#this will not turn into smut but it will get a little heated

[agreeeeeeeeeee]

Magic Lessons p.2 | B.W.

feat. Bill Weasley x intern!reader

SUMMARY: Things escalate with your boss, Bill Weasley, at the twins birthday party when you plot to make him jealous. But he gets his revenge back at the office.

CW: MDNI 18+, smut, jealous!Bill, reader gets a lil toxic, oral (f receiving), age gap, bill is a pleasure dom I don't make the rules, mentions of alcohol and smoking, strong language

>Part One

Things shifted between you and Bill after that night. You were more than just coworkers, mentor and apprentice, you developed a mutual understanding.

And what started as a little crush has grown into a beast with teeth, eating you alive, consuming every spare moment of your life. You had never felt so connected to someone before, so attuned to their feelings and desires, like your souls were tied together.

You couldn't be sure how he felt about you, but he seemed to read your mind as well as you did his. He somehow could anticipate your needs, no matter how trivial, and would go well out of his way to ensure those needs were met.

He was also fiercely protective, a trait of his that claimed several more victims than Waylan as the weeks progressed. But for you, Bill seemed to have a never ending well of patience. You couldn't ignore the amount of times you caught his gaze lingering on you, or the frequency he went out of his way to touch you, to help you, to serve you.

But you just couldn't believe that Bill Weasley would be even remotely interested in someone like you. Not to mention, the professional boundaries of your relationship were still intact.

It had been three months since the incident with the cursed axe, and it was the twins birthday. You hadn't spoken about the fact that you would both be attending the same party outside of work, but the thought made your nerves tingle with adrenaline.

You and Bill had only seen each other at work or during work-related functions. But this, attending a family party, felt like uncharted territory.

Would he be willing to cross the lines of professionalism? You weren't sure. Would you be willing to risk a career at Gringotts? Again, you weren't sure. But every day, it became harder and harder to ignore the burgeoning heat between you, that soul tie winding tighter and tighter.

You were at a standstill, paralyzed by indecision, and it was driving you mad.

The two of you were the last in the office, and you slipped away to get ready in the bathroom while he finished things up. You changed into your outfit, a maxi dress in your favorite color with a pair of heeled boots, and refreshed your makeup.

You did a small turn in the mirror, a wave of insecurity making you doubt your selection. Was it too tight for a birthday party? Too formal? Not formal enough?

Well, it was the only one you brought, so it would have to do. You collected your things a returned to Bill's office.

When you pushed open the door, you found him mid-change, wearing a white sleeveless undershirt and fastening a black belt around his waist, his shirt folded neatly on the desk.

You knew he was strong from years of hard travel, but this. He was lean and toned, broad shoulders with a narrow waist, and even littered with scars from Fenrir’s attack, he was gorgeous.

“Oh! Bill, sorry. I didn't—” You managed to tear your gaze from his body up to his face, finding his eyes glued to you, jaw a little slack, and the apology died in your throat.

He lowered his hands to his sides, belt still undone. The simmering heat between you bloomed to an inferno at your open perusal of one another, and you found yourself taking a step towards him, brainless as a moth.

His hands flexed, then balled into fists, and you paused, a flicker of reality passing through the haze of desire.

“We need to go,” he said, clearing his throat and grabbing his shirt.

You nodded, disappointment setting like a stone in your stomach.

You took the Floo System to the Burrow, managing to arrive only five minutes late.

“Bill!” His family cried, swarming him. But the twins went straight for you.

“Y/n! Look at you!” George gushed, pulling you in for a hug.

“Happy birthday to us,” Fred smirked, and you swatted his arm before pulling him in for a hug. Over Fred's shoulder, you caught Bill glaring daggers at his younger brother, but he quickly schooled his expression and turned his attention back to his father.

The twins introduced you to the few family members you hadn't met, and you answered the dozens of questions they threw your way while dinner was served. Bill was ignoring you almost entirely, caught up in conversation with his father and Percy. You knew you shouldn't take it personally, you were just colleagues after all, but it still rankled, and you could feel an attitude brewing.

Then, a wicked idea wormed it's way into your mind.

You laughed loudly at one of George's jokes, leaning into his side while he gestured in the air. He draped his arm over you, the type of platonic physical contact the two of you did all the time, but Bill didn't know that.

You saw Bill’s sharp eye snag on the movement, and bit your lips to keep from smiling at your small victory.

A few moments later, you reached over to take a sip of Fred's beer, making a show of wrapping your lips around the mouth of the bottle, your fingers delicate on the glass. You set the bottle down, then shifted to whisper something in Fred’s ear, your hand resting on his. You didn't say anything of real interest, just a little inside joke between the two of you. Fred chuckled, turning to whisper something back to you, and you grinned, winking at him.

You risked a glance at Bill and saw him white knuckling his empty whiskey glass, eyes trained on the birthday cake at the center of the table, and your confidence swelled.

“Mrs. Weasley, would you like some help clearing up for dessert?” You asked, batting your lashes.

“Oh, thank you, dearie!” She chirped, grinning at you.

You jumped up and started to collect the plates, using your wand to clear away the food. Moving around the table, you reached Bill, who was chatting with Ron about Ministry things. You leaned over Bill's shoulder, brushing against his arm to retrieve his plate, but he didn't react. Didn't even look up at you.

You huffed internally and brought the dishes to the kitchen, casing a spell so they'd wash themselves. You went to the fridge, retrieving a fresh beer for Fred and grabbed the bottle of fire whiskey from the counter.

You returned to the dining room and set the beer in front of Fred, who accepted with a smile.

“Thanks, love,” he cooed, taking a sip.

Then, you filled George's whiskey, careful to pour the correct amount. You could feel Bill’s eyes burning into you, his jaw clenched, and a giddy excitement flared in your lower belly. You capped the whiskey, licking a stray drop from your thumb, and returned it to the kitchen, leaving Bill’s glass dry.

Cake was served, and you let George feed you a few forkfuls while you and Fred told a few of your favorite stories from your time together at Hogwarts.

You knew you'd done it when Bill excused himself to smoke, a habit he never indulged in at work.

You knew it was wrong to push him, to strain whatever tenuous balance the two of you held, but you just couldn't help yourself. He was driving you insane.

After dessert, everyone ventured back into the living room for games and more drinks, and you slipped outside to find Bill.

He found you first.

An arm snaked out of the shadows and tugged you into the dark, directly into a hard chest.

“Have you lost your fucking mind?” Bill growled against your ear, the smell of smoke and whiskey clouding the air around him.

“I don't know what you mean,” you replied, tilting your head.

His took a drag off of his cigarette, glaring at you through the smoke. “You know better than to lie to me,” he warned.

“I didn't peg you for the jealous type, Mr. Weasley,” you teased, desire spilling through your body and making your thighs clench.

His free hand lifted, skimming your throat before moving around the nape of your neck. “It already kills me that they met you first, that they know you so well.” His grip tightened, scruffing you, and you gasped. “Is this what you wanted?” He rasped, his eyes locked onto yours.

“Yes, Bill,” you whimpered, pressing your body against his. “Please.”

He smiled, a wolfish, sharp thing, and dragged you the last few inches to his mouth. It was a rough kiss, a culmination of weeks of longing, his teeth nipping at your lower lip, prying your mouth open so he could taste you. His tongue tangled with yours and you moaned, getting drunk off of his lust, his dominance.

It was so different than his usual professional, collected demeanor. You knew he had an edge to him, an undercurrent of darkness that made him so adept at handling curses, but you never expected this. Having him be so rough, so needy, it made you want to climb him like a tree.

He flipped the two of you around, pressing you into the wall, his free hand splaying across your lower back to keep your hips anchored to his as he leaned into you. He felt so different than the other boys you'd been with, so confident and commanding, knowing exactly how to handle you and your desperation.

“Bill,” you gasped, head falling back as he kissed and licked down your throat, his teeth grazing your fluttering pulse. It felt like he was devouring you, biting off chunks of your rationality, your resolve, until you were nothing but a writhing, moaning mess in his arms.

His hand released your neck, sliding down to grab your waist. “But now I know you better, and I. Don't. Share.” Each snarled word was like shot of adrenaline to your heart, forcing your already dizzy self to clutch his shoulders to stay upright.

You nodded, desperate to be closer to him, to have him touch you. His possessiveness drove you crazy, had you practically foaming at the mouth for him, but he wasn't having it.

He grabbed your hands and removed them from his body, and you whined in protest. “Behave, and go back inside before you smell like smoke,” he ordered, though his voice was decidedly softer than before, almost breathless. He nudged you away from him and took another draw of his cigarette, the sharp planes of his face illuminated by the glowing tip.

Reluctantly, you ventured back inside, your thighs sticky with slick and knees weak. You were so focused on what you could do to drive him mad, you forgot entirely about what he could do to you.

So, you were in your best behavior the rest of the night. Charming the parents, befriending the other siblings, being as fun and social as you could manage. By the end of the night, you were buzzed, socially drained, and unbelievably horny, ready to pounce on Bill every time you caught his eye.

“Alright, we have to get to the bank early tomorrow. Y/n, I'll take you home.” He gave you a pointed look and you nodded. “Goodnight, family!” Bill called, hugging his siblings before ushering you towards the Floo Station.

“Happy birthday!” You hugged Fred and George on your way past, and half-stumbled into the Floo Station from exhaustion.

Bill caught you with a strong arm around your waist and held you up, casting the spell before his family could see how close your bodies were.

The next moment, you were back in the office, head spinning from the booze and the magic.

“Alright, love?” He asked, tightening his grip on you when you swayed on your feet.

You nodded and he released you, leaving you cold and unsteady. You walked in silence back to his office to get your things.

When you arrived, you stopped in the doorway. “M’sorry about earlier,” you mumbled, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“So am I,” he replied, walking towards his desk and loosening his tie. Your stomach dropped.

“Why are you sorry?” You asked, bracing yourself for rejection. “I was the one that acted like an idiot.”

He looked up at you, a sharpness in his eyes. “Don't speak about yourself like that,” he snapped, and you nodded, looking at the floor.

You heard the tread of footsteps, then his hand reached out to hold your chin, tilting your head up to meet his eyes. They were stormier than you'd ever seen them, the sky before a shipwreck.

“I'm sorry for being so rough with you, I can be—” his eyes flicked away, brow pinching in consternation. “After the attack, and the war, and the divorce…I can be cruel, angry. It's a part of me I don't like to show,” he admitted. “So I'm sorry if I frightened you, or overstepped.”

“You didn't frighten me,” you said, placing a tentative hand on his sternum, wanting to comfort him. “Far from it.”

He searched your face as you gazed up at him, starry eyed, and the silence stretched for a few moments.

“This is what I saw,” he murmured.

“What do you mean?” You asked, practically trembling with anticipation.

“When you wore the Chameleon necklace,” he replied, his eyes tracing the hollow of your throat before lifting back up to your face. “I saw you like this.”

“You wanted to see me like…this?” You asked, looking down at your dress, confused.

He shook his head, his hand moving up to caress your cheek. “No, not the dress,” he said, so close you could smell the whiskey on his breath. “That right there,” he hummed with a soft, satisfied smile, his thumb smoothing just underneath your lower lashline. “The desire in your eyes.”

Heat scorched your skin and your tried to pull away out of embarrassment, but he held you firm.

“No, darling. You're done hiding from me,” he said, the petname making your pussy thrum, slick collecting on the inside of your thighs. “I've been waiting to see that look in your eye. To see you need me as badly as I've needed you.”

Your heart stalled, your thoughts turning to static.

Needed me?

“I had to be sure this was what you really wanted, that I wasn't just seeing what I wanted to see…” he trailed off, expression softening as he continued to look into your eyes.

“I didn't think you wanted me,” you whispered, in complete disbelief. “I thought I was going crazy.”

“Perhaps we both have.” He bumped his nose against yours, warm breath fanning against your skin. “You've ruined me. My entire life I've been the epitome of restraint. But with you—” His thumb tugged at your lower lip, sending a tendril of arousal curling down your spine. “I can't seem to help myself.”

“Then don’t hold back,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck and running your fingers through his hair. “I want you to ruin me too.”

“Sweet girl,” he cooed, feeding his thumb into your mouth. You flicked your tongue over it, tasting the salt of his skin before sucking lightly. “I intend to.”

He surged forward, capturing your lips in a breathtaking, soul-deep kiss that you felt through every nerve ending. You kissed him back eagerly, tugging his hair as he hauled you closer, lifting you into the air so you wrapped your legs around his waist.

Without breaking the kiss, he carried you across the office and set you down onto one of the overstuffed leather armchairs, the same one he conducted your interview in. He kissed you a moment longer, his tongue delving in to taste you before he withdrew and lowered himself to his knees in front of you.

“I'm going eat my fill of you, and you’re going to take it all,” he ordered, his voice rough and breathy, chest rising and falling quickly. “Okay?”

“More than okay,” you answered, nodding like an overeager bobble-head.

He chuckled, his eyes holding yours as he gathered up the fabric of your dress and pushed it up your legs, kissing your knees, and up your inner thighs, his long hair tickling the sensitive skin until he reached your clothed cunt, your white panties betraying how aroused you were.

“Look how pretty you are,” he exhaled, breath warm against your skin. “All this for me, baby?”

You nodded, combing your fingers through his red hair so you could see the lovesick look on his handsome face, his eyes soft and mouth upturned at the corners. It was all in such stark contrast to the brutal scars on his face, silvery in the waning candlelight.

You couldn't imagine someone being more beautiful than Bill was in this moment.

He hummed low in his throat, his tongue licking a stripe over your sodden panties and making you whine, desperate for him to touch you.

“How many times have you orgasmed in a row?” He asked, pulling your panties to the side with his middle finger.

“Oh, uh—” your cheeks warmed, caught off guard by the question. “Only once with a partner. Twice on my own. Why?”

You felt him smirk as he leaned closer, pressing a kiss to your swollen clit. “Three, then.”

“Three—oh god,” you moaned, grip tightening on his hair as he laved his tongue through your slit, flicking against your bud before repeating the motion, two, three, five times.

He nursed your clit between his teeth, lashing it with his tongue and making you buck your hips up, the pleasure too intense to hold still. He dropped a forearm over your lower stomach to keep you from moving away, your nails dragging across his skin as you cried out.

He moved down to your entrance, lapping at the pool of slick there before thrusting his tongue inside. With his other hand, he began to massage your clit with his thumb, the rough pad creating delicious friction over your sensitive skin.

Fuck, you could feel your orgasm building already, a coil of heat making your whole body tense and shake, unable to escape his pleasurable assault with his heavy arm holding you down.

“Taste so sweet,” he murmured against you, kitten licking your clit to make you twitch and gasp. He pulled back and spit on your pussy, gliding two fingers through your lips before easing one inside your drooling entrance. “Good girl, can you take another? I know you can—thaaaat’s it, love. Little pussy sucking me right in, so perfect for me.” He was speaking directly against your clit, the movement of his lips and flick of his tongue making your mind go fuzzy, your body ratcheting closer to release by the second.

He curled his fingers inside you, his lips finally sealing to your clit again, and you keened. Sensing you were close, he increased his pace, ruthlessly dragging you to the very edge.

“God, Bill—shit, I'm gonna come!” You cried, your fingers threading through his in an attempt to hang on while he sent you to orbit.

With a final flutter of his fingers against that spongy spot inside of you, you broke, a burst of dizzying pleasure making your eyes roll back, your body convulse in his hold as your orgasm tore through you.

“That's one,” he purred, only slowing for a moment so you could take a full breath before he ramped up his movements again, adding a third finger to your sloppy channel.

“Fuck, I can't—” you whined, tears squeezing from the corners of your eyes as your body was wound tight once again, helpless as a ballerina in a music box.

“You can. You will,” he ordered, his tone making your pussy clench around his fingers. "This is what you wanted, isn't it? You've got me now, darling."

“Bill, I—” you screamed as he bit down on your clit, sending you directly back over the edge again, your first orgasm not even fully dissipated before the second one slammed into you, faster and stronger, white hot. Like he'd forced it out of you with his expert touch and tongue.

“That's two. Well done, my love,” he cooed, soothing the bite with his tongue and gently removing his fingers.

You were in a daze, trembling and liquified, practically boneless in the chair. You'd never come so hard on your life.

“Ah-ah,” he chastised, reaching up to pat your cheek with his wet fingers before feeding them into your open mouth. “Not done yet, love.”

You sucked your release off his digits, mindless and happy to do whatever he wanted, so long as he keeps touching you like that.

He withdrew his fingers and lowered his head between your legs again, dragging his tongue through your sensitive folds, smiling when you shivered. With slow, unhurried strokes, he cleaned up the mess he'd made of you, making wide circles around your clit to apply less direct pressure and avoid overstimulating you.

“I could stay here forever,” he groaned, the vibration making you gasp. “Give me one more, yeah? Please? Let me be the one that takes you there.”

It was surreal, being completely at his mercy, yet he's the one begging you to let him make you come again. He'd rendered you completely brainless, and still wanted to give you more.

And you still had barely gotten to touch him.

It was the most delicious torture, the most exquisite suffering, and you knew you were so royally fucked.

There was no going back from this.

“Wanna touch you,” you whimpered, too far gone to do anything but squirm.

“Not yet, I told you how this was going to go. One more, then you’re getting some rest.” He hiked your leg over his shoulder, nuzzling against your pussy. “You don't want to be exhausted at work tomorrow, do you?”

You shook your head, having forgotten completely about anything that wasn't Bill Weasley and his magic fucking tongue.

“Good girl. Now relax and let me work.” He lifted you up slightly, angling you directly towards his mouth, and he resumed feasting, taking big, messy licks and sucks of your cunt, the sounds lewd and unabashed, and you fucking loved it.

You did as your were told and relaxed your muscles, sinking deeper into the chair with your legs in the air. You'd submitted to him already, but this was a a true surrender, passing your entire self, body and soul into his hands. Trusting that he would take care of every part of you.

“That's it, baby,” he praised, kissing your sticky thighs before returning to suckle your clit, making your body hum back to life, pleasure beginning to mount once more.

You moaned his name, nails biting into the leather as he brought you higher and higher, his languid, self-indulgent movements making your head spin.

Feeling your body start to tremble, he flicked his tongue out, just the tip tickling against your hyper-sensitive bud, and you rolled over the edge, simmering, honeyed pleasure spilling through you as you came a third time. It wasn't a harsh, debilitating orgasm, but a blissful release of endorphins that brought tears to your eyes, your muscles and bones unraveling down to the cellular level.

“And there's three,” he said, placing a final, tender kiss to your clit before righting your panties and pulling your dress down.

You were completely blissed out, in your own world as he tugged you off of the chair and into his lap, pressing feather-light kisses up your neck and jaw.

“Come back to me, love. Let me see those pretty eyes so I know you're alright,” he murmured against your cheek, his hands absently massaging your thighs and hips to guide you back into your body.

You blinked your eyes open, turning to press a kiss to his scarred cheek, your chest warm with affection.

“There she is.” He smiled, catching your lips in a soft, sipping kiss. “Okay, love?” He asked, leaning his forehead against yours.

“Yeah,” you said, breathless. “That was—I’ve never—”

“You were amazing. And if you didn’t look ready to pass out, I would be taking number four and five.” He helped you sit up, fixing your hair and wiping away a streak of mascara with his thumb.

“Not possible,” you giggled, reaching up to brush the hair from his eyes, your hand moving down to cup his scarred cheek. “As talented as you are, there's no way I could come again.”

He smirked, leaning into your palm. “I guess we'll have to find out. C’mon, let’s get you home.” He helped you to your feet, your knees a little wobbly, collected your things, and led you back out to the Floo Station.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?” You asked, taking your things from his arms.

“For a bit, but I leave tomorrow afternoon for Cairo, remember?” He looked genuinely apologetic for having to leave, and your heart deflated a bit, disappointed that you wouldn’t see him for a week, maybe more.

“Right, Cairo,” you said, trying to hide how you felt.

“Hey.” He reached out to wrap an arm around your waist, pulling you back into his chest. “If it wasn’t so dangerous, I’d take you with me. But I can’t risk something happening to you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “Plus I need a capable curse-breaker to manage things here.”

“I know, I know,” you sighed, nosing into his neck and breathing him in.

He held you quietly for another moment, his hand trailing up and down your spine before you finally pulled back, yawning.

“Go on, I’ll see you in the morning.” He caught your hand and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “Goodnight, love.”

You stepped into the station and grabbed a handful of the floo powder. “G’night,” you said with a sleepy smile, and cast the spell to transport you home.

Though, you realized with a nervous pang, it felt like you were doing the opposite.

Thank you so much for reading!

Comment if you'd like to be included in the taglist for the next part <3

taglist: @itisjustwhatitis, @carmenschemtrails, @karina-v20, @acourtofexiles, @meteora-fc, @l1nd3n, @just-some-random-blogger

[nyxs2]

Ma Meilleure Ennemie (pt 7/?)

A blade is a mirror of control — sharp, unyielding, and always two-edged. No matter how tightly you hold it, it can just as easily turn against you, leaving you bleeding from your own grasp.

Silco x fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI)

Word Count: 8,3K

Warnings: smut, resolved sexual tension, oral sex (m!receiving), deep throat, a little bit of female domination, cowgirl position, unprotected sex, creampie, use of the title "sir" in a sexual context, knife play (no penetration with the knife handle if you're expecting it not yet at least), vaginal fingering, possessive behavior, you are a prostitute, Silco POV

Set before the events of Act 2 of the first season of Arcane.

Part 6

Silco's Pov ━━━━━━━���༻━━━━━━━

Silco's head fell back against the chair, his eyes fluttering shut as she worked her magic on him. He could feel every suckle, every flick and swirl of her tongue as she took him deep into her throat. The sensation was exquisite, the wet heat enveloping his aching length driving him wild with lust. His hands tightened in her hair, his fingers tangling in the silky strands as he guided her movements, urging her to take him deeper.. He loved the way her lips stretched around him, the way her throat constricted as she swallowed around his girth.

Fuck, he had forgotten how good she was at it. Too good. He could feel himself already getting close, could feel the telltale tightness in his balls that signaled his impending release. But he didn't want this to end, not yet. He wanted to lose himself in her mouth, to forget about everything except the feeling of her hot, wet mouth wrapped around him.

He knew he should be focusing on his work, on the mountain of paperwork that always seemed to pile up on his desk. But how could he concentrate when he had a goddess on her knees before him, worshipping him with her mouth? He couldn't, and he didn't want to. Let the work wait. Right now, all that mattered was the feeling of her mouth on his cock, and the way she seemed to crave his pleasure as much as he craved her.

He let out a low groan, his hips lifting off the chair as he pushed himself deeper into her throat. He could feel her taking him, could feel her relaxing her muscles to accept his length. He knew he was being rough, knew he was gripping her hair almost hard enough to hurt, but he couldn't help it. He was lost in a haze of pleasure, and she was the cause of it.

He could feel her taking him deeper, inch by inch. His chest heaving with each labored breath as he fought to maintain control. He looked down at her, taking in the sight of her lips stretched obscenely around his thick length, her cheeks hollowed as she sucked him. It was a vision of pure debauchery, one that made his blood burn hotter in his veins. "Fuck..." he growled, his voice strained with pleasure. "Take it all, dove. I know you can handle it."

Silco pushed her head down further slowly, helping her with the task she seemed so focused on completing. He could feel the head of his cock kissing the entrance to her throat, and he shuddered at the sensation. She was so tight, so hot and wet and perfect. He wanted to bury himself inside her completely.

For a few long, blissful seconds, he kept her there, his cock lodged deep in her throat as he savored the feeling of her swallowing around him. He could feel her throat convulsing, could feel the way she struggled to breathe through her nose as he held her in place. Finally, just as he felt the first stirrings of his orgasm building at the base of his spine, he released her. He pulled her off his cock, his length slick with her saliva as he gasped for air. He could see the way her chest heaved, the way she panted as she tried to catch her breath.

Silco could see the way her hair was mussed, the way it fell in disarray around her face from his rough treatment. It only served to make her look even more desirable, even more beautiful. He contented himself with observing her as she stood, her movements a bit unsteady from being on her knees for so long. She reached up and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, a gesture that was both endearing and erotic. He could see the way her chest heaved with each breath, the way her nipples strained against the thin fabric of her top.

In one swift motion, she undid her pants and shimmied out of them, letting them drop to the floor. Silco's eyes darkened as he took in the sight of her, now naked from the waist down. He could see the glisten of her arousal coating her inner thighs, the urge to touch her, to bury his head between those damn thighs, was almost overwhelming.

But then she was straddling his lap, her naked heat pressing against his aching cock, and he forgot all about his original intentions. He gripped her hips, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh as he pulled her closer, grinding his length against her slick folds. He could feel the wetness of her arousal coating his shaft, the way she was already so ready for him.

"Now that's the right position." her voice came, low and slightly hoarse, tinged with an unmistakable arrogance. That damned smile of hers – sharp, teasing, and brimming with confidence – dared him to react.

Silco blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the shift in her demeanor. His blue eye narrowed, a flicker of intrigue sparking in its depths as her hand rose, bold as ever, to grip his chin. She tilted his face upward, forcing his gaze to meet hers, mirroring the very gesture he had so often used on her. The audacity. His instinct was to retaliate, to remind her exactly who commanded this space. But instead, Silco found himself leaning into her touch, allowing the moment to play out. There was something intoxicating about it—watching her wrestle the dynamic of power away, even if only briefly. Silco had to admit there was something thrilling about seeing her like this - confident, assertive, and undeniably sexy.

She then was positioning herself above him, the head of his cock kissing her entrance, and any thoughts of laughing filled his mind. He looked up at her, taking in the determined set of her jaw, the way her eyes blazed with a hunger that matched his own. But she didn't finish the downward movement. Instead, she asked: "Will this chair hold?"

He smirked, his hand gripping her hip tighter as he encouraged her to bend down. "Oh, the chair will hold, dove. Don't you worry about that."

Silco pushed her down slowly, inch by tortuous inch, until finally he was fully sheathed inside her. He groaned at the sensation, his head falling back against the chair as he savored the feeling of her tight walls gripping him like a vice. He could feel every flutter, every clench, as her body adjusted to his size. It was pure, blissful torture, and he never wanted it to end.

Silco groaned, his eyes fluttering shut as she began to move. She rose up slowly, until only the tip of his cock remained inside her, before sinking back down just as languidly. His hands itched to simply grip her hips and dictate her movements however he saw fit, like he always did. But he held back, keeping both hands only resting on her hips to stabilize her and nothing more.

If she truly wished to continue this little charade where she believed herself in control, Silco would allow it—just this once. But only because he found himself in a rare, indulgent mood. But gods, she was torturing him. The deliberate, agonizing slowness with which she moved, sliding down in his lap with a purposefully slow rhythm before rising again, was was driving him crazy.

His hands slid up her sides, his fingers splaying across the smooth expanse of her back as he pulled her closer. He could feel the soft swell of her breasts pressing against his chest, their hardened nipples a delicious contrast to the softness of her flesh.

He wanted to rip it off that top she was wearing, to expose her completely to his hungry gaze, but he resisted the urge. For now, he contented himself with watching her, with admiring the way her body undulated above him, the way her head tilted to the side, her flushed face, and the way her mouth hung slightly open, lips parted as if caught between a breathless sigh and a moan. Her eyes were shut, though he couldn't tell if it was from exertion or pleasure. Perhaps both. Her hands gripped his shoulders tightly, her fingers digging into him as if she sought something solid to anchor herself. She was a vision, raw and unfiltered, her beauty so stark and unadulterated that it was almost impossible to reconcile it with the filth and grime of Zaun.

