#v . young dumb hopeful

[eiikyuu]

verse tags.

[dilf-docs]

A Pillar I Am Of Pride

vander x younger!fem reader

summary: you're too young, that's what he tells himself; that you could be one of his kids. but of course you have spent too much time with vi, and unfortunately for him, stubborn rhymes with your name: you just don't know when to quit.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (25ish/45ish), smut, p. in v., ofc there is SIZE KINK who do u think i am (he can choke me with those huge arms idcidc), manhandling, thigh riding, dirty talk, virgin!reader, public sex (they violating every health code on the last drop), belly bulge, cream pie, breeding kink if u squint, this is basically pwp also with happy ending (no one blows up or dies yet THIS IS my story and i say they're all happy as a big family SHUT UP)

word count: 3,142 words

side note: hope the arcane community hasn't died yet, looking at the amount of votes i received on the poll where i asked if y'all wanted stuff from the show. I LOVE VANDER!!! saw the drawing and went insane. LIKE i got infected with a raw carnal primal need to write for one of zaun dilfs,, it literally took my brain hostage ++based this little filthy 2D piece on the hozier song dinner and diatribes.

You just don't know when to quit.

Vander isn't dumb. He's lived enough and seen enough. He's lived enough to tell when the admiration became adoration on those big eyes of yours, that looked up to him first but now down without an ounce of shame through his sturdy built whenever you think he isn't looking.

He isn't dumb, so he knows he shouldn't encourage it. Yet, Vander also thinks there is something different about you.

There is this desire to protect you, love you like one of his kids, but there is something unique about you he can't quite tell, enough to differentiate you from viewing you as part of them, even if there's a bed belonging to you next to theirs.

He is a fool, for thinking you wouldn't end up adopting at least one of his or the kids' traits. And of course, lucky him, it had to be Violet's headstrong nature.

"Vander" you call out his name, and he's brought back to the red and the bridge.

He can still see you, eighteen, fighting against an enforcer twice your size: because he took the life of your parents, faces Vander had seen in the mines and then at their meetings, ready to fight in the name of the undercity, for a change and a future: for their daughter.

That is what Vander wants for his kids in Zaun. For you.

So he negotiates with them, even if your eyes fall when you learn the truth one evening, eavesdropping. He pleaded you not to tell the rest, afraid they'll see him differently, just like you. Still, you keep calling his name like you did at the bridge: like a hero; savior. He saved you from death, but you'd die for him.

He keeps his eyes trained on the glass he's wiping as you take a seat in the stools infront of him, unable to look you in the eyes. It kills him; gets harder each passing day. He can't keep lying to himself, but he can lie to you. Protect you, he swore he would do that when he saved you and took Powder and Vi. So, yes, he'll lie his ass off, that his heart too hasn't changed after the years; that it doesn't beat for you and only you.

"Hey, y/n" he forces out, but even saying your name brings him pain.

When did you go from a kid leaving the last remains of hope and naive kids in Zaun drop sooner than others, to a woman equally dangerous in heart and beauty? When did you stop looking like a big sister or a babysitter, to more as a mother to Mylo, Claggor, Powder and Vi?

"Vander" you call again, touching his arm softly, but it burns. It burns.

He stops what he's doing, still without sparing a glance your way.

"C'mon, V." he hates the way such a silly nickname, a monosyllable on top of that, makes him feel. "Look at me, will you?"

He does so, because he can't deny you anything.

"There you go" you laugh easily, as if you didn't know the power you held over him. "Easy, isn't it?"

"You better let me finish" stern, but a smile betrays him.

"No one is stopping you" you huff, "or bothering you"

He finishes the glass, picking up another. "You are"

"Me?" you laugh the accusation off. Then it dies down, and all that's left is the neon hues of outside, reflecting something more mellow, akin to sincerity in your face. "You're right, it's always me"

He doesn't know what to say, all words lost. Silco used to say he knew how to move the people, that masses would follow just by looking at him: Vander always knew what to say.

But as of late, during the end of the day, when it's just you and the dirty glasses he cleans away, Vander finds it hard to speak even, like you're trying to talk in a language he doesn't know, or worst, used to, yet is too old for that now.

"Where is everyone?" he asks, and when you laugh, he knows he's said something stupid. But there are more stupid things to say, like I love you, so he's safe. For now.

"Might be because we're closed" you mock. "The kids are asleep, if that's what you truly wanted to ask. Made sure of it"

The last part, whispered like a secret. He can see the dare laced in between your words, the desire that pours like the drink he's serving you right now, but he's too old to play games.

"Good" then pushes the glass to where you sit. "Drink"

"Is it new?" you inspect the glass. "I hope you're not trying to poison me"

He laughs, "You know I couldn't hurt you, y/n"

There goes that expression again, and he hates to realize he's playing along.

"I know, Vander" you take a full sip, as if showing him just how much you'd trust him. Like he could have a gun put to your head and you'd understand; like he could have a hand around your neck and you'd breath the last huffs of oxygen in his name.

Silence settles in, until you decide to break it by saying:

"You know, if you wanted to get me drunk" the drink dissapears in a rough gulp, the liquid smooth while it burns and slides down your throat, "you could've just asked"

"And for what would I want to do that?" he bites right into the bait.

The stool creaks as you get up, and he finds your face closer than the smoke and ashes of when he takes a drag.

"Because I know you too want this" you whisper, dangerously low.

His breath hitches, heart beating fast. He could break you in two, if he wanted to, but now trembles like a leaf in the wind with just your perfume and eyes piercing through his.

"Want what?" he dares to ask, duties forgotten long ago.

You click your tongue, maybe in dissapointment.

You just don't know when to quit.

"The evening's slow" now sweet, tempting. "About to end"

He feels drunk, even if he hasn't had a drop. You're lulling him right into your trap. It doesn't matter if he has stopped you before: ignoring the bat of your eyelashes, the lingering touches and the sweet words that seemed reserved for him only.

"What would you do?" he gulps, Adam's apple bobbing. To me, too coward to voice out loud; to stop this nonsense.

You walk over to him, standing still, almost defiant, even if he doubles your size; the thought only makes heat pool in your stomach. The ember of the moonlight shines over your corageous eyes, and Vander thinks he really needs to shorten your quality time with Vi. A hand traces over his defined pecs: hands he's seen before hold a gun, now touching him with a softness that doesn't belong in the undercity.

"Don't you think knowing it's late makes it easier know what I have in mind?" you laugh, and it tickles parts in his body he isn't ready to say yet. "Just give in"

You should've know when to quit.

His eyes darken, and this isn't the Vander you know. If anything, you should be scared, but you rub your thighs together, spot already wet.

"If anyone's about to give in, it's you"

Before you can register, his lips smack together with yours as he takes the lead. His big hands cup your face, traveling down until they reach your hips, and the pressure of his size feels so much better than you imagined.

"Tell your man what would yo do tonight?" huskily whispered your way. His knee finds it's way between your thighs as he applies pressure to your already slick cunt, making you yelp. "Or cat got your tongue?"

You're at loss for words, for the very first time in a while. All that time spent provoking him, edging and pushing for a reaction, so sure of the hidden flame sparking behind the curtain of smoke of his pipe, to know surrender so easily, like your body is unable to react at all.

So instead, you entangle your fingers through his greying hair, a small whine escaping your lips, the sleeping fierce need of battle now translated in the fight for dominance, his mouth growing more demanding.

Vander pushes your body against the bar, making the wood creak. He applies more pressure with his knees, making you whimper again, his tongue reaching every spot inside your sweet mouth.

"God, you're so sweet" he mumbles.

"Then why did you stop yourself all this time?" you breath out, as tempting as the shadows that walk through the streets.

Hi smiles devishly, biting your lip. "Ain't nothing stopping me no more"

He uses your body as he pleases, handling it to his complete and utter advantage, thumbs now digging into your hipbones before he feels you grinding against his knee.

"Greedy little thing. Haven't I taught you manners, ey?" but the way he looks at you, like a starved man who's been denied a meal for years, encourages you to keep rolling your hips. Once you find a steady rhythm, he releases your hips and moves to grab your wrists, pinning you down in the free bar. You whine, the pain of the hard wood on your back digging on your skin.

"Vander" you gasp, but he shuts up the pain by forcing his lips right back. His handsgrab back ahold of your thighs so you keep up the rhythm. He can feel a spot over his clothes start to dampen, doing nothing but augmenting the hunger. God, he can even feel the smell of your arousal.

You moan, head leaning back.

"Feels good?" he asks, and you mumble a nonsensical myriad of words that sound like yes. He nips your neck, making you squirm under his touch.

"C'mon, baby. I ain't deaf but I didn't hear you" Vander taunts, biting still. Now he travels to your collarbone and then tits, removing your shirt to reveal no bra under. Of course, you little vixen had planned it all and he fell like a fool. Not that he's complaining, of course, giving a lick to the soft rosy skin around your nipples.

"M-more, please!" you whimper out loud, mind numb.

"You wanted it so bad, yet can't even speak" he murmurs, sucking a spot dangerously near to your nipple. Your movements against his knee come to a halt, but he makes sure to keep you and your puffy core grinding against his thigh. "Talk"

He should know that you wouldn't give up that easily, prideful as he was, no matter if this is what you've always wanted.

"I said talk" your legs tremble around his when he forces you down harder. "I wanna hear you ask for what you say you wanted so bad, don't think I didn't notice all your traps, taunts and plays, little vixen"

The nickname makes you moan, inciting you to pour the words out.

"Ruin me, Vander" and he barely has time to react, knowing that no man has ever touched you before, your untainted territories dripping for him. "Please- take me and make me yours"

"You know I've never denied you anything" he breaths against your neck, "how could I ever say no to you if you ask so nicely, huh? I see you remembered those manners"

It's now his hand what touches between your thighs, leg long gone. His fingers rub firm circles around your clit through the cloth, making you shiver.

"Let's start small, yeah?" he encourages, "I know you're my brave girl, but I would like you to come on my fingers first"

Vander strips you down, eyes going dark when he sees your needy cunt on display. He shuffles himself down between your legs, and the pressure is new and much, you feel you could come with just the touch of his hand.

"You're so pretty. Can't believe you're giving all of this to an old man like me" he kneels down as you sit legs opened up on the bar, dragging his tongue through your wet folds.

"Sit still, yeah? Let me take care of you" he licks again, gently sucking on it as well. He can't help but wonder why he folded so easy, as if he hadn't put a stop or ignored all of your previous attempts at having him. Now he has you, under him, saying his name in a way he hadn't before, as he makes out with your puffy clit.

"Fuck" you gasp, head falling against the wood. Your hands and toes curl, waves of sensations never felt before washing over you, as Vander continues giving your pussy ministrations.

The energy is electric, your arousal flowing like a river, making wet slurping sounds come out of his lips, feeling up the empty bar, your moans as back track filling his ears. Vander's beard is covered in your juices, making all of this the more obscene.

"I see you liking it" he jokes, licking some of it off his mouth. He adjusts your legs over his broad shoulders, barely noticing the added weight. Your thighs are so close, he can feel them tremble as he slips a finger inside of you, pumping in and out.

"V-Vander" you whine in ecstasy. He loves the little sounds coming out of your mouth; obscene symphony. He adds another finger, now curling them upwards, making your walls drip more while clenching around them, loving the sensation. Your nails dig so deep, you can feel blisters inside of them, holding yourself for as what would be your first orgasm.

"I-I think I'm going to-" he can sense it, years of experience ahead from you. So now he gives his fingers a break, kneeling to let his tongue enter the game again. It swirls around the tight walls, making you squirm.

"Fingers. Now" you demand, and he's carrying your legs again on his shoulders, thrusting them inside of you aggresively. You feel your folds clench around them, your very first orgasm washing over you.

"You behaved well" he praises while kissing your puffy cunt, skin glistening and still sensible. "That's my brave girl"

He uses the cloth he's cleaned the glasses with to wipe off himself. You gasp, laughing even if your eyelids feel heavy.

"What? Think I'm gonna be dirty when I fuck the shit out of you?"

You didn't think his mouth could be so filthy, used to his fatherly side, but oh, you're not complaining. He removes his belt, pulling his pants down. Of course he's huge down there, you think, as the tent behind his underwear marks a reasonably large silhoutte.

"Now, will you be brave one last time? I don't want to scare you, or hurt you?" his boxer falls to his knees, dick hard. You gulp, but can't back off now. He, however, can sense your doubt. "Just say it, and we'll stop"

"No" even you are surprised by the conviction in your voice. "I want you, Vander. Always will"

You open up your legs, closer to the edge of the furniture. He walks over until his dick brushes your cunt, pulling up your legs once again, a position you've discovered as of today, might be your favorite.

"See, there is a reason I didn't clean you up. Don't think I don't know my manners as well"

He lubes with your still wet pussy, wasting no time to rub his dick against your glistening folds.

"We're alone, but don't want to wake up the kids, ey" you nod. "So, you'll behave?" you nod again. "Good girl"

"Now, if it hurts, tell me and I'll stop"

Vander aligns himself up with your entrance, and with one deep motion, buries himself all the way to the hilt. It's almost as if he's forgotten his gentle side.

"Mphm-" you're about to scream, but his big hands cover your mouth.

"Bad girl" he tuts, "you promised"

Your back hurts, arching itself from the wood as you take all of his girth, walls squeezing him perfectly.

"Don't worry, the pain doesn't last long" he assures you, hips going back and forth softly. He picks up the pace, slowly but determined, seeing you have adjusted to his size already. "There. Take it, my girl"

He buries himself inside of you, body numb at his size and strident movements of his hips against you.

"Y-you're so b-big" you speak up for the first time in minutes, letting out another moan. "I can even feel you-"

You don't finish the sentence but the image is there, right infront of him. That only encourages him to fuck you harder, the thrusts now more brutal and violent.

"Tell me, where you feeling me?" you can't speak, so you point to your stomach. "Yeah? Filling you up so good you can't even speak?" then pounds you even harder. The pain is intense, but so is the pleasure, making you mumble more incoherences while even tears begin to well up in your eyes.

There is pressure on your lower belly, and it's not his bulge. No, you recognize it, despite having only felt it once: your orgasm is building up again. The furniture squeaks, looking like it will break under both of your weights combined, his thrusts now sloppier and messier. He was also close, grunting when your walls begin clenching around his dick.

"Fuck, Vander" you whimper out. "I think I love you"

Before he can register the weight of your words, thick ropes of cum fill up your pussy, his whole body shaking and finally succumbing to his age. He empties himself inside of you, your greedy cunt taking every drop. It's a fleeting second, but he remember Felicia, and the news she dropped that day. He thinks of a child with your eyes and his hair, the cruel world that awaits them but still can't let you waste any of his seed.

The room goes quiet as both of you try to even your breaths. After a while, your confession settles in.

"I don't think I love you" he gets down, kissing your nose gently. "I know I do. Can't deny that anymore"

The adoration on his eyes is so pure, you feel like crying again. The feelings you kept to yourself and left like crumbs for him to pick up through out this past days have finally transformed into something real. So real, your pussy still feels warm, just as your heart.

He easily carries your body on his strong arms, up to his room. You had never slept there before, and despite the numbness, you keep your eyes open, excited as a child.

"Good" you laugh, "because I was running out of ideas"

cr: divider @kodaswrld / gif @arcanegifs

[reidrum]

all yours if you want me | s.r

pairing: spencer reid x bau!fem!reader

a/n: i think i really like this but if i proofread it one more time im gonna hate it so im just putting it out now lol. this is the full version of the sneak peak i posted last week woohoo ! also this is my first time writing smut so im sorry if it sucks but i hope y'all like it <3

summary: bau's got their first day off in weeks, and you're heading straight to the club to have some fun, you just didn't expect your coworker/crush to also be there while you're trying to forget him.

cw: 18+ minors pls dni, smut, p in v (dont be silly wrap ur willy), munch!spence, lowkey softdom!spence, suggestive dancing in public spaces, minor insecure reader, reader is afab and wears a dress and heels

wc: 4.6k

pls let me know if i forgot anything and let me know your thoughts pleaseee xx

it was the first friday night off you and any of the team members of the bau had in a long time, and you all were determined to spend it well. jj and hotch immediately went home to their families, penelope and emily decided they were going home to get some well needed rest, rossi went to a cigar club, not really sure what derek and spencer ended up doing, but you knew what you were doing tonight.

you’d had a long standing invitation from one of your college friends for a club night, and at first you’d decline because you’d get swept away on a case, and because you were hopelessly pining after your hot nerdy coworker dr. spencer reid.

spencer was smart in many ways, three PhDs, countless published papers, not to mention that eidetic memory of his. there was one thing that spencer was just fucking dumb at, and it was your shameless flirting at him.

like it annoyed you how clueless he was. you’d bring him coffee in the mornings with hearts drawn on it, fall asleep on his shoulder on the jet rides back, even complimenting his outfit or looks which made him flustered, but still nothing. your harbored crush seemed to stay just that, a crush. and while you’d hope he would get the hint he just hasn’t.

so you pull out your phone to text your friend. 

“barry’s at 9?”

“oh my god FINALLY. i’m there i'll pick you up at 8:30.”

you grin to yourself, this was good. you needed to get out and unwind for once.

you drive home quickly to hop in the shower before your friend comes to get you. throwing on a silk slip dress as your outfit of choice, you slipped your heels on and met your friend in the car.

walking into the club, you’re met with the thumping bass of the music playing and the staunch smell of alcohol, sweat, and sex.

it made you think about the last time you got laid, which was a really long time ago. and honestly you wanted to sleep with spencer so bad you hadn’t been making advances elsewhere. but that was going to change tonight, you were determined to have good slutty fun, and hopefully get laid.

your friend grabbed your hand and beelined to the bar, ordering two tequila shots each. once you downed them you moved to the dance floor and started preying for a target. as you’re scanning the room, you notice a familiar looking mop of brown hair standing next to bald headed man. a combo you knew all too well.

-

derek morgan was a player. and before he’s a player, he’s a damn good friend. which was his reasoning for dragging spencer out of his apartment to come out to the club and have fun.

“but i can have fun at home by myself morgan.”

“kid, you need to let loose once in a while. you are young, i’m just helping you take advantage of it.”

-

so now spencer’s at the club (a sentence he still struggles to believe) wearing trousers and navy button down shirt to which morgan had popped the top buttons open because ‘it gives the ladies a sneak peek’. he just rolled his eyes and went with it. he’s nursing a shirley temple at the bar, perusing the environment when he comes across a pair of eyes he knows like the back of his hand.

when you recognize the amber eyes you couldn’t believe your luck. of course, on the one night you’d decided to explore other options he shows up in the least expected place for him to be. so much for getting over him, you think. shyly raising your hand to wave, spencer returns the gesture. morgan takes note, “who are you waving t- oh, pretty girl is here huh pretty boy?” he nudges him.

a blush raises on his face. spencer thought you were attractive, like really attractive. you were a great addition to the bau and he admired your work ethic a lot, the day you walked into the bullpen wearing a fitted pantsuit had his own pants growing real tight. he still remembers when you introduced yourself and he couldn’t even get up without exposing himself. you thankfully didn’t think it was weird, and spencer was relieved when it was finally time to go home. he’d be lying if he said he didn’t have nights where he wished you were the one finishing him off and not his rough hands. he didn’t think you’d like someone like him, and took all of your ‘advances’ as morgan calls them, as acts of kindness.

morgan laughs as he watches spencer’s iq deteriorate to below 50 staring at you, “do you what you gotta do man. but you better be going home with someone tonight okay?”

spencer nods and nurses his drink a bit and looks back to morgan to realize he’s already off dancing with some girls in the corner. damn.

after your distanced encounter with spencer, you decide it’s time to move on and have some fun on your own. you couldn’t be hung up on him anymore, at least not tonight. tonight was for bad decisions.

good thing bad decision walked up to you asking to dance, whatshisname leads you to the dance floor and puts his hands on your hips, swaying to the beats of t-pain and pitbull.

you didn’t know, but spencer was watching every move you made. he watched you get led to the dance floor, the way he placed his hands right on your ass and squeezed, and how he turned you around so you were dancing on his front with your back. he gripped his glass so tight the bartender had to tell him he’d have to pay if it breaks.

he gets it, you’re attractive. this is the kind of thing that happens to people who look like you. who wouldn’t want you? but then he watched it happen a second time. and a third. and a fourth and fifth, till he just stopped counting at nine for his sanity.

spencer was not used to the green monster taking over him, but oh god was he fucking seething with jealousy.

you realized spencer was watching you by whatshisname number five. he hadn’t moved from his spot and he was constantly staring in your direction. deciding to do a little experiment, you played up your dancing a lot more, acting more flirtatious, dragging the guy’s hands further down, and letting out open mouthed moans that you knew spencer couldn’t hear but could definitely see. you watched as his jaw shifted and his knuckles turned white as you danced with each guy, realizing the growing effect that you now had on him.

by whatshisname number nine, you casted your hook. making sure to face spencer and meet his eyes, you watched as they darkened when he realized you were looking right at him. spencer might’ve brushed it off as a coincidence, but then you winked at him. and he realized what you were doing—you were taunting him, and fuck was it working for him. the bulge in his pants grew uncomfortable that he had to stand up to not draw so much attention to it under the bar lights. 

you watched him stand up and adjust himself and you threw your line. when he looked back up at you, you made a come here motion with your index finger and a bite of your lip. spencer’s eyes darkened impossibly more, he paid for his tab and strode over to you.

sinker.

he pulled you from the man behind you, who muttered a ‘what the fuck’ and moved away. spencer pulled you flush to his chest and with a low voice in the crest of your ear he whispered, “what do you think you’re doing?”

“i don’t think i know what you’re talking about dr. reid, could you explain it to me?”

spencer tightens his hold on you and ghosts over your ear once more, “this is a dangerous game you’re playing, sweetheart.”

“a game you joined the second you walked over here.”

he looked at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes, and matched the small smirk on your lips. game on.

the song changed to something with a more sultry beat, and you used the opportunity to wrap your arms around his neck and let his hands guide your hips to the music. while he wasn’t much of a dancer, he could definitely keep a beat. it didn’t prove to be so difficult when your chest was pushing up on his own that he was just waiting for them to spill out. he realized he could feel your hardened nipples through your slip, the nubs rubbing friction through the fabric of their clothes. he moaned internally while he gripped your hips to pull you even closer. it was clear spencer seemed to be getting comfortable with moving your body and holding you close, but you couldn’t let that happen.

before the second chorus you turn around in his arms so your back is pressed up against his front, and you start dancing on him.

spencer’s taken by surprise, something you felt when his hands faltered the confident rhythm it kept up, and while he watched you dance just like this with all those guys it’s like his mind is blank now.

you recognize the song playing, collide by justine skye & tyga, and use the sultry beat to your advantage. you move your ass hard on his front, feeling his length pressed between your cheeks. you gesture for him to lean his head down and he lets out a low groan as you whisper in his ear, “all that for me?”.

a primal instinct starts to take over spencer’s being, and he grips your hips to meet his rutting from behind. spencer was desperate for any friction that could soothe the growing ache in his pants. you grinned as you felt take what he needed from you. it was quickly wiped off your face when you felt his hands inching dangerously close to where you really wanted him.  you place your hands on his with surprise and look at him, “what are you doing?”

