#trying to let myself be more self indulgent

[milotraflgkl]

.☘︎ ݁˖ Cracking the Shell

.ᐟ WHO: Smoker, One Piece

.ᐟ CONTENT: Smoker is older than you, but that doesn't stop you from being attracted to him. he is apprehensive at first, but slowly... You start to get him to crack. - Suggestive content!, Smoker might be a bit OOC but downbad for reader, same for reader, reader is gender neutral, a bit of a cliff hanger :3

.ᐟ WORD COUNT: 2,078

.ᐟ AUTHORS NOTE: I was a bit self-indulgent with this one, so sorry for the lack of posts. I've been caught up trying to motivate myself into writing and shit, but I'll be trying to write out more stuff plus get requests done.

You thought you knew better. 

Knew better than to catch feelings for you, Captain. But when you started training, you couldn't help how your eyes would linger a bit longer on the exposed piece of flesh that his coat did no justice in hiding. Occasionally, you would get caught by the other marines as you drooled over the way there was a perfect V-line that pointed right down to his crotch, licking your lips as you began to imagine what he had hidden underneath his pants and belt. You have to snap yourself back to reality when someone points out the small dribble on the corner of your lips, and you get back to training, sweat dripping down your forehead, and your uniform practically sticking to you. You never noticed that he caught you, but never made it obvious. He would see you drooling over him, and it would cause him to stare at you as soon as you looked away. He'd watch how your muscles would flex when you lifted certain things and how your brows pinched together in concentration.

He hated the fact he was so oddly attracted to you… no. No, he wasn’t. He quickly diverted his attention away and forced himself to look away as he moved to go off and talk to a different Marine, staring down at them. One thing he always seemed to notice about you was that out of everyone, you met his gaze, stared at him without even an ounce of fear. He felt his eye twitch and he immediately became irritated with the smaller marine below him, before he moved to dismiss them and walked off upset his boots thumping loudly through the hallways as he made his way toward the office, hoping that maybe in the confinements of his own space he would stop thinking about you. You were like a parasite in his mind that one day just slid into one ear while he was asleep, nestled up, and hasn’t left since. He had half a mind to just go to the nurse and check to see if there was a tiny version of you with a bunch of legs in his ear, just to get it pulled out and squashed. 

In the middle of his fantasizing, he hadn’t noticed the small knock. The next one, and then how the knock got louder which knocked him out of his mind causing him to snap up and look at his door with pinched brows before he quickly moved to set his two cigars into his mouth lighting them and grunting for whoever had scared him out of his dream world could be on the other side of the door. When you walked through the door, his facial expression almost softened before he caught himself and cleared his throat. “Why are you here?” He asked you gruffly, “Report, Sir.” Your eyes locked with his as you stepped closer to the desk, holding a file up, gently shaking it to make sure he saw you were telling the truth. He stared at you for a moment before he huffed out and nodded, reaching out his hand for you to place the files into his hand, then you, for whatever reason, let your fingers brush against his fingers. It felt electric, he could swear you had some secret powers. 

“Thank you.” He says, quickly pulling his hand away immediately and throwing the files off to the side before looking down at his desk to stare at something other than you. Now that you were here, the thoughts of you only made things worse. Now you were in the same room as a taunt, trying to make him go insane, and wanted to grab you by the neck, slamming you down on his desk, and his tongue down your throat. He was broken from his thoughts once again by you clearing your throat, “I saw you suddenly leave our training, were we that bad?” You ask him, tilting your head to the side as you let your eyes wash over his face. “No.” He responded quickly again, a small hiss escaping his lips for being almost too eager to shut down your degrading thoughts, “I just had work to get to.” He grunted out, motioning to the page in front of him. You looked down at the paper he was motioning to when you noticed the familiar torn and tarnished paper. Reaching over, you grabbed the bounty and pulled it from the stack. 

He snapped to look up at you, fighting the urge to scold you and yank the bounty back. “You seriously still obsessed with this kid?” You ask him, looking at the picture of Luffy’s bounty. He still had his first one, with the goofy smile and hand in the camera’s way. He huffed at you, “He’s a problem, you should know that.” He tells you with a firm voice that causes you to snap up and look at him, staring for a moment before you just nod to him, “Right.” You hummed out in response before dropping the paper onto his desk again, “Well, duty calls.” You nod your head to him, then do a quick salute before you turn around to walk out of his office. As you turned, you didn’t catch the way that his mouth opened, and his cigar almost fell from his mouth before he quickly shut it to catch it. Leaving the room, and your mark in Smokers mind. 

You noticed how he avoided you every time you were out training, and when he happened to be walking through the yard, he would avoid you in any way he could. If it were not to look at you or even walk in your direction, taking the long, annoying way around the other marines. He was everywhere you weren’t as long as he could be. You were confused. Why did he suddenly decide that, now, of all the times you’ve been a marine and working under his gaze, he decided to start avoiding you? At first, you just chose to ignore it, to move on with your life and continue with your normal duties as a marine. But then it became worse, you would try to give him reports right when he was there, but he’d shove Tashigi in front of him to deal with it. Even she seemed confused. The first time it happened, she just blinked at you in confusion, moving to turn around and ask Smoker what was wrong, but he had already begun to walk off. 

You blinked, watching him take a moment to register that he had just so bluntly avoided you. It irked you, no not just irked you and pissed you off a little. So, being fed up with him avoiding you as if you had some sort of plague or sickness that could affect him, you followed after him. Your footsteps were almost as loud as his were with the boots that he was wearing. You moved to follow after him, and when he got to the office, trying to shut the door, you immediately shoved your foot into the door, letting out a hiss of pain. He snapped to look back at who was stopping his door and trying to keep him from his own space, before he looked up to see your face. He paused as he met your gaze, “You’re avoiding me.” You tell him, slipping your hand through the crack of the door and pushing against his much larger frame, which he did attempt to push back at first before caving, letting you in. 

“I was not.” He tells you with a flat expression, “You very clearly were, I mean, you shoved Tashigi in front of you just so you could sneak away.” You tell him, crossing your arms as you stepped into his office, “Why? Did I do something wrong?” You ask him in your voice, lowering slightly and a small pout on your face, which causes him to tense up, his jaw tensing and quickly untensing as he lets out a deep breath. “You are just too distracting.” He tells you as if it were a normal thing to tell someone, which it wasn't, and it caused you to blink in shock and confusion. “Dis..tracting?” You mumbled out, watching him. “I’m a distraction?” You repeat his comment about you back to him to make sure you even heard him correctly. “Yes.” He responded, turning around, which was a dumb decision on his part cause he got a perfect view of his pink-tinted ears. 

You would step closer to him, your hand reaching up without even thinking about what you were doing to reach up and run your finger along his ear, “I’ve never seen you flustered.” You admitted before realizing what you had just said and done, immediately pulling back, holding your hand in front of your chest with wide eyes, and feeling your cheeks heat up. He froze and turned to look at you with pinched brows, his eyes tracing your face before he shifted to step toward you. “It’s because of you.” He tells you with furrowed brows, “You are… interesting, and looking at you distracts me because then all I think about is you.” He explains to you, brushing his knuckles against your cheek, feeling the heat emitting from it. 

You weren’t sharing where you got the confidence to do this, but you did, immediately moving to lean forward and grab the collar of his coat, pulling him toward you and kissing him hungrily. He would tense up, not giving in to the kiss before he moved to kiss you back, his hands reaching up to cup either side of your neck, holding you there as if he was worried you’d try to pull away from him. You would pull away to take a moment and catch your breath, “I have wanted to do this for so long.” He whispered to you, his lips brushing against yours. “Me too.” You whispered out to him and let your eyes wash over his face, admiring every bit of his face to engrave it into your memory. “Can we keep kissing?” You ask him with your eyes, looking up to meet his gaze, noticing how blown out his pupils were staring down at you. He hummed out, giving you only that a response before kissing you hungrily, pulling you toward him, and grabbing your hips, pulling you flush against him. 

The two of you stumble around, moving toward his desk, your hands finding themselves on the edge of the table and holding yourself up. He slipped his tongue into your mouth, dancing his tongue around your mouth to get a taste of everything and feel every part of your mouth pressing himself against you, capturing you between him and the desk, his other hand reaching up to hold onto the side of your neck. He pulled away a string of saliva connecting the two of you, his eyes staring down a you, his eyes washing all over your face and admiring you that made you nervous as if he had his tongue shoved down your throat. You stared at him, licking your lips, feeling the tingle left over on your lips, you wanted more, leaning closer to him. “I could kiss you for hours.” You whispered out, he chuckled, and moved to lean closer to you as well.

The door creaks open, and Tashigi walks into the room, looking up to see Smoker's back. “Sir, we should talk about [Name]. You’ve been avoiding her like the plague, and I’m worried there is something you are upset over, something that they did.” She rambled on before Smoker slowly turned around to look at her. She looked up at his face before she snapped her eyes down to see you sitting there with puffy lips and a dazed expression. She swallowed, and her mouth was slightly agape before she bowed, “Sorry! Sorry..” She mumbles quickly, turning around and moving to leave the office in a hurry. You just blinked, staring at the door before you broke out into laughter. “I guess I should go make sure she doesn’t… pass out.” You tell him, he grunted and leaned back down to place a quick peck. “Please.” He says before moving to walk off and go sit down at his desk, as you smiled and walked out to try and go catch Tashigi. 

[leounderseas]

Are people still doing these

[welcometogrouchland]

[ID in ALT] I've made posts before about Talia/Dick co-parenting Damian moments (will never happen but let me dream) and this came to me in a vision. Took me ages to finish for some reason 😭 and then even longer to post

[employee052]

this is your reminder to make ur cringy n self indulgent art bc cringe is dead and you gotta live life (I say, despite the fact i still feel a bit cringe but im being so brave abt it)

lettin myself post n do more art for myself so apologies for the more selfshippy art than usual

[windor-truffle]

with every nice comment on one of my fics, I become even more of a Sicko >:)

[rapidhighway]

Anon back again, what's the story to your organic metal au?

The last ask response has given me many questions, why does Metal seem nervous when Eggman greets him?

Eating up this AU, looking forward to whatever you're cooking

i mean theres a lot that has changed and a lot that i havent worked out but the basic idea was that metal somehow became organic (i have no idea how that happened xd) but because he's got no programming eggman cant force him to do his bidding and he rebels against him. He still wants to kill sonic. badly. but doesnt want to be eggmans lapdog anymore. most of this is just pure self idulgent stuff bc i want to put him in situations. a little bit of plot is in there

[omegasmileyface]

starting 2 hate myself in a way i havent since high school, with an intensity i havent since middle school, and with a level of "this is straight up the behavior of a morally bad person" i usually save for my elementary school self. so thats fun

[shotmrmiller]

(Unnamed for now, 4.8k words of nothing but self indulgence because ex bf simon is king. just porn without plot, the usual filth. also i wrote myself into a hole with the smut but whatever.)

If your friends knew that you'd gone to great lengths to look presentable— less cave-dweller, more human— hoping to get lucky tonight only to end up waving off anyone of interest because you're too busy sulking about a relationship you willingly broke off, they'd kick you from the group chat.

(Or never let you live it down.)

But here you are, perched on a barstool, its cracked leather slightly sticky beneath your legs, the cocktail you'd ordered a while ago sitting mostly untouched on an even stickier bar top. Lamenting. Moping all over a guy who hasn't bothered to return a single phone call since you left him the voicemail. And it hadn't been his fault, really. He'd been upfront with you from the get-go; he's a busy man with a job you don't want to know about and are safer not knowing about.

You'd noticed the specific wording he'd used. Not better off but safer off, its implications perilous. The hardened look he'd given you when you'd pressed him on it, hoping for a slip of the truth, had been the first and only warning you'd needed.

Get off his case, understood.

You clench your teeth, irritation nipping at your nerves. You'd like to think that you've mourned this ex-relationship plenty and feeling an acute, smoldering ache again over a whisper of a memory (and not even a fond one at that)—

Time to douse these flames.

Waving the bartender down, you push away the watered-down drink and gesture for a shot. She eyes you warily, hesitating for a moment before sliding an empty glass over and reaching for some top-shelf bottle your bank account already feels the bite of. The fiery burn that courses down your throat resembles the one in your chest.

The alcohol swiftly does its job, offering a sense of relief, and you're grateful for it, even if fleeting. The room starts to blur a bit, the strobing lights overhead bleeding together like a watercolor painting left out in the rain, and you let yourself sink into the moment, the gentle ebb of intoxication pooling heat in your cheeks, warmth seeping into your limbs.

Things don't look so bad now; the world has taken a dreamlike quality to it, with softened edges and vibrant colors. With the liquid courage dulling the sharpness of your previous thoughts and easing the tension in your shoulders, you reckon that now you can start looking for your prey of the evening. It's why you even bothered to slink out of your comfort zone in the first place.

Mission directive: Get laid. Or plan B: go home with a new number saved in your contacts.

You rest your chin on your palm, eyes lazily scanning around the room, taking in the hazy but lively atmosphere. The dance floor is a whirl of energy, couples moving to the rhythm of the music, a group of friends huddling in a corner, hands gesturing animatedly as they chat each other up, and at the front—

If you swiveled away in your chair any faster, the courage you'd knocked back 10 minutes ago would come back up, spilling onto the bar top the barkeep gave up trying to keep clean. There have been numerous instances where your mind plays tricks on you, teasing you with glimpses of big and blonde in your peripheral while out running errands, the miserable lump in your throat only dislodging once you've made your grand escape.

(It's not running away; It's a tactical retreat. You'll face the music when it's less deafening.)

And in keeping with tradition, you settle your tab and scurry off to the bathroom, clutching your bag like a lifeline. A familiar shadow just walked in through the front door, once again haunting you. No matter how many times you whisper reassurances under your breath, dismissing it as a cruel joke your mind loves to play, the semblance of him never fails to arouse a bit of panic in you.

The trip to the bathroom feels like you're trekking across the country, weaving in and out and around crowds of people, dodging flailing limbs like an extreme sport. The inside is relatively small and cramped; three stalls for the entire bar. It's blessedly empty, so you beeline to the sink, hoping for a splash of cold water to settle your nerves.

The water is startlingly cold, or maybe it feels colder because you're flustered, and you're mid air-drying your hands when you hear it: that unforgettable gait, heavy and solid, like a tank rolling over rugged terrain. It's something that you can still hear echo in the small confines of your flat when the world is quiet. The mirror in front reflects your tense face, its edges cloudy with time and poor-quality cleaning solutions.

Get a grip, you're losing it.

Until the door swings wide, hinges screeching as it gives way with no resistance, and you realize that you're not losing it. But you just might.

"'Ello, poppet."

Incredulity forces a chuckle out of you because it's either you laugh or you cry.

"Nice," he eyes the cracked tile beneath your feet, "choice for a night out. Beer's more piss than ale, though." The door closes behind him.

The mockery in his voice is wildly unwarranted, especially for a man you haven't heard from for a better part of the year, and you finally gather your wits to bite back indignantly.

