#what does cease all contact mean | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

koqabear · 7 months ago

Note

For the 2k event I would love to see football player!taehyun x cheerleader! Y/N and idc what the scenario is I would just love to see some spicy smut 🥵🥵 thank you!

[2K Masterlist]

"How not to scare off the stupid flirt that won’t leave you alone."

football player!Taehyun x fem!cheerleader!reader // wc: 5.7K // genre: college au, one-sided enemies to lovers, smut, MDNI.

warnings: i glanced over it does that count as a proof read, slight himbo tyun, (?!) mans a munch, switchy/kinda sub leaning service top! tyun (!!!?), switchy/dom leaning! mc, strength kink, degrading, praise, oral (f. rec.), dry humping, hair pulling, begging, bondage, creampies, overstimulation, lmk if i should add anything!

notes: went just a bit overboard rawr

Taehyun— star player of the football team, a total womanizer and flirt— has taken an interest in you.

It was only a matter of time before he set his sights on you, wasn’t it? The cute cheerleader who was nothing short of energetic and endearing, waving your pom poms excitedly and sporting a bright smile on your face that never ceased at every game— you were easily the smartest person there, given a full-ride scholarship and spending your weekdays cooped up in the library studying, a complete switch from the preppy persona you put on display for the students and families in the bleachers, never giving anyone the time of day and focusing solely on your studies— in short, you were entirely unattainable.

Which only served to entice Taehyun more.

You never gave in to any of Taehyun’s advances— every wave, greeting, or call of your name was strictly ignored; any attempts to be friendly with you were thrown straight into the gutter by a single glare of yours, and Taehyun found himself lucky on the days you would even look at him willingly.

Of course, your withering glares and upturned nose as you walked away from every approach would have any sane person tucking their tail and giving up immediately— but Taehyun wasn’t just anyone, and he found that it was quite fun to try and rile you up whenever he saw you— in and out of uniform— and it made his friends wonder if he was simply a masochist.

“Dude, she looks like she’s ready to blow you up with her mind every time she sees you,” Yeonjun told him once, recounting the way you sneered at Taehyun the moment he tried to interact with you after the game, yet another successful win under their belts, “you mean to tell me you’re into that?”

Taehyun never bothered to deny such accusations; why would he, when he felt himself smile a little wider every time you told him to get lost, or would feel himself eager to chase after you when you would simply turn on your heel and walk the opposite direction whenever you made eye-contact with him? And if he spent nights staying up and thinking about the way your bright smile lit up the stadium and the bow on your head would bounce cutely with each stunt you performed, that was no one else’s business but his own.

To Taehyun, you were the most refreshing part of every game; to you, Kang Taehyun was a stupid tick you just couldn’t get rid of.

All charming smiles and smooth flirty lines— you were warned of him by your team, you knew that he was nothing but trouble the moment the rumors of his reputation started swimming around from ear to ear— a cocky D1 athlete that couldn’t stick to a single girl for more than a few days.

So how is it possible that he’s still bothering you? He’s been after you since the season started, following you around dumbly and trying to get you to cave with even dumber lines you know he’s used on other girls. You never even bothered to bat an eye at him— you’ve never spoken to him past a snide remark telling him to get lost; you’ve shown negative interest in him, but even so, you still catch him staring at you with stars in his eyes.

“Hey,” Taehyun says, managing to catch you after the home game has ended; still in your full face of makeup, so tired that you haven’t even bothered to change out of your uniform yet— you sneer on instinct, turning on your heel and walking the opposite way you were heading, even if it meant taking the farther exit— but Taehyun simply runs after you, not fazed in the slightest at your behavior, “Great game today, right? You guys were awesome. Your routines were super cool.”

“They’re the same ones we’ve been doing for a while now.” you comment dryly, tugging your duffle bag’s strap over your shoulder more; Oh, you can hear Taehyun mumble softly— you wonder if this is the moment he decides it's no longer worth it to pursue you. But again— things are never that simple for you.

