's female reader, No pronouns though, Spelling Mistakes

💫Part two: 💫2–"𝓨𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓦𝓲𝓼𝓱 𝓘𝓼 𝓜𝔂 𝓒𝓸𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓭, 𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻!" (with Heng, Argenti, Veritas Ratio, & Boothill)

💫𝒮𝒶𝓂𝓅𝑜 𝒦𝑜𝓈𝓀𝒾 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝒾𝓁𝓋𝑒𝓇-𝒯𝑜𝓃𝑔𝓊𝑒𝒹 𝒮𝒶𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓂𝒶𝓃"

Bunny maid—A tight, short skirt paired with a top with a large gap showing your collar to your chest that shows more than it needs to, fishnet tights, black shoes, a little bow at your neck, and lace cuffs at each wrist; it tops off a frilly maid headband and pretty bunny ears—A subtle flirty aura to it.

It's like his personal show, watching the way your legs are wrapped in that fishnet fabric along with the tight skirt and he can’t forge the upper half of your body, with a top leaving not much to the imagination along with the droopy pair of fake bunny ears on the top of your head. 

The polite and kind tone in your voice that you use while talking to other customers yet when it comes to being dear ol’ Sampo’s cute host, he can hear the anger seeping through your words, which isn’t so intimidating when you're dressed like that—don’t mind him taking in your beauty—and calling him by that silly “master” nickname, he has to hold his laugh back.

“What can I do for you, master?” You smiled, yet the vein on your forehead looked like it was going to burst from your growing anger and embarrassment. He’ll never let you live down for the rest of your life! Yet he, on the other hand, loves it, a droopy grin on his lips while holding that colourful menu and pretending to order.

“Hmm, not sure how about you give me a recommendation? I'm not picky so everything’s fine.” 

You’re going to kill him.

“…Well master, that would be our new pretty maid parfait <3 You should definitely try it!” You embarrassed yourself more by forming a heart with your hands to emphasize that recommendation. “Where is that on the menu?”

“Right in the dessert section…I could just take your order in, if you want it…”

“Well I'd rather look at it in the menu, could you be dear and help me find it,”

 Now he’s pushing it, that vein on your forehead might have busted. Leaning down to see the menu to pick out where the dessert is. Yet his eyes seem to be all over you. “Impressive little maid you are,” 

Turning to the side to look him in the eyes before smiling at him “Wait until I’m clocked out, I’ll break your legs.” In a gentle voice that would leave him breathless if you weren’t threatening his poor legs. Maybe those blackmailing pictures of wearing that outfit will stop you. Along with a recording of you saying “master” Perhaps you’ll redirect your anger?

💫𝒥𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒴𝓊𝒶𝓃 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒢𝑒𝓃𝑒𝓇𝒶𝓁 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒳𝒾𝒶𝓃𝓏𝒽𝑜𝓊 𝒞𝓁𝑜𝓊𝒹 𝒦𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉𝓈"

Classical maid—A long-sleeved dress with a high neckline, long skirt and a white apron with bows tied around your waist, white thighs underneath, black shoes, and topped off with a frilly maid headband—A modest aura to it.

A pretty maid, long skirt, head frilly headpiece, and bows all over your pretty clothes, quite the old-fashioned you were made to wear yet it made you look adorable in his eyes. Even more so right now, though your eyes avoided his gaze as you poured him a cup of tea, with your shoulders slumped down in shame, and blush dusted over your cheeks.

“Is there anything else you want….master?” 

Your voice came out as a mumble, shyly looking at him while trying to save face for your job. You could feel your heart jump into your throat while thinking about how in the world did you even get here? How is one of your clients you were told to prioritize over any other patron, Jing Yuan of all people?...

Since when did he have a fascination with maid cafes, seems like he has no shame in going to maid cafes while being General, which just makes your stomach twist even more. The whole time these thoughts float through your brain he doesn’t even take the chance to look at the menu, only taking in the beauty in front of him.

“Is there something on my face, master?” you blushed, while your heart pounded at the realization of him staring at you, Jing yuan on the other hand, is calm, taking a sip from the tea, you so graciously poured him with your pretty hands.  His other hand goes to your hair slightly in your face—if he’s going to enjoy this, then at least let him get the picture of every part of your face in his mind.

“Let me see your face better, It’s no fun if I don’t get to see your face after finding your little secret,” he cooed, with a lot of fondness in his tone of voice, gently caresses your cheek with his thumb before stopping at the side of your lips.

“Shame others get see be all pretty like, so forgive me for enjoying this more than I should.” 

You feel shocked after hearing that, your mouth agape, and your face so red that anyone else might think you’ve gotten ill. Jing Yuan is truly shameless in private and in public!

💫𝒜𝓋𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓊𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑒 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝑒𝓃𝒾𝑜𝓇 𝑀𝒶𝓃𝒶𝑔𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝐼𝒫𝒞 𝒮𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓉𝑒𝑔𝒾𝒸 𝐼𝓃𝓋𝑒𝓈𝓉𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝒟𝑒𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉"

A short skirt accompanied by a short apron, a fitting bodice with frills, puffy short sleeves, bows all around, white tights underneath, paired with black shoes and topped with a frilly headpiece—a very cute aura to it.

You could feel the sweat drip from your forehead. Aventurine is something else…he cleaned out your entire section, all the tables of your section he’s booked on purpose, just to have his pretty host all to himself, like the greedy gamblier he is.  

Enjoying the show the second you greet him at the door with a cute title, watching your pretty self get flustered the second you see him again yet you have to save face for work. Seeing your short skirt jump around while you run around trying to prepare things.

He has to order everything on the menu, not like he’s going to eat any of it, only to hear you say cute pre-practice lines about how you adore him with a shaky voice and smile while your eyes dash to his face and everywhere else. He just grins proudly at you while you just give yourself a secondhand embarrassment.

“Thank you for your kindness, master!” You cheer, clasping your hands together with a forced sweet look plastered on your face. All the while he’s just grinning back at you with his black card in his hand, showing it off like it was a trophy.

“Aren’t you such a cutie for maid, (name)?” Just hearing him say your name made your body shiver. Yet the pain of having to save face for the madness is happening in his head right now. “Thank you for the compliment, master!” Hoping he’d just leave already, but he isn’t leaving without a quick souvenir to remember this.

“how about we take a picture together?”

No way. Nothing is worth your dignity! (As if you hadn’t lost it the second he entered the cafe). Just get out already! He won’t let you live this down until the day you get buried if you do take that cursed photo together.

 “I’m sorry to disappoint but pictures aren’t allowed—”

“How about 10 million credits?”

Upping the price every second, 10 to 15 to 20—making your jaw drop to the floor—It’s obvious that your boss won’t refuse his offer with how much money he’s about to waste on you for just for a picture, it’s like giving up free money. Now you feel a feeling of dread as one of your co-workers comes by to take said photo.

You feel your face get bright red, while he’s got an arm around your waist and brought the side of your body against his. “Give the camera a nice smile, I want this photo to be memorable.” He whispers into your ear, and seconds before the camera shutters, hitting you both with a bright white flash.

A pretty Polaroid picture with your pretty smile, while he had his arm around, in your pretty maid outfit, truly a blessed sight to be able to bear witness to his eyes too. Putting the picture in the inside pocket of his jacket, just to look whenever he needs to <3

💫𝒢𝑒𝓅𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝐿𝒶𝓃𝒹𝒶𝓊 "𝒞𝒶𝓅𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓃 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝒾𝓁𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓂𝒶𝓃𝑒 𝒢𝓊𝒶𝓇𝒹𝓈"

French maid—form-fitting black dress with white lacy pieces, a short frilly skirt, a short white apron tied around your waist, short puffy, frilly sleeves, fishnet tights, paired with heels, and topped with a frilly headpiece—A subtle flirty and teasing aura to it.

What was he thinking?! This isn’t a place he belongs, seeing every worker there dressed in different styles of maid outfits just makes him feel even more embarrassed and shamed about his thoughts, even more so when he sees you there—seeing you wear a short skirt, tightening fitting dress, along with fishnets on your legs, making him speechless while you both just silently stare each other before quickly snapping out of it.

He tries to not look anything else than your face, anytime his eyes drift off he feels like a creepy old man, how could he view you like that? It’s your job to be his host! He shoudln’t be ogling you! You deserve better than that behaviour. “...How can I serve you today master!” You uttered, now it’s just so awkward between you, especially with the maid dress you’re wearing.

He feels just as embarrassed as you are, scratching the back of his neck while looking down at the menu—He can’t leave…it would make things even more astray. Seeing you sit beside him, waiting to pick something, makes him feel like some stupid teenager who hasn’t seen a girl before, is how he feels when he sees you wearing fishnets—he can’t keep his eyes off them.

“Don’t be so nervous,” 

You felt bad, he seemed to be feeling more guilty than any criminal that has appeared in Belobog City, putting aside the awkwardness to make him feel better.

“Keep it this secret for me.”

He felt reassured when you put your hand on his shoulder and gently smiled at him…now he just feels worse! How could think that way about you?! He’s going to go jump into ice water when he gets back him. He smiles back at you with cherry-like cheeks.

“Of course!”

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[oh-koenig-my-koenig]

concert, part 2

part 1 | part 2 | (cw: age gap 25/41, nsfw smut)

The concert is a fucking blast. König and I are headbanging in unison to the songs blaring from the speakers and I love seeing the wild expression on his face. It’s exactly how I imagined it. Lorna Shore is also an amazing live experience, my god. I think I’m gonna have a bunch more lines on my face because every breakdown is bringing out my stank face.

Most of the concert goes well, without any incidents. Most of it.

If it wasn’t for the guy who almost knocked me off my feet running past us to the moshpit. König catches me when I topple over, his hands grabbing my waist and pulling me up again. The look on his face as he stares down the guy that just shoots a little “sorry” in my direction is downright abysmal that for a moment even I get a bit scared.

And I grab his arm putting my whole body weight on it when I see that he wants to go after the guy. “König, please, I’m fine.”, I shout at him, pulling on his arm to get his attention on me.

He stops, turns around and leans down, coming face to face with me. His eyes search it for any indication that would go against my claim, his hand cupping my cheek, the thumb softly caressing just once. And I just want him to do it again.

“I swear, I’m fine, it happens. I’m not made of glass.”, I explain to him and do a little dancydancy to demonstrate that my limbs are still working.

That pulls a little chuckle from him and he finally relaxes. Nodding, pulling back, and then he straightens back up, re-taking his position right behind me like my own personal bodyguard. And I lean into him again, shamelessly so, somebody might even call it ‘snuggling into him’.

I’m feeling touchy and I maybe would have had a guilty conscience if he didn’t do the same. His hand skimming over my naked arm, him pulling me against him when somebody pushes past us again. His big burly arms framing me. And it feels good. Oh, so good.

Luckily the heavy music blasting from the speakers is distracting me from the attractive man at my side, so I can keep some of my sanity while I try and tell myself that this totally is just two strangers going to a concert and not at all a date. Mh-mh, not a date.

I push those thoughts away and will myself to stay in the moment and let the music carry me away. I’m already getting tired and sweaty from all the jumping, shouting and moshing I’ve been doing, but also the concert is slowly but surely coming to an end.

I jump up a bit, going on my tiptoes, but I can’t see the band members on stage through the sea of bodies in front of me. König leans down, one of his hands on my shoulder.

“Everything okay?”, he asks me, loud against the noise, his breath skitting over the shell of my ear, and I ignore the tickling feeling that this elicits.

I turn to him speaking into his ear as well. “I don’t see anything.”, I complain to him. “But this is my favourite song.”

“You wanna sit on my shoulders? I bet you’d have a better view from up there.”, he suggests, patting said shoulders. They do look like a very comfy seat. Or a comfy leg rest. *cough cough* Get yourself together and the mind out of the gutter, I tell myself.

“Uh, sure.”, I say, totally not sure how this will work. He pulls his hair to the side and just leans down a bit, hoists me up at my waist and places me on his right shoulder. He holds up his hands and I grab them as I reposition myself, slinging my leg over the other shoulder, so that my thighs are now resting on both of them.

I didn’t factor in that I’m only wearing a skirt. The fabric is bunched up, which means that there are only the two thin layers of my panties and my tights between his neck and my pussy. Great. Just peachy.

His hands grab my thighs, his fingers digging into me, holding me steady and save. I’m so high up, so I can see everything, but right now my attention and more importantly the attention of my body is on the man whose head is between my thighs – so to speak.

“All good?”, he shouts up at me and I shout back a “yes”. Holding onto his head, making sure not to pull on his hair. But I can’t ignore the way it feels silkily smooth underneath my fingertips. I resist the urge to run my fingers through it and focus on the concert going on in front of me, joining in the refrain of ‘Dancing like Flames’.

And so the 'Pain Remains' Trilogy plays out with me on his shoulders experiencing the end of the concert with maybe the best seat in the house.

“Did you have fun?”, he asks as we leave the venue.

I’m doing double time on my steps to keep up with his long strides and the adrenaline from the concert still coursing through my veins turns my almost running into skipping along. “Yes, I did.”, I say smiling up at him.

A cold gust of wind blows through the street and a shiver runs down my spine which makes me slow down and cross my arms in front of my body.

“Wait, here, have my jacket.”, he says, slowing down as well, already putting the worn leather onto my shoulders.