"What? It's not your cuppa? I always assumed you ratted out in seedy holes like this." The bruise-tight grip you've got around your bag makes your fingers ache. "I'll be sure to pick a more refined place for you next time."

He wastes no time closing the gap between you two, your three steps back negated by his single one with laughable ease, and the space around you seems to shrink, his presence swallowing it whole. You'd forgotten just how large a man he was— is.

A different beast altogether.

"No need. We won't be comin' back 'ere again." Your brows quirked at that. He's gone and learned French, apparently. Oui. You try to keep your personal bubble intact by taking another step back only to come in contact with a stall door, its chilly surface forcing your spine rigid. Cornered, caught in the crosshairs of the hunter's gaze, and the intensity of it makes you feel vulnerable, bare, as if you're staring up the barrel of a loaded gun.

"Easy, lovie, no need to look at me like tha', 'm jus' 'ere to talk," he says with a tone that's tinged with condescension, and his giant mitts are up and palms facing you like he's dealing with a skittish animal. There's a thought there, buried deep, that you refuse to acknowledge.

"Talk?" The question bursts out before you can stop it, followed by a sardonic laugh that feels unexpectedly cathartic as it leaves your mouth. Talk now, when you not only kept your line of communication open but also actively tried reaching out for weeks? Weeks spent waiting for a response, foolishly hoping he'd give a damn enough to at least put up a fight for you and what you had?

He tilts his head slightly, eyes unreadable. "Better late than never," he remarks, but that's the problem, isn't it? You were forced to come to terms with never, whether you liked it or not. And you had not liked it, but it had been necessary. To know there was a part of his life you weren't welcome to, regardless of reason, was something that shadowed your interactions. The realization that you were kept at arm's length due to the duality of his life was too bitter a pill to swallow.

It'd been a painful process making peace with the fact that maybe things just hadn't been meant to be. C'est la vie and all that tripe. But now, here he stands before you, having materialized out of thin air, a bloody intrusion upon the fragile peace you've built for yourself— it feels like a mockery of the emotional distress you've had to endure.

"Better late than—? You honestly fucking think you can just," you stumble over yourself in disbelief, "just corner me in a tiny bathroom of a dingy bar to talk?"

Simon raises one bulky shoulder, unconcerned. "You chose the place."

His piss poor attempt at a joke is like a slap in the face. "Right. Goodbye, Simon." You step around him briskly, your arm brushing against his. Just as your fingers graze the cold metal of the door handle, his encircle your wrist and gently pull you away. The span of his palm could easily engulf the entirety of your hand, and you can't help but wonder if you're as delicate and fragile as you feel in his grasp.

"Let me try that again," he murmurs tentatively, and you curse your good nature— the one that's always been too quick to soften even when you know better. You know just how clumsy he is with words, how his tongue ties itself in knots when emotions creep into the conversation. Simon gives your wrist a tender squeeze. "Ya can leave whenever you want."

Damn it. Damn it. Fine. This confrontation has been a long time coming anyway. "Then try again and make it fast," you snap, words short and clipped. "How we haven't been kicked out of here yet is a bloody wonder."

He steps away from you and leans his hips against the sink, arms crossed over his chest. Here Simon stands, no longer a hazy apparition in the corner of your eye but fully here. Real. Uncomfortable so. You shift your weight from one foot to the other.

"Didn't mean to disappear on ya," his tone carries a note of something resembling regret. "Work took me across the world, couldn't reach out t'you even if I wanted to." And there it is, the crux of the problem. His job. Always his job. The one part of his life you've never been allowed to see, what had been the ever-constant shadow hanging over your relationship. What tore him away from you for weeks at a time only for those same gaps to start getting longer and longer while his stays grew shorter.

That's not good enough.

"So that's it?" Simon cannot honestly expect you to take his paltry excuse and run with it. As if it's enough to stitch together the wound his silence left behind. "Work? That's what you're going with?" It's the audacity that stings the most, the hope that you'd simply accept it and move past all of this heartache.

For all you know, he could be lying through his teeth, spinning enough truth to make it seem believable. You must have your suspicions plastered on your forehead because Simon peels himself off the sink with a sharp breath and narrowed eyes.

"'M many things, love, but a liar ain't one of 'em." His hand disappears into the front pocket of his worn denims, and when he pulls it free, you instantly recognize the tattered, frayed edges of his wallet. Still clinging to life, it seems. As stubborn as the man holding it. He opens it and extends it to you because it's imperative you see...?

"Work." And right there is an ID, not your plain old driver's license, which you're unsurprised to see absent. The man has no business being behind the wheel of any vehicle; he's a threat to all life and limb while on the road— but a military ID, the insignia emblazoned on the card unmistakable. You'd pieced together as much but never fully assumed, never formed a picture, just a blurred outline that left more questions than answers.

Name: Simon Riley. Rank: Lieutenant. Special Forces is right above the square where a photo is supposed to be. "There's no picture." You flash your eyes up at his in question.

"Never," he states.

You swallow thickly. An admission, this is. A roughly hewn olive branch tucked away in the ratty wallet you'd told him to toss ages ago. He snaps it shut with a practiced flick and then rucks up the right sleeve of his jacket up to the crook of his elbows, exposing his forearm, stark and freckled, the skin pale but then closer to his wrist, his flesh taking on a more golden hue— honeyed, sun-kissed.

Simon Riley does not tan.

"Sat on my arse out in a barren stretch o' land f'r months on end, cookin' under the blazin' sun while waitin' for orders tha' never came," he grumbles, voice weary. He doesn't flinch when your wandering fingers feather across the darkened strip of skin. "The only form o' communication was local." You flip his hand, the underside of his wrist startlingly pale like the underbelly of a fish. "Couldn't 'ave reached out even if I wanted to. No signal."

It hangs heavy, what he was willing to share, and you're wondering if he's only asking for understanding or something else. Your treacherous heart flutters in your chest, breath squeezing from your lungs. A tiny part of you hopes for he's asking for that something else.

There's a new scar on his palm, close to the hardened calluses on his knuckles, the deep, puckered groove still red and raw— fresh enough to make you wince— and you can't help the frown that pulls at your lips. You can bet he took care of this himself, the oaf. Probably spit it clean and wrapped it up with whatever he had on hand. He's lucky it didn't infect.

"Only when I came back did I receive the missed calls, the texts, the bloody voicemail," he gnarls, and while the sharpness of his tone isn't aimed at you, you feel the biting sting of it anyway. Simon cradles your hand in his much larger one, and he doesn't squeeze, doesn't hold too tight; he simply holds it, the choice to refuse him if you wanted.

You don't.

"And this isn't something you could've told me before? I know I pressed when I shouldn't have," chagrin pools in your cheeks, "but I worried for you. You were sometimes so unreachable, standing between two worlds at once. I couldn't help ease the weight of your responsibilities because I didn't know what I was dealing with." As you thread your fingers with his, they feel impossibly small, brittle— like the bones of a bird swallowed in the expanse of his hand. How unsettling.

(Yet you wouldn't have it any other way.)

Simon shakes his head, slow and deliberate, but his grip on your hand tightens. "I've more enemies than friends," he mutters, raising your hand to his masked lips, the gesture oddly tender as he presses a kiss on it even though it forces you to rise onto your tiptoes. You blow a puff of air, mildly exasperated. Big geezer.

"Every time I rid myself o' one, two take their place. I only did it t' keep ya safe. There's nothin' they'd love more than to exploit any o' my weaknesses." He says it as though the admission itself is dangerous, and maybe it is, but the risk, you believe, is one worth taking even if he won't.

Where he sees danger, you see trust. And that's all you ever wanted. Trust, because either you'll have all of him or none of him, so you tell him that.

His grip tightens imperceptibly. "Only wha' I feel is safe f'r you to know. Nothin' more." You know he means it. You've seen how far he's willing to go, how much he's willing to sacrifice, to keep you out of harm's reach.

Simon will shoulder just about anything alone if it means you'll be kept safe.

How lovely. He's taken it upon himself to play Batman when no one cast him into the role. Ah, well. A win is a win, and you've long learned some battles aren't worth the effort today, so you tuck this conversation into the back of your mind, a note to revisit at a later date. As for now, though...

"Alright, Si," the old nickname slips from you so easily, as if it never left, "We can continue this tomorrow, if you're able, but as for me," your gaze flickers to the faint ring of grime around the drain and the scribbles covering the peeling walls, "I've just about had it with this place."

But he's got no interest in letting you go now, not when you've given him the second chance he'd been desperate for. Instead, he jerks you to him, your shoulder colliding into his chest, his arms cinching tight around you. There is no grace, no soft pretense to it— just a raw, unfiltered need of a man clinging to what he's been too afraid to lose; your arsecheeks apparently because that's what he's currently pawing at.

Pervert. Honestly, you'd applaud him for holding back from groping you for this long. No shame in giving credit where it's due. You thought about letting him have his fill, indulging his starved-dog behavior until his hands started to wander beneath your clothes. You ought to make him stop this before it spirals into something completely out of your control.

Ah, but then he latches onto the sensitive spot on your neck, right below the ear, so close to your drumming pulse and your words snag in your throat like fishhooks when he suckles.

It's tragic how quickly you cave.

Simon's breath fans hot over your spit-slick throat, slow and composed while yours is sharp and shallow as if you can't quite catch it. He jerks his head toward the stall, and you freeze, disbelief rooting you in place.

"You're joking." He's gone and lost whatever scraps of sanity he had left back wherever he was because there's no way you're getting down and dirty in— your lip curls in distaste as you look at the industry-grade bottle of disinfectant that sits in the corner— here. But then he's dragging you toward the nearest stall anyway, your bag tumbling to the ground, not my bag, Simon, shit, you owe me another. The door is a pitiful excuse for privacy, barely clinging to the hinges and sporting a gap wide enough to make you grimace. You've hardly any time to register anything else before Simon is already at your feet, smoothly dropping to one knee, the crown of his head dipping slightly below your navel.

Simon's hands cup the back of your thighs, palms spread wide as they trail upward, the tips of his fingers finding lace and not your everyday cotton. With a deliberate slowness, he lifts the hem of your skirt, his neck craning just enough to bring his line of sight under the drape of fabric, and his gaze lingers.

Oh right. You've got on that set— the one he'd carefully chosen for your birthday, that one that fits you so perfectly it almost feels unfair. A little indulgence that'd been meant for his eyes only. Even as you'd slipped it on earlier tonight, it'd felt like you'd been breaking the rules.

It makes you wonder...

You hook a leg over his shoulder, the heel of your shoe digging into the straight plane of his back. "Well?" Your question is wrapped in feigned nonchalance. "Does it make you upset?" Simon shrugs, dismissive, his eyes steady as they lock onto yours. The dim light above buzzes faintly, its unkind glow spilling over his rugged face. It does nothing to soften the sharpness of his features.

And you notice a new scar, tiny, close to his hare's lip.

"Doesn't threaten me, sweet'eart."

A sharp laugh escapes you. How infuriatingly arrogant. Simon leans in, his nose brushing against your sex roughly before he takes a crude sniff, unrestrained, unapologetic. Nasty as always.

The faintest smirk curls the corners of his lips. "Can't blame me, my girl and I 'ave been apart f'r too long." Humming, you place a hand on his head, palming over the short bristles of his hair before curling around the back of his neck, and you grind down on him.

"If you're hungry, then eat." The smile you give him after your gracious offer is nothing short of salacious.

Simon thumbs your gusset to the side and slips his tongue through your folds, and it's electric, raw. Frissons ripple through you, starting from your nape, and it cascades down your arm and your legs, and the sensation is sharp, almost overwhelming, and you bow forward, nails digging into the dense muscle of his traps.

It's been so fucking long.

Hot, wet pressure circles around your swollen clit, purposefully shy of what you covet, enough to stir something within you but not enough to satisfy— nowhere near enough. It makes you testy. Impatient. It pushes you to lose control, feeling it slip from his grasp, only to land squarely in his.

It's the exact reaction Simon craves. You can grind down on the tip of his nose all you want, push and pull at his head every which way, but you don't come without his say so, and to earn that, there's something you have to do.

By the way your teeth sink into your bottom lip, bite-swollen and glossy with spit, peering down at him with bleary eyes after having rutted against his face without restraint, frantically seeking the friction you yearn for, you also know what to do.

Good.

Now he waits. Your pussy is dripping slick, dewy honey trailing down his chin and joining the sticky mess pooling near his knee, but he doesn't care— his focus is entirely on you. Simon knows exactly how this will end. You're as mulish as ever, he muses, but you'll break. You always do. It's not a question of if but when, and he's content to wait as long as it takes for the inevitable. After all, he's a patient man when he chooses to be.

Your chest heaves with every ragged draw of air to your lungs, your pretty lips quivering with need, eyes shimmering with unshed tears. If he had the skill, he'd pencil this very moment onto paper, immortalizing it. The desperation that clings to your features, the frustrated grunts you give when he laps at your— his— cunt, tongue skimming just shy of your pearl.

It's intoxicating. A heady visceral rush that courses through his veins and pools white-hot in his groin, stiffening his cock almost painfully.

And then, when a finger dips into your sopping entrance, the composure you'd been desperately clinging to begins to come apart. Simon watches it unfold through heavy-lidded eyes, the gentle part of your lips, the tremor in your breath— he drinks up every single second.

"Please," your voice is barely more than a breadth of a whisper. Your surrender is almost as sweet as you.

The kiss he plants on the inside of your thigh is searing as he hums. "What's it?" The prickly stubble of his jaw scratches against your skin. "Don't lose ya courage now," he murmurs, "you've already fought 'alf the battle.

Heat licks up the sides of your jaw, but you truck on, dignity long lost, in tatters next to your bag on the floor. "Please let me come." Your words come out in a half whine, half plea, and Simon's response is immediate; he cants your hips as two thick fingers enter you fully, and at this angle, it's more than he knows you can take, but you asked for it. Begged for it.

Simon takes it slow, not easy, the suction on your clit maddening; strong, fluttering pulses that seemingly beat in tandem with your heart and the world begins to tilt on its axis, his strong hands keeping you anchored lest your knees give way beneath you.

The world narrows down to the sound of your hiccups, the tension coiled spring tight below your navel, the feel of his shirt knotting in your fist— if he had hair long enough to tug, you would've ripped it out.

You knock your head back against the door almost violently, the dull throb stamped out by the livewire crackling beneath your skin when you finally do come, a scorching heat radiating from within your core out, leaving a raw, tingling sensation in its wake. It stings, you dazedly muse. The orgasm that was wrenched from you was so thunderous your pussy stings. It's short-lived but potent, and you can't help but wince, your lips curling, teeth slightly bared in discomfort.

Ouch.

Simon, on the other hand, is just peachy, unbothered as ever, leaned back on his haunches, chin glistening with slick, his thumb sweeping what's about to drip off his nose.