“Still, I just never get tired of watching you.”

You falter; Taehyun senses it, just like you sense his searing gaze on your face.

“You’re not supposed to be watching me,” is all you’re able to say, albeit softly, a lot weaker than your usual dismissive tone.

“I know,” Taehyun hums softly, tilting his head as he continues to watch you, analyzing your expression acutely, “it’s just hard not to.”

Alright, you find yourself thinking, coming to a complete halt the moment you feel your heart fluttering hopelessly, this has to stop.

“Wow. Smooth,” you say apathetically, pursing your lips in distaste and observing the man before you— his relaxed, cocky demeanor, the lazy smile that pulls at his lips, his head that tilts curiously, grown out hair covering his eyes and hiding what he might be thinking— and you scoff, voice dripping with distaste as you continue, “how many girls has that line worked on already?”

“None. One, maybe,” Taehyun quickly says, taking a step closer to you, until you’re able to smell him, the natural musk mixed with the fading scent of his cologne, “if she decides to give me a chance.”

Your lips press together, your face unimpressed; he raises a brow at you, as though asking for an answer— swiftly, you roll your eyes and ignore his silent queues.

“Not happening.” you’re turning around again, your pace must faster now, “go bother someone else who’s willing to be part of your roster.”

“I don’t want someone else,” Taehyun groans, jogging after you and placing himself in front of you, just so you’ll actually give him the time of day, “I just want you.”

“Oh really?” you laugh mockingly, entirely unconvinced by this act he seems to be putting up, “So if I fuck you, will you finally stop throwing a tantrum over something you can’t have?”

He’s stunned; with hands on your hips, you step closer to him, getting up in his face as you continue to taunt him.

“Are you gonna get bored and dump me after? Hmm?” you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest and taking a step back— Taehyun remains bewildered. “You’re probably not even worth it, actually.”

Just like he did earlier, you raise a brow; mocking him, waiting for him to respond as you tap your foot impatiently— instead, he remains silent, eyes scanning your face, as though waiting for you to say something else— you roll your eyes and shake your head, more than ready to push past him and finally go shower in the comfort of your own apartment.

Your shoulder almost pushes against Taehyun’s body as you go to leave— but you’re stopped in your tracks before you can get the last say, a strong grip on your bicep keeping you still and turning your body around roughly— your duffle bag swings and the strap falls down your arm at the action.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” Taehyun says, leering down at you with dark eyes— he’s irritated, teeth gritted and brows knitted together as he speaks.

“Awh, is your ego wounded now?” you ask, pouting and batting your eyes at him, feeling his fingers dig into your skin as a result, “does it hurt your big macho pride to get rejected?”

Taehyun doesn’t say anything to that— his eyes seem to do the talking for him, narrowed dangerously at you, but even so, you still don’t care to take the hint.

“Or— don’t tell me,” you make a point to lower your voice to a whisper, looking around skeptically for anyone else that could hear— but, the stadium was empty at this point, “did I hit too close to home? Oh no, are you that bad of a fuck?”

Taehyun’s jaw is clenched; he takes one look at your pouting, pitied face, at his fingertips that dig into the muscle of your bicep, and inhales slowly— and with one last glance around the area, he turns away and begins to roughly tug you along.

“Woah— hey– hey, what the fuck do you think you’re doing—?!”

You’re yelling and bitching at him, slapping at his shoulder and calling him names he could never come up with himself— and yet, you stumble along, refusing to take your arm out of his loosening grip— your actions speak louder than your (abrasive yet creative, Taehyun will admit) words; you’re curious, and Taehyun can already picture the look on your face the moment he finally brings the two of you into the empty locker room he previously raced out of just to look for you.