I pull the piece of clothing tighter around me, getting enveloped in his scent while the smooth fabric of the inner lining skims against my skin. “Thanks.” We’re making our way to the car and he opens the door for me again, just like he did before.

“So, do you feel like you kept up with me today?”, I ask him then, a sly smile forming on my lips. He shoots me a look, an intense one, before he closes the car door. The look alone should have totally shut me up. But it doesn’t.

“So, how does it feel to still be out past your bedtime, old man?”, I continue as he climbs into the driver’s seat.

He doesn’t even look at me while he puts the seatbelt on and pushes the key into the ignition. “I’m glad you were more well behaved when we were at the concert.”, he says, a light gravel in his voice. A sound that does stuff to me. A sound that makes me brave and stupid.

"Do you know what a brat is?", I ask him and amusement paints my voice. I’m enjoying this way too much right now. Teasing him in person is so much better than over text.

He fully sideeyes me, pulling up one of his brows, then he turns his head to look at me. His gaze is heated, but I can see the restraint in it as well. He slowly tilts his head to the side and at the same pace the grin on my face falters, melting away. The hairs in my neck are starting to stand up and I have to suppress a shiver of excitement. From him just looking at me like I'm prey, someone to chase down, someone to devour.

"I'm familiar with the concept.", he says nonchalantly, leaning a bit towards me, when one of the corners of his mouth tips up. "Do you know what a brat tamer is?", he asks, smirking at me. And my brain short-circuits. My jaw drops, my chin is on the floor, figuratively speaking.

He laughs, short and darkly, as I'm still recovering from the sentence he just dropped. He straightens back up and fiddles with the ignition until the car starts.

"Sit up straight and put your seatbelt on for me, Liebes.", he says, his voice getting all authoritative. The tone makes my spine stiffen up and I do as he told me. He laughs again, seeing how I'm following his orders, when he shifts the car into gear. Without even looking at me, he drawls: "Good girl.", and I fold like a goddamn lawn chair. The little sigh dropping from my lips telling him (and me) exactly how this is making me feel.

He doesn't say anything, so I glance at him while he pulls onto the street. The smirk on his face is cocky and self-indulgent, his hair is still swept to one side and my god, the jawline with the scruff 5 o'clock shadow is doing stuff to me. The mental image forming in my head is so not safe for work.

Me splayed out on the bed, my front to the mattress. Him kneeling over me, his knees framing my ass as he's buried balls deep in my pussy. His strong hands have a tight grip on me, pushing me down into the soft sheets while he fucks me deep and slow, his hair whipping back and forth when his hips snap forward, his groin pressing up against the soft pillows of my ass repeatedly. Praise is falling from his lips, telling me that I'm his good girl, that I'm doing so well for him, that I feel so fucking good while his hand spanks my booty, alternating between my left and right cheek, reddening the skin with every slap.

His chuckle, the real König chuckling at me while driving, is pulling me from my dirty daydream and I can't help the blush forming on my cheeks. "Now where did you just drift off to?", he asks me.

"Nowhere.", I say, trying to deflect.

"Uh-huh.", he pulls up his brows, totally not believing me.

“Well, what did you expect when you told me-“ I lower my voice and mumble: “that you’re a brat tamer…” That pulls a laugh from him, a sound I’m already addicted to.

“You mean like when you told me that you’re a little brat?”, he throws back at me. “Two can play that game, Fräulein.”

I tilt my head to the side, but I can’t argue with that. “Touché.” I feel like we just dipped our toes into some unchartered territory that made everything a little bit more sexual than it already was, a little clearer where this is headed – probably sooner than later. Because even if we keep making jokes and bringing up our age difference (which I still think isn’t that bad), I can feel the pull of attraction towards him. And with the way he keeps looking at me, I’m sure he feels the same way.

We were flirty in our texts and we were touchy all evening. I remember the way my thighs hugged his neck when I sat on his shoulders. How his fingers dug into the pillowy flesh, holding me tight.

The way his arms closed around me, shielding me off from the people around us. Me shamelessly leaning into him, relishing the way his body feels against mine. How I felt safe at the concert with him as my personal bodyguard.

And every single thing heightened the feeling of need, of want, of desire that was already there when I saw him sitting at that table at the pub.

I try to hold off from squirming in my seat, having a hard time keeping my cool, especially when my eyes wander to him all the time while driving. How his knees almost graze the steering wheel, the way his knuckles strain when he grips it. His hair falling over the side of his face. The tattoos, the shirt he got hugging his biceps just the right way, just… every single detail.

I spend the ride home trying to keep my thoughts holy, but I can’t. His image and my imagination don’t seem to mix well.

He pulls up to my apartment complex, parking the car and turning the engine off, but he keeps the sound system running. He turns to me and the sentence I wanted to say gets stuck in my throat. I wanted to thank him for taking me to the concert, making me feel safe. Very obviously going out of his own comfort zone to accommodate me. Even when we still didn’t know each other for that long.

But the way he’s looking at me shuts me up before I can start talking. His gaze is intense, just like before and the effect is all the same. And I can’t tear my eyes from him, drinking him in.

“Don’t look at me like that.”, he says, not breaking eyecontact.

I bat my eyelashes at him, feigning nonchalance. “Like what?”

A little growl drops from his lips and the sound sends a wave of need between my legs. Like I even needed more of that. He leans a bit forward, inching closer and closer. “Like you want me to do something about this tension between us.”, he whispers, low and darkly.

“Maybe I do want that.”, I answer and he doesn’t need more encouragement than that.

His hands grab my face, his fingers tangle in my hair, and he presses his lips onto mine. His hold on me is soft, but the kiss is fiery. And for the first time I can really feel that he wants me as desperately as I want him.

I grab him, his t-shirt, pulling him against me. I can feel his broad chest under my fingertips, the warmth of his body, the hard muscles that I also was snuggled up against before. His leatherjacket falls from my shoulders and pools around my hips.

“Fuck.”, he grunts against my lips, letting one hand drop down to push the car seat back. He pulls me with him, onto his lap, my thighs spreading over it. His hand brushes down my back as his mouth finds mine once more to kiss me, feverish, demanding, needy. And I answer it with the same fervor, brushing my tongue against his, moaning as I taste him for the first time. The flavour of beer that we both drank cutting through his own scent.

He grabs my ass cheek, squeezing it through the fabric of my skirt and the touch is making me squirm in his lap, grinding onto him. I feel his hard length against me, straining against his jeans, my tights and panties not really being a barrier as I roll my hips, relishing the feeling of the fabric on my wetness. The feeling of his dick right underneath me.

“Do you wanna come upstairs?”, I breathe against his lips. I almost add that I don’t want to give my neighbors a show, but that seems to be a little on the nose.

He pulls my head back a bit, his eyes searching mine and I can see the unbridled lust in them. Other than that, it seems like he’s exercising restraint, stopping the movement of my hips on his lap. “If we do that, we’re gonna fuck.”, he states matter-of-factly.

His words colour my cheeks red. “I guess so.” is all I manage to say because the imagination alone is already making me hotter than I was before.

His gaze flits between my right and left eye, back and forth, like the answers are already pouring out of them. “Are you sure you want this?”, he asks softly.

I break eyecontact and nod because this whole interaction is making me shy all of a sudden. The brattiness is gone.

His hand that was still tangled in my hair strokes down the side of my face until his fingers grab my chin and turn it up, to make me look at him again. “Use your words, Liebes. Do you want me to fuck you?”, he rewords his question.

My breath halts in my throat and for a moment my mind goes completely blank. I just stare at him, swallowing down the nervousness I feel. “Yes.”, I answer him, my voice steadier than I would have expected.

He pulls up one of his eyebrows, looking at me like he’s expecting something more, the serious expression on his face turning heated and cocky.

“Please.”, I whisper which earns me a satisfied growl as he captures my lips again. The kiss is sloppier than the ones before, he bites my lower lip which sends a zap of pleasure right to my core and makes me moan against his lips some more.

He pulls back a little bit, his hot mouth pressing small pecks to my cheek and down to my neck, all while scooping me up and opening up the car door. He presses me flush against him as he gets out the car with me in his grasp, making sure I don’t bump my head on the car frame.

My arms wrap around his neck, my fingers digging into his shoulder, holding onto him, my thighs resting against his hips, while he locks the car and just uses one arm to steady me, like I weigh nothing. Well, to him I probably don’t.

Determination in his step, he approaches the building and I dig into my little bag with one hand to get the keys to my flat.

part 4

~ or More Stuff in the Masterlist ~

[crazyk-imagine]

Okay, so, I have an idea. Wade Wilson with a tall S/O (any gender is fine, but preferably fem) that can and does pick him up?

Tall Girls Rule and Wade Drools

Pairing: Wade "Deadpool" Wilson x Tall!reader

Characters: Wade "Deadpool" Wilson, Tall!reader, James "Bucky" Buchanon Barnes, Logan "Wolverine" Howlett, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Ellie "Negasonic Teenage Warhead" Phimister, Yukio, Natasha "Black Widow" Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff, Peter Parker

Warnings: Fluff, Wade is a warning himself, puns, dorkiness, terrible jokes and nicknames, reader lifts wade whenever, wade likes being babied, everyone likes and doesn't like him, they never know what to do with him, the avengers did not ask for wade but here he is, mention of alcohol or at least drinks, surprisingly no mentions of chimichangas, wade is a slut, reader does not fall for his antics, small xmen and avengers cross over, mentions of the forbidden unicorn

Word Count: 1k

Also based off this post

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

You're happy to hang out with your friends, even if the only reason you know them is because of your idiotic and chaotic boyfriend.

He still amazes you even though you two have been together for so long now.

-

Before the party, you were smoothing out the skirt of your dress and a slight breeze came through the window.

You’re worried with how thin the fabric feels, it might be too late to change.

“Hey babe?” You call out for him, not knowing where he wandered off too.

“Yes, sugarplum?”

“We vetoed that one two weeks ago,” you answer while adjusting your watch.

“Right, right. Yes, my anaconda don’t because she’s got the big buns hun?”

“That ones a little long.” You enter the kitchen and find him standing on the counter, making a mess. “Wade,” you sigh.

You walk towards the counter, placing your hands by his feet; seemingly trapping him in. “You’re not supposed to have sugar before we go out. You know you basically turn into a crackhead.”

“I take offense to that because, sugar–”

You mutter under your breath, “jesus.”

“- to be a crackhead, means you have to be on crack or have it in your veins.”

Your right eye twitches as he makes the motion to his elbow. “Did Peter show you that? I told him to ban you from tiktok.”

“Jecuze!”

You roll your eyes and pull him off the counter, tossing him over your shoulder.

-

You pause at his warm hands caressing your behind. “Wade.”

“Yes, juicy- I mean baby?”

“Stop playing with my ass.” You start walking towards your shared room once more.

“I thought you liked it when I played with you. You weren’t complaining last night.”

You toss him onto the bed and grab your earrings. “Shut up.”

You stand back, checking yourself out in the mirror. “Okay, be honest.”

“I’d totally-”

“No.” You turn to face him. “Can you see my nipples through this dress?”

He shakes his head, “no, don’t worry, but I’m sure they’re still there.” He leans back and looks you up and down. “If you want, I can give you an inspection. Come on,” he pats his lap. “Give papa some sugar.” 

You roll your eyes. “Go grab your unicorn and jerk off, you horndog.”

He whines and lets out a noise as he catches his stuffed friend.

-

You glance up from the table and turn to find Wade moving around like an insane person.

Part of you regrets dragging him out with you but another part of you doesn't and seeing him goof around to annoy Logan and Bucky makes you feel better. 

You turn back to Ellie and Yoko only to furrow your brows after finding them stare at you. "What?"

"Are you ever going to stop staring at him?" The dark haired girl asks.

"What's wrong with me looking at him?" 

"You stare at him like a lost puppy."

"I do not," you scoff.

Yoko places a hand on her girlfriend's shoulder, letting her know she needs to calm down and watch what she says.

Ellie doesn't mean to but sometimes her brain and her mouth aren't always in tune with one another and it leads to fights.

You glance back at Wade, watching as he messes around with Scott too. "I wanted to make sure everything was okay."

"Okay?"

You purse your lips, unsure if this is something you should be confessing. 

You decide against the logical part of your brain and tell the girls what's been on your mind.

Wanda makes her way over, dragging Natasha with her.

"Sorry, ladies," the shorter haired woman tells you.

"Our favorite bartender was dealing with a weirdo and we didn't get our drinks until now."

You all chuckle knowing she was referring to your boyfriend, who still stands beside America's sweetheart and his best buddy plus the others, annoying the absolute shit out of them.

"I said I was sorry but what was I supposed to do?"

Wanda turns to you, placing a hand on your shoulder, pulling your attention onto her. "Don't listen to Nat, she's joking with you. She’s actually happy to see him act, sort of, decent. I mean, we all are. He finally got manners."

You give her a small smile and nod, feeling the same way.

"I think that's the first time we all can ever agree on something about Wade," Ellie adds.

You cover your mouth chuckling, "definitely."

-

Wade turns around at the sound of your laughter.

The others can see how his eyes soften behind his mask.

None of them seeing the rainbows and dancing unicorns that envelope you.

"-ade? Wade?" Steve calls out.

"Yes, Mr. All American?"

The blond sighs, "I told you to stop calling me that."