"Don't think for a second I'm returning the favor here. I've standards, Simon." He huffs in response but says nothing, expecting nothing less of you, instead opting to shrug his jacket off and place it over your drooping shoulders. Your limbs feel leaden as you exit the stall, Simon nimbly reaching for your health hazard of a bag before leading you toward the door.

Your fingers curl around the knob, and twist and pull—

and nothing. Confusion knots your brows together as you retrace your steps. Had you pushed or pulled it open? You can't quite recall, so you give it a firm push it instead—

and nothing. Again. The door stays closed.

"Need help there?" Irritation sparks within you, wishing your glare would eviscerate the obstinate door. Does Simon think himself funny? All you want is to go home, scrub yourself sparkling clean, and sleep until the late afternoon, but the door is conspiring against you. Good. Great, even.

"Bloody door," you grumble, "It won't open." Simon steps forward, unhurried, and twists the handle once, twice—

"Open sesame," he says, tone utterly flat and casual, and you snap your slackened jaw shut. "Oh for fuck's sake, Simon, keep your shit jokes," but the door opens with a click.

You're joking.

You're fucking joking.

It swings wide with a creak, and you glance around instinctively. Nothing out of place— just the usual drunken bodies flowing in and out, their laughter and slurred conversations blending into the background.

Simon drapes a heavy arm around your shoulders, large hand squeezing firm as he walks you out, and you trudge alongside, your gait sluggish, until a massive bulk stumbles into your path, and Simon quickly places himself between you and the drunken mass, both a protector and a threat.

The bloke is a guy with a row of thick hair that runs from his forehead to the nape of his neck, the sides clean shaven. "Sorry, bonnie, didnae mean ta-" limpid blue flashes to Simon, his thin-lipped smile stretches wide— too wide— flashing too many teeth for comfort, "bump into ye." He doesn't linger though, clodhopping his way back to the bar. There's a bold-lined tattoo on his nape, of a... revolver? A choice.

"Walk. I'll take ya home. Won't come in for a nightcap," the lines by his eyes becoming more pronounced. "Scouts 'onor." Simon pulls you along, and you're fighting off the sleep in your eyes when a man in a cap, his profile partially hidden by the brim, bumps his knuckles against Simon's shoulder, and curiosity outweighs your fatigue.

"Who's that?"

Simon grunts. "Security."

You don't remember having been frisked by security when you came in.

The crisp air outside bites your cheeks when you step out, and you're grateful for Simon's forethought as you tug the sides of his jacket closer to you, burying your nose into the collar— it smells of cigarette smoke and him, musky and woodsy— a quiet comfort. Sleep tugs at your eyelids, each step feeling heavier than the last as you make your way towards his vehicle.

The metal door groans as it opens, and he extends a hand, aiding you up when you squeeze it as you slur out a confession.

I missed you.

He doesn't falter in his movements as he guides both your feet inside, and his hands are steady as he adjusts the belt, buckle quietly clicking into place until he straightens, gaze dark and fluid as it lingers on you.

He runs the rough pad of his thumb along your bottom lip tenderly.

"I know, sweet'heart. Get some sleep."

The door closes with a firm but gentle push.

I know, he says. Exhaustion pulls at you, dragging you further away from consciousness. Bastard.

Simon doesn't wake you when he pulls up to your driveway, hooking an arm under your knees and the other around your waist to take you inside, your head lolling on his shoulder. Tomorrow, you'll ask him how he knows where you live, considering you moved for a new job months ago.

[starcrossedmusings]

Pretty Hands

Pairing: best friend!Yunho x f!reader WC: 3.2k Warnings: eventual smut, reader has a thing for Yunho's hands (who doesn't??), swearing, fingering, choking, a little bit of degradation (he compares her to a whore literally once), PRAISE so much praise, Yunho talks reader through it (you're welcome), pov is kinda all over the place just let it be, Yunho is absolutely WHIPPED for reader teehee, probably some other things that I missed (let me know)

Summary: You and Yunho have been friends for years, and you tell each other everything. He suddenly takes a much more vested interest in your love life when you can't stop mentioning your newest interest.

A/N: This is entirely self indulgent and also I just wanted to get something full posted. The Phantom fic is turning out to be much longer than I originally anticipated (and so did this one once I started writing it). Let me know what you think♡

Stepping into Yunho's apartment had always felt like coming home, and today was no exception. You take your shoes off in the tiled entryway and pad your way through the main living area, calling out to him as you walk.

"Yun? I'm here!"

His muffled response flows down from the end of the hall, "Bedroom!"

You make your way through the back hallway and enter his room, finding him exactly where you thought he would be, focused in on his computer. There's a selection of empty drink cans and snack wrappers scattered around his desk, which tells you that whatever he's currently building on Minecraft has probably occupied the majority of his day so far. He pauses the game and turns his chair to face you.

"Whats up?"

"Got bored at home and my roommate isn't even trying to muffle her pornstar moans for her new boy toy."

Yunho barks out a laugh, "Does she seriously sound--"

"Just like it Yun I can't make this shit up. I'm starting to think maybe they're recording themselves in there."

Yunho wiggles his eyebrows as he stretches his arms up and over his head, leaning back in his chair. "Well, if I ever see your living room on Pornhub I'll be sure to let you know"

You crinkle your nose. "Ew. I do NOT need to know that."

"Whatever, don't act like you haven't been talking to me for weeks about how horny you are. If I have to hear about your vibrator dying one more time I'm gonna buy you a new one myself."

"You try getting unintentionally edged three nights in a row with a full charge, it's some bullshit Yun. Besides, I'm allowed to complain about my dry spell."

Yunho scoffs, tone playful and lighthearted. "Dry spell? It's been what? Two months?"

"It's been three thank you very much." You move to sit on his bed.

"Well some of us haven't had sex in much longer."

"Oh, please, that girl that San was messing around with was all over you at his birthday party last month, don't tell me you didn't take that opportunity."

Yunho raises his eyebrows in shock, leaning forward in his chair. "Wait, really?"

"Oh my GOD Yun you are so oblivious. Yes really. She was all giggly and twirling her hair and shit. That's like...girl flirting basics."

"I am not oblivious, I am actually quite observant. I could tell you things about yourself you don't even know. I just have my sights set on someone and that someone is not her."

You shoot him an incredulous look and snort out a laugh, leaning back to lay down completely on his bed, legs dangling off the edge. "Sure Yun, whatever makes you feel better."

You hear Yunho stand from his chair and feel his weight shift onto the mattress. He appears in your vision, a challenging playful sparkle in his eyes as he peers down at you. "Okay, fine. I can tell that you're trying out a new perfume, you just went shopping because your leggings are a different brand than you usually wear, and I know that you washed your hair last night because you're wearing it all the way down today."

You do your best to ignore the way your stomach summersaults at his attention to detail about you and your routines. You roll onto your side and prop your head up on your elbow, matching his challenging gaze. "Okay Sherlock Holmes. What kind of underwear am I wearing then?"

Yunho pauses to consider before responding "a thong, probably black." You grin triumphantly and lean in just a bit closer.

"Wrong. I'm not wearing any. You lose!" You stick your tongue out playfully at him and he swats your shoulder, falling back onto his mattress.

"You set me up!"

"Face it Yun, I'm just better than you."

"Yeah yeah, whatever" Yunho pouts, voice hightening slightly from surprise. He can feel a slight redness creeping up his ears and prays his hair has grown long enough to cover it. 'I'm not wearing any.' He clears his throat. "So why go commando? You finally planning to seduce your new conquest?"

"He is not a new conquest, he doesn't even know I like him."

"He will once he knows you aren't wearing any underwear for him" Yunho jokes, smiling cheekily. You smack at his chest.

"I didn't want to do laundry last night, asshole. Get your mind out of the gutter!"

"You're one to talk" he mutters under his breath.

You sit up fully and reach for one of the pillows at the top of his bed, slamming it down on his face. "Jeong Yunho I swear to god!" On your second swing, he manages to catch the pillow with one hand and pry it from your grasp, but not before giving you an entirely unhelpful image of his long fingers gripping the plush material.

"What?? All I ever hear you talk about lately is how tall and handsome this dude is and how much his hands make you drool."

"You sound jealous."

"I'm not jealous, I'm pissed that I have to hear all about him and don't even get to know what the dude's name is."

"I told you, I'm gatekeeping this time. You run your mouth too much."

"I do not!"

"Do too."

"Ugh FINE whatever," Yunho chucks the pillow back towards you and you dodge it, leaving both pillows on one side of the headboard, "You're so agitating."

"You know you love me Yun. But just for the attitude," You adjust both pillows and shuffle your way back until you're leaned against both of them, "no pillow for you for tonights doomscrolling session."

He huffs a laugh and scoots up to meet you, pulling out his phone and settling in against the headboard.

An hour later you get up to go to the bathroom, and when you get back Yunho has stolen both of his pillows. You frown and cross your arms. "Hey, asshole, those were mine!"

"Yeah?" He taunts playfully, "Well they were mine to begin with, and my back is killing me. So deal." You roll your eyes and cross back over to the bed, crawling over the side you've been sitting on and curling yourself into Yunho's side to rest your head against his chest. You feel him tense slightly underneath you before he moves one of his arms around your shoulders to let you lay more comfortably.

"There's no way in hell I'm sitting up against that cold ass metal frame you call a headboard." You mutter as you begin scrolling. Yunho's chuckle rumbles through his chest and tickles your cheek. You both sit in silence for a while, content to scroll on your phones. Eventually, you turn to look up at him from his chest.

"I meant to ask how your new project has been going. Whatever you were building when I came in looked pretty intense." You can see the faint tinge of red trail up his ears and neck--a telltale sign that whatever you caught him building makes him embarrassed. You sit up, propping your weight on your elbow and placing a hand on his chest to shove him slightly. "Ooooo now you have to tell me what it is!"

"It's embarrassing..."

"Tell me tell me tell me tell me--"

"Okay fine, fuck. I'll tell you if you promise not to laugh--"

"I won't I swear!"

"Pinky promise?" He holds his pinky out to you, and you raise a hand from his chest. Before you can lace your pinky in his, he pulls his hand up above his head. "I'm serious, Y/N, if you laugh I'll have no choice but to tickle you to death."

He's definitely not stalling because he has to come up with a reply, because he certainly hasn't been building a treehouse for you in what he hopes will one day be a shared server. Yunho thinks to himself that he would rather die than let you find out.

You scoff, "I won't laugh...and even if I did I'm not ticklish so your threat is a moot point."

Yunho drops his hand down onto the mattress. "Bullshit."

"It's not. I don't have a ticklish bone in my body."

"Liar."

You shake your head, and Yunho takes the opportunity to gently press the pads of his fingers into the sides of your ribs. The sensation hits you almost immediately, and you feel the tight feeling in your chest as he begins tickling you. You squeal and thrash around in his grasp, trying desperately to get away from his assault.

"Yun stop it--"

"Not until you admit you're a liar!" You begin to giggle and manage to roll away from him, but Yunho is quick to follow. He swings a long leg over your hips and pins you beneath him, a single large hand trapping both of your wrists above your head while the other dances across your ribs. "Admit it," He sings out.

"Okay! Okay fine I'm a liar!" You gasp out between laughter. Yunho beams down at you and immediately stops tickling your sides, leaving you panting underneath him--

Oh fuck...you're panting underneath him.

He can almost feel the shift in the air as he stares down at you. He knows he should move, just roll off of you and make up some bullshit lie about what he was building. You like someone else, and he clearly wasn't getting out of the friend zone any time soon. He's just making a fool of himself...and yet he just can't bring himself to stop memorizing the way you look splayed out beneath his hips. Eventually he forces himself to stop staring at the way your chest rises and falls or the sliver of your tummy that's poking out from underneath your shirt that's riding up. He locks eyes with you.

Your voice comes out softer than he's ever heard you speak before. "Hey Yun?"

"Yeah?"

"You know that mystery guy I've been telling you about? The one with the pretty hands?"

A twinge of annoyance flairs in his stomach and he can't help but grumble out his reply. "Yeah?"

"I'll give you a hint. He's got me pinned to the mattress right now."

Yunho feels his heart drop deep into the pit of his stomach.

"Like...like right now he does?"

You laugh lightly. "Yeah, right now, Yun."

Yunho swallows thickly as his head starts spinning. He leans down much slower than he would have liked to, giving you plenty of time to take it back--to laugh at him and tell him you got him good. He feels like his whole body lights ablaze when you close the final gap between your lips, and suddenly he is kissing you.

In almost any circumstance that you had seen Yunho kissing someone, he was always fast-paced--hot and heavy petting in the corner of a darkened bar, dares in drunken party circles--which is why you were floored at the reverence he was kissing you with now. His mouth was steady and intense against yours, his hands roaming slowly across the expanse of your torso like he was memorizing the feel of something priceless. You gently pull your hands from his grasp and tangle them in his hair, pulling him closer and matching his intensity with your fervor. You feel his hands make their way to the lower hem of your shirt, and your skin erupts in goosebumps as you feel his fingers ghost along the sliver of skin there. He breaks the kiss and you feel his breath fan across your face as he pants. His hands gently make their way to rest just under your shirt, not quite pushing the fabric up. He locks eyes with you.

"Is this okay?"

You chuckle gently. "Yes, Yun, you can touch me. I want you to touch me." You watch his eyes darken and his hands start running up your torso, pulling your shirt up with them.

"Where do you want me to touch you, baby?"

You exhale heavily and arch your back into his touch. "Anywhere...everywhere...I don't care."

Yunho smirks and feels his ego inflate. "You don't care? Hmm..." He starts planting kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck. Slow. Teasing. "If I remember correctly, you seemed pretty keen about having my hands in some specific places baby. Can you refresh my memory?"

The low whine that escapes your throat nearly sends him spiraling. "You know where...don't make me say it."

He does know, but there's nothing he wants to hear more right now than to hear you say it. He brings one hand up to your chest, cupping one of your boobs and squeezing gently as he continues peppering your neck with kisses. "Was it here? Or..." His hand trails back down and grips your hip possessively, "Here, maybe?" He hears you huff and feels your hand wrap around his wrist. You try to tug it up, and he chuckles softly but allows you to move his hand. He nips your earlobe and asks lowly, "Where do you need my hands baby?" He feels his cock twitch in his sweats when you wrap his fingers around your throat, guiding him to squeeze the sides gently. Your hands run down his chest and drop to your sides as he squeezes a little harder. "Fuck, look at you. So pretty with my hand around your neck."

You whine and buck your hips up, desperately looking for friction. Yunho coos as he looks down at you, wanting to have the image burned into his memory. He adjusts his position so he's sat on one side of you and brings his free hand to your thighs, squeezing the flesh there and watching the way you spread your legs for him. "Pretty girl, I need you to use your words. Spreading your legs like a whore isn't gonna get you what you want." He revels in the way you throw your head back onto the mattress and close your eyes, frustration evident already on your face.

"Need your fingers, Yun. Please."