“What the hell man?” you yell, allowing yourself to be tugged further into the room, straight to a secluded corner that you immediately get backed up in; his hands are on your shoulders as he presses you firmly against the metal lockers, your back arching to get away from the uncomfortable feeling— he’s got you caged in with his body, unable to do anything more than press your hands against his chest in an attempt to keep your distance. You reluctantly take note of how firm his muscles feel.

“What’s your deal?” you roll your eyes, noticing that he has yet to explain himself, resorting to glaring down at you with his stupid, big brown eyes, “Is this all you can do? Don’t know how to use your big boy words so you resort to force instead?”

“I should be asking you the same thing,” he suddenly says, his voice quiet and restrained as he eyes you carefully; your eyes widen, as though you weren’t actually expecting him to say anything, “all that talk for someone that doesn’t wanna be here.”

Your body heats up instantly at his words; you feel like a fish out of water with the way your mouth opens and closes, trying to find your rebuttal yet faltering under the heat of his gaze— he looks pissed, as though he’ll pounce on you the moment you say something wrong.

“I don’t,” you finally say, the words not as confident as you wish they were, “you were the one that dragged me here.”

“Really?” he asks, raising a brow at the way you scoff and glare at him, standing your ground even if you both know you’re lying; his hands fall from your shoulders and he takes a step back, watching as you simply remain there, shocked.

“Then leave.”

The look on his face is much too smug for your liking. He crosses his arms and smirks, taking another step back and nodding to the other side of the room, telling you that “the exit’s over there.”

You take a step forward, only to hesitate. Your eyes narrow at the sight of him, deep in thought before you finally kiss your teeth in distaste.

“God, you’re so fucking insufferable.”

Taehyun doesn’t get a chance to say anything to that because you’re all but leaping onto him after— you’re taking hastes steps to him and your hand reaches out for his nape, digging into his hair before pulling him in towards you for a kiss; to say he was expecting this would be a lie, but he’s more than prepared to melt into you anyway.

You’re nothing like the sweet and innocent persona you put up for the stadium; you’re insatiable, kissing Taehyun like you were starving, a hand reaching up to place itself on his chest, the feeling welcomed until he realizes something— you’re pushing him back, and before he knows it, he’s the one slamming back into the lockers.

His hand falls onto your hip, the other coming up to cup your jaw; his fingers wander endlessly, going from the pleats of your skirt to the elastic waistband, sly fingertips sneaking beneath before he’s pulling away and reaching down to cup your ass— he’s groaning into your mouth at the feeling, your teeth sinking in retaliation to him groping you like a bitch in heat.

Taehyun’s mind is racing a million miles a minute; he never actually thought he’d get here, but now that he did, he’s found himself to be feeling ridiculously antsy— he wants to feel you, take his time to memorize every detail of you, but he also wants to perform ever fantasy he’s ever had about you, bad.

And if he thinks he’s good at masking his desperation from you, he’s wrong. Very, very wrong. You could feel it from the way he kissed you back to the way his dick hardened in what you think is record time, his motions growing hasty as he couldn’t stop feeling you up, as though he’d die if he didn’t go from venturing up your shirt to grabbing at your ass, going back and forth and fucking up your balance completely— at this point, Taehyun was only left against the lockers because you were full on leaning on him.

When you pull away from the kiss, lips swollen and entirely out of breath, Taehyun chases after you; his eyes are low lidded and dazed as he looks at you, confused on why you look at him as though you’ll start laughing any second now.

“Where’s that smooth guy from earlier?” you taunt, punctuating your words by pressing yourself firmly against him, listening to the quiet hiss you get in return, “you almost made me think that your reputation was actually true.”

God, he’s so predictable. You can barely hold back the smile that tugs at your lips, watching Taehyun’s reaction intently; it was like a light finally turned on in his head, glassed over eyes finally becoming conscious as he blinks at you, words registering in his head and grip slowly become harsher; his hand falls from your face and down to the small of your back, pulling you close and raising a confused brow at you.

