#this next chapter will feature lingerie
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Last Sentence Game
tagged by @bigdumbbambieyes and @imsodishy 💛
nsfw because I’m lost in kinktober hell (sex toys, shower sex, dom/sub dynamic)
Morning after phase 1 of the butt plug adventure:
Warmed up soon enough, though, once they were under the steaming spray, once Steve coaxed him to plant his hands on the wall, feet spread, head hung low between his shoulders as Steve draped his back, hand toying with the plug, teasing different angles and depth until Billy gasped, spine arching.
Just gonna tag people I assume have stuff in the works/wouldn’t mind me tagging them with a random porny sentence—sry if you’ve already done this, haven’t been on here much!!
no pressure tags: @fizzigigsimmer @ihni @spaceofentropy @suometar @starcourtjesus @thissortofsorcery @dragonflylady77 @keziahrainalso @giurochedadomani and anyone who wants to I know there are more but I gotta go collapse now
#ask game#harringrove#billy hargrove#roommates in love#shower sex with sex toys#this next chapter will feature lingerie#also deepthroating until the boy is hoarse#and assorted usual kinky shit
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strangers : fog | dave york



pairing: dave york x f!reader word count: 5208 chapter warning's: 18+ blog: established relationship, workaholic Dave, soft Dave, miscommunication, Smut (slight exhibitionism, dry humping, orgasms, keeping kind of vague for the sake of not giving things away), implied/alluding to infidelity (there is none, reader just doesn’t know this), Dave’s phone makes an appearance- shocking, drinking alcohol, smoking cigarettes, conversations with bestie, reader is mentioned wearing lingerie and a bathing suit- but zero description features, no age given but it’s implied she’s at least over 30, no y/n, this is au- no Carol (at least not canon Carol) or kids, if I missed anything let me know notes: I kind of struggled with the end of this one. It felt very flat and blah, but thankfully @gnpwdrnwhiskey Is a gem and helped me, and it feels good now. So grateful for all of you who’ve been following along. Xoxo
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It’s sweet.
But not the kind of sweet that aches and destroys your addiction.
It’s perfect. Just enough.
The kind of sweet that falls somewhere in the middle. Satiating that deep seeded craving that burns through your every fiber.
Like a glass of ice cold tea under the Texas sun, sweetened to perfection. Each tantalizing drop coating your tongue, idly encompassing every single taste bud with refreshing pleasure.
You're greedy. Reveling in your consumption. Take. Take. Take. Because it’s all you want and everything you’ve been needing.
Finally.
You feel him everywhere. The weight of him is substantial, pressing you into the side of the pool. A secure grip onto the ledge, the swell of his biceps flexed as he does his best to keep you both suspended and unmoving from your secluded spot.
He’s a blistering summer heatwave, one you’re fully hydrated and prepared for, but still stunned by its sultriness.
“You think they’re watching us right? All of them so fucking jealous at how good I’m makin’ you feel.” You don’t bother to take a look when he says it, your head angled back and eyes closed as his lips work their way up your neck, your only concern at the moment.
“Mmhmm— I honestly don’t care. Let them watch. Let them see how good you’re taking care of me— fuckbaby!” Your train of thought derailed when his hips jerk up with a little more eagerness than you expected.
The cool water laps rhythmically against you both. The tiniest of splashes to your exposed skin as it surrounds your bodies, relieving the heat that’s burning through you.
“Ahh!” You gasp at the sensation of his teeth sinking into your bottom lip. Nipping and pulling. The gentle glide of his tongue soothing over the pleasant sting.
“Sorry—“ He manages to get out. “Didn’t mean to be so rough, but also been wantin’ this so fuckin’ bad.”
His lips seal over yours again, groaning where he can feel you grinding against him, discreetly hidden below the surface of the water. Your legs wrapped tightly around his narrow waist, holding him as close as possible.
He’s unbelievably hard. Cock nudging against your aching core, the water aiding in the flow of your hips moving over him in search of relief.
“I’m definitely not complaining in the slightest. If anything, I’m entirely enjoying the roughness— wouldn’t be opposed to more of it.” You say smiling against his swollen lips.
Your words lure him back in, driven by a deeper sense of want forging beneath the water. Lashes fluttering shut as every bit of him consumes your senses. All tongues and teeth, tracing over every ridge and fleshy surface. A sweet delicate dance of unbridled emotions.
It's a slow building, intensely breathtaking. Your body ignited by self-indulgent energy, so hell-bent on seeking out unrivaled satisfaction, but you don’t seem to care. Focused solely on how each and every nerve lights up because of him, desperately wanting a release. A natural response to the way he’s holding you, kissing you, his determination to bring you closer and closer to the edge.
“Fuck— that feels so good!” Breathless and anchoring yourself to his warm body.
“Yeah? You think you can come like this?” One of his hands settles on your hip, helping your unfaltering movements, hitting that ever so desirable spot just right. “There you go, gorgeous— just like that.”
“ohmygod!! I’m so close— don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.“ Your grip secure on his taut shoulders, unmoving even under the wet conditions. Your head falling onto his forehead, noses nudging, exchanging desperate wordless breaths.
“I’ve got ya.” He whispers, nodding softly as your body writhes against him. “Come for me, Baby.”
“Oh fuck! oh fuck! oh fuck— I’m coming!” Everything dissolves into pleasure. Tense and blissed out as your cunt contracts around nothing.
“Open your eyes, Baby. Let me see you come undone.”
You pull back just enough to see him. He’s beautiful, framed in a hazy white vignette. His patchy beard is both rough and soft beneath your fingertips, tracing over every little detail of him while you still can. His rich brown eyes now a golden hue as the light hits them from the reflection of the water.
“Fuck— Joel!”
You’re floating. Further and further away. Every detail of him slowly dissolving into nothingness.
Your body jolts awake, Oh god, That felt so fucking real. Quickly sitting up, your hand to your chest feeling where your heart is frantically pounding.
The dry air from the vent billows out from above you, cooling as it skims over your tacky skin.
The remnants of last night's headache still remain. Though it wanes in intensity, the throbbing pain continues. Rubbing at your temples, the added pressure doing absolutely nothing.
There’s a faint familiar ache that catches your attention from below the sheets, prompting you to throw them off, finding a pillow still tucked tightly between your legs. The experimental squeeze of your thighs around the pillow sends a fresh ripple of pleasure from your fading orgasm, causing you to inhale sharply. Your palms clamping over your mouth, breath more constricted than the last as a strong feeling of shame begins to surge through your veins.
The hotel room feels paralyzing, especially with Dave sleeping beside you.
The beach.
Needing some fresh air and some time to collect your irrational thoughts, away from this confined space where everything seems to be closing in on you. Hastily, you manage to pull on some warm clothes and sandals while throwing your wallet and phone in your purse without waking Dave.
You know the minute he wakes up to find you gone he’ll panic. It will take only minutes to have all his agent buddies pulling maps and running background checks on anyone who lives within a mile radius of the hotel. You’re already annoyed with his distant behavior, you don’t have it in you to deal with the added disgruntlement that will ensue.
Grabbing for the monogrammed hotel stationary, you scratch out a note to leave on this nightstand for him to find when he does wake.
Good Morning, Babe Couldn’t sleep. Went for a walk down to the beach. I have my phone. Will be back in a bit. Love you Xoxo
You two his phone screen, noting the time at the bottom— 8:00 am —a little tactic Dave had ingrained in you for matters as such, giving a starting point in the case anything were to happen to you, taking the guessing game of when out of the equation.
A New Message glows on the screen, came in sometime last night after you both got back from dinner, he must have fallen asleep before seeing it.
Double checking, you peek over the mound of blankets that is Dave’s solid body— still sleeping. The side of his face buried into his pillow and his plush lips parted. No worry lines etched across his forehead. No tension pulling at his jawline. His perfectly groomed hair, all disheveled and twisted in all directions.
Your heart blooms at how handsome he is, his truest self on full display. A running joke between you, how others would be disappointed to find out his grumpy exterior is all a show, only reserving his softer side and big heart for you.
Refocusing back to his phone, you tap the message to preview it— a message from his mom.
Mom: Did she find out? Call me when you can, we’ll talk about it then.
Did she find out? Find out what?
*
The beach isn’t far from the hotel. Grateful for only a few hellos and forced smiles exchanged on the shared path on the short walk.
The air is crisp the closer you get to the water, a light breeze blows over the shoreline bringing tiny bits of sand crystals through the air. You can feel the salt already crystallizing against your cheeks.
The lingering fog adds a bit of gloom to the atmosphere as you look out over the horizon in front of you. The white caps of the waves slowly roll over into the next, pushing their way through until they’ve reached the shore. The water fanning out as it moves, blanketing over the sand as it reaches where feet are planted firmly, now surrounded by the frigid sea water. Then it slowly slinks back out, leaving you numb as you wait for it to return.
Good Morning! Are you busy? No. Are you okay? Yeah, I’m fine. I just need someone to talk to. One sec!
It takes a few flicks of the small metal dial for the flame to ignite, cupping your hand around to shelter it from the light wind threatening to squash your attempt at some sort of relief.
It’s instant when it hits the back of your mouth, swirling and stinging about as it creeps up the back of your throat. That burn is all too familiar, no longer a regular occurrence, but definitely not forgotten. It takes the edge off momentarily, it always does. You imagine blowing out all your pent up anger as your release the smoke into the oceanic air.
The cigarette sits between your fingers with ease, secure against those first knuckles as you bring it back to your lips for another desperate pull. That dedicated drag of your favorite menthol smokes had once been a regular part of your daily life in your college days. Getting you through long days of studying and working late hours, barely keeping your head above the water. Pack after pack. Light, smoke, tension gone, repeat.
Eventually it was downgraded to a social practice before finally kicking the habit all together. Something Dave never pushed for, but was proud of you nonetheless.
Your phone screen illuminates and buzzes simultaneously, a picture of Jacey double fisting some beers at last year's Fourth of July party pops up. The image alone already makes you feel better.
“Mmm… Hello?” You can tell she just woke up by the way she garbles her words into the phone.
“Hey, Jacey. I didn’t wake you did I?”
“Mhmm— Kind of but it’s okay— had a bit of a late night, but it’s fine. How are things going?”
“Fine. Good. Things are good.” Trying hard to keep your voice even without giving away too much— but she knows you too well.
“I’m calling bullshit. You’re seriously the worst liar ever. Spill.”
“Ugh. Where do I even start?” You tell her, audibly groaning into the brisk pacific air.
“I’ve got some time.”
Jacey has always been this way. Available whenever you’ve needed her, at a moment's notice. Connecting with her in college, your friendship has been a steady source of support and encouragement through the years. She stood by you when you married Dave— having her now makes you feel less alone.
“Well, if it’s not one thing it’s another. There were some high hopes for sex when we got in the other night, then he passed out— which is fine ‘cause traveling and what not. But I got in my head, questioning shit about myself and our relationship. Like maybe it’s me or something. He did try to initiate the next morning but I just kind of wasn’t feeling it— so we didn’t. Plus he had phone calls he needed to make so he wasn’t worrying about them the rest of our time here.”
“Hey, it’s not you at all. Don’t ever think that. You’re a catch— Dave knows that too.” She says, her reassurance firm but delivered sincerely.
“Thank you. I mean, we kind of fooled around at the pool yesterday.”
“Ooooh!! I love this for you.”
“Well, then he ran off right before I— you know.”
“Fucking men, I swear.”
“Only to find him on the phone when he said he wouldn’t be. Then he was all jealous over this stranger I was talking to. We got back to the room, things seemed a little tense— we still went to dinner. Don’t really remember much after that, because I kept ordering dirty martinis at dinner.”
After hearing the beginning of his phone call, the shower didn’t do much to help. You didn’t want to make a scene, deciding to just leave the hurt bubbling inside of you back in the room and make the best of the rest of the night.
Dave seemed pretty much his normal self going into dinner. Conversation was lighter than it was earlier in the room. You both caught up on things that you hadn’t really talked about in a while— details about his latest assignments (within reason), your own latest work projects, random tidbits about things —things felt normal.
There was a slight shift in the evening, when he was checking his phone more often than usual. Glancing at the screen between bites of his steak then trying to figure out where you left off in the conversation.
You hadn’t even planned on drinking, but the chilled cocktail in front of Dave had been taunting you, begging to help obliterate your lingering thoughts. Then it was I’ll have another, Maybe one more, Suuuuure another sounds grreat. The dim restaurant turned into hazy fractures of light. The steady buzz of alcohol had you feel giggling and sleepy, slumping back into the velvet cushion of the intimate booth. Dave cut you off before things turned into a wild evening, shifting from your introverted self into a very lively and friendly drunk.
You don’t even remember getting back to the room, just brief glimpses of Dave undressing you and helping you into one of his shirts, then tucking you into bed.
“Hold up. Rewind— you fucking hate martinis! What the hell happened?!” She knows you so well.
“Jacey, you’re my best friend. Someone who will be straight with me no matter what. I think— Do you think Dave is cheating on me?” You ask meekly, inhaling another minty pull from your nearly finished cigarette.
“What?! Babe, why would you think Dave is cheating on you? Did something happen?”
““No— I mean yes. I think so. Fuck! I don't know what to think. We got back to the room after the pool yesterday, talked for a little bit then I went to get ready for dinner. I guess he thought I closed the door or something but I could hear him talking to someone—“ You try to keep your voice steady, finding it hard to blink the tears away as the wind whips around you.
“Okay. Well, that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s cheating on you. It could have just been more work shit he said he wasn’t going to do. Maybe he figured he could squeeze it in before dinner— not wanting to upset you.” Jacey is all about layout the facts and details before jumping down dark rabbit holes.
“Ashley— Her name is Ashley. I heard him say her name.”
There’s a beat of silence on the line before you hear her sigh.
“Oh— what else did you hear?” She says, sounding a little more somber than before.
“Nothing. My brain kind of went blank after that and I just got ready for dinner like I didn’t hear anything. Hence the abundance of martinis I drank my way through. Which also explains the slight headache I woke up with this morning.”
“Okay. So whoever he was talking to—“
“Ashley.” Details Jacey.
“Right, Ashley. We don’t really know much, aside from that. So it could be anyone. Could be work related— Ashley could be a last name too. You know how they always do that last name first thing for whatever reason.” Somehow she always finds a way to get you to back away from the cliff, especially when your feet are over the edge.
“Yeah, probably.” You say softly in agreement. A flock of birds catching your attention, their wings moving in unison as they fly overhead.
“Look, like you said before— I’m gonna be straight with you. I don’t think Dave is cheating or would ever cheat. That man loves you. Sure, he’s kind of been a little too invested in work, which is affecting things with you. I don’t think there’s someone else. I promise. But I do think you both need to talk instead of this weird dance you both are doing, that way you’re both on the same page.”
“Okay. Yeah— you’re right. Thank you, Jace. Last thing— Does it make me a bad person if I had a dream about another man last night?” You ask, feeling a bit embarrassed as you voice it out loud.
“I have those all the time— especially with that cute actor from that narcos show we love. Dreams don’t equate to real life.” She only slightly laughs at your confession.
“What if it was with a guy I met at the pool who’s staying in the hotel, who listened to me spill my life away about how I’m not sure if my husband wants kids or not now— and how marriage feels like a mess.”
“Oh! Pool guy was cute— No, I don’t think that makes you a bad person. Your thoughts are just all over the place right now. It was a dream. You’re fine. Hey, I hate to bail on you— but I’m umm, getting another call. We will chat soon, then you can give me more details about the cute pool guy. Love you!”
“Love you too, Jace. Talk soon. Bye.”
The call clicks out. Waves crashing onto the shore brings you back to the beach. Your cheeks cold and feet stinging as the water recedes again.
It's nearing 10 am now, deciding to head back before Dave does in fact worry that you’ve been gone for too long. You snuff out the smoldering cigarette in the wet sand and stick it in your bag to dispose of later. The added nicotine now mingles poorly with your lingering hangover, body in desperate need of water and a strong pain reliever.
On your way back to the hotel, you take every bit of what Jacey said and truly let it sink in, even as hard as it is to not let your mind wander into dark territory. She’s right though, it doesn’t do you any good to dwell on situational events if you have zero proof of anything. That doesn’t mean that you’ve written off your uneasiness completely, just simply tucking it away for the time being.
The sweet bellmen welcomes you back with a friendly smile and a wave as he holds the door open for your return. The lobby now bustles with more guests than earlier. Some checking in for their stay, others enjoying the picturesque ambience of the hotel.
In the time that it takes to get up to your room, you’ve run through several different scenarios in your head. All feeling immensely overwhelming at the thought of talking with Dave about how you’ve been feeling since he hasn’t seemed to pick up on the subtle inklings that there’s been a definite shift in your relationship the past few months. You’re not really sure you even want to have the conversation now, let alone here— not wanting to ruin the rest of the vacation in the chance things don’t go as smoothly as you want. You ultimately decide to wait, once you’ve settled back in at home, finally address everything with him.
You can hear Dave’s voice muffled outside the door of your room as you search for your key card in your bag, sounding as if he’s talking to someone on the phone.
The room is bright as you enter, the curtains pulled open allowing the sun to shine through the large windows. The bed is somewhat made with the pillows stacked neatly and sheets straightened in an orderly Dave manner.
Food had already been ordered and delivered, set out on the small table on the balcony. Your favorite breakfast of eggs benedict and toast along with a fresh pot of coffee. Dave’s usual eggs and bacon sit untouched, waiting for your return to enjoy breakfast together.
Dave’s standing in front of the window, looking out at the scenery with his phone to his ear, but the sound of you entering the room has him turning towards you.
His hair is freshly washed, combed up and out of his face. Wearing his favorite blue jeans snug around his hips, a white patterned shirt just barely buttoned to reveal enough of his slightly burnt chest to make your mouth water. It’s his beaming smile, arguably his best accessory, that makes your chest flutter, drawing you in closer to where he’s standing.
“It’s my mother.” He whispers, covering the phone with his hand as she continues to talk into his ear.
Did she find out? Call me when you can, we’ll talk about it then. Still wondering what her vague text message meant.
“Yeah, Mom. She just walked through the door.” You hear her mention your name through the speaker. “My mom says hi.”
“Hi, Carol.” You say sweetly, kissing Dave’s cheek before turning to place your bag on the ground near the dresser, leaning back on the wall, watching Dave as he finishes the rest of the conversation.
“Okay, sounds good…Tell dad hello for us and we’ll talk to you later… Love you, too… bye.” The screen of his phone goes black and he tosses it over to the bed.
Grabbing a glass and some small pills resting on the dresser, closing the short distance to where you’re standing and holding the water and pain reliever out to you.
“I figured your head is probably killing you this morning.” Dave says smiling at you, no sign of annoyance in his face.
“Thanks— Sorry about last night. I don’t know what got into me.” Tossing back the pills back, gulping the water down quickly, your focus on the remaining drops of water sliding down the side of the glass, pooling together at the bottom.
Dave takes the glass from you, setting it over on the top of the dresser. One of his hands settles on your hip as the other tilts your chin up so your gaze is now directed at him.
“Did you have a good walk?” Dave asks. One of his warm hands now cupping the side of your neck, surely he can feel the way your pulse is quickening, elevated just by a simple touch from him.
“Yeah. It was nice— foggy, but beautiful. We should go again before we leave.” Your hands migrate to his shirt, fingers absentmindedly toying with the top abandoned buttons and soft silky fabric.
“Umm— I can smell the smoke on you. It’s fine, I don’t mind that you were— but is everything okay?” He knows, senses something is off, because he knows you don’t just smoke to smoke these days. Senses there’s something that triggered your need for your old vice, something to dull out whatever is silently bothering you.
Yet somehow you have almost forgotten about the cigarette until now when he asks. Feeling a bit of shame for the second time again this morning, though you don’t pick up on any sort of judgment when he does ask about it.