Holy shit, he could combust right then and there. He smiles and traces his hands along the inside of your clothed thighs. "Good girl. So polite for me." He hooks his fingers in the waistband of your leggings and pulls them down and off, leaving you bare from the waist down. "Sit up for me baby. I want you between my legs."

Yunho sits on the edge of the mattress and allows you time to sit up, moving to sit in between his thighs. He hooks your legs over his, leaving you spread and completely at his mercy. A shiver runs down your spine as the pads of his fingers run across your thighs and you gasp as they brush against your core. He presses kisses into your neck and chuckles, "You're already soaking wet, what's got you all bothered hmm? I've barely touched you..." Yunho hums and teases your entrance with this middle finger. He can feel you clenching. "Do you like my hands that much baby? All it takes is a little choking and you're putty for me." He pushes two fingers inside, pumping slowly and curling back to find your sweet spot. He feels pride flare through his chest at the noise you make, a mix between a whine and a moan that eggs him on.

Your toes curl as Yunho almost immediately finds your g-spot. The pace he sets is almost perfect, and when he begins rubbing tight circles on your clit your eyes roll back into your head. The pleasure is a building wave, and it's all you can do to keep yourself remotely still as he continues pumping his thick fingers in and out. "Oh my god, Yun, please don't stop!" You clench helplessly around his fingers and let your head roll back to rest on his shoulder.

"Awe baby I'm not gonna stop. Not until I see how pretty you look cumming all over me. Will you do that for me, sweetheart?" he coos, bringing his other hand back up to your throat and squeezing lightly. "Will you cum all over my fingers? I bet you want to right? Wanna come on my fingers while I squeeze this pretty neck of yours?"

You whine and preen at his words and arch your back. Your legs begin to shake as Yunho's circling on your clit quickens pace just slightly, the thrusts of his fingers audible from the squelching between your thighs. Your breath quickens.

"My pretty girl, you're such a mess for me, aren't you? Can you hear how wet you are? All soaked for me? I bet your hands don't feel as good as mine hmm?"

You shake your head no violently, whining as he continues to talk lowly into your ear. Your orgasm builds quickly, and at this point you have no faith in your ability to speak coherently.

"No, they don't do they? I want you to show me how good my hands feel baby. Let go for me, sweetheart."

Your breath catches in your throat as you tip over the edge, and the feeling of your release washes over you. Your whole body jolts in his grasp as he continues pumping his fingers. You feel him squeeze your throat gently, just enough pressure to remind you that he's got you.

"Atta girl, look at you! Doing so good for me." You whine and buck your hips, orgasm still riding through your body. Yunho nips at your neck lightly and slows his pumping to a stop as you continue to shake. "That's it baby, just grind on them for me." The final aftershock of your orgasm finishes, and you go limp in his arms, leaning all of your weight back into his chest and breathing heavily.

Yunho pulls his fingers out and admires the mess you made on them before popping them into his mouth. He's still rock hard, and the taste of you on his fingers makes him twitch again. He'll definitely need your help with that later. He uses the hand around your neck to brush a stray hair from out of your face. "How are you feeling?"

You huff out a breathless laugh and turn your face to nuzzle into his neck. "How do you think I feel? That was...wow."

He can't help the goofy smile that crosses his face. "Oh really? Tell me more, I'd like a full report." He jokes, pulling the two of you down to snuggle on his bed. He grabs a throw blanket from your side and pulls it over the two of you and nearly melts when you curl closer to him, burying your face into his chest.

"Give me a few minutes to recover and I'll show you exactly how I'm feeling right now." Yunho rubs a hand up and down your back.

"I look forward to that."

"And then afterwards you're going to show me what you've been building."

Yunho chuckles and kisses the top of your head. No way in hell.

[rainy-day-gracie]

- wedding night -

A Venus & Mars mini series

pairing: General Acacius x virgin!wife!Reader

content warning(s): reader insert, no use of y/n, arranged marriage, implied age gap but nothing specific, oral (f recieving), fingering, loss of virginity, piv sex, innocence kink, self indulgent praise kink, Acacius definitely talks you through it, discussions of consent because consent is sexy mandatory, discussion of future sexual acts, AFTERCARE because aftercare is hot, general acacius is in loooooove but doesn't know it yet haha, romantic and intimate as hell, grievous historical inaccuracy because it's fucking fanfiction, canon divergent because duh

a/n: So guys. I saw Gladiator II and it was awesome and Pedro Pascal is the sexiest man alive (in my heart). However, this character's name is not Marcus. I don't know who lied, but we've all been fooled. So in this sequel, the general's name is just Acacius in order to stay at least a little bit true to the actual canon.

I definitely will be writing for these two again because holy shit I made this romantic and I love them so much.

Read wedding day here!

Read bloodlust here!

---

Acacius saw heaven in your eyes, a piece of salvation he never thought he might be able to grasp with his blood-stained hands.

He glanced down your body, wrapped beautifully in your white wedding gown, gold jewelry shining in warm candlelight. For a moment, he wondered Venus herself were tricking him with her immortal seduction.

But the blush of red in your cheeks, the shine of desire in your eyes, the beat of your heart in your chest....

No immortal possibly could mimic such evidence of true, temporary, and precious life.

Acacius had been with plenty women in his lifetime, had thought he understood what desire was.

I want you, you had said.

Now, he thinks he's only scratched the surface.

---

The general-- Acacius -- peered at you like a starving man at a feast, drinking you in, turning the wheels in his head of what he wanted to do first.

He grasped your hand in both of his, studying the golden band on your ring finger. Evidence of your gods-blessed union.

"I want to see you wearing nothing.... except for this," Acacius breathed, his voice low, and dreamy, like the words were slipping from him with no control.

"I'd like that very much," you said, trying to keep your hand from trembling under his touch.

"May I strip you bare, darling?" He asked, calloused fingertips fiddling with the clasp on your golden bracelet.

"Yes."

Instantly, the bracelet fell, and then the other, and then the other. Acacius' gentle touch drove you wild, methodical and sure. He stopped for a moment, glancing at the purity ring on your pinky, and smirked in a way that nearly made your knees buckle.

Glancing back up to your gaze, he held your stare as he pulled the purity ring off. His lips were a hairsbreadth away from yours, letting you smell the sweet cherry wine on his breath.

"Kiss me," you mumbled.

Acacius' smirk remained. "Patience, darling."

He tucked the purity ring into a pocket of his tunic, and turned you around, so your back pressed against his chest. A sigh caught in your throat, realizing he had turned you both to face the full-length mirror in the corner of the bedroom.

"Answer me honestly," he said, trailing one of his knuckles down the exposed skin of your spine. "Have you ever touched yourself?"

Heat rose to your cheeks, and you shivered at his light touch. "Uh..."

"Don't you lie to me, now. It's a great sin to lie to your husband," he whispered, his teeth nipping lightly at your ear.

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, I- I've touched myself. I've touched... my..."

"Your cunt?" Acacius mused.

You nodded, your chest rising heavily.

"Did you… like it? When you touched yourself?"

"N-no. I've been told it is not ladylike, to... pleasure yourself in that way."

Acacius kissed the back of your neck, making you arch into his touch. "Oh, my poor darling... there's nothing more ladylike in the world. Don't worry... I will show you how."

A full whimper escaped you at that, and Acacius undid the knots of your dress with a chuckle.

The dress fell, leaving you in only your loincloth, tied at your waist. But Acacius was looking at something else.

His eyes were transfixed on your perked breasts, his mouth slightly open as he wrapped one of his hands around the soft flesh. A high-pitched sigh left your throat, and he reached around with his other hand to take hold of the other breast.

"Do you like it when I hold you like this?" Acacius murmured, his mouth at your temple. He twitched his fingertips to pinch your nipples softly, making you close your eyes in pleasure. "Look at me."

Snapping your eyes open again, he stared you down in the mirror with a small devilish grin. He pinched your breasts again, pulling an answer from you. "Yes, Acacius."

"Good girl," he praised, your cunt throbbing at the words. He let go of your breasts, untying the cloth at your hips until you were utterly bare before him, save for your wedding ring. "Lie down on the bed, darling."

He brushed a palm over your plush backside, guiding you towards the beautiful linen bed. Plenty big for two.

You obey with a shy smile, sinking into the blankets and pillows like you were always meant to fit there. Watching from your comfortable bed, Acacius loomed over the foot, undoing buttons on his tunic, and ties on his robes.

Your lips parted slightly as he exposed the tan, scarred skin of his chest, flickering candlelight bathing him in a warm glow. He studied your expressions like a hawk, watching for any sign of discomfort or displeasure.

As he unlaced the toga and loincloth, leaving him as bare as you were, you had to keep yourself from gasping.

His cock hung heavily between his legs, not even fully aroused but still bigger than anything you had anticipated. He wrapped a hand around his manhood, smirking at your expression, but mercifully saying nothing about it.

“I am curious, my wife,” Acacius began, his voice a rumble. He pulled himself onto the marriage bed, caging you in the sheets with his arms and legs straddling. His eyes never left yours. “What did they say about me? When you learned of our union, what whispers crossed your ears?”

You licked your lips, speaking suddenly a challenge. “Um, that you w-were brave…”

Acacius leaned down, pulling one of your legs over his broad shoulders.

“…and strong…”

He mirrored the motion with your other leg, leaving your weeping cunt exposed.

“…a-and…”

Acacius paused, waiting for your answer. “And?”

“General, I shouldn’t speak ill…” you moaned, wondering if one could combust with desire.

“Tell me the truth, darling. Or you won’t get what you so eagerly want.”

“Th-they said you were cruel,” you stammered, desperately, any wall of self preservation coming down. “They said you took anything you desired, washed your hands with blood, and violence was the only language you spoke. Your rage eclipses that of Achilles, and your eyes blacken every time you raise a banner. You are of Mars himself, shedding blood like you were born to it.”

Acacius’ smirk from between your legs was wicked, and he broke your gaze for the first time since lying on the bed.

He studied your open cunt with a glazed expression, like he was lost in the pleasure of staring at your slick desire.

“If I am of Mars then you are of Venus, my darling.”

His words filled you with affection, the way his knees bent on the bed almost like he was worshiping an altar between your legs.

“So pure…” he murmured, as if the words had slipped from his lips.

Your back arched like a bow as he licked a stripe up your soaking slit, sighs escaping from your throat.

Acacius hummed with delight, fucking you on his tongue lazily, drinking your desire like nectar of the gods.

You buried your hands in his hair hesitantly, unsure of what would be pleasing to him. In all the times you eavesdropped on the married women of the court, never once had they mentioned anything like… this. Never once had they mentioned any of the overwhelming pleasure racking every limb of your body. Never once had they mentioned the lightning erupting over your skin with every brush of his calloused palm.

Acacius trailed his hands down your arched torso, cupping your breasts as his mouth traced patterns over your cunt. Your breathy moans made him chuckle into your flesh, the vibrations making you lift your hips with pleasure.

Throbbing built in your pussy, clenching around his tongue as your desire jumped at every brush of his lips.

“A-Acacius, gods…” you cried out, throwing your head back as a pinnacle raced towards you.

“Relax, my darling,” Acacius breathed, bringing one of his hands down to rest at your soft inner thigh. “I’m going to put my hands on you now.”

“Oh, please,” you begged, unsure of what it was you were begging for.

“Tell me if it becomes too much,” Acacius said, and his hand on your thigh moved.

The gentle brush of his rough fingertips on your slick folds had you gasping anew, pulling lightly on the locks of his hair.

“Such a pretty cunt,” Acacius mumbled to himself. “I have half a mind to just keep you like this.”

You whined in protest, your hips chasing his touch.

“So needy for a virgin.”

You threw your head back as his finger pushed past your slick folds, reaching spots inside of yourself that you hadn’t known existed.

“Oh, so tight, my love. You truly are pure.” Acacius curved his finger, brushing against something spongy, and sensitive. A guttural moan escaped your throat, and he laughed softly. “When the pleasure peaks, do not fight it. Let it take you away, somewhere only you and I exist.”

You nodded at his command, closing your eyes as your head sunk into the linen pillows.

Unrestrained cries erupted from you as he pulled his finger out, and in, and out again, hitting that sweet spot with every push inside of your aching cunt.

When he pressed his tongue to the bud at the top of your core, he pushed a second finger deep into your slick, making you wonder if the gods truly did become man. The stretch of his fingers pricked a pain deep within, making you clench tighter around his calloused fingertips. A slight brush of his rough facial hair against your core was your ultimate undoing.

You called out his name as the pleasure rushed down your spine, into your belly, and built in your desperate cunt. He knew it, too, and continued to thrust his fingers deep inside with renewed enthusiasm. His tongue licked against your clit with hunger, tipping you over the edge.

Cries escaped your lips as the pleasure overwhelmed you, every muscle in your body going taut as the desire took over. Your cunt clenched tightly, chasing his fingers, and your spire curved with tension as the wave of lust claimed you.

Acacius watched with a lazy smile as your core squeezed with your orgasm, evidence of your desire dripping off his lips.

“Acacius… Acacius…” you breathed as the climax subsided, your body relaxing into the bed once more.

“How do you feel, darling?” Acacius asked, crawling back up to press his nose against yours. His brown eyes were dark, pupils blown wide with adoration.

In place of an answer, you buried your hands in his curly, soft hair, pressing his lips to yours. He responded instantly, capturing your mouth with the passion of love and war.

His tongue pushed against yours, pure want seeping from every brush of his lips against yours. You gasped as his hands cupped your hips gently, like he was making sure you were a solid thing he could hold in his hands. Like he was worried you might slip through his fingers.

“I want more,” you whispered against his mouth, and he nodded with his eyes closed, like he was dreaming.

“It will hurt for a moment, but I will be gentle with you,” Acacius breathed, trailing light kisses against your throat. “Tell me when there is pain, or if you wish to stop.”

You nodded against his temple, and he pulled his lips back instantly.

“Say you want me, darling. Say you will tell me to stop if you wish.”

The intensity in those brown eyes, the desperation, had you squirming with desire once again.

You held his face in your hands, tracing your thumb against his rough stubble, studying him.

Acacius' nose was utterly Roman, looking like it had possibly been broken once or twice. Every mark on him was evidence of a man that had seen the Underworld and walked away, but not without a few scars to show for it. Though he had been nothing but gentle with you, there was no doubt he could live up to his reputation of bloodletting.

Still, you held him close.

"I want you, Acacius. I will tell you to stop if I wish to." There was no hesitation, no tremor in your voice.

He sighed in relief, reaching down to his hard cock and bringing it between your legs. You whined at the sensitive touch, and he grunted at the slickness of your folds.

"So wet for me, darling, so perfect," he moaned in your ear, guiding the soft flesh of your thighs to wrap around his hips.

Tentatively, he rubbed his cock up and down your core, getting you accustomed to the blunt feeling. You whined breathlessly, near begging for him to fuck you already.

"Patience, darling. I need to go slow to not hurt you," he mumbled.

The blunt head of his cock pushed past your sensitive folds, and you dug your nails into the strong muscles of his back.