“What reputation?” he asks, the faux innocence making you roll your eyes.

“Oh y’know, just some girls saying shit. That you fuck the living daylights out of them, or whatever,” your hand that was braced against his chest trails up, fingertips going to the underside of his chin to flick his head up playfully— his eyes are pinned on you the entire time, and you giggle mockingly. “But all I see here is a horny teen that gets hard over a little bit of kissing.”

You’re baiting him— it’s so obvious and you both know it, but that doesn’t stop Taehyun from biting the said bait shamelessly, dark eyes glaring daggers at you challengingly as stares you down.

It all happens too quickly for you to process; your positions are being flipped around yet again and your back is slamming into the lockers, letting out a small yelp at the feeling— but it’s all washed out by the sight of Taehyun falling to his knees, pushing your legs open before he’s settling himself between them comfortably— his eyes sparkle under the lights as he looks up at you, the crude contrasting bringing a wave of heat throughout your body.

“You have no idea how long I wanted to do this,” Taehyun rasps, grabbing your leg before he’s lifting it up, feeling your hand on his shoulder at the unexpected action; he merely chuckles, placing slow, wet kisses from your inner knee before he begins to trail in— once he’s at your inner thighs, he slings your leg over his shoulder leisurely, sucking and biting at the skin before mumbling against it, “fucking dreamed about this.”

His words are pathetically effective— your panties feel uncomfortably stuck to your cunt, and the anticipation of feeling Taehyun’s mouth there definitely isn’t helping.

“Bullshit,” you grit, your free hand reaching down to lace into his hair; your nails scratch along his scalp and pull at his roots, and Taehyun shivers at the feeling, “god, do your other hookups like it when you say this shit?”

Beneath your skirt, he shakes his head, fingertips digging into your thighs at the thought. You’re trying to provoke him, it’s obvious, yet Taehyun can’t help but get irritated at the fact that you seem to be focusing on everything but him. “You’re the only one I’ve ever talked to like this,” he says, pulling out from under your skirt to bring your panties down, dragging them slowly until they’re finally off— you note with wide eyes that he immediately pockets them. “I’m usually not much of a talker.”

“But if you hate it that much, I can be quiet,” he murmurs, beginning to go back to your cunt again, bunching your skirt at your hips so you can get a good view of him— his doe eyes flicker up at you, and you swear he must know what that does to you as he continues. “I can be whatever you want me to be.”

The dry laugh you let out comes out shaky and breathy; his affect on you is so obvious, yet you still seem to want to hide it all under this persona of yours, digging your heel in his back and tilting your hips closer to his face— he oggles at how visibly wet you are, a soft hiss leaving his lips as you pull at his hair, not giving him a chance to react before you’re pushing him in to where you need him the most.

If you’re finally gonna give in to this stupid student athlete, it’s going to be on your terms. At least that’s what you tell yourself, a shaky moan escaping you and your grip tightening on Taehyun’s hair— he really doesn’t want to waste any time, you note.

His mouth feels like heaven; he’s quick to lick a stripe across your cunt, tongue digging at your needy hole before he comes up to your clit, licking at it teasingly until he finally hears you whine. His lips are soft and plump as he places messy kisses at your clit, his hands digging into your thighs in an attempt to stop you from shifting around so much— if anything, his bruising grip only serves to rip out another moan from you.

“S-shit, Taehyun— just like that, ah,” your moans are just as pretty as you— Taehyun feels like he’s in a daze as he presses closer against you, sucking your clit harshly and listening to the sweet whine you let out— he can feel his cock twitching pathetically in his pants, hips bucking at the air as his mouth moves down to your entrance.

“Fuck!” your eyes screw shut as you feel Taehyun’s tongue enter you, the tip of his nose pressing against your clit as he nuzzles into your cunt, as though he could get further inside your pussy. The sighs and grunts he lets out aren’t lost on your ears either, cunt clenching desperately against him as you begin to wriggle out of his grip without realizing.