“Everything is fine. Just sounded good so I bought them on my way to the beach— don’t think I’ll even finish the pack though. I’m good.” Liar. You hate the way Dave winces at your answer. He knows there’s something simmering below the surface, but he doesn’t push for more.
“Okay— okay. There’s breakfast here and I was thinking afterwards we could go to some shops or something. I made reservations for tonight at 6, I thought you might want to find something new to wear. Maybe we can grab some lunch near the beach too.” He tells you, brushing off the small specks of sand cemented to your face.
You find yourself on the brink of tears, swallowing the little lump that started to form in your throat. Certain the next few days would be filled with worriment and noiseless vexation. There’s almost relief in hearing how he’s planned out the day, something he hasn’t done in months. Work and meetings always at the forefront of his planning lately, leaving little to no time for dinners or regular weekend getaways.
“Or we can stay in if you want.” His head tilts a little, brown eyes scanning over every detail of your face as you mull over his plans a little longer than he expected.
“No, that sounds nice. I brought some dresses that I can wear though, we don’t have to buy anything.” You shake your head in response. Pushing a few loose strands that had fallen out of place, his eyes closing at the sensation of your fingers combing through his hair.
“We can just look, and if you find something you like we can get it.” Dave suggests— a nice middle ground.
He leans in, his nose knocking against yours, humming as you continue to play with his hair.
“Okay.” You breathe out, his intense eye contact starting to ignite something within you.
“You’re sure everything’s okay?” Offering you another opportunity to bare it all out for him.
His lips graze over yours when he asks, just enough to have you wanting more.
“Yeah. Everything is fine— promise.”
“Alright. Let’s get some food in you and then we can get ready to head out. And there’s coffee—” His thought abandoned, his lips crashing into yours in a passionate kiss.
You eagerly respond, wrapping your arms around his neck as he presses you further into the wall. Your head swirling with want, thrilled at the fact that he’s so keen to give you exactly what you’ve been craving. The scent of his cologne mixed with the musky smell of him fills your senses, making you weak for him even more.
His tongue explores your mouth, tangled together in a heated dance as your bodies grind against each other, arousal growing with each passing moment.
His hands roam freely over your body, stopping at your hips to pull you in even closer has you gasping into his mouth.
“Fuck— Dave!”
“Yeah— that feel good, Baby?” Dave’s hard almost instantly, pressing against you as you slowly grind on him. You're scorching from the friction of your bodies, the coil already winding in your lower abdomen, shivers tingling up your spine.
“Yes!! Oh god, yes!! So good, Dave!” You cry out. The heat between you unbearable, the need for release is all consuming—- more more more.
Dave’s lips fuse to yours again, dragging one hand down between your bodies. He slips under the waistband of your leggings, deft fingers finding the damp fabric of your panties, a sticky mess because of him. He’s enlivened by the way your body writhes as a result of his touch. Fingers circling over your clit in a deliberate frenzied manner, causing you to release a breathy moan into his mouth.
“You think you can come right here? I’m not gonna last much longer.” He says breaking the kiss. His eyes are filled with a burning desire as he looks at you. You nod, encouraging him to continue his ministrations, before he’s capturing your lips again.
You whine at the loss of his fingers moving over your aching bundle of nerves, your body in dire need of his touch now that he’s giving you all of it.
Dave’s hands slip under your top, fingers trailing over your pebbled skin as he pulls it up and over your head. You help him, tossing it aside, leaving you in only your lace bra and bottoms as you lean back against the coolness of the wall, chest heaving with need.
“More— pl-please, I’m almost there. ohfuckyesyesyes!.” His hands explore your body, memorizing every curve and dip with a new surge of want and urgency, his fingers trailing down your back to grip your ass and pulling you closer— sparks of pleasure blazing through you nearing a fiery release.
‘I know baby, I’ve got you’ murmured against your neck, his words riddled with assurance as he sucks on the sensitive skin there.
Your hands grip his shoulders as he continues to explore you with his mouth, caressing every inch of you as he makes his way down to your chest, pulling the fabric of your bra down, his fingers gliding over the tight skin. He cups the weight of your breast in his hand, taking one of your hardened nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, teeth gently nipping as you moan louder and louder, while his other hand fondles and twists at your other side.
“Oh fuck! Baby, I’m gonna come—“ You gasp, arching your back, your nails digging into Dave’s shoulders has him clamping down harder on your overly sensitive nipple. The pleasing painful sting shoots straight to your core, your velvet walls pulsating, your climax within reach.
A pleasurable ache builds for the second time this morning, except this time it’s because of Dave. All your pent up emotions forging together, building into the most magnificent wave of arousal you’ve felt in a long time.
You pull his face up to meet yours, lips messily crashing against his in another bliss driven kiss. His hard cock straining behind the tightness of his jeans, tilting your cunt at the perfect angle while hoping Dave is reaping the benefits of your euphoric pursuit as you grind down on the rough seam of his denim that helps careen you over the edge.
It’s like a dream— except it's not, it’s better. Real and satiating. Your orgasm is forceful as it rips through you, taking every bit of residual tension along with it.
Dave’s movements become faster and more charged. His hips moving in a stuttering pattern— fuckfuckfuck —then stilling as a deep groan barrels through his chest. You wrap a leg around him as he collapses into you, his face nestled in the crook of your neck, holding him tightly to your body.
A breeze blows through the open balcony door, diffusing the layer of sexual haze wafting through the room. The air is welcoming, enveloping your bodies in the crispness that comes with being in close proximity to the Pacific.
It feels lighter. Less suffocating— even with the weight of your husband holding you against the wall. The low lying fog no longer a dense cloud looming over you, allowing the brightness to fully shine through.
The turbulent thoughts have settled, replaced with a mildness that seems more manageable for the time being. Your headache becomes a subsiding dullness, overpowered by the replenishment of a compelling desire.
“Shit— I came in my fucking pants like a goddamn teenager. Couldn’t even make it to the bed.” He says, post sexual vibrato etched into his voice, pressing a soft kiss to your collarbone as he lifts himself up to his full height.
Dave’s skin is glowing, a sheen of sweat glistening in the morning light. His cheeks flushed with a tinge of pink, the muscles in his neck flexing as he worked to control his breathing. The silkiness of his shirt now damp and stuck to his chest.
“Hmm. I feel too good to even care. You have no idea how bad I needed that.” You smile at him, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth, brushing a few fallen strands of hair away from his face.
The corner of his eyes crinkle. He’s beaming, infatuated with you as he leans in, resting his forehead on yours and whispers, “Do you have any idea how much I love you?.”
“Love you too, Dave.”
#Dave York#dave york x reader#Dave York x you#dave york x female reader#dave york x f!reader#pedro pascal#wildemaven writes#pedrostories
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.
Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut
Warnings: stalker/ unsuccessful kidnap, violence, depictions of blood and assault (let me know if I should add more)
Chapter Word Count: 2318
—-MDNI—-
A/N: Sooooo I’m sorry it’s not spicy like I said it would be… But I absolutely promise the next one will be! Chapters 5 and 6 were supposed to be just one chapter but it got too long so I had to split it… And again please let me know of any errors because this is only proof read by myself.
——————————————————————
Please Read the Below First:
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
I’m Not You’re F*cking Maid
Chapter 5
After thorough interviewing of the staff and regular patrons; long searches through copious auction records and meticulous studying of the items in the shop we narrowed our search down to one item: an old jade hairpin. The hairpin belonged to a young lady who was given the gift as a wedding present, however when she found out on her wedding night that her new husband was having an affair, she stabbed him to death with it before jumping to her own demise from their third floor balcony. That was just over a century ago, and she was still wreaking havoc on unfaithful men to this day.
“I mean I get where she’s coming from,” I shrugged as we walked back to the motel. Both brothers turned to look at me with concern smeared over their features. “OBVIOUSLY I don’t agree with all the murder,” they breathed a sigh of relief, “but you can’t hate her for being mad. I would be too.”
“Remind me never to get on your bad side,” Dean said, raising his eyebrows a little and holding his hands up. I gave him a look of bewilderment.
“What side do you think you’re on, Dean? Because this,” I gestured between us, “isn’t my good side.” He mumbled something incoherent as we got to the motel so I chose to ignore him completely.
“So what’s the plan? It’s getting late and we can’t really do anything now until that charity event taking place at the auction house tomorrow. We’re already pretty clued up on how to get rid of ghosts so there’s really not much to do except to get both your names on that guest list,” Sam patted his laptop, looking at both of us.
“Food?” Dean and I said at the same time.
“Food sounds good,” Sam nodded. The boys turned around to leave when I stopped them.
“Just whilst we’re still at the motel, I’m just going to freshen up real quick.”
Dean rolled his eyes, “really?” I flipped him the bird.
“I can just meet you there? There’s like only one diner in this town and I know the way. I won’t be long.” The brothers looked at each other for a few seconds before Sam looked at me and smiled.
“Sure ok, we’ll get a seat in the window so we can see you coming.”
“Great! I’ll see you soon,” I grinned at the younger Winchester before turning away and letting myself into my room.
I had the worlds quickest shower and threw on some clean underwear and a clean top, feeling better after getting the grime from the day off. I pulled on my jeans, socks and boots, applied a small amount of eyeliner and mascara and tidied my hair the best I could before slinging on my jacket and applying some perfume to my wrists and neck. It was one of my favourite scents: I’d bought it from some lingerie store a year or so ago and it’s apparently one of those aphrodisiac perfumes, however I have no idea if it even works or not. It’s probably a scam, nothing works that well in real life.
After I’d finished sorting myself out - which took no longer than half an hour - I grabbed my phone and keys and left the room, locking up before making my way towards the diner. Night had descended, the air turning cold against my warm skin and the usually busy streets now lay deserted and car-free. It was only about a five minute walk or so from the motel and I was now only about a minute away when I noticed that I wasn’t alone. I’d caught a glimpse of a figure dressed from head to toe in black in the reflection of several shop windows, and they were following my exact trail. I sped up, walking faster down the empty main road and hoping it was all a coincidence as worst case scenarios started to race through my mind. It wasn’t long until the diner was in sight and I breathed a sigh of relief, however the relief was short lived when those footsteps were getting closer and closer, quicker and quicker right behind me. It dawned on me that this wasn’t a coincidence at all - I was definitely being stalked. I started to run, my legs moving before my brain had kicked into gear and I was only inches from the front door when the stranger caught up, slamming me against the wall of the building and putting a knife to my throat, covering my mouth with a gloved hand.
“Don’t make a fucking noise - you’re coming with me,” he said aggressively yet quietly. I could feel the blade of the knife pressing against the soft skin of my neck and I couldn’t help but feel tears well in my eyes, my breath turning shaky as my heart hammered in my chest. I couldn’t even get any words out as his hand was too tight over my lips.
I wanted to cry out for help so badly it hurt.
I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing that this was all a bad dream. My cheek was pushed into the rough brick which grazed my skin, and I silently prayed for my attacker to just let me go or for some hero to come and save me. At that very moment I heard the door to the diner and my eyes shot open, instantly connecting with Deans. I watched as surprise turned to horror which then turned to pure feral rage on his face and before I even had a chance to blink he was gone from my line of sight - but so was the pressure keeping me pinned against the wall. I spun around and I watched Dean throw the stalker to the floor with more force that I thought he could muster and tower over him. Dean didn’t say a word, but the stranger let out a sharp cry of pain as Dean instantly brought his boot down on his ribs. There was a CRACK. He did it again.
And again.
And again.
And then he got down and pinned my attacker flush against the tarmac before he brought a closed fist down on his face over and over and over again, cracking his jaw and breaking his nose. Dean didn’t stop until the man was totally unrecognisable and unresponsive. Standing up off of his limp body, he looked over to me, his furious, almost animalistic stare softening instantly, even through all the blood that now painted his face. He took one step towards me before my feet worked on their own and carried me straight to him. I put my arms out to reach for him and he grabbed my hands and pulled me into his chest with zero hesitation, his arms circling me and his blood-soaked palms gently stroking my hair. I sobbed. I sobbed from the fear I felt, I sobbed for feeling like such a victim and I sobbed for the relief I now felt flooding my veins as Dean held me, not saying a word. Listening to his heartbeat with my ear to his chest, I felt so safe and secure that it made me want to sob even more.
*
Dean ended up taking me straight back to my room - he called Sam to tell him what had happened as he wasn’t going to be returning to the diner. I had my second shower of the day as soon as we returned, wanting to scrub everywhere that horrible man had touched. Whilst I was washing, Dean had headed back to his own room to shower off the layer of blood coating his skin. After I was satisfactorily clean, I dried myself and dressed in that old T-shirt I wore the night before, pulling on some fresh underwear and perching on the end of the bed. I picked up the remote and started mindlessly flicking through channels, hoping to find something to distract my racing brain.
I’d been sitting in the same position for around ten minutes when there was a gentle knock on the door. I held my breath as I got up and walked over, looking through the peephole. It was Dean. I released that breath as I opened the door and let him in. He’d changed from his usual gruff attire to something way more comfortable - a plain white T-shirt and a pair of plaid pyjama bottoms. He smiled at me. A kind smile, nothing like those teasing and sly ones we’d been throwing at each other since yesterday. This one was genuine, and it made my chest feel warm. He locked the door behind him as I padded back over to the bed and climbed on it, sitting right in the centre with my legs crossed. I pulled the T-shirt down to cover my dignity as Dean placed a carrier bag in front of me. I peeked inside. It was full to the brim of all different types of snacks and I grinned up at him.
“You sure do know how to treat a girl, Winchester.”
He let out a soft laugh and looked down at the floor before taking residence beside me.
“You’re the first one who thinks so”.
“Oh yeah?”
“There’s a long line of women who definitely think otherwise,” he smiled a slightly sad smile. We both paused before I continued.
“Well if it means anything, what you did for me today, I-” he held a hand up to stop me as he saw the look of fear flit across my features again, the horrid memory bubbling to the surface.
“It was the least I could do,” he said softly before his brows furrowed, “but to be honest I should never have let you out of my sight.” The almost protective tone of his voice made my heart flutter a little, but It was my turn to reassure him as I placed my hand on his shoulder delicately.
“Dean, none of us knew that would happen. I know you wouldn’t have left me alone if you genuinely thought I was in danger - after all, you DID promise to keep me safe from my own shadow,” I flashed him a grin which he quickly returned, chuckling. We sat for a few moments in a strangely comfortable silence before there was another knock at the door. I went to get up to answer it but Dean beat me to it, swinging it open to show a very concerned Sam stood in the doorway. He looked at me with those big ever-worried eyes and I shot him my best ‘please don’t worry’ grin.
“I’m fine, Sam” I called out to him as I tried to listen in on the hushed words Dean was speaking. They conversed for a while, occasionally throwing glances at me as I rustled around in the bag of goodies Dean had supplied. Growing bored of not being involved with their conversation, I scooted back on the bed to lean back on the headboard and proceeded to flick through dozens of channels until I found something decent to watch. A few more minutes had passed and I’d munched my way through almost half a bag of Doritos when I heard the door close and it was just me and Dean again. He had a paper bag that Sam must’ve passed him, which he held up and pointed to.
“The blood stains came out of my clothes, although Sam said the people in the laundromat were giving him strange looks,” he laughed slightly, those striking eyes of his looking down into mine as he took a few steps closer. I laughed slightly, only imagining Sam’s awkwardness in that situation. I broke my gaze away from Dean for a few seconds, looking down at my hands before looking back up. I could tell he was hovering now, just waiting for me to say something.
“Dean I’m fine, you don’t have to stay.”
“Are you sure? I don’t mind staying for a bit longer if you need me to” his hand ran over the stubble on his chin, his eyes not leaving me.
“Really, I’m ok. I’m probably just going to sit here and watch whatever this is-”
“It’s obviously Men in Black,” Dean scoffed. I smiled, finding comfort in the familiar snarky remark.
“Obviously - I don’t live under a rock Dean,” I rolled my eyes as I stood up, placing my hands on his chest. He was so warm to the touch that it was almost enticing me not to let go. The gentle thrum of his heartbeat was so soothing. But I did let go, and I spun him around to start ushering him to the door. As he was leaving, I grabbed my half eaten bag of chips and started munching again. He opened the door, stepping outside.
“Go back to your room Dean. I promise I’m ok. I don’t want you both hovering over me constantly making sure I’m fine; that will just make me feel worse,” I said as he spun to face me, nodding his head.
“Back to normal. Got it.”
“Great,” I said, sucking the tangy chip dust from my thumb. Dean suddenly reached out and snatched the half-eaten bag from my hand before quickly walking away.
“I’ll see you in the morning!” He shouted back at me before shovelling food into his mouth.
“You ass! I was eating those!” He shrugged in an overly animated fashion, not bothering to turn and look at me as he continued towards his room. I sighed, closing the door and locking it, sliding the chain across this time too. I padded back towards the bed and climbed in, pulling the covers up to my chin. As I started to drift off, the buzz of the movie still playing in the background, I smiled a little to myself:
Fucking Winchester.
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Chapter 13



Third POV

Jeff was sent to kill some random guy who so happened to be a few blocks away from Eboni's home. Of course, the killer took the chance to sneak into her room. To his surpise, she wasn't home. So he waited until he grew bored and began snooping through her things.
Everything seemed ordinary besides her odd obsession with kawaii shit. That was until he opened her closet door after picking the lock on it. He figured whatever she's hiding had to be embarrassing, and man, was he right.
This bitch has two boxes filled with BDSM crap that it actually surprises the killer. Jeff lets out a loud laugh as he dumps the contents of each box onto the middle of her floor. This would be the perfect payback. Humiliating her like he did him.
In the meantime, he looks through each item, confused as to why all of the sex toys were still in their official packaging as well as her many sets of lingerie. He snickers when he comes across BDSM magazines. The smiling killer had no idea they made crap like this.
When picking up one of the magazines, a piece of paper slips through the pages. He picks it up, standing back to his feet. As he read the slip of paper, he grins his grin, growing wider at the presence of who he waited patiently for.
"Been awhile, huh princess?"
Her face is absolutely priceless. The utter embarrassment lacing her features as she realizes the contents on the floor. Her grip on her knife seems to weaken. Eboni opens her mouth to speak but is still acting like a deer in headlights.
"You know... I knew something was off about you- but I had no clue you were this much of a....freak." The smiling killer teases, holding the slip of paper in front of him. "Rules of a princess..."
Eboni felt dizzy. She never wanted anyone to know of her obsession. Especially not - "I-I..." she stutters, still at a loss of words.
"You what? Never used any of this shit? Yet you collect them like fucking trophies. Wanna say why?"
Eboni quickly shakes her head, lowering it in shame - the tips of her ears and cheeks covered in blush. Jeff moves closer, glancing at the paper again before dropping it to the ground. He leans over her, closing her bedroom door, and locks it. Through all of this, Eboni felt as if her feet were super glued to the ground.
"Did you not hear me the first fucking time? Answer my question." The Cheshire smiling killer said, whispering into the teen's ear.
Eboni could feel his body heat, his breath fanning her ear- making her whimper. She opens her mouth to answers but pauses. Oddly enough, a playful smirk takes her lips even though her mask is still on. Jeff seemed to not have noticed that Eboni is not only inexperienced but also a brat at heart.
"Make. Me." She said daringly, still remaining in her spot.
His movements were too quick for her to process. One second, she's standing a feet or two away from the bedroom door - The next her back is slammed against it, the killer snatching her knife and uses it to slice off her mask. He throws the knife so harshly that it lodges into the wall. Jeff flushes their bodies together, grabbing both wrist with one hand, and pins them above her head- his knee spreading her legs apart.
The killer stares into her shock, filled honey brown eyes before speaking, "Oh...so this is how you wanna play?"
"Jeff I-"
His free hand moves to grip her throat as his knee moves upward to press firmly against her core. He grins, leaning down to her lips. "Princesses only speak when told to, you bitch."