Acacius let out a guttural groan into the heated skin of your neck. "So wet, and tight."

You called his name like a prayer, your head tossed back in pain and pleasure. Over and over again, you called his name.

"A little more, easy, easy..." Acacius moaned, pushing further into your virgin cunt.

You cried out in pinching desire. "S-so much, Acacius..."

"I know, darling. We're halfway there."

You held tight to him, his rough hands on your soft skin distracting you from the stretch of your cunt around his cock. "H-halfway?"

Acacius chuckled, holding still inside of you to let you adjust. "You feel... divine. So, so perfect, my sweet wife."

A high pitched moan escaped you as he pulled back slightly, kissing your neck as he pushed farther in. You clenched around him, and his lips on your clammy skin sent a fresh wave of lust panging though you.

But Acacius stopped, and you gasped in pain again, as if he had hit a barrier in your core he couldn't push past. You knew he could bottom out if he so wanted, but not without tearing you deeply.

Instead of pushing forward, he stayed where he was inside of you, tracing his nose along the curve of your jaw.

When he spoke again, his voice was low, almost like he didn't mean for you to hear his words.

"Do you want to know what I want, darling?"

You were too breathless to answer.

Acacius continued. "I want to fuck you so well that all of Rome hears you calling my name. I want to mark you with my mouth so you may look in the mirror and think only of me. I want fall to my knees and thank the gods that gave you to me. But for now, my darling... I want you to come on my cock with your most divine cunt."

Your cunt, as if on command, fluttered, and you moaned as he was able to fill you to the hilt without a pinch of discomfort.

"Oh, yes," Acacius whispered, his tongue darting out along your pulse point. You cried out in pleasure as he shifted inside of you, holding tight to his strong back.

"You... are... perfect, darling," he panted, thrusting slowly, in and out, in and out. "So warm, and tight..."

"Acacius, please..."

"Please... what?" Acacius teased, biting your bottom lip slightly as he pushed back into you.

"More... more," you said, digging your nails into the muscles of his shoulders.

Acacius responded in kind, chuckling at your desperation. "As my lady commands."

His thrusts into your aching cunt deepened, becoming harder as you grew needy for his strength. You tossed your head back with a high-pitched cry when he was able to hit that perfectly sensitive spot inside of you, and the reaction made him even more ravenous for you.

"Oh, you take my cock so well," Acacius praised, the words making your cunt clench around him. "So, so good, my darling."

As if he knew what you needed before you did, he pulled his chest away from yours, sitting up on his knees while thrusting into you. He looped his wide arms underneath your spread legs, angling you upwards on his thighs and pulling your hips up off of the bed. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and you arched your back off the sheets with a shriek of delight.

"Acacius, Acacius," you cried out, the new angle sending him deep into your core, hitting spots you hadn't even known existed.

"That's it, say my name," Acacius said with a smirk. "Say my name when I fuck you, tell all of Rome who is making you feel this good."

You couldn't stop, the falling of his name from your lips dripping like sweet honey. All you could feel was the sweat of his skin against yours, the calloused of his hands as they gripped your soft thighs closely, and the depths of your core his cock was able to reach.

"You're going to cum for me," Acacius ordered, his words coming out in pants of breath. "You're going to cum for me, because you're a good girl. You're a good girl, aren't you? Letting me fuck her virgin cunt so nicely, such a good girl..."

At his praise, your cunt tightened around his cock, back arching like a bow. As you came, he pressed a calloused hand into the flesh above your pelvis, the pressure making your high all the more intense. You cried out his name, over and over again, the two of you becoming the only people in the world as the tidal wave of pleasure overwhelmed you.

Acacius' thrusts into your aching core sped, became less focused, and you knew he was losing control himself as you came apart underneath him. Your name fell from his lips as he pressed his hand further into the spot below your belly, where his cock seemed to bulge into his palm as your cunt pulsed around him.

"Such a good girl, such a good wife," he moaned. Only when your core could only twitch in response to his strong thrusts did he slow, leaning back over you and capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

A warmth pooled within you, evidence of his pleasure. You didn't know if you'd ever felt such an intimate connection with anyone as you did with him, his kiss burning a brand into your heart as the heat of passion faded.

Acacius pulled away after a moment, breathing heavily against your throat. "Hold still a moment," he warned. His palms pressed against your hips, his cock sliding from you with a slight sting. You followed his advice, your legs feeling weak and shaky.

You studied him as he crossed the bedchamber to the washroom, his broad back dimpling with the movement. Returning with a clean cloth and a faint smile on his lips, the dimple in his cheek made your heart swell as he saw your sprawled body on his massive bed.

"Feeling comfortable?" Acacius asked, eyebrows raised with amusement.

You nod, watching him as he crossed over to you, pressing a chaste kiss against your lips as he carefully wiped your messy core.

Breaking from your lips for a moment, he pressed his nose against yours, and you cherished the gentle, intimate gesture.

"Shall I call the servants for a hot bath?" Acacius mumbled, tossing the cloth aside.

"A hot bath sounds divine, but only if we may take one together," you reply, slightly giddy.

Acacius furrowed his brows in confusion. "What is making you laugh, my darling?"

You kissed him again, long and slow. Time stood still, and it was as if you could physically feel the bond forging between the two of you, forging in a slow burn of a crackling fire. It was warm, and easy, and comforting.

You broke away, studying him in his eyes. "You are simply... not what I expected."

Acacius smiled, that damn dimple curving in his cheek.

The most feared general on the continent.

Your husband.

Acacius kissed your forehead. "You, my darling, are everything I've been dreaming of."

---

taglist (people that asked to be tagged in part 2): @marianastudiesart @joeldjarin @fallout-girl219 @shantellorraine @lanadelslay69-420 @pedrofan

my request box is open! would love to hear y'all ideas for Joel, Acacius, Javier, or Oberyn :)

[housepartyprotocol]

Farmhand

Oscar Piastri x Clarkson's Farmer!Reader

summary: Oscar has his visit to the Clarkson Farm and meets a certain animal-centred farm hand (a/n: this is a tiny touch self indulgent as i am obsessed with Clarkson's farm 24/7)

Masterlist / TipJar

ynusername

liked by kalebcooper, jeremyclarkson and 4,209 others

ynusername Season 4 of Clarkson Farm filming underway. Ready to have cameras in my face while I muck out and feed baby animals for the next few months.

view all 95 comments

user horse queen

lisahogan come join me in the farm shop

ynusername thats aruguably more camera time no thank you

user came for Jeremy Clarkson, stayed for YN

user her content is amazing

user looking forward to clarkson farm season 4!

oscarpiastri

liked by jeremyclarkson, kalebcooper, ynusername and 885,256 others

oscarpiastri I don't think I will be farming again anytime soon

view all 3,255 comments

user did you see the video of him struggling to reverse the tractor?

user I saw Kaleb and a girl die of laughter in the background user whos the girl? user she works on the farm, she is really funny in the show

mclaren not such a good driver ?

oscarpiastri a tractor is not an f1 car

kalebcooper had a great time mate! you are more then welcome to try again

oscarpiastri I dont feel like humilating myself infront of people again user I really hope it makes the show

ynusername

liked kalebcooper, jeremyclarkson, oscarpiastri, and 5,803 others

ynusername week of my furry babies

view all 187 comments

user oml so cute!

user what does she do on the farm

user she’s a dog trainer, specifically hunting dogs. she also raises and trains horses user she’s diddly squats animal whisperer

lisahogan I love heart cow, shes my baby

ynusername your next farm baby, one of many!

user did you see her making fun of oscar, the f1 driver?

clarksonsfarm

liked by ynusername, jeremeyclarkson, oscarpiastri, and 53,532 others

clarksonsfarm Filming life back on the farm ready for the next series! Somehow health and safety signed off on a team of camera crew joining farm hand YN on a hack...

Stick around to see how it went

view all 4,220 comments

user I need this footage now

user I cannot wait for this season, I bet there will be more YN screen time

liked by oscarpiastri

ynusername Twas a great time, no accidents, no issues with birds, perfect...

user OMG tell us what happened ynusername ;) kalebcooper Happy I was not there ynusername It was fun!

oscarpiastri

liked by mclaren, landonorris, ynusername, and 659,098 others

oscarpiastri Back in my type of vehicle. I can drive this.

view all 20,987 comments

user clarkson farm reference!

user P3 Qualifying!

ynusername Good luck

liked by oscarpiastri user OMG Its her! user who? user Watch Clarksons's farm on amazon user Jeremy clarkson..? user YUP

landonorris still so jealous you got to drive a tractor

landonorris I asked, no one will let me oscarpiastri aww poor you user i cannot imagine lando driving a tractor mclaren you are too much of a liability for us to let you do that landonorris But you LET OSCAR?! user hes 1 sec away from downloading a tractor simulator

ynusername

liked by oscarpiastri, kalebcooper, lisahogan, and 6,735 others

ynusername Order of preference, horses>dogs>racecars>cows>sheep>people

view all 429 comments

user why are people so low...

ynusername because animals are less likely to be sassier than me, which is how i like it user thats honestly so real

lisahogan that order is respectable, but race cars?

ynusername your parter is JEREMY CLARKSON? lisahogan true

user No that reaction to F1 is my resting face while watching

oscarpiastri dogs win

ynusername you need to meet more horses user CROSSOVER?!?!

oscarpiastri

liked by ynusername, landonorris, kalebcooper, and 725,266 others

oscarpiastri Got told I needed to meet more horses by a dog trainer

view all 6,362 comments

user is he just living at clarksons farm

user his second home

ynusername I train, raise, and breed horses too silly

oscarpiastri but you are still a dog trainer ynusername hunting dogs user YN calling Oscar 'silly' is the highlight of my life

user is that his girlfriend

user no she works on the farm he is visiting, Jeremy Clarkson's farm user he could be visiting her at his farm because he is dating her user he definitely likes her though

mclaren horses on the track next?

user admin is a genius user barrel racing, jumping user put all f1 drivers on ponies, and get them to race

landonorris you are a walking insurance risk. Tractors, horses, yet i can do nothing @ McLaren play fair

mclaren we'll get you a Shetland pony landonorris'll take it

mclaren

liked by oscarpiastri, ynusername, landonorris and 892,535 others

mclaren Race day and entertaining a special guest, happy to get them out of farming gear

@ ynusername

view all 24,532 comments

user God oscars hands are hot

ynusername whats wrong with my farm gear

user yn hurting at admins comments mclaren farm clothes are stil nice, but our merch is better ynusername thank you for it all !!

user Clarkson farm crossover to the next level

user Oscar is going to end up living on a farm no way is YN giving up her horses and dogs

user who said anything about them living together? are they even dating? user sure looks like it

oscarpiastri Definitely sticking with cars over horses

ynusername I'll try again and again landonorris can I? ynusername Sorry I'm not allowed to let you landonorris @ mclaren this is unfair!!

ynusername

liked by lisahogan, oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 7,350 others

ynusername Had to absolute pleasure of riding the first horse I bred, raised, and sold. Love you peanut butter xx FT my baby and my pupper

view all 578 comments

user shes taken, damn

user I love that fact the first chance she had to name a horse she called it peanut butter

ynusername he looks just like it !! user she must have done a good job, that's a fancy ass stable

user I bet thats Oscar piastri

user oh yeah 1000%

oscarpiastri such beautiful animals

ynusername my children oscarpiastri such beautiful children ynusername yay user he is down bad

lisahogan we missed you these two weeks, but happy you had a good time

lisahogan give oscar our love user DID SHE JUST

oscarpiastri

liked by ynusername, landonorris, jeremyclarkson and 987,567 others

oscarpiastri You can take my love out of the farm but you can't take the farm out of my love

view all 12,674 comments

user CONFIRMATION HES TAKEN

user she is stunning

user ITS YN, omg she got so lucky

user imagine if Oscar did not go to the farm

user faTEE!!

ynusername I am never leaving the farm

oscarpiastri done. ynusername done what... oscarpiastri sold my apartment in Monaco. ynusername I what. Huh, we should talk about this no oscarpiastri I'll learn to stand the farm smell for you ynusername ITS NOT A BAD SMELL

mclaren Cuties

user mother hen mclaren user mastermind

landonorris he can date the farm girl and driver tractors and ride horses and I can't get on a horse?

mclaren one time pass landonorris @ ynusername LETS GO HORSERIDING ynusername YESSS user this feels like an odd interaction oscarpiastri their entire relationship is an odd interation

[minghaoes]

pouty cuddles [drabble]

mingyu comes home after a day of filming gose and everyone's been meaner to him than usually. what else could he need than being in your arms and dramatically complain about his members, who he loves dearly?

TAGS: kim mingyu x gn!reader, fluff, established relationship, the members are mean to mingyu but he's handling it like a champ (he isn't)

WORD COUNT: 800 words

a/n: my first seventeen fic !! i haven't written fanfics in a minute and i'm a bit rusty so it's shorter than what i will post in the future, but i hope that y'all will enjoy it nevertheless :) please let me know what you think and happy reading !!

Mingyu was pouting. His lower lip was slightly puffed, his cheeks looked a little rounder than they usually did, and his eyes, his eyes were big and brown as they looked right into yours. His head was resting on your chest close to your chin, and Mingyu could not stop staring at your face. His arms were wrapped around your waist, and he seemed comically small in that moment. 

Your left hand softly caressed the warm skin on his back, as the fingers on your right slowly played with his curls. Mingyu sighed quietly and leaned into your touch, not before exaggerating his pout just a little bit more. It was enough to make you coo at him and press a butterfly kiss on the tip of his nose.

“They were mean to me,” Mingyu said, the pout ever so evident in his voice. You suppressed a laugh and indulged in his behaviour. “Who was mean to you, baby?”

Mingyu closed his eyes at the pet name and pressed his body even closer to yours. His body felt heavy on yours, but still comfortable. The warmth radiating from his body was enough to keep you warm, to keep you happy. 

“The members,” he mumbled, and shuffled a bit further up. Nuzzling his face into your neck, he complained: “They said I’m always scared.”

It took you a lot of self restraint to not start laughing. Granted, Mingyu had not been telling you what today’s episode was about, but considering you know how your boyfriend behaved in certain situations, the members’ statement was not that far off from the truth. Yet, the pout on Mingyu’s face was enough to have you reconsider agreeing with them, even playfully. Instead, you opted for lightly scratching his head and pressing a kiss on top of his hair. “My poor baby.”

“Yes, I am,” Mingyu nodded. His lips grazed the skin of your neck and you smiled, hugging him closer to your chest. In response, Mingyu hummed and kissed the same spot softly. He kept kissing you over and over again, until he started speaking again.

“I’m not actually mad at them,” he confessed, and you hummed, “Who would have thought.”

“HOWEVER,” he interrupted you sassily, another pout already forming on his plush lips, “I’m not scared of everything.”

You smiled at him, but Mingyu only furrowed his eyebrows. Your right hand wandered further down from his hair to his forehead, to massage the worry line gently. 