“Mmmh, pretty face was meant to get fucked,” you groan out, the words slipping out of you without control. Your hips rock and grind against him, dazed eyes watching as his hold on you loosens and his tongue lolls out; watery eyes flicker back up to look at you, glowing from your compliment.

Taehyun thinks that he could die happily like this. Your cunt is so sweet, so wet, the glide of it against his face enough to have him throbbing painfully in his pants. His jaw aches and it’s getting hard for him to breathe, but even then he refuses to stop— the sight of you is like a dream come true for him to pull away now.

You’re so close— it’s evident by the way your hips start bucking against his face harshly, nails digging into his scalp as you push him closer, impossibly close— your mouth is left open, soft moans turning into curses as your leg tries to hook him in further, pressing against the firm muscles of his back— Taehyun’s eyes flutter shut, and before he can really second guess himself, he pulls away.

The wet sound of his mouth leaving your dripping cunt should have you curling away and cringing in embarrassment. Instead, the only thing you can muster is a cry of his name, the sound venomous and disappointed as you glare down at the boy.

“Sorry,” he says, voice broken and raspy, a panting and blushing mess, “I just— fuck, I need you.”

You’re left speechless at his desperation— but Taehyun doesn’t seem to mind, getting back up to his feet before he’s grabbing at your waist and leaning in to kiss you; you can feel how hard he is against you, and it allows you to snap into your senses as you go up to place your hands against his chest once more; pulling away, you push against him in order to get him to walk— he obeys immediately.

“Geez, you give a guy a chance and he starts acting like a little virgin,” you sneer, noting with a flip of your stomach that Taehyun only grins, unaffected by your jab. You’ve led him to the edge of the bench set in the middle of this small area, pressing down on his shoulders and getting him to sit down; he watches with stars in his eyes as you straddle his lap, sitting your dripping cunt over his bulge firmly. “Am I gonna have to put in all the work here?”

“I mean,” Taehyun trails off, his hands finding purchase on your ass and beginning to guide you to rock against him; his teeth sink into his lip and his eyes darken as he takes in the sight, drawing a gasp out of you as he bucks his hips up. Looking back up at you, his face is happy and sweet. “You really don’t have to. But it’s kinda hot to get bossed around by you though— just thought you were more into that.”

Your jaw ticks. Without warning, you push him down against the bench, hovering over him and placing your hands on his waistband as you begin to undo his jeans.

“Quite a weird way to try and play off that you’re my bitch,” you grit out, tugging at his boxers and watching his cock spring out— he groans, hips bucking up at the feeling, his tip a pretty pink that throbs and leaks pathetically.

Taehyun laughs softly, watching with awe as you spit in your palm and slowly begin to stroke him; his head falls back and his eyes screw shut, noting with coy satisfaction that your hand doesn’t fully wrap around him.

“Yeah, I’m your bitch,” he sighs out, his hands flying to your waist and getting him to sit on his thighs, “fuck, you’re too good at this.”

God, he’s so stupid; giving in to all your taunts without much of a fight, sucked in entirely by the feeling of your hand that pumps his length so slowly, tightening your hold on him and twisting, squeezing his tip teasingly— his hands reach up to cover his face before he can stop himself, pretty hands obscuring his heated face and parted lips that let out soft sighs of pleasure.

“Don’t hide from me now,” you say, reaching up to pry his hands away, his eyes fluttering open before locking with yours, “you look so good like this.”

His eyes widen, the tips of his ears reddening with a cute blush; your praise is so unfamiliar, yet it renders him weak and needy for more, reaching out to grab your waist to scoot you up more— your cunt is touching his length by the time you scold him to stop, though he doesn’t seem to care much for your orders as he begins to fuck his hips against you.

“C’mon, just fuck me already,” he groans, your eyes as big as saucers as he continues to whine and beg. “Aren’t you supposed to like, use me and stuff?”