It made Silco pause for the briefest moment. How could someone like her be born of a place as harsh and unyielding as this?

He wasn't naive, nor a hypocrite. Silco loved Zaun; he believed in its potential, in its right to stand equal to or above Piltover. But he wasn't blind to its flaws. He knew Zaun for what it truly was—brutal, unrelenting, and cruel. He had built his empire atop that very decay, navigating it, controlling it, weaponizing it when needed. The city chewed people up and spat them out, leaving behind only the strongest or the most cunning to claw their way to survival. Yet here she was, a flower somehow growing in the cracks of Zaun's polluted concrete, defying the odds and thriving amidst its decay.

It almost felt sinful, what he was doing. The way his hands roamed her body, the way he coaxed her reactions with an authority he knew she would never deny him—it felt like corruption. Like he was staining something sacred.

But the moment the thought crossed his mind, Silco quashed it with a resolve as sharp as a blade.

Sin? No, he decided, leaning closer, his fingers curling possessively around her waist. What they had wasn't sin—it was inevitability. She was no fragile thing to be coddled or worshiped from afar. She was fire wrapped in silk, strength disguised as softness, and he would claim her fully, unapologetically.

If this was corruption, then so be it. Silco had long since accepted the monster he had become. She wasn't his salvation, and he certainly wasn't hers.

Silco's breath hitched as she leaned in, her forehead pressing against his own. Her eyes, those piercing, intense orbs that seemed to see straight into his very soul, stared into his own. In their depths, he saw a whirlwind of emotions, a tempest of things left unspoken and perhaps best left that way. Things he didn't want to acknowledge, didn't want to examine too closely.

His hands gripped her hips hard, his fingers digging into her soft flesh as he thrust up to meet her grinding. He could feel her starting to tighten around him, her walls fluttering and clenching as her own peak approached. The sensation was too much, too intense, too... everything. With a guttural groan, Silco let go, his hips jerking erratically as he spilled himself inside her.

He pulled her down hard, burying himself to the hilt inside her spasming heat as his orgasm crashed over him like a tidal wave. He could feel her coming undone above him, her body shaking and shuddering as she cried out her own release. The sound of his name on her lips, raw and wanton, only served to prolong his own intense pleasure, his cock twitching and throbbing as he rode out the aftershocks of his climax.

Silco slumped back against the chair, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. The chair creaked ominously beneath them, the old wood groaning in protest at the vigorous use. He couldn't help but let out a low, breathless laugh as he imagined the chair collapsing entirely, sending them both tumbling to the floor.

Panting softly, Silco looked up at she with a wicked grin, his eyes glinting with renewed desire and a hint of mischief. "Much as I'd love to stay right here and ruin my office furniture with you, dove, I have a feeling we might be better off continuing this somewhere a bit more... stable." he punctuated his words with a roll of his hips, a reminder of his lingering hardness inside her. "What do you say we take this to your future room?" he raised an eyebrow suggestively. "The bed is much more accommodating."

She just nodded as she settled even further against Silco's body, her legs probably having lost the stability to move on their own. Silco then decided that for the first time since he had taken control of Zaun, he would take the day off.

[...]

It was curious how daily tasks and the constant headaches had become more tolerable since she became part of his routine. Silco found himself anticipating the end of the day with an almost imperceptible pleasure, knowing she would be there, waiting to be the relief he hadn't even realized he needed years ago. Lately, he spent more time in the room he had assigned to her than in his own. Even so, he never stayed the night.

As tempting as the idea of waking up beside her was—a scenario he imagined more often than he cared to admit—Silco understood this was a line she wasn't ready to cross yet. Sex was one thing; sharing the intimacy of a bed without the context of desire was something else entirely. He knew there were still wounds between them, not fully healed, especially when it came to Kate.

He saw the lit candle on the windowsill in the hallway leading to her room. A silent homage to the memory of the dead girl. He understood what it meant. It wasn't just grief; it was a constant reminder that, as much as she was there, she hadn't forgiven him. Not completely.

Even so, she no longer seemed to carry that murderous fervor from before. He noticed that her anger appeared in other moments, especially during their more intense encounters. She had an occasional aggression that surfaced during those times, something Silco suspected was a reflection of the conflicting emotions she harbored.

But he was patient. He knew it would take time for her to let her guard down completely, to trust him enough to allow the level of intimacy he desired. He wasn't in a rush. After all, she was under his wing now, and he had no intention of letting her slip away.

However, there were complications. There always were.

Jinx was the biggest one. Silco still hadn't decided how to keep the two of them apart in the long term. Jinx was unpredictable, showing up at his office whenever the whim struck her, without warning or ceremony. Fortunately, Sevika had been managing to contain the girl's escapades. But that was only a temporary solution. He needed a plan, something to ensure they would never cross paths. They were such distinct parts of his life that he dreaded the chaos that could arise if they collided.

And, of course, there was the financial issue. Keeping someone like her by his side wasn't cheap. Besides the allowance he planned to deposit in her name, there was his part of the contract he had to fulfill. These expenses, while manageable, required adjustments.

Fortunately, business was thriving. The Shimmer continued to generate considerable profits, especially with the growing number of dependent users. He had already made the decision to adjust prices to capitalize on this increasing demand—something that would undoubtedly ensure the necessary cash flow to support both his personal interests and his ambitions for Zaun. Moreover, The Last Drop was flourishing with the changes that Silco had implemented. 

The weekend, however, brought no rest for Silco. He spent the entire day out, dealing with a frustrating string of problems that only seemed to pile up. Among them were the disastrous tests of the Chemtanks. The test subjects, intoxicated by Shimmer and armed with the promise of becoming living weapons, failed spectacularly. Instead of targeting their predesignated objectives, they lost complete control, destroying everything in their path.

Silco was accustomed to chaos, but this exceeded all limits. The creatures had nearly managed to destroy the security booth where he and the other barons were observing the demonstration. It was only thanks to the safety system—designed to detonate the test subjects in case of failure—that everyone emerged unscathed.

"Disappointing" would be an understatement. It was a disaster that cost dearly, not just in financial resources but also in precious liters of Shimmer. At least Renni assured him that the next prototypes would not suffer from the same flaws and would be better. Silco's response was clear: "They'd better be." He knew that subtle threats worked best.

When he finally returned to the Last Drop, the exhaustion was evident in his posture, though his expression remained impassive. Sevika was already waiting for him at the bar, as usual. He passed by her without slowing down, his attention fixed on the stairs leading to the second floor. Sevika didn't seem to mind. She simply adjusted her pace to match his, handing him a letter as they ascended.

"Marcus sent this." she began, her voice firm but unhurried. "Said he'll try to find the documents you requested. But he wanted to emphasize that the case was closed and archived. So, according to him, it can't be the same person."

Silco took the letter, opening it with a deliberate gesture. His eyes scanned the contents briefly, just enough to confirm the information.

"How long will it take him to find it?"

"Not long, probably." Sevika replied casually. "He said he'll request a meeting for it."

They reached the office, and Silco opened the door with a swift motion. The room was shrouded in dimness, illuminated only by the flickering light of a lamp on the desk. He crossed the room, tossing the letter onto the growing pile of papers.

"And her?" Silco asked without looking at Sevika. "What did she do while I was away?"

Sevika settled into the couch, pouring herself a glass of whiskey from a bottle nearby. "She spent most of the time here." she said, taking a sip before continuing. "When I came in to check, she was asleep on the couch. So I moved her to the bedroom."

Silco eased into the leather chair, the faint creak of the furniture breaking the silence in the office. He slowly turned to face the window, where the hazy view of Zaun stretched out like a decadent painting. "Did you notice anything suspicious?"

She took another sip of whiskey before responding. "Nothing specific. She didn't steal anything, I can say that much for sure. I checked her clothes. But..." Sevika paused, as if internally deliberating on how to phrase her next words without incurring Silco's wrath. "She's too passive for someone who's not here of her own free will."

Silco swiveled slightly in his chair but still didn't look at her directly. His attention remained fixed on the scene outside. "What do you mean by 'not here of her own free will'?" he didn't need to raise his voice; the cold, sharp edge of his words was reprimand enough. "She agreed to the terms of the agreement. That makes her presence here a choice."

Sevika didn't respond immediately, but her silence was as telling as any verbal reply. Silco knew she wasn't entirely satisfied with the situation. Sevika had always been distrustful—a trait he usually valued. Still, he was confident his dove wasn't foolish enough to breach the terms of the deal so carelessly. Not with so much at stake.

The office fell into an oddly uncomfortable silence, and even with his back turned, Silco could tell the other person in the room was restless.

"Are you sure it's her?" Sevika finally asked, her voice almost hesitant. She was probably wrestling internally with whether or not to question him so openly, but as his right hand, she had every right to know. "That woman?"

"I need confirmation, but all signs point to yes."

"I hope you're right." Sevika drained her glass in one swift motion and rose from the couch, pouring herself another drink before heading to the door. "I'll keep an eye on her." she added before stepping out and closing the door behind her.

The silence that followed was a relief for Silco. He closed his eyes for a moment, his head resting against the back of the chair. For the first time that day, peace seemed within reach, even if only temporarily. He knew he should be focusing on the piles of documents on the desk, on the schemes that demanded his attention, on the financial matters that needed resolution... but his mind kept drifting back to her.

There was something selfish about having her there by his side; he acknowledged that. He wanted her for reasons even he couldn't fully explain. But there was another reason, the one that had driven him to set all of this in motion. It was a risky gamble. There was a small chance that it was all a mistake, that she was just an extraordinary lookalike of the woman he had tried to locate years ago, back when Vander was still alive. But her reactions, especially during the heated argument a few days ago, were almost impossible to ignore.

And even if she wasn't the one, Silco knew he was already too invested to turn back. Regret had no place in his life.

Releasing a heavy sigh, he turned the chair toward the desk cluttered with papers, contracts, and reports. The exhaustion weighed on his shoulders like a physical burden, but he didn't let it stop him. He stood only to grab the bottle Sevika had left behind, placing it on the desk within easy reach. He knew he'd need the liquid comfort of alcohol to get through the rest of the night.

[...]

The hours blurred together. The world around him seemed to dissolve as he delved into the paperwork. The only companions were the clink of the glass against the wood and the occasional crackle of the cigar tip he lit from time to time. He was so engrossed that he barely noticed when the noise from the Last Drop gradually faded until it disappeared completely, signaling the bar's closure. The night stretched on as Silco remained isolated in his office, like a man suspended out of time. Sleepless nights were common for him, and it was shaping up to be one of those nights.

It was then he heard the nearly imperceptible click of the lock. It was a subtle sound, but enough to draw his attention, interrupting the solitude he inhabited like an old friend. Silco raised his gaze, observing over the rim of his glass as the office door slowly creaked open, revealing a figure slipping in quietly, almost like a shadow.

And there she was.

She was wearing the clothes he had purchased the day before—a simple outfit, but on her, it looked like temptation incarnate. In the dim light of the office, the shadows caressed her curves, accentuating every detail of her silhouette. She stopped by the door, leaning lazily against it. Her hands still held the doorknob behind her, while her head tilted slightly, her eyes fixed on him.

Silco, for his part, lowered his glass, resting it on the desk with a slow, deliberate motion. He didn't say anything. He simply leaned back in his chair, feeling the muscles in his back protest after being hunched over for so long. Even so, he didn't take his eyes off her.

Time seemed to stretch, making the silence tangible, almost suffocating. But Silco was in no hurry to break it. He knew the power of a well-placed pause, of a moment that lingered beyond discomfort, transforming into something almost intimate.

She, however, decided to end the standoff.

"I found it curious that you haven't come to see me until now." she said, her tone that familiar mix of playful and accusatory. "So, I wanted to make sure you weren't drooling over your oh-so-important documents."

A subtle smile appeared on Silco's lips, though it didn't quite reach genuine. "I don't plan on sleeping tonight, dove."

She moved finally, stepping away from the door and crossing the office toward the desk. Her heels clicked softly against the wooden floor, a faint sound that somehow seemed to fill the entire room. He raised an eyebrow at the footwear. Why the hell was she wearing heels at this hour of the night?

"Not planning to sleep because you've got work to do or because something else is on your mind?"

There was a clear insinuation in her question, one Silco picked up on immediately. He let out a low, humorless chuckle as he poured the last dose from the bottle. The amber liquid glimmered under the faint light, but it was no more than an empty ritual. After all these years, he knew it was nearly impossible to get drunk.

"As much as I'd never deny enjoying your company after a goddamned day like this." he said, his voice low, with a rasp of fatigue. "I'm not in the mood right now."

When he heard that, he noticed a brief glimmer of incredulity in her eyes, as if the idea of him rejecting her implied offer was impossible. It was almost comical. She stopped beside him, but to his surprise, instead of doing what she always did—sitting on his lap as if it were the most natural thing in the world—she simply leaned against the desk. For a moment, Silco felt something akin to shock. He was so accustomed to accommodating her that he automatically prepared himself whenever she approached, like a conditioned reflex. However, the fact that she merely stayed there, close but not intruding, made him feel somewhat strange.

"You look tired."

Her voice pulled him from his thoughts—a soft tone, almost casual, but laden with something Silco couldn't quite discern, whether it was concern or mere observation.

"It's been a long day." he replied curtly, almost disinterested. Not because he didn't want to share, but because he saw no point in burdening her with the day's frustrations. Silco was pragmatic, and to him, there was no sense in wasting words on matters that wouldn't change anything. "And you? Why are you here at this hour?"

She leaned back slightly, settling more comfortably on the edge of the desk, practically sitting on it, her fingers idly playing with the cold surface of the wood. "I couldn't sleep." she offered no further explanation, and Silco didn't bother to press.

"So, you came looking for company or distraction?"

She averted her gaze, fixing it on the window as if the world outside might hold some answer she seemed to be seeking. "Maybe both."

It was only when she turned back to him that Silco realized how closely he had been paying attention to her. The movement was smooth, her hair falling softly over her face as though even that had been carefully choreographed. Instinctively, he raised a hand to brush the strand aside, his fingers grazing her skin lightly. She leaned into the touch almost imperceptibly, and noticing this, he allowed his hand to linger for a second longer than necessary.

Silco's gaze remained fixed on the delicate curve of her cheek, watching every subtle movement as his thumb slowly traced the line of her jaw. He felt the soft texture of her skin beneath his touch, the warmth emanating from her like a stark contrast to the roughness of his own calloused hands.

For a moment, he indulged himself—letting his hand glide down, his fingers lightly brushing against her collarbone, tracing the gentle contours before pulling away and leaning back into his chair. He created distance, but not so much that he couldn't feel the residual warmth of her presence.

"A distraction, then." he murmured, his voice low and tinged with the rasp that only exhaustion or a long night could bring. Crossing his arms over his chest, he watched her intently. His eyes swept over her face, searching for answers to questions he hadn't yet formulated. "And what kind of distraction do you have in mind, dove?"

She didn't answer. Not immediately, at least. Instead, she let her gaze wander slowly over the calculated mess that was his desk. Papers, scribbled notes, the ashtray now full of ashes and extinguished cigars... and among it all, the cold glint of the dagger he had casually tossed onto the surface hours earlier. He saw her eyes linger on the blade, even as she tried not to show any interest.

He leaned forward slowly, picking up the dagger between his fingers with an almost theatrical care. It was a simple weapon, but well-crafted — a handle adorned with silver, a blade sharp enough to slice through paper with a mere touch. He held it by the hilt, turning it slightly in his hands as he weighed his own sanity.

It was an act that defied logic. Handing her a sharp object was, in any other situation, the height of recklessness. After all, this was the same woman who, besides telling him to his face that she wanted him dead, had tried to kill him twice with a determination he still wasn't sure whether he admired or feared. And yet, Silco extended the dagger toward her, gripping it by the hilt, the blade pointed at himself — an ironic gesture of trust.

"If you're going to keep staring, you might as well take it."

She hesitated only for a moment before taking the weapon, examining every detail of it. Silco watched intently as she spun the blade between her fingers with an almost unsettling precision. Her movements were fluid, far too confident for someone who, in theory, shouldn't be so accustomed to handling weapons so casually. That dagger seemed to have been made to fit her hand. And that was a detail Silco would not overlook, even though his face remained impassive, his chin resting lightly on his hand as if bored.

She knew how to handle a revolver and now a dagger.

She twirled the blade between her fingers one last time and then pointed it directly at him. Her eyes shone under the warm, yellow glow of the desk lamp, their intensity almost challenging, as if she meant to set the space between them alight. Silco didn't flinch. Instead, he arched an eyebrow, silently daring her to continue.

"You said you weren't in the mood..." she began, her voice soft but laced with an undertone that bordered on provocative. "Is there any chance I can change that?"

"You can try." he replied, his voice low and firm, though the calm tone only masked his heightened awareness. Silco knew underestimating her would be a fatal mistake. The ease with which she shifted between playful and dangerous was something he was still learning to gauge. For a fleeting moment, he considered that the same blade now spinning gracefully between her fingers could just as easily be driven into his chest before he had time to react.

Yet, as if she had read his thoughts, she twirled the blade once more but, this time, pointed it toward herself. Silco remained motionless, his eyes tracking her every move with a mix of fascination and wariness. The cold metal of the blade touched the button of the satin shirt she wore, producing a barely audible sound that, in the quiet of the room, seemed to echo like a thunderclap.

She let the sharp tip linger there for a moment before pressing it gently, slicing through the thread that held the button in place. The small object fell to the floor, and the shirt parted slightly, revealing a glimpse of skin. Silco stayed still, but his eyes betrayed a growing interest as she repeated the motion, slow and deliberate, button by button. Each cut deepened the neckline until the opening reached the valley between her breasts. She stopped there, leaving a few buttons intact, the fabric of her shirt clinging to her body in a way that seemed on purpose; the opening was enough to provoke desire, but her chest remained modestly covered by the material.

Silco tilted his head slightly, his eyes now fixed on her face. There was a barely concealed satisfaction on her lips, as if she knew she had achieved exactly what she intended.

Then she did something he did not expect. She turned the dagger in her hand, mimicking the gesture he had made minutes earlier, the point still directed at herself as she offered him the hilt. However, in her hands, the act carried a different energy—charged, almost perilous.

"Want to finish, Silco?"

Without a word, he reached out and took the dagger from her hand, his fingers brushing against hers in a fleeting moment of contact.

Silco moved, shifting until he was standing between her spread legs. He could feel the heat of her, could smell the scent of her arousal, and it made his head swim with desire. He pressed the flat of the blade against the bare skin of her chest, just above her heart. He can see the rapid flutter of her pulse at the base of her throat, the way her breath comes a little faster now. Fear, perhaps. But there's something else there too, a glimmer of anticipation in those eyes.

Slowly, almost torturously so, Silco began to drag the blade downwards, slicing through the remaining buttons. Each one fell away, clattering to the floor, until her shirt hung open completely. With a deft flick of his wrist, Silco used the dagger to push the garment aside, baring the creamy swell of her breasts to his hungry gaze. He could see the way her chest moved in a deep breath, the way her nipples tightened into hard, aching peaks as the cooler air caressed her skin. Silco licked his lips, his mouth suddenly dry with anticipation. He could feel the heat of her, could see the way her skin flushed a pretty pink, and it made his blood burn hotter in his veins.

With the same slowness as before, he brought the tip of the dagger to the swell of her breast, tracing the delicate curve with the unerring precision of a man who knew exactly what he wanted.

The blade left a faint, red line in its wake, a mark that would fade in time, but one that Silco hoped would linger in her memory. He could feel the way her skin pebbled beneath the cool touch of the metal, could hear the sharp intake of her breath as he teased her, bringing the dagger closer and closer to the straining peak of her nipple.

He could see her shiver, could feel the way her body tensed slightly at the unfamiliar sensation. But she didn't pull away, didn't tell him to stop. If anything, she seemed to lean into the touch, her breast pushing against the dagger as if craving more. Silco circled the blade around one stiff peak, not quite touching yet, just letting the tension stretch out. So, he let the flat of the blade graze against the sensitive tip, a contact firm enough to make her gasp loudly, but not enough to hurt. The cold of the dagger against her warm flesh lasted for just a second before pulling the blade away. He traced the dagger lower, following the curve of her breast, the dip of her waist, the flare of her hip. He could feel the way her body trembled beneath his touch, the growing expectation threatening to burst at any moment.

He noticed her gaze fixed on the blade as it traced its path across her quivering skin. In a fluid motion, he uses the dagger to hook under her chin, the cold metal a stark contrast to the warmth of her soft skin. He applies the slightest pressure, just enough to tilt her head back, forcing her to meet his gaze. The blade pressed lightly against her skin, not hard enough to break it, but with just enough pressure to make her hyper-aware of its presence. The slightest movement and he would slit her throat.

Seeing her like this, at his mercy, was intoxicating in a way he had never experienced before.

"Keep those pretty eyes on me."

At the same time, his other hand began a slow, teasing journey up her thigh. His calloused fingers brushed against the fabric of her skirt, a fleeting, feather-light touch that made her shiver. He could feel the heat of her skin through the thin material, could sense the tension coiling tighter in her muscles with each inch he climbed. His hand crept higher, the hem of her skirt riding up to reveal more and more of her creamy flesh. He could see the way her thighs clenched against his body, the way her muscles jumped beneath his touch. It made him want to push her, to press further, to see just how much he could take before she broke.

"You don't want to end up hurting yourself, do you, dove?" he murmured, his voice a low, sinful purr. "I'd hate for this little blade to slip and mar such perfect skin." he could see the way her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard, could feel the flutter of her pulse beneath the blade. "So keep still and let me take care of you, understood?" "Yes, sir."

Silco's eyebrows arched ever so slightly, his sharp gaze locking onto her as the words slipped from her lips like a forbidden melody: "Yes, sir." The phrase was unanticipated, an anomaly in the ironclad image he held of her — defiant, sharp-tongued, fiercely independent. For a fraction of a second, he was caught off guard. But the surprise melted away almost instantly, replaced by a wave of something darker, more primal. A thrill, coiling like a snake in his chest, hissed its approval at the sound of her submission.

The title of "sir" wasn't unfamiliar to him. His subordinates used it daily, their voices tinged with fear or reverence. Yet, hearing it from her — her — was something else entirely. It wasn't born from fear, nor was it hollow obedience. It was deliberate, purposeful. And to him, it was the closest thing to perfection he'd ever heard.

Without a word, he pressed the blade more firmly into the delicate skin of her chin, the sharp point digging in just enough to draw a single, crimson bead.

"Again." he growled, his voice a low, demanding rumble. "I want to hear you say it again.

Her lips curled into a slow, knowing smile, one that rivaled the hunger in his own gaze. She had learned something about him in that instant, and Silco knew it. She wasn't merely yielding—she was playing his game, wielding her submission like a weapon, and she intended to use it against him. "Yes, sir." Her voice was even sweeter this time, dripping with a sultry edge his grip on the dagger handle tightened instinctively. For a moment, Silco said nothing. He didn't offer his usual sharp retort or biting praise. No, he simply let the moment stretch, savoring the way her words lingered in the room, embedding themselves into his mind like a brand. The sound of it stirred something deep within him that he hadn't anticipated.

So he decided to provide that woman with a little treat.

As Silco slid his hand higher, his fingers brushing against the bare, slick folds of her sex, he felt a jolt of surprise. He paused, his eyes widening fractionally as he realized she was bare beneath her skirt, no scrap of lace or silk separating his touch from her most intimate flesh.

A slow, wicked grin spread across his face, his eyes glinting with a newfound hunger as he processed this revelation. He could feel the heat of her, the slick arousal coating his fingers as he dragged them teasingly along her slit. He could sense the way her body trembled, the desperate little whimper that caught in her throat at the intimate contact.

"My, my, what do we have here? No panties, you naughty girl." his fingers circled her clit, teasing the sensitive nub with a maddeningly light touch. "You came here expecting something like this, didn't you?"

But even as he touched her, even as he felt her respond to his cares, Silco didn't let go of his grip on the dagger. The blade remained pressed beneath her chin, a constant reminder of Silco's order, an order that she seemed to fulfill with great difficulty now.

His fingers dipped lower, teasing her entrance before sliding inside, filling her in one, smooth thrust. He could feel her walls clench around him, could sense the way her body instinctively tried to draw him deeper. His palm pressed against her mound, the heel of his hand grinding against her clit as he began to thrust, setting a deep, deliberate rhythm.

Silco noticed the way her eyelids fluttered, her gaze trying valiantly to stay locked on his own but constantly threatening to drift shut as the pleasure mounted. He could see the strain in her neck as she fought the urge to tilt her head back, to surrender to the blissful oblivion that beckoned.

He also couldn't miss the subtle, desperate undulations of her hips. Even as she tried to hold still, her body betrayed her, rocking against his hand, seeking more of that delicious friction. Her thighs clenched around him, the muscles trembling and fluttering as her arousal grew. The slick heat of her arousal coated his fingers, making them glide more easily through her folds with each thrust.

"Such a greedy little thing."

Watching her come undone was almost as intoxicating as experiencing it himself. Seeing the strong, fierce woman he knew her to be reduced to a quivering, desperate mess by his touch alone sent a dark thrill racing down his spine. He could feel his own arousal straining against his trousers, aching for the slick heat of her core. But he ignored it, focusing instead on the exquisite sight before him.

Silco watched her reaction intently, the way her body tensed under his touch, the sharp intake of breath that escaped her lips as his fingers curled inside her, deliberately seeking out that spot he knew would unravel her completely. A sly smile tugged at his lips as her hand shot up instinctively, grabbing his wrist—the same wrist that still held his dagger, its blade glinting faintly in the dim light of the room.

Her nails dug into his skin, sharp enough to leave small crescent moons, and Silco's grin widened. The sting of her grip was a stark contrast to the heat radiating from her body. He adjusted his hold on the dagger, his knuckles whitening momentarily, before he increased the pace of his movements, his fingers stroking her with a precision born of cruel patience. Silco had to hand it to her. She had actually been keeping her eyes locked on his until now, giving him the perfect view to watch her come undone against his fingers completely.

Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, her body trembling as Silco recognized the telltale signs that she was on the verge of release. At the precise moment she tipped over the edge, he deftly moved the dagger away, the blade slipping from view as her body arched and she shattered against him. Her eyes fluttered shut, her face a portrait of unrestrained ecstasy, and she collapsed against his chest, her breathing ragged and uneven.

Silco didn't falter. His movements remained steady, his hand continuing its ministrations, coaxing her through the waves of her climax. Her soft, breathy moans filled the room, a symphony of vulnerability that stirred something primal within him. Only when her body began to still, her trembling subsiding into languid exhaustion, did he withdraw his fingers from her.

While she slumped against him, her cheek pressed against his chest. Silco dropped the dagger on the table before moving his hand to stroke her hair, a surprising gesture of comfort. But his other hand—oh, his other hand—he brought to his lips with deliberate intent. His tongue darted out, tasting her essence, savoring it like a rare vintage. The flavor was intoxicating, a mixture of salt and sweetness, uniquely hers. He closed his eyes momentarily, a hum of satisfaction rumbling in his throat.

She remained there, silent, for longer than Silco expected, her arms loose around him as she caught her breath. When she finally moved, it was only to lift her face and meet his gaze. Her eyes were still clouded, a reflection of the intensity of the moment before, but there was determination in her weary expression. She insisted on forcing herself to face him, as if trying to prove a strength he already knew she had.

That was when he noticed the small cut on her throat. A thin, almost insignificant line that would likely disappear by morning. Even so, Silco felt compelled to tend to the minor wound. He leaned over, grabbing a nearby handkerchief, and began wiping away the blood that stained her otherwise flawless skin. While he was focused on the task, he felt her hands, small and tentative, settle on his hips, her fingers sliding with both hesitation and intent. The touch made him pause, his gaze shifting from her throat back to her face.