Eboni is silenced by his lips slamming into her own. She tenses, her brain cells frying by every movement of his lips against her own. More seem to burn at the feeling of his knee rubbing against her.
His rough actions cause Eboni to slowly give in. Why bother to fight it any longer? He found out everything, every single secret. She doesn't care if he uses them all against her. Eboni would embrace it all with open arms and lustful eyes.
Eboni whimpers, trying to keep up with Jeff's sensual kisses- but he's so earnest in this moment. He licks Eboni's lips, groaning at the feeling before forcing his tongue through. The smiling killer removes the hand around her throat to her hip, gripping it so tightly that it'll bruise. The gesture makes Eboni wetter than she is now.
Lips still tongue tied, Jeff guides Eboni's hips to grind against his knee at an opposite pace. Eboni, at this point, has completely melted into Jeff, waiting for him to fulfill her darkest desires. He pulls away from their kiss, a string of salvia stretching from the bottom of their lips. Noticing her Dialated pupils and lided eyes, he smirks- grabbing her hips to stop. He finally has her where he wants.
Jeff nods his head towards her bed, pulling away. "On your back, hands above your head."
Without hesitation, Eboni does as instructed - whining impatiently. Jeff watches, placing a hand over his mouth to hide how wide his Cheshire smile stretched. Just a few minutes ago, this bitch was back talking and now...she's puddy In his hands.
The killer moves on top of her, swiftly snatching his hoodie off over his head but keeping his jeans on. He places his middle and ring finger against Eboni's lips, "Suck."
She listens, moaning every time he forces his fingers further down her throats. He grins, yanking her sweatpants off. Jeff licks his lips at the sight of her pink patterned panties, completely soaked.
He groans, pulling his fingers out of Eboni's mouth. He yanks off her t shirt, taking in the sight below him. "Fuck..."
Her harden nipples poke through the fabric of her bra, her breast perky and curves in all the right places. But if the killer has to pick his favorite part, it'll be her thighs - and of course that ass. He likes a girl with meat on her bones. He needs to grab a handful of something after all.
Jeff rips her panties off, rubbing slow circles against Eboni's clit. The unknown feeling causes her body to jolt then tense. The killer laughs, taking in every second of this.
"You like that...huh? Answer me."
"Y-Yes...good..hn~" she moans, squirming underneath him.
He slides his middle finger inside, thrusting it slowly- the wetness of her cunt coating it. "Then why not do this to yourself?" Jeff asked, honestly a bit curious.
Eboni shakes her head, to embarrassed to say and overwhelmed by the pleasure and slight discomfort of Jeff's fingers after having him add his ring finger. The killer stops his motion, glaring darkly at Eboni.
"Answer." He demands, voice gruff with lust.
Eboni whines, pouting her lips. "W-Waiting for....daddy to treat h-his princess.." she responds, completely lost into her fantasy.
Jeff raised a brow, moving his fingers faster and quicker. "I'll ask more later... Anyways.."
The killer looks at his fingers, marveled at how coated they are with her juices. He licks his fingers, groaning shamelessly at the taste.
"You taste...." he whispers, lifting her legs and places both on his shoulders. He moves both hands to her hips, gripping them as his tongue takes a quick lick of her cunt. "....so fucking good."
Eboni grips the sheets above her head, little mewls escaping her at the foreign feeling of Jeff's tongue licking her slit and tongue fucking her. He could feel her walls tightening around his tongue, singling just how close she is. The fanning of his hot breath and rough rapid tongue flicks on her clit becomes her undoing.
"Aahh! Uhhhnnn~"
Jeff let's her ride out her high on his tongue before dropping her legs back onto the mattress. He licks his lips, savoring her taste as he unzips his pants - his raging boner springing out.
"Look at me."
Still in her blissful state, she looks at the killer hovering over her, finally noticing how oddly attractive he is. His skin is ghostly white, body lean, yet muscles chiseled. As her eyes travel further, they lock onto his cock. She feels her mouth begin to salivate at the sight. His length is long, girth wide and veins visible.
Jeff uses one hand to push his hair out of his face and the other to stroke himself. "Aren't I... beautiful?" He questions randomly.
Eboni whines, nodding her head as she spreads her legs- wanting him inside. Jeff laughs mockingly at her, his cock grinding against her clit- leaking pre.
"Is the little princess this desperate for my dick?" He asked, removing her bra to begin pinching her nipples painfully.
Eboni's back arches slightly off the bed as she nods her head, ready to do whatever it takes for him to shove it inside her.
"Beg then."
"Jeff....please.."
He bites his lower lips, suppressing a Cackle. To think his mind wasn't playing tricks, but preparing him for this excat moment. Without an ounce of hesitation, Jeff shoves himself into her. The sudden rough intrusion causes Eboni to cry out loudly, her eyes welling with tears as Jeff closes his eyes- groaning from the tightness.
They both stay motionless for a while, waiting for the moment of entrance to pass. The killer opens his eyes, and the sight of Eboni's pained expression gives him a newfound excitement. Jeff would slowly pull out of Eboni, leaving his tip in before slamming back into her.
"Look at you, on the verge of tears.." he laughs, letting a moan slip afterward.
Feeling herself getting stretched so slowly is a feeling she's struggling to comprehend. Pain. This is her first time having sex, and it's being handled so poorly. The moment is supposed to be sweet, gentle, and even loving. However, that isn't what Eboni wanted at all.
Hurts...hurts so good
Faster, deeper...rougher
Don't stop...never fucking stop
Jeff's eyes widen in shock until it's quickly masked by his sadistic urges hurling to the surface, scratching at his skin, poking at his mind. No holding back. He has no reason to hold back.
Though heavy tears are flowing from Eboni's eyes, a deranged smile would not leave her face. Jeff's demented tendencies take full swing after seeing that smile. His thrust became rougher, animalistic.
"So good! F-Feels so- aah!"
Eboni's back arches off the bed, pressing against Jeff's chest as she came- her vision clouded by stars. Jeff didn't give her time to recover. He lifts the girl, forcing her on her knees.
"Grip the headboard. I'm not done, not even close." He said, slapping his dick against her swollen slit.
"Daddyyy..." Eboni whines, rubbing her ass shamelessly against him to get the killer to hurry.
Jeff leans over, gripping the headboard as well. "Your pussy is so fucking red....and your begging? You bitch-"
He slames into her without warning once again. His thrust seems to be diving deeper into her from this new position. Eboni cries, feeling him slame so harshly against her cervix.
"Fuck...holy shit you're taking me so...so damn, uhnn~" Jeff groans into her ear before beginning to leave trails of bites and kisses along her neck.
"G-Gonna..mmhh!"
The killer wraps his hand around her throat, forcing her head to lean back and look at him. "Hold. It." He orders through clenched teeth.
At this point, Eboni feels like she's being torn in two, but Jeff doesn't care. The only thing on his mind is reaching his high and using this girl to do that. The two lock lips, the kiss sloppy yet full of passion.
"That's it. Keep sucking me in just like that, oh fuck!"
The two never broke eye contact, and that inhuman look in Eboni's eyes and smile are what sends Jeff over the edge and shifts something within his heart - unbeknownst to him. They cum, Eboni squirting all over his cock and Jeff emptying his load deep within her.
"Don't move. Keep it all in you cumsucking bitch." Jeff orders, still dealing with the high of his orgasm.
Eboni could only nod, feeling the mixture of themselves running down her leg. With her smile gone and tongue hanging out while panting, Jeff spits onto it.
"Swallow."
Eboni gulps with zero hesitation, whining for another kiss from Jeff. The two hold another sloppy kiss, Eboni still feeling his length pulsating inside her. Jeff breaks the kiss, licking Eboni's lips.
With their faces itches apart he speaks, "Be ready to get fucked like this from now on. I'm just getting started, princess."

#Spotify#jeff the killer#jeff the killer x reader#jeff the killer x you#ben drowned#eyeless jack#laughing jack#sally williams#bloody painter#yandere#creepypasta#creepypasta x reader#creepypasta x you#bdsmplay#bdsmkink#bdsmlife#bwwm love#bwwmromance#dark romance#horror#cw: gore#triggers#slenderman#ticci toby#tim masky#hoodie#zalgo#zalgo creepypasta#creepypasta smut#smut
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Gwynriel Day 12 - NSFW
A Court of Shadows - bonus chapter
I had proposed the idea at some point in the story of a bonus chapter featuring fire play which I decided to save for Gwynriel weeks. This particular chapter can be read without any major spoilers of the story.
Read on AO3
2863 words
Tugging on the knot to ensure it was secure, Gwyn’s fingers slid up, caressing the inside of Azriel’s wrist, watching his fingers curl and stretch toward her touch. She carefully wiggled two fingers under the thick, silk ribbon to check he had enough room. “Feel good?” she asked.
He hummed his agreement, his head hanging over the back of the chair as he watched her work. Standing, she allowed him a quick kiss. “Words, Shadowsinger,” she scolded, using the same reprimand he used when he was in control. He smirked.
“Yes, dove. You’re getting good at that.” His tone was a mix of pride and wariness.
Gwyn chuckled lightly. “I learned from the best.” Another quick kiss and then she stepped back, studying her handiwork, walking around him in a slow circle. She’d selected a chair with a low back that allowed his wings to hang freely and comfortably. His hands were bound together at the wrist and secured to either of the back chair legs, limiting his movement, just as his ankles were securely bound to the front legs. And he was beautifully, gloriously naked.
“Secure enough?” she asked. She watched, biting her lips as his muscles flexed, testing her knots.
After a moment, he looked up at her with a crooked smile. “I could get out of them if I wanted, but they’ll work for our purposes.”
“Good,” she grinned. “Do you like the new ribbon?”
“Yes… I see it wasn’t the only thing you bought today.” His eyes slid over her body as she stood before him, his heated gaze bringing a slight flush to her skin.
Smirking, Gwyn turned, giving him a view of her backside as she strode for the bag of ‘supplies’ she’d picked up in Velaris that morning when she’d gone shopping with the girls before she and Az had shut themselves away in their seaside cottage for the next week. Her friends had given her many raised eyebrows and knowing smirks with every purchase but mercifully refrained from any lewd comments.
She was very much looking forward to the next few days.
Az sucked in a breath, growling slightly as she bent over to rummage through one of the bags and she hid a smirk as he got an eyeful of the lingerie she’d purchased in the same cobalt blue of his siphons that had been specially designed for ‘easy access’. Rising back to standing, she showed him the items she’d selected. A bottle of scented oil and a black silk blindfold.
He raised a brow as she stopped directly in front of him, close enough to touch- if he had the use of his hands. “Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked him for about the fifth time that evening. She could feel his nerves through the bond, could feel the way he trembled slightly as he breathed in slow and deep and nodded.
“Yes. I don’t want to be scared of your fire, Gwyn. I know you won’t hurt me- I trust you.”
Her heart squeezed at the open, vulnerable expression in his eyes. He’d come a long way since he’d begun therapy and she knew that, while it was still difficult to be so honest and open about his fears and insecurities, he was trying. And that’s all she’d ever asked of him. Laying a hand on his cheek, she bent down and kissed him thoroughly. He sighed contentedly when she pulled back.
“Safe words?”
Smiling, he nuzzled his nose against hers. “Mercy to pause. Red to stop.”
She gave him one more quick peck before pulling away entirely. “Good.” Holding up the hand with the blindfold, she let it unfurl. “Ready?”
“Yes.”
With that word, her entire demeanor changed. Her body took on a looser, seductive quality as she leaned her weight into one hip, exaggerating her curves as her face became a mask of command. Azriel’s eyes darkened with vicious delight.
“From now on,” she said, pitching her voice slightly lower into the smoky timbre he liked. “You will address me as My Lady. Understood?”
“Yes, my lady.” His lips curled upward just the slightest bit as she nodded and sat the bottle between his spread thighs on the seat before moving around behind him once more. Slipping the blindfold over his closed eyes, Azriel obligingly tilted his head forward so she could tie the ribbon behind his head. It had been designed to fit snugly over the contours of his eyes and nose to completely block out light without putting extra pressure. He hummed appreciatively as she adjusted it into place and he moved his head around experimentally to test it out.
“You like?”
“I do. I might have to get a few more of these,” he said thoughtfully. Gwyn shook her head. Always the Spymaster.
“Good, now, sit still.” Azriel obediently stilled. Lifting a hand, one of his shadows brought the bottle of oil to her and smiled at it, smoothing a finger over it as it wrapped itself around her. “Thank you darling,” she cooed. Pouring some oil into her palm, she handed it back to the shadow. “Hold on to that for me, would you?”
It twirled- a movement she’d learned was the shadows version of nodding, and hovered to the side, ready to hand the bottle back to her when she was ready. Azriel muttered over his shoulder, “traitors.” and his shadows vibrated as though laughing.
Gwyn couldn’t help her grin.
“Relax,” she purred, spreading the oil between her hands and pushing her power into her palms to warm it up. She’d developed an immunity to heat and fire once her powers had manifested- she’d also lost her tendency to burn in the sun, much to her amusement- a fact she’d taken full advantage of during the summer, laying out on the beach behind their cottage until her skin had darkened to a warm golden hue. Azriel had nearly pouted when her freckles had begun to blend into her darker skintone and demanded she stop getting so much sun.
Because of this loss of sensitivity, she again held out a hand, allowing one of his shadows to dart forward and test the temperature. Once it twirled away in approval, she reached forward and- without warning- smoothed her hands along the arch of either wing. Azriel immediately jerked, his head dropping back in a growl. He cursed under his breath but said nothing else so she kept going, reaching as far as she could until her chest was pressed up against his back as she stretched her arms to either side.
With his head resting on her shoulder, she nipped her teeth along the lobe of his ear as her hands worked in long, slow strokes until she felt his tense muscles slowly relax under her touch. Occasionally she pushed more pulses of heat through her palm, feeling him momentarily tense then relax as she worked her way over the stiff spines of his wings and the sensitive membrane until she felt the oil dissipate. Holding out her hands, the shadow holding the bottle of oil helpfully poured more into her palm.
Azriel began to grow restless at the loss of her touch and she kept him distracted with kisses along his neck and jaw as she warmed up the oil in her hands. His breathing was slightly ragged but steady belying the throbbing erection she could see as she peered over his shoulder and down his chest. She had already planned out exactly how this night would go in her head and it would be a good long while before his poor cock would receive any attention.
Tonight would be a true test of his patience… and she was only just getting started.
Bringing her hands to his shoulders, she began working the hot oil into the muscles of his back and neck, occasionally teasing his wings and nipping at him with her lips and teeth. Slowly, methodically, she worked her way around his body massaging hot oil into his arms, chest, abs, thighs, all the way down to his bound ankles. By the time she was done, Az was a panting, writhing thing, pulling at his restraints.
“Gwyn-” he whined, yelping when she pinched the inside of his thigh. “Fuck- sorry. My Lady… fucking please stop teasing and touch me.”
“I am touching you,” she cooed, running her hands back up his thighs, skimming dangerously close to his hips which bucked towards her. His groan caught in his throat, sounding more like a whimper.
“Please.”
Gwyn hummed softly, working her hands in soft strokes moving closer and closer to his cock. “You beg so pretty for me. Do it again.”
“Please- my lady.”
Smirking, Gwyn framed his cock between her hands, smoothing them up over his hips and stomach so her thumbs brushed either side of him. “Oh- fuck.” Leaning forward, she followed the touch with her lips, running them featherlight over his length until he made that same whimpering noise. Pressing a kiss to the tip, she pulled away from him entirely, drawing a growl from him.
She swallowed a chuckle as she stood and leaned forward, threading her fingers into his hair to tilt his head back. “I’m not done playing with you yet,” she said against his lips.
A needy groan worked its way up his throat as she kissed him, pulling the blindfold off and letting it fall to the ground. “That was just the warm up, love. We haven’t even used my actual fire yet,” she flashed him a grin, holding her hand up so he could see the flames dancing over her finger tips.
He did whimper then, his gaze glued to the fire. “Check in,” she whispered. “Are you ok to keep going?”
She watched him lick his lips, swallowing nervously. His eyes never left her hand even as the flame flickered out. “What’s next?” he breathed.
In answer, she turned back to her bag and withdrew her last purchase, holding it up for him to see. A skin safe wax candle that melted at low temperatures. Perfect for the sort of game they were about to play. She watched his eyes narrow as he worked out her plan. He shifted in his seat but didn’t protest. “Want to keep going?” she asked once more.
Slowly, he nodded. “Yes.”
Smiling softly, she leaned in for another kiss. “Try to relax.” He huffed a sound of disbelief.
Holding the candle in front of her, she held one hand under it, her fire sparking to life once more. She’d bought this one specifically for several reasons, but mostly because the glass was clear, allowing them both to watch the wax melt, and because the wax changed color from white to red as it melted.
She could see Azriel’s chest moving in controlled breaths as he prepared himself and prayed this was not a massive mistake. She had figured it would be easier to ease him in using conduits that could hold the warmth of her flame without actually bringing the flame to his skin until he was more comfortable with it. Still, she knew the sting of the wax, even at a low melting point would be a shock.
Once the entire contents of the glass had turned red, she pulled her fire back in and carefully raised the jar so it hovered a few feet over his chest. “Ready?” she asked. Together, they both took a deep breath as she tipped her wrist, watching the wax pour from the spout and drizzle across the center of his chest. Azriel hissed and tensed as the wax rolled a single line down the center of his torso, slowing to a stop just above his navel.
“Okay?” she asked. The skin around where the wax had first landed was slightly reddened, but his shadows did not seem alarmed so she could only assume he was not truly burned.
Swallowing hard, Azriel nodded and she decided to let the lack of verbal response go as she tipped her wrist once more, this time moving her arm in an arc as the wax drew a red line from his right shoulder to left pec. Moving her arm slowly, she painted a zigzagging line across his upper body, watching the wax roll across the ridges of his abdomen, stopping short of his hips. The first line she’d drawn was gradually fading to white as it cooled but the rest almost looked like blood as it dripped over his skin. The picture was as arousing as it was alarming.
She checked on Azriel again and when he nodded once more that he was alright, she continued painting the rest of his body with careful lines of red across his thighs, chest and shoulders, moving around him to draw thin lines over his wings. When she was about halfway through the contents of the jar, he was covered in dripping lines of red and white, his chest heaving and skin red and covered in a sheen of sweat.
Standing back to admire her work, she tilted her head to the side and drizzled another line over his chest, making sure to catch his nipples. Azriel groaned and jerked in his restraints. “Fuck- Gods, Gw- My lady… please.”
Reaching out, she stroked a warm hand over his cheek and rather than flinching away from it, he leaned into the touch which she could only count as a win. “How are you doing, love?”
“Good” he said through clenched teeth. “But I’m dying. I need you to touch my cock. Please.”
She chuckled. “Aw, is your cock feeling neglected?” she asked with a pout. “I can fix that-” she held the candle over his hips, grinning when he immediately bucked and growled.
“Fuck- no.”
Laughing she kissed him. “Don’t worry, love. I’m not that cruel. You’re the sadist, not me.” He growled against her mouth, his shadows suddenly swarming around her, stroking her exposed skin in cool touches that made her shiver.
Tugging sharply at his hair, she hissed at them. “It’s not your turn yet.” They quickly backed off but she didn’t miss the fact that the candle was no longer in her hand. Cheeky bastards. Stroking her now free hand over his jaw, she felt a groan rumble through him at the heat before she pulled away.
“Don’t worry, we’re done with the candle and the oil for now. The only hot thing touching you from here on will be my mouth.” He moaned in relief as her kisses trailed down his neck. Reaching down, she slipped her nail under the edge of the puddle of cooled wax around one nipple and peeled it off, earning another groan as she repeated the process on the other side.
Leaning back to look down at him she mused, “We should probably clean you up first.”