“i don’t think i know what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he threw back at you, “but if there’s something you’d like me to do, i’m all ears.” spencer grazes his fingers under the hem of your dress, toying with the lace band of your panties and slipping his fingers below it to stroke your inner thighs.

fuck. he turned it on you so fast it almost gave you whiplash. the provocative dancing was something you could handle, hell everyone on that dance floor was doing the same thing as you both. what you weren’t sure you could handle was him about to touch you in a public space. but, your body betrayed you as it turned you on to another plane. you look up at him with lust filled eyes and let out a breathy moan of his name. spencer collapses internally and stands his ground, “if you want something, beg me.”

spencer thinks he’s won the upper hand, and he’s feeling so smug behind you. he still thinks he has the upper hand until you reach down and place his middle and index finger in your mouth, circling your tongue around the digits.

“touch me.” you moan out, releasing his fingers.

spencer is dumbfounded how he’s the one about to burst out his pants when he made you beg for him. it should make him feel embarrassed at how close he was, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. not when you in his arms pleading him to do something. you sounded so pretty, and who was he to deny a pretty thing like you?

his fingers continue their journey down, outlining the lace trim resting on your thighs. he hooks his fingers on the fabric to pull it aside and slips into you, going at an aching pace to gather the wetness and groaning out, “jesus, you’re so wet, was this all for me? you needed my attention that bad, baby?”

you whimper and grip his hand even tighter because you’re not sure if your legs are holding out any longer. it’s all so overwhelming—having his hands down your panties in the middle of the dance floor, the lewdity of the noises in your ear, the hard length pressing desperately on your ass. this is all you’ve ever wanted from him, to want you. and now it’s happening, and your brain can’t fire the neurons fast enough to process the moment. instead your body responded with your skin heating up with anticipation, heart beating out as much adrenaline to keep up. the daze is getting foggier by the second as he trails his fingers up and down your slit, spreading the wetness and circling your clit on the way up. and you think you’re about to get accustomed to the pace he’s set, when he delves between your folds and you moan out loud so abruptly that the nearby patrons looked around wondering where it came from.

you can feel spencer’s shit eating grin behind you as he moves his head down to leave love bites on your neck. if he can feel your bluff dissipating, he’s not saying anything. his fingers set a painfully slow rhythm, and you grind down trying to get any more friction to reach your peak. he’s hitting you in all the right spots that make you see the stars and beyond, leaning your head back on his chest as you barrel towards your climax. you feel yourself mere seconds away from reaching, and spencer suddenly pulls his fingers out, making you whine out in protest, “wh- what are you doing?”

spencer grabs your wrist and starts dragging you through the sweaty bodies surrounding you, tightening his grip with a small smirk as he passes a few of the guys you were dancing with earlier. suckers.

he pushes the doors open with a force and while the cool air is attempting to return your body to homeostasis, the anticipation of where he’s going overtakes you, “spence, where are we going wh-“ you cut off your sentence with a gasp as he handles you flush to the door of his car. then it’s just silence for a few moments. no loud bass or weird dudes, just the two of you. the only sound that can be heard are your breaths competing for prominence. you look up at him and focus on the details of his face illuminated by the moonlight, trying to read his expression. his honeyed eyes have fully darkened to a lustful hickory, and suddenly you felt like a gazelle being preyed on by a lion.

he reaches into his pocket and unlocks the car with a soft beep. it’s the focused eyes on you that drive you to open the door, but it’s the subtle silent nod of his head towards the car that makes you move inside waiting for him to join you. he climbs in after you, shutting the door and locking it.

spencer moves to the middle seat and allows his legs to spread open, he taps his thighs and faintly says, “come here.”

you shuffle closer and swing your legs over him, your dress rising up a little as you fully sit on his clothed crotch. and now you realize the corporeality of the moment. it’s like, really real now. all this time pining after the boy genius with no luck and now he’s got you in the backseat of his car and your panties crooked, waiting for you to move. the bravado you wore and so tightly held onto for a majority of the night comes crashing down like a shattered vase, and you’re not sure if you have any more in you to salvage the pieces. you may be a profiler, but try as you might you are not a mind reader, yet you so desperately want to know what he’s thinking. is it too much to ask what this means? will it overwhelm him to say you’ve dreamt about this moment for many nights, and how those dreams went on till the early morning when he’d stay and brush your hair back with a temple kiss. the whispers of sweet nothings sticking to you like honey as you got ready for the day. are these questions you even want to know the answer to?

you may not be a mind reader, but he is dr. spencer reid, who noticed your demeanor change after too long of a silence.

“hey,” he holds your chin delicately to your eyes, “it’s okay if you want to stop, i’m sorry for tak-“

it’s your turn to cut him off, “no! no i, i still want this, i just,” you falter.

“just what, baby?” he coos softly.

it makes tears well up in your eyes, you hope he can’t see them, “i’ve just wanted this for so long, and it’s probably embarrassing that i’m admitting this now of all times, but i don’t know if i can handle this meaning more to me than it does to you.” you confess quietly.

spencer listens to your admission and gingerly resecures his arm behind you, a position he thinks is starting to become second nature. he rubs soft shapes into the small of your back, “what makes you think that?”

“because i basically threw myself at you tonight, and it seems to be the first time you noticed me.” you say halfheartedly. 

“you think i don’t notice you?” he whispers, leaning in to leave soft kisses in the crook of your neck. spencer is dumbfounded, confused at how you reached such a conclusion. but as a man of science, he feels there’s only one way to prove himself. he breathes your name out, “can i show you how much i notice you? please?”

you nod, at least you could commit this moment to memory if it was all you’d have left of him. he presses his lips to yours for the first time that night, your breath faltering as he becomes more feverous with his attacks. slotting his tongue with yours, your hands move up to his silky hair to take purchase in. he lets out a groan as he pulls back from you, “i need to taste you.”

he guides your body to lean back on the center console, the only way his tall figure would be able to accommodate this position. your legs are still split on either side of his legs, using your hands to prop yourself up to watch his movements. he hooks his fingers on the sides of your panties and slowly slides them down, moaning at the way your slick causes resistance as he pulls them off your legs. wrapping his arms under your thighs to lift you up to face level, he places small kisses on your inner thighs as he makes his way to your core. he places a final kiss on your center before licking a long stripe up to your clit. moaning out wantonly, he continues his ministrations and kitten licks all over you, circling back up to your clit after each round.

“spence..” you whine out. he moves his focus to your clit, circling and sucking till you’re squirming in his arms so much has to grip your thighs. your hands are fussing through his hair, gripping and pulling to find something to ground you. spencer then slips his fingers into your core for the second time tonight, and you lose it.

he’s pumping his fingers in and out, that all you can hear is the squelching noises of your cunt. adding another one, you’re unable to stay still anymore, as if you were before.

“oh my fuck, spencer. i’m gonna cu-, cum. please don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.” you moan out filthy.

spencer unlatches his mouth for a moment, “come for me, baby.”

your orgasm crashes down on you like a wave breaking on the shore. it’s all consuming, leaving you shaking and breathless and he lifts his head from between your legs and you see his chin glistening with you in the moonlight. the sight itself is so pornographic, you can’t help but shuffle back onto his lap to crash your lips back to his, tasting yourself on his tongue. he tangles his hands in your hair as you move yours between you both, unzipping his trousers to palm him through his boxers.

he breakily moans in your ear as you slowly pull back the band to take him out. the sight takes you by surprise, you knew he was big, you felt it on your ass while you were dancing. but seeing how it compared to your hand had you bulging your eyes.

“you’re so big,” you whisper. how the hell was that fitting inside of you?

spencer the mind reader places his hand on top of yours as you lazily stroke him, “we’ll go slow, don’t worry.” he can’t help but feel his ego inflate to the skies, he can’t remember the last time he had someone look intimidated by him.

nodding faintly, you gather the spit in your mouth and let it fall between you both to land on the flushed pink tip. you spread it up and down his length, setting a slow pace that had him moaning expletives in your ear.

“oh-, ohhh, fuck baby. you’re so good at that holy shit,” he says trying to hold himself together. you give him a few more pumps before lifting your hips up to guide him inside you. you move his tip to your entrance, rubbing it teasingly before spencer places his hands on your sides to stabilize you, and slowly sink you down onto him.

the second his tip pushes past your folds, you both moan out in harmony. placing your hands on his shoulders you leverage yourself to sink down further inch by inch, until your core is flush with the base of his thighs.

spencer is a man of many words, maybe too many. but right now the only word he can remember is your name as he watched you take his length whole inch by inch slowly losing any restraint he had left. the pressure his cock had inside of you was heavenly. you’d never felt so full, and you could tell he was trying so hard to stay still as you adjusted above him.

when you bottom out spencer throws his head back against the seat, “oh that’s it, good girl,” you clenched around him. “you okay?”

you nod in response, ignoring the way the term of endearment sent flutters to your heart, and attempt an experimental rock of your hips, causing spencer’s head to whip up and meet your lust blown eyes with his own. he adjusts his hands on the sides of your thighs and starts helping you move up and down on his length, setting a brutally slow pace.

you rest your head and moan into the crook of his neck as he continues his movements, “spencer, please, more, i can take it.”

he still can’t believe what’s happening right now, all those days he spent thinking about you in the bullpen, at home, everywhere really, and here you were begging on top of him to fuck you good.

“you still think i don’t notice you?” he says into your ear, “i have dreamt about what you’d look like bouncing on my cock, and you are blowing any idea i had out of the water.”

you whimper as he continues, “and when i’m not thinking about ruining you, i am in awe at how you walk through life. you bring so much joy everywhere you go, it’s a blessing to be able to experience you.” he says through shaky breaths.

the praise goes straight to core, with some traveling to your heart again, and you’re not sure how much longer you can hold on before you unravel physically and emotionally.

his hands are guiding you up and down at a harder pace now, “so,” thrust. “you still think,” thrust, “i don’t notice you?” he thrusts into you once more and holds you down, making sure you’re looking directly at him, “it was never an option to brush past you, you are everything to me. i didn’t know how to show that without overwhelming you. i’m sorry.”

tears well up in your eyes again, spencer notices this time and presses a small kiss on your forehead. all your senses feel like they’re in overdrive, unable to comprehend anything right now. your skin feels like it’s on fire as he rolls your hips faster to meet his ruts.

“spence, i- i’m so close.” you whine desperately. 

he slips his hand between you both to rub your clit, “i know baby, i’ve got you. let go for me.”

his words were enough to break the dam, your second climax of the night hurling towards you. the white hot feeling overtook your whole body, shaking and clenching above him. your grip on him was threateningly vicious, probably leaving deep crescent marks in the nape of his shoulders. you wish the euphoria would last forever if it meant having spencer like this. as you came down from your high, the two of you were still moving together, slowly rocking your hips to meet each other. once you were grounded again, you pushed through the sensitivity in your core to rise up on his length, just barely leaving the tip in before you slid back down fast and hard, now focusing on spencer reaching his peak.

“oh jesus, fuck.” spencer moaned out brokenly.

“come on spence you can do it,” you taunted as you clenched down, “come inside me, make a mess of me please.” a rush of confidence flowed through as you whispered into his ear, and spencer held your hips to help you bounce faster on him.

spencer let out a loud groan as you felt the hot spurts coat your insides, he was leaving matching crescent marks on the sides of your hips as the ones on his shoulders, making sure all of him was left in you. feeling him soften inside, you remained on his lap with him sheathed in you. you both are breathing heavily, leaning back to hopefully give you both some relief from the sex filled air. looking around the car you realize that all the windows are fogged up and let out a tiny giggle.

“what’s so funny?” he looks up at you slightly amused and very out of breath.

“no it’s just, the windows are such a dead giveaway for what we just did in here.” 

“eh, i don’t really care what people think.”

“gasp, dr. reid wants to let the world know he has car sex with random girls?”

he leans in to bite your neck playfully, “random? did nothing i said during all that register for you?”

you yelp and attempt to play dumb, “actually i don’t remember a word, you might have to jog my memory. maybe even recreate the circumstances to help with cementing it. i read about situational memorization where certain scenarios are easily remembered when there’s a big event to anchor it to.”

he swears he could’ve melted on the spot at you explaining a concept you’d read about to him, “careful sweetheart, calling it a big event might inflate my ego a little too high.”

“i mean, i can tell it worked,” you tease as you feel him harden inside of you again, “so tell me genius, how many times does a scenario have to happen for me to remember the information?”

“i guess we’ll have to find out, don’t we?”

[star-whores-a-new-hoe]

The Comfort of Strangers //Padawan! Obi-Wan X Fem! Reader

A/N: Well...Hi! I haven't written in two years! I'll post a little update soon but I was INCREDIBLY horny inspired after seeing the Phantom Menace in theaters! Hope you enjoy this lil smutty Padawn Obi fic!

Summary: You and all of Queen Amidala's handmaidens are stuck on Tatooine waiting for Qui Gon to get the hyperdrive parts you need. With all the stress and anxiety of escaping Naboo, the good-looking Palawan stuck on the ship with you looks like a good distraction.

Warnings VERY IMPORTANT: I know Padme and her handmaidens are pretty young, but for the purposes of this story READER IS OVER 18!!!!! That being said, this fic contains, smut, kinda a hookup, using sex with a stranger as comfort, risk of being caught, P in V action, unprotected sex, pull-out method, handy, some finger-banging action, dirty talk, some implied Qui Gon x Reader x Obi-Wan action for a minute there oop, and probably some spelling and grammar mistakes!

Word Count: 2.8 K

With the whirlwind of events that was the invasion of Naboo, one would think that boredom would bring some welcome relief. They would be sorely mistaken. 

The rush of adrenaline that had flooded your veins as you and the other handmaidens frantically dressed sabé, hands, and hearts a flurry, before chasing you up the ramp of the starfighter with gunfire at your back had finally subsided. Now, with the monotonous heat of Tatooine creeping into the ship, there was nothing but dull numbness left. 

Padme had left over a day ago to experience this strange outer-rim world you all had landed on. That left the rest of you with nothing to do but worry. Senator Vancil regularly sent updates urging Queen Amidala to contact him. Each of his messages was more dire than the last. News of your people in camps, starving, dying, surrounded by those damned battle droids, those disgusting Numoidions watching gleefully from the high walls of the Theed palace. 

You could practically feel all of the handmaidens' hearts sink in tandem with each new update. That young Jedi, Obi-Wan, simply reminded the Queen, (or who he figured to be the queen) to send no reply. Had he no empathy?! Obviously, none of you were dumb enough to risk the safety of your mission, the safety of your people, in transmitting any kind of message but could he not for a moment let down his Jedi knight persona and give you all some grace?

Jedi learner actually, I suppose. You thought to yourself. Curled up in an out-of-the-way nook, the hood of your orange handmaiden dress hung limply down your back. Normally you were grateful for the thick velvet robes in space, but even with the ship's cooling systems still online it seemed that they were no match for Tatooine. The oppressive heat sat thickly in the stale air, leaving everyone on board anxious and irritable. 

You couldn't lie to yourself. Between your fear and anxiety, the sight of that young padawan was a welcome distraction. You were positive you weren't the only one who thought so, you had definitely caught your fellow handmaiden's eyes flick over him from under their hoods. There was just something about him. Maybe it was the cocky banter he had shared with his master, even in the flurry of battle, or maybe it was the way the collar of his Jedi robes opened just enough for you to want to see more. Or perhaps it was the way you could imagine tugging on that padawan braid as- 

“Oh, apologies, I didn't realize there was anyone back here.”

You start, ripped from your thoughts by the man himself. He stood, palm braced against the doorway to your little hideaway. He’d discarded his Jedi cloak, leaving him the tan robes. 

“Sorry,” You say sheepishly. “Just…taking a breather.” Truth be told, in a ship this size there wasn't much space for ‘breathers.’ There's a beat of awkward silence before he clears his throat. 

“I assumed you would be with your queen and fellow Handmaidens in the royal quarters.” You resist the urge to scoff. Little did he know your queen was off in the deserts of Tatooine. 

“I think we’re all just processing that last message from the senator. I just needed a moment to myself I guess.” He gives you a tight-lipped smile.

“I’ll leave you to it then.” He turns to walk away and you scramble for anything to keep the conversation going. 

“What’s it like being a Jedi?” You cringe at the question. He looks back over his shoulder at you. 

“Well, Padawan.” He corrects, sheepishly.

“Right, yes. What’s it like to be a Padawan?” He turned to face you full-on, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorway. 

“It’s a life of service and peace.” He says simply. “I am devoted to the service of the Republic and the force.” You hum in response. 

“What’s it like being a handmaiden?” He asks, a teasing edge in his voice. From this angle, with you still curled up on the floor, he towers over you, looking down at you with a seductive smirk that makes your stomach do cartwheels. 

“It’s a life of service and peace.” You repeat. “I am devoted to my queen, my people, and my planet.” 

“My, my, sounds like we have quite a few similarities.” You crack a weak smile. 

“Why not take a seat?” You offer, motioning towards the cramped bit of floor in front of you. “I highly doubt you have anything better to do.” He raises an eyebrow at you before obliging. “You must live in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, right?” You ask as he squeezes into the cramped space, his knees knocking against yours. 

“Indeed, Coruscant has been my home for as long as I can remember.” 

“I've always wanted to see Coruscant. My family went when I was very small but I don’t remember it. I always meant to visit. I just never thought it would be under such…dire circumstances.” There's another beat of silence. 

“How are you and the others fairing?” You pause, debating your response. None of you had discussed it with each other. Your grief was so profound, deep, and shared in the way only sisters know. There had been no need to speak of it. But perhaps voicing it would help. 

“I think this is going to be the hardest part. At least I, we, were all doing something by escaping the planet, almost getting shot down. But this, just waiting… maker it’s eating me alive.” He nodded solemnly. 

“I understand.” 

“Do you?” It’s not meant to be a cruel question, but definitely a pointed one. “I thought Jedi didn't do emotions?” 

“Jedi don’t do attachments. We are encouraged to feel emotions, they bring us closer to the force, closer to all the living things around us.” Maker, you wanted him closer. 

A part of you hated yourself for wanting distraction, for seeing the first person in front of you, and wanting to find that special kind of escape and comfort. But a bigger part of you craved the young man in front of you, the release from this monotonous boredom and anxiety. 

“And what about…entanglements?” You purposefully tap your knee against his, letting a sultry gaze flood your eyes. He straightened slightly, his quizzical gaze raking you over. 

“Is that really what you want?” His question wasn't accusative or disgusted but genuinely curious, soft, and gentle. The seductive fire in your eyes dies down slightly. Your eyes flick down to the floor.

“Is that so bad?” It comes out barely louder than a whisper. A gentle hand lifts your chin till your gaze meets baby blue eyes, nearly the same shade as the lightsaber you watched him wield earlier. Oh how his hands had moved with such skill and grace, you couldn't help but imagine how those calloused, practiced hands would feel running over your body. Obi-wan smiled. 

“If that's what you feel, then it’s not bad at all.” Abruptly he pulled back, the sensation of him leaving your bubble had you feeling cold even in the burning ship. “Yes, Jedi are allowed to have entanglements.” 

“Oh.” you flash him a sly grin, confidence slowly seeping into you. “Good to know.” 

“Indeed.” His eyes bore into yours, the tension between the two of you was electric.

“Well if you ask me,” You say, placing a hand on his knee. “We have quite some time to kill before your Master gets back with the parts we need, don’t you think?” Obi-Wan’s hand came up to play with the hem of your skirt. 

“I’d be inclined to agree.” 

“Why don't we kill some time then? Hmm?” Obi-Wan’s face lights up in a devilish smirk as his hands glide up to your waist.

“Doesn't sound like a bad idea to me.” 

You lean forward, a soft smile on your lips that matches his before the young Jedi captures your mouth with his. It’s not the quick frantic touches one would expect of a hidden tryst. It’s soft and comforting like you both know you need the solace of another, the soothing touches of a lover not the hard and fast pace of a quick fuck. 

You sigh against him, melting into his touch. Your hands slide over the expanse of his broad chest up to rest on his shoulders. One of Obi-Wan’s hands slides up over your spine, sending shivers through your body before he tenderly cradles your neck. His tongue teases the seal of your lips and you gladly let him in, pulling yourself closer to him as his tongue explores your mouth. 

Pulling you fully into his lap, you can feel the bulge in his pants press against you. Simply the thought of it makes you wet. You grind your hips against him testingly and he hums his encouragement. One of Obi-Wan’s hands moves to your knee. Ever so delicately he slides his hand upwards over your thigh, the hem of your dress pulled ever upwards with his movements. His hand resting on the bare skin of your upper thigh, he gently moves you to grind against him again. 

As you rut against him, Obi-Wan’s lips leave yours to place open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, down the expanse of your neck, and over the limited bit of collarbone exposed by your dress. You expose your neck to him with a sigh, letting your head fall back into the reassuring weight of his hand cradling your head. 

This was it. What you so desperately needed. The reassuring touches of another that sent electric currents through your body. The safety of being held in someone's arms. Here, in this little nook with Obi-Wan, even if it was for just a moment, was paradise. 

Your hands sneak their way between the two of your bodies. Reaching for his hand that gripped the pillowy flesh of your thigh, you guide him to rest it on your breast. Taking the queue, Obi-Wan gives your tit a gentle squeeze, smoothing his thumb in little circles over the fabric right where he knows your nipple is. 

You practically whine at the sensation, grinding against him even harder. Your hand comes to rest on his crotch. 

“Help me take these off?” Your voice comes out much more sultry than you expected. He flashes you a smile that makes your heartache. 

“Why of course.” Together, you work him out of his trousers so that his erection stands tall and proud, a tiny bit of pre cum already beading at his tip. Your mouth waters at the sight. Without another thought, you spit in your hand before reaching down to grasp the base of him. He sighs at the contact and without missing a beat you begin to slowly move your hand over the length of him. 

“Is that alright?” You ask, his hands slowly wandering over your thighs, ever closer to where you crave him. 

“A-a little harder if you don't mind darling.” A part of you swoons at the pet name, and a bigger part of you smirks at making such a fine, confident man stutter. 

You oblige, squeezing a bit tighter as you work his length and Obi-Wan throws his head back in bliss. 

“Oh yes, just like that.” Seeing an opportunity in front of you, you lean forward to kiss his exposed neck, his padawan braid tickling your nose. A small blush creeps up his neck and over his cheeks as you continue to pleasure him with your hand. 

Obi-Wan’s wandering hands finally reach under the skirts of your dress, his fingers dragging along the center of you, feeling the wetness that undoubtedly stains your undergarments. 

“Oh my, all this for me?” He teases.

“Just shut up and touch me please.” You groan. Obi-wan places a sweet peak to your cheek.

“How could I say no to someone as lovely as you?” If you weren't flushed before that comment certainly did it. His hands push aside your drenched undergarment, letting two of his fingers leave teasing touches across you, never once letting them brush your aching clit. 

“If I’d known you'd be such a tease I would have approached that master of yours.” You tease. Obi-Wan scoffs. 

“I’m not a tease, you’re just impatient.” He replies slightly breathlessly. “Besides,” He adds finally drawing little circles in your clit. He leans in close to whisper in your ear. “You must be very naive to think Qui Gon Jinn wouldn't be a merciless fuck.” 

For a brief moment, the thought of both of them pleasuring you enters your mind. The older Jedi taking you from behind while he instructs his learner on how to fuck your throat. You’re pulled from your thoughts by Obi-Wan capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, rougher than the last, full of need and lust. 

“Obi-Wan,” You pant breathlessly, pulling away from his kiss. “Fuck me.” He groans, taking his cock in his hand to line it up against your entrance. You shimmy forward, knees on either side of him before sinking down. 