"You need some relief too." she said, her voice husky, heavy with exhaustion and something more, her eyes drifting toward his groin, making her intentions clear.

Silco let out a soft sigh, shaking his head firmly but not unkindly. "Don't concern yourself, dove. You've had enough excitement for one night."

"But I want to, Silco."

With the same gentle care he'd used to clean the cut, he lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him again. "As you wish, then. But first, tell me: Are you alright?" the question came in a deeper tone, almost tender, yet still laced with that unwavering control Silco always exuded.

She nodded, her movements slow, as though navigating the space between exhaustion and comfort. Then she collapsed against him again, her arms wrapping around his waist in an embrace that caught him off guard. Silco was not a man accustomed to gestures of affection, but he didn't push her away. On the contrary, one of his arms encircled her shoulders, holding her there as if the moment were as rare as it was precious.

"Give me a few seconds." she murmured against his chest, her voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt. "And we'll continue this on that couch."

Silco let out a low chuckle, a sound she likely felt more than heard. He tilted his head, his sharp gaze softening as it settled on the top of her head.

"Take all the time you need." he replied, his voice carrying an unspoken promise. "We have the whole night."

[...]

Silco woke with a dull ache radiating through his entire body, every muscle pleading for relief as he slowly pushed himself upright from the couch. His back protested as though he'd slept on the floor, and as he ran a hand over his face and through his hair, the weight of the previous night settled on him—not just in exhaustion, but in his appearance.

He caught a glance of himself in the mirror atop the nearby desk, assessing the damage. His waistcoat hung open, the buttons of his shirt misaligned, and the tie that should have been around his neck lay forgotten on the floor. His shirt, still clinging to his body, was so wrinkled it looked as though it had survived a storm. But what caught his attention most were the marks. Faint dark stains—a brazen reminder of her audacity—were etched into his neck like a deliberate challenge.

Ah, that woman.

Silco ran his tongue over his teeth, a wry smile tugging at his lips as fragments of the night before replayed in his mind. He couldn't quite pinpoint how things had escalated the way they had. The evening had started under his control, of course—it always did. Control was his domain. Yet, somewhere along the line, she had turned the tables. The desk in his office, a space usually reserved for strategy and seriousness, had become the stage for something he would never have permitted under normal circumstances. She had disarmed him—both literally and figuratively—dragging him to the couch in a whirlwind of desire and defiance.

And she made it last. Gods, how she drew it out. Silco, as assured and confident as he was, had to admit to himself that his stamina wasn't what it had been in his younger years. He'd kept pace, of course—he never backed down from a challenge. But the cost was steep. Now, every fiber of his being screamed for rest, and he couldn't decide whether to blame the intensity of the woman or the unforgiving rigidity of that wretched couch.

When he finally managed to regain some semblance of composure, his eyes swept over the room. She, as expected, was already gone, leaving no trace behind—except, perhaps, for the disheveled state she had left him in. She had probably slipped out hours ago without so much as a backward glance. Bending down, he picked up his tie, straightened his shirt as best as he could, and began adjusting his waistcoat while his mind gradually returned to the tasks he had set aside.

But now, he knew something about her—a certain inclination, her particular taste. Silco couldn't suppress a smirk. Perhaps this was something worth exploring again. He could think of a few ideas later, but for now, there was work to be done.

Throughout the morning, there was no sign of her, but that wasn't entirely unusual. She had a habit of spending her mornings holed up in her room, either sleeping or, at the very least, avoiding unnecessary interactions. However, what stirred his suspicion was something else entirely. His men were acting strange—restless, exchanging furtive glances, and clearly uncomfortable. He also noticed the absence of guards at some posts and the evident unease in those who remained. Something was wrong—he knew it.

The bad feeling reached its peak in the early afternoon when the door to his office was flung open unceremoniously.

Silco was seated in his usual chair, facing the window as he applied powder to his scarred skin—a meticulous ritual that was part of his routine. Through the reflection in the small makeup mirror he held, he caught Sevika's stern expression as she strode across the room—a mixture of urgency and something he rarely saw: genuine concern.

"I hope you have a good reason for barging into my office like this." Silco said coldly, not even bothering to look away from the mirror.

"She's gone!"

For a moment, the world seemed to go silent. The sentence reverberated in Silco's mind, carrying a weight he was unwilling to acknowledge immediately. He knew exactly who she was referring to. 

With a sharp snap, he closed the mirror abruptly, the sound reverberating in the room like a whip crack. The restrained anger in his gesture was enough to fracture the object. In one swift motion, he spun the chair around to face Sevika. His eyes widened, blazing with a mixture of shock and fury.

"SHE WHAT?"

Part 8

AUTHOR'S NOTES: After much debate with myself, I realized that I ended up creating a protagonist with small dominant traits, just like Silco. So the dom/sub dynamic becomes even more fun when there are two dominants in the relationship (obviously the protagonist switches more easily between being the sub or the dom than Silco). I intend to address other kinks eventually, so if you want to see something specific, feel free to suggest it. And what about that ending? Did you really think it would be that easy? Are you and Silco living a honeymoon? Not on my watch. I like a good old drama, so you'll see that here.

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[threadbearsweater]

one warm day is all i really need | arthur morgan

When you find yourself taken in by a gang of outlaws, the last thing you expect is to grow sweet on one of them- and have the feelings reciprocated. Arthur Morgan doesn't have time for romantic nonsense, but a few memebers of the gang want to make sure that he gets to indulge in his obvious affection toward you. Tags: 3.9k words, an unlikely romance, meddling gang members (with the purest of intentions, one might suppose); female reader, alcohol use, smoking, emotional smut. A repost from a (regretfully) deactivated blog.

Arthur first notices your eyes on him one evening around the campfire at Shady Belle. He won’t accuse you of staring– Lord knows he’s been known to look at you with the same foolish grin you’re wearing now– but he tips his hat to acknowledge you. The heat in your cheeks is suddenly warmer than what the fire has already provided; your grin only grows until your teeth are showing, and you duck your head into your shoulder to hide. Arthur takes a long swig from his whiskey bottle and grimaces as it goes down. He hasn't had a drop of anything in days, and the burn takes a little while to grow numb to now.

“Think she's sweet on you, Morgan,” Sean says in his Irish lilt, giving Arthur an elbow in the ribs.

“Naw, she's lookin’ at you,” Arthur deflects, though he hopes he's wrong. He thinks he knows.

“She told me last week to keep my eyes on my own work,” Sean continues. “I really don't think it's me she wants, Arthur.”

You turn to whisper something to Sadie, who laughs out loud with her face tilted toward the stars. You dare a glance back at Arthur, who is, in fact, looking at you.

Maybe there's some truth to what Mary Beth told you yesterday.

“Arthur's been awful quiet lately.”

The sun shines through the trees and dapples the table where you're seated with bright spots of pale yellow. It's your third round of dominoes with Mary-Beth, and she's whooping your ass, as usual. You don't know how she does it, but each game you play, you're a little more privy to her prowess.

“You think so? I don't know him as well as you.” You hope it isn't obvious that your heart started beating a little faster at the mention of his name. It leaves you breathless.

“Oh yeah,” Mary-Beth continues. “He's been scratchin’ away in that journal of his a lot more, too.” She leans closer, conspiratorial, her eyes twinkling with the gossip she's about to share. “Karen said he went to town twice last week to have a hot bath. If you knew Arthur like I know Arthur, why…you'd know that's highly out of character for him.”

“But you said he'd been quiet. Is that unusual for him, too?”

She hums and purses her lips. “Well you see, Arthur isn't usually a man of many words on a good day. But it's been real bad lately. He don't even give John a hard time like usual.”

You ponder the dominoes for a moment and then make your move. It doesn't earn you any points, but at least you didn't have to draw. “What do you think the problem is?” you ask, nonchalant as possible.

Mary-Beth smiles. Big and bright and sparkling. “Oh, it's not a problem at all.” She lowers her voice and cups her hand to her mouth. “Arthur's in love.”

You gasp, then giggle behind your hand, and Mary-Beth follows suit. Hosea looks on and shakes his head, so you quiet down, reaching across to grab Mary-Beth's hands. “Who do you think it is?”

Her cheeks are tinted pink, and she looks around to make sure there aren't any ears to hear. Word travels fast around camp if one isn't prudent. “I think it's you.”

A thunderstorm rips through Shady Belle a little over a week later. Your little tent that you share with Sadie is ripped straight off its supports in a terrible gust of wind, and you and the others hightail it inside the house to take cover just as it begins to hail. There's quite a ruckus as everyone huddles inside, windblown and rain-soaked. A few of the men hold up lanterns to illuminate the darkness while you watch the lightning and feel the thunder shake the old bones of the house.

“Everyone just calm down,” Dutch calls, descending the stairs, wearing some ridiculous robe with his arms spread wide. “Are we really gonna let a little old thunderstorm keep us from getting a good night's sleep?”

“Says the man with a bed inside the house,” Arthur bites, rounding the corner from what used to be the kitchen, holding a lantern up high in front of him. “Dutch, you better allow these ladies to take cover in here for tonight, or I'll–”

“Or you'll what, Mister Morgan? Pray tell, what kind of man do you take me for?” Dutch's eyes are fiery as he stares Arthur down; a display of dominance. A veritable cockfight.

Arthur's jaw twitches, but he doesn't back down. “The kind of man I should hope would have some goddamn respect for his family.”

There's a tense moment or two where everyone is quiet, then Dutch relents. “Fine, fine! But I expect everyone out there pitching in to clean up in the morning.” He points at Arthur and raises his voice again. “That includes the other man with a bed inside the house,” he sneers.

Arthur shakes his head, then looks away only to catch sight of you, shivering in your wet undergarments, huddled close to Mary-Beth for what little warmth the two of you can share. For a minute, he forgets to breathe, then composes himself enough to cross the room.

“Come on in here. Get yourself warm and dry by the fire.” His hand on your elbow is rough but warm as he leads you toward the fireplace. You nod and look back at Mary-Beth, who shoos you away with a flick of her wrist and a wink; you notice that her teeth are chattering. Despite the humidity that hangs heavy in the air, the temperature has turned chilly with the storm.

Arms crossed over your bosom to preserve any shred of modesty you might have left, you allow yourself to be led away by Arthur. Dutch and some of the others head upstairs while Charles and Javier keep watch from the front porch.

“You alright?” Arthur asks. He covers your shoulders with one of his heavy winter coats, and you pull it around you, grateful for the weight and warmth of it. Another clap of thunder shakes the house and you jump. Arthur chuckles.

“You laughin’ at me?” you quip, placing your palms flat in the direction of the fireplace. You don't even bother to hide the grin you feel curling on your lips.

“No madam, I am not,” Arthur says earnestly, taking a seat beside you on the old wooden crate he's set up as a makeshift bench.

“Then just what do you find so funny, Mister Morgan?”

He scratches the back of his neck, looking into the flames. “Aw, I dunno. I'm sorry. It's just that you're…”

You bump him with your hip, unable to stop the giggles that bubble up from your chest. “I'm what?” you pry.

There's a clatter of something falling on the front porch, and Arthur uses it as a good excuse to get out of this hole he's dug for himself. “I better go see what's going on out there. Charles might need my help.”

“I'm what, Arthur?!” you call, to no avail. He's gone before he can see the proverbial hearts in your eyes.

The saloon in Rhodes is a little nicer than the ones you visited in Valentine, though it's a far cry from the ones you used to frequent in Saint Denis. Still, when Sadie and the other girls decide that it's high time you have a little fun in town, you throw on your best dress and let Karen curl your hair and even apply a little of the makeup you snagged from a homestead up north. For the first time in months, you feel like a proper woman. There isn't time to be melancholy about the past, though, when the boys start whistling and cat-calling upon the sight of you and the other girls.

“Aw, knock it off!” Sadie hollers. She's decided to dress up a little tonight, too, much to everyone's surprise. But she hikes up her skirts to hop into the wagon, calling for the rest of you all to hurry it up. “I've got a bottle of rum with my name on it that's waiting for me to come drink her all down!”

You catch the sunset on the way to town. It's dazzling over the meadows, all golden light and warm, blazing oranges and reds that settle into a brilliant pink by the time your reach the main road into Rhodes. You wish you could see Arthur's eyes, but he's got a handle on the reins next to Charles in the front of the wagon. You've seen him watching the sunset before; he always looks so peaceful those evenings at camp, and you often wonder what he thinks about in those few minutes before the horizon is painted in pastel hues.

Karen starts singing a song that everyone eventually joins, and before you know it, you're pulling up in front of the Rhodes Parlour House. You can already hear the piano and a few voices from outside; the sound of it stirs something in your soul that makes you long for the familiarity of home, but you quickly shove it aside in favor of the company of your new family.

“Madam.” Arthur's voice brings you out of your thoughts and back into the present, where he waits at the back of the wagon with his hand extended to you. You beam at him, and he feels dizzy. And when your soft hand fits into his, he straightens his knees so they don't buckle and betray him.

“Why, thank you, kind sir,” you say, lifting the hem of your skirts to step out onto the dirt road.

Arthur leans in, dangerously close to your ear. You can smell the whisky and cigarettes on his breath, along with the faint tang of gunpowder and hair pomade. “You sure do look nice in that dress.”

You demure and fan yourself with your hand. “Just how much have you had to drink already tonight?” you giggle.

“Ahh, just a little nip to take the edge off.”

“Mm-hm. Sure, Arthur. Whatever you say.”

The night starts off relatively calm, as most nights do. You and the other girls find an empty table to sit and pick up on the town gossip, and the men start a hand of poker. It grows loud and crowded sometime around midnight, and it's hard to have a conversation without shouting over the din of voices, the clink of glass bottles, and the slow drag ragtime music from the piano. The ambiance is charming and lighthearted, and there are even a few couples drunkenly dancing on the porch.

You push back in your chair and find that when you stand, you're a little more wobbly than you thought you would be. The alcohol has loosened you more than you realize, and you grip the table for support until you feel a firm arm around your waist. “Whoa there.”

It's Arthur, who has won the last round of poker and has come to check in on you and the other ladies. You're pulled tight against his chest for one fleeting moment, and you look up into his eyes. He, too, seems drunk, with his eyes gleaming and drooping at the corners, his smile easy and his cheeks flushed.

“My knight in shining armor,” you slur, pretending to faint in his embrace. He only pulls you tighter against him, both of his broad hands splayed across your back. You laugh, and he smiles.

“You weren't getting another drink, were ya?” he questions with a raise of his brow.

“‘m thirsty,” you whine, lifting your empty glass entirely too close to his face. It knocks against his nose, which sends you into another fit of laughter.

Arthur takes your wrist– gentle but firm– and lowers the glass away. “Think you need to drink something that's not whiskey,” he drawls. You can't help but watch the way his lips form around the words; the slip of his tongue between his teeth, the way his mouth turns up into the hint of a smile when you pout. Before you can think too long and hard about it, you lunge forward and kiss him. Hard and clumsy and impulsive. You don't give him time to react. You're far too involved in the kiss to notice, but the girls at the table behind you have all gone silent. Arthur slides his hand along the side of your face and presses his fingers upon the nape of your neck, kissing you back like he really means it. (He really does.)

You pull back suddenly, breathless and reeling, swiping the back of your hand over your mouth. You're still held firm in his embrace, but the playfulness in his gaze has been replaced with an intensity that makes your knees weak all over again.

“What'd ya do that for?” he asks.

“Could ask you the same thing.”

“Well, you started it.”

“And you finished it.”

“Oh, I ain't finished with you, yet.”

“That a promise or a threat?” Your pulse is thumping wildly in your ears.

“Ya know, they got rooms upstairs for that!” Sadie shouts. There's a ripple of laughter across the table. Arthur's hand on your cheek feels like a brand, his arm about your waist an anchor. The rest of the room comes back to you in a woozy blur, and you look around, a little lovestruck and a whole lot drunk. Arthur's lips at your temple make your eyes flutter shut, and the room fades to black as tIt'weight of you slumps against him. He staggers only slightly, but holds you firm, chuckling softly.

“It's a promise,” he whispers.

You come to some hours later. Your mouth is dry as the desert, your head feels like lead, your skin broken out in a cold, uncomfortable sweat. At some point, it seems you were covered with a downy soft blanket, and the pillow at your head is much more fluffy than the makeshift one you made out of a bedroll at camp. At first, you think you're dreaming. Then, you wonder very briefly if you're back at your childhood home in Saint Denis. You almost call out to your mother when you hear a soft snore from the other side of your bed.

The room spins when you turn your head, and you rub your eyes until Arthur comes into focus. He's sprawled in an armchair a few feet away. His arms are crossed over his chest while his chin is tucked into his chest. Off to the side, you spy his boots; his big toe pokes through a hole in his sock and you smile at how vulnerable he looks.

“Arthur,” you whisper, shifting slightly as you pull the blanket up around your chin.

He grunts and lifts his head slowly. He frowns a little at first, but when he focuses on you lying there, so close he could reach out and kiss you again like he did last night, there's a slow, easy smile that spreads across his face.

“Hey there, party girl. You feeling alright?”

You could kick yourself for all the giggling you've done around him lately, but you can't help it. He brings out something giddy and downright foolish inside you, so you toss a pillow at him and bury your face in the sheets.

“Aw, come on now. I'm just messin’ with ya.” He leans forward and rubs your head affectionately. “I'd say you were feeling pretty good last night.”

It's in that moment a white-hot jolt of sheer panic shoots down your spine. Quickly, you check to make sure you're still wearing clothes. Aside from your breasts being a little lopsided in the confines of your bodice, you're relieved to find that your dress is still intact and– more importantly– on your body. You dare another peek at Arthur and notice that his shirt is unbuttoned down to the middle of his chest and he's discarded his vest somewhere, but he, too, is fully clothed. Thank the good Lord above.

You must've said that last part aloud, because Arthur laughs. “Don't worry, nothing happened. Though it weren't for lack of tryin’ on your part,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “Thought I was gonna have to lock you in here like some feral cat till you settled down.”

Oh. Oh Lord. You try to recall what happened that led you to this room, but all that comes to mind is a lot of loud conversation, some dancing, a spilled drink across Sadie's lap, and Arthur's hand on the side of your cheek. “Oh…”

Now you remember it in vivid detail.

“Didn't know you cared for me like that,” he says. It's earnest and tender, a few shades less intense than the kiss you now recall, the one where it felt like he wanted to eat you alive right there in the middle of the saloon. Now, he thumbs your cheek and looks at you so fondly you swear your heart jumps right up in your throat. “I mean, I'd been hoping. Wasn't sure you was looking for a romance.” He huffs a short sigh, frustrated with himself. “Aw, hell, what am I saying? ‘Course you weren't. You're just looking to survive, just like the rest of us, and here I–”

“Shut up,” you say, taking hold of his hand and tugging him closer. He resists until you pull even harder, watching the fire in your eyes blaze to life. “You talk too much, Yankee.”

“I ain't no damn–”

“Kiss me.”

He's over you in an instant; you're pressed flat against the bed, completely and totally at his mercy. This kiss feels different than the drunken one last night. It's sober and honest, if not a little hesitant, as if he's holding himself back from devouring you wholly. The warmth of his body against yours takes your breath away. Or maybe it's the way his tongue laves heavy into your mouth, unashamed of how badly he craves the taste of you. You grip his hair at the roots and tug him down to kiss him harder, lifting your upper body to meet him until he presses down, his chest flush with yours.

Things get heated quickly.

His mouth moves across your cheek, down your neck, and he groans against your skin, rutting his cock against your thigh. You fleetingly wish that he had managed to get you out of that dress before he presumably tucked you into bed and passed out in that chair, because there’s a whole lot of fabric between you and him that really pisses you off right now. Arthur must feel much the same, because he’s bunching your skirts up past your knees while you’re fumbling with his belt buckle, desperate to feel him against you, inside you. It’s clumsy and crazed, rushed and rough, but you manage somehow to shuck off every last bit of your clothes and his until you’re breathless and so, so eager beneath him.

“Need you now,” you whine. You feel insane. Dizzy and dehydrated, impossibly turned on, every nerve ending on fire when his callused hands grip the fat of your thighs and open you to him.

“Greedy little thing, ain’t ya?” One of his hands slips between your legs to find you wet and swollen. He presses the pad of his thumb against your clit and pushes a finger inside you; the sound you make nearly has him finishing there on the sheets, so he wastes no time in getting himself as close to you as humanly possible.

“Never wanted something so bad,” he murmurs into the dip of your shoulder. He wants all of you– all at once– wants to fuse his hands against your skin and sink himself into you so deep that it would be impossible to tell where he ends and you begin. The heat from his body takes away what little breath you have left, his mouth on each part of your body building the buzz in your chest until you feel like you might just burst open. You grabbed at each other like it was the first and last time you might have this opportunity, as if you wanted more than what the other of you was able to give.

Considering the kind of life you’ve both led so far, it’s a good possibility that you might never get to do this again.

“Give it to me,” you plead, opening yourself further to him, fingers wrapped firm around the base of his cock. “Please.”

Arthur Morgan is a man of incredible strength and self restraint, except when it comes to a woman like you.

There’s nothing gentle about the way he takes you. It’s primal, sweaty, filthy, rough. Arthur pushes as far inside you as he can go, then pushes further when you beg for more. He cups your knees with slick palms and presses you open as far as you can bend; you tug roughly at his hair and bite down on his shoulder when the pleasure builds to a blinding ferocity. The wooden bedframe knocks angrily against the wall with each thrust, but you can’t bring yourself to care if anyone hears. You can’t focus on anything beyond the feeling of him filling you with every stroke of his cock, of the taut, corded muscle in his back and shoulders as you grapple to hang on as tight as you can. Your orgasm hits your hard and fast, and he encourages you through it, taking his time to give you long, controlled strokes. It’s as pleasurable for him as it is for you. “‘Atta girl,” he rasps, lips moving against your ear. Your hand flies to your mouth to muffle your cries, but he pulls it away and threads his fingers with yours, pressing it onto the pillow. “I wanna hear it.”

Your moans are what drive him over the edge.

He buries his face against the side of your neck, panting heavily as he comes, driving into you so hard that you can almost feel the mattress beneath you begin to sag under the weight. You cradle his head in your hands and link your legs around his waist, boneless and languid in the aftermath of your own pleasure. When he moves, you move with him, riding out the waves together until you’re both too tired to move another muscle.

Neither of you speak for a while. He lies on his back with an arm around your shoulders while you curl against him, tuned into his heartbeat and swirling little patterns into the hair on his chest. It’s comforting to feel him next to you, to watch his chest rise and fall as he steadies his breathing, to soak up the warmth of his skin against yours.

You’re the first to break the silence. “Did everyone else go back to camp last night?”

Arthur nods slowly. “Something tells me they planned all this.”

“Planned it? You mean…” You lift your arm slowly and flick your wrist to acknowledge the room you’re laying in. “This?” You lift your chin and grin at him. “Or getting us together?”

“Room was paid for before I even had a chance to ask if they had one,” he explains. “Think it was Mrs. Adler.”

You vaguely recall her shouting something about a room after you kissed Arthur last night, and you shake your head. “You complaining?”

He turns to his side, draping an arm across your hip. “Me? Never.” You’re suddenly pressed beneath him once again; from the looks of it, you won’t be getting out of this bed anytime soon. “Specially when I’ve got you here to help me keep warm.”

[redroomreflections]

With The Roses - Her Best Secret 2

1950s Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha and R are having an affair. - they get to spend a night together

Note: I wrote this after watching Mother's Instinct with Anne Hathway and Jessica Chastain. I needed to make it gay. I don't know what this is truly but it's here.

Warnings: Smut and fluff and angst - there's a bit of panic =)

w/c: 7k

The sun was high, and the air was humid as you walked down the street toward your neighbor's house. Claire was having a girl's day with your mother, and Sam and Steve were away on one of their fishing trips. The house felt too big and quiet, so your feet naturally led you to Natasha’s. The sight that greeted you stopped you in your tracks. There she was, Natasha Romanoff, tending to her rose garden in the front yard, utterly absorbed in her work. She was sporting a crisp white blouse tucked into her black slacks. A sun visor perched on her head as she leaned down to inspect a blooming rose. She snipped away at the stems with small pruning shears.

You didn't call out to her immediately, enjoying the rare moment of seeing her so at peace. Her hair was tied back into a neat bun, with a few loose strands sticking to the nape of her neck with sweat. She hummed softly, a tune you couldn't quite place, as she moved to the next bush.

"Staring's rude, you know," She finally said, without even turning around.

"Well, I'm just enjoying the view," You said without thinking. Natasha smirked, though you couldn't see her face. "The roses are beautiful."

Natasha straightened up, turning to face you with an amused expression. Her cheeks were flushed, likely from the heat, and a faint sheen of sweat was on her brow. Even in the humid air, she looked as effortlessly composed as ever.

“They are,” she agreed, arching an eyebrow. “Though I have a feeling that’s not all you were looking at.”

You felt your face heat up, and you tried to play it off with a laugh. “Guilty as charged. But really, the roses are stunning.”

She smirked, her green eyes sparkling in the sunlight. “Nice save.”

You stepped closer, leaning slightly against her yard's white picket fence. “You’ve got quite the green thumb, huh? I don’t know how you keep them alive in this heat.”

Natasha shrugged, slipping off her gloves and tossing them into her wicker basket. “Patience. A little care goes a long way.” Her gaze flicked over to you. “Kind of like friendships.”

You tilted your head, smiling softly. “Is that your subtle way of telling me I don’t visit enough?”

She chuckled, pulling the sun visor off her head and running a hand over her hair. “Maybe. But you’re here now, and I’ll take what I can get.”

“Well, I was feeling lonely,” you admitted, looking down at your feet for a moment before glancing back up at her. “Claire’s with my mother today. They've gone down to do a little shopping and to get tea."

Natasha’s expression softened. She gestured toward her house with a nod of her head. “Come on inside. I just made some lemonade. The perfect excuse to take a break from this heat.”

She turned and headed toward the front porch. You followed behind her, admiring the way her slacks hugged her shapely legs and backside. Your mind drifted to the first time you had seen her in her pants. You had been unable to stop your eyes from trailing over her body, her curves barely contained by her tight clothes. Natasha was a modern woman. She was everything you wished you could be. Not too long ago, you couldn't tell whether you wanted to be with her or be her.

In the kitchen, Natasha handed you a glass of lemonade, the ice clinking as it settled. You murmured a quiet “thanks” before taking a sip. The tartness was perfectly balanced with sweetness, and it helped you cool down. Natasha leaned against the counter, her gaze casually following yours as you scanned the room.

It was quiet there too. Your attention snagged on the stack of books on the table. The covers were worn, and the spines creased from countless reads. Titles like East of Eden by John Steinbeck, Peyton Place by Grace Metalious, and The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger caught your eye.

“You read a lot,” you said, gesturing toward the books as you set your glass on a coaster.

Natasha followed your gaze and smiled. “Guilty as charged. It’s how I unwind.”

You picked up East of Eden, running your fingers over the aged cover. “These are good choices. Heavy, but good.”

“I like a story that makes me think,” she said, tilting her head slightly. “But I also like a little drama. Something juicy enough to make me forget about the world for a while.”

“Peyton Place fits that bill,” you quipped, flipping through its pages.

Natasha chuckled, her voice warm and rich. “It does. Small-town secrets and scandal? What’s not to love?”

You glanced up, catching her watching you with a soft smile. Her red hair was coming loose from the bun, a few strands framing her face. Her tight white blouse clung to her form, and you could not resist letting your gaze linger for a moment longer than it should.