This earned her a warning growl- amusing since she was the one in charge. Though they both knew that the minute she was done playing with him and it was his turn- he’d make her pay for every minute of teasing she’d just put him through. Winking, she snapped her fingers, the wax disappearing from his skin, leaving behind faint red marks in the places more recently touched by the wax that hadn’t yet faded.
“What a pretty picture you make.”
“Gwyn- My lady” he corrected when she tugged on his hair. “Please.”
“Beg again, love. You know how I like it.”
“Please,” he snarled.
“Such attitude,” she teased, lowering to her knees between his thighs. “You’re lucky I’m feeling generous.” Before he could growl at her again, she had his cock between her lips, sucking him into her mouth with no preamble.
“Fuck,” he shouted as he bucked into her mouth. There was no hiding her arousal now and she let him scent it as she glanced up at him beneath her lashes. She could feel he was close but, after that initial suck, made herself take her time licking and kissing and teasing him until his words were an intelligible jumble of threats and pleading.
Her hands had been massaging and stroking his thighs and stomach as she worked and she felt his whole body tense as she scraped her nails over his hips just before his climax hit and he spilled himself into her mouth. She continued to lick and kiss him as he came down, cooing quiet praises.
“You did so good for me, love. So brave. My beautiful Shadowsinger.”
The low rumble that came from his chest was the only warning she got before he snapped his bonds, wings stretching wide as his arms swung around the back of the chair, snatching her up off the floor. She squeaked as he hauled her into his lap, burying his hands in her hair and kissing her hard while his shadows worked to release his ankles.
His body tense, curling into a crouch as he tucked her against his chest. His eyes gleamed wickedly in the darkened shadow of his wings as he grinned. “My turn.”
And her vision became a world of shadows as she laughed.
#gwynriel weeks 2024#gwynriel#gwyn x azriel#gwyn and azriel#azriel and gwyn#azriel x gwyn#gwynriel smut
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Chapter 13 - Oscillation
Oscillation (noun) 1. movement back and forth in a regular rhythm. 2. egular variation in magnitude or position about a central point, especially of an electric current or voltage
Tags & Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Biting, Blood There's a reference to a vynil Alastor is playing. Although not mentioned, I'd recommend listening to "Somethings Gotta Give" by Bing Crosby
It has been almost a week and frankly: You were getting pissed . Six days. SIX. FUCKING. DAYS since the fateful night, when a lapse in good judgment and a moment of weakness caused a whole cascade of events. And for these past six days, the radio demon had been uncharacteristically elusive.
You hadn't seen him the morning after the incident, as was to be expected. But then the next day came and went and a third, fourth and fifth one passed without even so much as a glimpse of his crimson suit. First you had felt uneasy - Charlie and Vaggie had told you Alastor had urgent business in his own territory to attend, and he left you to the hotel to work on his behalf - as a good assistant should do.
And you did – you attended meetings with Charlie and Vaggie, took care of Niffty, sorted through hoards of order forms for alcohol, supplies and vendors for the upcoming event. But uneasy quickly shifted to annoyed. While everyone seemed to be more at ease since Alastor left the hotel, you got grumpier each passing day.
Maybe the outcome hadn't been as harmless and forgivable as you thought. Maybe he was just tired of your constant presence. Maybe you had become a burden. Maybe...
"Maybe he's just busy. Like I've said before, it's not like this train wreck of a hotel is the only place who needs him around, doll." Angel's voice interrupted your angry brooding as he helped himself to another batch of eggs and bacon you had prepared for breakfast at day six.
You sighed with a badly suppressed scoff and leaned back on the counter. You weren't sure what about the Karaoke night had kicked off Angel's interest in you, but as Alastor had decided to vanish with no notice, Angel had replaced his position in constantly being around you – at least when he was not working. On the third day alone he had knocked at your door and invited you to watch a movie together in his room, having a rare night off. You had agreed, only after him promising you that it wouldn't be a show-and-tell of the films he was starring in, and you were more than pleasantly surprised when he opened the case of 'The Rocky Horror Picture Show'. Your mind flashed back to that memory.
Three days before
“Thought this would be a good mix of the two of us, Rocks. 'Ya get the show tunes, I get hot dudes in leather, lingerie and golden pants. Win-Win.” For most people, he would've been the worst companion to watch movies with – Angel commented on every- and anything, laughed loudly, hollered and screamed at the laptop screen. But you loved it. He kept you too busy to feel lonely, filling the room with too much noise to fill it with your concerns. He even coerced you into singing along, putting the volume on high during the time warp and pulling you from his bed to do the cheesy choreography, his pig jumping and weaving through the mess of legs and arms with happy squeaks..
“Man, they don't make movies like this down here.”, Angel said over the last notes of 'Science Fiction/Double Feature' and rolled over on his back, placing his head on your lap. “I'd make a killer Frank N. Furter.”
You scoffed playfully. “Sure thing, Magenta.”
"You know, I oughtta be offended, but 'ya know what: I'd rock that role too – she got killer looks and style, just like ma'self!” He posed with an arched back, a golden tooth glimmered in his confident grin. You shuffled away from his side of the bed and sat up, stretching yourself.
“If someone could pull off playing both of those simultaneously, it'd be you.”, you teased, one corner of your mouth twitching. Angel stared at you, before pointing at you in playful outrage.
“STAP. Don't you dare smile at me now, Rocky Mountain, we got a good thing goin' on here. 'Ya neva change a runnin' system!” He laughed at your wildly flicking ears and overly frowning face you made at that comment and pulled you into a hug. Your face was smushed in his chest fluff, it was soft and warm and tickled your nose. To your own surprise, you eased into his embrace.
“Thank you for this, Angel... I needed that.” Your voice was muffled by the feathery fluff, but Angel replied, his voice now softer and more real than before.
“I know. 'Ya were beginning to look like it, toots.” He gently pulled you away and looked at you, a crooked smile on his lips. “'I couldn't take another day of you mopin' around missing the creepy version of red ridin' hood.”
You stared at him. “Why would you think...”
Angel rolled his eyes. “Oh please, 'ya can maybe fool the others - the drunk, the crazy and the do-good-duo - but I'm not that stupid. I've seen how 'ya looked at him when we went out. 'Ya really didn't make it subtle." he chuckled. “Also, ma' little eye spied that...” He grabbed your hand, tapping on the red thread that you had (now neatly knotted) around your finger. “Call me Sherlock, but 'ya didn't have that before he was gone.”
You looked at the floor. What were you allowed to say now? Could you bend the truth so you wouldn't have to actually lie to him? Because... you really didn't want to lie to him. But the rules, we have to remember the rules! Angel noticed your inner struggle, and gently patted your head. "Look, 'ya don't gotta tell me. It's alright. But if 'ya ever want to, 'ya can talk to me 'bout it. I won't spill, I'll even throw in a pinky promise."
You wanted to talk. You did. You just had to be careful.
"I might.... have have developed some kind of... crush.. on him.”
Angel slapped his thighs with all four arms. “HA! I KNEW IT!” At the look you gave him he cleared his throat. “Sorry, sorry, that - ah, 'ya know, that just came out. I'll behave.” he said apologetically. “So, 'ya fancy 'ya boss, big whoop. You aren't the first, babycakes."
“It's not just that...”
Angel studied your flushed face. You looked at the red thread on your finger, trying to figure out how to stay vague while still tell Angel what happened. "He, um, may have caught me, in a moment of... private weakness, so to say."
"Whaddaya mean, moment of..." You glanced at him with a tortured expression, face now really hot, and could literally hear the bulb above his head flicking on. "Oh... OOOOOOH Satan..."
"Yeah. And now he hasn't been around since then."
A short silence fell. Angel dragged a hand over his face and a long drawn out "That stupid asshat..." could be heard through his slender fingers. "Okay, let me just get this clear, because I really need to make sure I don't hallucinate..." He took a deep breath, massaging his furrowed brows.
"Alastor, 'ya boss, came to ya and when 'ya were... uh.. rubbin' the nubbin so to say... and he caught 'ya?"
You nodded, avoiding his gaze.
"And then, he did... what, exactly?" His face was wild with confused curiosity. "I mean, 'ya still breathing, so he didn't kill 'ya."
"No. He didn't. In fact...“ you hesitated. Better to leave out the whole... ripping-hurting-monster-part... „he apologized, for what happened."
"He apolo... He apologized?! You're sure that was Smiley the murderclown?" Angel started to laugh nervously, but his face fell into something like pity when he saw your expression. The spider sighed and put one of his arms around your shoulders. "Sorry, bad habits die hard. Alright, so, now that he's gone MIA 'ya think it's because of... that?"
You pressed your palms on your face. This whole thing was a disaster.
„Hey, don't make that face, Rocks, it's gonna be fiiiine, don't worry. It's not the first time creepyface left the hotel for days. Could be totally unrelated.“ Angel squeezed you into his side, giving you a faint smile. “Please don't tell anyone...”
He held up four pinky fingers. “'Ya secret's safe with me, babes.”
Present day
"I know, I know... It's not like him, you know? I can't recall a time when he didn't check in with me for that long." At his suggestive eyebrow wiggle you added, “....as his employee.” “Uh-huh. Sure.” Angel laughed, stabbing into the scrambled eggs. You threw a hand towel at him and he snickered in return as he caught it. Angel had quickly become the closest thing to a friend to you, and even though you hadn't told him everything, it still felt good to share a bit of your inner turmoil with him. And you noticed you had a lot of that for the past days. More than before. You found it oddly hard sometimes, to keep yourself together, to harden yourself against the increasingly bothering emotions. Angel also held his promise of keeping his mouth shut in front of the others. Just in moments like this, when nobody else was around, he teased you in good fun. “Watch it, or I'll make spaghetti for dinner and break them in half before cooking them.”
Angel gasped, hands clutching his chest. “'Ya. Wouldn't. Dare.” “And I'll cook them in unsalted water.”, you said with an evil glare. “Monster!”, he shouted dramatically and you cockily swished your tail at him. “Instead of being a judgy pain in the ass, how about you finally decide what you want to do in the showcase? You and Husk are the only ones who haven't told me.” Angel groaned, pushing his now empty plate away from him. “I already told 'ya. Not my fault if it doesn't please 'ya highness.”
You shook your head as you took his empty plate to the sink. “I know, what an outrage that we think a live peepshow isn't the most fitting act for a gala.”
“Your words, Rocks, not mine.”
You sighed. “Angel.” He avoided your gaze, his lips pressed to a tense line. You've learned that behind all the projected self-confidence and theatrics, the spider demon was just... insecure. “You are more than just your body, more than the sex scenes you film. I've seen you dance, not on a pole, really dancing – and you looked fabulous! Why don't you give that a try? Choose a song, and we'll put together a choreography. Show hell that you are a star – no porn-prefix needed.”
Angel lifted his mismatched eyes and blinked at you. He suddenly sounded... young. “Do 'ya really think that, or are 'ya just sayin' that so 'ya can check my name off that stupid list?” As an answer, you put down the still dripping plate in your hands, walked over to him and hugged him. It must have looked awkward, your arms around his feathery head, his face wedged in between them and pressed against your own, cold cheeks. But you felt him smile and his hands snaking around your waist, returning the pressure.
“Alright, toots. For you.”
On the way to the bar, you were writing in the heavy, bulky planner Vaggie had given you. With Angel finally convinced, you only had one name without a contribution left open – Husk. You checked the list again, wondering how the hell you could put together a coherent and entertaining show out of all these acts. Charlie, of course, wanted to sing, but with Vaggie's insistant interjections she begrudgingly compromised on hosting through the program. In turn, you offered to have her and Vaggie perform an opener with you, and even though the latter wasn't too enthusiastic about that, both were fine with the arrangement. When asked what she wanted to do, Niffty had been... excited, to put it diplomatically. “I can train the bugs I catch to make them jump through hoops, or maybe do a magic trick and saw a rat in half, or maybe, maybe I could chain myself and do an escape trick, or maybe...” “You know what, Niff, I can work with that... just... maybe show it to me beforehand so we can, umm, tweak it a bit, to round the corners, okay?”
When you walked up to the bar, Husk was just finishing his second breakfast burrito. You eyed the glass of blood orange juice with suspicion. "You didn't put vodka in it I hope. We have a deal." The cat huffed at you, wiping his greasy fingers on his pants. "'Yo lose one time at UNO, and that's whatcha get." You internally grinned. On day 4 w.A.p (without Alastor present), Charlie had invited everyone for a game night. Husk, gambler that he was, was intrigued when you proposed to rise the stakes by having the loser of the night make a 'redeemable' change, voted by the others. To your great satisfaction, Husk was awful at UNO (he lost by a freaking landslide, with you and Angel showering him in take-fours) and when you proposed that he should have at least two meals a day with non-alcoholic drinks, everyone gleefully agreed. While the cat was openly annoyed with you for it, you found the hidden glimmer of gratefulness in his gaze in that moment was more rewarding than you thought it would be. You could play the part of a conscienful adult, especially when it was for others, even when your mind was ever so often preoccupied with thoughts of him .
"You know why I'm here, Husk." you lean over the bartop, raising a brow. "You're not getting out of this show without a contribution."
"I can't contribute shit to this stupid party, and 'yo know it."
"Come on. You do your cheesy card tricks every night, even if the only crowd's Angel, I'm sure you have other talents, too." He frowned and you tried again. "I'm literally taking anything. You could juggle cocktail shakers, or swallow fire while unicycling, it'll fit perfectly in this... eclectic roster!" Husk rolled his eyes, a sarcastic smile spreading on his lips.
"Sure. Everyone would love to see an old, washed-up drunkard perform for shits and giggles." His sarcastic grin disappeared instantly and he looked away, ears sinking to the side.
Your gaze softened and you grabbed his arm. "Don't give me that bullshit, Husk. What, just tell me what I work with here. Honestly."
The cat demon shifted uncomfortably under your expectant eyes, opening and closing his mouth as if debating with himself. Then his voice came in a grumpy grumble. "I used to play the trumpet."
You blinked. Then blinked again. That was.. cool, actually, the image fitted him perfectly.
"...The trumpet? You did?"
Husk nodded, refusing to meet your eyes and shoved his little hat deeper down his brow. "Used to be sumthin' I was really good at. Played in my... well, in bars and casinos. Even wrote my own pieces sometimes...", his face shifted, first to something sentimental, then into... resignation. "Haven't played in years, though." He scratched his neck awkwardly.
"Then play a duet with me, Husk.", you declared confidently. "Choose something that isn't too demanding, maybe even write something, I'll play the piano, you the trumpet - so you won't have to do it alone. We still have about a month and a half!"
Husk stared at you, searching for the hidden agenda behind that generous offer. Finding none, he laughed quietly. "Are 'yo serious? 'Yo know how hard that'll be, right?"
"Like I said, it's you and me both, old man." you replied softly. “Cling together, swing together.”
Husk ran his paws over his eyes, shaking his head in disbelieve – but he couldn't hide the slight grin that flickered over his face. "Aw fuck, fine. Just don't complain when it sounds like a damn disaster."
"YES!" You flipped open the planner and checked his name with dramatic flourish on the paper. "And that's a wrap, thank satan!"
Husk chuckled, emptying his juice and refilling the glass with his usual cheap booze. You shut the thick binder and sighed. Now the timer was reset: You had to rehearse, and organize. But not today. The only thing you'd do today is tell Charlie of your progress, as soon as she and Vaggie would return from their shopping spree they had planned for this morning.
You were almost at the top of the stairs leading to your floor when Angel came down from it, polished and dressed in a flashy, baby-pink coat and big, star-shaped sunglasses. “Off to work I see?”, you said, a mixture of compassionate pity and cheeky teasing in your voice. Behind the yellow glass, Angels eyes widened. “Um... what the fuck, Rocks? Why are you here?”
You paused, cocking a brow in confusion. “...I'm working here?” Angel looked just as puzzled as you. “No shit, that's not what I mean. Why are you here here and not at Al's Radio tower?”
You shook your head, still trying to make sense of him. What the hell was with him? “Why would I be there?” “Because...”, Angel whipped his head from you to the staircase, then back to you, eyes narrowing and a scowl forming around his lips. “... bootleg bambi came back. I've met him on my way to my room, after breakfast. I thought he went straight to tell 'ya. Don't tell me he didn't fucking show his face?”
He... what?!”, you stuttered, your face instantly hot. Alastor was back? Was he back for good now? Or was he still busy? And why didn't he come to see you?
"Woah, hold 'on, doll... are 'ya blushin'? No, no, no. Focus, girl. Aren't 'ya gonna rip him a new one, or at least ream him a good talkin'-to?", Angel raised one eyebrow in question and watched you. "Or aren't 'ya ticked at the asshole anymore?"
The more time passed, the harder it got not to let your thoughts spiral down again, so you started to wiggle on the thread around your finger nervously, turning it absent mindedly.
Yeah. Why weren't you pissed? You should be pissed. You were pissed.
A sheen of red covered your sight. You turned on your heels and stormed up the stairs, leaving a smug looking Angel behind. With each step of the stairs, your rising anger doubled in intensity. What the hell? He was here since MORNING and didn't even care to tell you? You stared at the hatch to his broadcasting room, contemplating to just bulldoze your way in. He'd deserve it, that fucking... You took a deep breath, inhale to cool your anger, exhale to relieve the energy of your fury. Get a grip. Inhale, exhale. The red sheen lifted, the voice in your head got more tame, and quieted down. You knocked, three times, your fingers tense in the fist. The hatch door opened and there he was, right as rain, smiling nonchalantly down to you.
"Ah, hello, kitten! You look absolutely dashing this morning." His voice was as smooth as a crooned ballad. You simply stared at him, ears tense and tail high on alert. Alastor bent down now, not quite a grin, not quite a smile on his lips. "Come in, come in, you've never been to my humble abode, have you?" He reached out his hand to you, and you unwillingly took it as he lifted you up.
The broadcasting room was spacious and surprisingly bright, the predominantly glassed top overlooking Pentagram City. The walls that weren't occupied with technical equipment were lined with heavy wooden shelves filled with vintage radios, vinyls and other paraphernalia, meticulously organized and extravagantly decorated, as you had assumed from him. It was eerily clean. Only the microphone at the recording booth had some wear and tear. Well, not only that.
Alastor looked slightly different than usual, rougher, you'd even say more... unkempt. He eyed you, his thin-lipped smile threatening to slip. "My dear, you appear rather upset... what's the matter? Oh-ho, don' tell me... Have you missed me?" He laughed mockingly, as if in jest. You gritted your teeth, and resisted to give him a piece of your mind, forcing your trembling fists behind your back.
"Maybe." The word slipped through your fangs as you tightened the corners of your mouth. You didn't give him time to form an answer. "Just came to tell you, sir, that all contributions to the Blue Moon showcase are decided."
"Ah... yes, marvelous." Alastor cleared his throat. There it was again. A flicker in his grin.
So he has decided not to address the fact that he has left for almost a whole damn week and wanted to act like nothing had happened?
Oh, no. Not on our watch, Overlord or not.
He moved past you to a fancy shelf on the wall. "Now that this tiresome subject is done and I've been properly informed, my darling little helper, why don't you choose a vinyl? Pick anything you'd like, it has been a while since I've had someone I deemed worthy enough to enjoy it in here..."
"If you deem someone worthy, sir, shouldn't you treat them with equal respect and consideration in return?", you cut off, voice quiet.
Alastor stood completely still, fingers wrapped around an elegant black and red decorated cover, not saying a word. His ears were drawn back slightly, you saw the tips twitch. After a moment, he chuckled faintly and took the vinyl out, a slow rhythm starting to play from an adjacent record player. "Alastor, dear. And I know it hasn't been long, but you really did grow into a sharp tongue in my absence, haven't you, little gem? Is that a complaint?" His voice was strangely soothing and almost... despondent.
"Yes, it is. You've left me for almost a whole week without any instructions, or explanation. Especially after...", you hesitated, bringing your hands from your back to your front, tugging on the red, traitorous thread. Alastor stared at it, but his head quickly turned to the side, a far-away gaze on his crimson eyes.