You both sigh in unison, inch after glorious inch fills you up, stretching you out perfectly. He’s barely inside of you before you start moving, grasping his shoulder to help lift yourself on and off his cock. He grasps your waist, helping you move as you work yourself open on him. 

the two of you build up a steady rhythm, it’s all you can do to bite your lip and keep from your moans of delight escaping the room. Obi-Wan hits a certain spot inside of you that sends a sudden gasp from your lips. His hand quickly reaches up to cover your mouth.

“Careful now, wouldn't want the other handmaidens hearing, would we?” You whine quietly in agreement. He smirks. “Think you can handle yourself without me keeping you quiet?” You nod eagerly. “That's what we like to hear.” He practically coos, his hand leaving your mouth to work at your clit, heightening your pleasure tenfold.  

Every stroke of his cock inside of you leaves you a bigger mess than the last. You grind against him desperately, hungry for every touch, every current of pleasure he sends through your body, every sensation that takes you further and further from the predicament you’re currently stuck in. Everything was building up, threatening to spill over at any second. 

“M-make, I won't last muc-ch longer.” Obi-Wan sighs. His movements on your clit are frantic, his thrusts sloppy like that of a man on the edge. “Please, need you to cum for me.” He practically begs. He slots his head between your neck and shoulder, his teeth nipping at your earlobe. “Need to feel you come around my cock.” 

He hits the perfect spot inside you as he whispers his filthy words in your ear, sending you right over the edge. Wave after wave of pleasure courses through your body, your cunt squeezing him like a vice, his ministrations on your clit never ceasing. 

“Oh yes, just like that.” He works you through your orgasm, not even ceasing as you slump against him. It’s only when you push his hand away from your overstimulated pussy that he ceases. Reluctantly, you move yourself off of his cock, taking him in your hand and watching with immense satisfaction as he falls apart, spilling his seed over your thighs. 

You both sigh, sweat beading both your brows and the air between you hot and heavy with a mixture of your previous actions and the stale Tatooine air. 

Swallowing dryly you break the silence. “Thank you.” 

“Sincerely my lady, the pleasure was all mine.” He nods to the evidence of such on your thighs which raises a chuckle from you. You produce a handkerchief from a tucked-away pocket and start cleaning his cum from your thighs. 

A content quite settles over the two of you as you tidy up, helping each other straighten your clothing. As you tuck Obi-Wan’s padawan braid behind his ear, the high-pitched beep of a comlink interprets the tender moment. 

“Obi-Wan, are you there?” His Master’s voice sounds through the device on Obi-Wan’s belt. He gives your hand a slight squeeze as he picks up the com with the other. 

“Yes Master, any luck acquiring the part for the hyperdrive?” 

“I'm afraid the situation has grown more...complicated.” Obi-Wan sighs. 

“Why do I sense that we’ve picked up yet another pathetic life form?” Obi-Wan casts you an apologetic glance as his master continues. Tucking your hair back into your hood, you give him a small smile and nod for him to go. With a soft smile of his own in return, he turns toward to cockpit, the comlink in his hand updating him on the situation. 

With a sigh, you turn and walk back toward the quarters where you know the others will be. The dull ache of the tragic events around you was still present, but somewhat subdued thankfully. Who knew you could find so much comfort in strangers? 

Taglist:@rentskenobi @mysteryofkokoro @highpriestessrebek @sarapixieelliott08 @princessxkenobi @dexthtoyounglings @book-hoardingdragon​ @cosmic-rich​ @laserbrains @hugmekenobi @penfullofwordsaheadfullofstories @profkenobi

[xhoneygirlxx]

Love To See Me From Your POV

rockstar! Eddie Munson x wife! reader

summary: Seeing Eddie on the road for the first time should be an exciting moment but when your insecurities rise, you wonder if this is the life you were cut out for.

warnings: angst. reader is insecure: mentions of self hatred and low self-esteem. Eddie and Reader are both in their twenties! Rockstar Eddie. Eddie does call groupies gross. mentions of rough marriage. Eddie and reader fight! slight cheating accusations. fluff. Eddie is the sweetest husband, reader and Eddie being in love and cute. Smut 18+ Only, Minors DNI!! : mentions of sex with groupies, p in v (unprotected), cream pie, slight breeding kink, slight dom/sub, body worship/praise, oral receiving (reader), fingering, squirting. shit writing and bad grammar. Not proofread!!!!

If I missed any please let me know! *

a/n: Hello my loves, I got a request from @kellyxo1 for this little thingy right here! I hope this is okay and I hope you enjoy! Thank you all again for being so wonderful and lovely to me :) And remember if you ever want to request something, you're more than welcome!

There isn't a booklet on what to do and what not to do when you get married, and there's definitely not a booklet on how to be a rockstar's wife. Married life in itself is a difficult task, but learning the ropes of being married while also dealing with the life of fame was something you or Eddie was prepared for.

Getting married right after Eddie's third senior year was always the plan, two young and dumb freshmen solidifying it with hooked pinkies. Obviously you loved one another more than life itself, but going through the motions of being married at the ripe age of 20 is harder than any fairytale make it out to seem.

It was hard that first year, constantly worried about bills, overtired from working long shifts to pay said bills, and just learning how to live with one another. But in between all the hardships, there were small moments where both of you remembered what it was all about. Eating thirty cent noodles, decorating for holidays, the quiet Sunday mornings where you'd get tangled under bed sheets. The love that both of you hold for one another drowning out every other shitty thing around you.

The second and third year, your whole world flipped upside down. After getting lucky and getting picked up by a big record label, Corroded Coffin was now the hottest new band on the market. You remember the day the boys got signed, how most of them shed a tear of happiness, and how happy your husband looked. A moment in time that was now frozen in a picture that hung on your fridge.

You were so proud of the boys, watching them go from a crowd of seven drunks to recording their own album. There was something so special about being there with your husband for every step, cheering him on from the sidelines every time. When the album finally dropped and the number of sales went up, Eddie surprised you with the keys to the little house on Deer Run Road, the same one that the two of you always fantasied about owning.

Although he worked mostly in LA, he told you he planned on staying in Hawkins where he could still get privacy while being close to the people he loved. You also loved it because you wouldn't have to leave your job at the daycare and your husband would always come home to you.

Now on year four, you were the loneliest you've ever been. Between touring, recording, and everything that comes with being in a band, Eddie has barely home. You can't be mad at him though, he's following his dream all while providing a wonderful life for you. Of course there are nights you'd rather have him in bed with you, reading that old torn copy of Lord of The Rings rather than a phone call, but you're just glad he even has the time and energy to do so.

It was hard for the both of you, many times the two of you cried together, confessing the horrible ache that nestled itself in your hearts. You felt terrible, never being able to visit him because your schedule didn't line up with his. That's when you decided you were going to take a week off, fly to whatever city he was in, and surprise him.

With the help of Steve, who pretty much taught you the in's and out's of flying, and the band's personal assistant, you were able to buy a ticket to New York where CC would be performing their final show. That night when Eddie called you, you were buzzing with excitement and it killed you not being able to tell him.

On the way to Eddie's hotel was nerve racking. What would he think of you? Will he like how you changed your hair? Will he be shocked with how much I changed? You wondered how different he looked since the last time he saw you, the only way you got to see him was through your tv or on a cover of a magazine, and you never know how accurate those things can be.

__

Standing in front of his hotel room was daunting, blood rushing to your ears as your anxiety reached a whole new level. It felt like you never met him before, like he hasn't seen every single part of you or known you since he was a young man. The shakiness of your hands were only getting worse the longer you sat there, you decide it was now or never.

Raising one hand to the peephole, blocking it with your finger so he wouldn't be able to see, you use the other hand to knock on the heavy door.

"Housekeeping!" You disguise your voice the best way you can, making it high pitched and nasally.

Knocking once more, you cringe when you do it harder than before, remembering that he's probably tired from all the travel he's been through.

"Housekeeping!!" Still using the fake voice, trying to soften the blow of your heavy hand you sing the last little bit of the word.

From behind the door you can hear shuffling, yet there was no footsteps heard.

Raising your fist once more, you knock again and this time you can hear him shout something back.

"GO AWAY!" It comes muffled through the door that separates the two of you.

"Good morning, it's housekeeping!!" you cover your mouth with you hand trying to stifle the giggle that fall from your lips, knowing your husband is probably cursing to himself in anger.

Eddie's heavy footsteps and huffing are the only things coming from the room, then the door is being swung open causing the land that was leaning on it to fall dramatically.

In front of you is the man you married, hair messy from sleep, plaid pj pants hanging low on his hips, and bare chest on display. He looked so pretty, rubbing his closed eyes with the palm of his hands, pink lips jutting out in a pout, and puffy cheeks.

"I already told you to go the f-" Cracking one of his eyes open to adjust to the harsh light of the hallway, he finally sees you.

"Baby?" His raspy voice in a whisper, like he's questioning if you're real or not. Tired eyes that were once too heavy to open are now bulging out of his head, cartoonish and wild.

"Hi, Teddy." You whisper back, a saccharine smile breaking out on your face.

The air that once lived in your lungs are quickly punched out the moment he lunges towards you, gripping you up and twirling you around. In the middle of a swanky New York hotel, the two of you hold on each other, squeezing tightly to make sure that neither of you will float away in the clouds of a realistic dream.

"My baby, my beautiful girl," You hear it before you see it, the thickness of his sleepy voice does nothing to hide the shakiness. The tears of mourning you, fall from his eyes hitting the exposed part of your neck where he finds solace.

"I'm here, Teddy. I'm here." The dam you've built to hold back your own tears, has finally busted open. The tears of long nights and a cold bed fall onto his warm skin, the one thing you wished to feel once more.

Moving apart slightly, big brown eyes finally meet your own, taking in the imagine of the people they love the most. Teary eyes and stuffy noses, wobbling lips and heavy breathing, two souls reuniting after too much time away from each other.

Planting his forehead to yours, you bask in the feeling of being close. Eddie's warm lips touch yours, a sweet and tear soaked kiss makes you melt.

"I missed you so much, angel." He confesses, the warmth of his breath mixing with your own.

"I know the feeling." You joke and the both of your share a laugh.

"You know," he whispers, forehead still touching your own, "I want to be mad that I'm up at the ass crack of dawn, but you're such a beautiful sight to be woken up to." A gooey smile spreads on his lips and like a yawn, you mimic his actions.

"So you're not interested in housecleaning services this early in the morning?" You question and he snorts at your bad attempt of a joke.

"Angel, you know me better than that." He says and you roll your eyes.

"Now," Eddie lets you down gently, your feet returning to the carpeted floor. "If you don't mind, I would love nothing more than to fall asleep with the sexiest woman in the world."

Leading you into his room, he proves his point by slapping your ass hard. When you turn around to chastise him, you're met with him biting his bottom lip and his gaze still on your ass.

"Oh yeah, I'm gonna have so much fun with you." The morning rasp in his voice is replaced with a husky, lust soaked hunger.

Tossing you, lovingly, on the bed, Eddie pounces on you like a tiger. Attacking you with kisses, you try to push him off as best as you can, weak from all your laughter.

"Teddy, I still have to shower!" You shout causing him to pause over you. Catching your breath, you run your hand up and down his arm softly. "I still have yucky airport on me."

Eddie leans down and licks your cheek and you wrinkle your nose in disgust. "Oh yeah, that's my favorite flavor."

"You're such a dork." You tell him and he only smiles bigger down at you.

"Yeah but I'm your dork, Mrs. Munson."

__

The morning was spent with discovering each other again, not just physically but emotionally. You update him on the kids at your daycare and new Hawkins drama, while he tells you about the antics the boys have gotten into and all the cool stories from this tour.

You missed it, the simplicity of marriage. Even through all the time spent apart is torture, you still find the beauty in the small moments. Like the thirty cent noodles, you enjoy the peace and comfort of whispers passed back and forth a room that isn't your own.

All the bliss you felt from this morning has now been flushed out, now replaced with the roaring waters of doubt. You watch your husband on stage, singing songs he wrote, like you did way back when. This time the crowd isn't just drunk bar patrons, it's beautiful woman screaming his name.

They're all perfect, tiny bodies and big breasts, full hair and flawless makeup. They're everything you're not, everything you never will be. This was the one part of the job you never read about in your how to guide. This was the one thing you forgot to teach yourself about, how to handle millions of woman fawning over your man.

You weren't naïve of course, you knew that the guys had groupies, but you liked to push that into the back of your mind. You trusted Eddie more than anything, you knew he would never do anything to ruin your marriage, but that wasn't the part that had you so upset.

It was the idea of not being good enough that was eating away at you. Like everyone else in the world, you had insecurities. You went through stages with your self consciousness, earning a few battle wounds to your confidence along the way, but over time you became comfortable in your own skin.

This wasn't Hawkins though, this was the big city, and your "small town pretty" is no good here. All of the woman here could chew you up and spit you out, beating you out by miles in a beauty contest.

Your self hatred starts to write over the happy memory of watching Eddie on the biggest stage you've ever seen. Embarrassment fills your body, numbing you from head to toe. You feel so stupid, the clothes you wear are nothing compared to what they wear, you probably look like a clown in the makeup on your face, and your hair is probably flat and dull now.

This wasn't what you signed up for, this isn't in the job description when you sign on to be a rockstar’s wife. You already have to worry about the safety of not only your husband but the rest of the boys too. You worry about Eddie and if he's eating enough, if he's getting enough sleep, and if he's taking care of himself. There is already so much on your plate and you don't think you can handle worrying about the fact that you're not good enough.

The wave of guilt hits you when you look back over to your husband. His beauty is powerful, sometimes it makes you want to cry how pretty he is, and you know deep down he deserves better. Rockstar Eddie Munson deserves a girl that looks like one of them, not someone like you. It makes bile rise in your throat when you think about how he has to watch his friends pick up women from different cities and he has to sit by himself because his old ball and chain is all the way back in nowhereville.

Having a front row seat of your own demise is too much, deciding it would be better to watch on the monitor in the green room. When you're finally alone, it doesn't get any better. The large mirror that hangs on the wall captures your attention, calling to you like a siren to a fisherman.

Taking a seat, you begin to pick apart every single detail of your face. You criticize the shape of your eyes and where they sit, the length of your nose and how the shape sits weird, and how the pores that sit on your skin are way bigger than you remember.

The loud voice in your head pleads with you, begging you to stop before it's too late. "DON'T RUIN THIS" it screams and the demons that have overtaken your mind push it away, not wanting reason to ruin their demolishing.

When the guys enter the room, you realize you've been staring in the mirror for longer than you intended, almost like you were hypnotized.

"What a great fucking show!" Gareth announces as he grabs a beer from the mini fridge in the corner of the room.

"I agree." Grant says as he plops down on one of the leather sofas, exhaling loudly as the adrenaline crashes through him.

"This crowd was definitely the loudest one we've had." Jeff's voice is louder than he thinks. Clapping his hands together, he signals at Gareth to throw him a beer.

"So, what do you two lovebirds plan on doing now that touring is over?" Grant asks, leaning up from his slumped position to look over at you.

Eddie wipes his neck and face off with a towel, stalking over to you with a blissed out look on his face. Leaning down to you, he places a sloppy kiss on your forehead, removing with a loud 'mwah' sound when he does.

"I planned on taking my girl around the city before we head back home." Eddie is still looking down at you, almost like he's questioning you if it's fine with you.

Returning a fake smile, hoping he doesn't notice it doesn't reach your eyes, you nod your head to let him know you approve. A guttural moan pulls your attention to the brown haired boy over who's now sitting on the opposite couch of Grant and Jeff.

"You two are grossly in love, it actually makes me sick." Gareth rolls his eyes and the roar of chuckles ring out in the room.

"You act like we don't have a line of hot ass babes waiting for us." Jeff laughs and Gareth hums as he swallows the sip of alcohol.

"Very true, Jeff. Very fucking true." The boy laughs in agreement.

You know that their comments hold no malice to you but it stings all the same. All you heard was, "Too bad for Eddie, we get to fuck hot girls while he's left with that." It loops through your head, digging a deeper hole, bringing up every bad thought you've ever thought about yourself in the twenty something years you've been alive.

Everyone continues to talk, laughing and joking like they always do and the only thing you can do is get lost inside the storm that tears through your body. The feeling of Eddie's fingers dragging along the skin on the back of your neck has long been forgotten. The voices have all gone muffled, your own demons speaking loudly over them to even try to understand what they're talking about.

"Angel?" Eddie calls and it brings you out of the darkness of your brain.

You hum, craning your neck up to look at him. He's breathtaking, you think, even in the horrible lighting of this dressing room he looks perfect and it crushes you even more.

"You 'kay? Haven't really said much." He says, only loud enough for you to hear, not wanting to bring unwanted attention.

"M'fine, just kind of tired." You shrug. Flashing those pretty teeth at you, he smiles and it makes you sick with love.

"I'm sorry, Angel. I know I didn't give you much time to recover from the flight... and other things." He jokes, wiggling his eyebrows, earning him a light shove from you.

Leaning down once more, he captures your lips in a loving kiss and a small portion of the tension in your body fades.

"See, I told you! Sickening!" Gareth shouts, his arm stretched out and hand face up, directing everyone's eyes to the two of you.

Bashfully, you shove your face into Eddie's stomach to hide. Draping his one arm on your back, he twists his body slightly to look at the others.

"Gareth, you're clearly jealous I get to kiss my smokin' hot wife." Eddie shouts, and a collection of groans fill the room.

If only you could believe the nice words your husband said.

__

That night in the hotel room, you tell Eddie you're simply too tired to partake in any sexual acts, which he doesn't protest. Laying in the comfort of his strong arms arms, the thoughts are too loud to melt away to sleep. You wonder what Eddie dreams of as you lay awake, if he ever regrets marrying you, and if he wishes he could partake in the same things as the guys. You cry softly, tears pooling on the fabric of your pillow, praying to whoever to is listening to make it better.

The next morning, Eddie is like the energizer bunny when he wakes you up from your four hour sleep. Going to the local diner down the street, Eddie talks about how fun the show was, moving his hands dramatically as he retells you every detail. You try to look interested, smiling and laughing when needed but truthfully you aren't paying attention, you don't even chastise him when he speaks with a mouth full of food.

Afterwards, he shows you around the city and all the sights it offers. It pains you that you can't even enjoy it, too focused on everyone else around you, comparing yourself to every woman that walks past.

Eddie notices, he's noticed since last night but he didn't say anything. At first he genuinely thought you were tired since you never really traveled before, but when you sat across from him at the diner and poked at the food on your plate, he knew. Despite what a lot of people thought, Eddie wasn't stupid. There are many things he had knowledge on and his best subject was you.

He didn't know what was particularly bothering you but he knew all too well. You were in your head about something, beating yourself up about something that wasn't worth the fight, but he knew you could make it out. You always did.

The problem was you didn't fight out of this one. You stayed locked away in the torture chamber that was your mind and let the problem eat you alive. Eddie did everything you always talked about doing, showing you the places you dreamed about and you still didn't crack.

When you returned back to the hotel room, it was oddly quiet. Even Eddie who never stopped talking, was scarily silent. Sitting down on the bed, you started to talk off your shoes, working at the laces slowly.

Eddie stands in the doorway, leaning his body weight on the wall for support. His gaze burns into you, uncomfortably so and you're terrified to even look back at him.

"So are you going to tell me what's wrong?" His tone is serious and it terrifies you.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you meet his gaze. His arms are crossed over his chest and his features are harsh, waiting for an answer.

"I told you, I'm tired." You lie right through your teeth and like a metal detector he catches it, scoffing loudly and shaking his head.

"I need you to cut the shit, Angel. What is wrong?" He questions again and it ignites a fire within you.

"I told you, I'm fucking tired Eddie. Sorry I'm not you, I don't travel the world for a living." You snap at him.

"Are you- What the fuck did I do?" He argues back and you sigh heavily. This isn't how you wanted it to go but all the emotion from the past four years are coming out in knife like jabs.

"What the fuck did I do," You mock him. "What did you do? I'll tell you what the fuck you did. You left me, you fucking left me. Don't worry Eds, I'm happy for you, trust me. I love knowing that I'm the old ball and chain back home that keeps you from fucking groupies. But it's fine if you look, just not touch, right?"

When you're done you feel worse than before. Eddie stares at you, frown pulling on his lips and big glossy eyes that stare back at you. God, you want to kick yourself for making him feel like shit. This all could've been prevented if you just talked to him, let him in on what was happening but no, the demons won and they shot Eddie down while doing it. The worst part is, you pulled the trigger.

"Is that what you think?" His voice is small, something you've never heard from him and it breaks your heart.

"Fuck- I didn't mean that. I just-" Closing your eyes, you try to compose yourself but it doesn't work. "I just miss you so fucking much. Last night I couldn't even enjoy the show because all the tits that were on display in the front row distracted me. All I could think was 'how could he want me when all of these beautiful woman are better than me?'"

"So instead of watching the end of the show, I sat in front of the mirror and made a list of every ugly thing about me. My body, my face, my voice, every fucking thing about me is horrendous. Then when the guys mentioned fucking groupies, I felt so guilty 'cause while they're out havin fun, you have to sit there all alone because I'm all the way in Hawkins."

It all comes out like word vomit, laying on the floor of the hotel room, filling the room with the stench. Your ugly truths are now out there, you're so fucking vulnerable and all you want to do is hide.

"Are you dumb?" Eddie's voice brings you out of your pity party. Staring at him in shock, you can see his own tears staining his face.

"Do you realize that it kills me not being with you? Every city we go to, all I can think about is you and how much I want to take you there. Those girls you're talking about, the ones the guys screw around with? Yeah, I've seen them and let me tell you, they're gross." Stalking the short distance, he takes a seat right next to you on the bed.

"Do I get jealous because they get to have sex? Absolutely. It's not 'cause of the girls they bring home, it's cause I wish it were you. So many nights I laid awake, jerking off to the thought of you and it was way better than any fucking groupie could do for me." You snort at his admission, rolling your eyes still not believing. Grabbing your chin, he pulls your attention up to him.

"I'm so fucking serious, Angel. I'm so in love with you, it's maddening. Sometimes when I call you, I can't help but blush like I'm back in the ninth grade again. It blows my mind every single day that I got to marry the gorgeous girl from Click's class." His words are like warm butter, melting over you and seeping into your skin.

"Do you really mean that?" It's meek and unsure, like you're scared of what the answer could be.

"Cross my heart." He simply says, marking an 'X' over his heart with the tip of his finger.

Sniffling loudly, you wipe away the tears that roll down your cheeks. "I'm sorry, Teddy." You say and he hums, resting his forehead on your just like he did twenty four hours before.

"It's okay, baby. Trust me, I feel the same way sometimes." Furrowing your eyebrows at him, he laughs at the scowl on your face.

"Not like that, baby. I just mean, I get scared one of those hot dads are gonna try to pull a move on you when they drop their kid off." Between the serious look on his face and the honesty in his voice, you can't help but cackle.

"Eddie, who exactly would pull a move? Mr. Gardner? He's like forty and wears a very bad toupee." Eddie tries to cover the snort that comes out with a fake a cough.

"Hey, maybe you're into that kind of thing." He simply shrugs and you roll your eyes.

Settling into a comfortable silence, Eddie kisses you lightly and you pout when he pulls away.

"Can I show you how much I love you?" Your eyes scan his face for a moment before nodding.

"Please." That's all he needs to hear before he's placing you on your back, your head being cradled by the soft cotton pillows.

Eddie starts by kissing you, sweet and slow, reminiscent to the time you and him lost your virginities. The only difference about this time is he knows what he’s doing, confident in the way he glides his tongue against yours.

Moving his attention along your jawline, he places small lingering pecks down your neck. His hand moves down the sides of your body, finding purchase on the bottom of your shirt where he tugs softly on the material. Getting the hint, you sit up and help him pull the garment over your head, your bra is quick to follow.