Natasha noticed—of course, she saw—but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she walked over, brushing past you to pick up another book from the pile. Her perfume lingered, a mix of roses and something earthy, grounding.

“You should borrow one,” she offered, holding the book out to you. “Unless you’re more of a magazine person.”

You smirked, taking the book from her hands. “I think I can handle a real novel, thank you very much.”

Natasha held up her hands in surrender, chuckling. "Alright, I’ll behave."

You glanced at the book she’d handed you, The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway. Your fingers traced the embossed title on the cover, appreciating the texture of the paper.

"What a striking title," you murmured. "You do have an eye for fine books, Nat."

She smiled, her green eyes sparkling. "It’s a favorite of mine. You’d enjoy it, I think."

"How’s little Claire-bear?" Natasha asked, shifting the conversation with ease.

"She’s quite the spitfire," you replied, unable to hold back a smile. "Though she’s been picking up words, I’d rather she didn’t. I told her I’d wash her mouth with soap if she tried them again."

Natasha chuckled, her laugh as soft as the breeze. "Children do have a way of testing boundaries. I imagine Sam isn’t much help with discipline."

You rolled your eyes, though your tone was fond. "He’s utterly hopeless. She’s got him wrapped around her little finger. ‘Daddy’s Little Girl’ and all that."

"Well," Natasha said, raising a brow, "it sounds like you’ve your hands full."

You hesitated, tracing the condensation on your lemonade glass. "I’ve been glancing at the classifieds lately," you admitted your voice a touch hesitant.

Natasha leaned forward slightly. "Oh? Are you considering a position somewhere?"

"Yes, though Sam doesn’t see the point. He keeps saying we’re managing fine, but it’s not about the money. I just... I feel as though I need something of my own."

Natasha frowned, her lips pressing together briefly. "And what’s his argument, exactly?"

You sighed. "It’s still the 1950s, Nat. No matter how modern things are becoming, people expect women to keep the house running while their husbands provide. It’s not as though I don’t understand it—it’s just..."

"It’s just not what you want," Natasha finished for you gently.

You nodded, the tension easing slightly under her understanding gaze.

"You deserve more," Natasha said firmly. "If there’s one thing I know, it’s that a woman who follows her heart is never truly out of step with the times."

You chuckled, her words both comforting and inspiring. "Thanks, Nat. You always know what to say."

"Anytime," she replied with a warm smile. "If Sam needs a nudge in the right direction, just say the word."

"Do I seem ungrateful?" You questioned. "Sam provides well; he is good to me, and I have everything a woman could ask for."

"Except the right to choose for yourself," Natasha remarked.

"Yes," you sighed. "I can't explain it, but something is missing. Like a piece of myself that I've yet to find."

Natasha hummed, her eyes scanning over your features. You held her gaze for a moment before shifting the conversation.

"You know," you began, tilting your head, "you never talk about you and Steve."

Natasha’s brows lifted slightly, caught off guard by your remark. She recovered quickly, though, leaning back in her chair with a shrug. "There’s not much to say."

"Nat," you said pointedly, giving her a look. "That’s not true, and you know it. You’re always checking in on me, listening to my endless rants, offering advice, but you never let me return the favor."

Natasha’s lips curved into a faint smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "I don’t mean to keep things from you. It’s just complicated."

"That’s not an excuse," you countered gently. "You’re my friend, Nat. I care about you, just like you care about me. Why not let me in for once?"

She hesitated, her fingers brushing against the rim of her glass. "Steve’s a good man," she said finally, her voice measured. "But sometimes... sometimes I wonder if being with me is best for him."

You frowned, your heart aching at the vulnerability in her tone. "Why would you think that? Anyone would be lucky to have you."

Natasha let out a soft laugh, though it was filled with bitterness. "I’m not exactly the ideal woman, am I? I’ve got too many rough edges and too much baggage. Steve deserves someone uncomplicated, someone who fits neatly into his world. Someone feminine. I'm not a homemaker. I can't cook but a few dishes. The roses are the only thing I can keep alive."

The silence that followed was thick with unspoken words. Natasha shifted, the weight of the conversation settling between you both. She looked down at her glass, her fingers tapping lightly against the rim. Her lips parted as if she was about to say something but quickly closed again, unsure of how to continue.

"He's lucky to have you as a wife," you said, trying to break the tension. "You're smart, witty, and a great listener. You've got the sharpest tongue and a killer sense of style. Steve couldn't have asked for a better match."

"It's not the same," she insisted, her eyes meeting yours. "He doesn't need someone like me. He needs a woman to run a household and keep his parents happy. Someone who doesn't enjoy sex with women."

You blinked, startled by the last bit. Natasha was staring at you, her expression guarded. You felt the sudden urge to reach out and reassure her, but you didn't know how.

"I'm not sure what you mean," you said carefully. "Are you saying that you and Steve don't—"

"No," Natasha interrupted. "I'm not saying that. But our sex life is... complicated. I enjoy sex with him, but I also enjoy sex with other women. It's not something he can understand."

Your cheeks flushed as her words sunk in. The air seemed to crackle between you both, charged with tension. Natasha was still watching you, waiting for your reaction. You didn't know what to say. You'd never given much thought to other women before her.

"The postman is here," Natasha said, suddenly standing and heading to the window. It was her way of pulling away from the conversation. She tended to do that a lot. "Let's see if we've gotten anything interesting today."

She didn't wait for your reply before stepping outside, the screen door shutting behind her. You watched her walk down the front steps, her posture perfectly poised. She spoke to the postman briefly before heading back toward the house, a stack of envelopes in hand. You stood, clearing your throat as she came inside.

"Let's see," Natasha murmured, sorting through the mail. "Bills, bills, more bills... oh, and this must be the latest copy of Vogue."

She pulled out a magazine, its cover featuring a stunning model wearing an elegant evening gown. You glanced at the cover, admiring the sleek design.

"Looks like I'm not the only one who loves fashion," you teased, giving her a knowing smile. She stacked the mail on the foyer table.

"There's nothing wrong with wanting to look good," Natasha said, a faint smile curving her lips.

You hesitated, the words spilling from your lips. "Do you want to go out?"

Natasha raised a brow, surprised by your suggestion. "Like a date?"

"Yeah," you said, shrugging. "We could get a bite to eat or go dancing."

"Oh, honey," Natasha said with a soft chuckle, leaning against the table's edge as she folded her arms. "You know it can’t be a date."

"I know," you said quickly, feeling a slight flush creep up your cheeks. "I didn’t mean it like that. I just thought..." You trailed off, fumbling for the words. "Well, I just thought maybe we could spend some time together. But if it’s too much, forget I said anything."

Natasha’s smile softened, her green eyes warm. "Now, don’t go putting words in my mouth," she said lightly. "I didn’t say no. I just think stepping out together might turn a few heads. Folks around here love a bit of gossip."

"True enough," you said with a small laugh, nodding in agreement. "The neighborhood grapevine’s quicker than a telephone line."

"Exactly," Natasha said, her tone playful but with a hint of caution. She paused for a moment, tilting her head thoughtfully. "But who says we can’t make a night of it here? I’ve got a good bottle of wine in the kitchen and more records than I can count. No need for all the hullabaloo."

You raised a brow, your lips curving into a smile. "So, you’d rather keep me hidden in your house than be seen with me in public?"

Natasha smirked, grabbing the stack of mail and heading toward the kitchen. "Something like that. Besides, I think you’d enjoy the songs I’ve been spinning lately."

"Oh, now I’m curious," you teased, following her. "What kind of tunes are we talking about?"

"Only the best," Natasha replied, glancing over her shoulder with a twinkle in her eye. "But you’ll have to stick around to find out."

"Fair enough," you said, feeling a warmth spread through you. Spending a quiet evening with Natasha, just the two of you, felt more inviting than any night out.

********

Hours later, you found yourself back at Natasha’s house, taking note of the sun setting as your cue. You’d taken your time getting ready, selecting an outfit that was comfortable and flattering. It wasn’t overly fussy—Natasha would never expect that—but you wanted to look your best for her.

You’d even dabbed on your favorite shade of lipstick, which always made you feel more confident. And for good measure, you pinned your hair up, remembering how Natasha once mentioned how much she liked the style on you. Her words had stayed with you, playing on repeat in the quieter corners of your mind.

As you climbed the steps to her porch, the soft glow of light spilling through the windows made the house feel welcoming, almost magical in the dusk. You smoothed your skirt one last time and knocked, your heart picking up a rhythm that felt both ridiculous and exhilarating.

When the door opened, Natasha stood in a simple yet elegant outfit—a soft sweater and slacks that looked effortlessly chic. She gave you a once-over, her lips curving into a small, approving smile.

"You clean up nice," she said, stepping aside to let you in.

"You don’t look so bad yourself," you quipped, though your tone betrayed how much you meant it.

The house smelled faintly of roses, and the faint crackle of a record player filled the air with a familiar melody. Natasha led you into the living room, where a small table had been set with two glasses and the bottle of wine she’d mentioned earlier.

"You didn’t have to go to so much trouble," you said, taking it all in.

"It’s not trouble," she replied, her voice warm. "I just figured if we’re staying in, we might as well make it nice."

You couldn’t help but smile at that, feeling a little flutter in your chest. Natasha always had a way of making the simplest moments feel extraordinary.

"Here," she said, holding up the bottle. "I think it's best to start with a toast."

She poured the wine, and you each took a glass, clinking them together before taking a sip. The wine was smooth and rich, warming your throat as you swallowed.

"Good choice," you murmured, admiring the deep red color.

"Only the best," she repeated, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"So," you said, glancing around the room. "What song did you have in mind?"

"Ah," Natasha said, nodding. "Let me put on the record, and you'll see."

She crossed the room, and as the music began to play, your eyes widened.

"Oh, I love this one," you exclaimed. "Billie Holiday is a gem!"

Natasha smiled, the look in her eyes softening as the music filled the room. "She's a favorite of mine. This particular song always reminds me of a dear friend. A girl, actually. We used to dance together when we were younger."

Her voice was full of affection, and you imagined a young Natasha swept up in the arms of a girl, their bodies pressed close as they moved together to the music. You swallowed, trying to ignore the pang of jealousy in your belly.

"Did she mean a lot to you?" You asked, trying to keep your tone casual.

Natasha laughed, her eyes sparkling. "We had some fun times. Truthfully, she was always a bit too wild for my taste."

"Oh," You nodded.

"Are you jealous?"

"No," you said, shaking your head. "Just surprised.”

Natasha grinned, her lips parting slightly as if she was going to say something, but instead, she walked over and held out her hand.

"Dance with me."

You stared at her, surprised. You didn't know what to say, and your heart was racing.

"Dance with me," Natasha repeated, her voice softer now.

Slowly, you took her hand, feeling the warmth of her skin against yours. She drew you close, wrapping her arm around your waist, and you followed her lead. Your bodies swayed to the music, the rhythm guiding you both. You and Natasha had never danced this close before. You'd never had this moment of intimacy with her. All of your meetings before this were guided by hurriedness and practicality. There was always a purpose—a reason—for your time together, whether it was helping with her garden, sharing a quick cup of coffee, or catching up about your families. But this moment was different. There was no rush, no task to complete, no excuse to look away.

The world outside her cozy living room slowly faded, leaving just the two of you. Natasha’s hand rested firmly but tenderly against the small of your back, her touch grounding you in a way you hadn’t expected.

"You’re a natural," she murmured, her breath brushing against your ear.

You let out a soft laugh, a little embarrassed but unable to tear your gaze away from her. "I’m just following your lead."

Her lips twitched into a faint smile that softened her typically sharp features. "You make it look effortless."

You couldn’t tell if she was talking about the dancing or something else entirely, but the weight of her words wrapped around you just the same. The space between you was almost nonexistent now, and you were hyper-aware of every place her body met yours—the press of her breasts against yours, the warmth of her breath, the brush of her thighs against yours. You knew it was wrong to feel this way, but you couldn’t deny how good it felt.

You couldn’t deny how much you wanted her.

As the song ended, you remained close, neither willing to break the spell.

"This is nice," Natasha muttered. "Being here with you like this."

You hummed in agreement, her words sending a shiver down your spine.

"I can't believe you've been here this long and I haven't kissed you," She said.

"Natasha," you whispered.

"What is it?" She asked.

"Kiss me."

She didn't need to be told twice.

Her lips met yours, her kiss tender and firm, and you melted into her. It was unlike any other kiss you'd experienced, and you wanted more. You parted your lips, deepening the kiss, and she responded in kind, her tongue meeting yours in a slow, languid rhythm.

You were lost in the sensation, the taste of her, the scent of her perfume, the softness of her skin. You couldn't think straight. Your whole body was buzzing with desire, and the only thing you could focus on was her.

"You always taste so sweet,"

"Mmm, it's just my lipstick," you said with a soft laugh.

"It's more than that," she countered, her fingers tracing the curve of your jaw. "It's you."

Her words made your heart skip a beat, and you could feel yourself getting flushed.

"Nat," You murmured.

"Yes?" She asked, her gaze locking with yours.

"I love being here with you.” 

Her expression shifted, a mix of emotions playing across her face. Surprise, desire, and something else, something softer. Somehow, she figured that’s not what you were going to say. 

"I love being here with you too.” 

And with that, she captured your lips in another searing kiss. You both knew there was no turning back now. You were each other's, and nothing could ever change that.

"We haven’t had dinner," She whispered. "I cooked for you. Um, brisket. It's in the oven."

"It's perfect," you breathed, the two of you stumbling to the couch. "Everything's perfect."

"Well," Natasha said, her eyes dancing with amusement. "I wouldn't go that far."

"Take a compliment," you replied, a playful edge in your voice.

She smiled, leaning in to capture your lips once more. As the kisses grew heated, her hands began exploring your body, her touch igniting a fire within you. You were burning up with need; she was the only thing to quench the flames.

You couldn't resist reaching for her, pulling her close as your kisses became desperate and hungry. The heat between you was undeniable, and you were both lost in the moment.

"Can I touch you here?" Natasha asked as her hand raised to rest along your breast. It was an interesting question, considering she'd touched you in far worse places. You nodded.

She was careful and gentle, as if afraid to scare you away.

"Don't stop," You said, breathless, as she cupped your breast and rolled your nipple between her fingers.

You could feel yourself getting wet, the ache between your legs growing more intense. Natasha was relentless, her touch firm but tender, and you were drowning in the sensations.

"Please, Nat," you begged, not sure what exactly you were asking for, but you needed her more than anything.

"Shhh," She cooed. "Let me take care of you."

She began kissing down your neck, her tongue tracing the line of your collarbone. You gasped, your body responding to her touch as if it was made for her.

"I'm glad you wore a dress tonight," She said, her voice low and husky. "It makes things so much easier."

Before you could respond, she was lifting your skirt, exposing your thighs. She traced a path with her fingers, slowly making her way up. She took note of your lack of stockings and garter.

"Oh, no undergarments?" She teased. "You naughty thing."

Your face was hot as she slid her hand between your legs, her fingers teasing at your entrance. You couldn't hold back a moan, the pleasure too intense.

"Is this okay?" She asked, her touch light and deliberate.

"Yes," You gasped, your hips rocking against her hand.

She bit her lip, watching your facial expressions and chest heaving.

"I want to try something," She bit her lip. "If you're okay with it."

"Anything," You moaned.

She smiled and removed her fingers, placing them in her mouth. You could only stare, transfixed, as she licked them clean.

"You taste even sweeter down here," she said, her tone full of mischief. She dropped to her knees and, without another word, buried her face between your legs.

"Oh," you whimpered, feeling her tongue lick a long stripe over your sex. She hummed against your skin, sending vibrations through you.

"You like that?" She asked, looking up at you with hooded eyes.

"Yes," You breathed, barely able to form the word. Based on your responses, she could tell this was your first experience with a person's mouth there.

She was unrelenting, her tongue finding every spot that made you cry out and then some. The sounds coming from her were positively sinful, and they only added to the pleasure building within you. You were lost in the feeling, unable to do anything but let go and surrender to the waves of ecstasy crashing over you.

Your orgasm hit you hard, and you cried out, gripping the cushions beneath you. Natasha's grip tightened on your thighs as she helped you ride out the aftershocks.

"How was that?" She asked, a self-satisfied grin on her face.

You could only stare at her, completely speechless.

"That good, huh?" She chuckled, licking her lips.

"More," You demanded, your voice hoarse.

Natasha was happy to oblige until a distinct smell came into the air.

"Something's burning," You said, alarmed.

"Shit," Natasha exclaimed, leaping up and running toward the kitchen.

You followed her, quickly taking the pan out of the oven and opening a window.

"Damn it," Natasha cursed, looking down at the charred brisket. "I was so distracted, I forgot about dinner."

"It's alright," You reassured her. "The important thing is that we're together."

She smiled, the expression warming her features. "I couldn't agree more."

"We should eat something," You said.

"I'm not sure there's anything edible left," she joked.

"I can make some sandwiches," you suggested, not wanting the night to end. You looked over at Natasha's face. Her lipstick was smudged, and her hair was a mess. You couldn't help but giggle at the sight.

"What?" Natasha asked, looking at you.

"Nothing," you said, grinning. You reached across you to wipe her mouth. "Was it enjoyable for you to do that? It seemed awfully one-sided."

Natasha blushed. "I enjoyed it."

You gave her a coy look, feeling brave.

"Do you want me to... um... return the favor?"

Natasha swallowed hard, her gaze locked on yours. You could see the desire burning in her eyes. She leaned forward to kiss you, but you hesitated.

"What?"

"Is it proper for us to kiss after?" You asked. "I mean, you did just..."

Natasha grinned, shaking her head. "Nothing about what we did is proper. "

"Then why do we bother doing it?" You asked.

"Because it's fun," Natasha replied, her voice low and seductive. "And because I'm selfish. I want to see how far we can go before the neighbors start to gossip."

You couldn't help but laugh at that, your heart racing at her boldness. You leaned in and kissed her, the taste of you on her lips sending a thrill through you.

"To the bedroom," She said, standing and pulling you with her.

"But what about the sandwiches?"

"Screw the sandwiches," Natasha said, her expression dark with desire. "I want to fuck you."

You felt a flush spread across your cheeks, and a rush of heat flooded your core.

"Then take me," you breathed, wanting her more than anything.

The two of you made your way to her room, an unfamiliar room. You'd never been in her bedroom before. There was no reason to be, considering. She was a very private person. But now, you were both ready to take this relationship to the next level.

Once inside, she wasted no time in pulling you close, her hands exploring your body as she kissed you deeply. You could feel her urgency, her need, and it fueled your own.

"Let me undress you," she murmured, her breath warm against your ear.

"Natasha, let me spoil you," you insisted, wanting to repay the favor. "You deserve."

She didn't protest this time. Instead, she simply nodded, a small smile curving her lips. You stepped back, allowing her to watch as you slowly stripped off your dress.

"Beautiful," she breathed, her gaze lingering on your bare breasts.

You blushed, feeling self-conscious under her scrutiny.

"Don't be shy," she said, her tone soothing. "You're perfect."

You couldn't help but smile at her praise, and you were suddenly filled with renewed confidence.

You stepped toward her, reaching for the hem of her sweater. You lifted it slowly, exposing her smooth skin.

She wasn't wearing a bra, and her breasts were just as perfect as the rest of her. You couldn't resist running your hands over them, feeling her nipples harden beneath your touch.

"You're amazing," you whispered, kissing her.

She responded eagerly, her lips parting to allow your tongue entrance.

The kiss quickly heated, and you pushed her back toward the bed. You both fell onto the soft sheets, your bodies tangled together.

Natasha was the one to break the kiss, her green eyes dark with lust.

"I want to do what you did to me in the den," You blushed. "I've never done that before. Will you show me how you like it?"

Natasha was more than happy to oblige. She lifted to remove her pants and underwear. Then, she laid back and spread her legs, allowing you to get a good look at her.

She was glistening with arousal, and the sight was almost enough to make you come right then and there.

"Go ahead," she encouraged, her voice low and husky. "Taste me."

You bit your lip, leaning in and pressing against her center. It was a simple kiss, one that garnered a weak expression. She was being patient with you. Her scent was intoxicating. Musky and uniquely her.

"Again," She urged gently. "But, harder."

You did as she said, putting more pressure behind the kiss. You could feel her body tense, her breathing growing heavier.

"More," she pleaded. "Use your tongue."

You obeyed, flicking your tongue against her, causing her to moan softly.

"Oh, fuck," she gasped, her hips bucking against your mouth.

"Is that okay?" You asked, worried you were doing something wrong.

"More than okay," she assured you, her hand resting on your head. "Just keep going." She directed your head where she wanted it, and you happily complied.

"Yes," she groaned, her grip tightening. "Just like that."

Her sounds were intoxicating, and you found yourself getting more and more turned on by her reactions. Recalling where her tongue had taken you, you decided to try something new.

You puckered your lips and suckled the sensitive bud there, earning a loud moan from Natasha.

"That's it," she gasped, her back arching off the bed. "Keep going."

You continued the motion, alternating between sucking and flicking your tongue. Her taste was addictive, and you couldn't get enough of it.

"I'm close," she warned, her voice strained. "Don't stop."

You picked up the pace, wanting to bring her to the edge. You could feel her body tensing, her breathing becoming ragged. You appreciated the fact that she could tell you how she felt, as this form of sex was not a common practice.

Suddenly, her body went rigid, and a cry tore from her lips. Her release was intense, her muscles clenching and releasing in waves.

You kept going, wanting to draw out her pleasure for as long as possible. She was breathtaking like this, lost in the throes of ecstasy. You'd never seen anything so beautiful.

As her body finally began to relax, you slowed your movements, bringing her down from her high. You rested your head against her thigh and waited for her.

"Come here," she said, her voice shaky.

You crawled up her body, meeting her lips in a deep kiss.

"That was incredible," she murmured, a lazy smile across her face. "Not bad for your first time."

"I had a good teacher," you replied, returning her smile. You slipped under the sheets. 

"And a very willing student," she teased.

You settled into her arms, both of you content and satisfied.

"Sex with you is," You began.

"Incredible?" She smirked.

"It is, but also... it's just so easy," you explained. "Being with you is like breathing."

Natasha didn't speak but drew you closer, kissing gently on your temple.

"I'm learning so much," You continued. "Thank you for letting me explore with you."

Natasha's expression softened, and she leaned in to kiss you, slow and tender.

"You're welcome," she whispered, her voice full of affection."Why do you do that?" She questioned.

"Do what?" You asked, unsure what she was referring to.

"Hide from me," She said, her gaze trailing over your bare skin. "There's no need. Not here."

You swallowed, not knowing how to respond.

"I've had a child," You answered. "My body isn't as..."

"It's perfect," She interrupted. "Just like the rest of you."

She was right, you decided. Why should you hide from her? After all, she had seen you in all your naked glory. It was only fair that you returned the favor.

Slowly, you emerged from beneath the sheets, letting her look her fill.

"Beautiful," she murmured, her eyes filled with desire. "Absolutely beautiful."

"Come here," She instructed, holding out her arms.

You obliged, crawling into her embrace. Her lips met yours, and the kiss quickly grew heated.

You found yourself straddling her, her hands exploring your body, and the ache between your legs intensified. You wanted her, needed her.

"Please," you whispered, desperate for her touch.

"Tell me what you want," she said, her voice low and husky.

"You," you replied, unable to articulate more than that.

"Then you shall have me," she said, rolling the two of you so she was on top.

"How would you like to come this time?" She asked, her hands cupping your breasts.

"Whatever you want," You answered, eager to give yourself to her.

She chuckled, her lips curling into a devilish grin. "Then we're in for a long night."

And with that, she proceeded to show you exactly how many times a woman could orgasm in a single night.

By the end, you were utterly spent, your body exhausted and sated. You lay against the pillows, your eyes closed, trying to catch your breath.

Natasha was curled around you, her body pressed against yours, her head resting on your shoulder.

"I could stay here forever," She said, her voice sleepy.

"Me too," You agreed, your own eyes heavy. "I should probably go home soon."

"What if you didn't?" She suggested, her fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin.

"What do you mean?" You asked, confused.

"What if you stayed here with me?" She elaborated, her words slow and deliberate.

"It's risky," You sighed. "If anyone found out—"

"I know," She interrupted, her tone soft. "But we've been doing a good job keeping this a secret. No one suspects anything. Besides, I can't bear the thought of not having you by my side tonight."

You considered her words, your heart pounding in your chest. It was true; the two of you had been careful. And, you had to admit, spending the night in her arms was tempting.

"Okay," You finally said, making up your mind. "I'll stay."

Natasha's smile lit up her face, and she kissed you, her lips warm and soft.

"Good," she said, her eyes sparkling. "Because I can't get enough of you."

***********

You stood by the armchair, slipping back into your heels quickly. The soft sound of your dress fabric brushing against your legs filled the quiet room. Natasha sat on the edge of the sofa, still in her robe, nursing a cup of coffee that smelled rich and inviting.

"Leaving so soon?" she asked, her tone casual but her eyes sharp, observing every movement you made.

You gave her a fleeting smile, smoothing out the creases in your dress. "Claire’s coming home soon. She spent the night with my mother, but you know how she gets—she’s practically attached to my hip.”

"Mm," Natasha hummed, sipping her coffee.

"They’ll be back soon, too," you said, avoiding her gaze as you adjusted your earring. The rush in your movements betrayed the careful calm in your voice.

Natasha set her cup down, leaning forward slightly. "You’re in a hurry," she noted, her voice softer now, almost teasing but edged with something more. "Do you regret our night together?"

You froze for a split second, feeling her words settle uncomfortably in the air. You knew you shouldn’t feel guilty. You hadn’t done anything wrong—or had you? Shaking off the thought, you reached for your purse.

"I just don’t want to raise any questions," you said, your tone light. "It’s nothing."

Natasha’s voice followed you, stopping you in your tracks. "Do you think about it?"

You turned to face her, her words catching you off guard. "Think about what?"

Her green eyes stayed on yours, steady and unflinching. "What it would’ve been like if things were different. If we were different."

You blinked, caught in her gaze, the question hanging in the air. "Natasha," you began, trying to find the words. "I—"

"It's alright," she said, her lips quirking up. "I understand. We have our responsibilities. And, besides, some things can't be changed, no matter how hard we wish they could."

Her words cut through you, and you felt a wave of sadness.

"I'm sorry," You sighed. "I enjoyed my night with you. I really did."

"I know," She reassured. "So did I. We should do it again sometime." She opened her arms for a hug.

"I would love that," You answered. She breathed in your scent, smelling herself all over your body, and hummed.

"The idea of him touching you makes me crazy," she murmured. "But I also love smelling my scent on you. I bet he wouldn't be able to do a quarter of what I did to you last night."

It's the first time you've heard her be so possessive. Your breath caught in your throat at her words.

"It's only fair," She continued. "You should have let me mark you."

You felt a surge of arousal course through you at her words but also a flicker of unease. It was dangerous territory, the two of you getting so attached.

"We have to be careful," You warned, though it was the last thing you wanted. "Someone could find out."

"Would it be so bad if they did?" Natasha knew she was being reckless, but she didn't care. All she cared about was you. She nuzzled her nose into your neck.

"Natasha," You protested, your resolve weakening. "We can't."

"Yes, we can," She said, her voice low and seductive. "Just think about it, being with me every day, sharing our lives."

It was tempting, but you knew it was impossible. "It would never work," You said, trying to sound firm, but the words came out sad.

Natasha’s brows furrowed as she pulled back slightly, her piercing gaze locking onto yours. "Why wouldn’t it work?" she challenged, her voice steady, though there was a hint of frustration beneath it.