"Right, of course." He stood a while, the vinyl cover still in his hand. You kept your breathing even and quiet while you waited. The anger was gone, vanished to make room for... sadness? You were sad. And insecure. And confused. That night, even after everything that happened, you had told him that you wanted him to stay with you, and he did - in that moment. It felt like a kind of confession to you, and him staying like acceptance. Maybe you had hoped that these blooming feelings of yours were... approbated at least, as outrageous as they were. But then he was gone without so much as a word, a message, a fucking carrier pigeon. As if this evening just simply became something so embarrassing that he had lost all respect for you. Something shameful to not even want to acknowledge it happened. A rejection you should've know was coming, yet you felt unprepared for.
No. We won't give up without at least trying.
"Yes." You said it into the silence, feeling the roughness of the yarn on your fingertips. We need to at least try. "I've missed you." We've missed you.
His body twitched unnaturally, his hands balling, and his eyes went from empty and faraway to ablaze and in focus in the matter of a split second. His fist closed tight around the vinyl cover, cracking the foiled case to pieces in an instant, ripping the paper inlay to shreds. With his shoulders pushed back and chin raised, he rounded you, gliding behind you and pinned you in your position like an insect to a piece of cardboard, his voice cracking with static feedback.
"Dangerous words, my dear. I seem to have.... miscalculated the circumstances, when it comes to you." His claws tore across your clothes, grazing along and quickly undoing your belt, lifting the hem of your blouse slightly as he did. His hands slithered under the silken fabric, grazing over the sensitive flesh of your breasts. Two buttons popped, but you couldn't care less. The delicious shivers that ran down your spine made you tremble in his grasp, and he chuckled at the feeling.
You closed your eyes with a quiet hiss when his clawed fingertips circled your nipples, the sharp tip of his red nails brushing over their apex. The heat of his body radiated against your back, your clothes suddenly felt like a burden. Please, if this was a dream, don't let us wake up.
"It seems you represented me worthily in my absence, my jewel girl." Oh god, that voice. His jewel girl. His. How you had missed that dark, twisted voice. His hand gave a soft squeeze to the curve he was fondling. "I think that calls for a reward. Do you agree?"
Even in the rush of the moment, you felt like this wasn't just a rhetorical question. It felt like a question of consent – Do you want this? Maybe you were just delusional. Maybe you were finally becoming insane. But you nodded nonetheless. “ɨ ռɛɛɖ ȶօ ɦɛǟʀ ɨȶ,” (I need to hear it.) His voice was laced with muffled white noise, loud and on the brink of breaking. “Yes.” was all you could breathe. He finally pushed the cursed fabric off your shoulders, letting the cloth slip down your form as it exposed every inch of your sensitive skin to the chill air of the room and the burning heat of his hands. It landed in a pool around your ankles, your naked chest bare for him to explore. Thank fuck we didn't wear a bra today.
His hands roamed freely over your shivering form, nails scraping and fingers digging into soft, supple curves. A soft tug in the curls of your hair made you gasp in surprise and he seized the opportunity to pull your head back and draw your lips onto his. Your mind short-circuited. Oh sweet hell...
Alastor was kissing you.
The kiss was hot and possessive. Suffocating almost, his tongue explored your mouth hungrily, leaving you unable to breathe, let alone think straight. His grip tightened as his tongue pressed deeper into you, earning him an uncontrollable, desperate whine from you that vibrated into his mouth. He laughed coarsely in response, pulling you away from him with his claws in your hair just enough for his wicked tongue to trace the contour of your lip, licking and biting and kissing his way down to your neck, sharp teeth nipping your tender skin. You felt dizzy, closing your eyes and struggling to keep yourself from touching him, as if he'd disappear if you did. His enlarged antlers became entangled in the charcoal mess of hair that cascaded over your shoulders the further he went down.
You felt Alastor's forehead pressing against the valley of your shoulderblades, his hand moved from your breast down your side to claw into your hips and he breathed almost as heavily as you. His presence was so commanding, simply overpowering, it made you weak in the knees. You desperately wanted to see him, to confirm that he was as lost as you. Please, look at us. But of course, you weren't courageous enough to pull yourself away from him and possibly break the spell you both were under.
“Oh..”
Your eyes snapped open as a firm grip settled itself between your legs, the skin under his palm almost unbearably hot. When did he slip past your waistband? The pressure he placed between your thighs had you desperately mewling, your senses all screaming for him. His fingertips parted the hot folds, searching the slick entrance and settling on rubbing the little button that gave you so much pleasure. Alastor practically radiated static electricity, humming in approval, and continued to stroke the fleshy button between your thighs. His free hand moved to your throat, wrapping his long digits carefully around it and pushed your head to the side. He leaned forward, teeth dangerously pricking your thin, delicate skin, ready to draw blood. You didn't care. His moist, raspy breath filled you with nothing but lust and urgency. He can take it all, we don't care.
You felt how he started pushing himself against you, his lean hips pressing his erection against the cleft of your ass and it made you want to scream in bliss that you were the one who ignited this atypical kind of physical reaction from him. We want him, and he wants us. Through your surpressed moans and muffled sobs he practically purred a sly demand:
"Don't hold back, my darling girl. ֆɦօա ʏօʊʀ ʍǟֆȶɛʀ ɦօա ʏօʊ ʟօռɢɛɖ ʄօʀ ɦɨʍ ɨռ ɦɨֆ ǟɮֆɛռƈɛ...” (Show your master how you longed for him in his absence...)
The rhythm of his finger around your clit became faster, and with two added fingers pushing in and out of you in an agonizing speed uncontrolled moans were bubbling up in your throat which, with his encouragement, you let spill from your lips freely. We are burning. We can't take this. We want more.
As if he could hear the cacophony of voices inside you he pulled his hand away from your heated core. The loss of touch made you cry out in frustrated tears. That was until you felt yourself lifted and carried. On instinct you wrapped your arms around his neck, resulting in a low, almost feral growl from him. Alastor sat you down hastily on the main broadcasting console, slicing your pants into ribbons in the process and ripping them from your legs without care. He finally looked you in the eyes – dark burgundy pits with spinning red dials. His predatory, hungry gaze knocked all air out of your lungs. You quickly started to pull your hands back, but he caught your wrists and returned them to back at his neck, his eyes never leaving yours.
“ɖօ ռօȶ ʟօօӄ ǟաǟʏ.” (Do not look away.)
You couldn't even if you tried. The sound of a clicking belt buckle and quickly ruffled fabrics widened your eyes. Your surroundings, even Alastor's face, shimmered in technicolor, phasing through blues and pinks and yellows and reds like you were looking through a kaleidoscope that refracts light into every imaginable spectrum. And then his length slowly sank into the warmth and wetness of your center. A hot rush spread inside of you, it felt exhilarating as the base of his throbbing cock pressed against your needy entrance. You felt his girth fill and stretch the sensitive area inside, rubbing and slamming the sensitive spot he was working so diligently on just a moment ago, your body exploding and quivering with every movement. Your mind went blank, dizzied with pure, primal desire. The voices in your head an echo of the past, muted. Blissful silence except for the symphony of his body against yours. His ragged breath was the most beautiful music you've ever heard. You never wanted him to stop.
In unison with another powerful thrust, he sank his sharp teeth into your shoulder, tearing through skin and drawing blood that seeped past his lips. It was a stinging pain, but you welcomed it, and combined with his lecherous stroking it set off fireworks inside you as you sang his name loud and unabashed, squirming against his feverishly moving hips. His mouth sucked in the dripping liquid with hungry fervor, teeth like daggers digging in further, locking in and threatening to penetrate through to the other side as his member buried into the pulsing heat. You felt your climax approaching, too soon, too soon, and it crashed down on you like a storm wave. With a low growl that could've as well been a lusty sigh, he pushed in one last time before he, too, came to his release. The weight of his warm body against your chest and his sticky seed dripping from you made you want to fully melt into him, to fuse with him and never let yourself be separated.
As your afterglow settled in, his jaw released you and as soon as the tip of his hard shaft left, your whole composure crumpled, you fell on your back, buttons and switches and dials pressing into your back. You barely felt the impact as your vision faded in and out of focus, lids heavy like lead.
Two firm yet gentle hands slowly turned your head from it's side upright again. When you opened your eyes to a blur, his face swam into view, now crimson eyes boring into yours as you laid limply beneath him. A heavy tear dripped out the corners of your tired eyes, the over stimulation of your orgasm and the returning voices (and with them – conflicting emotions) too intense to keep it in. Alastor's face softened with a chuckle, and with the back of his clawed hand he brushed your cheek. He leaned forward, cupping your face and a pair of smooth lips hovered near yours, brushing them softly in a barely there kiss. It was all you needed to ignore any other feeling than that of fulfillment.
Let us be delusional then. Let us be mad. Insane. Crazy, Delirious.
Your lips pulled into a blissful smile.
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#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#alastor#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel fanfiction#fraugwinskawrites#ao3 fanfic#method to madness#angel dust#charlie morningstar#metoma#radiogem
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urge
25+ characters // impatient Yuji // stripping // dry humping wc 690 bonus chapter for this: extended fic previous | next

You flop on the sofa in Megumi's apartment, feeling tired all of a sudden after your eventful evening. Yuji pulls you closer for a snuggle as Megumi heads for a shower, wanting to freshen up and get changed.
“Mm Yuji, you’re so warm…” you wrap your arms around him, enjoying his comforting touch.
“I’m even warmer under here,” he takes your hand and pushes his jumper up, your eyes widening as you feel his body.
You’ve seen Yuji in tight t-shirts and well fitting smart shirts, but you’ve never actually seen his body before, let alone touched him. “Oh, Yuji…” you whisper as you feel his abs, earning a giggle, “What? Am I more ripped than Gumi?”
Megumi has more lean muscle and cooler, paler skin with blue veins showing through, his skin looking almost translucent in places. His delicate and somewhat feminine facial features, namely his long eyelashes and pretty dark eyes, contrast with his strong, masculine figure. Yuji is so, so different, and you’re taken aback as you feel his gorgeous body beneath his jumper.
You feel your face heating up and you pull your hand out before either of you get too worked up.
You’re trying so hard to wait patiently for Megumi to return, but you and Yuji just can’t keep your hands off each other. You kneel up on his lap, straddling him in your short dress.
“You sure this is ok?” He sounds a little hesitant.
“He’s your best friend,” you say quietly as Yuji nods, “you know he trusts you,” he nods quickly, smiling up at you. God, he’s so cute. “He knows you can take care of me, Yuji,” you smile, prodding his bulging chest.
Then you feel something else bulging from beneath you as Yuji lets out a sigh, suddenly grabbing your hips. “Yuji…” you whine a little, not wanting to get too turned on before Megumi joins you. You're afraid it might be too late already as Yuji’s hips start moving, grinding his erection into you impatiently.
“Ok Yuji, if you stay still I'll reward you,” you tell him.
“Reward?” He tilts his head, just about managing to still his hips.
“Good job, Yuji,” you stroke his jaw as he leans into your touch, enjoying your praise with a cute smile, “you can have your reward now,” you smile as you stand up, your fingers curling around the bottom edge of your tight dress, pulling it up slowly.
You tease the hem up over your thighs then fully remove the material, leaving you in your lacy, black lingerie and knee socks.
Yuji swallows hard, gazing over your body, “You, you let Gumi choose your underwear too?” He murmurs in disbelief.
Is it really that obvious?
You nod, looking down and pulling your socks up, “It's not a matter of letting him, he can tell me what he wants… and I'll do it.”
“Whatever he wants?” Yuji asks breathlessly.
You nod again, smiling at Yuji's disbelieving expression.
“And tonight, you can tell me what you want, Yuji,” you murmur as you step closer to him.
Yuji's big hands find your waist.
“W-what I want…” his voice trembles a little. He pulls you in, his rough hands feeling up and down your back, settling on your ass, turning you slightly to see you in your little thong.
“Oh…” he whispers, gently stroking you, “Gumi… did this?” He turns you fully and stares at the now faded bruise on your ass. You nod, “So you'll have to be gentle with me tonight, ok?” You know Yuji is the last person on Earth you have to caution like this.
“I would never dream of…” he trails off as his hands massage your legs, suddenly turning you back around, pulling you onto his lap again.
“I'm gonna take such good care of you,” he looks up, holding you close.
“I know,” you smile, your fingers tracing over his lips then working up into his pink hair. He lets out some soft groans, gently rubbing his head against you as you stroke him. Yuji wraps his strong arms up your back, pulling you down harder as he loses his patience.
keep reading: connect masterlist bonus chapter m.list
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#female reader#yuji itadori#yuji x reader#megumi fushiguro#megumi x reader
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HI SOMEONE ASKED FOR BOTTOM SCAR FICS AND I AM DELIVERING
(sorry if someone already suggested some that i'm gonna suggest, i guess those fics are the ones who marked us)
I would like to start with mumscarian, classic, ya know?
Dicentra by rosemaryKnight is very good, the last chapter is just Scar getting ruined by Grian and Mumbo and it's filled with funny moments and heartfelt moments.
The Best Reward by Anonymous is also one where Scar gets, just, ruined by Grian and Mumbo and I'm pretty sure there's a sweet aftercare moment at the end.
Grounded by Anonymous is elf Scar being teased by Mumbo and Grian (Mumbo is a dom in this one, but like, hhhnghghgn he just... ruins Scar in all the best ways) and the aftercare scene is just so soft, and I think The Best Reward and this fic have similarities in the aftercare scene, bc I often mix them up.
it feels so good, oh, to be alone with (both of) you by Anonymous (theres a lot of anonymous fics in the bottom scar tag) is where Mumbo is the sub, but he does fuck Scar and both of them are just enjoying it. I swear Grian is also there, he's quite important in this fic. It does have mommy/daddy kink, so, be warned.
Breaking News: Does Scar is Omega? by Sumilacra is just. Poignant. Like, yes, there is smut at the end, but they're so soft to each other ad respect Scar's boundaries and it's one of the few Aspec Scar fics I found (can you tell I'm often on the Scar tag?)
Next up, Scarian and others, bc ooo boy, scarian is quite popular but with a third person as well.
all your little dooms by Anonymous is just, Scar in a dress and teasing the heck out of Grian.
insatiable by Anonymous is Grian and Scar not wanting to top and are asking kinda the whole server who wants to join them. You will eventually see why no one wants to and why Tango is stuck in the mix. Okay, this might not be Sub Scar, but it's too funny to let it pass under the radar.
CuteGuy's Present by mecha_apocalyspe7 is Scar wearing lingerie and Grian wants to ravish him. Bonus points, genderqueer Scar hehe
In his grasp by mecha_apocalyspe7 is just Scar and Grian having soft sex while Grian dirty talks him. It's one hell of a time.
elation in my promise by Anonymous is after MCC 28, Grian and Cub just want to ruin Scar in his pretty little dress he wore for the event. Peak sub Scar here, right after Grounded, The Best Reward and Dicentra.
You're So Pretty by goodtimeswithgrian is college AU and Scar is down bad for Grian, so much that he goes into subspace.
Chirp by TheDirtySpirit is just scarian soft sex, once again, but Scar is the bottom.
A Different Kind of Wager by Anonymous is after HEP lost against the Resistance, Grian gets to fuck Scar.
I'm stuck in the past, Your eyes are on the future, Who's left to watch the present? by Its5amHere is a much darker fic than any here, including rape and using kinks against the other. It's double life fic where the soulbond feels each other's sexual pleasure and, well, let's just say Joel and Etho will do everything to get the enchanter back.
Now, there's 3 fics I still want to suggest before I leave writing my WIPs and procrastinate.
The Burning One, who seizes what his heart desires by orphancrow is a Convex smut fic, where Cub is the Pharaoh and Scar is his slave and Cub teases him and I just need to promote orphancrow's fics, but they also wrote (in the same series) a cubriande (cub/Ariana Griande) fic and I felt like Scar wasn't enough of a big feature to include it here, but go check out their work for some good convex fics.
The other convex smut fic is Hubris by KieIsWrite, and warning for rape/non-con, bc it's sculk Cub fucking Scar into joining him in the ways of the sculk.
And finally, A Jimmy/Scar smut fic. jimmy's famous baths by mecha_apocalysp7 is Scar teasing Jimmy and he might not be sub, but he is a bottom and a slut, so, have at it.
Okay, sorry for the long ask, but someone summoned me and I had to suggest all these amazing works. Bloop out!
Heres the links for all the fics! :D since bloop cant link in asks
Dicentra Grounded it feels so good, oh to be alone with (both of) you Breaking News: Does Scar is Omega? All your little dooms insatiable CuteGuy's Present In his grasp elation in my promise You're pretty when in control Chirp A differentt kind of wager I'm stuck in the past, Your eyes are on the future, Who's left to watch the present? The Burning One Hubris jimmy's famous baths
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Chapter Eight
Lee Bodecker (The Devil All The Time) x Femme Reader
A year after the sudden death of your husband you find yourself at a loose end, unsure what to do next. You're also learning about your sexuality - your hidden desires and fantasies creeping out now you're no longer playing the role of the good wife. A certain Sheriff in town could be the one to awaken something in you.
Series Masterlist
Chapter 9
WARNING: Huge TW for sexual assault/implied rape by secondary character in this chapter. It's not described with details but please skip if you need to
Your eyes flew open and you took a moment to gather your bearings. You were feeling much warmer than you usually were in bed, it was only then that you noticed the firm arm wrapped around you.
Lee.
You rolled over to face him. You must've drifted off as you were still clad in your lingerie. It felt wrong to be wearing it so early in the morning. You could feel your gusset was sticky with the spend from last night's venture. Lee must've put his arm around you at some point in the night which made you feel warm inside.
He was still in a deep sleep, snoring lightly. He looked so innocent while he slept, a far cry from the slightly scary man in his Sheriff uniform. His features were so much softer like this, his eyelashes long, his cheeks chubby. You couldn't resist running a finger under his jaw, desperate to touch him.
Lee stirred, turning to you as he woke. He smiled.
"Well ain't you a sight for sore eyes". His voice was lower than usual and croaky with sleep. You liked it.
"Good morning Lee" you sang, pressing a small kiss to his cheek.
He hummed contentedly, pulling you closer and nuzzling into your hair. It all so was comfortable, relaxed – you could get used to this.
"Have you gotta be up for work or should I fix you some breakfast?" you asked sleepily, his heated embrace making you drowsy again.
"Ain't gotta be in 'til eleven thirty today so breakfast sounds swell".
You made a noise of recognition and sat up to go get started on some eggs, but a strong hand tugged you back down into the mattress.
"Not so fast. I'm in the mood for a different kinda breakfast first" he teased as you shrieked and surrendered to his touch, melting into him.
🌼
Breakfast was nice. After going another round in the bedroom, you had made eggs and coffee for you both while Lee read the morning paper. You plated up at the table while Lee absent-mindedly ran a finger up your arm without looking up. It all felt very natural, very easy.
You talked for a while as you ate, the longest you had gone without kissing or touching since this whole thing had started. You were surprised to find you actually had things in common, the conversation flowed easily between you both.
Lee was feeling content. A beautiful woman hadn't made him breakfast in a long time, and the truth was he liked being with you. He liked having sex with you. He liked talking to you. He was content to see where it went.
He had even stopped driving out to Tecumseh to visit the working girls. He didn't need to now he had you. And funnily enough, despite their occupation, you were actually dirtier and more adventurous then most of them put together. Probably better for the Sheriff campaigns, too.
It was clear you still had some baggage and hang ups from your husband but that was to be expected. A year wasn't that long, after all. So he understood you might be feeling guilty or unsure. He'd certainly moved on from his ex-wife, but being a widow was a bit different to divorce.
What he couldn't wrap his head around was your husband's reluctance to fuck you, or thinking of you as a whore for wanting it. What kind of man doesn't want to have sex with his pretty wife? His pretty wife who is eager to explore all that sex has to offer, who is so keen to experiment and embrace pleasure that she reads dirty books in bed and touches herself before she goes to sleep?