Laying you back down on the soft cotton of the pillows, he continues his journey down your body. Soft lips leaving prints of love along your collarbones and down your sternum, invisible prints of love collect on your skin where they burn bright and settle into your bones.

“My sweet girl.” He trails more kisses around the doughy flesh of your breast.

Finding the hardened nipple, he swirls his tongue around it before pulling it into his mouth, lightly sucking on it before pulling off with a pop.

“My beautiful girl.” Moving his attention to the other breast, he repeats the same motions from before.

Moving down your tummy, he continues to map out his journey, leaving lingering tattoos onto your skin. Finally making it to his destination, he toys with the waistband of your jeans, popping the button open and pulling the zipper down.

Lifting your hips, you assist him in taking of the restrictive clothing. In one swift action, he rips off the jeans and panties that once covered you. Feeling exposed and shy, you whimper up at him to get his attention.

“What’s wrong, princess?” His tone is concerned and it makes you pout even more.

Wordlessly, you reach your hand down to grab the hem of his shirt where you yank gently. Catching your drift, Eddie pulls it over his head and let’s it fall to the ground where the rest of your close reside.

“You were feelin’ shy, huh?” You nod at his question and he leans up to press his lips to the tip of your nose. “Gotta make sure my girl is comfy.”

Shuffling himself onto his tummy, he places your legs over his shoulders so he can be face to face with your glistening sex.

Kissing the inside of both of your thighs, you squirm trying to move him to the one place you need him most. Tsking loudly, he looks up at you with a correcting gaze.

“Be patient,” he scolds and you listen, biting back your fussing and fidgeting.

A deft finger runs up your slit, moving your slick around as it does. “This pretty cunt is so miserable, huh? She’s sad without me there to make her feel better.”

Taking two of his fingers, Eddie spreads you open to exposing your core causing you to hiss when the cold air hits you.

A swift lick of his tongue hits you like a bullet train, all at once it’s too much but not enough. A sob leaves your throat when he stops, glassy eyes meeting the dark one of your husbands, pleading with him for more.

“You know,” While the pad of his thumb over your aching clit, he continues to keep eye contact with you, “I don’t like when you talk badly about my wife.”

“The strong, smart, loving, and breathtaking woman I married,” He continues his ministrations, not using his other hand to trace around your hole, “Doesn’t deserve to be talked badly about.”

He continues teasing you, not inserting his fingers into your clenching hole and not giving your bundle of nerves enough pressure. He’s making you sweat it out and you think you might die.

He coos sweetly at you, faux pity on his features as he does. “I know, honey. S’it hurt? Want me to make you feel better?”

“Please, Teddy. Please please please.” Your begging falls on deaf ears though, Eddie just continues his evil plan of torture.

“I’ll make it better,” Putting his mouth close to your cunt, you can feel his warm breath and you shy in relief. Moving away quickly, he looks back up at you and you fight the urge to yell at him. “But first, I want you to say you’re beautiful.”

“Wha- Eddie, no! Just fucking- God, just eat me out already!” You yell and he mocks you by laughing.

“Baby, I can leave you high and dry and be perfectly fine. So unless you want to get yourself off, I suggest you do what I say.” Although you know Eddie would never make you take care of yourself, his threat hits you like a lightning strike. His cool demeanor and stoic tone makes you believe every word he said.

“I’m beautiful.” It comes out in a whisper, so low he barely catches it.

“Nuh-uh, say it louder.” Eddie corrects you and the buzzing feeling over embarrassment burns your cheeks.

“I’m beautiful.” This time it’s louder but you don’t sound convincing.

“I want you to believe it. Want you to be nice to my wife.”

Something about the words being said to you makes your heart beam. All of Eddie’s statements to you have been chipping away at the guarded walls of your mind, casting light on the darkness that overshadows it. You start to believe him, you start to let the positive and loving words bring you out of the insecurities that plague your thoughts.

“I’m beautiful.”

You say it at the same volume but this time something in your eyes let’s Eddie know you believe the words you say. The glimmer of light that disappeared 24 hours ago, has finally returned to its rightful spot.

“There’s my girl.” Dimples flash at you before he dives right into you.

Eddie’s tongue replaces his thumb, adding more pressure to the pulsating spot. The finger that once teased you, is not fully seated in you, curled just right while it pumps in and out of you.

He’s not doing much, basically just warming you up for what’s to come, but something about it lights you on fire. The adoration Eddie has for you is being poured into your heart, lighting your body in a glow that he only manages to bring out of you.

Your moans grow louder when Eddie starts sucking on your clit, another finger shoved inside of you moving in and out in a faster speed than before.

You arch off of the bed like you’ve been possessed, whimpering and withering around making Eddie use his unoccupied hand to push you back down.

“Shit, you’re s’tight.” Eddie’s voice comes out slurred, drunk off of the taste of you.

“You gettin’ close? You gonna cum for me, Angel?” You don’t have the energy to answer, too lost in the feeling of your stomach tightening.

Slowing down the speed of his fingers, you huff in aggravation. Eddie’s voice pulls you back down to reality, your bliss slowly starting to fade away.

“I’ll let you cum if you say you’re perfect.” Lifting up on your elbows, you look down to see him already staring at you.

“Eddie I’m not-“ You’re immediately cut off by him, his tone more commanding than before.

“Say it, or you won’t cum at all. I just want to hear you say it.” He begs, his pace starting to quicken and his thumb now going in figure 8’s on your clit.

You’re quickly hurdled back to the euphoria you were just pulled out of. Eyes rolling around in your head, whining as the string in your stomach pulls tighter.

“I’m, shit- M’perfect. Your perfect wife.” You’re a blabbering mess, head thrashing back and forth in ecstasy.

“I’m gonna cum. Teddy, please!” You beg and he gives you exactly what you want.

“Go ‘head, Angel, let go f’me.” With one last stroke on that sweet spot, you’re catapulted into the paradise of your release.

It feels like you’re floating above the clouds, weightless and free. You don’t feel the gush that splashes your thighs or the sheets, and the voice of your husband is nothing but an angelic voice ringing out.

You return back down to the soft mattress, boneless and melting into the bed. When your breathing calms and you finally have the strength to open your eyes, you’re met with a Cheshire Cat like smile and the soaking face of your husband.

“You did such a good job for me baby,” Kissing you sweetly, you can taste yourself on his lips. Pulling away slowly, you bring your arm to his pants, rubbing your palm along the outline of his hard cock.

Shaking his head, he gently grabs your wrist and puts it above your head. “This is about you, Angel. Wanna make you feel good.”

A quiet okay leaves your lips and he continues to work himself out of his pants, letting his dick bounce out of its confides. Saliva pools in your mouth, the desire to taste him takes over and you whimper.

Chuckling at your pouty face, he moves back between your legs that you parted for him. When he runs the tip of his aching cock through your folds, you both hiss on contact.

Lining himself up, Eddie brings his hand to your hip where he rubs his thumb in soothing circles. Both of you moan in unison when he finally breaches your entrance, a feeling neither of you have gotten used to.

Pushing himself further into you, he takes his time to let you adjust to his size, something you still haven’t gotten used to. He stretches you out so nicely, filling you up like nothing else you’ve ever felt. Nothing can compare to him, every bump and ridge of his cock making it even better.

Lacing his fingers into yours, he hovers over you as he starts thrusting slowly into you. A choir of moans are made between the two of you, singing a song better than anything Eddie’s ever written.

With the way your legs are wrapped around his waist, you try to push him in deeper, wanting to stay this close with him forever. This isn’t just about fucking or getting off, this is about the man you fell in love with all those years ago and how he’s appreciating you. He’s trying to show you just how much his heart yearns for you.

“So good, so fuckin’ good for me.” Eddie pants heavily as he thrusts the tip of his cock ramming into your cervix just right.

“Always so good f’me, Angel. You take such good care of me, such a good wife for me.” He’s babbling at this point, reaching the tipping point faster than he thought.

Tears prick the corners of your eyes, all you can think about is how much love you love each other, how good he’s making you feel, and how he was able to pull you out of the darkness of your horrible thought.

Removing his hand from yours, he snakes it down your body to find you abandoned clit. With the added pleasure, you clench harder around him and the air in your lungs seeps out in a high pitched gasp.

“I can’t wait to fuck my load into you, baby. Gonna get you nice n’ round, show everyone you’re mine. You want that? Want me to fuck a baby in you?” His voice echoes in your ears and travels down into the pit of your belly, getting you closer to the edge.

“I wan’ it, s-so bad, Teddy. Wanna feel it.” You’re babbling, toes curling at you tippy toe over the line of your orgasm.

“F-fuck you sound so pretty when you beg. Come on, Angel, cum for me.”

And just like that, both of you unravel together. Him painting your walls in his release, while you guys around him. Eddie works both of you through your highs, thrusting sloppy and lazily into you until he can’t anymore.

Eddie doesn’t pull out of you right away, not wanting to let go of the feeling so soon. He lays on your chest, trying to settle his breathing as best as he can. Bringing a hand to the top of his head, you rake your nails softly into his hair.

Humming in delight, Eddie kisses your chest as a thank you. A small blip of time in a long year, the kind that makes the bad days all worth it. The secrets whispered in hotels and lingering trail that still burns on your skin, invisible kiss marks left for reminders.

It’s worth it, all the hardships and long months, when you know he’ll always find his way back to you. The sweet boy from 9th grade that promised his heart to you, now sings his undying love to you for thousands of crowds to hear.

More tears leave your eyes, not in sadness but in pure happiness. You’re so fucking in love with him and sickeningly so, just like Gareth said.

Swiveling his head up to you, Eddie rests his chin lightly on your chest.

“Hi.” He says meekly.

Eddie doesn’t question your tears because he has tears of his own and he knows they’re for the same reason.

“Hi.” You parrot back to him, a wet smile adorning your lips.

“Do you believe me now?” Sweet brown eyes pulls you in, sucking you in as they stare at you.

“Yeah, I do.” You reassure and he smiles.

Using his free hand, Eddie takes his finger to trace shapes over your heart. You melt when you feel him draw a heart with your initials and his on the inside.

“I wanted to tell you,” He flits his eyes down to his finger where it doodles on your skin, “the guys and I have a break now that tours over. So I was thinking..”

A pregnant pause settles between his statement and he makes no moves to finish it. It reminds you of the first time he asked you on a date, nervous and fidgety.

“What is it, Teddy?” Lifting his chin with your fingers, you raise an eyebrow to coax him into answering.

“I was thinkin’ maybe we could try, ya know, for a family or somethin’. “ Eddie’s cheeks and the tips of his ears are coated in a pink blush.

Your heart picks up and you know that Eddie can feel it under his finger. Smiling with all your teeth, you cheeks ache from the stretch.

“You wanna have kids with me?” Your voice is only a whisper and he giggles at you.

“Well I don’t know if you noticed but, I just blew my whole load inside of you.” The bluntness of his statement makes your cheeks burn. Slapping your hands over your face, you cover yourself from the embarrassment

“Hey, don’t need to get all shy on me now,” Pulling your hands away from your face, he smiles smugly at you. “If I recall correctly you were the one all like “yes Teddy ugh please!!”.” Eddie mocks you and you roll your eyes.

“Bye the way, I’ve been counting every eye roll since you got here and I promise your in trouble when we get home.” He points and accusatory finger at you causing you to clench around him.

“I love you, Teddy. Thank you.” You place a kiss to his lips and he smiles brightly at you.

“Don’t need to thank me, baby. I’m glad I’m here to remind you.” Pecking your lips once more, he pulls a way with an even bigger smile.

“Also, I love you too, Mrs. Munson.”

-

-

-

-

[nekrosdolly]

boyfriend's dad wesker hcs (18+)

you're sweet and kind, and your boyfriend's dad is... not.

a/n; reader is in their 20's/in college with wesker's kid, jake. wesker is a good dad just not here though! reader is dating jake muller-wesker. albert is a major perv here guys sorry. based on re5 wesker -`♡´-

cw; afab!reader, dom!wesker, lowkey size kink, nonconsensual recording, wesker being a creep, major age gap (12+ years), mentions of smoking and drinking, stalking, breadcrumbing as a manipulation tactic, eventual sex (clit stimulation, fingering, p in v, unsafe sex, cumplay, creampie), dubcon, cheating, grooming (technically), praise and degradation, slight daddy kink (if u squint),

petnames (reader received); dear, darling, sweet girl, dolly

-`♡´- bfd!wesker, who has never cared for anyone younger than him, let alone someone as young as his son.

-`♡´- bfd!wesker, who takes interest in you after his darling son, Jake, brings you home in a hurry to get to bed. he's working in the living room, waiting for his son to come home.

he's not surprised to see his son rush through the front door, but he is, however, surprised to see he brought someone home. he moves his laptop from his lap to stand up and introduce himself the moment he notices you're there. the look on your face is one he's seen before- desire and the unmistakable reddened scleras from smoking weed, all directed at his dopehead son.

"jacob-"

"later, dad." jake rushes you to the basement, where his room is, and you're gone in an instant. it's clear you're just as high as your little boyfriend, gone off a blunt and some vodka. for some reason, that irks him.

he walks over to jacob's door and leans against it, ready to knock with his knuckles just an inch from the door when he hears something come from you. a moan, then a hushed whisper from jacob telling you to be quiet, and another, softer moan from you.

so maybe his face goes red and he sits there for a moment, focused on the way you sound and how loud you get when you cum. he's just as quiet as he was when he approached his son's room while walking away, forgoing his work and retreating upstairs to fist his half-hard cock.

-`♡´- bfd!wesker, who has a knowing look on his face the next morning, up early as hell just to catch you sneaking out of the house because your dumb boyfriend's still asleep. who's sitting on the couch and sees you looking a little rough, hickies covering your neck and your clothes messed up from your rush to get them on. you're a hungover wreck.

"good morning," his voice startles you, of course it does. you hadn't even noticed him, a residual high from smoking so much weed the night prior making your mind foggy. instead of running, like you want to, you approach the couch, your nerves aflame. why does he look so smug?

"mr. wesker, i-i'm so sorry about last night, it was so rude of me to not introduce myself…" you're blushing. you're intimidated by him and he loves that. he gives you a charming smile and reassures you that it's alright, dear, just hurry to class. he sends you on your way with a pat on your lower back.

-`♡´- bfd!wesker, who asks his son about you later. jake tells him all about you, just as wesker was hoping. while jake is in class, he installs cameras in the house- invisible to the naked eye, of course. he'd hate for you to feel surveillanced and scare you off.

-`♡´- bfd!wesker, who tells jake he's working late tonight as an excuse to sit in the parking lot of an abandoned building and watch the cameras from his phone. he pays special attention to the one he angled at the couch as he palms himself to the video feed of you, so cutely sitting there and talking with his son. he doesn't even have to try to spend time alone with you because you're always at his place, anyway.

-`♡´- bfd!wesker, who adores it when you blush from something he said or did, who wants you all to himself, his son be damned. he compliments your outfits, your hair, your perfume (how can he smell that when you're three feet away?) when your boyfriend isn't around. he'll brush a hand through your hair and murmur something about how soft it is, leaving you red in the face when your boyfriend comes back.

-`♡´- bfd!wesker, who knows it's wrong to want you and doesn't care. he loves the way you give your full attention to him when he's talking, how you pretend that you don't see the looks he gives you, or that you're not affected by the subtle touches and unspoken promises of more. a hand on the small of your back as he passes you, one on the back of your neck as he gives you a tour of the home- something his son neglected to do- his gaze lingering too long on the curve of your throat and waist, his imagination running wild.

-`♡´- bfd!wesker, who finds a pair of your panties in the wash, presumably forgotten, and takes them for himself. uses them to get off, his tongue on the gusset as he imagines your taste and how you'd clench around him when you cum.

-`♡´- bfd!wesker, who tells you that his son isn't good enough for you. who plants seeds of doubt in your head and waters them religiously. you're too oblivious to notice what he's doing, because mr. wesker is so nice, he would never do that to your relationship, right? who tells you that an older man would treat you right, much better than his stupid son.

-`♡´- bfd!wesker, who waits for you to get into a fight with his son about something so he can comfort you after his son storms out of the house, leaving you crying in his bedroom. you don't know what to do, don't know who to turn to, and like an angel, he's there for you. he pulls you into his lap and lets you cry it out, rubbing your back the whole time and whispering sweet nothings in his ear that leave you confused and in need of more comfort, because why does your boyfriend's dad make you feel better than your boyfriend ever has?

-`♡´- bfd!wesker, who loves the way you wrap your arms around his neck, and in your vulnerability, trust him with your life. you're putty in his strong arms, his hold secure enough to make you feel safe. he knows you don't mind when one of his hands moves to your thigh, kneading softly to get your blood running south. he feels your face heat up, your hips shifting slightly to mute the gentle throb of your clit. as if you could get away with such a subtle thing like trying to hide your arousal.

-`♡´- bfd!wesker, who gently forces your thighs to part to accompany his hand. who's been anticipating this, the way you moan into his neck as he thumbs your clit through your panties. how you press into his hand when he slips two fingers in after moving your panties to the side. the way your hands grab at his shirt, your fists clenched around the fabric like you'd die if you let go of him.

"that's my good girl, taking my fingers so well. i know, i know, this is just what you needed, right darling? your legs spread so nice for your boyfriend's daddy." he croons, his lips just centimeters from your ear. the fanning of his breath against your neck, his long fingers in your cunt and the noises they draw out of you- utterly sinful. you know it's wrong, but just thinking about your boyfriend coming home to this sight has your cunt squeezing and aching for more. he knows you want it just as bad as he does, the way you're gripping his fingers like they're his cock. you're close already and he wonders just how long it's been since you've been fucked properly.

-`♡´- bfd!wesker, who kisses you to keep you from whining when he pulls his fingers out of you to undo his belt and pull his cock out from its cloth confines. who hisses slightly when you stroke him, slightly inexperienced but for him, you're willing to learn. who's so encouraging, holding your hips as you pierce yourself on his cock with little pushback. whose tip nails your cervix and he's not even fully inside. who's fine with that because as much as he wants this, he doesn't want to hurt you. who guides your hips in the way he knows you enjoy, because he's watched your boyfriend move you the same way.

"just like that, dolly. your cunt feels perfect, gotta ruin it for everyone else, don't i? mold it to my cock so you can't cum any other way. you'd like that, right sweet girl?" his nails dig into the meat of your hips, bouncing you at a steady pace. you nod dumbly, the pleasure melting your brain into nothingness. you could get addicted.

-`♡´- bfd!wesker, who doesn't pull out to cum. he keeps you brainless on his dick, forcing an orgasm out of you as he rubs that spongy spot inside of you. he grins when you moan his name as the pleasure comes crashing through you, your nails digging into his shoulders. he loves that sound.

"t-too much- fuck- please-" you whine, burying your face in his shoulder as he holds your hips steady, thrusting up into you with an unforseen vigor. he's not stopping until you're full of his cum, maybe even crying a little.

"quiet, darling. i'm only doing what's best for you." he hisses, his hips stuttering with stifled groan. you moan in unison, his thick, sticky seed spilling in you, but he doesn't stop fucking you.

-`♡´- bfd!wesker who fucks his load so deep inside of you, you're worried it might actually take. who strokes your hair as you remain on his lap, recovering when he's satisfied with himself.

"you're not going to tell my son about this, are you darling?" he runs his fingers through your hair until you're alright to sit up.

"no."

"good girl. come here." he kisses you again, sweeter this time, but you get the feeling that he's never going to let you go.

-`♡´- bfd!wesker, who refuses to let you out of his grasp, even if you break up with jake. you're not escaping him that easily.

[wutheringcaterpillar]

Jim from TDS gets so fuzzy brained and dumb when he’s pounding into Y/N, because he wanted her for so long and he finally has her. he feels he deserves to have what he wants, and also making sure everyone knows she belongs to him.

Y/N could be either Jim’s son’s gf/ex-gf, Jim’s daughter’s best friend, or Jim’s best friend 🫣

Btw you’re doing such a great job with your fics!!!

Warnings: Age gap (Jim is in his 40s, reader between 18-25), p in v, Jim’s a bad dad, unprotected sex, creampie, stalking social media, mentions of masturbating, taking inappropriate photos without consent, hickies

Thank you for the request I had a lot of fun with this! Hope you enjoy!❤️

Jim was reclined in his bed, his hand massaging his hardened member while he scrolled through social media photos of you. He was completely fucked ever since the day his son brought you home and may or may not have developed unhealthy coping mechanisms that his son had what he couldn’t.

Even in his dreams he could see your attractive silhouette, continuously replaying fake scenarios of you straddling him, on your knees batting those innocent lashes up at him begging for his cock.

You had him wrapped around your fucking finger without even knowing, you were completely and utterly hypnotizing.

“Fuck y/n..” He kept replaying a video on the beach, only thing covering you was a skimpy little bikini. Jim could just imagine what was underneath, reminiscing how even when he lay in the sun tanning chair, he couldn’t help but snag a few photos when you weren’t paying attention.

Position of you bent over picking up pebbles from the sand, when you came up for air from the water, specs of water droplets painting your chest, running down your cleavage.

He needed to have you, wanted to be entangled in the sheets with you, hearing you moan his name lustfully, screaming as he made you cum.

Your body was so young, hardly flawed, and had curves in all the right places. He hated to see you leave the house but loved to watch you walk away.

In the midst of coming to his high, the door slammed downstairs and he could hear yelling, what sounded to be you.

Curious, and for caution he pulled up his pants, huffing in irritation that he was interrupted from his intrusive, sexual imaginations.

“You are such an ass! Just because I enjoyed an evening with my friends doesn’t give you the right to go out with some random girls to some party and kiss them! You’re ridiculous, did you even think about me for a singular moment?!” This was the moment Jim had been waiting for, as awful as it may sound, he wanted you two to break up. He wanted the opportunity to arise for him to be there when you’re upset, knowing that there was a chance for you two to be together.

Jim wasn’t stupid, there were many times where you “accidentally” brushed past him inappropriately, there were plenty of stolen glances and obscene gestures whenever his son Caleb wasn’t around. You wanted him just as much, but due to your relationship with his son, you hadn’t gone any further. He’d constantly have to excuse himself to the restroom to deal with the repurcussions, seeking out a sweet release.

“You’re over reacting, besides I’ve been meaning to put an end to this dwindling flame. We were never going to work so figured, why not just end it the easy way.” Jim was in shock that Caleb would do such a thing to a girl, especially you. He had taught him better than that, granted he did cheat on his mother but that was besides the point.

Hearing footsteps run up the stairs followed by a door slam, Jim poked his head out hearing your sniffles from downstairs. What kind of man would he be to not check in and ensure you were okay?

“Y/N?” You were seated on the cushioned sofa, mascara flowing messly down your cheeks from weeping, but that voice…that masculine, caring, attractive voice had your glancing up from your emotional turmoil.

Jim was standing there in his pajama pants and black t-shirt, his reading glasses tucked in the hem of his shirt while his peppery hair was slightly disheveled.

“Oh I’m sorry, I was just going to head out. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“No, no. Stay please. My son’s an idiot and I can assure you I didn’t raise him to be that way.” He took a seat next to you, trying to act concerned when in reality his eyes kept glancing at your thighs, the way your skirt hardly covered anything. Keep it together Jim, jesus.

The close proximity and the smell of Jim’s cologne was raising the tension, and an idea popped into your head. If Caleb thought he had the right to hurt you, you would hurt him ten times worse.