"And I decided not to listen," he leans closer to whisper, "get a load of this guy, am I right? He's acting like he doesn't know me."

Bucky raises a brow at his behavior, not believing that someone can act the way he does even if he's known to man for a few years, Wade always has a way of surprising people with his antics. 

“Could you stop fawning over your girl for five minutes and chill?” Logan grunts.

Wade pretends to think on it. “Hmm no.”

He runs over to you and throws himself into your lap.

All the girls groan at his entrance.

You chuckle, “Hi honey.”

“Hi sugarplum, you having fun?”

You shake your head.

“Shut up, we were having more fun before you got here.”

He turns away from you. “I don’t know whether to be offended or not.”

Yoko stares at him concerned, “is he okay?”

You nod, “he’s fine.” You stand up, carrying him and set him beside Tony, needing him to stay with the boys. “Baby, stay here.”

“But-” He pouts.

“Wade.”

“Fine but if I’m drunk by the time we’re done, don’t blame me.”

"God help us," Logan mutters.

"I am the only God here." He turns away and uses the back of his hand muttering into the distance, whispering, "I'm still Marvel Jesus."

[7ndipity]

“That Way”

Jungkook x Plus Size Reader

Summary: Dinner with Jungkooks' parents leads to some interesting discoveries. Follow-up to False Pretenses. Part of the Yes or No series.

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: swearing, very suggestive at the end, reader wears a dress, Jk’s called a bitch(affectionately), one joke about Bam as an attack dog, not proofread

A/N: Another long overdue continuation! I hope you guys like it! I plan to update this series a lot more often now, so lmk what you think!

Masterlist Yes or No m.list

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Jungkook didn’t know why he was so nervous for tonight's dinner, everything else today had gone well.

His parents had arrived earlier in the morning, he had taken them out for lunch and to visit a few of their favorite places in the city, everything was perfectly fine.

Yet Jungkook couldn’t quite shake the odd, jittery feeling in his chest as he bustled around the kitchen, double and triple checking everything as he cooked.

He jumped slightly when he heard the doorbell, going to check the intercom to confirm that it was you before answering.

“What’s the password?” He called through the speaker.

“Jk’s a bitch.” You called back with a little smirk.

“Wrong.” He grinned, the tension in his body finally beginning to ease. “If you fail three times, I’ll have to sic Bam on you.”

“Then I guess I’ll just take this cake home for myself then.” You shot back, holding up a box from one of his favorite bakeries.

“Wait wait wait!” He let you in immediately, rushing to open the door for you as soon as he heard you knock.

“You know Bam’s way too sweet to serve as an attack dog right?” You asked with a laugh as you entered, moving to set the cake box on the kitchen counter.

He didn’t answer you, far too busy staring slack-jawed in shock at the sight of you.

You were dressed up, nothing too fancy, just a dark blue sundress with a cardigan, but it was a stark enough contrast to what he was used to seeing you in that he was left slightly dumbstruck for a moment. The way the deep blue color complemented your skin tone, the skirt floating over your hips, showing off your legs perfectly,

It would be soo easy for him to just slip his hands under the fabric and-

“Is it bad?”

Your voice caused his eyes to snap back up to yours. “What?”

“You’re staring, does it look weird?” You asked, shifting nervously.

“No-no, it looks great. You-, you look great.” He breathed.

Just then, the oven beeped in the kitchen behind the two of you, shaking him from his daze, making his way back to the stove.

“You’re cooking?” You questioned, following him.

“Yeah? Why, is that surprising?” He asked, shooting you a grin.

“No, not really.” You answered, glancing around cautiously. “Where are your parents?”

“Mom’s washing up and Dad’s napping.” He explained, nodding towards the hallway.

“Ah.” You nodded, lingering awkwardly behind him in the middle of the kitchen.

“Are you… nervous?” He asked, taking note of your anxious energy.

“A little?” You admitted, fidgeting with your sweater. “I haven’t met a lot of friends' parents before, I don’t really know what to do. What if they don’t like me?”

“Not possible.” He said, pulling you to him by the waist. “Two minutes with you and they’ll love you, trust me.”

You still looked unconvinced, chewing your lip nervously, so he leaned in, catching you off guard as he pressed his lips firmly to yours.

Despite your surprise, you relaxed into his hold almost instinctively, hands coming up to grip his shoulders, letting out a soft sound as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss, darting his tongue out to swipe across your bottom lip-

Just as quickly as the kiss began, Jungkook suddenly pulled away, stepping back from you.

“Wha?-” Before you could form a proper question, you picked up the sound of approaching footsteps.

You turned just in time to come face to face with Jungkooks’ mother as she rounded the corner, blinking slightly in surprise at the sight of you.

“Oh, hello, you must be Y/n.” She said warmly.

“I am, it’s nice to meet you.” You said, giving her a polite bow, your face heating up in embarrassment..

“Nice to meet you too.” She replied. “Jungkook’s told us a lot about you.”

“Ah, should I be worried?” You said, only half joking.

His mother chuckled. “Not at all, he speaks very highly of you.”

“Oh really?” You stole a glance over your shoulder at the person in question, his back to you, casually stirring a pot on the stove as if nothing had just happened.

“Don’t let that go to your head, I also told her that you’re a huge pain in the ass.” He replied, shooting you a smirk.

“Sure.” You grinned, turning back to his mother.

The two of you talked comfortably for a bit, his father coming through not long after that, quickly making introductions and joining in on your conversation as Jungkook finished dinner.

The rest of the evening passed peacefully. Dinner was surprisingly comfortable, his parents' friendly nature quickly putting you at ease, laughing at stories they shared of Jungkook’s childhood.

“Y/n seems like a very nice girl,” His mom commented, watching as you disappeared into the kitchen, having offered to serve dessert so that Jungkook could have a bit of a break.

“Yeah, she’s great.” He agreed with a fond smile, missing the way she was watching him.

“I’m glad you’ve found someone that makes you happy.” She added quietly after a moment.

He head whipped around, gaping at her in confusion.

“What?! That’s-, we're not-,” He spluttered. “Y/n and I aren’t dating, mom, we’re just friends.”

She just smiled at him, almost pityingly. “You don’t have to lie, Sweetie, I saw the way you look at each other. Friends don’t look at each other that way.”

“What are you talking about?!” He glanced over at his father for support, but he was met with a mildly amused expression from him. “Y/n is-”

His voice died off instantly as you returned with the cake, picking back up your previous conversation with his mother, completely missing the way Jungkook continued to glance at his mother in disbelief.

The rest of the evening passed without any further incident. You noticed the way Jungkook had suddenly turned rather quiet, seeming very lost in thought, causing you to wonder what was bothering him, but you decided to wait until his parents left to say anything.

Closing the door after they left, he let out a deep sigh, slumping against you tiredly.

“You okay?” You giggled, trying to hold his weight up.

“Thank you.” He mumbled, straightening enough to wrap his arms around you, drawing you close.

“You’re welcome.” You replied, amused at his sudden soft demeanor.

His hands trailed down over your figure, lightly kneading your hips as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

“Stay over?” He asked softly, letting his lips brush against your skin as he spoke. “Let me thank you for everything.”

“I didn’t do that much though.” You argued, tilting your head to the side to give him more access.

“You did.” He breathed. “You’ve done so much.”

You chuckled, squirming slightly in his hold as his hands ghosted back up over your sides.

“Damn, Koo, what’s got you all sentimental?” You teased, brushing your fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck.

He didn’t answer, drawing back just enough to meet your gaze, his dark eyes swirling with something you couldn’t quite place before he was crashing his lips against yours with a bruising force.

His hands hungrily roamed your body, groping at your hips and ass, causing you to whine into his mouth, wordlessly begging for more.

Refusing to separate from you for more than a second, he guided you down the hallway to his bedroom, not bothering with the light before pushing you down onto the bed and climbing over you.

This had to be his favorite view in the whole world; you spread out beneath him, skin flushed, chest heaving, sweet little mouth already red and ruined by his ministrations.

His hands traced up your legs, finally bunching up the material of your dress like he'd been dying to do all evening, firmly but gently spreading your legs apart to reveal the growing damp patch on your underwear, showing him just how affected you were by him.

"Fuck,” A low growl left his lips, your scent making his head spin. “I've been starving."

Without another word, he dove in.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @bo0o0o0ooo @universal-travel-er @ldysmfrst

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Bread (Pero x wifey!reader)

Read on AO3

Sequel to Seed and Sprout. (Series now very cleverly titled Pero x wifey!reader)

Fandom: The Great Wall

Tags/warnings: Pero eats it from the back, PinV sex, Pero goes a little hard, some cum play, breeding kink blink and you'll miss it.

Words: 1,806

Summary: You mean to bake bread while the baby is napping, but your husband Pero has other plans.

A/N: Thanks to @pazizz for the idea, and sorry to keep you hanging for so long!

The rain is pitter-pattering against the windows, and you gaze out at the gray world outside. Autumn has arrived, and with it a slowing down of things, chores, life. You welcome it, after a hot summer that, in addition to your normal chores, included taking care of a baby. Not that little Tomás was too difficult: you strapped him to your body and carried him while doing your chores, it was as simple as that. He slept uneasily during the nights, but Pero gladly walked around with night after night, rocking him in his arms, patiently despite the crying. An upside to this was that the baby slept well during the days, and now you have a bread dough that has been rising since last night, and at least two hours to bake.

Sleeves rolled up, you spread flour on the table and begin to knead the dough. The baking oven spreads its heat in the kitchen, and soon your hairline is damp and your cheeks rosy and shiny. Still, you hum to yourself as you work the dough, rejoicing in the feeling of your strong arms, the smell of the dough, the warmth of your home. You loosen the laces that adjust your neckline, allowing it to widen enough to drop down one shoulder. You are still breastfeeding, and Tomás ate well before his nap, so your breasts feel wonderfully light.

The door opens and Pero steps in, bringing with him a gush of autumn. Stepping out of his boots and hanging up his coat, he is then left standing at the door for a moment, watching you. Looking up, you smile at him.

”Everything okay?”

”Yes.”

You go back to the dough, and Pero walks to the bedroom door.

”Is the baby asleep?”

”Just went down.”

”Good.”

Pero comes up behind you, hands low on your hips as he kisses your sweaty neck.

”Seeing you like this makes me stiff,” he murmurs, trailing his lips down your neck. You don’t stop kneading for one second.

”Like what?”

”Sweaty, disheveled, tits out.”

A shiver runs down your spine at your husband’s low voice, and when he presses himself against your ass – oh, he is stiff indeed! – your hands come to a stop, and a tiny whimper escapes you.

”Pero, I don’t have time, I need to do this before he wakes up...” you protest feebly, fingers thick in the dough as you turn your head to allow Pero better access to your neck.

”I’ll watch him if he wakes up before you’re finished,” he vows as he slowly moves his hands to your front, cupping your tits and pushing them up.

”The oven is hot now, I can’t keep it this warm for long...” you try, eyes closing when Pero’s hands roam further, one up to your neck, fingers softly closing over your wild pulse, the other down between your legs, cupping you over the fabric of your skirts.

”The oven will be fine, I however will perish if I don’t get to taste my wife...”

Your dripping cunt makes the decision for you, and you turn your head more, finding his lips, and give your consent in a desperate kiss. Pero pushes you against his hand, against the table, hard cock rubbing your buttocks through layers of clothing. You mean to turn around, but he keeps you in place.

”You said you were in a hurry,” he grins into the kiss, and releases your neck to quickly gather up your skirts. A strong, broad hand between your shoulder blades guides you to bend over the table, and he kneels behind you.

”Open up for me, wife,” he breathes ruggedly, hot breath burning your uncovered sex. You obey, parting your legs more, and hold your breath in anticipation, release it in a low moan when Pero finally kisses your cunt.

How could you ever say no to your husband? During your recuperation time from childbirth, Pero had respectfully waited, given you all the time you needed to be ready for intimacy again. He never rushed or pressured you, but you could tell after a couple of months that he was aching for you. And truth be told, so were you.

You know Pero better than anyone, know the man behind the scarred glare the rest of the world saw. You know so very intimately how that glare can soften, how lovingly the callused hands can caress.

And still, seeing Pero with his son opened up a whole new understanding of him. He is so gentle with the baby, so careful and patient. And his devotion to you has grown more than you thought possible since you gave him your son. He loved you, adored you, respected you before, now he worships you.

How could you say no to such a man? A man who sees you bake bread, and immediately grows hard in his breeches? Who is now on his knees behind you, devouring your cunt?

You don’t. Instead, you push back, stoking his hunger and your pleasure when he sucks at your bud, as gluttonous as the baby suckling your breast. He kneads your buttocks like you kneaded the dough earlier, fingers pushing and pinching into your soft flesh. You scratch at the table like you’re trying to hold onto the surface, flour powders your sweaty chest and the front of your clothes but you don’t care when your toes start to curl inside your socks as Pero’s lips and tongue take tighten the spring deep inside you. You mewl, your thighs shake, and Pero growls into your cunt, latches on and sucks hard. You slap your hand over your mouth to cover the loud moan that your climax pulls from you, and your nostrils are filled with finely ground flour that makes you snort and giggle, all the while Pero lavishes your dripping cunt with kisses.

”My love, my beautiful wife,” he murmurs between the kisses. ”So beautiful, so wet for me.”