A foolish man, he thought.
Still, the husband's loss was his gain. He was reaping all the rewards of your forced celibacy, and he was more than happy to help out. The great thing was you were just as attracted to him as he was to you. You didn't merely tolerate him, but enjoyed him – desiring every inch him, love handles and all.
"So, when you gonna let me take you out on a real date then?" Lee asked suddenly.
You choked on a mouthful of coffee, swallowing it down quickly. "W-what?" you asked.
Lee was unfazed. "You heard me. We could go somewhere nice. Get dressed up. And we wouldn't have t'sneak around no more".
You thought for a moment, "I'd like that...but what would they say?"
Lee shrugged. "Who cares what they fuckin' say?"
You chewed your lip as you mulled it over. It would be nice to go out on a real date with Lee, and you couldn't pretend you hadn't thought about dating him and doing more than just sleeping together. Part of you had a niggling fear that something wasn't right about him. But what could dating hurt? You could always break it off if it didn't work out.
"Okay" you smiled at him, "You're on. Where you taking me?"
Lee smiled back, taking a final sip of coffee and getting to his feet. "There's a new restaurant a few towns over we could try. Wednesday night maybe?"
You nod enthusiastically, trying to hide your excitement so you don't seem too keen. "I'm working the afternoon shift at the diner but if you don't mind a late dinner I can be home and ready for eight?"
Lee put his jacket on. "Great. I gotta get goin' so I can clean up and change before my shift. But I'll see you Wednesday night".
"It's a date" you replied.
Lee rounded the table and gave you a kiss as he headed to the front door. "Thanks for breakfast, sweetness. And for last night".
You smiled to yourself as he left, already wondering what you should wear for Wednesday night.
🌼
Wednesday came around quickly and you were even more excited about your date with Lee as your shift had been a nightmare. Demanding customers, burnt food courtesy of the cook you suspected had snuck a joint in his break, small tips and the cash register was inexplicably down $7.50 which of course you were blamed for. You needed a palate cleanse from this terrible day.
You had stayed late to lock up as your co-workers scattered. On Wednesdays the diner always closed early. Something to do with the old owner doing it years ago because of his church group meetings, and the current owner adopting that tradition just because. Classic small town routine and ritual. It was amazing how quiet everything was past 7pm – all the businesses closed up and there was no sign of any life except the bar on the edge of town. It was dark, eerie. But you checked your watch, still plenty of time to get home and get ready in time for Lee.
You got into your car ready to shoot off back to your house but the damn thing wouldn't start. Of course it wouldn't! The cherry on the shit sundae of today. You kept turning your key over and over trying to get it to run but no joy, it sounded like the engine had flooded as it stuttered and spat.
You groaned in frustration. Yours was the only car left in the lot, everyone else had gone home. You got out the car and had a look around to see if there were any cars nearby or locals who could help you out but there was nobody to be seen. It was as if the town had been evacuated suddenly without you noticing.
You realised your only course of action was to unlock the diner, go back inside and call Lee to tell him what had happened. You could kick yourself for your bad luck.
As you wrestled the diner keys back out of your purse and started on the locks, you noticed the sheen of headlights approaching. It was a police cruiser.
You gasped, was this Lee saving the day? What were the odds! Maybe he'd decided to pick you up from the diner instead. You flagged the cruiser down excitedly.
As the car drew a stop outside the diner you realised it wasn't Lee, but a much appreciated face all the same.
"Deputy Davey!" you exclaimed. Thank goodness. You felt the relief wash over you as you relaxed.
Davey rolled down the window and rested his elbow on the car door. "You okay here, ma'am?"
"Deputy, thank goodness" you told him breathlessly as you rushed towards him. "My car ain't starting and I need to get home. Any chance I could trouble you for a lift?"
Davey smiled wobbly at you. You couldn't put your finger on it but something seemed...off about him.
"Sure thing, little lady. Hop on in".
Was he...slurring?
Surely not. Not Davey. He was the most professional cop on the force. He had been there for you when Arthur died. He was married to Julie. Kind Julie who held your hand in the grocery store.
You grinned at him and slipped into the back of the cruiser, relieved that you wouldn't be late for Lee.
"Thanks for this, you've really saved me!" you told Davey as he set off.
Davey smiled crookedly, watching you in the mirror. "You're welc-hic-welcome" he stumbled.
"You got a case of the hiccups huh?" you laughed, slightly nervously. Something wasn't right here. You felt dread settling in.
"Fine. Allfine, don'tchoworry about me...honey".
You were right. He was slurring.
You managed to laugh breezily, trying not to show him that you were nervous.
"Uh...busy night tonight Davey?" you asked casually.
He grinned at you sloppily in the mirror reflection. "Mmmm. Just responded t'call out at the bar. Y'know how it is".
You nodded. "Did you uh...stop to have a drink there too?"
He laughed. "Just a coupla beers, honey. Nothin' t'worry 'bout".
It was clearly more than just a few beers. You could smell the whiskey permeating through the suffocating air of the car. You felt the dread settling in the pit of your stomach. But you were nearly home now. Just a teeny bit longer and you'd be home. And Lee would be there, and all would be alright.
Until he sped past the exit for your street.
"Uh...Davey. That was my turn off..." you exclaimed, the nerves starting to show.
Davey said nothing, keeping his eyes on the road.
"Davey?" you asked again.
Still no response.
"Look, if you let me out right here that's fine. I'll walk the rest of the way. Thanks again for the ride".
You rattled the passenger door handle, but of course you can't open police cars from the inside if you're in the backseat.
"Fuck" you muttered. You were now really scared. You could feel the hairs on your arms standing on end.
"I can think o'a few ways you can thank me for the ride" mumbled Davey.
You looked up to the mirror to find his eyes staring back at you. They looked dead, dark. Like the eyes of a shark.
"Just let me out the fucking car Davey and nobody has to know about this" you spat, trying to sound authoritative but coming off more pleading.
"I've seen the way you look at me" he garbled.
"What?" you spat.
"I've seen it. You're always smilin' at me. I know you want me..."
"You're drunk. You don't know what you're talking about. Just pull over, now". Your heart was beating painfully in your chest. Every sense felt heightened.
"Don't play hard to get" he mumbled.
"This is ridiculous, stop! What about Julie?" you shouted. Desperately trying the door again to no avail.
"What she don't know won't hurt her".
He pulled over abruptly onto a dirt road. Before you knew it he was climbing over the seats towards you, his eyes blazing with lust and anger. You began to scream, doing your best to fight him off. You managed to land a few blows but he overpowered you, flipping you over and tearing at your clothes, pummelling you.
You let your mind go blank, switching yourself off and closing your eyes. It was as if you left your body. You were no longer in the cruiser, you were home safe with Lee. Everything was okay.
Lee.
Your heart hurt as you thought about him, he was going to think you'd stood him up. That you didn't want to go on the date with him. But you did want to go. It's all you wanted.
But instead you had willingly stepped into the mouth of a wolf.
Arthur would probably say you had deserved this. How silly of you to act the way you had. Parading around town having sex with men you didn't know.
You're not sure exactly when Davey had finished but you eventually realised the car was moving again. He had returned to the front seat and was driving in silence. You slowly pulled your torn dress back over your head, wincing at the soreness which had enveloped your body.
He drove up to your front door and got out, stepping around to the back passenger side and opening it for you wordlessly. You slumped out into the cold air, refusing to look at him or acknowledge him as you sloped up to your house.
"One more thing, buttercup" Davey called out behind you. You didn't turn to face him, but stopped in your tracks. "Don't forget...nobody would believe you".
And you knew he was right.
#ee bodecker x reader#sheriff lee bodecker#lee bodecker#lee bodecker x you#lee bodecker x female reader#Awakened fic
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strangers : poolside | dave york



pairing: dave york x f!reader word count: 6622 content warnings: 18+ blog; ANGST, soft!Dave, established relationship, miscommunication (like a lot), mentions of alcohol and food, workaholic Dave, morning breath, Dave’s stupid phone, talks of marital woes, slight exhibitionism, breast/nipple/clit play, a random handsome stranger, jealous Dave, talk of having or wanting children, a kiss of fluff, implied/alluding to infidelity (there is none, reader just doesn’t know this), reader is mentioned wearing lingerie and a bathing suit- but zero description features, no age given but it’s implied she’s at least over 30, no y/n, established relationship, this is au- no Carol or kids, if I missed anything let me know. notes: ahh! I’m so nervous for this chapter!! But so excited for it also. I’m so glad I took my time with it so it could be exactly what it needed to be— which is kinda of a roller coaster of emotions. While the story is completely fictional, this has felt very cathartic to me because I dealt with a lot of similar thoughts/feelings as the reader. Anywho! Biggest thank you to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for literally holding my hand through this and helping me work through it. 💕 strangers masterlist | previous | next | inspo board | playlist
The soft glow of the television bathes the hotel room in a soft ambient flicker. Faint colors and scene changes adjust the room’s atmosphere. Actors silently exchanging words back and forth, expressions all the more dramatic with the muted volume. The movie you’ve been looking forward to seeing, long forgotten, playing out in silence across the screen.
As expected, the bed is better than anything you have ever slept in. Its plush mattress, divine and soft. Similar to what you assume it might be like to doze off among the clouds. It braces your bodies with ease through shifting positions as the evening extends into the early hours of the next day.
The intricate structure of lace and mesh material felt exquisite on your skin. Molding over your body like it was made for you and only you. The cups of the teasing bra cradling the weight of your breast, pushed up on display, enticing enough to bring a man to his knees— the plan at least. Taking your time, admiring yourself in the bathroom mirror once everything was in place. Your eyes roaming over your body, letting your hands follow suit. Imaging all the ways Dave would map over your skin in the same manner. The prospect for what was to come was thrilling. Desire blooming in your veins. Arousal warm and already pooling in the crotch of your panties. It was evident, your body filled with pent up lust, ready to be satiated by your husband.
You delicately dotted drops of perfume to your skin— base of your throat, behind your ears, inner wrists. The warmth from your pulse points amplifying the lush fig and sandalwood notes, blending with your natural pheromones instantaneously. Before rejoining Dave, you slipped a hotel robe over your body, concealing the lacey number with wild anticipation.
His hands, gentle where they met your body with a soft caressing motion. Not rushed or seeking more than they were ready for. Blazing heat emitted from him, scorching your skin with a fieriness you so desperately craved. They stilled. Lingered.
Dave. Your voice cautious, velvety sweet, calling out to him.
The sounds that fell from his lips were beyond anything you could have prepared for. A booming roar reverberated through him. Filling the room. Consuming you. As quickly as the rousing fuse had been lit, it had just as quickly fizzled out mid burn.
Dave’s snoring was like a shock to the system. The warm buzz of arousal dissolved into a cold emptiness as you lay in bed alongside Dave’s sleeping form. No amount of lace or lack thereof, seemed to be enough to seduce the sluggish man, already nodding off when you had come slinking out from the bathroom. Propped up on pillows, his eyelids growing heavy with each forced blink as stared blankly at the television. His dinner plate picked over and discarded onto the nightstand.
This scenario you knew all too well— and regularly. The build up, always so hopeful. The prospect of Dave having his way with you, pure exhilaration. Your body so desperate, in need of a release that didn’t hail from a hurried moment alone with a tiny vibrating wand before crawling into bed with Dave’s sleeping form.
Your brain refused to shut off as you lay staring up at the ceiling, willing away tears. You finally settled on the only thing that made sense at this early hour. He no longer desired you like he once did. No amount of time or vacations away could restore that connection. Then there was also that outcome that you dreaded the idea of entertaining— maybe it just wasn’t you he desired.
*
The whole evening had been on a constant loop. Replaying and taking precedence over your usual fictional fantasies that unfolded upon entering a heavy slumber. The hotel suite balcony offered a reprieve from the room, quietly sipping your coffee alone.
It was mid morning when you decided to crawl out of bed, in desperate need of something to numb the dullness that settled behind your eyes. Sleep did little to ease the tornado of thoughts that swept through your mind as the sun rose over the coast of California. Your brain had a funny way of tormenting you with fabricated information. On high alert the minute it sensed uncertainty, in search of answers to unasked questions.
As the coastal fog burned off, you were able to properly take in the view. A colony of gulls flew by, their collaborative squawking was every bit as annoying as it was captivating.
Fellow early risers strolled the sidewalks below, coffees and large water bottles in tow, all absorbed in their little private worlds. Couples hand in hand, in search of the perfect ocean view to start their day. A strange feeling of resentment had crept in. These strangers, carrying on with their lives, seemingly unaware of the jealousy you harbored for their happiness.
Your thoughts trail back to Dave and the evening again. It was only the first day and the optimism around this vacation was starting to wane.
“Shit— I must have really needed some fucking sleep.” Dave groans as he joins you on the balcony, his hands rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The sheet wrinkles embedded into the side of his face matched the similar ones on his cotton pajama pants and gray sleep shirt. His sleep etched voice is one of your favorite things to wake up to each morning. “I don’t even remember falling asleep at all.”
His body molds into yours, caging you in against the edge of the balcony. He’s warm and soft first thing in the morning. Like a moth to a flame, his lips find your skin. Tiny wet pecks from the base of your neck to your temple.
There was a point in time where things in your marriage felt very easy and Dave wasn’t always so invested in his work. You never felt like you were competing with files and phone calls for his undivided attention. The infatuation he held for you was palpable, leaving little room for doubt or worry.
When you met Dave there was an enigmatic quality about him. Neither of you were in a relationship or seeking out one, but also not completely opposed to the prospect of exploring one if something happened to fall into your laps. A chance meeting at a bar when his drink had literally fallen into your lap led to the rest of the evening spent tucked away in a dimly lit booth. The buzz of alcohol had you talking his ear off, and he allowed you to do so, consuming every little detail about you.
Dave shared minimal information about himself. Very on brand for his reserved but alluring demeanor. Aside from basic introductory facts, the only real thing you knew about him was his recent discharge from the military and his onboarding career in the CIA.
By the end of the night, you felt there was something intriguing about Dave, completely drawn to him. He was kind, generous and clearly the greatest listener. Ideally, he was someone you could see yourself with, wanting to know the ins and outs of who he was. So much so, you gave him your number. Scrawled across a beer soaked napkin, the ink bleeding out as each digit was carefully written out. He even said he’d call, leaving you with a kiss on your cheek before rejoining his buddies and calling it a night.
It was a week before you heard from him again, nearly giving up any hope he would be even remotely interested in you.
You learned that Dave’s walls were strong. Built of the strongest concrete. Resistant and impermeable to the elements. Over time his walls couldn’t withstand the depth at which you were willing to endure for him. Slowly crumbling and exposed. Finding that underneath the rubble was a man who was all in. A man who loved hard and never once made you question his loyalty to you.
“We can blame it on the jet lag.” You laugh softly into the coffee mug, taking another sip— definitely in need of more.
“Good morning, Honey.” He says, nudging his aquiline nose into your cheek, instinctively turning into him.
“Morning, Babe.” Dave turns you, the top of your robe slides off your shoulder— exposing the lace set you were still wearing.
“You’re still wearing it. Didn’t even get the chance to peel it off of you like I wanted to last night.” Pulling at the robe belt, the front falls open. Dave’s eyes widened, taking you all in, his irises now a deeper shade of his usual brown. “
“Yeah, well—“ You huffed, suppressing the impulse to acknowledge the hurt that was still ever-present.
“Fuck— Baby, I’m sorry. I'm two for two now. Let me make it up to you?”
Dave’s hands breach the inside of your robe. His hips flush to you— he’s hard, morning wood ready and eager. His deft fingers slide up the length of your spine, your skin covered in goosebumps once he reaches the clasp of the bra.
“Morning coffee breath— I’m gonna go brush my teeth.” Your head swerves his oncoming kiss, pulling the front of your robe closed again.
A hitch in your confidence. Curling in on yourself as you dislodge your body from where he has you pinned. That hot coiling response building in your lower abdomen, moments ago desperate for the way Dave wants you, now subsiding to a low simmer.
“You— um, have those calls you still need to make this morning?” You ask him, standing half way through the door, turning enough to catch the sunlight illuminating the bafflement on Dave’s face.
“Uh— Yeah. Still need to make those calls.” Dave’s dejected tone hits you like a bucket of ice. His head hanging and palms digging into his eyes.
“How long do you think it should take?”
“Few hours, give or take. Done by noon at the latest.”
“Okay. Maybe, if you’re up for it when you’re done— maybe we can go to the pool? Lounge a bit. Have some drinks. I got some new bathing suits, and have been dying to wear them. I think you might even like them.” An olive branch in the form of you served on a platter wearing minimal clothing. The likelihood of Dave accepting is rather favorable.
It’s unmistakable, devouring you— all conspicuous like and intense. Surveying every inch of your form leaning against the doorway.
Up the length of your smooth bare legs. The front of the robe flapping with the ocean breeze offering a peek of thigh and black lace. The fingers of your free hand toy with the collar, making it lay askew across your chest. A single breast exposed to cool morning air, nipple tight against the sheer material.
His gaze finally meets yours, shoulders lowering to their normal level. The slightest lift at the corner of his mouth, tip of his tongue gliding over his full bottom lip. Both of you landing on the same page, temptation reciprocated with blatant irresistibility.
“Yeah— Yeah, we can definitely do that.” He replied, his smile widening, the corner of his eyes crinkled— the Dave you fell in love with all those years ago in his truest form.
“Okay. I’ll order us some breakfast then. More coffee too. I drank the whole pot.” There’s a giddy feeling erupting inside of you. It seems like it’s been ages since you’ve seen Dave smile— genuinely smiling.
“Not surprised by that one bit. Hey—“ Capturing your attention before you’ve completely left the balcony. “I love you, you know that right?”
“Of course I do. I love you, too.”
Maybe it’s complacency that makes you feel like things within your marriage are stagnant, even borderline dull as of recently. The lack of regular intimacy, a normal thing all couples encounter at some point through their years together, not a telltale sign of extramarital meandering. Maybe that’s also not a bad thing. Just a season of life. A small hiccup in your otherwise normal and loving relationship.
*
As promised, it’s noon by the time Dave wraps up his final phone call and you’re both sitting atop the roof of the hotel. Basking in the sweltering rays of the California sun is exactly what was needed after being cooped up in the room all morning.
Breakfast in bed while Dave paced the length of the balcony. One phone call after the next, all varying in degrees of duration and intensity based on how animated Dave’s hand gestures and contorted expressions were. You had delivered his plate of eggs, sausage and toast during his first call, leaving it on the small table along with a fresh pot of coffee. He kissed you and mouthed a ‘thank you’ before sinking his teeth into the burnt buttered bread and continuing his meeting or whatever it was he was doing.
The minute he walked in announcing he was finished, your two piece suit was on and you were throwing Dave’s swim trunks at him from across the room. Tote bag containing pool lounging necessities— sunscreen, sunglasses, current book, wallet —was packed and waiting by the door. Your sheer excitement filled the room, a contagious feeling in the way Dave was mildly laughing at your frantic antics.
Either you both were the only ones staying at this hotel or no one else found joy in a gorgeous rooftop pool like you did. In the few hours spent lounging poolside, there was one, maybe two, other guests that also had an afternoon by the pool on their itinerary, too. There was a silent understanding among everyone that they stay in their respective spaces, evenly spaced out.
No one was complaining though. Fewer people meant less people lined up for cocktail refills at the bar. Fewer obnoxious conversations you didn’t have to drown out while focusing on the romance novel you were close to finishing. Zero avoidance of bodies in the water while Dave and you took a dip to cool off. Aside from visiting the pacific, this is how you intended to spend the rest of your days in California.