Jim’s crystal blue, alluring eyes were locked on your in a transfixed state of mind, heart pumping with adrenaline when he settled his hand on your thigh in a way to “comfort” you.

He was radiant, smart, and overwhelmingly attractive for a man in his forties. When he touched you, goosebumps formed on your skin, breath hitching in your throat. Was this a bad idea, most likely, but temptation and profound desire had a hold of you both.

“I um- I always thought you were a nice girl Y/N, and beautiful, kind, sexy- fuck what the fuck am I saying.” He wanted to hit himself for his stammering of words, rolling off his tongue without even thinking, but you simply laughed, blushing from his clear embarassment. When he tried to pull away his hand, you moved it back further up just nearly underneath your skit.

“Jim, it doesn’t bother me. I’ve always thought you were quite sexy too, I mean fuck you’re a total dilf and I’ve always imagined what you looked like underneath those clothes. How fucked up is that? My own boyfriend- well ex’s dad.” You glanced down at the floor, eyes skimming the carpet trying to find a way to justify your feelings, that they weren’t morally wrong.

Brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, he slid his finger down the length of your warm neck, gaining your attention.

There was a momentous silence as you stared into one another eyes, an immense sense of crave and desire coursing through your veins.

Closing the distance, you smashed your lips against Jim’s, hands settled on his cheeks needing him desperately. At that moment the air in the room seemed to disappear, the oxygen slowly didsapating from Jim’s lungs. He was in disbelief that this was actually happening, he was kissing his son’s ex girlfriend who he’d been masturbating to all summer long.

Your lips were soft, smoothe, and you were surprisingly good at kissing for how young you were. Unable to resist, his tongue lapped inbetween your lips as he pulled you onto his lap, his hardened cock rutting against your dripping mound desperately needing you, forgetting Caleb was just upstairs.

He held you like a woman, his hands grasping at the chubby skin of your ass cheeks underneath your skirt, roaming and massaging the delicate skin roughly.

“Fuck Y/N… you don’t know how long I’ve waited for this moment…” Your lips roamed down to the crook of his neck, sucking and rotating your tongue, surely leaving a mark causing him to release a disgruntled groan.

Your hands fumbled with his belt, craving to be filled with his cock while your pussy throbbed in your panties, slick merely dripping from your cunt.

Shedding yourself of your shirt, Jim’s eyes widened from the sight of your well rounded, perfect tits, they were everything he had imagined them to be and more.

His hands grasped the jiggly skin, eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head in satisfaction. Hold it together Jim, what would she think if you busted just from the sight of her fucking tits, pathetic man.  

His brain seemed to turn to a puddle, any prior thoughts lost from your hypnotizing body. He had to have you right then and there.

“Well, are you going to fuck me or not, because I really…” You trailed off you sentence, running a singular finger down his lip, eyes focused on him with a lustful gaze as you grinded against his lap, needing more.

“Really, need you inside me, my pretty pussy aches for you Jim.” Within second he flipped you onto your back, shedding himself of his clothes and tearing down your skirt and panties down in a animalistic frenzy.

He had never seen such a perfect cunt in his life, so in tact, so beautiful, and dripping for him, god how his dick was felt like it was going to burst any minute. His size took you by surprise, Jim wasn’t small by any means, his cock a good eight maybe nine inches, this was going to be fun.

Your hand grazed the back of his neck, pulling him down just so your lips brushed against his ear.

“Hope your cock is better than your son’s, wouldn’t want to be dissapointed.” He took that as a challenge, one that he knew very well he was going to win.

“My son, doesn’t seem to know how to pleasure his woman and I’m going to make sure he and everyone else knows who fucked you right.” Your eyebrow quirked up in interest.

“Well go on then, fuck me like no other man could.” Jim had never been this nervous in his life to fuck a woman, but you- you he didn’t want to leave unsatisfied. 

He didn’t even need to glance down before pushing the head of his thick shaft deep inside of you, claiming you as his.

You gasped from the sudden intrusion, nail’s scraping against the muscles on Jim’s back. He smirked satisfyingly, leaning down to kiss you once more, shoving his tongue roughly into your mouth, desperately needing to explore every inch of you, craving more and more.

He pumped quickly into you, patience being non existent, the feel of your hot, indisputably tight walls clenching to his length. Your boobs bounced with each powerful thrust. His lips trailed down to the warmth of your neck, tenderly sucking lavender marks into your smoothe skin, needing people to know who you belonged to now.

“Oh Jim, more, more, please…” Oh the velvet, captivating sound of your strained moan had his horny brain whirling, eyes merely fluttering closed from the sweet descent of your exasperated tone.

Your pussy was throbbing from pleasure, being filled to the brim like no other man had fucked you before.

Your fingers intertwined in his hair, scrunching at his gray, partially wavy hair, pressing him against your body as he fucked you relentlessly. His free hand cusped at the cushiony skin of your boob, rolling the jelly like skin.

He needed to see you in another position, he need to see himself filling your cunt.

Standing up causing you to whine from the empty feeling, he picked you up with his strong arms effortlessly as if you weighed nothing before bending you over the sofa.

“Oh!” Jim slapped your ass and pulled your head back aggresively by the strands of your hair, plumetting his cock into your heated, tight walls simultaneously.

“Fuck! Fuck Jim! Ah!” He didn’t hold back, striking deep within your aching core over and over, his balls slapping against your skin with each powerful thrust. He had never seen an ass bounce back against him so poetically and perfectly, he was nearly salivating on the mouth looking down at you bent over on display for him and only him. Watching your pussy swallow his dick with each desperate rut, god you were stunning.

Hearing you man his name and take his cock so well was sending him over the edge, his dick pulsating in you before he even had the chance to think. 

As you pounded your ass back against him, your bottom lip was becoming increasingly swollen from how much your teeth had been biting at it from the immense pleasure.

“Jesus, you’re fucking amazing, fucking beautiful, taking my cock so fucking well. Tell me who you belong to.”

“You Jim. All yours, completely yours. I-I’m going to-Ah-“ He slapped your ass cheek fiercely once more, focusing on the way you moaned his name, the way your back arched as you came undone.

Your knuckes turning white from the grip they had on the cushioned surface, toes curling from your orgasm. The euphoric, alluring sensation taking over every part of your body.

That didn’t stop Jim from going to pound town. Slamming your hips down against him, rutting desperately and bottoming out deep within your dripping, aching cunt. He wad close.

“Gonna fucking cum- want me to fill you up love. Hm? Having my cum spilling out of you like a faucet for days.” You nodded desperately moaning for him to cum at the sound of his gruff voice

“Jim, Jim, please. I need your cum, need you to paint my fucking insides white, right now. Now.” At that moment you could feel his thick cock pulsate within your core, his cum shooting straight up into your cervix.

“Fuck, fuck y/n… I’m fucking cumming.” The sweat beaded at your forhead, his own dripping down from his hair onto your back.

He had never felt a high so unfathomably pleasurable, he finally felt like he had accomplished what he always wanted- needed to. You were finally his. 

Pulling out he stretched your cunt, pulling the sensitive, reddened skin apart with his large digits, seeing the art he had created with his milky white cum flowing freely out of your alluring pussy that was still twitching from your orgasm.

Caleb turned and twisted in his bed, the constant strange sounds keeping him up. Deciding to investigate, he grabbed the bat from his room before making his way downstairs only to be blindsided with his own dad intertwined with his now ex-girlfriend whom was covered with hickies on her neck

“What the fuck is this?! How did this-How could-“

“That’s how you treat a woman son. Maybe take notes because let me tell you, she’s a keeper this one.” You smirked on the couch, nuzzling your nose against his chest being fully happy with your decision to sleep with your ex’s father. He was already proving to be more of a man than Caleb ever was.

“Ready for bed love?” Jim held his hand out for you, wrapping his robe around your shoulders while Caleb stood there fuming at the actions of his own father and you, disbelief that you’d go this far, making him question if you ever really gave a shit about him or just dated him for his dad.

[portgasmalia]

❝𝐒𝐀𝐁𝐀𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘❞ ﹙ pairings: law, kid & f!reader ﹚ ﹙ theme: jealousy, smut ﹚ ﹙ info: my current thoughts focus too much on kid & law, can‘t keep the thoughts straight ﹚

❝ 𝐄𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐒 '𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍' 𝐊𝐈𝐃. ❞

﹙ possessiveness, p in v, rough sex, name calling, hair pulling, jealousy like hardcore jealousy ﹚

how kid hated the way you laughed, the way your lips curled towards the corners of your eyes so effortlessly. oh, how much those thoughts turned out to be a lie. the only part of the melodic sound coming from you, kid despised, was who was the reason behind the burst of amusement. sabaody was meant to be the last island before entering the second part of the grand line, the new world. it did not mean to be confronted with the dumbness of another captain. a boy, so young, so naive, and often speaking confusing sentences which tickled a laugh out of most persons. kid did not count as one of them.

his jealousy became the reason of his cruel behavior, skin slapping on skin echoing across the deck of the victoria punk. underarms placed parrallel on the railing, the forehead laid on your wrists. “fucking mine,” the captain behind you groaned, pounding into you harsher. a successful attempt of hiding your face from the passing townsfolk, or any other pirate which already saw your gentle features in daylight and could recognize it in darkness occurred while letting the filthy sounds of pleasure spill from your mouth. but kid wasn't having the disobedience of your actions. his large paw found the back of your head, the calloused fingers grabbing the messed up strands and pulling back. forceful but not painful. “do not dare to hide what i’m doing to you,” kid grunted, punctuating his words with a rather rough thrust. “let those fucking assholes see who’s little slut you are.”

while his words sounded harsh to an outstanding person, kid knew how much you loved his nasty dirty talk. the scenario from the harbor must look discomforting. cherry red dusted over the span of your cheeks, the mouth wide open, needy whines and filthy moans leaving the swollen lips as your body was pressed harshly against the railing. marks on your shoulders and around your waist would stay as a reminder. behind you, the towering shadow of a man. broad shoulders, calloused fingertips pressing deeply into the soft flesh of your hips and the wide, mischievous smirk on kid’s lips accentuated by the bright red of his lipstick. “i hope,” he grunted, the raspy tone coming from deep in his chest. “that elastic boy luffy walks past, and sees me fucking you.“

oh, kid was jealous of goofball luffy. a surprise as you mildly suspected law or zoro.

❝ 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐃. 𝐋𝐀𝐖 . ❞

﹙orgasm denial, possessiveness, p in v, choking﹚

throughout the journey across the first half of the grand line, the islands of paradise, the captain of the heart pirates never felt an intense pinch of jealousy. law always knew you started the journey with him, and you would either finish it with him or die by his side. a promise of love. but reaching sabaody archipelago, the last one before the red line, offered other difficulties. after month of seeing other crews failing, law met people as dangerous as him. the worst generation, the eleven supernovas from nine different crews.

while you loved how much you were able to change the cold-hearted demeanor as soon as entering the private rooms of the polar tang, it always caused a glint of pride when law‘s emotionless facade faltered. and it did in front of the auction house. eyebrows furrowed into a deep thrown, thin lips pressed together tightly and his jaw clenched at the sight. your delicate hands, the slender fingers wrapped ever so lightly around the hilt of that mosshead‘s sword. zoro, the vice captain of the straw hat crew. a dumb fool, but his strength was immense. he stood behind you, a hand placed above yours and his rough fingertips graced your soft skin as zoro showed you how to slash and inflict a wound with the sharp blade. inhaling a deep breath, law forced himself to swallow the thoughts of destruction until you reached the polar tang again.

oh, how the anger boiled in law‘s stomach. you never asked him, never questioned the way he carried his sword, never wanted to learn from him. a burning jealousy in his blood, he already planned the downfall of your night. and accepting the offer from the vice captain was the reason for your current position. sprawled out on the captain‘s bed, ass in the air and the legs already shaking from the intensity of law‘s actions. consequences, that was what he called the harsh slaps of his swords sheath against the soft flesh of your cheeks. each time the material connected with your strawberry-freckled ass became a reminder of your wrong‘s. „you‘re mine. fucking mine alone.“ law‘s words were a raspy mess, growls erupting from deeply within his tattooed chest. „can’t wait to fuck you dumb again. you won’t remember that mosshead.“

the sound of him opening his belt rang in your ears, knowing that your punishment reached its peak soon. and yet, you did not regret luring out the possessiveness of law. at least not at this moment until the soreness conquered your exhausted body and closing your legs was not an option.

[ohtoseni]

like real people do

chapter one

Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x OFC

read it on ao3

the government forces soulmates to be together, no matter what it takes.

it just so happens that eve's soulmates are two bisexual super soldiers.

or,

steve and bucky struggle with their eighteen-year-old soulmate who refuses to settle into her new life after being kidnapped by the government.

tags/warnings: soulmate mark au, forced throuple/poly relationship (f/m/m), extreme age gap, kidnapping, slow burn, dub con, mental health issues (ptsd, audhd, ocd, bipolar, ed), found family, emotional hurt/comfort, sensory overload and meltdowns, eventual smut, tooth-rotting fluff, power imbalance, domestic discipline (spanking as punishment), general teenage angst, daddy dom energy, oral fixation, praise kink, implied/referenced child abuse/csa, kink exploration, p in v sex, oral sex, non sexual age regression, lots of cuddles and snuggles and crying

Tick, tick, tick…

Eve stared blankly at the large vintage clock across the restaurant. It was a dumb impulse purchase by her boss, justified by the fact it vaguely fits the quasi-Italian feel of the restaurant. While the ticks and chimes weren’t as prominent during busy hours, the damned thing drove her nuts whenever it was just Eve closing up.

A glance out the front door revealed the same pouring rain from this afternoon, surely the sidewalks and streets were flooded by now. Groaning, Eve mentally cursed her boss for not letting her get off earlier as she rubbed her temples. The man religiously checked the security systems to ensure the doors were locked at exactly eleven o’clock, not a second earlier.

By now she synced up her nightly exit to the clock’s beat like a countdown. One, two, three ticks to get from the hostess station to the front door, and the loud chime indicating the new hour played the moment her keys entered the lock. It was normally a satisfying feeling when she wasn’t greeted by rain on the other side of the door. Thankfully, Eve only lived just down the road from the restaurant.

Power walking through the storm, she kept a tight hold on her sweatshirt to prevent the hood from flying off her head and to preserve what little body heat she had. Her legs were sore from a long shift, and she had to will them to carry her to her bed for the night. Cars flew down the street, with the occasional asshole splashing her with the water buildup on the street. As the rain kept pouring sideways, Eve gave up on keeping her glasses rain- and fog-free. Her apartment was a straight shot down the main road. Had it been clear out, she would’ve had eyes on the front door from the moment she left the restaurant.

The streetlights above her flickered, until they eventually gave out, shrouding her in darkness. Essentially walking blind, Eve didn’t even know where the sudden arm came from that grabbed and pulled her into the alley. A strong figure in black held Eve against his body, one arm easily wrapped around her torso to keep her arms down, and his calloused hand harshly gripping her mouth. The sudden pressure on her ribs made her gasp out the air in her lungs. She tried her hardest to scream and squirm out of his grip, but her attempts were futile against his strength. The rain only made her grip on the attacker slick. In an attempt to get him to let go, Eve knocked her head backward against his lower jaw, stunning him enough that he removed his hand from her mouth.

“Help! Help! I-“ Eve’s screams were easily muffled by the rain and thunder, but she tried your hardest to be heard by a potential passerby. A couple of screams left her mouth before a fist collided with the left side of her face. Pain radiated through her jaw like lightning before everything faded to black.

———

Everyone had a soulmate out there- a person made just for you. A small mark on your wrist slowly developed around puberty, uniquely yours and your soulmate’s. Young teenagers would compare marks with their crushes, desperately hoping it was a match. They would sit there and point out the smallest curve or dot that matched up, claiming that all the other differences were simply due to stretched skin or a bruise or cut. Eve wasn’t sure if they tried to make it work because they liked each other, or to avoid being put on the draft.

If by the age of eighteen, you hadn’t found your soulmate, you would be placed into a database full of other unmatched individuals. Young people nicknamed it ‘the draft’ due to how frequently the government stalked the website. Stories of people going missing after being put on the draft drifted around school campuses and online communities, not believing the kidnappings were just to unite far-away soulmates. A news headline or two would highlight missing young adults for a day before being expunged from the media.

For years Eve watched her friends and classmates find their soulmates, or innocently imagine what they would look like. As they gushed about love, she would look down at her wrist, empty of any markings. She’d laugh and put on a fake smile, trying to hide the pain of knowing she didn’t have a soulmate.

Eventually, her eighteenth birthday came around, and she was still soulmateless. Throughout the school day, she anxiously rubbed her wrist where the mark should be, wondering how she would be drafted without a mark. The drive to the Soulmate Commission building was long and somber, her hands shaking on the wheel the whole way. The time finally came when they needed to photograph Eve’s mark, and she pulled up her sleeve to reveal two little lines on her left wrist.

“Hmm,” the worker hummed, pulling the camera back ever so slightly. “We’ve never had two marks before.”

As she walked off to get a supervisor, Eve felt her entire body pale. At that moment, she didn’t know if having two soulmates was better or worse than having none. Her stomach dropped, and a twisting feeling in her gut told you to run. Before she could change her mind about registering today, the woman came back, a disgusted look on her face. She took the picture quickly and scoffed as she checked the quality of the photo.

Maybe the stigma of having two was worse.

———

Groaning, Eve lifted a hand to hold her throbbing head. The pain thumping in her skull woke her up after a who-knows-how-long nap, leaving her feeling like absolute crap. She could sense the blinding white light through closed eyes, making it harder to open them. In an attempt to make out where exactly she was, she tried to squint while sitting up.

The room was a blinding white, the natural light of the large windows clashed with the bright overhead lights to create a visual sensory nightmare that made her eyes sting. The more her eyes adjusted, the more the room started looking like some sort of sterile prison. Eve sat on a stiff bed with only a thin white sheet covering her naked body. The scent of antiseptic, the rough texture of her blanket, the sterile air making her throat dry, it was all too much for her senses.

Eve fully sat up, back resting against the cool white brick wall, and pulled the sheet tightly around her body. Maybe she was just dreaming, and this was some far away place from her nightmares. The chill air in the room made the naked girl shiver, reminding her this was very much reality. Her eyes fell onto a chair opposite of the bed- the thought of someone watching her sleep in only a bra and panties felt extremely violating. Footsteps creaked outside of the small room alongside voices hushed by the brick walls. Eve was just about ready to stand up when a door opened suddenly, making her jump back against the wall.

A man in a white coat walked in holding a familiar pink bag. Eve quickly recognized it as her own from her apartment. She tugged the sheet closer as the man greeted her with a smile.

“Eve, how are you feeling?” The man asked, pulling the chair around to the side of the bed before sitting in it. The girl didn’t respond, only suspiciously eyed up the stranger.

“I’m Dr. Kim, the head doctor for the New York Soulmate Commission.” The doctor reached a hand out towards Eve, intending on a handshake, but she only continued to stare him down relentlessly. “Ah, I see.

“I’d like to apologize on behalf of the Commission for how you were handled on your way here. Best believe me, that contractor has been fired.”

“Handled…?” Eve quietly wondered aloud. She had no memory of how she got here. One moment she was locking up the restaurant, the next she was in what she now assumed was a hospital room.

“Nevertheless,” the doctor quickly cut her off, not wanting to elaborate. He continued with his calm, monotonous voice. “I just need to check for some things. Can you follow the light?”

The doctor flashed a small pen light, moving it slowly for Eve to follow. She did as instructed, and replied with a quiet ‘no’ when asked if she had a headache or nausea. Both times she lied, but she didn’t want to remain here any longer.

The doctor finished the quick exam with a smile, and reached over to grab Eve’s bag off the floor. “You should have a pair of clothes and your personal items in here. I’ll give you a minute before sending your soulmates in.”

“My soulmates?”

This was not how she imagined meeting her soulmates would be. In a bland doctor’s office, naked, and not remembering how she even got to New York from Michigan. Eve didn’t even know what day it was. And now she was supposed to meet her lifelong partners? It felt more like being released into the care of kidnappers. In that moment, she felt jealous of her old classmates who easily found their soulmates from within their hometown. They were spared the shame and uncertainty of being left behind by a flawed system.

Once the doctor left the room, Eve opened her backpack and quickly put on the sweatshirt and sweatpants packed neatly in the bag. She rummaged around to find her phone, and noticed her laptop and tablet had been packed as well. As she stumbled upon her headphones and books, the thought of someone breaking into her home to get her belongings dawned on her. Just how much of her life did they go through while deciding on what to pack? Had they been watching her for a while? An unfamiliar sickness filled her as she grabbed her phone from the bottom of the bag before gently pushing the damned thing away.

The phone wouldn’t turn on, as expected. The battery was long dead, and whoever retrieved it must not have bothered to charge it or pack her charger in the bag. Eve threw it back into the backpack before standing up from the bed.

She walked towards the large windows to be met with a beautiful overview of New York City. Her fingers made their way to her mouth, chewing on her fingernails out of nerves and fear. Never once had she visited a city as big as this. Her hometown had a population of only 10,000 people, and her college town had a population a little under 5,000. This was way out of her normal, and Eve did not like it one bit.

A knock at the door made her jump and turn around. Low, muffled voices could be heard from the other side of the door. Her hands remained by her mouth, biting her nails and tugging on her bottom lip to soothe herself. Eve didn’t know what to expect, and felt so exposed even with her baggy clothes on. She felt like an animal ready to meet its slaughter.

“Eve?” A soft, yet strong voice rung out as the door creaked open. Eve’s brown eyes met an unknown pair of baby blues, and immediately she wanted to be anywhere but there. She felt like a deer in headlights, stuck in place and eyes wide in fear. Her gaze never left the two men as they entered the room together.

These two ginormous men were her soulmates.

“Hi, Eve.” The blonde said with a soft smile. He took a few cautious steps forward, stopping once he saw the tiniest flinch from Eve. “I’m Steve, and this is Bucky.”

Steve tried his best to be as non-intimidating as possible, but their size difference alone made him seem like a threat. The girl in front of him barely looked 100 pounds soaking wet, he probably looked like a predator approaching his prey.

“I-I’m Eve…” the girl introduced herself quietly, her hands making her voice mumbled. Bucky couldn’t help but chuckle- this kid managed to be adorable while afraid for her life.

“We know that, doll,” Bucky said, walking more naturally towards her than Steve had with his cautious steps. Eve’s eyes remained trained on Bucky as he leaned against the wall, staring out the window.

Steve, not wanting to further upset the girl who already was on the brink of tears, didn’t make any sudden movements. He cleared his throat so Eve’s eyes would dart back towards him before speaking.

“We’re-“

“Are you the ones that took me?” Eve asked, her voice wavering and cracking near the end. Steve could tell she was not comfortable, not relieved, and not at ease. He could feel their bond yelling at him to comfort her, to hold her and tell her she was safe now. Steve could tell Eve was also fighting that battle- her anxiety heightened as her body told her to get closer, but her brain told her to run as far as she could.

“No, sweetheart. We’re the ones that found you,” Steve tried his best to explain the situation. “We’re going to take you home now.” The blonde super soldier took another step closer to Eve before reaching a hand out to her.

Eve panicked as Steve suddenly entered the bubble of safety she drew up in her mind. Now hyperventilating, she looked desperately around the room for an escape route. She absolutely would not be going anywhere with these men. While Steve and Bucky took a moment to exchange concerned glances, Eve saw that as her opportunity to run. She jumped over the bed and out the door, quickly running down the empty hallway.