You wipe your nose with the back of your hand and mumble something in reply. Pero kisses your buttocks, both of them, before standing up with a grunt. He pulls you up and holds you flush against him, back to chest, and seeks your lips for a kiss. He, however, stops when he sees your face, then smiles widely.

”You have a little flour on you, wife.”

With one big thumb, he gently brushes at your lips and cheeks before kissing you. He tastes of moss and sea; the flavours of your sex, your release, and you push back against him, eager for more.

”What is a little flour spilled compared to knowing my husband’s big cock?” you quip, earning a low chuckle before he presses his lips to yours once more. You reach behind you, find his belt and tug at it to let him know that you need him, and you sigh into the hungry kisses when Pero unbuckles his belt and opens the front of his breeches. His cock springs free, immediately seeking its way between your upper inner thighs, like it can smell you. You reach down, finding him and leading him right. Pero groans when the thick head slides in, his grip on you tightens momentarily, and you whine when he pushes on, further in, until you’re trapped between his hips and the table, your cunt full of his thick, hard cock. The kisses have ebbed out, you’re just breathing heavily against each other’s lips now, and Pero swallows audibly before pressing his forehead to your shoulder. You lick your lips and move back, hissing at the fullness.

”Husband, I need you,” you beg breathlessly, ”take me now, hurry.”

Roused by your plea, Pero takes a firm hold of your hips, and starts to rut into you. It’s in moments like these that you feel his strength, sense his violent past as a warrior. He grips you hard, teetering on the edge of too hard but never crossing the line, and ravages you in a way that doesn’t seem to belong in this quiet life, this sheltered village by the sea, where nothing ever happens and people are farmers and fishermen.

But being fucked like this does belong in your life, and you relish it, love the way he claims you, love the adventure of his force, and the way it frees you, makes you feel like something wild and untamed. You’re not ashamed when you ask him to go harder, and you lean over the table, hands clamped over your mouth when he does. Your hips will be bruised later from hitting the edge of the table over and over again, your front is covered in flour, Pero is growling somewhere behind and above you, and you claw at the table when it’s almost too much, but your still want more.

When he reaches his climax, he pushes all the way in, shoving the table forward an inch, and he lays down on you with a loud groan. You feel his cock pulsate inside you, your insides stained with rich, thick cum, and you turn your head to chase his lips for a kiss. His facial hair grates at your cheek and chin as you try to kiss but it’s mostly just panting into each other’s mouth. Still, you need it, need his breath, his weight on you, his hand that you only just now realize is around your neck, thumb slowly stroking your jugular. You swallow, and he feels it.

”Was I too rough?” he asks hoarsely, hands all soft and gently searching your skin for sore spots. You shake your head, smiling blissfully.

”No, husband, never. It was divine.”

He chuckles tiredly against your ear, one hand leaving your body to push himself up to stand. Your hum, the angle changing how he feels inside of you, and you realize that he’s still hard. He pulls out, however, and caresses your buttock.

”Being inside you is divine,” he tells you gruffly, and you hum, slowly rising up. Pero’s seed starts to ooze out of your cunt, and he places a hand on your lower back, stopping you. You feel the tip of his cock against your folds, catching the cum that seems so cold when outside your body, and then he slides back in, pushing his cum back inside you with a whimper. You catch your lower lip between your teeth in a throaty exhale.

”Pero...”

”I know, my love, I just don’t want to waste it.”

He pulls you up and brings you against himself in a soft embrace, dry lips on your neck. Shivering from the overstimulation, he still doesn’t stop his slow movement inside you.

”Don’t want in anywhere but inside your juicy cunt...”

You moan again, wanton and shameless, like a bitch in heat.

”Then fuck it deeper, husband.”

[nocasdatsgay]

Sharing Is Caring: A Neapolitan Bond’s Fic

Day four of @polyacotarweek : Adventure

Summary: Azriel has a surprise for you after the ball in Hewn City. That Surprise is Rhys and Feyre.

Master Post| Poly Week Master Post| A03 Link

Rating: E| Word Count: 4339| Pairings: Azriel/Eris/Reader, Feyre/Rhysand, Azriel/Rhysand, Feyre/Reader

Warnings: Rope Bunny!Reader, all sorts of various sex, bdsm undertones, consensual partner switching, Azriel and Reader POVs

A/N: I don’t elaborate fully but I do mention there are established rules amongst the three of them. Kink plays into this but it’s unspoken understanding that they can and will stop or refuse something at any time. The part where Az explains rules laid out is more about Eris being the dominant in that moment than it is about their poly bond. Feyre and Rhys are a “surprise” but it’s been discussed off scene that yes, being with them is on the table for all three participants.

Tagging: @saltedcoffeescotch @hieragalbatorixdottir @ysmtttty @mybestfriendmademe

You shivered when Az slipped two fingers between your bare skin and where the rope rested on your back. He was checking to make sure Eris didn’t wrap it too tight. He gave a hum of approval and withdrew them. 

“How do you feel?” He leaned in by your right ear. “How is your breathing?”

“I'm good. I can breathe fine.” 

You inhaled sharply on instinct. The ropes wrapped all around your chest and waist were comfortable. Restrictive and snug, but not as tight as you’ve had them before. Decorative knots trying them in place pressed along your spine. You couldn’t see them but they felt nice. Az kissed your cheek. 

“Good. Now slip on your dress and let’s see how it looks.” 

You turned, and walked to the bed. You’d laid out dress before Eris came in. Your cheeks heated as you picked it up, your hands visible through the thin fabric. The room instantly filled with the scent of both your mates as you pulled on the dress. You turned to face them- eyeing Eris specifically. 

Azriel had picked out this dress for your visit to the Night Court. Eris would not be attending- just you and Azriel as representatives of the Autumn Court. Which was why Azriel had Eris practice his harness, so you’d feel him even if he wasn’t there. Though there was arousal in the air, you felt the annoyance from Eris through his bond before he shut it down. 

“It’s not that bad, is it?” You bit your lip and walked over to the mirror. 

The dress itself was beautiful. Gray with an iridescent sheen, cut in faux modesty. The swooping neckline wasn’t low enough to show off your breasts. But the fabric was thin and it didn’t stop the red rope from shining through- or the color of your areolas. The fabric was less see-through around your hips thankfully. But two high slits in the skirt left little to the imagination. The sleeves were long and when you turned, the knots of the rope could be seen like flowers along your back. 

Eris cleared his throat. “I don’t know if I can’t let you leave like that.”

“Hold on,” you replied. 

Skirts billowed between your legs as you walked to the bathing room. You knew his issue was your breasts. Territoral brat, you thought with a giggle. There was a trick you picked up in Dawn- they loved their flowy fabrics but that came at a cost of thickness. You just had to remember where you put them. You dug around in your drawers and found it- two cloth discs close to the color of your skin and a bottle. You took them to the sink and laid them out. As you shook the bottle and Eris and Azriel came into the bathing chamber. 

“What in the cauldron is that?” Eris asked. 

“Samira gave me these.” You replied simply. 

“That doesn’t tell us what it is, baby,” Az chuckled. 

You ignored him and pulled at the neckline, careful to not stretch it too much. You took the one you just outlined with the sticky paste and gently placed it on your breast. Once you were satisfied, you first looked in the mirror and it wasn’t visible outside the dress. You turned to your mates. 

“Better?” You asked. 

“Yes,” Eris grumbled. 

He still frowned, looking between your covered breast and uncovered one. Azriel was grumpy as well but for a different reason. You knew he was put out by the fact your your breasts weren’t visible any longer. He loved showing you off, unlike Eris. You liked it too but felt this was a good compromise. Last thing you all needed was Eris storming the Court of Nightmares to kidnap you because he couldn’t stop thinking about you and your exposed skin. 

You put the other one on and adjusted the dress when you were done. The rope was still visible and beautiful under the dress but only the shape of your breasts were visible now. You went and put the bottle back and once again turned to your mates. 

“Can we go now?” You asked innocently. 

Az was already dressed, black leather trousers and a deep gray formal shirt cut to fit around his wings to go with the dress. You did your hair and makeup before Eris put the ropes on you and it was getting dark. Az might be a fan of ‘fashionably late’ but you weren’t. 

“Yes,” Eris looked between the two of you. “And I better not get another note from Rhys saying someone caught you in the corridors again.” 

You and Az both rolled your eyes at the same time. You were just kissing- but someone blew it out of proportion. Probably because Az had his hand up your dress on your thigh. You blinked realizing right then that’s why Azriel bought this dress with high slits. You tugged his bond and he tugged back sending a smug confirmation. Ass. You sighed and walked up to Eris to give him a chaste kiss on the lips. 

“I’ll behave Daddy.” Fire flashed in his eyes as you ducked away, knowingly teasing him. 

“I make no promises,” Az added, he too giving Eris a quick kiss. “Is what we talked about still on the table?” 

“Yes,” Eris cut his eyes to you. “But only if you want it.”

You didn’t know what it was. Azriel told you he might have a surprise after the ball. If it was something Eris agreed to then it fell under the established rules between the three of you. Though you were certain that surprise was actually a someone or someones. 

“Of course,” you replied, waving him off. 

As if your mates ever forced you to do something you didn’t want.

“We will be back tomorrow,” Az took your arm. He smirked at Eris. “If we don’t return by noon I’m sure you know how to storm Hewn City.” 

“Don’t tempt me. Enjoy your little adventure,” he said sarcastically. 

You clung tightly to Az as his shadows enveloped you, shadow walking you into Hewn City. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The party went as well as you could expect. Azriel put on a cold persona, guarding you very closely in the beginning until you were near the High Lord and High Lady. He relaxed a little after. Mostly due to Cassian riling him up. The teasing between them did not escape you, not when it was more than what they did during visits to Valeris. 

You stayed near Nesta and Feyre, Nesta dragging you out to the dance floor more than once to make Cassian and Azriel pay attention to you both. By the time it was past midnight, you were firm in belief of what surprise Azriel had in store for you. 

You both headed to suite Eris normally used on Hewn City. The room even smelled like him when Az shut the door behind you. You were making your way to the bathing when Az pulled you by the ropes under your dress so you were back against his chest. He kissed your neck while shadows circled you both. 

“Are you up for playing?” He whispered in that deep tone that made your eyes roll back. 

“Maybe.” You hummed as he kissed your neck again and his hand came up to cup your breast. “Just us or will we have a guest?”

“You know me so well,” Az nipped at your ear. 

“Who is it?” 

“Rhys and Feyre.” He felt you tense and immediately added. “We don’t have to baby, it’s just a suggestion.”

You moved out of his hold to face him. “It’s not that. I just- I thought it would be Cassian.” Your face heated at the confession. 

Az’s gaze went dark and he grinned at you. “Do you want to play with Cassian?” 

“Maybe, but it was just how he talked to you tonight, I thought-” Heat creeped up to your ears. You didn’t know why it was embarrassing. “Well I- liked it.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time. I’ll tell Rhys you said no-“

“I didn’t say no.” He cut his eyes to yours and you saw his wings flare out a little. “I just said I thought it was going to be Cassian and Nesta. I’ll play with Rhys and Feyre.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yes sir.” 

His cedar scent sweetened and he dropped his eyes to your chest. “Take those fucking nipple covers off first, then we will go.” 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Az shadow walked you to the open hall of moonstone palace. The chill air made your nipples harden under the fabric now that your covers were removed. He took your hand and led you down the hall. 

“Eris said you can have Feyre any way you like but Rhys can only use his fingers on you.” He whispered into your ear. “But if you want, he suggested you sit on his face and humble him.” 

“And you?” Your body was already flushing at the idea.

“I can have Rhys if I want to. If I do anything with Feyre, it’s up to you.” 

“Do you think I’ll get jealous?” Your giggle echoed along with your footsteps. 

“I would be offended if you didn’t.” He kissed your cheek. 

Azriel finally stopped at a door. He didn’t knock- you assumed he alerted them with his mind as there was no shock from the occupants when you stepped inside. Across one side of the room was a large bed. Big enough for Illyrian wings and others comfortably. Right across from the bed were two chairs who housed the current room occupants. Az dropped his hand to your lower back, guiding you towards them. 

Rhysand and Feyre watched the two of you, their gazes made it look like they knew something you didn’t. Your nerves spiked; you put up your mental shields like Eris taught you just to put yourself at ease. Az stopped in front of them. Feyre’s gaze raked over you. Rhys was the one who broke the silence. 

“Did you enjoy the party?” 

“We did,” Az replied. “But I think we’re going to have much more fun here.” Az, ever the flirt. 

“We have rules.” You said it quickly, your nervousness coming out. “Did Az explain them? Before?”

“Yes, baby,” he chuckled, answering for Rhys. He always found your nervousness cute. “You don’t have to worry about Rhys. He knows what he can and cannot do with you.” 

“I won’t get you in trouble,” Rhys winked at you. For some reason that made you blush. 

Feyre stood, her white gown glistening in the fae lights. It was a beautiful dress; a halter top with a high slit. It was even more beautiful in contrast to her tattoos. But you always thought Feyre was beautiful. The air between you was charged even though she stood a few steps away from you. 

“Can I see? The ropes?” Feyre’s eyes widened with what appeared to be excitement. “I have never seen that before.”