“I’m not scared of being with you,” Mingyu confessed quietly. His eyes flickered back down, feeling less confident now that you reciprocated his gaze. “I’m not scared of committing to you. To give myself to you.”

It was your turn to furrow your eyebrows now. You tried to sit up straight, but Mingyu would not let you. Instead, you opted for hugging him with both of your arms around his neck. 

“Where’s that coming from, darling?”

Mingyu whined and put his head back into place right in the crease of your neck, right on top of your shoulder. 

“Just been thinking ‘bout marriage a lot lately, that’s all,” he replied casually, not knowing that the simple words made your heart beat just a little bit faster than it already did. 

“Yeah?” you replied breathlessly, trying your best to maintain your breathing. Mingyu nodded again, sounding a bit more insecure this time. “If that’s what you’re considering too. No pressure if you’re not interested. I mean, I would be hurt by it, but I respect any decision you might mak-” 

Giggling, you pulled Mingyu’s head up to press a kiss on his lips. Your hand was holding his cheek and caressing the soft skin below your fingertips. In turn, Mingyu’s eyes returned to your face, the same big and brown eyes you had grown to love. The pout was evident on his lips again, and in response, you kissed him over and over again, until the lovesick frown returned to his brows, his eyes softer than you have ever seen them.

“Of course I’ve been thinking about it too,” you admitted, pressing another kiss on the tip of his nose. Mingyu turned his head upwards, trying to catch your lips with his. He whined when you pulled away, his lips returning to his natural pout. 

“Baby,” he said, his eyes switching back and forth between your eyes and your lips, “that’s unfair. I’m still sad. Why are all of you always mean to me?”

You cooed and littered his entire face with kisses. Mingyu giggled at your antics and sighed contentedly. For now, you did not have to know that his members had been nagging him about proposing to you. The box he was hiding in his sock drawer was also completely unrelated to his theatrics. 

[wanders-in-wonderland]

Technical Mastermind

Note: This is a fun little dual-POV story I put together, honestly mostly just self-indulgent fluff and a sprinkle of spice but hope y'all enjoy!

I look up from my computer when I hear a knock at my office door. My coworker pokes her head in and smiles at me, “Hey! The new tech guy’s first day is today, come meet him!” Her voice drops to a theatrical whisper, “He’s cute too!”

I let out a soft laugh and glance down at my screen for a second. “I’ll be right out, just gonna finish up this email.” She nods and gives me a wink before disappearing from my doorway.

I follow her out a few moments later, following the sound of excited chattering to the break room. All my coworkers are gathered there, along with a man who I presume to be the new tech guy. Who is indeed cute.

I walk up and introduce myself with a smile. “Hey! I’m part of the analytics team, it’s really nice to meet you!”

He smiles back at me and for a second I’m stunned by the dimples and warmth in his face. He is very cute. “It’s nice to meet you too. I’m here for all your tech needs if anything comes up,” his voice is smooth and it sends a shiver down my spine that I try to repress. Now is not the time to get the hots for my brand-new coworker.

He sticks his hand out for me to shake and I slide mine into it. His fingers grip mine firmly, the warmth in his hand making me want to melt into him.

I let out a soft laugh, “Sorry, my hands are always freezing, my office is so cold for some reason.” He chuckles and lets my hand go, “No need to apologize." I catch a whiff of his cologne and it makes me melt a little more, he smells delectable.

Before I can respond, I hear someone call his name and we both turn to see our manager come over, asking for his help with a software integration. I smile at them both, “Well, that’s my cue, I’ll let you get to doing your job. It was lovely to meet you.” I step away and give a little wave before I walk over to the espresso machine to make myself an afternoon pick-me-up.

My coworker sidles up next to me, “I told you he’s cute!” I laugh and glance back over at the new tech guy, taking in his tall, fit form, the cross of his arms making his biceps bulge while he nods along to whatever our manager was saying.

“And you were not wrong,” I say back to her, grabbing my finished coffee and adding cream and sugar.

She leans in with a devious look on her face, “You guys would make a really cute couple.” I almost choke on my sip of coffee and I shoot her a playful glare. “I literally just met the man! I don’t know anything about him. AND we work together.”

She shrugs, “None of those things sound like deal breakers.” I let out a laugh and glance back at him. We would make a cute couple but I am not about to open that can of worms, especially not with a guy I met five minutes ago who made no indication of being interested in me.

I spend the next few minutes chatting with my coworker before heading back to my office to finish up my work. I feel eyes tracking me as I reach the door of the break room and I turn to see the new guy looking at me. Our eyes meet and he flashes me another smile, dimples on full display. I smile back and slip out of the room, walking back to my office with a little extra pep in my step.

—

Today, I met the woman I’m going to marry. She doesn’t know it yet but that’s okay, she’ll learn soon enough. My first day on the job could not have gone better. I was meeting all of my coworkers when she walked in, wearing that gorgeous skirt showing off her sexy legs and a pink blouse that made her creamy skin look so delicious.

I saw the way she shivered at the sound of my voice, the way her eyes glazed over a little when our hands touched. She’s perfect and her body wants mine and soon her mind will too. I couldn’t get her out of my head, not even when my new boss was talking me through some new software update the firm is undergoing. Lucky for me, I’m damn good at my job and could do it with just a fraction of my attention.

I kept most of my gaze on her while she giggled with her coworker, the sound of her laugh making me determined to be the one to make her make that noise next time. She caught me staring right as she was leaving but the smile she sent my way and the glow on her face was all I needed to be sure that she wanted me just as much as I wanted her.

By the end of the workday, I’d already pulled every single file about her from the company database. After that it was easy enough to hack into the company’s security cameras to get me access to the feed of her office so I could keep eyes on her during the day. It was even easier to hack into her accounts to see her emails, calendars, and everything else my girl had on her work computer.

By the time I got home, I’d already come up with a plan to get access to her personal computer and phone. In the next few days, I’ll pay her home a visit while she’s in the office to set up my own cameras and make a copy of her keys. She’s mine and I plan on taking very good care of her.

—

The next morning, I step into my office and log onto my computer only for the entire thing to crash. “What the fuck?” I groan softly, this has never happened before and the timing is terrible because I’m supposed to be on a meeting in 30 minutes. I grumble with annoyance before I trudge out of my office, hoping to find the new tech guy and praying that he’s here this morning and knows how to fix my stupid computer.

His office door is open and I see him sat in front of his computer, typing away. I linger for a moment outside his door, the yummy scent of his cologne wafting out of his office towards me. I knock softly against his door frame and flash him a sheepish smile when he looks up. “I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?”

He flashes those dimples at me again and shakes his head. “Not at all, what can I do for you?” I bite my lip and sigh before responding.

“I think I broke my computer.”

He stares at me. Oh my god, he thinks I’m an idiot.

“I mean, I don’t know, I logged in and then it crashed and now it’s on the blue screen of death and I have a meeting in 30 minutes and I can’t access anything.” I blurt out my words and want to dissolve into a puddle because now the hot tech guy definitely thinks I’m incompetent.

“Let me see if I can fix it,” he says, not missing a beat and he stands from behind his desk. Fuck, he’s so tall, I could climb him like a tree. I give myself a mental slap and smile brightly at him, praying my face isn’t beet red.

He gestures to the door and we walk out together. “Thank you so much, I’m sorry for being a bother, I promise I’m usually not this technologically inept.”

He laughs very gracefully at my bumbling, “You’re not a bother at all. Plus, this is what the company pays me for, so thank you for keeping me employed.” I giggle at that. So he’s hot and funny.

We enter my office and I let him sit at my desk to tinker with the computer. I stand behind him, discreetly taking in deep breaths of his smell while staring blankly at the screen as he opens some kind of code sequence and enters a bunch of letters and numbers before giving a contemplative hum.

“Good news is I know what’s wrong. Bad news is it’s gonna take a bit for me to fix it up. But, I can remote access into your account from my computer and you can take your meeting in my office so you don’t run behind.” He turns to look at me.

“Oh my god, yes, that would be perfect. Thank you so so much!” Thank you tech gods for gracing me with this savior of a man. I beam at him and he shows me his pretty dimples again.

“Here, let’s get you set up on my computer first and I’ll come back to deal with yours.”

20 minutes later, I’m sat in his very comfy chair, breathing in more of his yummy scent, in his very nice and warm office that is far better than my freezing one, logging onto my meeting from his computer.

—

She’s so fucking adorable when she needs help. I could barely contain my excitement this morning while I waited for her to come into the office and inevitably find me to solve her newly manifested computer problem. And I made her laugh, the sound spilling from her lips so sweetly.

Now, I’m in her office while she’s preoccupied for at least another hour in that meeting. My girl is so trusting too because she left her phone, her personal laptop, and her purse all in her office without a second thought. This is too easy.

It takes me no time at all to plant a bug into her phone that mirrors it onto my own and a similar tweak of her laptop’s code gives me remote access whenever I want. I slip into her purse and grab her keys, stepping out of the office to go down the street to the hardware store to make a quick copy of her house key and her car key. I make one last stop at her car, sliding a tracker under the hood before heading back into the office.

A glance at her calendar tells me she’s still got 30 minutes left in her meeting. I easily delete the bug I’d planted in her work computer to create this glitch in the first place and restore it to its functioning form before leaving her office, putting everything back in its place.

I stop by the break room and make two cups of coffee. One black for me and another with cream and sugar, exactly the way I’d watch her make it yesterday afternoon. I slip into my office quietly, smiling at her when her eyes meet mine. I slide the cup of coffee to her and her eyes widen and she mouths a thank you at me.

I smile and shake my head before slipping back out of my office to let her finish her meeting. My chest feels warm when I step out. It feels really fucking good to take care of my girl, and I hope she sees how good of a provider I would be for her. How she’d never want for anything ever again and I can’t wait to make her mine.

—

I’m giddy for the rest of my meeting after he’d dropped off a cup of coffee for me, made exactly how I like it. This man is the stuff of dreams, I swear. My meeting wraps up and I finish off my caffeine before I get up to look for him.

He’s in my office, back facing the doorway, tinkering with the thermostat on the wall. I knock softly and he spins around to look at me, holding a screwdriver as he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.

“You mentioned your office being cold. I think I fixed it,” he flashes me a smile. My mouth forms an O as I stare at him in amazement. If we weren’t coworkers and literally met yesterday, I would totally get down on my knees and suck his cock right here, right now. Where has this man been all my life?

“I- thank you so much, you didn’t have to do that at all. And thank you for the coffee, it was perfect, and for letting me use your office, and for fixing my computer,” I’m rambling now but I can’t stop. Seeing his dimples again makes me finally stop talking and I give him a shy smile.

“No problem at all, everything’s all sorted. Your computer is all set and it shouldn’t give you an problems anymore.” His words almost make me sad, maybe I should figure out how to fuck up my stuff again just so he can come and fix it for me.

“Thank you again, really. You’re a life saver.”

“Of course, let me know if you need anything, you know where to find me.” He tips an imaginary hat at me and I giggle as he walks out. Yum, my office now smells a little bit like him.

I spend the rest of my day half-heartedly focusing on work while my thoughts keep drifting back to that dimpled hunk of a man who seems so perfect.

—

I spend the rest of my day sorting through all the new information I’ve gathered on my girl and doing just enough work to make it seem like I’m a model employee. Her phone gives me an unfiltered glimpse into her life and I’ve discovered enough about her to know with certainty that she is fucking perfect.

I also find that she spent several minutes last night googling me and stalking my few social media profiles. It makes me smile to know that my girl is interested in me too. I’m looking through her other apps when I see a text come in. It’s from one of our coworkers, asking if she’s going out for the weekly office happy hour tonight. She responds quickly with an affirmative. And then she sends a follow-up message: “I’m gonna invite the tech guy too!”

Our coworker agrees and my chest feels warm again, clearly, my girl is thinking about me too.

I hear her footsteps come down the hall to my office and I quickly click out of my incriminating files before she knocks on my office door and pokes her head in.

“Hi, do you want to come out for drinks with the rest of the office tonight? It’s just a causal, weekly happy hour, no pressure!” Her eyes are alight with hope and excitement and it makes me want to grab her and kiss her. I restrain myself and instead send her a smile and agree. Her whole face lights up and I have to grip the armrest of my chair to keep myself in place. She says she’ll send me the details and walks off, her perfect ass swaying as she retreats down the hall.

—

I’m bouncing on my heels a little as I stand with a few other coworkers at the bar down the street from the office. My gaze keeps lingering on the door, trying to get a glimpse of the man I’m waiting for. Someone next to me makes a joke about something and I laugh with the rest of the group, too distracted to contribute anything of substance.

Suddenly, I feel a warm hand against my back and I smell his cologne. I turn around to face him and smile. His hand leaves my back and I want to complain but hold it in. He smiles at me and greets the rest of the group.

“I’ll go get us some drinks,” he says. Someone makes a request for beers and everyone else calls out their agreements. I don’t bother to say that I’d prefer something else, I’ll just grab something later after this round.

He steps away and comes back a few minutes later with our drinks, placing a pitcher of beer on the table with empty glasses. Then, he comes back again with a different drink in his hand. “This one’s for you,” he says, handing it to me.

I stare at him in shock. How did he know I don’t drink beer? And how could he possibly know my favorite drink is an espresso martini?

He smiles at me, “I asked them to make it decaf so it doesn’t keep you up.”

I think I swoon. I know for a fact my panties are drenched right now. “I- Thank you so much, how did you know?”

He flashes me that fucking smile again and my pussy clenches. “I’ve seen how much coffee you drink, so I took a wild guess.”

I beam at him and take a sip, letting out a happy sigh at how good it tastes. I get distracted by a coworker asking me a question and my attention gets pulled into an animated conversation.

—

She’s so pretty like this, face flushed from the alcohol and laughter. I’m standing close to her but not close enough. I want to sling my arm around her shoulders and pull her towards me so she can lean on me. I want to trail my fingers up and down her back and draw absentminded circles over her skin while we talk. There’s so much I want to fucking do but I can’t yet, I have to wait.

I’m caught in some conversation with a few guys from the office about a new client the firm is taking on. I check my watch and decide I’ve spent enough time here and I’d much rather head home and do some more research on my girl.

“I’m gonna call it a night, I’ve got an early morning tomorrow,” I say, giving a wave to the rest of the group. I see her perk up at my words, “I’m gonna head out too! See you guys tomorrow!”

I knew she’d take her leave when I brought it up. My girl’s got an early morning workout class tomorrow. I know that from her calendar and because it is the perfect time for me to slip into her home and install my cameras.

We walk towards the exit together and head back towards the office.

“Did you drive today?” I ask, already know the answer is no because it’s Thursday and she always takes the train just in case she goes to happy hour and drinks. Because my girl is responsible. She shakes her head, “No, I took the train but I think I’ll just grab an Uber home.”

I shake my head, “Let me drive you home, I didn’t drink tonight anyway.”

“No, I can’t ask you to do that! I’m sure you have things to do!” She says, looking at me with wide eyes and flushed cheeks.