The hospital was a maze, Eve kept taking turns in what felt like giant circles. Then again, she didn’t care where she went, as long as she didn’t end up with the strange men. She had to get away. The footsteps behind her were so loud and fast though, making her run quicker than she ever had before. She turned her head to see just how much distance was in between her and them, only to trip over a snag in the carpet and tumble to the ground. Lying there defeated, Eve let the tears flow and her cries loudly break through as she curled up into a ball. Her head grew dizzy as she tried to recover her breath through cries. Seconds later she felt strong hands lift her into the air with sheer ease, making her thrash hard.

Bucky had tried to cut her off on the other side of the hallway, only to watch her fall and eat shit in front of him. His heart skipped a beat, not wanting her to be hurt, especially with how loud her cries grew. Quickly he reached down and threw her over his shoulder, not risking her running off again.

“Let’s go home, troublemaker,” Buck said, securing her down with his metal arm as Eve squirmed and kicked. Steve simply shook his head at the scene, following the two of them out of the building.

Bystanders chuckled and pointed at the scene, it wasn’t every day you saw a grown woman throwing a tantrum over her soulmate’s shoulder. The stares and laughs were shut down by stern looks from Steve and Bucky, their threatening and protective aura immediately ceasing any teasing. The crowd quickly looked away, hurrying on with their tasks.

Eve’s squirms grew more frantic as they reached the exit, her screams raw with panic. “Let me go! I don’t want this! I don’t want you!”

Bucky winced at the words, not wanting to show just how much they hurt him. Steve continued to follow Bucky, his expression softening at just how much this hurt Eve. He spoke up with a quiet intensity, “Eve, we’re not going to hurt you. You’re not a prisoner. We’re here to help you, to get you out of this mess.”

Her chest heaved with each sob, her body exhausted from the panic and fear. Slowly, her resistance lessened as her exhaustion grew, and she stopped fighting Bucky’s hold. Her body continued to tremble and rack with sobs.

The evening autumn air hit them once outside, and the streetlights of New York City illuminated the bustling city. However, it all felt cold and isolating to Eve. Her eyes darted around from the passing cars to the towering buildings, feeling overwhelmed. Her wandering eyes landed back on Steve, who gave a reassuring smile that Eve did not return. This was the last place she wanted to be- out with these strangers in a world she didn’t quite understand.

A black SUV waited for them. Bucky moved towards the back, his arm still securely around Eve. Gently, he adjusted her enough to set her down in the backseat. Her resistance was depleted, and she only stared at the back of the passenger seat with bloodshot, teary eyes. Bucky closed and locked the doors before him and Steve quickly got in with her in the front. The three sat in silence for a moment, taking in the reality of the situation.

Eve fiddled with the door for a moment, tiredly trying to open it before coming to terms that she was locked in for good. Not wanting to be so close to her captors, she moved into the third row seats, creating as much space as she possibly could. She kept her gaze out the window, her arms crossed, closing herself off from any confrontation. She didn’t want to talk nor even think about the idea of letting them in. Every inch of her was screaming run.

Steve glanced back at her from the driver’s seat, speaking softly and more soothing than before. “I know this is a lot to take in, but we need you to trust us, okay?”

“No more running, no more fighting,” Bucky added to try and keep things light while still grounded in reality.

“No, thank you.” Eve didn’t even look at them, her eyes fixed on the passing city lights. She never saw such tall buildings or bright lights before. The car began to move through the streets, the hum of the engine filling the silence.

next ->

[paulyenvol6]

Toxic pt. 2

Contains: Smut, oral (m receiving), hair pulling, p in v, unprotected sex, degrading, choking, gagging, dom and mean Harry, sub reader, fingering, fluff

Wordcount: 2.42k

Masterlist

Y/n felt the breeze in her hair and just hoped it wouldn’t be all messy when she would try to comb it later. And she also prayed she wouldn’t catch the cold and lay sick in bed for the rest of the week. 'Fuck', y/n thought looking at her phone again but there was no notification.

She was sitting by this stupid bench alone on a Friday night. Harry had promised her a 'beautiful romantic date, just the two of us' and she had been surprised. In a very good way.

She had smiled and nodded and told him that it sounded lovely. But then a day later on Thursday Harry had texted her to ask her whether it would be okay if she would just pick him up after his football training and then the two of them could go on a stroll to go to a bar nearby.

Y/n had frowned at her phone, kind of felt the need to throw it against the wall but had agreed. She had been disappointed that a 'beautiful, romantic date' turned out to be a date in a bar but she wanted to give him a chance as she was still charmed by the gesture.

But well, now y/n wondered if it had been a mistake.

Harry had told her to be by the football team house at 7 pm and she had been there at 6:57 pm. When he hadn’t been there at 7:03 she had simply started to count the window panes of the shed that Harry had called a house. At 7:08 y/n had looked around to peek through one of the windows and at 7:16 she had texted him.

She could go in, sure. Harry was only a few feet away from her but you didn’t want to. He had invited her and y/n wouldn’t give in and chase after him.

Now it was 7:29 and she was annoyed. Now and then she could hear some laughter from inside the shed and y/n rolled her eyes. It was a Friday night and she had just spent half and hour in front of a stupid shed waiting for her boyfriend.

'No.', y/n thought. She was 22 years old and supposed to have fun in her life. Fuck this. Fuck his dumb idea of a date. Tonight she wouldn’t think about him. She wouldn’t storm into that shed, embarrassing herself by interrupting him and drag him out of there.

Y/n got up from the bench and took her bag. With a last look at the building she turned around and walked away. 10 minutes later she wasn't so sure about her plans anymore. Y/n didn’t really know where she actually wanted to go. She had walked through the small park next to the football pitch and now stood on a more lively street. She wanted to have fun, so that meant to find herself a warm place because her feet felt like ice by now.

While walking down the street she looked around trying to spot a nice bar or restaurant and then her eyes caught a sign. 'At Peter’s'. Y/n was thinking. That might just be the bar Harry had wanted to take her to. He had mentioned the name on the phone but of course she had forgotten.

But that didn’t matter now, the bar looked nice and y/n really wanted to get inside so she headed right towards it. Once she had entered it she was looking for somewhere to sit and actually spotted a stool at the counter.

Y/n ordered a beer and forced herself not to look at her phone. She had sworn herself not to think about Harry tonight. He had treated her badly, had neglected her and now he didn’t deserve to be the center of her thoughts.

Y/n sipped on her beer and looked around in the bar when she noticed someone sat down to her left. Curiously she turned around and looked right into the eyes of a young man with dark hair and piercing brown eyes.

She almost choked on her drink, so surprised by his gaze and coughed. "I’m sorry.", y/n pressed and the man grinned. "What for?" She chuckled when her breathing had calmed down. "For staring right at you and then almost choke at my beer. I was just startled."

The man smiled and she noticed that he had dimples. Like Harry. No, she couldn’t think about him again. "It’s alright.", the man said. "My name is Nick, by the way." Y/n smiled back at him. "My name is y/n. Very nice to meet you."

He took her hand and softly shook it which made her laugh again. "What brings you here alone on a Friday night?" Y/n rested her elbows on the counter. "Mhmm, I don’t know really. I think I needed a new environment." Nick nodded. "Respectable." "And what about you?"

Y/n rested her chin on the palm of her hands and watched him precisely. He chuckled and watched his hands on the counter. "Will it be enough for you if I simply say the air in my flat was too thin?" She laughed and Nick joined it.

But then he got serious again. "You know, I don’t want to be rude, y/n. If you don’t want any company right now I don’t want to bother you. I just want to make sure you want me to sit here next to you, you know…" "She does not." The voice made her jump and y/n quickly turned around. "Harry!", she said loudly and widened her eyes.

No, no! She was mad at him, she couldn’t feel guilty or scared now. HE was the one who had messed up. HE was the one who should come here and apologise. But the way he stood there. His hair still slightly wet from his shower and he just looked so confident.

She slapped herself mentally and changed her eyes to looking angry. "What was that, Harry? You told me to be there at 7 pm. And half an hour later, no sight of you, no message, nothing!" Harry didn’t look at y/n. He hadn’t looked at her while she had hissed these words but just looked at Nick furiously.

Speaking of, Nick looked from y/n to Harry and he obviously was confused by this situation. "Is… everything fine?" Harry chuckled sarcastically and leaned down to him. „Yes. If you leave this bar right now. And if you’re never gonna look at her again.“

Nick frowned and she could clearly see the fear in his eyes. So he quickly got up, grabbed his jacket not without letting her boyfriend out of sight and then left. "Harry?", y/n asked again but he ignored her. Then he grabbed her upper arm and pulled her with him.

"What the fuck are you doing?", she hissed trying to make him let go of her but his grip was tight. He dragged y/n to the toilets of the bar, into a cabin and locked the door behind her. "What the hell are you doing, Harry?", she pressed and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

It was the first time he looked at her tonight and took a step in y/n's direction. "I don’t want to EVER walk into a bar again and see you talk to another man. Do you understand me?" She raised her chin. "You are the one who – " Harry cut her off by grabbing the side of her face with his right and putting his hand on her mouth with his left.

"Mhmm. No. Wrong answer." He made another step towards y/n and her back hit the wall. He then removed his hand from her mouth and held her neck with it. "You’re mine, y/n. And I don’t like seeing other men toying with what’s mine."

She looked up to him and felt her knees getting weak. Fuck, this wasn’t how she had planned this. How was he able to turn her into a thoughtless mess so quickly? She knew she wouldn’t be able to stay strong if he looked at her like that.

"Say it.", Harry spoke and he ran the thumb of his right hand over her lips. "What?", she breathed. "Say who you belong to." "No.", y/n spit and Harry tightly pressed her against the wall while his hand put a little pressure on her throat. "Yes. You will. Because if you don’t I’ll leave you here and go home alone. And I know that you're little panties are soaked right now and my poor girl is craving my touch."

He lifted her chin. "So go on. I’m listening." God, why was he so good? Who had taught him that? She looked at him with big eyes, begging him to just touch her but he didn’t give in. "I’m yours.", y/n eventually quietly whispered.

"What was that?" "I’m yours Harry." He smirked widely. "Aha. There we go. Good girl." She pressed her thighs together at his words and Harry chuckled. "Just as I thought.", he growled and then roughly spreaded her thighs. "Go on. Touch yourself.", he said and y/n looked up to him surprised.

"Do it." She hadn't expected him to demand her to touch herself and yet she obeyed him. Her shaky hand slid between her legs and under her skirt and her thumb found her clit. "Rub yourself, darling.", he whispered while watching y/n's hand disappear under her skirt.

She began drawing tight circles around her little nub and then after a while Harry's right hand wandered under her shirt. He massaged her boobs and rubbed her nipples between his fingers which made y/n sigh loudly. His left hand crawled up to her throat and he choked her lightly.

"Get on your fucking knees.", he suddenly said and y/n immediately stopped rubbing her clit. Harry pushed her down in front of him and didn't waste another second. He opened his jeans, pulled them down, freed his cock in a matter of seconds and then ran his tip over her mouth.

"Open, you little slut.", he hissed and y/n knew better than to disobey him. She opened her lips and Harry thrusted deep inside her. She needed to cough, felt him trigger her gagging reflex but Harry didn't allow her to get away from his cock.

His hand had grabbed the back of her head tightly and held her in this position. "Don't fight.", he moaned. "Just fucking relax." Y/n tried her best to breathe through her nose and after a while could loosen around his cock.

"Good girl. Yes.", Harry whispered when he felt her calm down and he started to thrust into her mouth. His hand moved her head along to his hips and hit the back of her throat every time. "Fuck. Oh holy shit, your mouth is a fucking… paradise." Harry had thrown his head back and moved her head faster and faster.

Y/n knew him by now and could sense that it wouldn't take him long to reach his orgasm. She felt his thick cock thrust into her mouth over and over again and just when she expected him to shoot his seed into her throat he suddenly pulled out of her and y/n opened her eyes in surprise.

Harry took a fistful of her hair and pulled her up. Without saying a word he turned her around and pressed her to the wall while lifting her skirt. "Harry.", y/n moaned and blindly reached behind so he would take her hand but Harry simply pressed it to the wall. "Shut up.", he groaned and then ran his cock through her folds.

She was incredibly wet and Harry grinned against the back of her head. "You're a little whore, do you know that?", he whispered against her ear. "Getting soaked from getting your mouth fucked." Y/n whimpered when his cock hit her clit and shifted nervously so Harry smacked her ass. "Stop moving around." Y/n nodded quickly.

She just wanted him to fill her hole and couldn't wait for him to finally enter her. And he did, with one deep thrust he stretched her walls and both moaned loudly. Harry started to slam inside of her and y/n pressed her hands to the wall in an attempt to hold on to something. "Mhmm.", she made and felt her knees getting weak.

Harry's hand reached around her body and his hand wrapped around her throat. He lightly choked her and she felt a little dizzy from all this stimulation. Because Harry's other hand had started to make its way between her thighs and he rubbed at her clit. "Harry. Please…", she whined but her voice sounded a bit croaky due to the hand around her neck that restricted the air coming to her lungs.

Harry was relentless with his pace and he fucked her hard and deep against the wall. She felt him so deep inside her and in combination with his hand on her clit she felt like she was about to explode.

"Harry…", she whined and his hand around her neck wandered to her mouth. "Shut it. You're gonna make the whole bar hear you." Now she moaned against his mouth and after a few more moments y/n felt the knot in her stomach tightend pleasure washed over her.

"Shit.", she shrieked and luckily her noises were supressed by Harry's hand. Feeling her clench around him sent him over the edge as well and he came with a deep growl. Y/n could feel his seed filling her up and know her knees really would have given in if Harry hadn't held her at her waist.

He breathed a few times deeply trying to recover from the high and then he pulled out of her. Y/n couldn't see what he was doing but then Harry turned her around and stroke her cheek. He smirked and kissed her swiftly on her lips.

He had adjusted his own trousers and now grabbed a paper tissue, got it wet and cleaned y/n's pussy. His cum was leaking out and running down her thighs and it definitely would've been suspicious if she had walked out like that.

Then Harry pulled up her panties and adjusted her clothes. Y/n herself was too fucked out and powerless to do anything so she just let her boyfriend take care and it honestly felt good that he took cared of her. After Harry was finished he took her hand. "Come.", he said softly. "What are we doing?" "We're going on our date."

[grits-galraisedinthesouth]

20 minutes of my life I'll never get back. 🤦‍♂️

I must be a glutton for punishment because I actually watched Kinsey Schofield's 20 min interview w/Valentine Low. May this rant save you from making the same mistake:

Valentine Low & Kinsey Schofield just reminded me that the British press is in desperate need of a grief recovery workshop to let go of their palace manufactured PR image of Sparry, "the CONSERVATIONIST," and accept the REALITY: Sparry has ALWAYS been a member of the lost boys who never intend to grow up. He loves drugs, perverted soho house sex play pens, and living a secret lifestyle in San Francisco, CA. As we saw in the South Park Documentary, Sparry has always wanted to be left alone so he can just bang on his drums all day.

The British media needs to accept that they never knew the Sparry aka Prince Harry. Much like Fergie & Andrew: The Meghans are two (2) intellectually below average individuals who married in haste. Both their academic & professional work histories indicate that these two (2) immature adults, lack even the basic skills necessary to function in society without the help of a PR "machine" whose job is to clean up their messes and repeatedly rebrand them into more acceptable members of polite society. It's past time for Valentine Low and other UK journalists to admit that they never really knew Sparry. All their Diana goodwill should now be invested into the future of the BRF (the family of Prince William)

No amount of hoping for the best or "covering up" for Sparry's misdeeds can transform the moral rot in his character. They bought and sold the PR image manufactured by the palace. It was the paparazzi & other "undesirables" who had the misfortune of observing the REAL Sparry. They watched him mistreat drivers, security, staffers, etc long BEFORE he was seduced by MEgain.

V Low believes Sparry flew a helicopter! 😳 Come on! Too many REAL service members have spoken out about Sparry's military character and performance and there's nothing good about it.

Sparry, like his wife is also a liar and a bully. He's not intellectually bright, he never was... He even bullied his grandparents before the "spectacle," he bullied Meghan's father...we heard reports about seeking a left wing wife and his interest in living in the US----all before MEgain.

Low also thinks Sparry loves his children. Has Valentine Low ever seen the invisibles? No. He's transferred a PR image to a couple of never before seen kids and their so called father. A so-called "father" who is willing to destroy his brother's children (and the innocent children of other couples) through the spread of destructive lies, has zero interest in the REAL wellbeing of anyone's kids, least of all his own.

As for the Wife: her ability to earn a college degree as an American teenager/young adult without even the offer of an ACADEMIC scholarship means that she too is mediocre and overrated. Her university commencement program states that she was a candidate for a degree in "communications" NOT some whip smart area of study like biochemistry or engineering! 🤦‍♂️

As a university student, thanks to her dad's brother (mike), she spent a measly six (6) weeks in Argentina on an exchange program (paid by her father) until she failed an exam that would have allowed her to apply for (real) jobs in the States. An intellectual or any hard worker would have studied until she passed the test. Not Rachel Meghan Markle. If no one was willing to make an exception for her low marks, then she would whore her way up a series of ladders until she found someone dumb enough to give her a platform.

No, this is NOT a "smart" couple. This couple is a cautionary tale about how Water seeks it's own level: Sparry's mother and teachers did him a disservice, just as MEgain's father did her a disservice: SPARE the rod & SPOIL the child

Kinsey believes that MEgain is "smart" because she achieved a Duchess title. (What does this tell us about Kinsey's IQ. 🤦‍♂️😳)

MEgain became a "Duchess" because she was a professional "seductress" employeed by Markus Anderson & Soho House. Everything this couple achieves is smoke & mirrors based on TRANSACTIONAL relationships where they bully & harass anyone standing in their way.

They don't even possess good work ethics, let alone above average IQs. Please call a spade a spade (or in this case a spare a spare) and stop gaslighting the public about what Sparry could have done had he not been involved with the wife.

We watched the wife verbally abuse KP staffers over bereavement flowers and feckless Sparry stood by in AGREEMENT. Wicked queen Jezebel 2.0 and traitorous king ahab 2.0. Let them go!

[marshmallowprotection]

“Hey, Saeran?” 

"Yes? What is it, my love?"

As you shut off the television and turned away from the news, there was a sense of anxiety and worry that wouldn't go away even as the monitor went dark. That undying intrusive thought that told you how horrible things would become in a matter of hours, if not days, reared its ugly head again. You didn't want to feel that way, nor did you want to let the sensation of despair take away the last shred of your sanity, but the more you sat with those fears, the more terror you felt.

Cradling your pillow close to your chest, you asked, "How did you find a reason to hope when everything else said otherwise?"

You couldn't help but feel curious about what he might say about it. Mint Eye gave him every reason to despair, to give up on himself, and yet, he didn't. Despite everything they threw at him, he continued the arduous journey of living in a false paradise that intended to get rid of him one day when most people in his shoes would've surrendered to the agony to escape their suffering.

On the surface, you understood the concept of Saeran's feelings. The way he must've felt when he knew he had to adapt to survive a living hell, and how heavy the burden it became when it shattered his heart to ribbons. He... didn't have another choice when Rika took him from the cathedral she found him in. If he didn't submit to her whims, he'd never see the sunrise or sunset again.

He survived purely on dumb luck, and because he fought for so long to make her think he believed her lies when he couldn't tell left from right. You knew when people were faced with no other choice but to do whatever they could to survive, they would, and they would try to do everything within their power to make do.

Saeyoung had done the same thing, actually. He made the best of his own nightmare within those hellish agency walls. The RFA became a place for him to breathe far away from those who dared to make him live with a target on his back, but it wasn't true freedom from the fear he'd known since he and his brother were little boys.

Luck was what helped those boys survive everything they suffered as boys and young adults, and as happy as you were to be with them on the other side of that pain, you wondered how they found hope in all of it. You knew they had no choice and they did the best they could in a horrible situation, just as anyone would, but how did the hope they experienced feel on a personal level?

What did Saeyoung use to feel hopeful when he couldn't focus on the promise Rika and V made him? What hope did Ray or Saeran find in a cesspool of torment that lied to them to see the next day? Even if you had a rough notion of their feelings, your queasy stomach couldn't do the same for your own nerves.

The kind of hope you wished you could find again... the hope that saw them through their worst nightmare. You wanted to find that hope for yourself again.

In all honesty, you weren't all that different from them.

You had no choice but to find hope in whatever place you could when you were younger, and you managed to scrape by with whatever you could find, even if it felt like you were grasping at breadcrumbs for a taste of something sweet and warm to stave off the misery.

It worked for a while, and you believed in your heart that things would someday become better and the memories of the bitter past would fade away... like footprints in the sand.

But, something changed since those years you felt like you could hope for the better, and that something chipped away at what you wanted to believe in. Life wasn't a fairytale, and things couldn't be neatly contained with a bow and ribbon. Granted, that didn't mean you had nothing to hope, dream, or look forward to. There were so many things in this world you were happy to see on the horizon, yet, plenty more that left you feeling hopeless at the same time.

You weren't sure there was a perfect answer to your question, but you knew Saeran would try his best to find one to ease your heart.

Taking the spot at your side, Saeran wrapped his blanket around your shoulders so you could curl into him. "If you would've asked Ray this question, he would've told you that you were his hope, or rather, the idea of you gave him hope. Rika promised him that you would be his after you tested the messenger and he would never have to hack or hurt people ever again. His hope... was built off a fantasy he built for himself. If he doubted himself, he imagined being close to you to see himself to the next day."

You knew Ray had preconceived notions of you before you met, but only when he realized you were more than his daydream did he truly start to fall in love with you, and you with him in return. He survived that terrible place because he could dream of you and a future filled with peace... even if he knew it had every chance to backfire.

"Saeran, on the other hand, would've told you that he didn't have any hope left to spare. He had to give all of his hopes and dreams to Ray because Rika told him he was a weapon and a weapon alone. Ray could dream, and that's why he struck out against you so hard in the beginning. If Ray couldn't be hopeful, neither could he. Yet, he realized he still had hopes and dreams when he was with you, and he knew if he was honest with himself, Rika would hurt him like she hurt his Ray."

Saeran, ever the strongest because he had no choice, wanted to be with you as much as you wanted to be with him, but he largely had no choice but to play along with Rika's games. He couldn't deny his heart any more than Ray could, and it nearly cost them their lives at Rika's hand.

They never abandoned hope despite everything pleading with them to let go.

You sought out his hand and held it close to your heart. You wanted him to feel it. "And, you? What about you, my love?"

"I've realized that... Hope isn't something we find in one person, it's not found in some outstanding fantasy, either. Hope is what we find in the little moments that make life feel worth it. When you smile at me from the other side of the room, when we can go on a date and see a film together at the movies, when you bring me a drink while I'm knee-deep in the garden, and... the list goes on. Hope is something we can all experience if we choose to enjoy the little moments just as much as we indulge in the fantastical ones."

The little things, huh?

"I guess... I've been so focused on the big things that I've lost sight of the importance of moments like this," you looked down at your lap as his honesty washed over you. "It's overwhelming, Saeran. I want to be able to enjoy moments like this but it's difficult to breathe knowing... knowing how difficult things are going to become for everyone. I am aware of the fact that it's not wrong to take care of yourself before... before you take care of others, but right now, it feels like my hope is the last thing that anyone needs to worry about."

Saeran shook his head. "On the contrary, my love. Hope is what helps people in their darkest moments. Even if what they hope for sounds... I don't know, silly. You need to be able to hope for something—to feel like those little moments matter—otherwise you'll fall into despair. Do you remember how V and Rika were near the end? They both gave up on themselves, preferring to live in denial than face the truth. They said they had no hope left to spare, but that... that was because the two of them decided they didn't deserve it."