You looked to Az and he nodded, removing his arm from you. You slipped the dress down off your arms and shoulders, letting the fabric gather at your hips. Feyre’s mouth fell open as she looked you over. 

“It’s so pretty,” she breathed, walking around you. You preened under her attention. “Did you do this,” she asked Az from behind you. 

“Eris did.” 

“Can I touch you?” Feyre stopped in front of you and bit her lip. 

“You may.”

She reached out and touched the rope that wrapped around and lifted your right breast. You inhaled sharply, trying to not gasp. Her finger tips skimmed across the rope, ghosting along your skin. She looked up at you again and you didn’t have to see her pupils were blown out. You could smell her. 

“Can I touch you,” she asked again, damn near breathless. You knew what she meant. 

“Please.”

You swore you heard your mate chuckle. Her hand went to your breast and you whined. She stepped closer and ran her thumb along your nipple. You didn’t ask permission when you leaned in and kissed her. Gods you hadn’t kissed another female in so long. You both sighed and your arms went around her neck. Her lips were softer than both your mates and she tasted sweeter too when you slipped your tongue in. 

While your hands undid the clasp on the back of her neck that connected her dress, Feyre pushed at the fabric gathered at your hips. She hummed against your lips when her fingers met bare skin instead of underwear. Shoes were kicked off and the clasps on Feyre’s dress let the straps fall off her, her heavy breasts freed. You pulled away to look at her, your hand running down over her chest to cup said breast. 

“Beautiful,” you muttered. 

You glanced up at her and circled your thumb on her nipple. That was all it took for her to push off her dress and push you onto the bed. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Az was mesmerized watching you kiss and undress Feyre. He didn’t even tell you to stop and ask for permission- you looked too happy. That and his shadows hissed at him to leave you be. He fell back in the chair behind him and just watched, his cock stirring in his pants as the smell of you hit him hard. 

Azriel. 

Rhys. 

He didn’t bother to look at him, still watching you and Feyre climb onto the bed together. His hand absentmindedly rubbing his now hardened cock through his trousers. Then his view was obscured. His focus shifted to look up at Rhys. 

I didn’t ask for you to come here just for you to ignore me all night. He smirked. 

Then get on my lap. 

Rhys stared at him, thinking. Or at least pretending to. Az knew Rhys well enough that even after centuries he still had to act like he wasn’t eager. Azriel’s wings flared out as Rhys moved and straddled his thighs. Az reached and grabbed his ass, pulling him close. Rhys finally leaned in and pressed his lips to Azriel’s. There was a content sigh that left him when Rhys slipped his tongue into his mouth. Az didn’t know if he wanted to curse or praise Rhysand’s silk trousers. They were making him slide against Az’s leather pants while in his lap and each time Azriel pulled him forward, Rhy’s hardness would bump against his own. 

Gods I missed you. Rhys moaned into his mouth. 

Az missed him too. He loves Eris and you; but he still missed being with Rhys and even Cassian. Only fleetingly; you and Eris satisfied his heart and soul. That didn’t mean he was immune to reminiscing about the times before. He was surprised Eris let him do this when he asked. 

Az groaned and bit Rhys’s lip. 

“Fuck,” Rhys pulled back gasping. Az looked up concerned. 

Your mate just gave mine one hell of an orgasm. Rhys started to laugh softly. 

Already? 

I may have been edging Feyre all night. Rhys grinned smugly. 

Azriel’s shadows started to work on their clothes, undoing his and Rhysand’s pants. Az was grateful- he felt your pleasure building through the bond. One look around Rhys and he saw you with Feyre crawling over your body.  

Looks like Feyre is about to return the favor. Az chuckled. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The moment you were on the bed, you made Feyre lay up at the top. You gave her just a moment before you lavished kisses on her body, leading yourself down to settle between her legs. Feyre tasted as good as she smelled. You immediately lapped up her wetness, your tongue finding her clit and your fingers slipping into her with ease. 

That’s good. Feyre spoke it into your mind but moaned loudly. Oh that’s really good. 

It was weird being able to talk to Feyre without using your voice but nice at the same time. You felt around for a moment inside her and Feyre bucked against your face. 

Found it.

You grinned and sucked on her clit. It did not take long- Feyre squirmed on the bed, pulled at your hair and a few minutes later she gasped and was pulsing hard around your fingers as you worked her through it. She was catching her breath when you pulled out your fingers, sticking them in your mouth to lick them clean. 

Rhys edged me before you got here. Her pretty face flushed. 

Those do make for the best orgasms. Az edged me so much one time that I came just from Eris touching me. 

You looked her over as you pulled your fingers out of your mouth. You realized she had a faint glow to her. 

“You glow.” 

“Only when it’s good.” She smirked. 

“Glad to know I made it good.” You smirked back.

You moved back over her, intending to just kiss for a moment. However, Feyre was in your mind and looking up at you while biting her lip.

Can I, you know, go down on you?

You don’t have to. 

Feyre ignored your reply. She flipped you over onto the bed so she was over you now. 

I want to. Tell me what to do.  

So you did. You laid back and let her kiss down your body, taking her time and touching the rope still on you. When she finally settled between your legs, you told her to just do what she liked done on herself. You still had to guide her a little. She moved her tongue differently than Az and Eris, a welcomed change that had you rubbing yourself against her face. 

Careful you said when she pushed her fingers into you. You have longer nails. 

Right, sorry.  Feyre made sure to be gentle.  

“Good girl,” you whispered when the pads of her fingers found that spot inside you. 

She moaned against you and you pushed your hands into her hair. Looking up you could see Rhys sitting in Azriel’s lap. Shadows were flurrying around them. You focused on the bond. You could feel Az’s joy in taking care of Rhys. You pushed your pleasure through and grinned when you felt him tug back with a warning. You weren’t pushing your luck, not tonight. You went back to focusing on Feyre and mummering your praise as she brought you over the edge. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

With the help of his shadows, he had Rhys’s shirt open and his pants undone. While Az let his own shirt slide off onto the floor behind the chair, he kept his trousers laced. Az wanted to focus on Rhys first. Rhys was insatiable as ever, his kisses getting rougher while shadows played with his chest and nipples. Az forced him back long enough to spit on his hand and start stroking Rhys’s cock. 

Rhys groaned and went back to kissing him. Azriel’s strokes were slow, almost lazy. He loved working his partners up and this was no different. He felt you through the bond, like a questioning pulse. Az sent down his feelings and let you know he was enjoying himself. You sent back pleasure that shot down his spine and made his hips buck. 

Your mate? Rhys grinned against his lips. 

She’s being a brat. Az replied playfully. 

Azriel tugged the bond once: a warning if you didn’t back off, you’d be in trouble. You seemed to take the hint and your side of the bond backed off. Az went back to stroking and kissing Rhys. It didn’t take much longer for the High Lord to reach the edge. Az pulled back. He stroked him faster and leaned in to bite at his neck. Rhys roared a curse and a rumble went through the mountain as he came all over Az’s hand and between their chests. 

“What the fuck was that?” Your voice carried loudly. 

Az busted out laughing, still stroking Rhys who for once looked embarrassed. 

“If it’s good, he makes the mountains shake,” Az could hear Feyre giggling as she said it. 

“Not funny,” Rhy shoved at Azriel’s hand but didn’t move off him. He buried his face against Az’s neck. Something he hadn’t done since they were youths. 

“Poor Illyrian baby,” Feyre called out. 

“Every time?” You asked. He could see you looked shocked. “This is a High Lord thing, isn’t it? Eris makes the fireplace damn near explode sometimes.” 

Rhys pulled back, brows raised at Az. “Does he?”

Az laughed. “He’s getting better at controlling it. Something you could learn to do.” He looked around to you again. “I’m going to tell him you spilled his secret.” 

“It’s not a secret when the whole damn Forest House knows. They’re just too polite to say it to his face.” You grumbled just loud enough for him and Rhys to hear. 

Azriel tugged the bond twice and you tugged back once. A promise to behave. He turned his attention back to Rhys. 

“You made a mess. I think you should clean it up.” 

“You’re just trying to get me to suck your cock,” Rhys leaned in and kissed him hard. “You’re lucky that it works on me.” 

“I am good at getting High Lords on their knees.” 

Az laughed when Rhys shot him a look, slipping off his lap and tucking himself back into his pants. 

You could just fuck me. Rhys sank to his knees. Or did Eris say no?

He was afraid Rhys would ask. He didn’t have it in him to explain his feelings about it. He just sighed aloud and mentally replied. 

I say no. It’s nothing personal.

Understood. 

Rhys didn’t push it. He used his magic to clear away the mess and then focused on undoing Azriel’s trousers. Az sat back and watched Rhys take him out of his trousers and immediately take him into his mouth. Az slumped in his chair, the tension he’d been feeling all night seeping out of him. Rhys remembered just how he liked it too, tongue swirling around the head of his cock each time he pulled back. 

Az didn’t draw it out. He grabbed Rhys by his hair and forced him to take him down his throat. Rhys choked and Az came, spilling down his throat. He let go and watched Rhys pull back and gasp for air. Which was probably the hottest thing he’d seen all night. Az went to tuck himself back into his trousers but you tugged on the bond. 

“Az,” you called out from the bed. You and Feyre were grinning at him and Rhys. “Would you be up to playing with Feyre?”

Az looked at Rhys. 

Rhys gave him a lazy smile. Don’t look at me like that. I want to watch.

Of course you do. Az chuckled.

Instead of redoing his pants, he shoved them off. Rhys did the same and they both joined you and Feyre on the bed. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After bidding them good night,  Az shadow walked you both to the room. Mostly because you didn’t want to put your dress and shoes back on. Az was similarly nude, clothes in hand. You wanted to wipe down and go to bed; the sooner morning came, the sooner you could get the ropes off. You loved them but sometimes the feeling was overstimulating. You didn’t dare ask Az to take them off you if only because it would put out Eris. The smell hit you first. The room smelled like Eris earlier but it was stronger now. Your whole body relaxed when you spotted him in the chair by the fireplace.

”Miss us so much you had to storm the city before dawn?” Az asked. 

Eris cut his eyes up from the book in his lap, looking between the two of you. 

“I take it you had fun,” he slipped a paper into the book and closed it. 

“Yes.” You dropped your clothes and went up to him. He set the book aside and let you climb into his lap. “Thank you.” You kissed him hard. 

“You don’t have to thank me, love,” he whispered when you pulled back. “It was Azriel’s idea.”

You could hear Azriel in the background moving around the room but you remained where you were. You needed to tell him. The guilt was on your face, you knew it. 

“I told them about the fireplace.” Eris blinked at you. “I’m sorry, Rhys made the whole fuckin mountain shake and I- I was a little worked up from… Feyre. It just came out.”

Eris bursted out with laughter. “Gods, the whole mountain?” 

“Are you mad?”

”No,” Eris tried to stifle his laughter but failed. “By the mother, he’s been a High Lord for centuries and he still cannot control himself?”

You blinked, a little confused. Az spoke up from the other side of the room. 

“To be fair, he didn’t start that until he met Feyre.” He said. “I think he showed off once and forgot how to turn it off.”

There was silence for a beat before Eris looked you over. “You look tired, love.” He stroked the bare skin of your thighs with his thumbs. “You also reek of Night Court.” 

“Sleep first.” You laid your head against his shoulder, slumping into his grasp. “Can you take the ropes off?” 

“Of course.” 

He used his magic and the ropes vanished. You closed your eyes and sighed, relieved now that nothing was pressing against your skin. He must have used his magic to clean you or glamour on you one; the smells from Rhys and Feyre on you were stifled. You felt another pair of hands on you. Azriel pulled you out of Eris’s lap. You grumbled in protest. 

“I’m just putting you to bed, grumpy,” Az chuckled. He carried you and placed you on the bed, pulling the blanket up.

You wanted to protest. You had so much to tell Eris but sleep was pulling you into its grasp quickly. You’d tell Eris about your adventures in the morning you decided; as long as Az didn’t do it first. 

[azsazz]

Bleed for Me

Vampire!Azriel x Reader

Summary: for @hyemishii “I love it !! Maybe a next part with overprotecting Az at the meeting ??”

Warnings: blood

Word Count: will fill in later I wrote this on notes lmao

Notes: a lil vamp az is the perf bday treat, also not edited cuz I wrote this at work 😳

———————————————————————

“Hello there,” a soft voice greets.

You flinch, your nearly empty wine glass slipping from your fingers. You and the male who’s snuck up on you watch as the glass shatters on the ground, the dark red of the wine splashing against the bright stone floors like blood.

The room goes silent, and you’re entirely sure that the only sound in the room right now is the frantic pounding of your heart.

Glancing at the male, you take in his auburn hair, unruly and hanging slightly in his eyes in a way that looks so well practiced. His skin is pale, paler than most of the vampires in this room, making his freckles stand out across his strong cheekbones. It looks a little too closely like the wine splattered on the floor, and he takes you in with a hungry gaze, iris’ so burnt they almost look red.

“I—um, I’m so sorry,” you stutter. You don’t like the way that he’s staring down at you, tracing the lines of your body and pausing intently at the necklace of Azriel’s blood around your neck. He smirks and it makes your heart drop. “Let me…”

You trail off, sinking down to clean up the mess you’ve made. The male is wearing fine shoes, pristine and you want to hide, heat burning your cheeks because you see the flecks of wine on the caramel leather, and on the deep navy cuffs of his pants. You peek up around the room, grabbing blindly at chunks of glass as you search for Azriel.