"Because it’s not just about us," you admitted, your hands trembling as you stepped away, needing space to think clearly. "I’m scared, Natasha. Scared of what this... of what you make me feel."

"Scared?" Natasha repeated, her tone sharp now, almost incredulous. "What’s there to be scared of? Isn’t it scarier to stay in something that doesn’t make you happy?"

You shook your head, your voice cracking as you tried to explain. "It’s not that simple. I love Sam. He’s a good man. And I don’t want to hurt him—or Steve."

Her jaw tightened, and for a moment, she looked away, exhaling deeply. "You should have thought about that before," she said quietly, her words cutting like a knife.

"I know," you replied, guilt heavy in your chest. "And maybe... maybe that’s why we need to cool down. This—whatever this is—it’s too much, Nat. It’s moving too fast, and I... I could lose Claire."

Natasha blinked, clearly taken aback. "Lose Claire?" she repeated, her voice filled with disbelief. "That’s ridiculous. Sam would never take her away from you."

"You don’t understand," you said, your voice rising as panic bubbled. "You can’t understand because you don’t have children. You don’t know what it’s like to have your entire life revolve around them, to know that one wrong move could take them away from you."

The words hung in the air, heavy and biting. Natasha’s face hardened a flicker of hurt, crossing her features before she masked it. "You think I wouldn’t understand?" she asked, her voice quieter now but no less intense.

"I didn’t mean it like that," you said quickly, regret pooling in your stomach.

"But you did," she countered, stepping closer, her gaze uncompromising. "You think because I don’t have children because I can’t have children, that I wouldn’t understand what it means to love someone so much it scares you?"

You froze, her words hitting you like a punch to the gut. "Natasha, I—"

"Don’t," she interrupted, her voice thick with emotion. "You’re scared, fine. But don’t you dare stand there and tell me I don’t understand love? That’s the one thing I do understand."

The room fell silent. Natasha’s breathing was steady but labored, as though she was holding back everything she wanted to say.

"I’m sorry," you whispered, your voice breaking. "I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m just... I’m trying to do the right thing."

She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. "The right thing? For who? For Sam? For Steve? When do you start doing the right thing for yourself?" Natasha sniffled. "You're right." She said. "You should go home and prepare for Sam."

"Natasha," you started, but she held up her hand.

You stood there, conflicted, unsure of how to proceed when she moved towards you. For a moment, it seemed like she was going to say something more, but instead, she reached out, cupping your cheek with a tenderness that surprised you.

"You're a good friend," She murmured. She placed a final kiss on your lips before pulling back. "I suppose you can see your way out."

She turned and walked down the hall, leaving you alone.

You stared after her, feeling the ache in your chest grow, and tried to ignore the sense of loss that was settling in.

You told yourself that you were doing the right thing, even as tears spilled down your cheeks. It was the right thing.

And yet, as you walked out the door and headed home, you couldn't help but feel like a part of you had stayed behind.

[hees-mine]

Birthday girl - L. Heeseung

Pairing: heeseung X fem reader

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, alcohol consumption, multiple orgasms, cursing, stepcest, daddy kink, dirty talk, cheating.

Genre: 18+, stepcest.

Word count: 2k+

Decided to just post the full story here cause it got taken down on Patreon :/

-

“Mom, just one, please. I promise it’ll only be one.” It was your 21st birthday, and you celebrated in the kitchen with your mom and your stepdad as you begged her to let you have your first shot on the day you officially turned 21.

“No, I never had a shot at 21,” she simply answers, turning away from you and putting away the leftover cake she had your stepdad buy from the store cause she apparently couldn’t be bothered to get one for you herself.

“Mom, come on, that’s not fair!” You whined. “I’m literally an adult,” you reasoned.

“And you’re literally under my roof,” she replies back nonchalantly like she always does. You hated it when she acted like this.

She would always hold things over your head: no sleepovers, no parties, no boyfriends, no nothing, and it’s not cause she was looking out for you. It’s cause she was jealous of you.

She always told you how she never got to have any of those things, and now you can’t shake the feeling that even though she never directly said it to you, you feel like she’s taking it out on her only daughter, which just isn’t fair.

“Dad!” You turned to heeseung your stepdad, looking for his approval, and he gave you the tiniest hint of a smile while folding his arms over his chest and resting against the kitchen counter.

You and your stepdad had a much better relationship than you and your mother, unlike her. He seemed to actually care about you, which is comical cause he wasn’t even your real dad, and he treated you better than your mom ever did.

He’d always vouch for you, defend you when arguments got too heated, and he never made you feel like you were always in the wrong, unlike your mother did.

His care for you did go a lot further than just how a stepdad would care for their stepchild because his hugs would last a couple of seconds too long. His kisses on the cheek were a little too affectionate, and he'd eye you when you wore revealing outfits a bit too much.

You didn't mind, though. You did it on purpose cause you liked the attention. He wasn't your real dad, and besides, you had met him so late in your life that you were already fully grown, and you didn't even see him as a father figure at all.

Dad never even crossed your mind when you thought about him. All you saw was a very attractive man, and you wondered how your strict, bitter mother landed a gem like him.

“You heard your mom.” he swipes the cake as your mom sets it in the fridge and licks the frosting off his fingertip, humming at the sweet taste. “Now go upstairs and get ready for bed, young lady.”

You rolled your eyes and did as he said. You thought he’d vouch for you this time, too, but apparently not.

Little did you know he had other plans up his sleeve. He only said no to you cause he was not about to start a fight with his wife over you taking one measly shot, especially since it was your birthday.

His wife always had a way of making things about her. Just cause she didn’t get a shot at 21. Why couldn’t you? If he didn’t know any better, he’d say his wife was jealous of her own daughter, and if he’s being honest, it was kinda getting on his nerves the way she’d bitch at you all the time for virtually nothing.

When he married her, she was not like that at all, but once he moved in and you all became family, the whole dynamic changed. She paid more attention to scolding you than him.

He wasn’t needy necessarily, but he did get lonely sometimes, especially in the bedroom, and heeseung noticed that you talked to him more than his own wife.

Which resulted in him developing maybe not a crush but a certain attraction to you, and to his luck, it was mutual between the two of you, considering all the shameless flirting you did back and forth.

At first, he felt a bit guilty, but with the way he was feeling in his marriage, he might as well have been single. He’s not excusing his actions, but he definitely doesn’t care or feel any shame in checking you out from head to toe on a daily basis.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t spill his load in his palm once or twice at the thought of you.

How could he not when you’d purposefully bend over in front of him pretending that you dropped something or the way you’d push your chest against his whenever you’d hug?

You had already gotten ready for bed, sulking a bit as you leaned against the bed frame, scrolling on your phone.

Heeseung had joined his wife upstairs, lying next to her and sharing a quiet goodnight before they turned off the bedside lamps.

It was always like this: completely silent, no conversation, no talking about the day, no intimacy, absolutely nothing.

Even if he did try to talk, she’d always say she was stressed or tired.

Another one of the reasons Heeseung didn’t feel guilty for having feelings toward you was that you gave him the time of day.

He sighs putting his hands behind his head and staring at the celling finally after an hour passed his wife was fast asleep so he silently slipped out of bed and went to the kitchen where the cupboard was located pulling out a bottle of liquor one he bought expressly for you cause you had been going on all week about wanting to take a shot on your 21st.

He snuck over to your room, knocking on it softly, knowing you’d still be up. You were always up late.

You sighed and got out of bed tossing your blanket to the side and ripping open the door ready to be faced with your mom and some more of her shenanigans. “Wha-“ you stopped mid-way through, shocked to see that it was actually your stepdad instead, and you were pleasantly surprised to see he was in nothing but his underwear and a shirt.

“Hey,” he laughs softly, waving a bottle of liquor in your face along with two shot glasses.

“H-hi,” you smile upon seeing the bottle.

“Are you gonna let me in? Or are you gonna wait for your mom to catch us?” He smirks and you open the door further to let him in.

He bites his lip when you turn around to walk to your bed, eyeing the way those tight little sleep shorts hug your ass.

“I thought you said no?” You pressed your knees to your chest, patting a spot on the bed for him to sit.

He shrugs and takes a seat a little too close to you, but you don’t mind. “Thought I might break the rules a little bit. After all, you are the birthday girl.” he clicks his tongue and winks at you, placing the shot glasses on the nightstand, popping the cap off, and pouring you a drink and one for himself as well.

Feeling daring now that you two are finally alone, you decide to take things a little further than just your usual flirting. “Thanks, Daddy.” You bite your lip to hide your smile as he turns to you with a wide grin on his face.

“Of course, babydoll.” he lifts his hand up to stroke his thumb along your jaw. “Can’t have you going to bed mad at me now, can we?”

“No, Daddy,” you whisper, leaning into the warmth of his palm, and he could already feel himself twitching in his boxers, your skin so soft under his fingertips, so Inviting.

He hands you your shot and takes his, clanking your glasses together. “To the birthday girl,” you smiled shyly and downed the shot in one go.

Your face contorted from its strong taste, your tongue burning in the aftermath, but the aftertaste that was left in your mouth was enough for you to want another one.

He sees the mischievous glint in your eyes and pours you one more. “Only one more pretty girl,” he smiles, giving you one last shot, and you down it. Something about the way your throat bobs and your lips wrap around the rim of the cup makes his lower region feel warm.

“Happy birthday, baby girl.” he extends his hand to your thigh, rubbing his palm over it. Your legs relax under his touch, and you take your second shot before leaning back on the headboard, giving him more space to gently squeeze your thigh.

“Mmm,” you close your eyes as his other hand comes in contact with your right thigh, and now he’s kneading both with his strong hands going up higher and higher till his right thumb begins rubbing your clit over your shorts. “Daddy,” you whisper, rolling your hips against his fingers in desperation without an ounce of shame for being intimate with your mother’s husband.

His mouth parts open, shallow breaths escaping as he watches you succumb to pleasure. “That feels good, princess?” You nod, and he massages your clit some more, adding a bit of pressure as he circles the bud through your clothing. Your whole body heats up, and you can feel an orgasm building embarrassingly quickly inside you.

“Yes, please keep going,” you say breathlessly, your sensitive nipples hardening beneath your shirt, soft whimpers leaving your lips as you get closer.

“Gonna cum already, little one?” his words only push you closer, and he leans down to kiss your thigh. The softness of his lips tip you over the edge as you clamp around, nothing feeling your high being gently coaxed out of you.

“Oh god, Daddy, it feels so good.” You shudder and grip your bedsheets as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

He rubs you through it until you come down and catch your breath. “You did so well, baby. Keep this between you and me, okay, sweetheart?” You nod, and he kisses your thigh again before capping the liquor and getting ready to make his exit, that is, until you grip his wrist to stop him.

“More,” he can’t help but smile, and he can’t say he didn’t want to do more cause the hard-on in his boxers was in need of immediate attention, but he tries to use his better judgment and say no.

“We shouldn-“

“Please, I’m so wet for you been thinking about you every day since we moved in” The admission makes his heart rate pick up and his cock throb in his underwear, and he’s too weak to resist you because like you, he has also been waiting that long to have you.

He sighs, putting the alcohol back down on the nightstand. “Just this once,” he says as if that somehow makes it better. You both know no matter what, it’s wrong, but you couldn’t care less. You just wanted him, so you would take any opportunity that presented itself.

You nodded immediately, and he stood up, hooking his fingers in the waistband of his underwear, pulling them down his hard cock, flopping out thick and veiny for your eyes to feast on. You feel drool pool in your mouth from the sight, and the little bead of precum dripping off his tip was just the cherry on top. You wanted to feel him on your tongue badly.

His clothing falls around his ankles, and he climbs on the bed, hovering above you, his breath heavy with anticipation.

He grabs your shorts using his toned bicep muscles to easily yank your shorts down all the way. “So pretty and wet for me” he eyes your slick pussy and grabs hold of his thick base, guiding his tip between your soaked folds.

His breath stutters as he moves his hips forward and back, coating his thick shaft in your arousal. “Fuck” he twitches in excitement. You feel so warm and wet, and he’s not even inside you yet.

“Daddy,” you whimper desperately, and he knows exactly what you want by the tone of your voice, so he doesn’t want to tease you any longer.

“Don’t worry, sweets. Daddy’s got you.” he guides your hands around his waist, and you dig into the flesh, making him hiss with pain and pleasure.

He nudged the head on your entrance and pulled back a thin, clear string of arousal connecting you and bringing you back together as he pushed the thick tip inside your warm walls.

You wince slightly from the feeling of him stretching you out. Just his tip felt like heaven already, and you couldn’t help the way you squeezed so tightly around him. “Daddy,” you moan out, throwing your head back into the pillows as you gasped for air.

“Shit, there you go,” he grits through his teeth. “Take it in, princess. Take it like daddy’s good little girl” Your walls tighten around his tip, sucking him in even deeper. “You feel so good squeezing on your daddy’s cock. Your little pussy is so wet and warm” his hot breath blows against your face from the close proximity.

Pushing up your shirt, he reveals your chest, his big veiny hands kneading on your soft breasts that you put on display for him so many times, and now he finally got to see them up close and feel them.

Felt so much better than his imagination could ever even think of.

“You’re so big, Daddy,” you breathe out, taking all that he’s giving you obediently or maybe not so obediently cause you couldn’t help but grind down on his dick, forcing him to go in deeper.

His breath gets caught in his throat as your hole swallows him up, and he can’t help but thrust faster, your slick hole getting creamier by the second. “Fuck” his eyes roll back in his head, and he sticks his dick in you even further, watching as your pretty little face contorted in so much pleasure from being filled by his inches. “You’re taking my cock so deep, pretty girl. I’m all the way inside,” he whines, feeling your tight entrance rubbing along his tip, and it sets him off quicker than he’d like to admit. “Daddy’s gonna cum baby”

“Yes, Daddy, please cum all over me” he cups your face holding onto your cheek as you look at him with big round pleading eyes. Your words make him thrust his hips faster, his clammy skin smacking against your own, only adding to the pleasure as he fucks into your silky cunt so deep that his tip bumps your cervix and your breast jiggle with every harsh rut of his hips.

Feeling his high approaching, he lowers his hand to fondle your delicate clit to bring you to the point of no return alongside him.

“Daddy, I’m cumming!” Your body tenses at his actions, your walls clamping down on him tightly as your cunt creams around his cock, the tightness of your pussy feeling heavenly on his throbbing dick.

He lets out a lewd moan and quickly pulls his dick out, hot spurts of cum shooting all over your lower stomach. “Oh fuck fuck” he curses, watching as his dick throbs and paints you in his milky white cum.

You’re both moaning in pleasure as he rubs his cock against your stomach, releasing every last drop of cum on your pretty smooth skin. You both pant heavily while he empties himself completely.

You can’t help but swipe your finger in the puddle of warm cum and hold it to your tongue, sucking off the sticky remnants of his orgasm and savoring his taste.

“Daddy’s good girl,” he smiles in satisfaction, bending down and giving you a short but deep kiss on the lips before he gets up, and you miss his warmth already as he slips back into his boxers.

You watch him disappear into the bathroom and come back with something to clean you up.

He does it ever so gently, eyes full of care and concern, and once he’s finished, he helps you into your clothes and tucks you in for the night. “Happy birthday, baby. Daddy loves you.” he pecked your forehead, your eyes feeling heavy after those two unbelievable orgasms he gave to you.

“Love you too daddy” he smiles softly and takes the liquor and shot glasses heading to the door he took one last look at you puckering his lips and making a kissing noise you giggle and hide your face with the covers before he leaves. “Night, birthday girl,” he whispers to you.

“Goodnight, Daddy,” that’s all you remember before your eyelids fall shut. There’s a faint, satisfied smile on your face as you slip into slumber. This was the best birthday ever, all thanks to your stepdad.

-

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[bunny-jpeg]

secret tattoos (vol. 2)

charles leclerc

tags: smut/pwp, tattoos, established (secret) relationship, childhood friends, slight tickling, missionary position

max edition // lando edition // lewis edition // toto edition

you thought you had charles leclerc all figured out. not that he was someone who shrouded himself in mystery. he was the type of guy to keep his heart on his sleeve and let the love pour from his mouth. and after decades of knowing one another and three months of privately dating, there were still a few things you didn't know about him.

for example the tattoo on his rib cage.

you had pulled away to grab your phone off the nightstand as you were pulled away from your shirtless boyfriend. you looked back at him with phone in hand. but the way he was lying in bed. you noticed something on his side.

"wh-" you said as you lifted his arm and exposed the ink on his skin. it wasn't just any tattoo. it was of a dachshund dressed like a hotdog. while it took you off guard for a moment, you then snorted a laugh, "what is this, charles?"

"what is what?" he asked as he looked over to see what you were looking at. he pulled at his side a little before he said "oh." then looked at you, "i can explain."

"you never had a tattoo before."

charles dropped his arm across his chest and sighed, "it's new. very new." he chuckled at the memory, "i meant to tell you when i got back from mexico city."

you traced your finger across it and he giggled. a shudder ran through his body and goosebumps appeared on his skin. charles was very sensitive in some areas. like his side or behind his ear. you remarked, "and what exactly happened in mexico city, my love?"

he just smiled at you, "ah, well. after carlos' win, we had a little too much fun. and i woke up with a hangover and a nice new tattoo." he reached for you and you put your phone down to get back into his arms.

your fingers trailed across the tattoo and it only made him twitch in his sweatpants. you were dressed in one of the larger t-shirts you owned and a pair of panties. the t-shirt was printed with your lover's logo, and if he had it his way, your panties would've had it printed on them as well. you continued to trail your finger across his chest before you went in for another kiss. you moaned into it when he got hold of you, you felt a flip in your stomach and soon you were under your lover. you reached out and touched his sides, heat rose in your blood as he started to take off your t-shirt.

he admired you and you did the same. you felt warm under his careful gaze. he adored you, his longtime friend that eventually bloomed into something quite beautiful. you panties were discarded, as were his sweatpants. both of you left bare. the fire between you two.

"maybe you should get a matching one." he said as he got between your legs properly and grabbed you by the hips. he sank his cock into you carefully.

you moaned and let out a small hiss as you felt the stretch. you held onto the covers under you as he started to move against you. you swallowed back the heat in your chest. to be under him was a whole other feeling. there was something beautiful about charles, through to his core. it drove you mad at times, but in the most excited ways possible. he lit a fire in you.

"what do you say? a pretty tattoo for a pretty girl." he planted his hands on either side of you. he could only imagine what you'd get. he anticipated something funny. or at least quite charming. something small like his. he held onto the covers under you and moved his hips up against you. his cock fit snug inside of your achy cunt.

charles loved having sex with you. to feel something to intimate as he moved against you. his thrusts were heavy, but not quick. a steady rock of his hips as he fucked you with passion.

his long time friend turned into a life-long lover. you were perfect in his eyes, ever since you first met at children. you were his closest confidant. he could tell you anything. he pined for you for years, but you didn't want to ruin what made your friendship special. you two dated other people, and you loved them. but you ended up back in each other's lives once more.

charles loved you when you were kids, sharing snacks and looking at racing magazines together. and he loved you now, when you shared snacks and watched racing clips on the television. somethings never changed.

except now charles can admire your beauty, see you as the woman he knew he'd eventually love forever. as he moved against you, loving you with the depths of his heart. he was a romantic like that. he loved you that was, in ways that made your heart stagger with a euphoric want.

"fuck, charles."

he leaned in and kissed you across the bridge of your nose. he could feel the warmth of your skin under his lips. he moved a little faster and let you feel the claw of warmth in your gut. you felt like a dream as he moved against you. his thrusts were hungry, he yearned for you.

you held onto the covers under you and arched your back slightly. you felt the pleasure course through your body in a way that excited you. that was the thing about charles, being so close to him. to feel him so intimately, it made you fall ever more in love with him. he had that effect on you, and you loved it.

"i could imagine you in tattoos." he purred, "you'd look cute with a little piece of me on you. my number, maybe? sixteen seems to be the lucky number right now." he moved against you with a little more force and you felt the pool of warmth in your gut.

he moved against you and you felt the bloom of excitement in your gut. the warmth curled through your body and you felt on cloud nine, there was something about him that was simply intoxicating. you loved him, you loved him so deeply that you could feel the pull in you.

you reached for him and combed your fingers through his dark hair, "right, right. and what happens when you win the season and end up with number one."

he joked, "put a little concealer over the six and there we go." he winked at you and you pulled him in for a heated kiss. your bodies against one another as the two of you thrusted against one another. the pounding of your hearts as you felt your climax hit you.

you clenched around him and moaned into the deep kiss. he groaned against your lips as the two of you continued to rut against one another. the build up felt amazing. your nails dug into the back of his neck as he placed another heated kiss on your soft lips.

he clutched onto the bedding under you and continued to rut against you in a feverish pace. you panted heavily into his mouth as he fucked you through your orgasm. the bed shifted under you for a moment and you felt the heaviness of pleasure in your brain.

charles didn't last much longer, he worked against your body and you panted heavily when he looked down at you. those green eyes were hazy with lust. his words were looser as the admired your blissed out form. he gave a few more thrusts because he finished inside of you and made sure to keep every inch inside of you as he did so.

he groaned against you and went in for another heated kiss. his pace staggered for a moment until he stopped. he kissed you once more. you two stayed like that kissing for a moment before he pulled away and cupped your face.

you admired him for a moment before you got him on the beside beside you and the two of you went back to cuddling. your fingers trailed across the tattoo, almost tickling him. you heard his soft laugh and you smiled.

maybe you should get some ink of your own <3

hot-dog tattoo

[sukunatoes]

Cardio

Personal trainer!Sukuna x Fem Reader

WC: 1.9k

Content: MDNI. Smut. Vaginal Sex. Oral Sex (Fem Receiving). Fingering. Age Gap (Sukuna mid 40s, reader mid 20s). All Porn, No Plot. Modern AU.

A/N: Hi! I’m trying to get back into writing and attempting to learn to write in second person. This is my first time writing an x reader fic so i apologize for any errors. It’s a short one-shot that’s basically all smut and just me trying my hand at something new. I may write a follow up to this fic if anyone enjoys it but mainly wanted to put it out there is all :)

Sweat beads pool on your forehead, and your breath grows ragged as you raise yourself back up following your final set of squats. A pair of large hands reach over, grabbing the weights out of yours and lift them away with ease.

“Not bad for a rookie,” a deep voice rumbles just inches from your ear, sending a chill down your spine. “You’re getting better.”

Ryomen Sukuna. A local boxer who’s apparently famous in the underground scene. You had never seen him fight or even knew much about the sport for that matter, but from what you’ve heard, the man was an unstoppable force.

A couple of months prior, you had been complaining to your friend Megumi about wanting to find a personal trainer to help you ease back into fitness, but every option you explored was beyond what you could afford. His father had overheard the conversation and suggested one of his friends who did training on the side for some extra cash. Said he usually worked with up-and-coming fighters, so someone like you would be easy work for him.

Sure enough, whenever you had first texted Sukuna, he thought it was a joke. It’s not that he wouldn’t be able to train you, but he was confused why you’d even come to someone like him for help. He agreed and invited you over to his home gym, and ever since, you’ve met with him multiple times a week to train. It was an unusual situation for him, but you assumed he chalked it up to easy money.

“It’s because I have a good teacher,” you smile up at him.

He rolls his eyes before placing a hand on your lower back to scoot you out of his way, letting it linger for just a second too long. “Whatever, brat.”

Heat immediately pools in your lower abdomen, and your mouth grows dry. He always does this. Touches that last a little too long or drift a little too close to places his hands shouldn’t be. Occasionally throwing out questionable comments. It’s not that you didn’t want it; you wanted him so bad it made you ache. Watching the way he towered over you, his broad, tattooed shoulders glistening with sweat as he instructed your every move. You yearned for his touch so desperately. However, he never went beyond those little touches or quips, but God, you wish he finally would.

“However, your squats still aren’t deep enough,” Sukuna remarked as he turned back to face you. He leaned down just a bit, his signature smirk plastered across his face. “You need to spread your legs wider.”

His eyes carried a look in them, almost like he was daring you to be the one to blur the lines between what was appropriate or not. You had wanted to for a while now, but the bravery needed had not yet taken root.

“I’ll be sure to spread them wider for you next time.”

You instantly cringe at the words you let slip. Heat rises to your cheeks as you immediately divert your eyes to the floor.

“Oh?”

“I— I meant I’ll make sure my squats are deeper next time,” you stammer as you back up. You lean down, quickly snatching up your keys and water bottle from where they rested on the floor.

“Come on, don’t get all shy on me now.” He trails behind you, veering off towards the wall. His hand hovers over the panel to open the garage doors for you as his mouth starts twisting into a wide grin. “If you want something, all you have to do is ask.”

“I—“ The words you want to say die on your tongue before you can even utter them.

He stares expectantly in return, waiting for you to finish. Foot tapping against the ground for a moment before releasing an impatient sigh and brushing his fingers against the button that would allow your exit.

“Wait,” you step towards him and gently tug the wrist that hangs at his side. His eyebrow arches up. You definitely had his attention now. “Well— I was wondering if maybe you would want— ”

Without warning, his hands are on your waist and pulling you in. You collide with his chest, and before you can even think, his fingers are forcing your chin up. His lips slam into yours. There’s nothing gentle about the way he’s kissing you. It’s hungry and desperate. He wants you just as bad as you want him. His tongue eagerly slides into your mouth and massages against yours. You can feel yourself melting under his touch as you snake your arms around his neck. Sukuna grips underneath your ass and lifts you from the ground, your legs locking around him. The kiss never breaking as he carries you and sets you down on the ledge of a bench.

He pulls back, his lips slippery with your salvia, and sinks to his knees in front of you. His fingers greedily slip into the waistband of your shorts, sliding them down your legs in one smooth movement as he traces his tongue along his top lip. Tossing them somewhere behind him, he leans in and pulls your legs over his shoulders. A thumb presses against the damp patch on the cloth covering your cunt. The smallest whimper falls from your lips at the sudden pressure.

“Is this what you wanted?”

You can’t muster up much more than a weak nod as he begins to diligently stroke your clit through the cotton.

“Use your words, brat,” he commands, retracting his hand away from the wet mess between your legs.

You look down at him, bottom lip slightly protruding at the loss of contact. “Yes, Sukuna. Please.”

That was all he needed. He sinks his face between your thighs, tongue lapping at your clit through the thong. Sukuna deeply inhales as if he’s breathing you in, only to follow it with a guttural groan. A finger slips underneath the fabric and inside you. It curls, immediately finding that sweet spot, and rips a breathy moan from your throat. His lapping turns to sucking and the fabric quickly becomes soaked all the way through.

Your hands begin to explore his blush colored hair, intertwining with the strands. You gently tug on them before arching your back. Your hips buck in response to the stimulus, aching for him to give you more.

He grunts in response before briefly pulling back. Using his free hand, he yanks at your underwear in one strong motion causing them to rip. Before you can even protest, the remnants are hitting the floor and his tongue finds its way to your bare clit. A second finger joins the first inside of you, now picking up a faster pace.

“Oh my god,” your mumbles are incoherent as you yank on his hair harder.

He releases his tongue from your clit, fingers still going at a steady pace inside of you. “Ryomen is just fine. Sukuna if you don’t want to get too personal.”

You looked down at him to be met with that shit eating grin of his. A thick string of salvia trailing between his bottom lip and your clit.

Arrogant bastard.

You dig your heel into his back in response, evoking a soft chuckle from him before he rejoins his tongue to you.