The moment you dive into your book, time and everything around you becomesa faint distraction from the fictional world you're absorbed in. The sheriff with his cowboy drawl and ridiculously handsome mustache, falls for the sweet baker. A reunion of past lovers, doing life together somewhere on the east coast in the small town they both reside in. A typical smitten cowboy vying for her love and attention at any chance he gets. There’s a permanent smile plastered across your face, dog-eared corners for future you to return to with the intention to relive the passages all over again. Page by page, you’re so engrossed with their whirlwind romance— you never want it to end.
The book consumes you longer than you planned for. So much so, you're unaware of the fact that Dave is no longer immersed in the LA Times he picked up in the hotel lobby earlier. The inked paper now folded neatly and discarded on the ground next to your tote.
Dave’s tortoise colored shades blocking out the sun and hiding the fact that he’s passed out. For how long, you’re not sure. Breathing is light and rhythmic. His usual thundering snore trades for small puffs of air from his parted lips. His bare golden chest, now a pale shade of red— shit!
Folding the current page of the book, tossing it to the end of your lounge chair, you sit up in search for more sunscreen for Dave, and yourself. Sifting through the contents of your tote, finding the bottle conveniently at the bottom. Hating the feeling of residual lotion getting between your jewelry, you remove your rings and toss them into a secured pocket inside the tote.
“Dave? Babe, wake up!” Gently nudging his bare shoulder to wake him.
“Hmmm—“ Dave grumbles a string of incoherent sleep laden words, lifting his head in your direction.
“Sorry. You passed out and I was so caught up in my book, I didn’t realize the umbrella shade wasn’t covering us anymore. You’re not completely burnt, but we’ve been here for a while. Sit up and let me put some more sunscreen on you.” You motion for him to sit forward, then squeeze a heaping amount of lotion in your hand, tossing the back into the tote.
Dave hissed, his back arching as you smooth the lotion over his warmed skin, allowing himself to ease into your touch after a few tensed moments. His head hangs below his shoulders as you continue to work the sunscreen over every inch of him that’s exposed to the blazing sun.
“Fuuuuck— that feels nice.” He groans when your touch switches to a different pressure. Adjusting your focus from protecting him from the harmful rays to pampering him, working out the built up tension he carries around daily.
Your fingers dig into the meat of his back as they glide up the length of his spine, pinching and squeezing over the rounded muscles of his shoulders. Thumbs pressing into the tender spot in his neck he’s been rubbing at for the better part of the last few weeks, craning his neck to the side. So relaxed you can barely make out his mumbled appreciation. “That fucking knot has been bothering me— Ouch! Fucking hell, woman!”
“Shh! So dramatic.” You laugh, easing up on the pressure. Your hands still lingering, smoothing over his broadness, taking advantage of the closeness.
“Oh, quit it. Those hands always were fucking magic, though. Already feels better when I move it.” Demonstrating how limber and loose it feels, rolling his head from side to side.
Were. His use of past tense doesn’t go unnoticed. It might have just been an unintentional slip, but its use isn’t lost on you in the slightest. It feels like it’s been ages, since you had explored each other— more than just a fleeting brush of hands. Reveling in an endless honeymoon phase, well beyond the traditional sense. You can only assume he had that same realization too, hence his choice in using were instead of are. But this moment feels too good to dwell on the logistics of proper past and present tense, so you push the thought aside.
“I’m sure if you play your cards right, there’s plenty more magic these hands can do later.” You playfully purred, not missing the way Dave’s eyebrows jut up from behind his sunglasses— that catches his attention.
You settle back into your lounge chair, sliding the straps of your bikini top down and off your arms, turning it into a makeshift strapless top as you prepare to cover yourself in a fresh layer of sunscreen.
“What are you doing?” Dave tilts his head forward, just enough so he can peer at you over his glasses.
“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m reapplying some on myself, too.” Running the oily lotion up your arms and shoulders.
“Here. Let me help you. Seems only fair.” His hand reaches out to you.
“It’s fine, Dave. I can manage.”
You’re not sure why you're shocked by his offer. Probably because you just assumed he would be diving back into reading up on worldly news. Top slimy politician was fighting for his life against rather damning accusations— the man is guilty, solely based on public opinion polls and your inherent duty as a woman to always believe the woman. Research shows more couples are putting their careers first, waiting to have children well into their thirties— that one does catch your eye, making a mental note to snag the article at some point. Sure, you can manage, but you also don’t want to. Not with him right here, so willing and capable.
“Don’t be stubborn, Baby. And don’t think I won’t drag that sweet ass of yours over here if I have to. Give me the bottle and sit down.”
It feels incredible. You have to remind yourself that you’re both in a public setting. This isn’t the time nor the place to let the salacious side of you self-indulge, but Dave’s hands are inducing the most carnal thoughts and it’s taking everything in you to not haul him back up to the room.
Dave had practically hauled you into the chair. Maneuvering you both into a comfortable sitting position, his legs spread and feet planted firmly on the ground and you practically sitting in his lap.
The task at hand is long forgotten, no longer a priority or even a relevant thought as you melted into him. His chest firm against your back, thighs caging and tight against your own.
It’s when his hands cup your breast that nearly sends you into another dimension, so brazen and menacing. A practiced musician, slowly plucking each string of his beloved instrument as the chords play the intro to his well rehearsed song. Rolling your peaked nipples between his fingers, the fabric of your top adding just the right amount of pinched pulsation. Your eyes fluttering shut as your head falls back onto his shoulder, stifling a moan as pleasure surges through you.
“I swear to god, Dave— fuck! Someone is going to catch us! ahh! Y-you need to s-stop before…”
“Hmmm. I don’t know, Baby— I think you want them to see. Want them to catch my hands all over you. Hear the sounds I’m able to pull from you. I could probably fuck you right here and no one would even care.” Dave murmurs into your ear. A husked sonorous tone that has you completely surrendering to him.
He seems to have this whole thing thoroughly thought out in a brief amount of time. Keen to his surroundings, already having scanned the entire area, aware of the people situated in cabanas on the far corner of the pool— paying no mind to either of you. His methodical nature takes hold, even as exposed as you are, he’d never put you in any situation he didn’t have complete confidence in.
“Dave—“ Your body writhes with each continuous change in motion, the way he’s oscillating between a dizzy tweak of your nipples and the sudden dart of his tongue grazing your ear lobe.
“You’d like that wouldn’t you. It’s been so long— fucking miss the way you feel, Baby.” Fuck. He’s not wrong.
You might have even mentioned you would be into it at some point. All vulnerable and the slightest possibility of being detected. It was more thrilling than you had expected it to be. You weren’t even ashamed how you were so absolutely turned on by your own boldness.
“Please—“
“I bet you’re fucking wet for me too. Hmm? Would take much— pull those skimpy little bottoms to the side, bet I’d slide right in.” God you were! Unquestionably so, and throbbing.
His hand traveled to where you’ve been craving him for so long, fingers brushing the top of your bathing suit bottoms.
“Christ! Don’t you d-dare put those lotion covered fingers anywhere near my— Fuuuuck!”
Dave wouldn’t dare, but that doesn’t mean he won’t work around it. His hand cupping your clothed mound, your eager hips rocking against the heel of his palm. His face smashes into your cheek when he feels how wet you are, your bottoms sticky with arousal and clinging to your pussy as he slides two fingers back up to your aching clit. Groaning as he takes your lobe between his teeth and gently bites down.
“Tsk tsk!” Clicking his tongue in a menacing manner. “Eyes open, Baby. Need you to keep watch, can’t have anyone seeing you while you fall apart.”
You’ve missed this side of him. Spontaneous sex was always something that was a regular occurrence in your early relationship even well into your marriage. You always looked forward to the days he’d come home without so much as a hello when he walked through the front door. His briefcase and coat were abandoned somewhere in the entryway— I missed you so much today. Need you right now —and then he was fucking you like a starved man against the wall in the hallway.
“Dave—“ Your lashes flutter, the sun unforgiving as you fight to keep your eyes focused on your surroundings. Your body so desperate for pleasure, so willing to succumb, just needing a little help to get there.
Each tender circle he draws over your clit has your brain muddled with bliss. A restrained whimper escapes, doing your best to concentrate as Dave continues to work you into a euphoric mess. But it’s so hard when your body has been yearning for this, all of this, for so long.
Your nails bite into his thighs as your lower abdomen begins to tighten.
“Baby, you’re gonna have to be quiet. Those gorgeous sounds are gonna get us in trouble.” Fuck! Almost there! So fucking close—
BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ
“Dave— is that…” The lounge vibrates, halting Dave’s movements. The orgasm that was just starting to barrel towards you, vanishing from your grasp.
“Shit! I, uh, think someone saw us—“ What?! No one is even paying attention!
Dave extricates himself from the chair, adjusting his sunglasses and his pronounced erection bulging under his swim trunks. He hastily grabs for some things as you sit perplexed by the sudden change in his demeanor. Your sexy audacious husband is gone before your eyes— leaving you with the tight lipped cryptic Dave, who you can’t seem to get a read on.
“What the fuck, Dave!” Watching as he slips on his sandals and throws his shirt over himself, playing no mind to a single button.
“Let’s finish this later— when we get back to the room, hmm? I’m gonna… go get us more drinks.” He says as he kisses the top of your head and heads in the direction of the bar. Hoping he brings back some shots, because you’re gonna need something strong to take the fucking edge off.
“Yeah— sure…” You say. Stunned and breathless.
*
You're not sure if you want to cry, scream or laugh as you crawl back into your chair. Maybe a mixture of all of them. What a sight that would be.
That brief glimpse of the fun adventurous Dave was intoxicating, even now your body is still buzzing and aroused. There’s a pang in your chest at how quickly he was able to mold back into the man you’ve needed for the past year, yearned to have back. Then instantly closed off and distant as if it never happened. Maybe the sun was getting to you, that whole moment some fucking hallucinated fantasy.
Rather than dwell on it, you push the hurt aside. You reach for your book and settle back into the chair. Finding where you left off and jumping back in with the handsome sheriff, who literally worships the ground that this woman walks on— must be nice.
“S’cuse me ma’am. Sorry to bother you, but is this seat taken?” A deep voice breaks your concentration, realizing he’s in fact asking you if the unoccupied seat next to you is available.
A man in his mid forties, maybe early fifties is standing at the foot of the chair next to you. Your sunglasses hide the fact that you're giving him a once over, noting every detail about this random stranger who’s decided of all the empty seats, he wants the one next to you.
His hair is slightly disheveled in a deliberate manner. Peppered streaks of gray throughout his curly locks. He’s wearing green and red plaid swim shorts and a worn dark blue t-shirt, kind of an odd pairing but it seems to work for him. You notice a dimple hidden beneath the gray scruff that almost hides his angular features. He seems harmless and rather handsome— plus, it would be rude to turn him away with no explanation.
“Nope. Feel free to use it.” You smile at him kindly and go in search of the words you had just read.
“Thanks so much.” He says as he removes his shirt and settles down on the lounge chair.
“Of course. It’s no problem at all.” You tell him.
You don’t even dare to look in his direction. You imagine this is what Eve felt like, tempted and allured by carnality in the form of an apple. Except your carnal desire is a fizzling orgasm your husband couldn’t even be bothered to deliver, now reawakening at the sight of this beautiful man.
You would never act on anything, even as beautiful as he was, you were married and you love Dave— but that didn’t mean you couldn't admire, sunglasses masking your lingering eyes.
“I’m Joel by the way. Joel Miller.” His hand outstretched to you, that damn dimple even more pronounced when he smiles.
“I take it you’re not from around these parts are you now, Joel.” You give him your name and return the handshake— his grip is rather firm, but friendly.
“What gave it away?” He laughs. There’s a hint of southern drawl woven into his rich voice.
“Well, you don’t seem like the California boy type for starters. Not that that’s a bad thing— I just get the impression you’re far from home.” You fold another page and drop your book into your bag, your attempt at reading sidelined again.
“You’d be correct then. Texas— born ‘n raised. Since we’re makin’ impressions, I’m gonna guess you’re not from ‘round here either?” He looks over to you, his arms crossed over his tanned chest. The breeze catching a few of his curls, tossing them about.
“You would also be correct. So what brings you all the way west, cowboy?”
“My daughter, actually. She’s gettin’ married this week. Fiancé’s family is out here and they’ve got connections and what not, so they’re able to do it here at the hotel. They put me up in one of the suites, bein’ I am the father of the bride an’ all.”
“Oh! Congratulations then. I’m sure you’re so excited then.”
“Yea’. Crazy seein’ her all grown up an’ goin’ off on her own. Still got one more though. She’s turning 16– little wild thing she is. Keeps me on my toes, but I love her for it.”
You get the sense that being a father is one of his favorite things. He hasn’t stopped smiling since he started talking about his kids.
“You and your wife must be so proud.”
“Nah, no wife— or girlfriend. Jus’ me and my girls. So, now that I’ve bothered you with my life story. What brings you out this way to California?”
What am I even doing in California? You think to yourself. It’s then you catch sight of your husband at the bar. Dave is already looking in your direction, leaning against the wood counter, waving at you with his phone glued to his ear.
“See that guy over at the bar? The one talking on the phone.” You wave back at Dave. You pick up on the shift in his demeanor from where you're sitting. His jaw clenched and brows furrowed enough you can make out the deep lines across his forehead. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was shooting daggers at Joel— but you do know better, and that’s exactly what’s happening. “That’s my husband. We’re supposed to be here relaxing— not working. But he’s over there taking a phone call, when he was going to grab us more drinks and I’m here relaxing. Maybe one day he’ll actually show some interest in me again— until then it’s just work work work. Geez— I’m sorry to dump all of that personal shit on you. Like you even care about a stranger's marital problems.”
“No need to apologize— I get it. My ex and me had our own issues. Tried to work through them, for the sake of the kids n’ all.” He says, waving off your apology.
“I’m guessing it didn’t go so well?” You look out over the pool, catching a few gulls passing over. You can already sense his heavy answer before he even gives it to you.
“Well, she’s my ex for a reason. But it’s for the best. And not saying that’s what’s gonna happen for you. We love our kids and do this whole co-parentin’ thing better than when we were married. Umm— y'all got any kids?”
“Uhh— no, no kids. Yet… I think? I mean, we both talked about once our careers were established we would start trying. And we did try for a bit, but never got pregnant, which we were okay with— figured it would happen when it happens. But now, I’m not really sure if it’s what he wants anymore.” You pick at the polish on your nails.
You realize it’s been awhile since you and Dave readdressed the conversation about having kids. It’s always been idling in the back of your mind. Becoming a mother was something you would love to do. With Dave never really ever being present or interested in any sort of in-depth conversation, you haven’t really discussed where you both stand now on the topic.
“Have you asked him?”
“No. I haven’t. I probably sh—“
You’re cut off when Dave reappears, holding nothing but his phone and wallet.
“Hey, Sweetheart!” There’s a hint of irritation in his voice, his tone a slightly higher pitch than usual, though he tries to hide it as he bends to kiss the top of your head.
“Babe, this is Joel. He’s here for his oldest daughter’s wedding. Joel, this is my husband Dave. Where’s our drinks?” Attempting to ease the weird tension he brought back with him instead of your drinks. .
Dave’s glaring at Joel. His lips pressed in a tight line and his nostrils flared. Irritated? No, it’s jealousy. He’s jealous and it’s oozing from him. Dave was jealous at the attention, all innocent and friendly, that you were receiving from another man.
“Uh, nice to meet you.” Dave reaches over you, taking Joel’s hand in his. He’s friendly enough, even though his smile looks rather forced. “We hate to run out on you like this, Joel— we’ve got dinner reservations later on and the sun is starting to get to me. You don’t mind if we head to the room early, Babe.”
“Yeah, of course, Baby. Let’s go— you probably need more water and some rest before dinner.” You get up from the chair to pull your cover up dress on and begin to gather everything between yours and Joel’s chair, throwing it haphazardly back into your bag. “It was so nice meeting you, Joel. Hope your daughter has a beautiful day and you have a great time.”
“Thank you. Now you two get outta here and enjoy your evening. My brother is wanderin’ around somewhere. I’m sure he’ll end up here at some point. Nice meetin’ y'all.” Joel says, giving a cordial nod and a two finger wave.
You call out to Dave when you realize he’s already halfway to the exit, hoping he’ll snap out of whatever this thing is he’s doing. Knowing it’s more than just the sun that’s bothering him.
“Dave, what’s going on? Are you okay?” You ask, stepping into the elevator with him.
“I’m good. Got a bit of a headache. Probably just too much sun.” His thumb smashes into the floor number. The elevator doors slowly obstructing the rooftop view.
*
The walk back to the room felt like it was never ending. The slap on your sandals against the carpeted floor and exchanged hello’s with the sweet old lady dragging far more bars than she could handle were the only sounds echoing through the long hallway.
Dave’s body, all broad and inflexible, blocked the room door as he searched for the key card in his wallet.
“Dave? Are you going to talk to me and tell me what’s actually going on?” You ask softly.
The door beeps and Dave pushes it open. He seems to not have lost all his senses because he holds it open for you.
“Dave, will you at least look at me— please?” You toss everything you’re carrying onto the bed, watching him walk over to the floor to the large windows.
Even from behind, you know he’s wearing his sharp scowl. Proven by the way his hip is cocked out and on hand resting on his waist, head hanging with his attention on the floor. Too embarrassed to acknowledge he might have overreacted up at the pool.
“Dave, were you jealous?.” You ask, your voice velvety and sweet. Taking a few tempered steps, you close the distance between you and where he’s standing, needing him to know everything was okay. You smooth over his solid back, all brooding with his shoulder blades tightly drawn together. One hand sliding around to his chest and the other reaching for the hand hanging at his side, intertwining your fingers with his, your grip tightening around him. “Baby— you were, weren't you? It’s okay if you were, you know. It’s obviously a natural reaction to have. I know I’d react the same way if it were you and some gorgeous woman. But baby, you know I only have eyes for you and only you— always. I love you, Dave.”
“I love you and I’m sorry.” Dave sighs, his hand squeezing back. I overreacted and shouldn’t have— it's implied without him actually voicing it, but you know he means it.
“Did you still want to go out for dinner? If you’re not feeling up to it, we can just order in again so you can rest.” You ask him, resting your nose and lips against his sun warmed skin, breathing him in.
His aroma is pungent, but familiarly pleasant. A subtle note of coconut blends with his trademark spicy musk and sweat. It reminds you of the summer while you were dating, Dave whisked you away to Rehoboth Beach on the coast of Delaware. Renting out a beach house on the water where you spent every morning watching the sun flee the horizon from the front porch. Evenings spent walking near the water’s edge, recounting your favorite parts of the day and dreaming of a future together.
“Yeah, we can still go out. I just— I need a minute. Gonna get some fresh air.” He says, turning his head to tell you over his shoulder.
“Okay. I’m going to take a quick shower then.” You kiss the nape of his neck before you leave, grabbing the robe off the accent chair as you head to the bathroom.
At the flick of the switch, a soft glow of light cascades from the decorative wall sconces. Everything becomes very automatic as you move through the room, placing the robe over the sink, ridding yourself of your pool attire, thrown into a growing pile in the corner of the room. Intent on unwinding, trusting the spray of hot water will alleviate the weight of today’s tension before going out with your husband, until you hear Dave’s voice fading as he walks out into the balcony, muffled by the distant waves and passing cars.
“Hey, Ashley. It’s Dave, sorry about earlier…”
Ashley. It’s light and beautiful, and yet feels like the most threatening thing to have ever pierce through your heart. All your emotions flowing, congealing as one giant mass within your ribcage. Its numbness best describes the way you feel, hollowing out the pain in your chest. It's too much to deal with or even believe. You shut the door, avoidance being one of your worst traits— but if you don’t confront it, it doesn’t exist.
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#Dave york#dave york x reader#dave york x you#dave york x f!reader#pedro pascal#wildemaven writes#pedrostories
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Can a troubled Victoria’s Secret successfully write its next chapter? It’s certainly pulling out all the stops
The message on Tuesday night in Brooklyn was simple: after a six-year hiatus, the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show is back, and the lingerie brand’s future is being shaped by women.