You told him you’d be okay—demanded it really—while he went to speak to Rhysand and Cassian about some important manner. He’d wanted to take you with, but you refused. You don’t need his protection, you don’t want it. You thought it would be the perfect chance to escape, but now you just feel like a deer surrounded by bloodthirsty wolves.

Pain flashes through your finger and you hiss, jerking your attention back to the broken glass on the floor. You’ve nicked your finger, and a bead of red pools at the tip, your mouth parting in a curse as your body and all of the others in the room straighten and zero in on your wound, undoubtedly smelling the faint metallic that you can’t.

You shoot to your feet, searching the room for Azriel. He’s not here, you know it. You’d recognize the wings, the malicious aura that’s been pooling off of him since you were met at the door and he’d jokingly not been invited inside. You curse, wishing he were he now.

“Hurt yourself, did you?” The male asks, head cocked to the side. You catch the slight flare of his nostrils as he breathes in the scent of your blood. His pupils are pinpoints and his smile scares you. Taking a step back he’s already there, catching your wrist in his cold hands and bringing your hand up to his face, studying the wound. “Clumsy, little fawn.”

“Stop,” you plead., trying to pull your hand from his but it’s no use, you’re nowhere near strong enough. He brings you in, flicking his tongue against the crimson coating your finger and hums with pleasure.

“So sweet,” he answers, wicked grin flashing sharp fangs. “Has Azriel gotten a taste yet?”

You open your mouth to speak, to scream, but you flinch at the figure that appears over your shoulder, a dark mass that commands the attention of the room, even if he’s only a warrior and holds no power over courts.

“Yes, he has,” Azriel growls, a lie. “Unhand her. Now, Eris. Before you lose yours.”

Eris’ smirk widens for a moment, a tease, but he releases you and you fall back into Azriel’s chest. He tucks you into his arms and you hide your bleeding finger in the thick fabric of your skirts, feeling embarrassed and exposed in a room full of vampires.

“Azriel,” the male greets, smile turning salacious, “Don’t want to share like we did all those years ago?” The question makes your stomach twist, but you shove the feeling away. You don’t feel anything for the male who stills against your back.

He flashes his fangs at Eris, a warning. He won’t let anyone else touch you, that you know, but you can’t help but to think that there was a time when he’s let others play with his human companions. You’re not sure how to feel about the information, but you keep quiet.

Two more males flank his sides, and you recognize Cassian and Rhysand, the Night Court trio at your flanks. You belong to Azriel, to them, to their court. There is no doubt about that.

“We’re leaving,” is all Azriel says, before he’s taking your arm in his and guiding you through the crowd, glaring at every male who you cross paths with. His grip is firm on your arm and you wince, but you can feel the anger radiating off of him and keep it to yourself.

But, always attuned to you, he catches your flinch and lightens his grip on you, eyes going soft as you look over your shoulder at him but harsh again when Helion smirks your direction. He growls at the elder vampire, not giving a single fuck if it makes them enemies. You are his.

***

“You bled for him,” Azriel states. His attention is focused on the cut on your finger. It’s not deep and it’s already stopped bleeding, but he’s made it his mission to clean and wrap it for you, the image of your finger in Eris’ mouth burning behind his eyelids.

“I didn’t mean to,” you answer softly, because you don’t know how he’s going to react. Azriel is a ticking time bomb of anger and hatred, crazed and possessive, and you don’t know why. He could explode on you at any moment, even though you were trying your best to pull away from Eris at the party.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he answers gruffly, refusing to meet your gaze. He stands, placing your wrapped hand back in your lap as he turns to leave the room. He can’t look at you right now. His hands are nearly shaking with anger. He hasn’t even tasted you yet, and Eris took that moment from him.

You shove off of the counter, following him into your room. “I didn’t do it on purpose!”

And he knows this, he does, but he doesn’t care.

“Doesn’t matter,” he hisses, charging for the door. He needs to fly it off or something, he can’t be around you right now.

Apparently, it does matter.

“Azriel, please,” you scoff, “It’s not a big deal, it was an accident.”

He spins on his heel and is on you before you can gasp. His body is a freight train against yours, grabbing your hands in one hand and locking you to his front. He hopes you realize right now that this is what could’ve happened to you at the party. Eris could’ve grabbed you and taken you and you wouldn’t have been able to do a fucking thing about it because you’re weak. Just a human. He wants to yell, hiss at you for being so careless in a room full of vampires. He wants to scream because he put you in that position, and he hates himself for it.

“When you bleed,” Azriel growls in your ear, tracing his fingers across your neck with his free hand. His blood has long since dried there and it flakes off under his tender touch. He leans in, his lips a whisper across the pulse in your neck that’s pounding so damn fast you almost don’t hear his next words. “You bleed for me.”

You gasp, his fangs scratching your skin. He holds you tightly to his body and you can feel the blood bubbling up from the shallow cut he’s given you. You squeeze your eyes shut tight as his tongue lathes across the wound, hot and demanding, owning. You bite your lip, holding in the moan at the feeling of him humming against your skin, tasting you, but you let your body melt into his front, the vampire holding you up with ease.

It’s like he’s set fire to your body, his touch blazing under your skin. You pant, lifting your chin to look up at him through thick lashes.

He’s already looking at you, staring down at you in a way that makes you feel naked. Warmth buzzes between your legs.

You open your mouth but he’s shoving you gently away, and you stumble before righting yourself, hands planted on the soft comforter of your bed.

“Az…” you turn your head to speak but your room is empty, Azriel gone.

[thanotaphobia]

ménage à quatre

or, missa runs into tina on the way to see phil. and pac. and mariana. and-

CROSSPOSTED TO AO3

⋆

Missa thinks he’s decent at being sneaky.

He at least doesn’t knock things over. Their new and improved underground base is well-lit despite the dark stone that makes up its walls, and Missa skirts the farms and chairs and chests with ease. Getting out isn’t so simple, but he’s nearly there. It’s nighttime, and while most people don’t always sleep through the night in this place, it’s easier to hide under the cover of darkness. Easier to get away with things, to see people. Missa also knows if he runs into anyone who isn’t his team or Phil that he’s absolutely dying, so going out at night is a necessary risk. Risk, because mobs, but once he reaches the meeting spot in the woods he and Phil had talked about, then he’ll be okay.

He misses Phil. With every aching beat of his heart, he misses him.

Missa hadn’t known how strong his feelings had run until they’d been separated like this. It was physically painful, like love had wrapped tendrils around his heart and gut, squeezing every time Phil pops into his head. 

And so the occasional midnight rendezvous must happen. It has to happen, because otherwise Missa thinks he would die if he didn’t get to see his husband in a relatively safe, stress-free space.

Careful not to catch the attention of any of his teammates, Missa creeps through the base and watches every step. He doesn’t think they’d crucify him for it, but he doesn’t think they’d like it either. People have become different, and fast. Personalities have shifted and everyone, Missa thinks, has gotten a little more ruthless. Even Missa himself thinks it’s affecting him– although he tends to isolate instead of lash out. He’s frozen to death on beaches more than once, staring out at the ocean lost in thought until his eyes had clouded over and he’d woken up in their base with fingers stiff from cold. Others, though. BBH has a look in his eye every time Missa sees him, a look that makes him skirt around the man like he’s got the plague. 

It’s unsettling. He hates feeling uncomfortable in what’s supposed to be a safe place. He hates sneaking around like this when he should just be able to see his husband whenever he wants– he hates it. 

But it’s fine. He’s nearly out, anyway. He enters the darkest part of his exit, a long corridor, and hurries forward. Just another couple steps and–

“Oh!”

All the air is forced out of his lungs, half from terror and half from the collision. He bounces backwards into the cold stone wall and shrieks, then shoves a hand over his own mouth to stifle the sound. Across from him, there’s a thud and someone gasps. Missa blinks into the dark.

“Missa?” Tina says after a second of silence. He takes into stock what just happened– a warm body bumping into his, shorter but strong, and the strong scent of tea leaves and cool soil in the air. Tina. Just Tina.

“Sorry,” Missa says out loud after a second, lowering his hand from his mouth. Tina laughs, and Missa can’t see her very well in the dark as he pushes himself up off the wall. “I didn’t mean to–”

“No, it’s okay!” Tina says. They’re both whispering, but even then each word sounds like a gunshot in the tunnel. It reverbs, echoing around them and twisting in the air like smoke. “I didn’t expect you– oh, man, I fell down and dropped my bag, can you–”

“Yeah, one second,” Missa says, getting her intent instantly and dropping to his knees to feel around for the knapsack. “You okay?”

“Fine, thanks!” Tina giggles, high and breathy. Missa’s hand knocks against fabric and he grasps it triumphantly. 

“Got it!” he says, raising his clenched fist into the air– only for it to come into contact with skin and bone, the crack echoing around them louder than their words had been.

Missa is almost impressed by how Pac doesn’t swear. He hears a thump as someone sits down, a soft hiss of breath, and then a long exhale.

“Oh my god,” Missa breathes, before he knows it’s Pac, “I’m so so sorry–”

“All good,” Pac grits out, and Tina gasps.

“Hey!” she says. “It’s like a party in here!”

“Are you bleeding?” Missa asks, and Pac mumbles an affirmative. The next thirty seconds is spent looking for a piece of cloth to hold to his nose, and they end up having to improvise with one of Tina’s shirt sleeves. “I’m so sorry,” Missa apologizes again. “Bro, bro, I swear I didn’t know you were there, I didn’t mean to, I was just getting Tina’s bag. I’m so sorry, man.”

“It’s dark,” Pac says, his voice slightly muffled and sounding as though he’s got a bad cold. “All good! All good, my friend.”

“What were you even doing down here?” Tina asks. She’s kneeling by Pac on the other side, and Missa has finally gotten used to the dark. They’re all mostly on the floor, staring around at one another– Missa can see the whites of their eyes, and that’s about it. It’s the strangest situation he’s been in for a while, honestly. 

“Well, I was trying to leave,” Pac says, sniffling once and grunting in pain. “But, ah– you were here first.”

“Wait,” Missa says, blinking as he realizes something. “Tina, why were you here–”

And then someone lights a torch, the spark and resulting flame causing all three of them to cover their eyes or cry out. Missa blinks back tears from the sudden brightness and glances back– standing a few feet away is Mariana, torch held up as he stares at the three of them with an indignant expression.

“The fuck are you bitches doing?” he asks loudly, and despite their various states of distress, Missa, Tina, and Pac shush him quickly. Mariana goes quiet, pressing his lips together before stalking forward and crouching beside them. In the torchlight, Missa can see the blood on Pac’s nose now, and winces. “Why did none of you have a torch?” Mariana asks.

Tina hums. “That probably would’ve been a good idea.”

“Why are you here?” Pac asks. “Did you hear us?”

“No,” Mariana scoffs. “But I should’ve. I was going to see Slime–” He clearly didn’t mean to say it– his eyes widen a fraction and he snaps his mouth shut quickly, staring at the three of them before clearing his throat. “I meant, I was going to kill Slime.”

“We all know what you did in the fountain,” Pac says, his voice nasally but dry. “You know?”

Tina breaks out into big, bubbly laughter, heaving for air between gasps of breaths. She giggles, high-pitched and frantic, and Missa can’t help but snort either, covering his face with one hand. He can see Mariana between the bars of his fingers, and the way his face goes a bright, brilliant red.

“Yeah, well–” Mariana only stutters for a moment, composing himself and snapping. “What are you three doing anyway?”

“I was going to see Bagi,” Tina practically wails. She’s on her back on the floor, hair spread like a halo around her, and Missa thinks it’s a miracle she hasn’t passed out from laughing yet. Pac is laughing too, still pinching his nose but grinning and cackling. Missa bites his lip, then drags his hands down his face and comes out with the truth.

“Phil,” he says, cursing his husband’s name into his palms. “Phil and I–”

“I won’t say who I was going to see,” Pac says proudly, and Tina stops laughing at that. She sits up and points a finger at him. 

“We all know about Fit, Pac! We know! Nothing is a secret!” Between her words she hiccups giggles. “This is so dumb, we’re all so dumb!”

Missa leans back against the stone wall of the tunnel and slumps, his knees slowly giving out until he’s sitting fully on the cold floor and staring at the rest of them slowly losing it. Tina and Pac are holding onto each other, giggling and rocking back and forth slightly, while Mariana is trying his hardest to look disgusted with them and notably failing to hide a smile. Missa lets out a breath and knocks his head back, covering his eyes with his elbow and snickering.

“Well, I’m going,” Mariana finally says, stepping over Missa’s outstretched legs and past Pac and Tina. He’s still got the torch in hand– the shadows against the wall stretch and warp with his movement, making the whole tunnel feel unsteady. He turns back. “I have a date to keep.”

“Oh gosh, so do I,” Tina gasps, finally getting a hold of herself and scrambling for her bag. Missa nudges it closer to her with one foot and she grins at him. “Thanks! Don’t want Bagi to be waiting up for me.”

“Have fun on your date,” Missa says, mouth a little dry. “Dates.”

“You too,” Tina chirps, standing up and slinging her bag over her back.

“Wait, I need to get up too,” Pac says, and he and Missa stand together, gripping each other’s shoulders and arms as they do. His nose has, for the most part, stopped bleeding.