You hadn't thought about them in a while. But, Saeran wasn't wrong about them. You knew you were worthy of hope, just as much as any other person was, but that fear of not doing enough for others when you, yourself, needed to be taken care of, too, was what struck them in the foot. They'd deserved it but they ran away from outstretched hands until the very end when Saeran extended his instead.

You were scared, and by God, you were tired, too. You didn't want to run away but you didn't know how to handle any of the feelings that came with this dread.

"...Do you think I can find the strength to hope again, Saeran?"

"I know you will," he said in that earnest voice that made you fall in love with him in the first place. "Because I'll be right there with you every step of the way. Your hope is mine, and my hope is yours. We will see a brighter tomorrow, I have no doubt about that, but... we'll also see a bright day today, because hope exists for the present, too, just as much as the future."

[soggyriceee]

of course !!! literally been re-reading your stuff all night- !! it’s just so good 🫶🏾🫶🏾

your request are open so can i request jealous price ? (completely fine if not)

~🐰 (< that’s me)

His Princess | Price NSFW

<omg thank you bunny (I hope your okay with the name)! ofc I loved writing this and I hope you enjoyed it just as much <33 >

summary: some new intern at your job seemed to take a liking to you. John however, didnt find that too amusing and shows you, and him, who you belong to

warnings: unprotected p in v, dirty talk, jealous Price, established relationship, implied age gap, female!reader overstimulation, porn

・❥・

Price never got jealous. what was there to be jealous of? he treated you like a princess, cooked for you, wrote you poems no matter how cringe they may be. he was there for every important moment in your adult life and supported you at your lowest. but aside from the romantic and gentle factor, he fucked you really, really well.

and he knew it. he knew how good he made you feel and wasn't worried about not making you feel good. no, he never worried about it. but what he did worry about, was this new guy. Chris. he was young, like you. tall, fit, smart. oh and of course, wasn't a war criminal. it got to him. seeing him walk you out, or text you asking questions he was "too dumb to figure out" during your guys' intimate moments. it made him wanna take your phone and smash it every time his initials popped up on your phone.

but he knew you didnt see this Chris guy that way. you were in love with him, and only him.

but tonight, tonight he couldn't hold keep his jealousy secret.

he picked you up at the usual spot, just outside your office. he waited patiently for you to walk out, already expecting to see Chris following behind you. so when you both came out together he paid little mind. that was until he saw Chris's arm slip around your waist, pulling you in for a hug.

almost immediately he felt his ears and neck turn red with anger, biting his inner cheek with so much force it hurt. but it was all numbed by the jealousy he felt. who was he to touch whats his? his princess?

what made it worse was that you didnt deny the hug. you hugged him back. around the waist, but it didnt matter. it was a form of affection, a form of affection only John thought he got from you. a form of affection he believed only he was able to get.

so when you slid into his passenger side, kissing his cheeks and hugging his neck, he pulled away. "John? why are you acting like that?" you asked, placing your purse in the back seat and kicking off your heels off. he said nothing, pulling out of the driveway while watching Chris get in his own car, keeping mental notice of his black Nissan Altima.

the car ride was silent. you could tell something was wrong by the veins popping from the side of Johns neck, but also his new silence. he was never silent. not unless he was mad. really mad. and it made you nervous because John was a very vocal man. if he was upset at you for something he told you exactly what it was and why. he didnt believe in silent treatment and wills scold you if you give it to him.

so his newfound silence worried you. deeply.

as he pulled into the apartment garage you timidly grabbed your things, scared to even look at him. you didnt want to know what was on his mind, you were terrified. "when we get inside, go straight to the room. im not asking im telling." he said calmly, grabbing the keys from the ignition. you didnt reply, but simply turned to open the door, stepping out.

you followed him like a lost puppy, scared of disobeying anything he had to say. opening the door, John stood to the side, allowing you in first. once you were in, you turned to John, attempting to talk. to say something. "I don't wanna hear it. do as you're told and nothing less." he said, kicking his military boots off, continuing the no eye contact.

with your head hanging low you made your way to the room. was it something you said? maybe he was just having a bad day. but.. why take it out on you? as you made it to the room John followed not to far behind and was quick to slam the door. you jumped, turning to him. his face was still red with anger, his eyes not the same kind, gentle ones he always gave you. no, no these were dark, angry eyes. eyes that told you he wasn't going to show any mercy on you.

"undress. now." he said, his eyes never leaving your frightened ones. you complied, moving your hands to unbutton your shirt, dragging your skirt down not too long after. so there you stood, almost naked in front of this man. "bed." he said, nodding his head towards it. again you complied, sitting on the edge of the bed. you couldn't lie, as much as you were scared, you were also turned on. his dominance always had you going bonkers and he knew that. but this time it seemed like he was genuinely angry with you, and his dominance was not for your own satisfaction.

he walked to the dresser, pulling out a few things. one of those being your dildo you used while he was away. a bright red rushed to your cheeks as he threw it on the bed beside you. "lay back, on the pillow. now." he said, unzipping his sweater he had on and tossing it to the side, exposing the white tank top he had on under. he watched you, scramble to the pillow and lay on your back, looking over to him with those big round eyes. he loved it. it almost made him break. but he couldn't shake the image of that mans arm around your waist, pulling you into him.

he crawled onto of you, spreading your legs. he grunted at the wet spot that was on your panties, looking up at you. "you find this amusing? making me angry?" he asked, hooking his finger under your panties and pulling them from your pussy. you sighed at the cool air hitting your wet pussy, shaking your head. "looks like it." he said, taking his thumb to your clit, applying a generous amount of pressure. you whimpered at his touch, squeezing your eyes shut.

he was right. angry John was hot. it turned you on. made a puddle in your panties. he rubbed his thumb in slow, slow circles, watching your hips jerk up, begging for more. "stop fucking moving." he growled, gripping your hip and pinning it to the bed. again, he goes in small, slow circles.

you couldn't take this. you both knew it. but he was angry. livid. he didnt want to reward you for being a slut, now would he? " he's handsome, isn't he?" John finally asked, watching your pussy clench and unclench. you peeled your eyes open, looking up at him. "w-what?" "you heard me." he growled, shifting his gaze to you. "c-chris? he's just a friend John I-" your breath was cut short when he slid two fingers into you, a gasp sliding out from you. he tilted his head, feeling your pussy grip onto his fingers. "just a friend who wants to fuck you." price retaliated, sliding his fingers out slowly, looking at all your wetness on his fingers.

you couldn't say two words before his fingers slammed back into you, a cry of both pain and pleasure coming from you. "j-john~" you cried out, gripping his forearms. moving his fingers faster, he leaned down, sucking the skin of your neck, leaving dark and big marks. a symbol that you were his and his only. from his lips on your neck to his fingers slamming in and out of your dripping cunt, you felt your eyes roll to the back of your head. "John~ it f-feels so good." you whimpered, back arching from off the bed.

"yea? im so glad baby.." he said, but something in his tone made you second guess if it was genuine or not. he raised himself from off you, grazing his free thumb over the markings, pressing onto the ones that were darkest. "so fucking glad.." he whispered, trailing his eyes up to you.

his fingers moved faster, hitting your g spot exactly each time. the knot you felt in your stomach quickly became undone, your cum coating his fingers and dripping don to his wrists. he smiles for a moment at the mess you made, but it quickly falls. you feel his fingers move again, a gasp slipping from you. "j-john hold on p-please." you cry out, trying to move back and off his fingers. but he growls and holds you down, halting any movements that you make. "this is what sluts get. you wanna go and flirt with other guys, im gonna make sure you never do so much as breathe around him by the end of tonight." he growled, slipping a third finger in.

you groaned at the feeling of you being stretched, a slight pain hitting you every time he moved his fingers back in. "take it. I know you can." he said, watching at tears brimmed your eyes. your mind was fuzzy and coherent sentences was the last thing you could form. quickly you felt the knot return in your stomach, trying your hardest to move back. but his grip was too strong, he had you exactly where he wanted you.

your legs shook and toes curled as your second orgasm happened, your body jerking forwards from the pleasure. "thats it.. thats my good girl.. my princess." he whispered, moving his fingers slowly and enjoying the noises your pussy made for him.

breathlessly, you tried to speak but he shushed you. "don't speak." he said. as he slid his fingers out he reached for his next assault weapon. your dildo. he slapped it on your thighs, sighing. "if only he didnt have to hug you. I could be treating you like the good girl I know you are love." he said, a fake frown upon his lips. you looked up at him, hooded eyes and parted, wet lips, hoping he'd show any mercy. but he wouldn't. not any time soon.

grabbing one of your legs he pulled it up into your chest, aligning the dildo tip at your entrance. "j-john please-" before you could say a work he slammed it into you, a cry coming out from you. your leaned forward, gripping his biceps to try and help the pain. but it didn't. especially since he immediately went to slamming it in and out of you.

he loved this angle because he knew it hit the deepest part of you. the part he always made sure to hit repeatedly if he wanted you a blubbering mess. "its good huh? I bet your imagining it being his cock huh?" he said, gripping your face and forcing you to look up at him. "tell me. you're thinking about him fucking you right now, aren't you?" he asked again, gripping your face harder.

but you shook your head frantically, tears brimming your eyes. the toy kissed your cervix ever so slightly, broken whimpers and cries leaving you. but he loved it. he loved seeing you so broken and disheveled. he loved knowing that he was doing that to you, not some coworker of yours. he looked down, watching the thick toy slide in and out of you with ease, bubbles of your slick popping up every now and then.

"oh you love this dont you. look how wet this pussy is love.. your fucking enjoying it." he whispered, licking his lips. he slowed the movements down, wanting to take in just hot wet you really were. it made the hard on in his pants hurt more, taking his free hand and unbuckling his pants to relieve some of the pressure. he moaned at the slight feeling of freeness, shifting his attention back down to you.

" you think you deserved to get fucked baby? tell me, honestly." he said, sliding the dildo out slightly before sliding it right back in. despite your efforts to reply to him, you couldn't form words. your head was fuzzy and your words came out incoherent. "whats that princess?" he chuckled, halting the dildo. opening your eyes and looking up at his mischievous ones, you mumbled, "yes.. p-please.."

he slid the soaked dildo out, a string of slick coming from you. he moaned at the sight, palming himself through his pants. "fuck lovie... imma fuck you so badly. fill you up with this cum." he growled, quickly sliding his pants down, pulling his hard on through the hole in his boxers. the tip dripped with pre cum, his tip red. you whimpered at the sight, bucking your hips up. he smiled at the sight, shaking his head. "needy slut."

pulling your knees to your chest, he aligns the tip to your hole, looking down at it. the mix of your slick and his pre cum almost made the tip slide right in. but e was quick with it, pulling away. "fuck your wet.. does he make you this wet baby? tell me. tell me he makes you this wet." as much as you wanted to say the truth, you felt like lying would make him fuck you even harder.

"y-yes.. he does." you said meekly, not looking directly into his eyes. but you felt his eyes on you. you felt the anger radiating off of him. " say it again. with your chest this time." he whispers, fingers digging into the sides of your thighs. so, looking up at him from between your thighs, you repeated yourself. "he made me this wet.. " you said.

the look on his face went from angry to something more than angry. something you couldn't even describe. "where's your phone. give it to me now." he said, letting your thighs go. you hesitated but leaned over the bed, grabbing your fallen phone. you handed it to him and he snatched it, shoving you back to where you once were.

"wanna act like a no good slut, imma fuck you like one." he said, facing the phone down to your cunt. you tried to retaliate but he slammed his dick into you, a yelp leaving you. he hissed, gripping your thigh, nail marks following behind. immediately he went in with a fast pace, bending you so your knees now rested beside your head.

never had John gotten jealous. not that he's shown you. and he's never recorded you guys fucking. he thought it was a personal thing between you both. he also didnt want others seeing your perfect body. " you like this, huh? you like getting fucked on camera?" he asked, holding the phone down to record his dick sliding in and out. the room filled with both your noises, skin slapping and the wet sounds of your pussy and his dick making contact.

"J-John~ please" you whimpered, gripping the sheets below you. his tip hit your cervix directly, tears forming in your eyes. "please what? you think you deserve shit right now? huh?" he grabbed your face, forcing you to look up at the camera. "say hi Chris." he said, picking up the pace slowly. you whined, clenching around him despite the embarrassment you felt taking over you. " say hi. dont be rude." he smiled above you, shaking your head side to side gently. "h-hi.. hi Chris." you whimpered, looking up at the camera.

John grunted, moving the camera back to your cunt. he watched you from the camera, moving his hands from his face to your clit, rubbing circles. " you gonna cum again love? I know you want to." he said, shifting his gaze to your twisted face.

he moved one of your legs to lay straight, the other still pressed onto the mattress. he almost came at the sight of his bulge in your lower stomach. "fuck~ J-john im gonna c-cum" you cried, already feeling the wobbliness of your legs coming back. "cum baby. show Chris who makes you cum. show him.. I know he wants to see." he said. moving deeper inside you, slowing down a bit.

your body was on fire, your slick dripping from your pussy despite his dick filling you up. your mind was hazy and you tried your best to focus on John, but you couldn't stop your eyes from rolling back. couldn't stop the drool coming from your mouth. it made a whimper slip from John's lips, the look on your face making his dick twitch. "im close baby.. im so close." he whispered. he held the phone at your connecting sexes, wanting to record the cum pouring from your cunt.

"come on baby. cum. cum for me I know you can do it. be my good little princess and cum all over.. fuck" he watched the cum spurt out of you, some getting onto the camera lens, most of it getting onto his abdomen. tears flowed out your eyes, broken cries coming from your plump lips. he gasped, feeling his own cum shooting out of him at the sight, no matter how hard he tried to hold it back. it was too much for him.

his hips jerked forward, the phone dropping to the bed, his hands pressing on the wall for support. his hips moved back into yours, riding out both your high and his. whimpers left his lips along with heavy pants. "f-fuck" he growled, his body slowly dropping to your. slowly he leaned for the phone, stopping the video. you heard 'sent' ding coming from your phone, realizing he was recording the whole time. "John you cant send that.. its sexual-" "ill kill him if he gets you fired for this." he said, looking down at you.

you knew he was serious. it made you clench around him. he chuckled, kissing your cheek and slowly pulling out before sliding back in, forcing his cum into you. " keep it in there." he whispered, looking up at you with hooded eyes. you smiled, nodding slowly. "I will." you smiled, hugging his neck. he sighed, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"im sorry princess. im got carried away." he said after a moment of silence. you shook your head, kissing the top of his head. " dont apologize. im sorry I let him hug me. I dont think that'll happen anymore." you chuckled. he smiled and nodded, kissing the top of your covered breasts. " I love you princess. so much." he whispered, resting his chin on your chest, looking up at you. you back, running your fingers through his slightly messy beard. "I love you more."

[b4mpyre-k1zz3s]

hello!!! i love your writing sm, i have a silly but 👀 request!!

age gap! yn x current johnny where yn is a mid/late 20s singer who is v famous (and v beautiful) and admits on a talk show that her first crush was johnny knoxville and she loved jackass when she was a kid and she still thinks he’s hot to this day and the clip goes viral. like so viral that it reaches johnny and he keeps getting asked about this hot young popstar crushing on him very publicly and he’s like obviously very into it but also flustered on how to answer 😭😭😭

to milk the moment a bit more johnny and his team invite her to do some sort of video (youtube? tiktok? you pick!) as a mini jackass revival. maybe steve-o is there too LMAO that’s totally up to you. but the tension in the video is….a lot 👀 comments are only about their looks to each other and behavior around each other 👀👀 maybe they fucked, maybe they didn’t. the general public speculates they did but they will never know. nothing is ever confirmed ofc.

the end is up to you 💖💖 do they or don’t they??

love your writing, hope you enjoy this request <33

Love in Hollywood

After a secret Y/N let slip goes viral on the internet, she gets the chance of a life time to meet her idol. Little does she know, she is exactly what Johnny needs.

Johnny Knoxville X Popstar!Y/N

(Fluff, Angst)

1.7k Words

Warnings: Suggestive content, legal age gap, power dynamics, masochisim mention, flirting, kissing, alcohol

An: Thank you for the request!! I would have never guessed Popstar!Y/N would be such a popular troupe! I think this fic is really well rounded in terms of emotional content (no spoilers!), and a bit more structured than em previous work if that makes sense? Anyways, thank you again and please keep requesting!

The stale air that swam in that sketchy apartment was illuminated with this septic, light strip purple glow. Internally cringing at yourself, you made painful small talk with those two hosts who seemed dead set on ruining your image. But that’s how most video podcasts go, right?

“No- no, hear me out!” In vain, you tried to explain yourself, “You saw him in the thing with the ball pit? With- with the snake, an’ the blood all dripping down his arm? Oh my god- that sounds so weird, but his muscles-! Just…” Oh, it was hopeless. That’s it, show’s over- pack up and go home.

The one chick was all veneers as she spoke up with this mean, highschool girl lilt in her voice, “Really? Like- outta anybody, you pick the one who gets hit in the nuts for a living?” You felt that metaphorical kick in the ribs. Shifting in the stiff, plastic chair, you kissed the idea of ever being taken seriously as a musician goodbye with a stiff upper lip. See, you always liked Johnny. You really liked him.

There was a depth you found in this man that the general public seemed to neglect for the whole dumb stuntman image. Call it para-social, call him your muse…“That's what happens when you watch Jackass at a formative age!” Blushing, you tried to play it off with humor and save yourself from sounding like some insane fangirl by giving some context, “He was, like- my first crush!”

The more discerning of the two hosts paused for a stagnant second, leaning in conspiratorially, “Okay, okay. If you had to pick: Johnny then, or like- Silver Foxville?” If someone told you this morning that you were gonna be asked that question on record, you would've never believed them.

I mean, if you said Johnny was hotter in the 2000’s, that's basically saying he’s less hot now, which you didn’t mean- but for Christ’s sake, the man was twice your age! Hello? Alarm bells? “That is a hard one…” Making a show of mulling it over in your head, you let out a hiss through your teeth, “I gotta say, he’s hotter now.”

Compare that seemingly insignificant omission you made a week ago, and how quickly it was plastered across Tik Tok, Reels, Shorts- you name it- to the beginning of that podcast episode, when you were discussing your upcoming album and how you spilled the big star who that promotional single about heartbreak was really about. Nooo, the hot word on the street was that Y/N was fiending over the old man.

The thunk of Johnny’s phone vibrating off of his bedside table woke him up. He couldn't guess when it was, but the bedroom in his Hollywood Hills pseudo-villa, and the cold space next to where he laid was still dark. Fishing around on the carpet, Knoxville squinted in the light of his screen. As best as he could see without his glasses, it was messages and emails from online tabloids asking about…some girl?

Oblivious to the source of the sudden media onslaught he was receiving, Johnny decided to reach out to one of his more tech savvy friends. “Dude- it’s everywhere!” Steve animatedly explained over the phone, far too chipper for this early in the morning. According to him, this hot, young singer chick was totally into him!

Sure, he’d lost those drunk dark circles around his eyes, but Johnny knew his body had undeniably seen better days: days with less greying hair, days when he woke up and didn’t look- or feel- like he was falling apart. Three kids and two divorces in, Knoxville decided to settle. Rubbing his eyes, he mumbled as he tried to find the time on the ceiling, “Yeah, real rich…I’ll believe it when I see it, O.”

Out of his league didn’t even begin to describe it. Even after watching that video, seeing the light glimmer in your eyes and the blush dance across your cheeks, the weight didn't really sink in until Johnny got that email from his manager. His past few movies were straight to streaming flops. This could be a real career revival- just a couple YouTube videos…

You had to stare at him for a moment, eyes wide as the coffee rings littering the countertop. In person, Johnny shone like all those movie awards he never won. You looked at him as if he were the sun, utterly drunk and blinded by B-list star power. Double his net worth and you were practically falling off your stool, stammering in that little boy lost at the zoo voice, “Ohmygod, you're really here...”

Admittedly less than you, Johnny was surprised as well upon first meeting you. In all your social media posts, you weren't half the woman shaped mass of raw nerve endings that sat across from him at that cafe table- and believe me, he had seen all of them. Trying to pretend he wasn’t at least a little flattered, Knoxville replied with cobbled together wit, “I am!” Yeah, real slick, buddy…Flashing you that charming, lopsided smile, Johnny’s flustered laugh just about made you melt. “So, uh- your manager was talkin’ about maybe doin’ a music video?”

Over a few cups of coffee, you tossed ideas back and forth with him, trying so hard not to make it weird. Inevitably, you did. But he started to see right through to those trembling hands- those big, awe filled eyes that gazed up at him while Johnny showed you some stunt concepts he’d jotted down.

When he was your age- Christ, that makes it sound so bad- women at bars would stub cigarettes out on his arm to flirt. That is if they didn’t punch him. So Johnny found you finding excuses to brush against his skin and those big goldfish eyes you flashed whenever you forgot yourself, a little endearing. Refreshing, in the middle of that little dry spell that comes with pushing fifty. “I, uh- I can’t believe I’m really here with you- working with you,“ you admitted, taking a sip to muffle your words, “just cause I said I had some…crush on you…”

It was sweet, and vulnerable, and you won over his heart just like that. Quickly however, you changed the subject, “So, uh- what day works best?”

Outside of the professional conversation, you knew Knoxville was entirely sure of how his words affected you. The glint behind his glasses, that coy little smile- you knew his tells. And for the next month, you went about the motions that come with making music videos, all the while internally fawning over Johnny like some lovesick puppy. He was dredging up some long dormant feelings in you! Sure, on set you held it together on set, but the second you got home, you turned into some giggling teenage girl, doodling hearts around his name in a diary…well, maybe not that, but you get the idea.

In the comments, you imagined Johnny’s return to stunt work would stirr speculation on a return to the Jackass franchise, or that people would be talking about how hot you looked in that skin tight little dress (which you knew you did). What you didn’t think was that they would be speculating on your relationship- yes, relationship. It was the glances, the body language. There was this tangible chemistry that was so blatantly obvious on camera. Talk all they want, the general public was not privy to how you developed that on screen relationship.

Leaning against the sticky bar top, you squinted through the heat lamp red lights hanging over your head. “Johnny- can I call you that?” As a very casual drinker, you felt out of place in the kind of sordid, cozy little joints Knoxville hadninvited you out to for the past month. In contrast, he could not feel any more at ease, passing you that cool line, “You can call me whatever you like, sweetheart.” This man was so painfully nonchalant about messing with you…Flush crept up your neck and kissed at your ears.

You were now familiar with the way booze drew out that version of him you knew when you were younger. Those gnarled converse and the anti-paparazzi ray bans he’d started sporting since filming began helped sell it.

The night went on, and two vodka crans later, you began relenting the public reception regarding the video. Immediately, Johnny leapt to your defense, “It’s a good song!” And then you, “You did some great stunts!” Knees bumping against each other, you had to lean your body into his in order to be heard- smelling his cologne, feeling that natural, human warmth, “And- and you looked great.”

Newly emboldened, but still timid under his gaze, you choked through your words, swallowing them before they could hit your tongue. On TV, you presented yourself as this bold, witty, creative artist, but Knoxville found keen satisfaction watching you fruitlessly grope for the flirty note.