This… is not what you were expecting from him.

You’re sure the words are written across your face too, the incredulous look you give him making him shrink slightly, as though he was just now realizing what he was saying.

But before he can backtrack and say something monumentally stupid to cancel it out, you grin, hovering over his lap and grabbing at his cock, lining it up with your entrance and taking in the way he visibly shudders.

“You sound so cute when you’re begging,” you say, running his tip along your slit, allowing it to collect your growing arousal, the sound loud to both of you, “y’know, I would’ve given you a chance much earlier if you acted all nice and cute like this from the start.

“That player persona of yours wasn’t really my thing.”

The head of his cock finally breaches your entrance; Taehyun moans at the feeling of you finally sinking on him, able to feel the way he stretches you out the further you take him in, wet and warm walls fluttering with each gentle push.

“Mmh,” your brows are furrowing at the feeling, not expecting him to be so damn thick— but you took him in regardless, putting on an apathetic front even if you were on the verge of melting on top of him— you can feel him twitch inside you, a weak whimper escaping you as his hands dig into your thighs, digging into the flesh cruelly once he finally bottoms out.

“God, you’re fucking perfect,” Taehyun breathes out, hissing through his teeth once you finally start moving; your hips are methodical, your movements cruelly calculated as you rise slowly, leaving him waiting for a second before you slam back down— his legs jump, your body bouncing from the motion.

You can’t help but laugh at the sight of him; he’s the definition of fucked out, sweat that beaded at his hairline causing strands of hair to stick to his skin, chest heaving and teeth digging into his lips with every bounce on his cock— when you start to set a pace, you note with annoyance that Taehyun just can’t stop trying to take over, his hands traveling to your waist to try and guide you, his hips fucking up to meet your pace. It’s endearing, for a moment, but then you find that he begins to get too handsy, his hands now lost underneath your shirt and trailing over your breasts curiously.

“Okay now, don’t get too ahead of yourself,” you chide condescendingly, stopping your pace and sinking onto him, your weight fully on him as you swat his hands off. Taehyun begins to protest immediately, groaning about how mean and unfair you’re being. His hands attempt to go back to your waist, but you slap them off again, giving him a glare that makes him pout at you.

Thoughts on how to get him to listen to you course through your mind, unsure of what to do until one hits you like a freight train.

Taehyun watches in confusion as you reach for your hair, unsure of what to make of the sly smile on your face— it’s only once he sees the pretty bow unravel from your head that his eyes widen in understanding.

“Oh no,” he mutters, your smile only growing wider as you reach for his hands— he retaliates, bringing his wrists together and just outside your reach, “oh hell no, c’mon!”

“Give me your hands,” you huff, lips pressing together in annoyance as he shakes his head and puts them over his head instead, just out of your reach, “give me your hands or I walk out right now.”

Taehyun knows how you are. You’re completely serious about that.

“C’monnnn,” he groans, reluctantly offering his hands out for you to take. He watches with a petulant look as you wrap the ribbon around his wrists, tying them together so quickly he’s barely able to process what you’re doing, “please, I just wanna touch you.”

You ignore him, adding the final touch with careful hands; the bow on his wrists is just as pretty as the proud smile on your face, he notes bitterly.

“Perfect,” you murmur to yourself, pushing his bound hands against his chest, holding onto them for leverage as you begin to move again; you can practically see all the thoughts leave his mind as he feels you around him, sucking him in and clenching with each prod against your sweet spot, hips angling so you’re hitting it perfectly.

With a cruel curiosity, you shift on top of him, a hand holding his wrists down while the other drags his shirt up— though expected, you can’t help but whistle at the sight, running a hand over his abs, watching eagerly as he flinches from the contact. Without much of a thought, you bend down to place a kiss on his stomach, laughing at the soft whine you get in return. Sitting back up, you go back to the pace you set before, satisfied by the flustered man you see beneath you.