Between his swollen lips sucking on you and his fingers still hitting that sweet spot, it wasn’t long until a heat starts coiling in your lower abdomen. Your heart begins to pick up and your moans grow louder as you approach your peak and in an instant, Sukuna is retracting his fingers and pulling away from you.

An incredulous look flashes across your face as you glance down. “Sukuna.”

“What?” he inquires, his voice carrying a mocking tone.

Was he really fucking teasing you?

Before you can even react, you’re being hoisted to your feet and spun around. Your eyes are met with a mirror that completely covers one of the walls in his gym.

Hands wrap around your waist and you’re being pulled into him as his hard length makes itself known against you. Fingers, still viscid from your juices, slide up to your lips and part them. He hums in amusement as he slips them into your mouth while his other hand grips your chin and forces you to look ahead to watch your own reflection as you begin to lap the slick from Sukuna’s fingers.

He pulls his fingers from your lips, and brings his mouth down to your ear, his breath hot as it ricochets off of you. “I want you to watch who’s making you feel this good.”

His sweatpants drop to the floor and his hard cock briefly rubs against your skin before his hand splays against your lower back, forcing you to bend over. He wastes no time lining his tip up with your entrance.

“You’re fucking soaked.” is the last thing you hear as he slides his length into you in a quick, fluid movement. He’s massive. You gasp at the sudden stretch of your walls trying to accommodate him before letting out a visceral moan. The pain quickly melting into pure ecstasy.

His strokes start slow and deliberate. He pulls himself out almost entirely before rutting back into you, wanting you to feel every single inch of him. Massive hands grip into your hips, holding your tender flesh so tight you’ll undoubtedly be bruised for weeks. A hand wreathes it’s way down to your swollen clit, rubbing circles around it as his pace begins to pick up. Your eyes instinctively close for a brief moment before a sharp burning sensation spreads across your scalp. His hand, now entangled in your hair, forcing your attention back to him.

Staring at your reflection, he smiles, flashing his unusually sharp canines. His smile isn’t smug or seductive. The look in his eyes is dark, he looks like he wants to devour you. “Watch.”

He drops his hand from your hair and places it back at your hip, while the other is still stroking your needy clit. His thrusts become faster, deeper, and desperate. Sweat drips down his contorted face as a mixture of grunts, moans, and curses slip from his lips. “You’re taking me so fucking good.”

Your legs start to tremble as that familiar pleasure starts coiling in your lower abdomen. You watch as Sukuna relentlessly buries himself into you and everything starts to slow down. A white light flashes across your vision and you cry out as he pushes you over the edge. Walls pulsating around him, you feel your inner thighs grow viscous.

“Fuck,” is all he offers as his breaths grows labored. He brings his other hand back to your side to steady you as he thrusts into your cunt a couple more times. Sukuna pulls himself out at the last second and paints your lower back with hot, white ribbons.

He steps back, reaching for one of his sweat towels folded over a nearby machine. The sudden loss of contact has you reaching out, searching for something to help steady your wobbly legs.

One arm snakes around your waist to offer you the stability you need, while the other carefully wipes away the cum decorating your skin. “I had thought of something else I wanted to have you do before your session ended, but I don’t think you’ll have enough stamina left.”

You turn to face that smug grin you’ve grown to like a little too much, and glance up into his crimson eyes. “Guess we’ll add it to next week’s session.”

[captain039]

PART 6 Unconventional Alpha

Alpha!Viktor x omega!reader

Warnings: Heats, suppressants, AOB, light swearing, Viktor’s not dying but still disabled, reader has chronic pain, plus size reader, nesting, Older Viktor, Professor Viktor, artistic reader, age gap reader is in their 20s +, smut, oral f receiving

Previous part <-

When you wake up again it’s hell. Your whole body is protesting your existence, it’s too hot under Viktor’s blanket, you kick it off then groan at the pain in your hips. You let out a small fake sob, half fake anyway. You hear the soft thud of a cane against the floor and see a concerned Viktor in the doorway.

“I’m fine, just complaining,” you say voice croaky from sleep. His eyes glance at the blanket you’ve discarded on the floor. He turns on the ceiling fan before walking over, he picks up his blanket and places it neatly on your bed.

“Your heat is in full swing” he says and you nod not bothering to look at him. You can smell his scent even more now making it hard to focus. He frowns a bit his hand touching the exposed skin of your back suddenly. You sigh and let out a small noise akin to a moan, your body tensing instantly hand slapping over your mouth.

“Apologies” he mutters but doesn’t move his hand.

“You’re having a flare up” he says gently and you frown at him wondering how the hell he can figure that out with a simple touch.

“I’ll make you some breakfast, do you have medication?” He asks and stands.

“Yeah top left cupboard, I’ve got bread and butter in the fridge, I don’t want something big” you mutter and he nods before walking off. You sigh feeling bad for making him make you breakfast even if he offered. You don’t think you can move though, the heat spread out your body and the tense muscles of your hips and back make it hell. Viktor returns a plate of toast in his hand with two capsules on the side.

“I’ll get you a water bottle” he says and you gesture to your bedside table vaguely. He lays down the plate on your bed before picking up your water bottle.

“Can you sit up?” He asks and you laugh at him.

“I’ll take that as I no” he smiles not taking your laughter to heart.

“Can I…join you in your nest?” He speaks softly and it makes your heat flare up more, but you nod. He sits down, your water bottle in his hand. He shuffles himself back till his back hits the wall. He places your water bottle by you before leaning over to grab the plate, he takes the two capsules and hands them to you before opening your bottle.

“Sit up so you don’t choke” he coaxes gently and you sigh pushing yourself up more on your pillows so your head is up. You take a sip of water before downing the two capsules and sigh.

“Good girl,” he says quietly and you both tense, you see the pink dust on his cheeks and feel your heat grow needier.

“Toast,” he says quickly putting the plate by you and clearing his throat. You eat slowly in a small awkward silence, you eat one and a half before you sigh and sink into your pillow. He sits there for a moment his cheeks still dusted with pink.

“You’re probably not wanting anymore heat right now” he says in thought and you shake your head.

“Not really, too hot for the heat pad,” you say.

“Wait till the medication sets in” he says and slowly gets off your bed taking the empty plate.

“Thank you” you mumble and he glances back and nods.

The first two days seem bearable, sort of, you manage to walk yourself to the toilet and back so that’s good. The need is only simmering below your skin and in your lower belly. At night it’s a little worse when you hear Viktor’s soft snores and wonder if he’d wake up if you indulged in a little self-pleasure. You can’t though, your room will stink of it and you don’t want to embarrass Viktor anymore than he probably already is having to babysit you. The third night you’re agitated, by your thoughts, by the growing need, you had almost beg for a simple touch when Viktor brings you food. Now you lie awake cursed you can’t move freely or bring this need down even a bit. You’ve moved your nest around a bit to accommodate your pain, and there’s a towel under you too in case certain things get worse, it feels scratchy though and you hate it. Viktor’s blanket doesn’t smell like him any more either and it’s making you annoyed. You hear movement from your lounge and the gentle sigh of Viktor getting off the pull-out sofa, you assume he’s going to the bathroom but when the gentle sounds of his cane come into your room you look at him in the darkness.

“What’s wrong?” You ask.

“I’d like to ask you that” he says and you realise you’re probably projecting your emotions into your scent.

“I’m sorry” you mumble. He walks closer and you turn the lamp on reaching a little awkwardly. He looks to your nest in question and you nod before he sits down. You curl your legs up so he can manoeuvre a bit till his back is on the wall.

“Keep your legs straight is better than bent” he takes your ankles and gently tugs them over his lap and you flush a bit and nod keeping back an embarrassing noise of delight when he touches you. You watch his eyes narrow as he keeps his hand resting on your upper ankle.

“Your joints are swollen” he says his voice dropping lower as he gently begins to massage the swollen skin around your ankle.

“Joys of what I have” you say sighing a bit at the gentle pressure. You always hated massages, going to physical therapy they’d massage so roughly, manipulate your muscles and joints, or a massage therapist would be too hard and you’d leave in agony, but this, his slender fingers gently rubbing over the swollen joint like you’re made of glass, gently warming up your skin even more, applying light but nice pressure it’s heaven. Your eyes flutter close and you sigh basking in the tender care of your alpha. You frown though, your alpha, you open your eyes again to look at him finding his intense honeyed eyes on yours. You falter under the rapt attention he gives you. You feel seen and cared for, not just another face in the crowd or something to be pitied or manipulated. His hands slide up your exposed legs and you flush a bit knowing you haven’t bothered to shave in a week but he doesn’t care. He slowly moves almost like a graceful predator, lean body crawling over yours till he’s hovering above you. He keeps his hands by your head, one leg bent and at your side the other no doubt his bad leg stretched out beside yours. You breathe him on, his scent and sigh contently at the smell of alpha filling your nose.

“Will you let me help you?” He asks his voice a husky whisper you barely catch. You nod not entirely sure which meaning to go with before you see him slide down your body again and rest between your legs. You feel yourself go incredibly hot and not just from the heat you’re in, your heart pounds and your body instantly knows preparing itself for an alpha. You feel an embarrassingly wet patch soak from your underwear through your shorts and you watch as his nose flared and his eyes darken. His eyes flick to yours before he gently kisses your thighs, you feel your hands itching to cover your face but the way his eyes hold yours it’s impossible to look away.

“Lift your hips slowly” he says and you use your legs to lift your hips. He moves quickly sliding down your sleep shorts and underwear in one go before helping you lower your hips back to the bed and placing gentle kisses there. He sits up and guides your left leg to the same side as the right and takes your lower garments off and lies them on the bed before spreading your legs again. You resist the urge to clamp your thighs shut knowing your body is already producing slick.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asks his eyes gazing into yours and you take a small breath and shake your head, you need this, your heat makes you fuzzy with need and desire. He nods and slowly lowers himself back between your thighs, he gently noses your inner thigh taking a deep breath a low growl rumbling from his chest that is purely alpha satisfaction and it makes you whine. You feel his breath fan over your mound, his nose trailing down to your slit. His eyes flick to yours once more before you feel his fingers spread your lips apart and a hot tongue at your entrance that makes you gasp. You do everything to sit still while he takes long slow licks at your slicked entrance but your hips move to meet his tongue.

“Keep your hips still love, I don’t want you hurting them any more than they already are,” he says in a low voice his accent coming through thicker. You nod and hold your hips still despite the jolts of pleasure that go through you at the slow dance his tongue does. Your arms covering your face your mouth parted slightly as soft pants leave your lips embarrassingly but you swear you feel your omega nature purr and bask in this. You were already so on the edge your heat making everything heightened, you could feel your orgasm building embarrassingly quick and struggle to hold back. His tongue presses against your clit applying the pressure you need, a few strokes of his tongue and you’re coming quickly with a strained cry and arch of your back, you feel his arm over your hips holding you down though so you don’t hurt yourself.

“That’s it” you hear faintly too clouded by pleasure as you feel your inner walls clamp around nothing. His tongue makes you oversensitive as he cleans up your juices before lifting his head. You press your palms to your eyes and feel a wave of emotions go over you, you let out a small sob and feel Viktor crawling back up your body with gentle hushes.

“You’re alright sweetheart, just breathe” he whispers prying your hands from your eyes. You look at him with watery eyes and feel humiliated by crying after an orgasm.

“Too much,” he says softly not as a question but as fact as he lies on his side and brings you to nuzzle into his neck and your nose by his scent gland.

“I shouldn’t have pushed you” he murmurs and cradles you gently.

“You didn’t, I don’t know why I’m crying,” you say breathing in his calming alpha scent your hands gripping his shirt.

“It’s your heat, everything is overwhelming on edge, your emotions especially so” his hand gently massages your scalp and you find yourself calming down at the alpha's touch. You take a big breath trying to calm yourself down your hands unclenching from his shirt.

“It’s probably ten times harder due to being on suppressants so long, your flare up too, as well as not being mated ok?” He speaks softly and you nod relaxing against him. You move so your hips aren’t aching and sigh.

“Can I hold onto you?” You ask softly.

“Of course you can sweetheart” he says holding you closer. Your arms go around his lean frame and you sigh contently. He reaches down tugging his blanket up and over you so your lower half isn’t exposed.

“Doesn’t smell like you anymore” you whisper.

“It doesn’t does it?” he chuckles softly.

“I’ll bring you a new one tomorrow” he adds continuing his gently scalp massage that makes your eyes droop close.

“Like the source better” you mumble sleepily feeling him smile as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

Next part ->

Taglist:

@donnie-is-here

@imithicwolf

@justmoniesworld

@sseleniaa

@charliepoopyfart

[peachiejeongin]

A Lesson in Lust | Felix

Synopsis: You have been with Felix for a while now, and you feel like you are finally ready to advance in the relationship; however, you need some help learning the ropes, and Felix is more than happy to be your instructor.

Pairing: Felix x fem!reader

Genre: non-idol au, established relationship, smut

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content (18+ Recommended), inexperienced!reader, sub!reader, soft-dom!Felix, pet names (good girl, pretty girl, sweetheart, etc), oral (m!receiving), praise, light marking, protected penetrative sex, riding, aftercare

WC: 3.8k

Notice: I may or may not have awoken on Christmas Eve with this in mind, and it may or may not be inspired by a dream I had. I have also been told I need to write more Felix stories to which I am happy to do so! Of course, it is a cliche in a sense, but nevertheless, my loves, I hope you all enjoy the fiction!

Divider By: @strangergraphics

Smut under the cut!

The glow of the bedside lamp cast a golden warmth over the room, its light flickering softly as the evening settled itself into darkness. You were curled up against Felix, your head resting on his chest and the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing comforting in its steadiness. His hand was absentmindedly tracing circles along your arm, his tocuh featherlight as if he could not help but show affection in the smallest of gestures.

You had been silent for some time, your thoughts chasing each other around in circles, each once tangling with the next. Yet, they all centered around one specific aspect:

Sex.

You and Felix had been discussing the topic as of recent, setting boundaries and getting a feel for what the other was and was not into; however, the topic of actually consumating the act was a completely different story on your end.

You had never actually done this sort of thing before; sure, you had given and received oral from previous partners, albeit in an extremely poor manner. But you had never gone fully in, nor did you even feel like you knew what you were doing from the little experience you did have.

Thus, you had asked Felix if you could wait for a little bit, just to make sure you had enough confidence in yourself in order to delve into the act. Felix, ever assuring and compassionate, understood immediately and agreed to hold off for you.

Now, as you lay beside your boyfriend, you felt ready; although, your mind was still racing with anxiety.

It was not that you did not know what you wanted; if anything, it was the certainty that made your heart race. Saying it out loud, however, felt monumental, like stepping off of a cliff and hoping he would be there to catch you.

"What's on your mind, sweetheart?" His voice broke the quiet, gentle and curious. His fingers paused briefly against your arm before continuing their soothing gestures. You bit your lip, the words forming but catching in your throat.

"It's...it's kind of hard to talk about," you admitted, shifting to prop yourself up slightly. The nervous flutter in your stomach grew when he turned to face you fully, his expression open and patient, giving you all of the space you needed.

"That's alright," he responded, his voice steady and soft. "We don't have to talk about anything until you are ready."

Drawing in a shaky breath, you reached for his hand, lacing your fingers together for courage.

"I think I am," you began, your voice barely above a whisper. "Ready, y'know, to um...go further with us. With you."

Felix's brows lifted slightly in surprise, but his reaction was far from startled or rushed. Instead, a smile, warm and understanding, spread across his face. He sat up a little more, adjusting to meet your eyes, his hand giving yours a reassuring squeeze.

"Are you sure?" he asked gently, his tone free of judgement or expectation. "I mean, really sure? I don't want you to feel like you have to rush into anything because of me."

"No, it's not that," you corrected quickly, your cheeks heating up at his concern. "I want to. I really want to. I've just never done this before, and I'm scared I'll mess it up, or I won't know what to do."

Felix's smile softened, and he shifted closer, his free hand coming up to gently cup your cheek.

"Hey, there is no such thing as messing this up," he murmured, his thumb brushing lightly along your skin. "This isn't about being perfect or knowing all the steps at once. It's about figuring it out at your pace. Plus, you have nothing to worry about. I'll teach you everything, okay?"

You felt your chest ache in the best way possible at his words, the weight of your nervousness easing just a little as you leaned into his touch.

"Okay," you mumbled, giving a small nod to punctuate the word. You leaned in closer to Felix, resting your hands on his shoulders before encapsulating the boy in a tender, loving kiss. The action lingered for a little before he pulled away, a sparkle present in his eyes.

"How would you like to begin, my love?" he questioned softly, his face only mere centimeters away from yours. You subconsciously slid your hands down his chest, stopping when they perched lightly on his stomach; the action sent mild sparks through Felix's body, causing him to hold back a groan that had bubbled up in his chest.

"Well," you started, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. "We could always get rid of this thing." You tugged on the material for emphasis. Felix chuckled, shaking his head as his eyes scanned your every movement.

"Go for it, Darling," he affirmed, holding his hands above his head. You took in a deep breath, hooking your fingers under his loose, white t-shirt and slowly but surely pulling it over Felix's head. You discarded it somewhere on the bedroom floor; 'a task for later,' you presumed.

Right now, all you were focused on was the marvelous sight in front of you. You had seen Felix shirtless dozens of times, but this instance felt different, more intimate, a shared moment between two lovers as they progressed their relationship.

Still, you could not deny his beauty—defined abs etched onto a golden body and strong arm muscles that carressed you with every care in the world molded into them.

Once his shirt was discarded, Felix’s attention snapped back to you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. His hands, warm and steady, cupped your face as he pulled you into another kiss, this one searing with passion and an unspoken hunger. The kiss deepened swiftly, his lips moving against yours with a rhythm that felt both natural and electric. His hands slipped to your waist, guiding you effortlessly into his lap until your thighs settled on either side of him.

You could not suppress the gasp that escaped as his tongue brushed teasingly against yours, a bold exploration that made your heart stutter. Felix chuckled against your lips, the sound low and affectionate, his amusement laced with a confidence that only made you melt further. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his lips slightly swollen, his gaze holding an unspoken reverence that made your breath hitch.

"You're so precious," he muttered against your lips, his hands softly rubbing up and down your back and your waist. Your arms wrapped around his neck, fiddling with the long dark strands of hair that fell down to his shoulders.

"Can we," you uttered, breaking the kiss you look at Felix longingly, "like...um..." You felt a meek feeling overtake you, a mix of the intense intimacy of the moment and the words catching in your throat.

"Hm?" Felix hummed, his voice deep yet calming. "Take your time baby."

"Can we do something I kind of know how to do?" you inquired, your voice shy and quiet. "Just so I could get back into the swing of things?" Felix's expression morphed into one of shock; his eyes widened, and he tilted his head in your direction, urging you to go further.

"Like what, baby?"

You simply responded to Felix's question with a sly smirk, moving away from his embrace and repositioning yourself to lay in between his legs. Your fingers moved towards the drawstrings of his sweatpants, untying them and keenly observing his body's responses. He let out a generous groan, unable to remove his dark gaze from you, anticipating your every move.

"I see," Felix commented, his voice falling into a hush as you grabbed the waistband of his sweats, his words faltering into shivering moans as you pulled them down along with his boxers.

The sight before you stole your breath, exceeding every expectation and flooding your senses with wonder. Felix was breathtaking, his lean, toned frame stretched out before you like a masterpiece crafted by the divine. His arousal was undeniable—longer and more prominent than you had experienced before. The flushed, swollen tip of his cock glistened with beads of pre-cum, evidence of just how much your presence, your touch, unraveled him; the simple act of your fingers working at the drawstring of his sweats had reduced him to this trembling state.

"Woah," you mumbled, your eyes blown out and fixated on the wonderous view.

"Like what you see?" Felix asked, a blend of teasing and adoration in his tone.

"Mhm," you hummed, absentmindedly taking his length into both of your shaky yet pliable hands; Felix let out a sharp, erotic hiss at the motion, causing you to slowly let go of him.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled, your manner panicked. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"No, no, baby!" Felix sat up slightly, resting a comforting hand on your upper back. "That felt good. It's what you're supposed to do."

"Oh, okay..." Your voice trailed off as you reluctantly retook hold of Felix's dick, your hands gripping lightly at the base.

"There you go," Felix breathed out. "Just relax for me, okay? Take your time and go at your pace. Don't worry about me, sweetheart."

"But I wanna make you feel good," you protested quietly.

"You will, no matter what you do," Felix reassured. "I already feel amazing, and I'm just looking at you, Pretty Girl."

Felix’s words were a spark, igniting a rush of confidence that coursed through your veins like a wildfire. The tension in your shoulders began to melt away as you leaned into the moment, your gaze lifting to meet his. Through hooded eyes, you stole a glance at him, the soft curve of his smile steadying your resolve. Though your nerves still hummed beneath the surface, you let them propel you forward, taking a breath and finally beginning.

Your pace was slow, deliberate as you got to work. While one hand kept hold of Felix's cock, the other moved to tantalize his tip; your pointer finger swirled around the head and over the slit, coating Felix in his own arousal. You ran the finger down his shaft, tracing each and every prominent vein as if you were committing the image to memory.

"Fuck, baby," Felix groaned. "Keep going for me, Beautiful. Use that pretty mouth. Go slow for me."

You obliged his commands, leisurely wrapping your lips around his glistening tip and pulling him little by little into your mouth. You glanced up at him partially for approval and partially to watch his reactions.

"Yes, baby girl, just like that," Felix moaned out, moving one of his hands to lightly tug at your hair.

You took your time with Felix, sinking lower onto his shaft with a newfound desire to please him. You went about halfway down on his cock before moving back up again, continuing the motion for a few moments and eliciting sincere, hearty noises from Felix.

"You're doing so, so well, baby. I want you to use your tongue and your hands," Felix guided you with care, his instructions precise yet tender, his eyes never leaving yours. The way he spoke made your chest tighten, every syllable laced with a trust that both thrilled and reassured you. "Can you do that for me?"

"Mhm," you hummed around his tip, shooting a fiery blast of sparks through his body. Your hands moved first, stroking the half of Felix's length in which you could not reach with your mouth. As your hands worked him up, your tongue began to move in perfect rhythm; it swirled over his tip and down to other, more sensitive areas, wetting him completely as you took him in your mouth.

"You learn quickly, my love," Felix remarked, trying to sound teasing but being given away by the broken composure of his whines, the mix of sensations overwhelming his senses. "You feel so fucking good, baby."

As you suck and stroke Felix at a slightly quicker pace, he moans out into the tinted darkness of your bedroom, praying that the neighbors cannot hear how loud he is being. Your mouth is making him feel things he has never felt before, and he swears up and down you do not need him as a teacher with how well you are performing. His moans are mixed between pleasure and content.

"I've never felt this good before," Felix admits, punctuating his words with a brief giggle to keep the mood lighthearted. "My goodness, baby girl."

His praises have you unconsciously rubbing your thighs together, desperate for any sort of friction that could relieve the throbbing ache between your legs.

"You okay?" you purr around his length, sending a jolting wave throughout his body and resulting in a high-pitched, wanton moan.

"Y-yeah." Felix is more than okay; he is in a state of absolute awe that he had otherwise thought impossible. Watching you, here in this moment, in combination with knowing that he is the one that gets to have you like this hazed his mind with arousal.

His brain was increduously foggy, so much so that he does not realize when you speed up once more, bobbing your head up and down until he is teetering on the fine line of release. The sensation overtakes him suddenly, and his hands flee from your hair to grip at whatever slick material of the mattress they could grab.

He is so lost in his arousal that he absentmindedly bucks his hips up into your mouth, his prolonged thrust causing you to gag around his cock.

"Shit, baby," Felix whined, guilt overtaking him. " 'M sorry. Just felt so good, I-"

Felix is cut off by you, removing your gentle grasp around his length; before he can question why you did so, he watches as your mouth goes down to where your hands once were.

"Holy fuck!" Felix exclaims; his hips are now stuttering lightly, and his moans are coming out in higher pitches, to which you inferred both as tell-tale signs that he is close. His eyes roll back into his head, and his pleas only make you more feverish in drawing out his orgasm.

With one final, blaring groan of your name, Felix's thighs shake on either side of you as he releases thick, white ropes of cum onto your tongue. His climax is adorned by breathy groans; he swore he was on fire, melting under your precise touch.

After helping ride out his high, you release him with a wet pop!, swallowing every drop of his cum. He groans once more, with swears and other obscenities escaping from his mouth through heavy breaths.

You climbed over top of him, priding yourself in the adorable scenery; Felix's cheeks were flushed a deep shade of pink, his hands were moving up to cover his face, and his chest was heaving up and down heavily as he calms himself down from the heels of his high.

"You alright, Lixie?" you question, moving his hands away from his face and tucking a stray strand of his black, disheveled hair out of his eyes.

"I'm amazing," he responded, his voice hoarse and laced with arousal. "You did so fucking well, sweetheart." He sat up now, maneuvering you back into your straddling position as he wrapped you into a tight embrace, burying his head in the crook of your neck.

"I tried," you giggled out, feeling the rumble of Felix's chest as he laughed.

"You succeeded."

He pulled away from the hug first, his hands absently wandering down to the fabric of your hoodie, now lightly stained with evidence of the night's events. His hands slipped under the material, feeling warm against your skin as he lifted your hoodie up slightly.

"Can I?" he asked, ensuring he had your full consent before going any further. You nodded, desperate to be rid of the clothes that were making your already flushed body hotter than need be. Thus, Felix hurriedly tugged the article over your head and discarded it on the floor with the other stray items of clothing.

"Wow," he mumbled, taking in the very sight of you, from the top of your chest to the bottom of your stomach. Without thinking, his head delves into the skin just above your collarbones, kissing and sucking light marks into your skin. The small attentive action had you lightly tilting your head back, bracing onto Felix's shoulders for support. He pulled away gently, smirking at your blown-out state.

"You trust me?" Felix asks, his hands sliding up your waist.

"Always," you breathed out.

"I want you to ride me."

The words hit you like a jolt of lightning, leaving you frozen in place. Your lips parted instinctively, but no sound escaped as your heart began to pound erratically, each beat a vivid reminder of the anxiety coursing through you. Felix’s eyes flicked to your tense posture, the weight of your unease visible in the rigid set of your shoulders. Without a word, his warm hands found their way to you, kneading the taut muscles with gentle precision.

"You don't have to, baby," he followed up, his tone gentle and reassuring. "Tonight is all about you and what you're comfortable with."

"No, I want to," you quickly dismissed. "It's just, I don't know if I'll be good at it. What if I don't finish, or I finish and you don't, or-" Felix cut your inherent rambles off with a soft, soothing kiss, pulling away to look at you with pure love in his eyes.

"That's why you have me," Felix answered, his deep, Australian accent grounding you back into reality. "Like I said earlier, I already feel absolutely ecstatic, more so now that you...did what you did." Felix's words made you release a stifled laugh that you were unaware you were holding in. The sincerity of his tone, of his words gave you an unusual sense of confidence; with the rush of adrenaline, you reached down, hooking your thumbs under the elastic of your sleep shorts and your underwear, and sliding both off in one swift motion.

Felix brought you closer to him, relishing in the sight of you, completely bare before him. His eyes were wide, and his tongue subconsciously darted out as he analyzed every detail of you. He lightly took hold of your waist in order to demonstrate how to ride him.

"All you gotta do," he explained, "is bounce up and down on me." To accentuate his words, he lifted you up and down, simulating the real experience. "You can grip as hard as you need to on me for support, and if you get tired, just let me know, okay?"

"Okay," you agreed, nervousness still slightly prominent in your tone. Before beginning anything, he reached into the bedside dresser drawer, pulling out a condom and rolling it onto his cock. Once he was protected, you consciously lined Felix's tip up with your entrance, getting verbal confirmation that he was ready before you did anything.