Smirk dropping from his face, he murmured, “You looked hot.” Your heart stopped. While you were tortured (and yet, strangely turned on) by the screwed up power dynamics between the two of you, Johnny acknowledged them and ignored it. This is how he saw it: endearing, groupie-like devotion alide, you were both famous, and you were both sitting at the bar together. If all the presses were talking about was wether or not you fucked, well maybe they saw something: potential.

Common sense worn away by booze, in that dense, urging silence, it felt like the next beat would be for you to kiss him- naturally, like swallowing your own spit. Johnny’s shoulders stiffened and he was started at first, but he visibly relaxed into you after a few breaths, eyes fluttering shut. Too timid to touch him, you fumbled with the edge of your seat as you lingered there a moment, adrenaline pumping through your veins as it fucking hit you. You had your lips on Johnny Knoxville, and he

Eventually, you had to breath- pull away only to catch your breath in little pants, eyes falling half lidded. Wow. You looked stunning. Reaching out a broad hand, Johnny gently pushed a strand of hair off your face to press a sweet kiss to your forehead, melting you. It felt just as instinctual to lean into Knoxville’s touch, giggling softly as he gently ran his fingers through your hair. It felt so right, like there was some big, you shaped hole in his chest, and you’d just slotted yourself in his life. Standing up, Johnny murmured appreciatively, “Alright, girlie. Let’s beat this joint, hmm?”

[sehodreams]

Rich CEO Sungchan is married to an heiress. Their marriage didn’t start off as a business arrangement. As two young, hot, fit people, they were attracted to each other. But as the years went by, Sungchan became less and less attracted to the heiress. It doesn’t help that their sex life is vanilla. Their newborn was 100% a business arrangement. He’s secured an heir to the empire. Reader is hired as the stay-in nanny to help with the newborn. Most of the day she’s in the main mansion, tending to the newborn as the heiress tens to her socialite life. At night, she sleeps in the detached guest house. Sometimes, the nanny’s and Sungchan’s paths cross in the estate. 🌒 (all asks optional, dont feel pressured to respond)

God I've been in a Sungchan brain rot lately, I have a dumb!popular!Sungchan in the oven and now this, god, I've been well fed these days 🥴

I'm slowly answering the questions, sorry if sometimes I take too much time, it's a busy season where I work, but I love all ideas and mtl questions, so feel free to continue doing them, I'll try to answer them in my free time! 💕

I hope you like it, to be honest i already have a second part, my mind kept showing me other scenarios, so if you have any feedback is more than welcome!

TW and tags: dark!CEO!Sungchan, noncon, p in v, no protection, thigh fucking, fingering, breeding kink, squints of Sir Kink, plus size!nanny!reader

WC: sorry, wrote it in my phone and have no idea, but probably around 4k like usual.

Just a gift

He didn't notice your existence until he went to see his baby boy after a long work trip, he had gone to Japan to see a couple of his restaurants, leaving his wife with his child, trusting her to take care of him.

He didn't mind that she received help, he expected it since he knew she'd have to go to a couple events like always, but it seemed as if the woman he had married was getting busy on purpose to avoid taking care of their child, and that did bother him, but she'd do her job at some point, he hoped.

When he arrived he asked for his child and his wife, the maid told him the lady had gone out to a family reunion and the child was sleeping in his room, so he quickly tossed his tie aside, getting more comfortable, and walked to his newborn's room, calming himself to not get mad with his wife. It was a long way to that side of the mansion and he had asked for his things to be moved as near as possible to help in case anything happened, so he'd rest after checking on his baby. He had stopped sharing his bed with his wife a long time ago and they slept on different sides of the house, but now that they had a child, they couldn't avoid each other's presence anymore, or so he thought.

When he opened the door he expected to see his baby sleeping in his baby crib, carefully chosen by a professional, but what he saw left him without words.

You were there, in the dark room with just a limp light on, carrying his baby with your eyes closed while whispering sweet words "you're a lucky baby, I hope you grow up with as much love as wealth you'll receive, and become a great man". You held him with so much care, close to your chest, giving him all your warm.

And that made him hard.

In the moment he laid his eyes on you, he knew you existed to have a child, you were a mother, and he wanted to give you all the children you wanted. He had deduced you didn't have any children, how could such a sweet young thing like you have children already? You had so much love overflowing your words and movements, it wasn't possible.

He stopped himself, his mind running around a mile per second, imagining you in his bed with your legs up and his cock stuffing you, making you a real mother.

"Who are you?" He asked after a second, still at the door, not walking near you because he knew he'd get weak.

You opened your eyes in shock by the male voice, so deep into your own comfort with the baby you took care of. You looked at him and immediately recognized him, the same hair color and skin as the baby you were holding, also it was impossible to not know who he was, the owner of the household, and your boss you had no opportunity to meet until now, "Sir, it's a pleasure to finally meet you, I'm baby Sungchan's nanny" you smiled. He got drunk with the way your smile made your sweet cheeks chubbier, and your round body called him to get warm with it into your side, so welcoming.

He was sure your sweet pussy would easily accept him, would call for him, just like your eyes and lips did. You were such a sweet thing to the eye, of course you had to taste as sweet too, right?

"Sorry I wasn't notified with your presence, if you don't mind, could you tell me when did you start working here?" He talked, ignoring the pressure that started to bother him inside his pants.

"Oh, it hasn't been that long, maybe a month" you whispered, leaving his child into the crib, softly, slightly bending to not wake him up, showing Sungchan your precious and bubbly ass. God, he wanted to lift that long skirt and fuck you right there, his body was so hot it hurt.

He couldn't remember the last time he had sex, he knows it was with his wife when they conceived the small heir, and after that he got so busy with work and his new life as a father he didn't have time to visit the VIP brothel he used to visit before he and his wife had decided to have a son. He and his wife had a good start, both were equals in the relationship, they had the beauty and the status to be a perfect couple, but their feelings got colder with time, and at some point they just stopped being a real relationship, only staying together for the benefits it had. The sex had always been too vanilla for his liking, and after a couple of years he had decided to visit brothels instead of finding girls around, he didn't want a relationship, and he was sure anyone who wasn't paid to be with him would quickly catch unnecessary feelings for him.

"What do you mean a month? I left for Japan 2 weeks ago, does that mean you were almost 2 weeks here, with my child, and you didn't bother to present yourself to me? My wife has never told me about you" he was frowning his eyebrows behind you. You stood up properly again, bowing and saying sorry. "I don't want you to apologize, I want you to give me an explanation" his voice was getting higher and you looked alarmed behind you.

"Please Sir, let's not raise the voice in here, this is your son's room, not your office, let's have this conversation in another place" you replied. You were so calm, so put together, it started a fire inside his guts. He wanted to ravage you, look at tears falling down your cheeks and your pussy contracting around his fingers, convulsing and making a mess, and giving you the prize you deserved, because you were much more mother than his wife, who had never shown as much interest as you for his child, and you, in just an interaction, had shown more love and maturity than her.

"You're right, let's go to my office" he accepted. You walked in front of him and he watched your hips move with every step, the curve of your lower back going to your ass, was insane. He had never had interest in curvy bodies before, thinking that they were unhealthy, but now that he had a son with his wife, he realized your body was just different, softer, warmer, more breedable, he smiled.

When you arrived to his office he sat in his leather sofa, showing you with his eyes were you should seat, in front of him, in another sofa, with a little table between you. You did it, you sat and patted your skirt, with your straight back, pushing your tits in the way. He saw your sweet boobs push your floral white blouse, and your long baby blue skirt only enhanced the softness of your body. He licked his lips without you noticing and crossed his long legs.

You didn't feel small, but you felt watched, reason why you did your best to mantain eye contact.

So a feisty one, he thought, I like that.

You heard the clock ticking, too obvious in the silence. "What are you waiting for?" He asked.

"Sorry, it's my fault I didn't present myself to you, I should've done it, the lady said to not bother you because then you'd have an unapproachable actitud with your son, and my main interest, as wrong as it sounds, it's the wellness of your child, so I didn't want to push any buttons on you. Still, I'm sorry Sir, I have no excuses."

You sounded so pretty, making it seem as if you always thought about his son, he was sure you'd be a great wife one day, obedient but strong willed, soft and caring but protective.

However, that would have to wait, because he wanted you for him.

"I see, I'm afraid my wife has told you things that aren't a hundred percent true, I do get frustrated when I'm interrupted, but anyone who has direct contact with my child and has to bring me news about his wellbeing will never be a bother, I hope that from now on we mantain a better relationship, and thank you for taking care of my child in the meanwhile."

You looked up to him, you have never been treated so good by a parent before, always working for rich jerks, it was new for you to have such a notable gentleman talk to you like that. You smiled and nodded. "Thank you Sir, I'll take care of him as if it was my blood"

He smiled and dismissed you, you quickly left to go to your room on the attached house, excited to have met your boss.

He jerked off with your smile in his mind.

Days went by, he tried to tell himself that maybe it was better to just have a boss/worker relationship with you, to not surpass any line. But God you did it hard for him, now everyday before his son went to sleep and you to your room, you'd go with the baby in your arms to his office, so he could give him a goodnight kiss.

And he was dying to give you one too.

Everytime he saw you walking near his room in the morning, making sure his baby was always well fed, going around with your pretty flowy dresses and your tits that bounced everytime you moved. They would feed a child really well, he repeated on his mine, or maybe they already had milk? It was impossible to have those voluptuous boobs and not want a taste.

Still, he never did anything, not touching a hair on your head.

He repeated like a mantra that it was not okay, he needed you around because his wife had better things to do than take care of their boy, and his boy loved you so much, every day his laugh filled the empty corridors like a song, making an echo that made everyone that heard it smile.

Except his wife, of course.

"When are you coming back" he asked when he saw her taking a couple bags full of party clothes.

"I'm not sure, but it won't be more than a month" she hurried to go out. You were in the room with the baby, listening to the baby's mother leave without giving the small one a second glance, but you couldn't say anything, it wasn't your position to question the parents.

"If you leave that door, I swear, I'll take cards into the subject" he said angrily. "It's our child! You can't leave him like that! You have never breastfeeded him, not a single time!"

"It hurts, what do you want me to do? And he's being taken care just fine, I'll come back in a few weeks, you also travel a lot, why shouldn't I?" You heard him throwing things to the floor and flinched, you had never seen him get that angry before, he always had a smile on his face when you appeared.

Both their rooms were next to the baby's so you heard everything clearly, and when the baby started to cry you grabbed him and ran to the patio to calm him down.

An hour later you saw from the patio the lady leaving with a couple bags and dark sunglasses. He couldn't... You doubted. Could have he touch her? The same Sungchan you saw every morning and night and always kissed his son and talked to you with respect?

You shook your head, it wasn't any of your business. He came down a couple minutes later, fuming, and searched for you. You quickly answered "Sir, I'm here" You said after running to the backdoor that connected the house with the patio, you didn't dare to scream next to the baby. The baby was in the stroller, taking his daily nap, and you were beside him, sitting in one of the many benches. He walked with you to your seat, heat coming out of him, so hot you felt it in your back when he walked behind you, when he saw him there, his baby next to you now, and your confused gaze, he calmed down.

"I'm sorry you had to heard that, I've been having numerous fights with my wife since the baby was born... I just... I don't know what to do, it had never passed my mind that he wouldn't have his mother around, I always respected how serious my wife took his life and businesses" he looked down, you couldn't help but get soft for him.

"I'm sorry to hear that Sir, but let me assure this baby it's been well taken care of, not only by me, but by you, I had never seen a father so committed to his role before" you wanted to comfort him.

He smiled at your words "thank you".

Everything started to get even better, he visited his child more, and had started to give you bonuses and little gifts, did you have a favorite coffee? The kitchen had all the options you could ever need. You needed a new stroller for his kid? Take his credit card, don't even doubt of getting the best one. Did you like those little dresses, right? Well, one of his friends had a store you could visit, don't worry, it's just a gift.

Just a gift, just a gift, he always said, and you started to feel more and more uncomfortable with his attentions.

"Sorry Sir, I can't accept that" he was showing you a gold bracelet that matched his son's little necklace.

"Don't worry, it's nothing, just a gift" he smiled and tried to put in in your wrist.

You moved your hand away from his grip. "I shouldn't Sir, I-I don't think this is okay" you nervously said, you didn't want to think he had any ulterior motive to give them to you, but everyone else had started to look at you weirdly, and you heard how the staff talked behind you "she's gonna trap him", "she must be doing extra work to be on his good side", "someone should remind her he's married". It was all too much for you.

His eyes full of love changed. "Are you rejecting my gift? I choose it for you, if you don't accept it I have no option but to throw it out"

"No Sir, why-" you couldn't understand why his voice tone changed. "Can't you get your money back?"

"It has your name on it, and my boy's too, it was a set, I can't return it" he denied. You didn't know what to do, doubting if to accept it or not. He saw it in your face, you discussing with yourself, your doubt. He doesn't know why, but he got so mad, he didn't give you another second to doubt, and crushed the pretty box with his hands, to then throw it into the trash can next to the door, walking away without giving you a second glance.

You stayed there, in shock, not knowing what to do. You walked to the bin, empty, with only the crushed box inside, and took it out, you couldn't let something so valuable be dumped. You examinated it, gold with a little sun, matching the little star in the baby's necklace, your initial and the baby's in the back, so pretty, you had never received something so valuable before.

You left the boy sleeping and went to your room, feeling scared of going to his office to say goodnight like everyday.

Why didn't you? He stayed up for hours, waiting for you, and then after the clock sounded at midnight, he walked to see you in the guest house.

He had almost forgotten how the place looked, never finding a reason to visit the place until that moment.

Your room was in the second floor, the living room had the tv on and different bags on your table from all the shopping he sent you to do with his card, the little box he had choosen caught his attention too. He smiled, satisfied with your actions, you never disappointed him.

You were deep asleep, not feeling his presence. He watched you, you were wearing a white tank top that showed your nipples through the cheap fabric.

You shouldn't be wearing that, you should be covered in jewels and the best fabrics, he thought.

He got closer, watching your face. His hand moved on his own, he swears, he didn't mean to, but your skin was magnetic. His hand touched the strap of your tank top and moved it, your tits were so big they were about to spill over the clothes, and he wanted to move the bedsheet away to see what were you wearing down, so he did.

God, you wore nothing, only covering your pussy with your panties.

He saw shift your body, feeling the cold air touch you. You showed him your back, and when he saw your peachy ass he decided that was the night, that was the night you would become his.

He would take you, you wanted or not.

He had tried so hard, showering you with compliments and gifts, how could you reject him like that before? He felt so hurt, he did everything for you, how could you be so cold towards him?

You didn't leave him an option.

He pressed his body against yours, smelling your shampoo from the hair that covered your pillow. His hips touched your ass, his boner presenting itself and feeling your clothed skin.

His hand wanted to roam around but he didn't want to wake you up, so he did his best to softly move his hand to the front of your panties, hugging your side.

His hand entered the rim of your panties and felt the hair you had there, he liked that, a natural feeling, fertile.

The tip of his fingers caressed your little mount, smooth, like caramel. Your ass pressed more against him and he had to bite his lip to not moan, so much time had passed since the last time he fucked someone his body physically hurt him, he wanted to open your legs and push his dick immediately, but he had to enjoy you a bit more, all well done has its benefits, he reminded himself.

His fingers made circles on your clit, and your pussy, even with you asleep, started to respond to his touch.

Fuck, that's my girl, he thought.

It was getting wet, so wet, he moved his hand to his face and smelled you on his fingers. A little drop was about to fall and he decided to lick it, a mature flavor, like a woman that needed a man to break her.

That was it, that pushed all sanity out of him and he pulled down his slacks. The tip of his cock, red and furious, was leaking, and he pushed it between your thighs.

It was hard, your thighs were so thick they almost left no room for him, but you had already dripped enough to make it easier, and with the help of his spit on his dick he did it.

I want to put it in, I need to put it in, his mind was racing and his breath was getting more and more loud. You would wake up in any second, and he couldn't wait for it, he wanted to smash you to the mattress and fuck you like an animal, to cum inside and breed you like you deserved.

His pleads were heard and you opened your eyes, confused with what was going on, you felt the pressure between your legs, and your body hot and wet, but why? How?

"Sorry baby, It'll be quick, just once, okay?" He whispered behind you and you turned your head to look at him, he smiled at you and gave you a peck on the lips.

"What? What?" You asked, just waking up and regaining your senses. "Sir?"

Oh god, he loved when you called him Sir, always with that soft voice and those full lips.

He separated himself and moved you to your back, he quickly opened your legs and situated himself between them, pushing your underwear to the side, almost hurting you of how strongly he did it. he appreciated you hole for a good second, so plump and glowing even in darkness, ready for him.

He may not have noticed all your refusal, he had covered your mouth with his hand after the kiss, and when your hands started to punch his chest he simply smiled and grabbed your hands with his other hand. "Did you know that something was stolen from the mansion today?" You stopped punching him and looked at him, not understanding what was going on. "It was a bracelet, with my son and his mother's initial, gold, really expensive, and all the maids said they saw you wearing it" Your eyes shook, you tried to deny under his hand. "It's okay honey, I forgive you, you just need to be a good girl from now on, okay?" Tears fell down your cheeks, it was a gift! You repeated on your head.

It was just a gift, how could he used that to backfire you, it had his wife's initial, that was right, but it was your initial too!

"I'll move my hand okay, and then I'll fuck you, don't worry, I'm sure you'll like it" he murmured. The light of the night covered him, trespassing the white curtains, like he did in your room.

He moved his hand and you could talk, finally "you said it was a gift" you cried.

"It was, but you rejected it, didn't think that would hurt me? You should've accepted me while I was kind" his fingers were pounding your insides. You squirmed, sensitive, feeling his long fingers work you like nothing.

"I'm... Sorry, Sir" you tried to say. "Please"

"It's okay baby" he replaced his fingers with the tip of his dick "I accept your apology" he inserted it completely in a single thrust.

You opened your mouth, air leaving your lungs and insides moving to accept him, he was so big, your eyes got blurry with the pain tears.

He started slow, but quickly got bored of the pace, and when he had enough he pushed your legs up, watching his dick sink inside you deeper. He exhaled, it felt perfect, your nails on his forearms, hurting him, and your pussy insides caressing him. So perfect.

His hips moved harder, and then he was mating pressing you to the bed. You were so soft and inviting like he imagined. Your cunt was accepting him in a second, knowing he was good enough for you.

Your cheeks were wet with tears, those pretty cheeks, he wanted to slap them to make them even more flushed.

"My angel, you're gonna be the best mother" he said, cock pressing you harder to the mattress, you fell as if your body was sinking into it, moaning and holding yourself to his arms to not fall deeper, where? you didn't know, but you felt like you were about to.

"Please no, not inside" you begged, music to his ears. You tried to think about other things, how would you go after that, where would you hide, who could you ask for help. He saw you thinking too much and put one of his hands around your throat to shut up your pleas and the voices inside your head.

Not a single sound could leave your throat, and the air restriction made you dizzy. You slapped his hand so he'd let you breath again, but he didn't flinch. His pelvis ruthlessly smashing you with force, making your legs tremble.

"Mine, mine, forever mine" he bite his lip and smiled, pumping your insides, filling you with the thickest cum you've ever felt, so sticky it would certainly stay inside, adding to that, the way his hips didn't move away for a second, it would leave anyone pregnant.

He brushed off the hair over your face, and still with the hand on your throat, he left a soft kiss over your lips, still inside you.

You couldn't think properly, you hadn't realized you came when he put his hand on your neck, making a mess over the bed, and the last thing that passed through your mind before you passed out was that you would never accept a single gift from him again.

Except, nine months later, you'd recieve another one, obligated.

[19burstraat]

when existence or when hope is gone : soc jane austen / regency au

"And have you made this entire call without once vexing or offending poor Miss Ghafa?” Captain Rietveld looked coolly at him. Inej bent her head over her sewing to hide her smiling, since she was not sure she would not laugh outright. She had not thought that Wylan would deliberately provoke the Captain, but perhaps his deference to his father did not reach anyone else. “I am sure that is not for me to decide,” said the Captain, “But I own I have been perfectly well behaved.” “Does he lie, Miss Ghafa?” “No— he has been quite tolerable company,” said Inej. “If not quite a perfect gentleman.” “You wound me, Miss Ghafa.” “I suspect I do not, Captain.”

contextual and explanatory notes about regency literary and social conventions are below the cut if you have questions during/after reading! plus some trivia for fun :)

The redacting of certain place names (—shire, — Street) is accurate to lots of old novels, where you will see it from time to time. I think it was a deliberate omission to avoid libel accusations if they accidentally invoked somewhere or someone real, or to also avoid confusing people if it contradicted real life. I used it here both to mimic the style, and also because that way didn't have to pick streets or regions lol.

The 'cut direct' was a social nuke and Kaz has balls of steel for using it on an older man who is his social superior 💀 if you very deliberately stared at and then blanked a previous acquaintance who had greeted you, it severed a relationship or acquaintance forever and could also make people turn on the person being cut. Pekka could have challenged him to a duel for it, but sensibly I think he saw the lapse in logic in giving a pistol to a soldier who holds you responsible for his brother's death and letting him shoot at you

A reticule is one of those dumb tiny handbags that regency ladies had

Governesses were in a uniquely vulnerable position. Not genteel enough for the family while not technically a servant, they tended to be isolated. While they were ofc not comparable to what Inej canonically goes through, many were abused by the families they worked for, rivalled the mothers for their children's affection, and some were harassed and abused by husbands or male visitors. There's a reason Jane Fairfax does not want to be one in Emma.

The navy lists are a publication that, unsurprisingly, list all the men, their ranks, and their ships currently trundling around on campaign. Kaz checks them to see who is still alive and to backseat drive campaigns (what's new!) and Wylan waits on tenterhooks for him to find Jesper. Which he always does because he was already looking for him.

Married couples did not tend to call one another by their given names, at least not in company; Nina and Matthias do it because they have a fond disrespect for one another. Or Nina does anyway and it's rubbed off on Matthias.

Although Kaz and Inej are comparatively very young, twenty six is pushing it for the 'marriageability' of young women; Anne Elliot was twenty seven and was considered to have lost the 'bloom' of her youth, so she is being bourne down upon a bit.

The money concerns in Persuasion— landed gentry losing money and soldiers becoming 'new' money in the war via prize money, but still being looked down upon by the old nobility— are kinda reflected through Kaz and Jesper.

(to be so honest I do not quite understand how the regency economy worked but I figured that like, no one else reading this does either, unless ur a regency specialist. if you are, sorry. how's academia?)

I think we're actually not quite yet at the peak of the 'scandal sheet' Bridgerton-Lady-Whistledown craze, but I couldn't possibly deprive Kaz and Inej of their fishmarket wife gossip habit in any universe.

I also hate Lord Byron. Next!

Nina, Matthias, and Inej are not at the Wesper wedding because regency weddings were super tiny affairs that only had v close / local family and friends at them

I think the circumstances of Kaz and Jordie having been minor landed gentry having to join the navy out of necessity may be a bit of a stretch but... Well I had to think of something to replicate Kaz's backstory with. The easier solution would have been for them to marry rich but I can see Jordie thinking that trying to marry Kaz 'Cut Direct' Rietveld off to a Duchess might be a bit tough

A trousseau was the collection of clothes that women bought before they were married; it was an expected thing, to send brides off with new clothes. Nina and Mrs Ghafa (and Jesper) are a lot more interested in this than poor Inej is lol.

The made up house names are entirely inside jokes with myself. Geldings references horses but is actually a play on the Geldstraat, Crawley means 'clearing frequented by crows', Stavewell is a play on the Stave where Tante Heleen and the Menagerie are, and I think Trasselwood is fairly obvious lol.