Your nails are digging into his wrists; the orgasm he took from you is quickly building back up, your lips swollen and shining from how bitten they are— your cunt gushes around him, a ring beginning to form at the base of his length; Taehyun’s eyes roll back at the sight.

The pretty moans you’re letting out and the tight grip your pussy has on him is making it impossible for him to last— he’s only a bit behind you as you feel your knees begin to become weak, your pace inconsistent as you grind on him in search of more.

“M’close… fuck…” you breathe out, hovering over Taehyun and caging him in— the roles have been reversed now, your elbows on each side of his head holding you up as you press yourself against him, your pace agonizingly slow as you lean down to kiss him— it’s sloppy and neither of you are entirely in your right minds, pathetically moaning into each other’s mouths the closer to your peak you get.

It’s nice to feel the heat of your body against his, but what you’re doing now simply isn’t enough for Taehyun. And though he knows you strictly forbade him, he can’t help himself from reaching down to grab your side, startling you and forcing you to sit up in confusion.

“Sorry, I just— I’m so close, I need more,” he says, fingers digging into your side and thighs flexing beneath you— his brows furrow in concentration and next thing you know, he’s fucking up into you.

The yelp you let out only makes Taehyun’s cock twitch inside you— you sound so good like this, overwhelmed and ruined, unable to stop or control the way he bucks his hips up into you, his hands on your side forcing you to come down on him with every thrust— you’re falling forward and pressing down on his chest in an attempt to not lay on him entirely, and Taehyun thinks that he might’ve just gotten the sight of you bouncing on top of him ingrained into his mind now.

“Oh fuck, you keep fucking squeezing me— are you close? Yeah? I am too,” he moans, watching as you hang your head and dig your nails into his skin— you’re both soooo close, Taehyun can feel it— and before he can second guess himself, words spill from his mouth in a desperate haste.

“Can I cum inside you?” he asks, your eyes snapping open at the question— they meet his stupid, shiny round eyes, turned completely glassy as he tilts his head, his pace never ceasing for a second. “Can I, can I please? You’re so pretty, feel so good, c’mon, just wanna fill you up like you deserve—”

“Shit, yeah,” you whine, not needing much convincing in the first place to agree. “Fill me up, c’mon tyunnie, wanna be full—!”

The sound of the cute nickname coming from you sets Taehyun off instantly; his cock bottoms out and his hand slams your body down, your faint gasp barely registering in his mind as he finally cums— and it’s so much, spurts and spurts of warm cum filling you up and setting you off seconds after.

When Taehyun feels your cunt fluttering around him, he helps you ride it out; even if it means his eyes get watery and his cock hurts with every thrust into you. He still does it, the overstimulation a small price to pay for being able to watch you fall apart on top of him, moaning out his name so nicely that he never wants it to be said by anyone that’s not you from now on.

You’re an out of breath, sweaty mess by the time you finally come to your senses— well, kind of. You’d still rather not accept that womanizing student athlete Taehyun finally succeeded in getting in your pants. Maybe now he’ll finally leave you alone; you try to ignore the disappointed pang you get in your stomach from the thought.

Beneath you, Taehyun simply pants, eyes closed in a sweet bliss; when they open back up, he looks at you with such fondness you can’t help but startle.

“Can I take you out on a date?”

Your eyes widen, and you try to pretend as though the question doesn’t immediately lift up your mood. (Though the way your lips quirk up in an amused smile is definitely a giveaway.)

“You ask this now?” you say, crossing your arms and letting out a soft tsk, “I feel like it’s supposed to go the other way around.”

Taehyun smiles, and you can’t resist the contagious sight.

“I know. Sorry for being so irresistible.”

Your smile drops.

“Just for that, I’m saying no.”

“Waitwaitwait—” You make a move to get off Taehyun, but are stopped immediately with his hands on your side, forcing you to stay put the best you can— he tugs you back into him, cradling your face and ignoring your protests to let go.