“Sorry again,” Missa says apologetically. 

Pac grins and shakes his head. “No biggie.”

“Are you coming?” Mariana calls. The shadows have gotten longer and the light dimmer as he’d started walking away, but he waits now near the end of the tunnel, looking back at the three of them with mild irritation. “Or can I ditch you all yet?”

“Oh be quiet Mariana,” Tina says, catching up with him easily. They both wait for Missa and Pac, which makes something warm blossom in his chest where the cold has sat so easily the past few days. “We can go together now, as long as we stay away from Bad!”

“That would be not good,” Pac mutters, glancing back. Missa winces. 

“We’ve gotten this far,” he says.

“This far without waking the guard dog,” Tina says, and they all make their way the last little bit out into the faint light of the stars. Around them the air is cold and crisp, and it takes Missa’s breath away. For a minute they all stand there, taking in the sight of the moon glistening across the oil-slick sea, light refracting off the ice and snow and making the whole world a soft, delicate shade of blue. Even the light from Mariana’s torch doesn’t last, barely casting out onto the pockmarked and scarred beach ahead of them.

“Well,” Missa says, equipping some gloves. He doesn’t want to stand here for too long. He wants to see Phil. The ache is back, something about the sight in front of him and the people beside him making his heart ultra aware of Phil’s absence. He thinks of Phil, worrying about him being late; he thinks of Phil laughing when he hears what delayed him. “See you in the morning, guys.”

“Hey, Missa?” He glances over at Mariana, who sticks his torch down into the sand and shoves his hands into his pockets, nonchalant. “Do you want to go together? Might be easier. Mobs and stuff.”

“Oh, that’s a good idea! Pac, let’s go together!” Tina chirps, and Pac nods with a smile. She grabs his hand and he lets her.

“Sure,” Missa says, a little startled. “That’s– yeah, yeah. Okay.”

“Okay,” Mariana says. “Bye, guys.”

Pac and Tina wave as they deploy their separate boats, hopping in beside one another and parting into the cold, choppy sea. Mariana drives, Missa sitting passenger, and he stares out over the ocean as they leave their team base behind them in the cold. When he looks over at Mariana, the other man is staring out across the horizon in front of them, hands gripping the wheel of the boat and a strange look on his face. When he notices Missa looking, he glances over and catches his eye.

“What’s the matter?” Missa asks.

“Bad Boy Halo totally was watching us leave,” Mariana says, dead serious, and that is finally what sends Missa into hysterical laughter.

[eezeybreezy]

ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴜɴᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ʜɪꜱ ᴄᴀᴛ ➜ʜᴏʙɪᴇ ʙʀᴏᴡɴ x ɢɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

I have fallen to the Hobie brain rot and this is the result. This was a lot longer than intended so now it's broken into multiple chapters! Lmk if I should post those too or if this is too cringe.  Part 2, Part 3, Part 4🔞

warnings: suggestive, not-so-accurate accent, recreational drug/alcohol use, partying, punk shit, eventual smut? 

As they entered the headquarters, the pair were met with a cacophony of sound and movement. People in spider suits and uniforms hurried to and fro, carrying files, and talking urgently on their phones or to each other. Clearly, this was a place of importance, filled with sensitive work and decisions.

The first was a young woman, her hair pulled back into a high ponytail and dressed in a long, flowing maxi skirt in earthy tones, paired with a crochet top. Adorned with beads or other natural details, she walked confidently, looking around with a sharp eye and taking in every detail. The second was a young man, his steps a little slower and his gaze mellow. He was dressed in a concoction of ripped fabrics, belts, and buttons, his studded vest and chunky boots a signature in the halls they walked.

"Wow," breathed the woman, taking in the bustling scene. "I knew this was a big deal, but I had no idea.."

The man chuckled. "Told you it was the real deal."

The Spider you’d come to know was none other than Hobie Brown, a stand-out among his peers and variants alike. You’d only met after being rounded up as an anomaly, though you’d come to the HQ willingly, as any means to getting home was better than being stranded in some uppity renaissance dimension. After learning of your role as the Black Cat in your world, the punk had found a new friend in an unexpected place.

“Hm…” Hobie peered at you absentmindedly, seemingly turning something over in his head.

You didn’t like that look, and knowing the kinds of ideas an anarchist could come up with, you decide to pry, “What’s up?”

Hobie finally looked at you and not through you, “How did you get those abilities bruv like, I was bit by a radioactive spider so I have spider DNA in me, but how’d you get ‘em?”

“Hear me out, a cat bit me. But she wasn’t radioactive or anything, actually quite sweet.”

“Wait wait wait, you ‘ere bitten… by a cat? And you now have abilities like me??”

You giggled at this, he’s dumbfounded over a cat but a radioactive spider giving powers is the norm around here. “I don’t know about ‘like you’ per say.’

“Aight, maybe not exactly like me, but it’s similar yeah? You have wall-crawling abilities I presume or am I wrong? And probably enhanced strength?”

Why the sudden interest in my abilities, you thought. “I mean I do have enhanced strength and speed, but I can only climb up walls with my claws, I don’t stick like you all do,” referring to the bustling crowd of Spider-people you found yourself in the presence of.

“I see, then I have one last question… What does your suit look like? I’m proper curious ‘bout that.”

Now this was unexpected, not only was he interested in your powers, but your alter ego altogether. In the few months, you’ve been friends, little was spoken about your homeworld, let alone the role you play in that dimension. You wonder what’s gotten him so interested, and so you decide to tease a little, getting Hobie Brown flustered was something very few could boast.

“You ever been to a BDSM club? It’s like a leather dominatrix suit

“…” “That’s… huh.”

“Problem ‘Obie?” You poke at him playfully, gliding to stand closer to the slender man.

“Not at all… can’t say I’m not confused though…” he trailed off. “But hey, as your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man it’s not my problem that you have an… um… interesting taste in fashion.”

That got a snort out of you, “You’re one to talk about ‘interesting taste in fashion’, Mr. Spider Punk.”

A sigh comes from the taller man. “Fine. You win.”

Deciding to toy with him further, you play nonchalant and petty, “If I’m so annoying I’ll just leave then. I enjoyed meeting you Punk.”

“Oi oi, I didn’t mean to insult you, I swear… I'll be 'onest wiv ya, mate. I don't really know what I'm doin' 'ere. I'm just takin' it one day at a time and seein' where it takes me.” He looked up from the ground to look at you again, something sad in his eyes. “Life's a funny old game, ain't it?"

“The rockstar runway model is bad with people? Color me shocked”

Hobie let out a huff of air, which you could only assume mimicked a laugh, “Is that meant to be an insult or genuine criticism?”

“I was being serious Hobie, you seem to have a good handle on people. You’re just so cool I thought maybe you’d have it down by now” Despite wanting to crawl into a hole at your admission, you said it with your chest, and you’re not about to back out now.

He’s quite surprised by this, not anticipating such a blatant compliment from you. “Huh… you’re actually pretty rad yourself. Most people don’t think that and just call me a freak.”

“I mean I’d say I’ma freak too but that hasn’t gotten me any complaints if you know what I mean.” You say with a wink, deciding to lay it on thick.

He smirks at you, catching the vibes you're putting down quickly. “Oh, I understand what you mean. I just didn’t expect you to be this forward luv.”

“What’s the phrase? ‘You miss 100% something something-”

“You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take?”

“Yeah yeah somethin like that”, you past your giggles. “You tryna get out of here?”

Hobie looks at you almost sideways, and if you didn’t know him better, you’d be put off by the glare. “Get out of here and do what exactly? What’re you planning?” He takes a step towards you, covering more ground than you’d anticipated due to his long strides. He was so close.

“I’m not dumb, I can tell you’re trying to trick me into something, but I’m not quite sure what…”

You smile at that, despite telling the truth, he’d managed to tease you in the process. We’re in the clear. “No trick here, not today at least.”

You look at him through thick lashes, “Did you have any ideas Spidey?” you ask coyly.

The punk chuckles,

“Ah, the ol’ playing coy shtick ‘uh? Not that I have anything against it, honest with you I kinda like it.”

Your tone is drenched in sarcasm, “Me? Coy? What kind of women do you take me for?” You’re feigning being offended, and he continues your banter. He laughs in a friendly way, deeply and honestly, a sound you wish was heard more often by the masses.

“Oh trust me you’re not like the other girls. You’re cool.”

“I’m not like other girls,” you say mockingly, trying to keep him amused. “So, what’s the punk down to do?”

Hobie’s face lights up with excitement, “I know just the place. Ever been to a punk rock show? There’s always tons of wankers to hang out with and it’s basically a Beano with loud ass music.”

You’d know about Spider-Man in front of you’s reputation, his subtle flex of eclectic success was something you’d come to admire about him. “I’ve had my fair share of underground events, though I’d call myself more goth than punk, you ever been to a goth club? I’m down to go to one of your shows if the anarchist is down to do some substances with me.”

He perked up at this. “Hell yeah, I’d be down, I love partying. Although, can I ask what kind of… substances you’re planning on using? I wanna make sure I bring the right shit.”

“Fuck no nothing hard, just weed and drinks will do it for me. That’s pretty stereotypical punk shit tho huh?”

“Yeah, well stereotypes exist for a reason. Though the whole ‘punks are stoners’ stereotype always bothers me, I never got why people think punk = drug abuse…” He shrugs.

The hair feels heavier, don’t kill the mood now! “ Well I do love me some weed, and hell yeah it’d be great to drink with you and have fun.” You keep going, hoping to bring that light back to the spider that was there but a moment ago. “I think the whole stereotype thing is stupid, but I totally understand why it doesn’t make sense to you, hating labels and all that.” You punctuate the end of your sentence with a punch to his shoulder.

“Alright, lead the way ‘Obie!”

He chuckles a bit at that, and playfully shoves you back into the portal he’s opened. You always land on your feet as you enter his dimension with a thud. He’s crouched next to you, standing to take off his mask and tuck his suit away.  

“What was that for huh? I know you can punch ‘arder than that.”

He closes the portal and starts walking towards the club, throwing you a glance over his shoulder. He beckons you to follow. “It’s just up this way, hopefully, there won’t be too big of a crowd.” His guard is down now, it’s just you and Hobie Brown, not Spider-Punk and Black Cat, just two “civs” kickin it.

“If you’re down to spar I can show you more than a little punch Bee.” You send a wink at Hobie, hoping the new nickname didn’t make him uncomfortable. “And hey! I thought you were a celebrity, don’t get special treatment even in the underground huh?”

Hobie smirks at that, “Hah. You’re funny.” He peers down at you, despite your above-average stature. “So you wanna spar then? Because now I’m very tempted to see what you can do.” He’s being cheeky, you can hear it in his tone.

Oh, this man was dangerous, and you can’t help the sly smile that makes its way to your face. “Oh, I’d love to show you everything I can do.” You’re sultry now, biting your lip as you gaze up at him.

“Damn, you’re a cocky little cat huh?” He shakes his head laughing, but can’t hide the big smirk forming on his face.

“Don’t think I won’t accept your challenge, because I will…”

“Oh? Is that so? What’s the punk challenging me to do exactly?” You step closer, still looking up at the man, with a smug grin on your face.

“Oh, I think you know…” He smirks at you and steps closer. “Or should I remind you?”

You grab him by his guitar strap, pulling him down until your lips almost touch. “It must’ve slipped my mind, Bert.” You emphasize his name teasingly.

Despite the way your eyelids flutter shut, and how your lips seem to draw each other in, he chuckles and gives you a quick kiss on the lips, still very clearly smug.

“I’m glad I could remind you.”

[propertyofkylar]

kinktober day 20: formalwear (f!avery x f!pc)

word count: 1007

tags/warnings: fucking in formalwear, fingering, avery is kind of an asshole but what else is new, pc gets turned on by luxury so relatable

It was a little bit scary, knowing that the cumulative worth of everything you were wearing was more money than you’d ever had in your life. 

Avery had picked out tonight’s outfit for you, and you were putting finishing touches on it while in her (fancy) bedroom. The gown you had on was truly exquisite - plunging neckline, satin fabric, delicate embroidered details. It was a far cry from what you’d worn on your first date with her: a ratty black dress and heels that had been in fashion 15 years ago. 

The elaborate dress was accented by accessories Avery had purchased for you. Your hair was styled in a neat updo, exposing the dangly earrings and heavy necklace on your throat. Frankly, you couldn’t stop staring at yourself. Avery had turned you into an entirely different person, and you couldn’t get enough. 

Avery, for her part, had on a long dark evening gown with a slit on one side. The simple elegance highlighted her natural beauty and for once, you felt like the two of you actually belonged together. You didn’t feel out of place. When the two of you would be seen together at tonight’s party, you would fit in at her side. 

She had a smug smile on her face as she saw you admiring yourself. “You certainly are a sight to behold,” Avery said, lightly scratching the nape of your neck. You shivered. 

“Look who’s talking,” you said with a smile. She laughed and gently took your chin in her hand.

“Seriously, though. You look beautiful. I hope you’re growing more accustomed to this life, mm?” 