“Not at all, it’s no problem, let me take you home. Where do you live?” As if I really need her to answer that, I already know her address.

“I feel like you’re always doing favors for me and we’ve only just met,” she laughs and gives me her address. “Thank you so much,” she says, glancing up at me shyly.

I smile, “It’s not a problem.”

I’m a perfect gentleman when I drive her home, our conversation never lulling during the ride. The drink she’s had tonight has made her extra liberal with her laughter and I love it. I drop her off at her place and bid her goodnight.

—

The next morning, I track her location as she goes to her workout class, leaving her apartment empty. It’s so easy for me to slip into her apartment using my copy of her key.

I take my time, looking through her belongings, seeing the decoration of the space, noting what her pantry staples are, what her favorite brands of skincare are. And of course, I go poking around in her bedside table where I find a plethora of different sex toys my horny girl has. The thought of using any one of them on her makes my dick strain in my pants and I almost get sidetracked before I remember my purpose for being here today.

I hook up several tiny cameras, concealing them around her apartment so that, to an untrained eye, nothing would seem out of place. The cameras give me live video and audio feed and I take a moment to double check that the connection is secure before I take one last glimpse around her apartment and take my leave.

I get back to my car parked a few blocks down and pull up the live feed on my phone just in time to see her come home from her workout class. The clarity of the cameras is exquisite, capturing every angle of her. I groan as I watch her strip out of her workout outfit, her perfect perky tits spilling out of her sports bra and her tight ass on display.

I slide lower into my seat, my gaze fixed on her as she steps into the shower. I can’t stop myself from sliding a hand into my pants, palming my cock, the friction making me hiss. She soaps up her body teasingly, putting on a show almost like she knows I’m watching.

Fuck, she’s perfect. I groan as I stroke my cock with intention, the pent up desire burning through my veins. I want to be there with her in that shower, I want to run my fingers through her hair, to rub soap up and down her body, tease her and make her feel so fucking good.

I don’t last very long, it’s almost a little embarrassing how fast I cum, watching her shower. I clean myself off and head to the office, where I spend every single moment daydreaming about her gorgeous body and trying not to rush into her office and ravish her against her desk.

—

It’s the evening now, and I’m watching her settle in for bed, the several different cameras giving me every possible angle of her gorgeous form as she crawls into bed. I watch her grab her phone as she snuggles down into her covers and I pull up my mirrored copy of her device to see what she’s looking at.

It starts with cat videos and random TikToks and then I watch as she switches to a different app. Tumblr. My eyebrows raise when I see what she types into the search bar: rape fantasy. I watch her scroll through pictures, videos, text posts, watching as she starts to get hot and bothered. It looks like my pretty girl has a dark side.

I watch as she kicks the covers off her body and she slides a hand down into her pajama bottoms. I see her bit her lip as her hand starts to move beneath her clothes. She’s reading something absolutely filthy and the cameras in her room are picking up on her soft whimpers as she plays with herself.

Fuck, I fumble with my belt and undo my pants enough to pull my rock hard cock out. I let out a low groan as I fist the base of my cock, my breath harsh as dark tendrils of pleasure rush through my body. I keep an eye on the cameras, watching as she writhes on the bed, her pretty moans and cries going straight to my head as the pleasure builds inside of me.

I hear her whines pick up and I know she’s close to cumming. And then, I hear it over the camera. She whimpers out a name. My name. It’s enough to send me over the edge and I curse as I cum all over my hand, my vision going white for a moment before it clears just in time for me to see her ride out the waves of her own orgasm, still whimpering my fucking name.

My breathing is harsh as I sit back in my chair, watching as she comes down from her high and puts her phone away to curl up and drift off to sleep. I groan as I bask in the warm pleasure. I’m going to make all her little fantasies come to life and she’s going to keep moaning my name like my fucking slut.

—

I’ve waited long enough and I can’t wait any longer. Every single fucking day, I see her pretty smile and hear her intoxicating laugh at the office and every night, I stroke my cock to the sound of her whimpers while she plays with her dripping little pussy. I know she’s perfect for me. I know she wants me because every time I see her, I see her pupils dilate and her eyes glaze over when I stand too close.

It’s time for me to make her mine. I wait for her to go to bed after she rubs her sensitive little clit and cum all over her fingers. I’m going to give her the best orgasm of her life tonight and she’s never going to have to rely on herself to make that pretty pussy feel good because I’ll do it for her gladly.

I slip into her apartment when I know she’s asleep and I creep into her room. She’s so fucking pretty, laid on her bed, wearing those shorts that show off her ass and a tank top that barely covers her tits. I’m going to fuck her and make her mine.

I strip out of my clothes and slide into the bed with her. I pin her underneath my body and use one hand to hold both her wrists above her head and another to cover her mouth. I watch as she jerks awake, her eyes wide with fear as she whines into my hand.

“Shh, shh, it’s me, don’t be scared, darling. I’ve got you,” I purr into her ear and grind myself against her body, my hard cock pressing against her softness. I watch as her wide eyes take me in and I see that fear slowly transition into arousal. I laugh and dip my head and lick her jawline and kiss her neck.

She whimpers into my hand again. “Such a good girl for me, you’ve been teasing me at work, flaunting your pretty little body, looking at me with your fuck me eyes, did you think I wouldn’t do anything about it?” I growl into her ear.

I kiss her jaw softly, “I’m going to let your hands go but be a good girl for me and keep them above your head.” I slide my hand down her body and I pull the neckline of her top down so her pretty tits bounce free.

She’s such an obedient girl as she keeps her hands still for me. I keep my hand over her mouth and lean down to capture a straining nipple in my mouth while my free hand goes to pinch at the other. I hear her muffled moan behind my hand and I groan in response. “Fuck, you taste so good.

I let her nipple go and trail my hand down her body, pulling her shorts and panties down to reveal her dripping cunt. “Fuck, you’re so fucking wet, all for me, isn’t that right?”

I loosen my hand so she can speak and she whimpers and nods. That’s not good enough, I land a hard slap against her cunt and she lets out a short scream. “Answer me, are you wet for me, darling?”

“Yes! Yes! I’m so fucking wet for you, please!” Her voice is breathless and I reward her with a soft stroke of her hard clit that makes her whine.

I slide a finger inside of her warmth and she arches her back. “Oh fuck, please, that feels so good.” She sounds so fucking good like this.

I pull out my finger and smirk at her when I hear her whimper is desperation. I reach up and press my finger, wet with her pussy, against her mouth. “Open up,” I purr and watch as she obeys to take my finger into her mouth.

“Good girl,” I murmur, sliding a second finger into her mouth and pushing in deep, the sound of her choked gag making my cock stiffen even more. “That’s it, take it like a good girl.”

I use my other hand to rub at her clit while I make her choke on my fingers. “You like this, don’t you? You like gagging on my fingers like a fucking whore, huh? You like me rubbing your clit like this? Are you going to cum?” I growl, feeling her pussy clench and her little clit pulse at my words.

Her mouth is too preoccupied to speak but I can tell by the way she’s writhing that she’s close because it’s the same way her body shakes every time she cums while I watch on the camera. I keep up the attention on her clit and press my fingers to the back of her throat. I feel her shatter in my hands, her cry of pleasure muffled by my fingers and her pretty pussy falling apart for me as she cums.

I let her ride out her pleasure before I pull my fingers out of her mouth and capture her mouth in a bruising kiss. When I pull away, she’s whining and begging, “Please, please, fuck me, please, I want your cock.”

I laugh, “Such a cum drunk little slut, huh? I give you one orgasm and now you’re begging for my cock? Fuck, you’re perfect.”

Her blown out pupils meet mine and I know that in that moment, I’m hers forever. I would do anything and everything for her and right now, I’m going to fuck her until she breaks around my cock.

I lean down and kiss her harshly, lining my cock up with her weeping cunt. “Scream for me,” I groan as I slam my cock home inside of her. She does exactly what I tell her to do, she screams. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight, darling,” I set a punishing pace with my hips, every single thrust slamming her into the bed.

Her pussy grips me like a vice and I can feel every shudder and shiver of her body as she gives in to the pleasure. I brace one hand against the bed and the other goes to wrap around her throat, choking her just enough to make her lightheaded.

Her cries echo in the space around us, every single sob leaving her lips urging me on. Her face is flushed as her body gives in to the pleasure I’m forcing onto her. I watch as her eyes flutter closed and her pussy starts to milk me rhythmically and I know she’s close. She lets out a broken whine and I speed up my hips, every thrust rubbing against her pulsing walls.

“Come on, cum for me, pretty girl. That’s it, feel good for me, FUCK!” I feel her cum around me, the shuddering of her cunt pushing me over the edge as she screams my name. I groan as I bury my face into her neck, panting harshly as I try to regain control of my body. I pull myself off of her, the slide of my cock out of her tight cunt making both of us gasp, and I collapse next to her on the bed.

She rolls over and presses herself against me, looking up at me with her pretty eyes.

—

“You know you could’ve just asked me out, I would’ve said yes,” I tease, running a hand up and down his chest.

He laughs as he wraps an arm around me and pulls me close, “I know but this way is more fun, don’t you agree?” I smile and nod.

I snuggle into his arms, “I wanna watch the video of this.” I feel his entire body go rigid. “What?” He asks, his voice hesitant and tinged with disbelief.

I giggle, “You know, the footage from all the cameras you installed in here.”

I didn’t think he could be more still but he does. “What are you talking about?” His voice is low and panicked.

I look up at his face and giggle at his dumbfounded expression. “What, you think I didn’t know you came in here and put cameras everywhere?” I lean up and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Don’t be embarrassed, I think it’s fucking hot,” I say.

He blinks at me. “How- how did you know?”

I bury my nose into his chest and take a deep breath. “Your cologne. I knew as soon as I came back from my workout class that morning that you’d been in my apartment. And it’s not hard to notice all the cameras, you’re slick but not that slick.” I tease him gently.

He lets out a breath and gives me a low chuckle. “Fuck, you’re too smart for your own good,” he laughs. I giggle, “I also know you planted that bug on my computer that day. And you mirrored my phone.”

He shakes his head and laughs disbelievingly. “How did you figure those out? You can’t smell cologne through a phone, can you?”

I smile, “No but I can reverse engineer your code.” He blinks back at me. “I double-majored in computer science in college, I know my stuff,” I beam at him.

He presses his lips against my forehead. “Is there anything you don’t know?”

I shake my head.

“Fuck, you are absolutely fucking perfect for me. I love you, my little mastermind.”

I giggle, “I love you too, tech guy.”

[windor-truffle]

5/6 chapters done for the first arc of Two Hearts Could Be One!!!!!!! The last one is still missing a lot of scenes but at this rate I *should* be able to meet my self-imposed June deadline :) Playing the remaster has definitely helped too, since the beginning of my fic is more similar to canon than the eventual divergences. aaaaa I hope I can post it soon!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[cod-indulgences]

Johnny x female!reader, pregnancy kink, baby trapping, possessive vibes (reader is the one being baby trapped)

Soap never thought much about kids until he met you. Now it's gripped him like a fever- thinking of you fat with his baby, an immediate claim on your body that can't be hidden, a neon sign screaming Johnny fucked me to anyone who blinks at you. Tits getting heavy, nipples soft and dark, the way your back would curve to balance out the weight in your belly. Soft bodied and warm as you cradle a little newborn to your chest, something with a spike of dark hair and little fat hands.

He lets himself dream while holding his cock as deep inside as he can, the tip shoved up against your cervix, playing with your clit until you come around him, milking his balls so that everything goes into you, fills you up. Carefully withdrawing to avoid spilling even a drop of previous come, thumbing any back inside you as you whine and try to protect your sore pussy- sorry, love, can't help myself, so fucking gorgeous. Just another round, he'll be gentle, sweet to your lovely cunt as it hungrily drinks up everything he gives it.

Soap's not a man who denies himself very well.

If your birth control gets a bit messed up- little pills in flimsy packages, love, not surprising that the case snapped and spilled all over when he opened the bathroom cabinet and it fell out. It's alright, you can get more later, come back to bed- it's not his fault. Accidents happen. The emergency condoms are old, no wonder it snapped and spilled creamy come into your pussy, you only realized it too late when Soap pulled out after cuddling with his cock still inside.

The plan B he finds gets flushed, and he's helpful as you dig through your purse, sure you just had it, until he soothes your worries and distracts you until you're moaning and coming on his cock again, drunk on your orgasms, mind slipping away from thoughts of pills to greedily soak up pleasure instead.

The little plastic stick in your hand, two solid lines, is one of the most gorgeous things Soap ever saw, next to your lovely self of course.

Now he's got everything he wanted, playing with your breasts as they grow, tugging your nipples and whispering in your ear about how they'll feel wet with your milk for the little one. The curve of your belly as it swells, your thighs and ass thicker, the taste of your pussy changing on his tongue as he indulges every night, sucking on your clit, buried so deep he can't see anything except your thighs and the arching curve above him where his baby grows.

And of course this one will need a sibling- easy enough, breasts sore so he just has to scrape his teeth over your nipples to make you shake, your body opening up for his cock and letting him just take you, too tired to think to check for a condom when he groans and holds you close, thrusting deep inside, so good love, so tight and hot for me.

And once you've got two under your belt, what's a third, right?

[shhhsecretsideblog]

Awards Show 

This isn’t a prompt or request (they’re still closed for now). This is just a self indulgent little scene that turned into a 3k fic. Bit more intimacy/sensual themes than my usual, but still has all my fav tropes :) Hope people enjoy this one x

I couldn’t resist the opportunity to show you off to my friends and colleagues at the company awards dinner. This may have been the biggest you’d ever gotten during any of your pregnancies; your tight firm belly was a beach ball beneath your maroon silk dress, hanging low and heavy on your hips. My hand wrapped around your waist and squeezed your hip affectionately as we mingled through the crowd. With a champagne glass in hand you smiled and laughed at the joke my boss made. 

“You look ready to pop my dear. You better not steal the show tonight by going into labour” The CEO had said with a grin, looking in awe at your incredible size. 

We both laughed, my hand moving up and down your lower back. If only he knew.

Your contractions had started this afternoon, the slow gentle tightening of your womb signalling our baby’s readiness to come into the world. But even with your contractions, we still put our black tie outfits on and went out this evening to the company awards show. You knew it was important to me and my career. Plus, neither of us could deny the thrill of having to ride out your contractions in such a public setting. 

“How are you doing darling?” I whispered in your ear after my boss and CEO walked away. 

“Mmmm… okay…. They’re getting a little stronger now though.” You said with a breathy moan, your hand naturally moving across the underside of your belly, rubbing the taut skin through the silk fabric of your dress. 

“Let’s quickly pop into the bathroom before we take our seats. I can check to see how you’re progressing.”  

With my hand around your waist I felt how much more you were waddling, a sign of how low the baby was sitting in the bowl of your pelvis. I squeezed your hip and took a long breath to try and control myself. 