Once you were both prepared, you lowered yourself onto him, gasping at the painful yet pleasureful stretch you felt; you felt full, for lack of a better term. Of course, you knew how large Felix was, but feeling it was entirely different. Meanwhile, Felix groaned, possibly the loudest he had all night, but his noises turned into incoherant mush from the way you felt.

You stilled for a moment, allowing your body the time it needed to adjust to his size while your hands steadied on his shoulders. Once you did start moving, it was at moderate, steady speed. You mirrored the actions Felix had taught you, lifting yourself off of his dick and lowering yourself back down over and over again until you gained a rhythm to your bounce.

"Oh my God, you're so fucking tight, baby," Felix managed to grunt. "You- Oh my God- Holy shit!" A plethora of swears made their way out of Felix's mouth as he whimpered about how amazing you felt.

You moaned softly in response to his praises, quickening your motions as Felix's head fell back onto the pillows. The intensity of chasing your own high caused you to whimper, in addition to the desire you had to please and be good for Felix. The bedroom filled with sensual noises as you both became blind sighted by pleasure.

"Keep going, baby," Felix whined. "J-Just like that. Doing so well for me."

His grip around your waist tightened as he let out more slurred whimpers and groans. His body was burning, and you noticed every visible muscle, from his arms down to his abs, clenching up. The intense euphoria of it all overtook his entire being, so much so that the man could barely see straight.

"I'm so fucking close, Lixie," you groaned, burying your face in the crook of your neck while somehow managing to keep up your pace.

"Hold out a little longer for me, baby," he stumbled, feeling a knot beginning to tighten in his stomach for the second time that night. You, in response, growled into his shoulder, nipping and sucking at the skin as a way to calm yourself down. Felix's legs began to tremble once more, and his grasp around your waist limpened, his high approaching.

"Please, baby," you whined, unable to hold yourself back for much longer as you found yourself at the peaks of your climax.

"Let go, sweetheart," Felix commanded, feeling his orgasm sneaking up on him. With that, your breathing became heavier and you swore momentarily that you saw stars as you let yourself go. You released every bit of the pent-up arousal around Felix's cock.

It did not take long for him to follow, letting out a roaring groan as he was brought to his second finish of the night. He finished into the condom, rocking out a few more thrusts to calm you both down before pulling out and discarding the rubber.

You fell beside of him, breathless and messy as you called to him.

"C'mere, baby," Felix gestured for you to snuggle with him; he held you tight as if letting go would cause him to lose you for forever.

"Did I do good?" you asked, oblivious to every emotion Felix had experienced all at once.

"You did so fucking well, sweetheart," he praised, running his fingers soothingly through your hair. "Are you alright?"

"Mhm," you muttered in response, almost dozing off in his arms.

"Mm-mm," Felix tsked, lifting you up out of his embrace. "Gotta get you cleaned up, baby."

After taking a hot bath together and changing into comfortable pajamas, you snuggled into Felix's side as a movie play half-forgotten in the background.

"Thank you, by the way," you said out of the blue, "for teaching me all of the sex stuff." Your wording had Felix in giggles as he held you tighter.

"Any time, my dear."

The air was silent momentarily, you absentmindedly fiddling with the drawstrings of Felix's hoodie.

"You think we could have another lesson soon?"

Taglist: @velvetmoonlght, @amararosesblog (If you would like to be added to the taglist, please let me know!)

[hisaangel]

Luigi Mangione x female reader

a/n: Hear me out, Lu loves fucking you when you’re asleep, so here's a quick little thing for y'all <3 (i fear i might need that phd to breed me while im asleep)

cw: somno, cnc, smut, creampie, unprotected, p in v:

“i know baby, i know but i need to be inside you, you don’t have to do anything baby please just let me feel you”, already knowing the answer, but he liked making sure you were still okay with it

a tiny yes leaving your mouth, confirming his knowledge. As he started trailing soft kisses along your neck, your small sighs and whimpers exciting him even more. Running his fingers over your delicate and soft body, brushing his fingertips over your clit. goosebumps all over your body

whispering "you're so warm my love, i love you so much my pretty girl" against, your neck, even though he knows you're already dead asleep. Sooner than later he's sliding his cock into you, supressing his sounds to not wake you. A small whimper leaving your lips as you stir slightly in your sleep. Getting slightly more turned on as he slides fully into your heat, letting you adjust to his size before slowly thrusting.

Holding you close until he spills into you, laying for a second to adjust himself before quickly cleaning you up.

As soon as he lays down he falls asleep, with you in his arms.

[stayevildarling]

Olivia Benson x Reader- In Uniform

A/N: I saw this tiktok earlier and felt the urge to write Olivia smut so here we are🥲🤍

tw/tags: nsfw, smut, established relationship, female reader, olivia recieving (oral, fingers), reader recieving (oral, fingers), mommy kink, authorative kink, mention of strap-on

word count: 2.2k

taglist:

@lunaticwhittaker , @billiebeanhoward , @lanawinters-ily , @kenzbro , @minaslittleone , @httpfiftyshadesofgay @whitelotus00 , @ninaahelvar , @paulsonsratched , @vintagepaulson , @isle-of-earle , @grilledcheeseandguavajelly , @lucyintheskywithxanax , @fanfics4world , @mymiraclewitch , @hazard-to-myself , @awritersometimes , @wastdstime , @p1pecleanerwitheyes , @queen2234 , @ihartnat , @lifebyinez , @ahsatanizgay, @blu3dimples

The precinct banquet hall was filled with people, conversations lingering in the air as well as the sound of glasses clinking. You stand at your table, surrounded by familiar faces, detectives from your division, your bosses and other departments. But your attention lingers on one person only, your girlfriend Olivia, standing with her colleagues from the Special Victims Unit before she takes the stage.

She is dressed in her ceremonial captains uniform and you can‘t keep your eyes off her tie, her dark hair neatly put up and the several medals shining on her chest. Her presence is commanding as well as authorative. You watch as she steps on the stage, her calm and powerful voice delivering a speech like she usually would, her eyes occasionally flickering across the room. Yet, you couldn‘t hear a single word, the way her glasses are perched up her nose and the way her uniform suits her so well, taking your breath away.

You shift uncomfortably in your seat, heat travelling from your stomach in between your legs as you press your thighs together. When her eyes meet yours for a second, your breath hitches and heart stops in your chest as you have to supress the things going on in your mind.

The sound of applause after she finishes her speech pulls you back to reality for a moment as you force a smile and applaude, watching as she joins the others again and begins light conversation. You tried your hardest to keep up with what you are supposed to do tonight, keep up small talk and talk about your division, the one you had transfered to once things between you and Liv became serious .

As soon as the event begins winding down, you slip away from the others, finding Olivia‘s office as you noticed her slipping away a while ago, knowing she was bound to catch up on some work as she always does. As you step into your old unit you feel nostalgic before seeing her through the windows of her office, leaning back in her chair as she reads over notes, glasses perched on her nose the same way she had while giving her speech. Your stomach flips as you see the top button of her uniform unbuttoned and as she looks up, eyebrows raised in surprise, you feel like falling to your knees right there.

„Hi love, what are you doing here?“ she asks gently as she sets the notepad down, tilting her head a little to get a better glimpse at you. She watches in surpise as you close the door behind you, the lock clicking shut with a subtle sound before you walk over to the blinds and roll them down, giving you both the complete privacy of her office.

„Everything alright?“ she asks as her eyebrows furrow before you turn to face her. „Yeah“ you nod, thoughts trailing off as you take another glimpse at your girlfriend, feeling like you might burst any second from how insanely beautiful and attractive she looks. „Don‘t you wanna celebrate out there?“ she asks curiously as she studies your features carefully. It takes a second for you to reply as you stand almost frozen in your spot „I couldn‘t stay out there Liv“ you admit, causing her eyebrows to furrow in concern as she still hasn‘t gotten the hints yet.

„Why not sweetheart?“ she asks gently before you clear your throat „Not after watching you all night“ you murmur, barely audible as her eyebrows perk up in surprise. „Watching me?“ she asks curiously as you sigh in frustration, holding back the urge to stomp your foot too. „God Liv, I have watched you take the stage with that uniform, demanding everyones attention and I can‘t- I just wanna“ you stop yourself, usually not the one to be this direct as you are usually more subltle and shy about things. But when she looks at you with a slight smirk, understanding now, you can‘t help yourelf.

„What is it sweetie?“ she asks curiously as your eyes lock with her own. „I couldn‘t stop thinking about how badly I wanted to tear this uniform from you“ you admit, watching as her eyes widen in surprise. She was surprised at your sudden boldness but she can‘t hide the smirk that follows, liking this side of you more than she is letting on. „You usually have a little more restraint than that baby“ she teases which causes you to chuckle „Not tonight, not with you looking like.. that“ you admit, eyes trailing down your girlfriend. „Liv you are driving me crazy“ you admit before she chuckles, setting her glasses down, voice lower than before as she moves her chair back „Why don‘t you show me how?“ she asks, finally giving in with a deliberate smile.

You waste no time making your way over, glancing at your girlfriend before getting on your knees, the surprise evident in the older womans features as she locks eyes with you. The image of you kneeling for her turns her on more than she is letting on, let alone to mention how absolutely stunning you look tonight. You begin slow despite the urgency you are feeling, slipping off her shoes first before fiddling with the hem of her trousers. „Not so fast sweetie“ she chuckles before she pulls you up by your collar, making your body collapse into her lap. She pulls you in for a kiss, slow, deliberate but as her tongue swipes across your bottom lip, you can feel her urgency.

With gentle movements you fiddle with her tie, pulling at it a little to move her forward as you trail kisses down her neck, sucking at her sensitive points causing the occasional moan to slip from her lips. Once you have the brunette worked up enough, you drop onto your knees again, subtly pulling her trousers and underwear down and she almost immediately spreads her legs for you, allowing your eyes to meet with her glistening core. „Liv“ you whisper as your hands caress her thighs, travelling down her legs as you place kisses between them, travelling closer and closer to where she needs you.

„Y/N“ your name falls from her lips so casually as she leans her head back, eyes closing as your mouth ghosts over her throbbing center and without warning you begin licking through her folds, collecting her sweet juices on your tongue, the taste driving you crazy as her hands find your hair, pulling and at the same time pushing you deeper into her. The taste is intoxicating, better than you could have anticipated the entire night, watching her and these scenes replaying in your mind. But nothing could have prepared you for this view, head thrown back in pleasure, hardened nipples peaking through her white shirt.

„Sweetie just like that“ she whispers, small whimpers falling from her lips as you begin sucking her clit faster, occasionally travelling lower and entering her, taking turns as you know it drives her crazy. It doesn‘t take long before the grip on your hair gets tighter, her hips pushing into you more as she needs to feel you. You are quick to take the hint, meeting her eyes now as you silently ask for permission, something the both of you cherished and would always do, despite the urgency. She nods with a smile before two fingers enter her, slowly and gently at first to adjust. Once her eyes close and head throws back in pleasure, you pick up the pace, mouth locked onto her clit as you suck her juices, making popping sounds as you occasionally let go of it, your fingers pumping in and out of your girlfriend as her legs begin shaking.

„God.. baby.. please don‘t stop“ she begs and there is something about the way you are having her right now, on your knees, Liv begging for you to make her cum as you are knuckles deep inside her, tongue licking rushed circles around her clit. When her thighs begin trembling, hips pushing further into you and back arching on the chair, you can tell. And by the time her desperate eyes meet you, you use the last of your strength to fasten your pace, fingers moving fast in and out of her before you feel her juices coating you seconds later. She refrains herself from screaming, knowing where you both are, biting down her moans as she slowly comes down from her high. Her chest heaves, breaths coming uneven as you slowly adjust the pace and let her ride it out, your tongue travelling lower and collecting her cum before you slowly stop, letting her adjust and find her breathing again.

Once her eyes opens and find yours, you blush under her intense gaze, seeing her chest heave still as she pulls you up onto her lap, and you gasp at the sudden change in position. Her lips find yours, tasting herself on you as her tongue enters your mouth, fighting for dominance as she was usually always the one in control and on top. „Was that what you wanted all night sweet girl?“ she whispers in your ear and you nod into her, suddenly feeling your confidence wavering, despite having succeeded. „Let me return the favor“ she moans into you as she pushes you both forward with her chair, your back gently hitting the back of her desk as she stands, holding you in her strong arms before sending the contents of her desk flying, laying you down gently before standing and hovering above you.

She takes her sweet time, undressing each part of you slowly as she admires every inch of your body, mouth trailing kisses down your body as your moans errupt her office. You can‘t help but look into her eyes, pupils blown as your eyes trail off, looking at her tie and how messy her hair is. You are so caught up in it that you don‘t realize her mouth is hovering above you, eyes asking you for permission as you quickly nod. „Liv please“ you whimper as she begins licking through your folds, her fingers teasing your entrance as you buck your hips. She enters you slowly, collecting some of your juices before standing, her free hand taking your hardened nipples into her hands.

Olivia is quick to bring you close, your panties having been soaked most of the night and bringing her to her own release only adding to how close you are. But she can tell you need more, the way your hips buck, face begging her and in a swift motion she turns you around, face firm against her desk as she stands behind you. Her fingers move back into your pussy with ease as she uses her other hand to grab your ass. You meet her halfway as you move into her fingers, needing more. „Please Liv, I‘m so- close“ the words are barely a whisper as you struggle through your moans, tears stinging in your eyes how good she is making you feel. Her free hand fists your hair as she pulls it, harder than you anticipated causing you to whince.

The slight pain causes you to falter as you bite your lip hard, trying not to scream. „Liv I‘m gonna“ you moan but she is already hovering above you, her mouth close to your ear as she nibbles on it. „Cum for mommy“ she coos and that‘s enough to send you over the edge, the bliss of it all causing you to force your eyes shut. Your orgasm washes over you in waves, cum dripping down Liv‘s fingers and onto her desk as you whimper softly. Your girlfriend gives you time to ride out your orgasm before she lets go of your hair and pulls her fingers out. Her fingers trail up and down your back, nails scratching the skin gently as she helps you find your breathing again. „Breathe sweetie, you did so well for me“ she coos as she gently turns you onto your back.

When your eyes open you see her smile, causing you to blush again under her gaze, not having anticipated the evening to take this kind of turn. „Turns out I need to wear this more often“ she teases as she hands you your clothes and begins to dress herself again. You nod before putting your clothes back on, helping to pick up the contents of her desk as your legs feel a little like jelly. As you turn to her you watch as she puts on her tie and you bite your lip before stepping forward. With ease you put it on for her, adjusting her uniform incase you would bump into anyone on the way home. After you finish, she places a kiss on your cheek and you move to her ears before going on your tip toes „You know the strap you‘ve been talking about?“ you ask which causes her eyes to widen and head to nod.

„Think I‘m ready to try it“ you whisper causing her to smirk before she kisses your lips, surprised at your sudden boldness as you hadn‘t tried that before. „Okay let me take you home then sweetheart“ she whispers before biting her lip and taking your hand. „I‘m definitely going to wear this more often“ she giggles as she walks you to her car, opening the door for you before she gets in herself, beginning to take you both home before her hand lingers on you, possessively and excited. And if you both knew one thing, this was going to be a long night after all.

[bxllxebxtch]

Touch Me~

WARNINGS: smut, titty play, teasing, begging, fingering, Dom!Billie x Sub!Reader, cursing (i think thats it)

a/n : i am running out of ideas

You and Billie are best friends, but you've had a crush on her for the longest while now. You two share a dorm room in collage which only made things harder for you to see her in certain types of clothing.

"Fuck!" You screamed as you stubbed your toe on the edge of the couch. Billie head spins around in concern and immediately stops what she's doing to see what happened. "What happen?" She asks concerned as you rub your foot. "I just stubbed my toe...no big deal" you say your voice laced with pain and a pinch of embarrassment. "You fucking scared me" she says still a little concerned, Suddenly the reaches out and sweeps you off your feet. You look confused and blush at the closeness between the two of you. "H-Huh ,put me d-down" you stutter a bit flustered by her strength.

She throws you on the bed and kneels down to check for any injuries. "What the fuck are you doing..." you ask, your voice soft. 'Last time you hit something you sprained your wrist, you blush a bit embarrassed. Then she gets up and goes close to your face, her breathe hot against your face making your face turn a light shade of pink "You get flustered so easily.." she says playfully as she leans closer to your face. "U-Uh fuck o-off" she giggles at your stuttering response. She ignores your pleas and leans closer your lips nearly brushing against hers "i don't think i should.." her tone is low, soft and teasing making your face turn more pink.

"Shut the fuck up and kiss me" With no hesitation, her hands grips your waist tightly as she deepens the kiss. Your arms wrap around her neck pulling her closer, Her tongue wraps around yours deepening the kiss making you whimper softly. She pulls away slightly to mumble "Fuck...don't make those sweet sounds.." he hands wander down to your thighs as she leaves a trail of kisses from your jawline to your neck, nibbling and pressing soft kisses on your neck. Her hand lingers on your inner thigh "P-Please...touch me..." You beg softly making her grip your inner thigh. She leaves a trail of kisses from your neck down to your chest, as her hand slides up your inner thigh gently caressing your heated, wet core. You whimper softly as she removes your top and sucks your tits, her tongue swirling around your nipple making you whimper. she pulls your panties to the side and slowly sticks to fingers in you making you gasp and moan softly as you throw you head back in pleasure. "B-Billie.." you moan her name as she thrust her fingers in and out of you. She nibbles your nipple as she plunges her fingers deeper and faster in you as she hits your g-spot, making you moan and whimper. "F-Fuck~" Her fingers hit your g-spot hard making you see stars, as you feel yourself getting closer to the edge. "Cum for me darling" she says her voice soft but demanding making your orgasm hit you hard. She removes her mouth from your nipple with a soft, wet pop as a small string of saliva sticks to her tongue and your nipple. The string breaks as she pulls her head away licking her finger clean, as you pant and breathe heavily. "Good girl~" her voice is low and seductive, She raises her head up a bit and kiss you making you whimper as you taste yourself on her tongue.

[etclouie]

“huh, you like that darlin’?”

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 — summary; fucking your boyfriend when another member of samcro walks in, but you both find something out about you in that moment (Jax Teller x fem!reader)

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 — warnings; smut with little plot, minors do not interact!!!, poorly written smut, unprotected sex, soft sex, p in v, creampie, established relationship, chibs walks in on them(he does knock they just don’t hear it), readers described as drunk the night before(is this a warning??), jax teases reader about chibs walking in, lmk if i missed any !

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 — word count; 939

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 — a/n; yeah, uhm anyways (thinking of early seasons jax)

soa masterlist | main masterlist like jax? join my taglist !

you’d spent the night at the clubhouse with Jax, having drunk a little too much for Jax to have taken you home on his bike. 

you’d woken up alone in his bed and hearing the shower in the next room. eyeing him when he walked back into the room, and his towel wrapped lowly on his hips. 

knowing the look you were giving him had a chuckle spilling from his lips, leading to now. 

he had you sprawled out on your back, arms bracing himself on the pillows around your head, hips rocking against yours at a steady pace.

his voice soft and small, gentle coos leaving his lips. mumbled ‘i knows’ into your ear, while your legs wrapped around his waist and feet locked at the small of his back. arms loosely wrapped around his neck, and fingers tangled in his hair. 

this was more intimate than sex ever normally was between you, it was softer and a lot more gentle. 

tilting your head to capture his lips in a kiss and humming as he deepened it, his tongue pushing past your lips and meddling with yours. 

each thrust of his hips had more moans falling from your lips, breaking the kiss and laying back against the one lone pillow on the bed. your eyes flicking across his face and admiring him, reaching a hand up to cradle his jaw while your thumb soothed across his cheek. 

giggling softly as he tilted his head to press a kiss to your palm before leaning down to capture your lips again, both of you lost in the moment and missing the knock at the door. 

Jax’s thrusts continued at a steady past, coaxing soft moans from your lips. dropping his head to the crook of your neck again and peppering kisses across the skin, back arching up into him. 

with no response from Jax the door opened cautiously, and a familiar Scottish accent sounded in surprise and slight disgust. 

“jesus christ Jackie”

feeling your face heat at the sudden intrusion and hiding your face in your hands, feeling Jax pull away from your neck and glance back at Chibs. 

glancing up cautiously at Jax as he pulled the blankets up to cover your body, remaining inside you as he spoke, his tone laced in faint irritation and your walls fluttering around him causing a muffled groan to bubble in his throat. 

“this is on you brother”

his eyes locked with Chibs’ before nodding towards the door in a silent ask to leave, hearing the Scotsman chuckle before leaving; the door slamming behind him while Jax’s attention turned back to you. 

“sorry bout that, darlin’”

his hands pulling yours further away from your face, and loosely wrapping your arms around his neck once more. feeling the pillows dip on either side of your head while he braced himself again, the slow drag of his hips starting again. 

“felt you clench down on me, hm sweetheart?”

despite the softness of the moment, even if momentarily disrupted, Jax’s tone held a little teasing to it once again. thrusts continuing and low mewls falling from your lips, eyes hooded and keeping hold of his gaze. 

“huh, you like that darlin’? you like the thrill of getting caught like this?”

words escaping you, and a lewd moan coming out in response. eyes fluttering shut as he leaned down to capture your lips again, his blond locks toppling into your face. 

the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room again as he chased both of your climaxes, forehead resting against yours and arms crossing above your head. 

his body blanketing yours and moving impossibly closer to you, peaking up at him to find his gaze already on you. 

“you gonna cum f’me sweetheart? or you want Chibs back in here?”

choking back a whine at his proposition, walls fluttering around him again as the words reeled in your head. 

mind feeling fuzzy and body flooding with heat, the familiar pool of warmth settling in the pit of your belly as his thumb pressed to your clit. 

“fuck, that turn you on? shit- cum f’me sweetheart, that’s it”

the words came out in a groan, his head dropping to your shoulder and his thrusts faltering. lips pressing soft kisses across your sweat dampened skin, and his soft coos flooded your ear. thumb pressing tighter circles to your clit and pushing you over the edge, the coil in your belly snapping as you came with a cry of his name. 

arms tightening around his neck and pulling him down impossibly closer, moaning into his ear while your cheeks pressed together. moans turning into whines, and whines turning into incoherent babbles as his thrusts continued; once met with precision now left sloppy as he chased his high. 

“fuck, that’s my girl. such a good girl f’me darlin’”

the possessive tone in his words had another lewd moan tumbling past your lips, nails scratching across his back and into the sons tattoo. 

a barely coherent cry of his name was his undoing, hips stuttering before stilling completely against you. a jagged rock of his hips and a guttural moan past his lips signified his climax, his cock throbbing in your warmth and his release shooting into you. 

the constant flutter of your walls around him had him spilling every drop, the tightness surrounding him milking him for all he had. 

staying connected and limbs intertwined, his breathing heavy against your shoulder as he slowly started to come down from his high. lifting his head enough to meet your gaze before grumbling out to you. 

“my little exhibitionist, hm?“

requests are open here !

[thanosscross]

Baby - Choi Seung Hyun/T.O.P x reader Part 3 Smut

Summary: After months of being together, everytime you sleep together it feels just like the first time still, but Seung Hyun throws a twist in this time

Warnings: Smut, lots of smut

Seven and a half months, that's how long it had been since Seong Hyun asked you to be his girlfriend, and while you were both reserved in public, you didn't hold back in the bedroom, as more time passed though, the more you learned about your lover, that in reality, the big ego, cocky, outgoing Seung Hyun was just for show, in reality, your boyfriend was basically a big teddy bear, one of the first males you met that was actually in touch with his feelings and fears, and wasn't afraid to admit it. He was your everything at the moment, you both came dependent on each other while still keeping to your independent natures, you could go days without seeing each other, but neither of you would really sleep well or truly relax until you were together again.

"Seung hyun" You whined, desperately trying to wake him up, it was a Saturday, meaning you both had the day free of any responsibilities, and while you had planned a day with your boyfriend, it seemed he had other plans of sleeping all morning. You couldn't lie though, he looked adorable laying curled up under his fluffy comforter, not to mention relaxed and peaceful, sighing you just climbed out of bed in defeat "Fine, I'll be back at noon" You threatened kissing his forehead gently, he just turned away tiredly, pulling the stuffed animal he had used as a pillow with him. You rolled your eyes giggling to yourself as you made your way out of the room looking around for anybody who was awake. "Bo-mi!" You heard the boys shouting in chorus, you just raised your eyebrows at them in confusion "Oh! y/n! We thought you were Seung hyun" Dae-Sung apologized sheepishly, blushing softly "You're fine, you guys are pretty too" You offered with a smile before making your way to the kitchen to get your morning (coffee or tea, just your choice of morning drink). Walking back with the mug, you sat next to Ji-yong glancing at the game they were playing on the tv.

You ended up playing with them for a good two hours before you all just ended up talking, it started out sweet, them complimenting you on how much you've changed Seung Hyun to where he's been a little more outgoing with things, you complimenting them on how hard they've been working lately, until they started interrogating you. "We never you see you anymore!" Ji-yong groaned "Seung Hyun stole you!" Dae-sung added, you laughed loudly hiding your face in your blanket you had wrapped around your body "He's my boyfriend!" You giggled loudly before looking towards him again "We miss you!" Tae-yung agreed crossing his arms "I miss you guys! But I practically live here! I'm right down the hall" You giggled, you could feel your face heating up as they continued "Don't think we can't hear what's happening in there! Oooo Seung hyun!" Ji-Yong teased mocking your words from the other night, whenever you thought you both were alone.

You squealed hiding your face again "Leave me alone! We're literally together! and adults!" You argued giggling loudly before looking to them "You all wouldn't understand, you're children" You giggled, they gasped at your comment before jumping and screaming out whenever they heard your boyfriend cough from the hallway "If I remember right it was, yesss, seung hyun" He stated making his way tiredly to you "You said you'd be back at noon" He frowned, you smiled at him, trying to hide the fact you were extremely flustered by the others knowledge of what exactly you sound like during sex. "Sorry, the boys are upset they don't see me as much" You giggled, Seung Hyun taking his rightful spot next to you on the couch, wrapping his arms around you tightly "They live with you?" He questioned before catching on laughing "Oh my!...you know..you guys are more than welcome to invite her to game or hangout, you just don't" He chuckled, you agreed, resting your head on his shoulder, only now realizing he had no shirt on, Not wanting to put him on the spot about his new found confidence you just smiled even wider hugging him "Not whenever you steal her!" Dae-sung whined, Seung Hyun just smirked "What you mean like this?" He asked before scooping you up with ease rushing to your bedroom, you screamed holding onto him tightly, not liking the fact he was running around corners with you in his arms.

As you got back into your room he smirked at you "Oh god, what do you want, my love?" You asked resting your hands on the base of his neck, admiring his eyes as he slowly lowered you down to your feet "You look really good in my clothes" He whispered stepping closer to you "You look really good with no shirt" You complimented, your words brought a bright pink hue to his cheeks as he blushed "You had my shirt" He protested shyly, you just shook your head giggling kissing him softly, Seung Hyun had other thoughts, taking the back of your neck in his hand as he pressed his lips against yours needier and rougher than you did. You just placed your hands in his hair, his other arm going around your waist to pull you closer to him if possible. "What has gotten into you?" You teased as he pushed you down onto the bed "You have changed me" He growled against your neck, you tilted your head to the side allowing him more access as he continued "I feel..more myself with you, you let me live my life while still being a big part of it, you know just what to say, you're perfect" He whispered, you just now realizing his lips were pressed against your jaw "You're so sweet, but I didn't change anything, you did that, Seung Hyun" You smiled, moaning softly whenever he started to leave a trail of hickeys across your neck "See? Just what to say" He smirked against your skin, before pulling away to make eye contact with you "I love you" He said, causing you to stare at him in shock, you watched the emotions run over his face "I love you too" You finally found yourself saying looking into his dark eyes, his smirk returned before you pressed your lips to his.