Accustomed? Growing up the way you did, you probably would never really get used to dressing like this. But it felt good to do so. Seeing yourself like this was a great confidence boost. And getting to be with Avery while doing it…you knew there was no real love between the two of you. You got enough money to survive and to play the part of a socialite, while Avery got a precious jewel to hang off her arm and laugh at her every word. And that was fine. But you couldn’t deny that Avery was a very attractive older woman, and for the most part you enjoyed her presence, so it was overall a pleasant endeavor.

You turned to look at Avery, putting that innocent look on your face you knew she couldn’t resist. “Thank you,” you said sweetly. “You always take such good care of me, Avery.”

She smiled and took a few steps back, sitting on the edge of her plush bed. She patted the spot next to her. “Come here. We don’t need to leave just yet.”

You knew exactly what Avery was getting at and sat next to her obediently. She ran her hands over your body, feeling the soft fabric of your dress. “Stunning,” she said softly, and leaned in to kiss you.

You met Avery’s lips with a gentle passion. She slid a hand up your bare leg, squeezing your inner thigh. You whined into her mouth at the feeling. Her fingers ghosted at the thin lace of your panties and you pulled back to give her a confused look.

Avery grinned in response. “Well, we don’t have that much time before we have to leave.” She hiked up your skirt and began rubbing your clit through the fabric of your underwear - which, of course, had also been gifted to you by Avery. When you moaned and spread your legs slightly, Avery took that as an invitation to pull the panties to the side and slip two of her fingers into your cunt, which was growing wetter by the second. You opened your mouth to moan again or something, but Avery covered your lips with her own.

The feeling of her neatly manicured nails inside your aching pussy was intense as they scratched at your inner walls. The heel of her hand rubbed against your clit with every movement of her fingers and you found yourself whimpering into Avery’s mouth. With how turned on you already were to begin with, you knew you wouldn’t last long - and you knew that was exactly what Avery wanted. 

Getting finger-fucked while wearing an outfit more expensive than your life was an incredibly arousing experience. And Avery was clearly aiming to make quick work of you. Everything felt heightened; the smell of her luxury perfume in your nose creating a high.

She curled her fingers inside of you, pumping in and out. You felt yourself dripping onto the bedsheets and were thankful that Avery had pulled your skirt up enough before she started. A wet spot on the expensive dress would have honestly ruined your night. You tugged at the neckline of Avery’s gown and latched your mouth to her nipple, swirling your tongue as it hardened into a bud. You didn’t want to be completely selfish, after all. 

However, it was hard to do anything to Avery because her fingers were just that distracting. A lewd, wet sound permeated the room as she pumped her digits through your juices. Your mouth hung open, but no noises came out as pleasure mounted inside of you.

Your whole body was trembling as you felt a familiar tightness in your lower belly. Stuttered breaths were all you could manage as you began to fall apart around Avery’s fingers. Your own nails clung to the sheets beneath you as your orgasm hit, a long whine escaping your lips. Avery looked proud as she pulled her hand back, seemingly very pleased with herself for your speedy climax. Then, she shoved the two fingers into your mouth, watching you intently as you swirled your tongue around them and swallowed your own sweet slick.

“Good work, princess,” Avery was panting slightly as her fingers left your mouth with a wet pop. She glanced at her phone on the nightstand and turned back to you with a smile.

“There’s still some time left. Won’t you show me how much you appreciate me?”

[stuffing-seattle]

Preface: Thank you for bearing with me everyone! I did not expect this to be a 2 part story, but I’m really enjoying it. This is the first story specifically written from a request by a follower, so if you want a story, be sure to PM me. Also let’s try to have a little community fun with this one! Let me know what you want Roberta to do with Carrie. I certainly have some ideas myself 😈😈😈😈 so without further ado:

Carrie Part 1:

“You sure you’ll be ok to watch the place this weekend?” Roberta asked, a tinge of worry coloring her voice. Carrie sighed into the phone and said, “It will be fine! You don’t even have pets or plants to look after. All I have to do is not burn the place down.”

“I’m not worried about you burning the place down, I’m worried about coming home to find my pantries cleaned out again.” Roberta said tersely. “I was hungry, I might have starved.” Carrie whined. “Look, I left the second shelf on the fridge full of stuff for you, please don’t touch anything else.”

“Fine fine.” Carrie waved her hand dismissively, as if shooing a fly away, even though there was no one to see. “Look don’t worry about anything here, go and see your daughter and have fun.” Hesitantly, Roberta agreed, and they said their goodbyes and hung up the phone. Now Carrie was alone…. And terribly bored.

She had been to Roberta’s place a few times, but decided to poke around anyway, if only to relieve the boredom. Her first stop was Roberta’s bedroom. The first thing Carrie noticed was the full length mirror in the room. She took a moment to bask in her figure. She was 27 and had made a point to never miss a meal in her life.

Her body reflected this, and Carrie had been blessed with over the top assets. She had inherited her mother’s hourglass figure, but all of her extra pudge made her curves simply explode. Her breasts could best be described as overripe melons, and her hips and thighs flared so dramatically that she often had to wear skirts or find custom pants to accommodate them. To top it all off, her belly had yet to budge out into a ball, but the results of her common binges were visible. And she loved every inch of it.

*Grrrrllllll* Her belly moaned. She always got hungry when she was bored. But it was only the first hour here, and she had to house sit for three days. She needed to stay strong. To stave off the boredom and her ravenous belly, she began pulling clothes from Roberta’s wardrobe. Roberta was a runner and had maintained her lithe figure even after having her daughter.

Carrie laughed as Roberta’s jeans barely slid up her thigh calf, and outright refused to budge at her thighs. She held up one of Roberta’s A cup bras to her chest and giggled as she could have used the bra as pasties. Finally, Roberta came across what seemed to be a sun dress. Only this dress seemed to be a larger size than everything else in the closet. It dawned on Carrie that this was one of Roberta’s maternity dresses. With a morbid curiosity, Carrie slipped the garment over her head.

She struggled and sucked in and fought the dress for what felt like hours, but she did manage to cram herself in. Even so it was obvious that it was not made for her. It wrapped around her mid section as if it were soaking wet, and you could see every fold and detail of her belly through the strained fabric, including no the deep crater of her naval. Her ass was only half covered by the hem of the dress, even when she was standing upright. And her tits simply spilled out of the poor thing. Her nipples were covered, but only barley, and each step threatened to send the bouncing free of their too-small cage.

Carrie was sweating from the effort of putting on the dress, and her belly could no longer be ignored. *RRRRRRGGGGGGLLLLL* Shit. What was she going to do? She needed to ignore her tummy for as long as possible, or she’d end up cleaning out the kitchen and going into a food coma like last time.

As if someone could hear her thoughts, Carrie waddled into the living room, and saw a perfectly wrapped mini chocolate bar sitting on the ground in the middle of the carpet. Thank God for messy kids and frazzled moms. With more than a little effort, Carrie bent down, and stuffed the chocolate into her gullet. This was perfect. A little scavenger hunt would relieve her boredom, she would be rewarded with snacks, and Roberta’s house would be cleaner. Everyone wins.

So Carrie set out. She found so fallen candy in the kitchen, a piece or two on the stairs, and she followed the trail straight in to what seemed to be the playroom upstairs. Toys were scattered all around the place. *Like playing Where’s Waldo with candy* She thought. It took a lot of attention to detail, but eventually she found what she was looking for. An unopened bag of goldfish, laying forlornly in the corner, right behind a little pink plastic play castle.

Carrie made her way to the corner, but found that the castle was too cumbersome to move in her restrictive dress. She stepped back a moment to ponder what to do. That was when she noticed that the playhouse had a front door that opened perfectly to the window in the back of the house, and just beyond that lay the crackers. Perfect. Carrie got on her hands and knees, and slowly shuffled into the tiny play house. She squeezed herself through the door and her boobs and midsection barely made it through. She put her arms out ahead of her, put them through the window, then pulled the rest of her behind them.

*Thunk* Her tits had managed to flop over the sill of the little window, but her ass was simply too big to fit through the doorway. She knew her fat ass would come back to bite her in the… well… fat ass one day. No matter, she would just scoot back out. Nope. Her tits had made it out the window, but they refused to go back inside alongside her arms. She was stuck.

She was about to start panicking and thrashing, when she heard the front door open downstairs. “Carrie? You here?” Roberta called out. Carrie was embarrassed but relieved. “Up here!” She called out. Carrie could hear her friend’s footfalls as she came up the stairs. “Sorry I’m back so early.” She started to explain. “Her dad got sick and couldn’t make the drop off, so we decided to reschedule- What the fuck are you doing?”

Carrie’s face went bright red. She couldn’t see Roberta, but could hear her voice in the doorway of the playroom. “I’m stuck.” She said simply. “I see that. But how did you manage?” Carrie cleared her throat. “I was, um, cleaning. Look can you just pull me out?”

“Right yeah, of course.” Said Roberta. She came over and gave Carrie’s hips a big tug. She did not budge. She tried a few more times to no effect. “Here let me try pushing.” Roberta said as she went to squat in the corner where Carrie was facing. Before she could get into position, however, she spotted the packet of Goldfish in the corner. “Oh my fucking god.” She said. “Were you eating my kids snacks?”

“No!” Carrie tried to deny it, but her greedy gut gave her away. *RRRRRRRLLLLL* Roberta stepped away from the corner. “You fucking fatass! I can’t believe you!”

“I was hungry.” Carrie whined. “Come on, you can’t leave me like this!”

“I might leave you like that, it might force you to be less of a pig. Maybe I’ll leave you in there until you lose enough weight to get out yourself.” Scolded Roberta. “You can’t I’ll starve!” Cried Carrie. Roberta laughed incredulously. “Starve?” She asked. She bent over and put an arm through the side widow of the play house, and gave Carrie’s ample tummy a squeeze. “You think you’ll starve with all of this?” She then reached back and grabbed two handfuls of Carrie’s ass which didn’t even constitute a third of it. “What about this? You could feed an army off of this for a month.”

Carrie had been feeling a mix of fear and embarrassment up to this point, but now she was feeling something else as well: White-hot arousal. Roberta stood up and Carrie could hear her footsteps retreating. “Where are you going?” Carrie’s cried out. “I’m going to figure out how I wan to deal with you.” Replied Roberta coldly, leaving Carrie to her little plastic prison.

[eolewyn1010]

Downton Abbey Fashion 55 - outdoors fashion in 1924

This post goes largely to Rose, but we’ll start off with a look at a few *le gasp* middle-class women.

Starting with the one whose romantic farewell was “I wish you’d never even met your wife whom you loved so much; I can’t believe you expect me to treat your family with basic manners.” Fellowes’ writing has really gone down the drain. But let’s look at the new color palette of the worst communist character ever written. She goes from pastels last season to jewel tones in this, and from owning multiple coats but limited hats to always the same coat but with a new hat every time we see her. The coat is a nice shade of blue, and I love the scarf she wears in the second picture. Funnily, she has a new little pin on her lapel each time.

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

Over to Diana Clark. She’s only around for one scene and a half, but the dress she wears is quite pretty, the blue and white matching nicely, the flower print giving this a little whimsy. Why is this quiet, kind woman who wears flowered fabrics the mistress of a rough, loud dipshit like Lord Sinderby? I hope she gets out of that situation. Or shacks up with Lady Sinderby instead. But look at the point where her white sleeves cut off over the blue cuffs: The cut edge is lining up with the print. This is so adorable.

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Up the food chain, over to Rose. Look, she has a lovely coat almost the exact same shade as one of Edith’s. And this one has a sweet, sweet design that’s got me captured: Both the lower part of the coat itself and of the sleeves is all box pleats. This is honestly so nice. Also, the dress she wears under the coat in the second picture, the sky blue one with the flower garland? That’s Edith’s later on in the season. I don’t know why Rose wears it here.

Does Rose always move like she’s on a cat walk? Girl, you’re just going down the street; stop posing. Very nice outfit though! The skirt and jacket have a nice color contrast, and the jacket itself has as much tailoring as the 1920s would allow, the shoulder section sitting all nice and snug. It also comes with a matching scarf and a hat that, while black, does at least have a flower on it.

A rust-colored velvet coat, I think this is what Rose wears when she meets Atticus for the first time. The coat is not much beyond lapels, but Rose has paired it with the most adorable hat with flowers in various shades from peach to coral to chestnut. And, well, she’s Rose, so how could he not be smitten?

Sometimes, I’m sitting here burrowing through my vocabulary to name a color. Is this light brown? Leaning towards coral? Puce? What an ugly name for a nice shade. Rose wears this to a riding tournament if I remember correctly, and among all the other spectators mainly wearing shades of brown and grey, she looks the pinkest. The hats are a tie for me; I like she color and the brim of the second better, but the first has this adorable red-leaves-on-a-cream-ribbon decoration.

Hat is back, coat is exchanged for something… beiger? It’s fine, I guess. It has this scalloped collar design which is neat, and Rose wears it over a very colorful dress that I’ll have a chance to discuss on its own later. Also, Rose’s netting gloves are blue. Can’t say I’ve seen that before. Most I know are either black, white, or beige.

Rose, why on earth are you making a duck face? Were pouty lips even in the 1920s beauty standard? Okay; whatever, let’s talk about Rose’s honeymoon travel outfit. The hat is cute, the coat is simply-cut but has a lovely blue shade and a mass of white curlicues I love. And the dress. I want this dress. The crocheted neckline? The fringe on the back and the hem? The light, summery linen? This dress is a thing of beauty.