In the single occupancy bathroom I quickly locked the door behind us. You found your way to the sink and braced against the bathroom counter, swaying your hips through another contraction. I growled at the sight, seeing you so gravid and fertile, your body doing something so powerful and natural. 

“You look incredible, my love.” I stood behind you, pressing my body against your backside and wrapping my arms around you to feel the firm and hard skin of your belly as it contracted. A low moan came from your lips as the wave reached its peak and I bent forward, my chest to your back, whispering in your ear to breathe. 

When the contraction had passed, I pulled up the fabric of your maroon silk dress, slowly up your thighs until I reached my destination. You moaned as I slipped my fingers inside, deep but gentle, knowing how sensitive you were during labour. 

“Wow darling…. You’re already at 7cm.” My words were thick with desire in your ear. “Do you think you can hold on for the rest of the evening?” 

You smiled at me through the reflection of the mirror, grinning with excitement. 

We made our way out the bathroom and found our seats for the dinner and awards ceremony. I could feel your breathing was heavier, your movements were slower, and I beamed with pride at how well you were doing. Everyone was in awe of your attendance this evening, being so advanced in your pregnancy, and yet nobody knew just how close you were to not being pregnant anymore. 

Our seats were in the middle of the hall, on a large round table with nearly a dozen other people. Some colleagues I knew, others I didn’t, all with their partners or spouses. Music was playing, waiters were bringing food to tables, drinks were flowing, the room was soon filled with conversation and laughter as people got progressively more drunk. All the while you sat beautifully beside me, joining in discussions and smiling brightly. My gorgeous wife, heavily pregnant, and secretly in active labour. 

Two courses into our meal you started to hum quietly beside me, shifting in your seat. My hand found your thigh, my thumb rubbing soothing motions across your leg over the thin fabric of your dress. “You’re doing great darling, just breathe through them. Not long now.” I purred in your ear, knowing that wasn’t true. The awards had just commenced, my boss and CEO taking the stage to begin proceedings, and like all previous company dinners I knew it would be a long evening. 

Contraction after contraction wracked your body, but you showed no obvious signs of discomfort. You’d gone a little quieter perhaps but your smile remained bright to everyone around us. Every now and then throughout the evening the room would erupt in obligatory applause as someone was granted an award or achievement from the company. During one of these moments my ears pricked, attuned to your sounds, and I heard a low moan slip from your parted lips. 

My arm wrapped around your shoulders, leaning in close, my breath caressing your neck. “Darling…. You okay?” I asked, concerned but unbelievably aroused. 

“Nngh… baby feels so low…” you whispered, spreading your legs a little under the table. 

I shivered, stuttering slightly with a husky voice “D-Do you need to push?” 

“N-no…. I’m okay just…. A lot of pressure—oooof” 

I kissed the side of your cheek affectionately, my hand still wrapped around your shoulders while the other squeezed your thigh. “You’re doing brilliantly, my love. Just keep breathing through them.” I shifted in my seat to hide my obvious arousal. The idea that you might start pushing right here in this venue was almost too much to bear. I took a long sip of my drink and focused back on the stage to distract myself. 

Half way through the awards, after all the food had been consumed leaving dessert plates and empty wine bottles littering the table, you suddenly reached out and gripped my thigh squeezing tight. I looked over to you with a mix of concern and excitement. You had slumped slightly in your seat, spreading your legs wider under the table and tilting your hips up, your breasts and belly rising and falling with your rapid breathing. 

“Breathe…. Breathe through it darling, we’re almost there.” I encouraged softly, my hand moving to rest upon your heavy belly sitting between your spread thighs, feeling the rock hard muscles beneath my fingers. You grunted a little, a sound I recognised, and my eyes nearly came out their sockets. 

“Don’t push darling… you need to hold it a little longer okay.” I tried to soothe you, but my heart was thumping in my chest and my insides were coiling with unbridled excitement. 

“M-my— waters—” you croaked, relaxing after the intense contraction. 

I looked down; from above your dress looked completely dry but when I felt underneath the top layer I felt the liquid that was now dripping down your inner thighs and onto the floor. Quickly grabbing my fabric napkin and yours, I dropped them under the table, putting one between your legs and the other on the floor to soak up the worst of it. 

“Shhhh… you’re okay my love. Looks like it’s nearly time, baby wants to meet us.” My hand moved possessively over your belly, my smile wide and beaming with pride. You smiled, your cheeks flushed a little, leaning closer to kiss me softly. 

“Can we go now?” You asked quietly, and I noticed the light sheen of sweat on your forehead. 

“Yes darling, you’ve done wonderfully. Let’s go and meet our new baby—”

Then my name very loudly echoed across the hall and all eyes were focused in our direction. The award. Shit. My boss was standing on stage, crystal award in hand, and everyone began to clap. 

“Damn— I erm— do I go—” my words fumbled from my mouth as I looked between you and the stage. You were absolutely full to the brim with our baby, so close to delivering…. But staying would mean you would have to hold on a little bit longer, and that thought sent a shiver up my spine. 

“Go sweetheart, go get your award.” You said affectionately, putting a hand on my cheek. 

“Are you sure? You’re incredible.” I kissed your lips, both of us basqued under a spotlight from the venue, and then I walked quickly up to the stage to receive my award. 

Looking out across the crowd my eyes were focused only on you. Sitting proudly at our table, your eyes beamed with joy as you clapped along with the rest of the room. Clearing my throat, trying to regain professional composure, I began my speech. Your eyes glistened with affection and pride, hanging onto my every word even though you had heard me practice this over and over again. 

Then I noticed a change in you, barely perceptible to anyone else but I knew your body better than my own. You tensed, your smiling expression now forced, and you had one hand gripping the edge of the table while the other moved to the underside of your belly. Fumbling my words I was utterly distracted watching you in the middle of the crowd, secretly riding out what looked like an intense contraction. I was in awe of you, still smiling and beaming with pride, while your body squeezed and contracted and opened for our baby. You’d never looked more beautiful. 

I regurgitated my well rehearsed speech, looking only at you, as if the rest of the room no longer existed. Your full and swollen bosom was rising and falling rapidly atop your large, firm belly, and you seemed to be panting silently through the wave. Minutes passed and contraction wasn’t letting you go, I was still talking and you were still squirming in your chair. I watched as you grit your teeth, gripping the sides of your chair and spreading your legs wider under the table. Your demeanor shifted, something had changed. I could see your jaw clamped, teeth almost bared, and your face was contorted with effort— 

Holy shit you were pushing!!! 

I gripped the podium in front of me, my hips twitching, the sight of you pushing nearly throwing me over the edge of ecstasy. Clearing my throat, I managed to continue my speech, all the while I watched you instinctively push right there in the middle of this formal event. I smirked as I got towards the end, where I very publicly thanked my beautiful pregnant wife. All eyes across the venue suddenly turned in your direction. I didn’t know what you’d do, whether you’d admit defeat and acknowledge your labour, or if you’d continued to hide the fact you were uncontrollably pushing…. 

To my surprise, your face broke into a wide gleeful grin as you waved at me on stage and blew a kiss across the room, amazingly keeping up appearances. But your legs were wide under the table, I could see from this position up on the stage just how far apart they’d spread. Was our baby crowning underneath that silk dress of yours? How close were they to coming out? How long could you keep up pretences before nature took full control?… 

I practically skipped off the stage back towards our table, the room clapping with obligatory applause. 

“You’re pushing.” I whispered in your ear as I bent down to kiss your cheek. 

“Mmmmh— couldn’t help it—” you growled a reply, equally as quiet but heavy with effort. 

“We can’t leave right now, everyone will be watching us.” I sat down in my chair beside you, slipping my arm around you and pulling you closer into an embrace. 

“I— I know—” you were panting, legs spread under the table, your hand gripping my thigh and digging your nails in. 

“How much longer can you hold on darling? How close is the baby?” My words were thick with excitement. 

“Baby… is low… but I don’t think… they’re crowning yet…. But-unhhhhhhhhhh-I can’t stop pushing—”

“Shhhhh… you’re doing brilliantly my love. If you can, try little pushes for now. We don’t know if you’re fully dilated and we don’t want you to tear.” I cooed, stroking your thigh that was spread open right against mine. 

As the next award was announced, I heard you grunting during the applause. You said the baby wasn’t crowning but those sounds you were making, your subtle movements, were all too familiar to me. We certainly weren’t going to make it home for this birth, and I doubted if we’d even make it to the car. And yet you gave me no signs of wanting to move, staring blankly up at the stage as your chest heaved and your belly contracted, silently pushing our baby closer to this world. 

“You’re doing wonderful darling, so incredible. Keep doing what your body tells you—”

“— I can feel the head—” you suddenly blurted out, twitching on your seat and pulling your legs together with an obvious grimace. 

“Let’s go, now while everyone’s distracted.” I put my arms around you, helping you out of your chair. You were trembling. 

“Mmmmmgh— it feels like the baby is gonna fall out—” you moaned under your breath, cradling your belly as you rose to your feet. 

I laughed a little, supporting your hips. “It’s not going to fall out sweetheart, you’ve got a lot more pushing to go yet.” I purred in your ear as I led you out the dinner hall, your legs were unsteady and your gait was obscenely wide. I had no idea what was going on under your clothing, how close the baby was to being born, which only made this whole situation all the more thrilling. 

Beyond the doors of the formal company dinner, the moan that came from your mouth was deep and guttural as you stopped to brace against a nearby wall. Palms to the flat surface your hips jerked backwards against me as you bore down uncontrollably. 

“Nnnnnghhh— ohhhhhh I can feel the head— starting to come out—”

I rubbed your back and hips, squeezing and providing counter pressure that I knew you’d need. “Try not to push too hard babe… we need to get you back to the car…” 

Realising the corridor was empty, all guests inside the dinner hall, I slipped a hand under the silk fabric of your dress climbing up your inner thigh to feel your progress. I didn’t even make it to your entrance as I felt the distinct bulge of your underwear, the head nestled so low it was pushing against your lower lips. 

“Oh fuck babe…. The head is right there…” I groaned, fingers running across the damp fabric of your cotton underwear. 

“Nnnnnghh— I know— I can feel it— trying to come out—” you huffed, your fingers curling against the wall as your body continued to bear down without your permission. 

“Hold on a bit longer— we need to get you to the car.” I tried to plead with you but I knew you were not the one in control here. We were at the mercy of Mother Nature. We played a dangerous game and I just hoped I could get you somewhere private. 

“I don’t know if I can make it—”

“What do you need darling? What do you want to do?” I groaned into your ear, my body flushed behind you, my hands still under your dress between your legs. 

“Nnnnghh— hold it in— while I push—” you spluttered as you widened your stance, preparing for another push.

My hand moved, cupping your womanhood with my palm. “I’ve got you baby— do what you need to do—” I could barely contain my excitement at what was happening. My body tensed in time with yours and I felt the bulge against my palm grow as you pushed, the first sliver of our baby starting to part you from within. 

“Keep going, my love, I won’t let them come out too fast.” 

Your sounds were deep and gravelled and primal, but not loud enough to draw the attention of anyone inside the venue. One… two… three grunting pushes against my palm and the baby hadn’t made much progress. Thankfully. 

“Ohhhh— okay— it’s passed—” you croaked, pushing yourself away from the wall and catching your breath. 

“Are you ready to try walking to the car again?” My hand moved up and down your lower back affectionately, keeping you supported. 

You nodded, running a hand over the full swell of your belly. “Yes, let’s keep moving. But we need to go slow… the head is right there, just inside of me.” 

Growling at your statement, I wrapped my arm around your waist to support you as we both walked slowly down the corridor. “I know darling, it’s really close. Our little one is very eager to meet us.” I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face, looking down at you with that full belly, your bow-legged walk, on the cusp of giving birth at any moment. 

We made it out of the venue but on the steps out the front of the building you abruptly stopped and grabbed the railing, bending your knees and grunting with an uncontrollable push. 

“Oh darling…” I quickly moved my hands to your hips to support you as your body bore down instinctively. “This one really is in a hurry. Just go with it, but we need to get you to the car soon.” 

You shuddered and almost mooed with the effort of your push, your body taking full control in this moment in a desperate bid to expel our baby from your womb. Over and over again you pushed. I couldn’t move my hands to check your progress, they were supporting all your weight at this moment. We were halfway down the steps outside the venue and nowhere near our car, a far cry from the privacy I wanted for our child’s birth. 

You grunted with each push, the sound sending all the blood in my body to my crotch. I knew from our previous births just how hard you were pushing, knowing the baby was probably slipping forward and back under your dress with each push. “Sweetheart…. Are we going to make it back to the car?” I asked nervously, feeling your knees bend a little more, your hips lowering slightly. 

“Nnnnnghhh—don’t know— it’s definitely— starting to c-c-c-crown—!” You groaned between pushes. 

When the contraction finished you were gasping for air as you twisted from the railing and sagged into my arms. “My…. My knickers… seem to be keeping the baby… from coming out….” Your voice was a caressed whisper against my chest. 

“You’re doing amazing, my love. You’re an incredible goddess.” I said, kissing the top of your head and holding you and your swollen belly against me. “Do you want to keep going? Or are we having this baby right here?” 

The look you gave me was filled with both pleasure and pain, your eyes glistening with dark enjoyment. “Let’s— keep going— I can hold them in….” 

I took this moment between contractions to feel your progress, my hands running from you hip down your leg and up under your dress. Your body shivered when I reached the apex of your thighs. 

“Are you sure about that, my love?” I asked with a teasing arch of my eyebrows as my fingers brushed over your underwear. “That’s not just you I can feel…. The baby’s head is really starting to crown.” 

“I- I know—” your words were breathy and husky, and I could tell you were feeling extremely full right now. 

“And you think you can walk all the way across the car park with a baby between your legs?” My fingers gently stroked circles on the soft flesh of your inner thigh. 

You nodded, but your face grimaced with another contraction and you started to pant against my chest, squeezing my shoulders. 

“You want to push again, don’t you sweetheart?” 

You nodded against me. 

“But you don’t want to give birth right here?” 

You shook your head. 

My hand then moved back over the partially crowned head in your underwear, cupping the sphere and holding it in place.

“Shhh… it’s okay I got you. Push baby…. You can push now….” I growled into your ear as I wrapped my arm around your waist while the other was cupped between your legs. “Push right against my hand— that’s it— I’ll keep you from crowning fully…” 

It felt like your entire body was quaking against me as you submitted to your body’s instincts and bore down right against my palm. The sounds you made were animalistic and feral, it was music to my ears. You pushed for another minute and a half, with each one I could feel the pressure from the baby’s head pressing more and more against my palm. Eventually you were released from the contraction, breathing heavily and barely able to stand. 

“Let’s…go….before…the…next one…comes…” you whispered, exhausted but clearly aroused. 

Together we walked slowly across the carpark, our car seemed like a mirage in the distance, but you were determined and I was more than happy to comply. I wondered how many times we would have to stop on the way, how many times I would need to cup your bulging lips, so you could have the birth you wanted in the comfort of our car.