Gasping as Seung Hyun lined himself up with your entrance, you glanced up to look at him, his eyes were trained between the two of you, more concerned about getting everything right so he didn't hurt you. You slowly raised a hand to his cheek, tilting his head slightly to look at you "You're okay" You smiled, nodding a bit before leaning up kissing him deeply, Seung Hyun took that as his sign to ahead, pushing his dick fully in, bottoming out before he brought his hands to your face, cupping his cheeks as he kissed you deeply.

It didn't matter how many times you guys fucked each other, it would always take you both by surprise, Seung Hyun groaned quietly panting against your lips as he slowly started thrust his hips, You weren't doing much better to compose yourself, running your nails down his back and chest, trying your best to stifle your moans so your eavesdropping roommates wouldn't hear. "gongjunim, baby, easy" He groaned against your lips, it wasn't that it hurt him, he just didn't want to cum this early, not only would it be embarrassing, but he also wanted to savor the feeling before he had a whole new week of writing and recording. You turned your hands from his back to his hands, which he quickly used the advantage to pin them above your head, interlacing your fingers together as the speed of his hips thrusting increased, you whimpered loudly wrapping your legs around his hips, his hand finding it's way to your clit, rubbing a mixture of circles and figure eights against it, pulling away from your lips, he leaned back, getting a full view of you underneath him.

Feeling conscious of everything on your body settled over you as you noticed Seung Hyun's staring, you bit your lip, looking away from his gaze "Baby..look at me" He whispered, resting his free hand on your stomach as his thrusts slowed, whimpering as his dick basically slammed in and out of you. Slowly you looked over to meet his gaze "You're breathtaking my love, just like the most beautiful waterfalls, the most expelling art piece, just like the beauty of true unfiltered pure art, and it's all mine" He whispered, you wanted to giggle, even as he basically taking away your ability to properly walk for the next day, he still finds a way to be as charming as possible. "I love you Seung Hyun" You giggled, pulling him closer to press your lips against his hungrily, between his fingers on your clit and him inside of you, you were desperate to cum, but his speed was like a constantly tease, bringing you to the edge before ripping it away. "Fucking Please Seung Hyun" You moaned, growing frustrated with his teasing antics you threw your head back "Huh?" He teased, smirking, you rolled your eyes, of course, you had done it once before, as a joke, and of course he wanted you to do it again. "I'm not doing that" You giggled "Please just actually fuck me, baby" You asked, purposely pitching your voice lower with a slight seductive tone, Seung Hyun squeezed your hip tightly, not liking the reaction his body had to your voice. He just persisted, only now his lips were attached to your nipple, swirling his tongue to match the movements of his fingers on your clit, you whined loudly, cheeks growing hot with a blush, of course he had to think one of your cringiest jokes was hot.

"Please fuck me, Top, I swear I know all the words to your songs, you're so fucking hot- God damnit please!" You whined, your tone going from annoyed to just frustrated, he just seemed to find enjoyment in your neediness and frustration. "I guess" He smirked against your skin, pulling his lips off with a pop, replacing them with his hand that wasn't between your legs. "Just remember, whenever your legs hurt later, you wanted it this badly" He teased before moving his hips at a pace you swear you had never felt before, you couldn't stop the moan that was pulled from your lips as you arched your back, his fingers increasing their speed on your clit as well. You ran your hands down his back, feeling it arch under your touch, you whimpered as he groaned against your collarbone, trying to stay mindful of the headboard not smacking against the wall.

As you got closer to your orgasm you felt Seung Hyun move your legs slightly higher on his waist, his hand going right back to your nipples after words "I'm not cumming until you do, Gongjunim" He grunted, you just squeezed his shoulders tightly in reply, knowing if he kept up with the abuse on your clit you'd definitely fall apart soon. Before Seung Hyun could say anything else you pulled his lips to yours, desperate to try and muffle your moans any ways you could, your legs squeezing tightly around his waist as your pussy squeezing his cock even tighter if possible. Seung Hyun moaned himself for the first time with you, tilting his head down as he dropped to his elbow propping him up "That's it baby, use me for anything you need" He whispered leaving a final hickey right above your left nipple, you whimpered loudly as you came around him, Seung Hyun waited a moment to catch his breath before grabbing your hips, groaning, still in love with the fact your hips fit perfectly in his hands. You bit your lip looking up at him, this time as he looked between the two of you, he had a different look in his eyes, he bit his lip as he started his pace again, this time alot more sloppy, he felt like he was about to explode, somehow harder than he had been in months, and the way you felt around him wasn't helping the situation, the closer he got to cumming, the worse it got. Noticing his pace starting to falter, you placed a hand on his chest pushing slightly to roll the both of you, positioning yourself to straddle him, you started to roll your hips against his. His grip on your hips tightened as his head fell back "Fuck, please don't stop, baby" He begged, his tone pitched slightly higher "Why would I stop, my love? You look fucking amazing like this" You asked pressing soft butterfly kisses down his jawline and neck, leaving hickeys as soon as you got to his collarbone, knowing that they needed to be hidden in order for him not to be in trouble.

Seung Hyun never realized how hot it'd be to have you on top, especially while having you try to boost his confidence, but here you were and he'd be lying if he said it didn't make his cock even harder if possible. "Fuck! Fuck! Baby I'm so close" He groaned sitting up to bring your lips to his for a very sloppy kiss, a mixture of tongue and teeth connecting as you copied your previous movement, squealing as he dug his nails into your hips, holding them where they were, his hips lifting up to meet yours as he started to cum, you kissed him deeper as you felt the warm liquid spill into you. After a few minutes, Seung Hyun slowly shifted to lay you onto the bed and pull out of you, much to your dismay, you let him, not without giving him one last short kiss. "I swear..everytime is like the first time" He panted as he hid his face in the curve of your neck, you trailed your nails over the back of his hairline and down his neck, feeling him slowly catch his breath, you couldn't shake the thought you had the entire time Seung Hyun said I love you. "Baby?..are you okay?" His deep voice pulled you from your thoughts "I'm amazing..trust me..but..did you mean what you said?.." You asked nervously, now twisting his messy hair in-between your fingers "That I love you?" He asked, almost like he could read your mind, you just hummed in agreement "Of course I meant it, I wouldn't ever say something to you that I don't mean" He said, leaning away to be able to look you in the eyes "I love you, Y/n, You make me feel like a good..happy person" He smiled softly, pressing a gently kiss to your forehead "I love you too, then" You smiled, before starting to sit up "Shower with me?" You offered, he just smirked standing up offering his hand out to you, taking a moment to admire how truly amazing he looked naked. "Oh Y/nnn.." He called out in a teasing tone "You like?" He smirked turning to face you to pull you up out of bed "I very very much like, sir" You replied, placing your hands on his chest as you walked him backwards into the bathroom.

--

You like? No seriously though, I tried my best but everything today kept snapping me out of the zone, so I apologize it's not my usual smutty work

[lostbookmark]

MDNI 🔞

Main Masterlist here

Finding Masterlist here

Summary: After a failed engagement, you move back home and reconnect with your friends. Maybe, just maybe you can find love with someone you never expected.

Pairing: Yoongi x F. Reader

Warnings: Explicit Sex, Swearing, Cheating (Not Yoongi), Fighting, Protected/Unprotected Sex, Toxic Past Relationship,

Genre: Enemies(?) to Lovers, Neighbors to Lovers, Small Town romance. Hurt-Comfort, Slight Angst, Romance

SMUT!

Jungkook, Jimin, and Tae all stood around you as you held a small mason jar that was filled to the brim of jelly in your hands. You had spent all evening following your grandmother's recipe carefully. You had read through it so many times that you probably had it memorized before you even started cooking, but you were still careful and followed it step by step. You watch as each man smeared some red jam on a piece of your freshly baked bread that you made that morning. Chewing carefully, they looked thoughtful as they took in the flavors. They looked at each other. It was like they were having a silent conversation with their eyes that they only understood. You'll take it as a good sign.

“It's good,” Jimin said with a little awe in his voice.

“It's really good,” Jungkook said as he put more on his slice of bread and shoved it in his mouth.

“This is exactly what I was looking for, Y/N. How many different flavors do you think you can do?” Tae asked.

“I'm not sure,” you say. “Her stack of recipes is quite large.”

“Uh oh,” Jimin whispered, and all your eyes shot to look at him. “Yoongi's only member and president of his fan club is here.”

“I bet he's happy,” Tae says sarcastically.

You turn around, peeking around the corner, and see a pretty woman at the front of The Tannie Farms tent. She was playing with a strand of her hair as she leaned toward Yoongi, who was trying to be nice earlier and offered to watch the front so the guys could try your jam. You can feel your stomach drop while watching them. He didn't look interested, but that didn't stop the jealousy from kicking in.

You and Yoongi have done a good job at avoiding each other since the bathroom incident. He was still cordial and gave you a slight head nod if you ran into each other, but that was about it. Neither one of you actually attempted to start a conversation or let your looks linger very long. You can feel the heat start to creep up into your cheeks, remembering how you pressed yourself against him. You certainly remember it at night when you're alone in bed that still rests on the floor.

“I know what happened?” Jimin whispered in your ear, knocking you back into reality. He handed you a piece of paper that looked like a test page from a printer. “Maybe you can return the favor and help him out. I think his girlfriend needs him to sign this.”

“What? No, she's flirting with him. I don't want to get in the way,” you hissed.

“He doesn't like her,” Tae says. “She is a teacher at the middle school. We talked with her class about greenhouses, and she's been drooling after him since. He usually runs and hides when he sees her.”

Jimin makes a shoo-ing motion with his hand as he turns back to his friends and continues to eat. You sigh and take a deep breath. You were never a good actress, and you think that she will probably see right through you.

One…two…three.

“Yoongs, babe, we really need you to sign this,” you tell him as you press yourself into his side and hand him the paper. Yoongi looks down at you with wide eyes, confusion swirling in his dark brown orbs. You swear you hear laughing from behind the tent. Have you mentioned that you need different friends? “Yoongi, sign…please.”

Yoongi looks at the paper and then back at you. You smile at him innocently and blink your eyes with a purpose. You think it finally clicks as he grabs the pen from behind his ear and puts his signature sloppily on the white paper. You turn your attention to the woman glaring daggers at you. You notice that she definitely undid a couple of buttons from her top.

“Hi, I'm Y/N. You are?” You ask her with a pleasant smile on your face.

“Sana, I'm a friend of Yoongi's,” she tells you with a smirk. Oh, she was that type of woman. Game on, baby.

“No, you're not,” he said, handing the paper back to you. Sana's smirk falters a little bit. You wrap your arms around his waist, and you feel him stiffen.

“Oh, well, this is awkward. I'm his girlfriend,” you tell her as you stroke your hand across his chest, making her smirk finally drop. “I've never heard of you before… strange. I need to get back, but you have a wonderful day.”

You look at Yoongi, pursuing your lips. You want to see if he was willing to play along. He didn't move. Moving your finger to your lips, you tap them with your finger, indicating what you wanted. Slowly, he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. Your arms go around his neck, and his hand comes up to rest on your hips. You're not surprised to find that his lips were a little chapped as you always saw him licking at them…not that you ever paid that close of attention to him. You pull away when you hear Sana clear her throat. You smile at her as she glares harder at you.

“It was nice to meet you,” you tell her and walk away.

Your three friends start clapping when you get back to them. Your eyes zero in on the mason jar and see they finished off the jam. You shake your head at them as you continue to look at your empty jar, and they just shrug their shoulders.

“We're growing boys,” Jungkook said, handing the small glass container back to you.

"You're all grown men,” you correct him and take it from his hand. “How did you eat it so fast?”

“You three get back out there,” Yoongi tells them, and they scatter fast. “What was that?” he asks you.

“They told me to do it,” you defend yourself. “They ate all the jam and bread. I wanted you to try it.”

“Don't change the subject,” he tells you, crossing his arms.

“They said you didn't like her. Consider it me owing you one after…you know …. nakedness.” You say quietly.

“Don't worry about it. I didn't see anything,” he mumbled, turning red.

“Maybe, you can stop by tonight? I can rectify this whole thing,” you say as you play with the empty jar. Yoongi gives you a double take. It takes him a few seconds before he nods his head dumbly at you in agreement. “Great, I'll be waiting.”

You didn't actually expect Yoongi to show up. You were finishing up a bigger batch of the strawberry, raspberry combo jelly for next weekend when there was a knock at your kitchen door. You give Yoongi a small smile and wave him in. You noticed that he had changed since that morning. Gone were the baggier jeans and flannel shirt. He changed into more fitted jeans and a white tee-shirt that fit perfectly on him. His hair looked like it might be slightly damp as if he just got out of the shower. He looked good, he looked…confused?

“What?” You ask him as you transfer the steaming pot to a cooling rack.

“You made jam?” he really was confused. “I, I thought,” he can't seem to finish his thought. “I'm such an idiot. I’m just gonna go.”

“Wait, don't go,” you say hurriedly. “ I wanted you to try this, and I also wanted to apologize for what happened on Sunday for real. I mean, even though you were the one to barge into my bathroom. “

“You were screaming,” he defended himself. “How was I supposed to know you were naked laying in the tub?”

“So you did look. You liar,” you said, pointing your finger at him.

“You jumped on me,” he yelled, stepping closer to you. “How could I have missed it.”

“You could have closed your eyes,” you step to him. You are so close to him that you're almost touching him. “You probably got off on it.”

His eyes turned to slits. A heated gaze burns its way through you as Yoongi bends down. Your faces are level, and you suddenly start to breathe a little heavier. Yoongi's stare drops to your lips as he runs his tongue over his own. You follow its movement with wide eyes and swallow hard.

“What if I did?” he whispers, tilting his head to the side. Your heart stops, wondering if you had heard him correctly.

“Yoongi,” you whisper his name, but you think it may have come out as a whimper.

His gaze darkens, and a smirk crosses his face. Yoongi leans in the rest of the way and grazes his lips against your own. He's giving you a chance to pull away. To tell him to stop and you think that you should, but you don’t…you can't. His eyes meet yours again before he claims your lips fully. Lips press firmly against your own as his hands pull your body completely against him. His hold on your hips is tight and needy. His tongue sneaks out and licks your bottom lip, asking for you to open for him. You do, your tongues crashing together like you were fighting for dominance. His hand lightly twists in your hair, tilting your head back, giving him all the access that he needs to plunder your mouth with his talented tongue rolling against yours. You let him have control.

“I haven't stopped thinking about you,” he growls into your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin, causing it to turn slightly pink after he pulls away from your swollen lips. “The feeling of you pressed against me all wet. The way your hands grabbed on to me. I can't get it out of my head.”

You push him away, and he stumbles back in shock. He has to grab your kitchen chair to stop from tripping over and falling onto his ass. You snatch the bottom of your shirt, hastily pull it over your head, and chuck it at him. He catches it, rubbing the material between his fingers as his gaze roams your newly exposed skin. Dropping the shirt onto the floor, he grabs the back of your head, bringing you to him once again. He doesn't waste any time kissing you and pulling your cotton shorts down your thighs, letting them drop to the floor. You kick them away with your foot and reach around to unhook your bra, pulling it off yourself.

“Fuck,” he groans, appreciating the newly exposed skin. Yoongi lifts you by grabbing the back of your thighs and sitting you on the counter. It's cold and you squeal at the sudden temperature change. “Sorry,” he grunts, tearing his own shirt off over his head. “I'll warm you up in a minute.”

His hands work quickly to remove his belt. His eyes never leave your panting figure as you sit and wait for him. You press your legs together as he finally drops his pants and steps out of them. He leaves his underwear on. You're slightly disappointed, but you guess it's only fair. You have yours on, too. Yoongi steps to you and grabs the back of your knees as he pulls your bottom to the edge of the counter. Your legs spread open around his hips, and he steps in between them. Tongues meet again as his hands roam every inch or your naked skin, attempting to take the chill away from your body. Yoongi drops his kisses down across your jaw and lowers his head, kissing a wet path further down until he takes your nipple in his mouth. Teeth lightly bite down, making your arch your back. Your breasts press further in his face, and it has him moaning into them. Yoongi's hand slides over the side of your neck and to your breast, cupping the fullness. His fingers plucking at your hardened nipple on your neglected breast have your hips rolling against his flat stomach, seeking that delicious friction. One of your hands goes into his hair, moving his hair off his face, and your other grabs the cabinet handle as you try to keep yourself upright.

You shiver noticeably as goosebumps break out over your skin as he teeth graze your other nipple. Standing straight, he pulls you flush against him, sharing his body heat. Your tits are smashed against his chest as he wraps his arms securely around you. His breathing has seemed to pick up just as much as yours has. He stares into your eyes for a moment like he’s checking for an answer to an unasked question. Whatever it was, he seemed satisfied as he picked you up from the counter. Yoongi turns and lays you gently on your wobbly kitchen table, pulling you so your ass is at the edge. You ignore the cold shock this time as you reach between your legs and grab the waistband of his underwear, tugging at them

“Is that what you want?” he chuckles, and you nod your head rapidly. “You have to say it. Tell me what you want.”

“I want it,” you tell him and tilts his head to the side studying you. He smirks and laughs at you.

“I don't know what ‘it’ is,” he teases you. His hands run slowly up your thighs, fingers hooking into your very damp panties as he pulls them down your legs. He throws them over his shoulder and spreads your legs open wide. He licks his first two fingers and runs them back and forth over your sensitive clit gently making you hiss between your teeth. “Tell me.”

“I want you to fuck me,” you moan, your hips start to move against his fingers. You wish he would put more pressure on your excited bundle of nerves. “Yoongi, I want your cock.”

That one seemed to do it for him. He spreads your burning core open with his opposite hand, his fingers slowly entering your wet entrance. You sigh at the sensation, but it's not enough. You spread your knees as far as you can,trying to get him deeper. He huffs out a laugh and swiftly bends his head down licking your clit only once before moving his head away. Your hips jump on their own and your hands delve into his hair trying to keep him there. His tongue traces an invisible line on your thigh and pumps his fingers into you faster.

“I knew you would like this. Listen to how wet you are,” he smirks against the soft skin of your inner thigh as watches his own fingers fuck you.

He was right. You were dripping wet. The wet, squelching noises sounded so loud in your quiet kitchen as he worked his magic. It sounded so obscene. You moan. It's been so long since you felt like this. The wanting, neediness of the lust and desire that you have lacked for years. In fact, you’re not even sure that you have ever felt like this. You have yearned for this, and you couldn't believe that Yoongi was the one to give it to you.

“Please, please, lick it again,” you beg wantingly, hips squirming around. Changkyun never did this. He never did a lot of things.

Yoongi doesn't hesitate and dives in. His tongue is unrelenting on your clit, flicking it back and forth with rapid strokes. He pulls his fingers out of you so he can push your legs back by the back of your thighs. It leaves you completely open and utterly exposed to his feasting. His insistent tongue changes pace as he draws achingly slow circles around you. The teasing has you squirming to get closer to his mouth. He takes pity on you and he rests your legs on his shoulders. His skillful tongue works its way into you. This is a whole new spine tingling sensation that you have never felt before. You reach down, taking his hands into your own. Slowly you bring them up to your body so he can grab your breasts. He groans into your pussy as his hands squeeze your tits. Your legs start to shake around his head. Your insides start to tingle and tighten until it suddenly stops.

Pulling back, Yoongi places one more kiss on your clit. You're mad. You were so close and he took that away from you. You were about to voice your displeasure until you watched him lean down and grab his pants. Reaching into his pocket, you see him produce a square foil packet. Yanking down his own underwear, you watch as his hardened cock slaps his stomach as it springs free. He rips open the condom and watches you laid out before him as he slides it on. Leaning over your body he kisses you once more on the mouth,

“How old is this table?” He asks seriously.

“Old,” you tell him, and he nods his head like he expected that answer.

Pulling you off the table, he guides you back to the counter. He presses your front against the granite. Grabbing your hips he pulls them back and he presses his hard cock against your ass, grinding it against you. You roll your hips back further making him groan in pleasure. Yoongi gently places kisses across the naked skin of your shoulder and the back of your neck. Trailing his tongue up the side of your neck, he bites your ear lobe.

“Are you sure you want this?” He asks softly in your ear.

“Yes,” your voice was breathy.

“Fuck,” he whispers. “Okay.”

Yoongi bends you further forward, making your ass pop up more as you are forced to stand on your tippy toes. Reaching between the two of you, Yoongi runs his cock along your pussy before he slowly starts to enter you. You can hear him let out a shuddering breath. He holds still and grips your hips tightly.

“Did he ever fuck you?” he asked you, his voice tight. You nod your head yes and he laughs lightly. “Didn't do a fucking good job then.”

With a quick thrust, Yoongi was buried all the way in you. You moan loud as your hand reaches up and grabs that cabinet handle again, holding on for dear life. Looking over your shoulder, you see Yoongi swipe at his forehead. He must be just as affected as you were. You push your ass back onto him, and his eyes fly to you. Biting your bottom lip, you smile at him and nod. Yoongi places his hands on your shoulders as his hips roll against your ass making your body rhythmically rock forward.

Your head falls forward loosely as you take in the sensation of him inside of you. The way his hands grip your shoulders, keeping control of your body. His thrusts start to speed up, and the counter edge starts to dig into your stomach. You don't care, though. He feels too good.

“Harder, Yoongi,” you gasp.

His hands come down, fingertips trace down your back and grab at your waist, pulling you back against him to meet every thrust. Your body starts to surge forward faster as his hips snap into you as he picks up the pace of his strokes. Sounds of slapping skin pierces the air in your kitchen as your bottom meets his pelvis over and over again. Your eyes start to roll back. Sex has never….and I mean never been this good.

Yoongi pulls out of you and grabs the back of your knee. Swiftly, he brings your leg up to rest on top of the counter. Thrusting himself back into you with a groan and a curse, his hand races down the front of your body over your hip until his fingers land on your clit. Skilled fingers start circling your overly sensitive bud.

“Oh, shit,” you moan and rest your face against the back of your hand.

“I know, I know,” he says breathlessly, continuing his relentless pace. Your heartbeat starts to quicken, your toes start to curl, and the delicious heat begins to spread across your body, making your skin flush. “Look at you, shit.”

“Yoongi,” you whimper.

Your walls start to clench around him as his fingers still work on your clit. Your hand drops down to stop him. He stops the circling and presses against it firmly instead as his cock still works its way in and out of you. Your eyes squeeze shut, your body tenses. You gasp.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Yoongi grunts, giving you one more hard thrust. He stills, and your walls continue to clench around him, milking him for all he's worth.

Dropping his head onto your shoulder, he catches his breath before pulling out of you. Carefully, he places your lifted leg back on the ground. His hand lightly rubs at the knee that was pressed against the granite counter, holding your weight. You stay bent over your counter, afraid to look at him. You don't know what to do now.

“You okay?” He asks, kissing your shoulder.

“Perfect,” you answer.

You look over your shoulder at him, and he smiles at you. For the first time…you truly smile back.

Tagged Readers:

@mar-lo-pap, @bontensbabygirl , @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs , @redragdoll, @svnbangtansworld , @wobblewobble822 , @busanbby-jjk , @pitchblack0309 , @bluesiebirdie

[broidobe]

𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔞𝔯𝔯𝔞𝔰𝔰𝔦𝔫𝔤

requested by @rocketqueen1989x and maybe @xo-myloves??

☾a night of partying turns chaotic when duff fights a flirtatious stranger, leading to a heated argument at home that transforms into fiery, passionate reconciliation☽

☾warnings: smut, violence, substance use, anger, aggression, jealousy, possesiveness☽

⁎⁺˳✧༚guns and roses masterlist

the club is chaos, the air thick with cigarette smoke, the buzz of conversation, and the pounding rhythm of live music rattling through your chest. duff’s arm is slung casually over your shoulder, his fingers drumming idly against your arm as you weave through the crowd. the rest of the guys are nearby, lost in their own revelry, drinks in hand and energy electric.

you’re used to the scene by now—wild parties, a haze of drugs and booze, and the inevitable whirlwind of attention that comes with being at duff’s side. but tonight, something feels a little off. maybe it’s the way duff keeps glancing around, his jaw tight, or maybe it’s the lingering stares from the stranger at the bar.

“he’s looking at you again,” duff mutters, voice low but edged with irritation.

you glance over your shoulder, catching the guy’s eye just as he raises his drink in some half-assed toast. “he’s harmless,” you say, brushing it off, but duff’s grip on your waist tightens.

harmless turns out to be the wrong word.

you don’t even see it happen at first. one second, you’re laughing at something izzy said, and the next, duff is shoving the guy so hard he stumbles back into the bar, glass shattering at his feet.

“she’s with me,” duff growls, his voice rough, barely audible over the music.

the guy scoffs, recovering quickly and throwing a swing that duff dodges with surprising ease, considering how much he’s had to drink. and then it’s chaos—duff’s fist connecting with the guy’s jaw, the two of them grappling as the crowd surges around them, people yelling, drinks spilling.

“duff, stop!” you shout, trying to push through the throng of bodies, but he’s too far gone, fueled by anger and adrenaline.

it doesn’t take long for security to step in, dragging both of them apart. the band gets kicked out with the usual warnings—don’t come back, you’re banned, the whole spiel. you’re fuming as you pile into the cab with duff, the ride home tense and silent except for the occasional snide comment from axl about the whole thing.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

once you’re home, the door barely clicks shut before you round on duff.

“what the hell was that?” you demand, arms crossed as you glare at him.

“he was all over you!” duff snaps, pacing the room like a caged animal. “what was i supposed to do? just stand there?”

“yes, duff! you were supposed to stand there and trust me. it’s not like i was going to run off with him.”

he stops short, turning to face you, his eyes wild and dark. “you don’t get it, do you? seeing him look at you like that—like you were something he could take—” he breaks off, raking a hand through his hair.

“so you thought punching him was the solution?” you shoot back, voice rising to match his. “do you know how embarrassing that was for me?”

“embarrassing?” he scoffs, closing the distance between you in a few long strides. “you think i care about that? i care about you.”

the heat between you shifts, tension crackling like a live wire. his gaze drops to your lips, and you’re not sure who moves first, but suddenly his hands are on your waist, pulling you close as his mouth crashes against yours.

it’s angry, messy, all teeth and tongues as he backs you against the wall. his hands are rough, sliding under your shirt, gripping your hips like he’s staking a claim.

“you drive me fucking crazy,” he mutters against your lips, his voice low and gravelly.

“good,” you snap back, shoving his jacket off his shoulders. “maybe now you know how i feel.”

clothes disappear in a blur, the argument melting away as his hands and mouth explore every inch of you. it’s fast and desperate, a tangle of limbs and breathless moans as he presses you into the mattress. he’s all heat and intensity, his movements almost punishing as he thrusts into you, his grip on your thighs leaving bruises you’ll wear proudly tomorrow.

“mine,” he growls, burying his face in your neck, his teeth grazing your skin just hard enough to make you gasp.

“always,” you manage to breathe, nails raking down his back as he pushes you both over the edge.

when it’s over, you’re both a mess, tangled together and still catching your breath. duff presses a soft kiss to your temple, his earlier anger replaced by something tender.

“i’m sorry,” he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper.

you smile, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “next time, just talk to me, okay?”

he nods, pulling you closer. “okay.”