The presence of the female gaze was felt throughout the evening with a production that featured an all-women musical lineup.
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Lindsay Mind Controlled 3*
Originally published May 6, 2015
Some could fight the control of Obedience by Victoria, much like the reporter Santiago Cruz who had struggled against the fabric's mind-numbing effects longer than most could, but inevitably they would all succumb. Lindsay Ellingson was no Santiago Cruz. She had been dominated, her mind totally obliterated by the pulse of the hypnotic lingerie. Candice had betrayed Victoria's Secret when she took her story to Santiago. It wasn't enough to reeducate her, she had to be taught a lesson, and that was why she was serving as Ed's personal pet. With Candice taken out of the picture, Victoria's Secret needed their other models to step up. Models like Erin Heatherton, an early target because of a perceived strong will, her enslavement was a testament to the lingerie's power over people. Next Erin recruited Lindsay, and Obedience spread like wildfire among the Victoria's Secret models.
On the night of the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show, the first to feature the Obedience line, Lindsay sat in her chair while makeup and hair did their work. While normally she would make conversation with the crew, there was a strict professionalism in the air while everyone performed their tasks as commanded. Quielty under her breath, Lindsay uttered the mantra that had been conditioned into her mind many months earlier when she had first submitted. "I am a drone. I exist to serve a function. My function is pleasure. I will receive pleasure by serving Victoria's Secret." With every round of the mantra, Lindsay would cum a little. She was such a pro you would never even know.
*previous chapters of Fleur-de-lis were simply called "Lindsay Mind Controlled" and "Lindsay Mind Controlled 2." The standardization of story titles occurred later during a rewrite of Fleur-de-lis in the summer of 2017.
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Life Within the Soul Sneak Peak
Below is a sneak peak of the intro to a book that is in the works for my Ao3, Life Within the Soul. Though it sounds like a straight-line fanfic I can assure you it is not, in it I will be posting an array of one-shots, scenarios, smuts and more all taking place in a special world. This is effectively my universal fix-it fic collection for every character I'm grieving for and show I miss; it will include reader inserts and Oc stuff and a wide array of characters and their new lives in this seemingly modern world where they finally have the options and support, they need to heal. I plan to keep most characters relatively in character, some will be slightly toned down depending on what I'm writing. This is only a small part of the intro; the whole intro was too long to post here and the parts that primarily describe the world at large are in the first 2 paragraphs. This is where we meet the goddess, my Author persona so to speak, who is in the process of preparing for her next "rescue mission". Check it out, it will feature an array of characters, so there may even be crossover action, don't be surprised to learn that Sukuna from Jujutsu Kaisen is gym buddies with Shiva from Record of Ragnarök lol. There are no real set-in stone stories, so one day Gojo might be the owner of a lingerie empire and married to a cat girl kemonomimi that was a background character from some long-forgotten phone game and the next day he is in a polyamorous relationship with Geto and a femboy stoner and Gojo is a house husband while Geto owns a popular club in the red-light district. So yeah, if you're interested in that kinda chaos check out my Ao3 and keep an eye out for the book drop. Each chapter will have warnings as needed, so remember to look at the notes and description so you can tell what's instore. There will be adult content overall, so if you're super worried about accidentally reading something you aren't into just skip it.
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"I wonder who will arrive next…It hurts my heart to see the children of creativity pass… but I can't wait to see them." A woman with long pastel pink hair sat at a work bench, in her hands was a piece of silky snow-white clay. Laying on a metal sheet that sat nearby was a series of featureless white dolls, they were small but would soon grow and adjust to the size of the host that would soon bring them to life. In the kiln nearby another tray slowly baked, preparing a fresh batch of blessed soul shells. The tv on the wall that the work bench was pressed to was turned on, on it she watched the life of yet another person that was born in a created universe. She felt bad for them, they were living creatures though the ones that created them call them characters and treat them as if they are not real. Of course this wasn't the creators fault, after all in their world these people AREN'T real. They are people made from the imagination, given life on paper and screeen. How were they supposed to know about the alternative diminsions much less understand the true reality of the diminsion they live in. How were they supposed to know that each world that made, actually made a world? How were they supposed to know they were the gods of these people's world. That each life of suffering was inflicted on someone that truly lived within another diminsion, every choice sealing each person's fate without the so called "characters" even realizing they never had a choice to start with and it was all done for the entertainment of others and advancement of plot. That nothing was ever in their control. It was a fact that hurt the goddess, she was familiar with the soul birth process as she spent some time making the souls that would be born within the various created universes. It was one of the first things she learned when she ascended, each god of creation having to learn the step-by-step process that was the creation of life, realms and all that lies within. Of course she long since finished her training, and so she has been left to use her powers as she sees fit. It was the pain she felt while making these souls, knowing the truth of their existence, that drove her to create the techniques that allowed her to expand the depths of her soul and build a world within herself, a place that would remain untouched so long as she drew breath. And for her to provide bodies for all those she sought to save, so many souls cast into darkness because the media source that created their life and story had ended. Thus ending their story, the closest thing to rebirth being the creation of an entirely different version of them within a series of pocket universes formed by fans that live within the creator universe at that point. She was proud of some of them, their so called "fix it" fics doing a lot to soothe her sadness while she works on getting vessels prepared for the line of dead and work her way to the media source's "named characters" to whom she had grown especially attached. Though she'd never admit it out loud, there were some people she favored because she had bore witness to their lives and to the media that determined their fate from start to finish. "Don't worry little ones…Mama will rescue you from the darkness, I promise." Mint green eyes looked up the screen, fingers moving on muscle memory as she worked harder to finish the next few batches so that she can get started on the reincarnation process. "I can't wait to meet you all…"
#candy cult vault#fluff#sneak peak of my new ao3 book#Will be rated mature on Ao3 as this will include everything from fluff to smut to scenarios#this is the world in which my fix it fics will take place in so I don't have to worry about plot and explanation for why they do things#this will be for an array of characters and shows#be ready for the occasional crossover#this is gonna get chaotic lmao#I'll notify when I post the intro and first few parts#really needin some Gojo
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Womanizer~ 05
A/n; lemme know if you have feedback! It’s always welcome! So are Requests!
Plot; Everyone who knew who Tom Kaulitz was knew that he was girl crazy, he's very well known for having girls around him all the time.
Pairing; Tom Kaulitz x fem reader.
Previous chapter -> next chapter.
Master list
Taglist<3
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"My body on your body, baby sticking like some glue."
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Is this shit even legal? Was this in my contract? Can I get this nut job of a woman sued for sexual harassment?
"I'm not doing this." I said as I was pacing around in my make up room, Adam who said on the couch was looking at me. Following my every move.
"I can't possibly have to do this." Adam sighed and stood up, he walked over to me and grabbed my upper arms to hold me in place.
His muscular hand grabbed a hold off of my chin and made me look at him, my heart started to race as I saw the serious expression on his face.
"This is just a one time thing," he said as he gently rubbed the skin on my face, I couldn't help but close my eyes as I instantly felt myself calm down.
"If you feel uncomfortable at any point tell him, he's experienced in this so I'm sure he has some decency to stop when told." He said with a hint of disgust in his tone. I slowly opened my eyes and smiled softly at the boy.
"Thank you." I whispered, his eyes fluttered over to my lips for a second making my mind race with thoughts.
Quickly before he could do what I think he was gonna do I pushed him off of me and cleared my throat.
"I-I should go." I stuttered before quickly grabbing the door knob and speed walking to the studio where we were filming leaving the confused and probably hurt boy behind.
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"What are you waiting for darling?" The woman asked as she gave me a tiny shove, they had me changed into a long silk robe and some overly sexual lingerie.
Tom on the other hand was wearing a pair of red boxers.
The director had the decency to make the rest of the band and most of the crew members leave so we could have some privacy.
I took a deep breath and walked over to Tom, "Action!" The director yelled making me jump slightly.
Tom gently grabbed my hands and pulled me closer, he leaned closer to my ear. His breath softly hit the side of my ear as his voice softly spoke: "Just trust me ok?" I found myself nod at him without a single thought.
He slowly grabbed a hold off of my chin and make me look in his eyes, they looked so... admiring?
"I'm scared." I whispered, he softly smiled at me and rubbed my cheek a bit. "I'm here, nothing will happen that you don't want." He whispered back. His words and the softness of his voice made my heart flutter. I nodded, trusting him weirdly enough.
His warm breath hit my lips as he leaned in closer and soon, his lips perfectly fit into mine.
Boy was he a good fucking kisser.
His hands left my face and moved over to my shoulder to remove the silk from my body revealing my body. He slowly pulled away from the kiss, sitting down on the bed behind him.
His eyes followed the way my body curved and couldn't help but let a smirk take over his features. I covered my face in embarrassment as he took a hold off of the flesh on my hips.
He gently tucked me closer to him making him go eye to eye with my stomach.
He pulled away my hands and leaned closer to my stomach, his lips gently pecked the skin of my stomach and looked up at me.
A heat spread to my body, holy shit. Instinctively my hands found the back of his head as ran my fingers through his dread locks.
"Fuck." He mumbled under his breath before pulled me into his lap, his arms immediately wrapped themself around my waist keeping me steady on his lap.
This time I took the opportunity to kiss him, I wrapped my arms around his neck and tucked him closer to me, smacking my lips against his.
He hummed against my lips before kissing me back. "Pull her down with you." We heard the director speak, for a moment I had forgotten that she was even there as I felt Tom pull me onto the bed, making me lay on top of him.
His lips danced against mine, the heat from his body made a drowsy as I felt more comfortable then I thought I would.
His lips left mine as he started to kiss my neck, smacking my ass making me gasp. He smirked against my neck attacking the flesh that was getting bruised under his touch.
My eyes fluttered shut as he kept exploring my neck, what am I doing? Luckily before it could've gotten any hotter the director yelled "cut" making me jump up from the boy. The obvious tent caught me off guard as I quickly threw on my robe, hiding my body again.
Tom on the other hand was amused and acting as cocky as ever. "That was what we needed! Thank you Tom!" Tom nodded and smirked.
"It was my pleasure."
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To say that the music video of the one with Tom and I went viral would've been an understatement, fans ate that shit up.
The teasing of my band members were getting out of hand to the point where Adam would storm out without saying anything and then not coming back to our shared room for the night.
But the most annoying part? I couldn't stop thinking about how good he felt against me, his hands on me felt like fire and his lips that fit so well in mine.
I hated it.
I hated myself for liking it so much.
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Taglist; @oh-kurva @ajaxisbae
#cute imagines#x reader#imagines#tom kaulitz#tom kaulitz x reader#bill kaulitz x reader#bill kaulitz#tokio hotel x reader#tokio hotel#womanizer
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The Proposal
Warnings: none? Lingerie is mentioned?
Shanks x GNreader
Word count: 1184
Chapter 1
You and Shanks have been dating forever, like since you were apprentices on Rogers' ship forever. In the decade-plus that you have been together, you've been patiently waiting for him to make the next move. But now you were starting to get impatient with him because you felt that your relationship has not progressed to the next stage. Granted you had no right to be annoyed with him since you didn't voice your feelings on the matter to him. Shanks always said he would want to get married one day and have a spouse, you just didn't understand what was taking him so long.
"You're glowering at the boss," Benn grumbled, leaning back in his chair as his grey eyes scrutinized your features. You bit your lip and weighed your option, ask Benn for advice and the possibility of the whole finding out, or talk to Shanks first.
"I need some advice, and you're Shanks's best friend, maybe you might have some insight." You mumble.
Benn took a drag off his cigarette and huffed, "Really? I thought you're his best friend, and I'm the one who's been third wheeling you two since you were teenagers."
"You're both of our best friends I guess, but you know how Shanks wants to one day get married?"
Benn's eyes got wide for a moment, and he darted to Shanks, as he replied, "vaguely recall him saying that when he was drunk a number of years ago. Why do you ask?"
"I'm just wondering why he hasn't proposed yet."
Benn rolled his eyes, sensing your insecurity, and groaned, "if you're really so impatient why don't you propose to him?" His words shocked you, why hadn't you thought of that? You've always been the one to initiate new things in your relationship. From asking him out when you were eleven, to asking if you can move into the same room when you were nineteen. It was always you making the first move, so why wouldn't marriage be any different?
When he realized you were actually considering it, you'd already thanked him for his insight, and gotten up to return to your room. Hongou came over and sat down in your chair, drunk as a skunk and grinning like an idiot. As he takes a swig from a bottle of rum, he asks, "what's got you so slack-jawed?"
Benn put out his cigarette and got up, "I need to start planning a wedding, and...fuck I'm gonna need to get a camera."
A week later, despite the constant pestering from the crew's helmsmen, you finally settled on how and where you would propose. You planned to buy the ring on the next island and propose on the island after that, the Fern Kingdom. Which was famous for its brilliant foliage, deep fjords, crisp air, and copious waterfalls. But there was still one problem, you didn't know Shanks' ring size. When you expressed your issue with Benn, he pointed out all you had to do was to wait for him to fall asleep to get it.
"But he's such a light sleeper," you grumbled.
Benn leaned over the back of his chair, twisting to face you as you were curled up on the sofa in his office, he said, "what are you talking about? He sleeps like a log. I've literally dropped him down a flight of stairs carrying him back to your room after a party, and he didn't wake up."
"He only sleeps like that when he's drunk, which I suppose is often enough I shouldn't have a problem."
"Does he usually go to sleep with you sober? " Benn asked, "Because all the times we've shared sleeping quarters, he's always insisted he needs a nightcap to sleep."
"He sleeps best cuddled up to someone, but any way will you help me get the ring size if you encounter him passed out before I do." You inquired, putting the ring-sizing tape on his desk. Benn nodded his head and tossed it in his cigarette box, and huffed, "If we need to we can always take him drinking before going ring shopping."
"You want to come with me to pick out the ring?"
Benn's sharp eyes flicked up t you as his expression soured, "of course, I'm coming with you to pick it out. There is no way in hell I'm letting you go without me. I've been with you two through most of the big steps in your relationship."
"You mean you were around when we were going through most of the big steps."
"No I mean I was with you, Shanks always had me follow along on your dates."
You blinked at him incredulously, "you really have been third-wheeling us."
Benn nodded, "yer damn right I have. I had to pep talk Shanks before you two boned the first time. I deserve to have input on y'alls wedding and engagement rings."
You held up your hands in surrender, and Benn tucked his cigarette box back into his pants pocket.
That night Benn kicked in the door to your bedroom, short of breath when he panted, "Shanks has passed out, but he's surrounded by the crew and I can't check his ring size without raising any questions. We'll have to do this as a team to get it." When you nodded your head and grabbed the sizer, Benn said, "Alright, I'll distract the crew while you get the ring size."
"Please one look at me, and they'll be too distracted by me to watch you get his size," You stated, opening your robe to show the lingerie and nightie underneath.
Benn clicked his tongue, "that'll work,” and followed after you as you glided down the hall.
The crew had gathered in the lounge area, bottles littered across almost every flat horizontal surface in the room that wasn’t the floor. Yassop, Lucky Roo, Hongou, and Lime Juice were gathered around Shanks passing a few markers back and forth drawing on their unconscious captain’s face. You put your hands on your hips and started to gently scold them like they were children. “Boys, what are you doing? That’s not nice. Benn would you carry him to our room?”
Benn snapped his fingers and muttered, “good idea.”
The group looked over their shoulders to see you playfully glaring at them, only vaguely registering Benn as he circled around. Yassop whistled, “god-damn, what’d Shanks do to earn this?”
You chuckled, “can’t I dress cute for myself?” Despite looking at the group as they abandoned their markers and drifted toward you, you were watching Benn sneak around and scoop up the redhead.
Once Benn had him out of the room you excused yourself and went to your room. Where you found Benn had haphazardly thrown Shanks half on and half off the bed and was fitting the sizer around his ring finger.
“He’s a size 10,” he announced, glancing over at you expectantly. When you stared at him, he rolled his eyes, “well write it down, 'cause neither of us will remember, and we’ll have to get him drunk again, which’ll cost a fortune.”
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#one piece#one piece x reader#one piece scenarios#shanks x reader#red hair shanks#akagami no shanks#benn beckman#benn beckman x reader#from the depths of the dragon's hoard#tma original#2/10/23
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what kind
of polaroids
does preacher!rhett have of you 🤔

→ a/n: headcanons for the ‘ptolemaea. | the verses.’ universe. thank you both so much for this incredible question! let’s go! i hope you enjoy the below! <3
→ c/w: heavy religious themes and preacher!rhett abbott.
The Polaroids Preacher Rhett has of you are slimmer in number compared to ‘regular’ Rhett’s Polaroids that I mentioned here. First and foremost, the money he stole from the Church has to get you both by and he can’t be spending it on film all the time.
Secondly, you’re a run away and he knows there are people out there looking for you. The less he has, the less incriminating evidence he has against him.
However, as dear anon wonderfully suggests, I think those Polaroids are definitely in his small collection. He was only able to take two back in your home town.
The first was on a lonesome Tuesday. Unknown to you at the time, but it was a week or so before you had to leave town. You came to visit Rhett at his Church under the excuse for more “guidance” and you both had some spare time to yourselves.
You both wandered aimlessly through the small field of wildflowers out the back of the Church, sharing a cigarette and exchanging small conversation. Rhett had just come back from visiting a family a town over and in his bag he had his Polaroid camera.
When he asked if he could take a photo of you, your heart stopped and your cheeks got warm. It was the first picture he had of you. In your sundress, in the wildflowers and behind the Church.
Later on that afternoon and an hour before an evening service, you ended up sprawled over his desk in his back office. Your thighs were turning a dark purple, with hickeys and creamy splatters of his cum coating them. He took another Polaroid then.
You weren’t aware how crumpled they were now, after Rhett had clutched them tightly at night as he fisted his thick cock.
Once you left town and headed on your journey out West, a handful more Polaroids came to life.
You came into possession of a three piece lingerie set. It was simple. White and cream in colour, with intricate lace detailing where it was needed.
Rhett got a Polaroid of you with one knee bent on the Motel bed and your other leg stretched out. It showcased the perfect swell of your ass and how the garter belt hugged at the thigh high stockings clipped to it.
(If you spot the Mother Cain reference, you’d be correct!)
Another Polaroid Rhett had of you was you on your knees. You’re completely naked, all expect for the thin chain of a cross necklace sitting perfectly between the valley of your breasts. This was Rhett’s necklace he got you to wore to claim you as his.
Your lips and eyes are puffy, and Rhett’s cum is coating your cheeks, eyelashes, lips and chin, and the top of your breasts. Your mouth is wrapped around his thumb and sucking on it tenderly, a glazed over look in your eyes.
Rhett thinks that might be his favorite Polaroid.
The last Polaroid Rhett has of you is with your face down in the mattress, back arched and ass up. Again, you are completely naked to him. What can be seen is your swollen cunt sitting between your thighs and his spend leaking out of you.
On the tender flesh of your ass, there is a cross shaped welt starting to rise. With the flash of the Polariod, it catches the shine of Rhett’s cum in your cunt and the bruising starting to appear.
(Spanking with a cross features in the next chapter!)
There are five Polaroids in total and they all fit snuggly in Rhett’s top pocket, or on the inside of his Stetson hat.
#💌you’ve got mail#rhett abbott#preacher!rhett abbott#rhett abbott x y/n#rhett abbott x you#rhett abbott x reader#rhett abbott series#rhett abbott smut#rhett abbott drabble#rhett abbott imagine#rhett abbott headcanons#rhett abbott fic#rhett abbott fanfiction#lewis pullman#lewis pullman x reader#outer range#outer range x reader#outer range x you#outer range fanfic#outer range imagine#outer range smut#outer range amazon#rhett abbott fluff#rhett abbott angst#sunblchdfly <33#sebs masterlist
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