“I lied, I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry,” he coos, smiling at the way you continue to glare at him; so cute, he thinks, unable to stop himself from craning his neck up and placing a peck on your lips— you melt instantly, giggling softly and placing a peck of your own on the tip of his nose.

“I’ll see you after practice then.”

#txt fanfic #txt fanfiction #txt imagines #txt oneshots #txt ff #txt x reader #txt smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #taehyun smut #taehyun ff #taehyun imagines #taehyun oneshot #taehyun x reader #taehyun fanfic #taehyun fanfiction #[2K event!]#[the mic is yours]#[nsfw]

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he-calls-me-kitten · 10 months ago

Note

Recently got busy and haven't had time to be around at all .. I just skimmed through whatever I have missed while I was away and I realized how badly I missed your writing style... It's just so ue2ge8eh27db❤️❤️⁉️⁉️ I can't really explain it.. its scrumptious, very very yummy... So I come with a little request... We know the obey men are quite and as a short girlie that's just like so fucking attractive like?????????? Sirrrr???? 😖😖

Imaginee... getting picked up by them and quite literally hanging off their cock as they just dangle you in the air, your feet not touching the ground as they just fuck yiu silly, watching your writhe and sob as their cock leaves a bulge on your stomach as you claw at their arms. They don't even gotta be trying, your just go dumb on their cock, crying how it's too big and having them bully themselves in you...

Basically that prompt with barbatos, Simeon and beel

I'm a very horny Tumblr user as you can tell LMAO

Love you though, take rests, eat, drink, stay healthy, darling. Mwah 💋

-M. 🪭🪷

Oh my god look who's back?!!! Hey M!!! Missed you loads, hopefully life eases up on you, busy little thing! Thank you for checking in, it means the world ❤️

And your ideas...just *chef's kiss*. Here's another treat for the short AFAB folks with size kink out there!!!

Little Body Big Heat

Afab! MC x Barbatos, Simeon, Beelzebub

Barbatos mock apologizes as you pant and plead him to stop. But he's barely even doing anything really. All he's doing is just standing there, carrying you in his arms, holding you so close.

You're the one struggling and twitching to take him in more or push him out. The way you are writhing - he genuinely cannot tell but he sure is enjoying the show.

"MC, use your words, won't you? I'm sorry I can't understand you when you're like this, my love." He coos, brushing hair away from your face.

"Mhhmm- B-Barb please.... please it's too much. Please ....just... help me move..." You struggled to string a sentence together.

And he finally the gracious butler takes pity on you. You're asking so nicely after all.

"Is this better?" He moves so painfully slow, you whine into his ears. "Oh? Would you like me to be... faster?" He kisses your neck, feeling the vibrations of your delightful complains, which soon would turn into delightful screams. And he wants everyone to hear them too.

Simeon's angelic side simply ceases to exist when it comes to his desire for you. Honestly what were you thinking falling asleep, sitting on his lap. Don't you know he already has a hard time behaving himself around you?

"Did you have a good sleep, MC?" He threads his fingers through your hair, pulling you closer for a kiss. "As you can see...I've run into quite the problem. I can't go home to Luke while I'm like this now, can I?"

You take some time to come to your senses. After all, it's not every day you wake up with Simeon's erection between your legs.

"Would you like to use me...to calm it down?" You gingerly try to hold him down there, it took both of your hands yet he was still much too big for you. He made a low groan at the contact.

"Really, you wouldn't mind?" He asks even as his fingers are already touching your waist, slowly pulling off your top.

"Your sense of duty is really admirable, MC." He chuckles as he pulls off your shorts, now undoing his own pants. "Now then, where would you like me?"

"You...can choose." You let him feast on you with his eyes and hands, enciting soft whimpers and moans. His fingers delight at the wetness pooled between your legs, toying with you before pressing his erection against your puffy clit.

He pushes into your hole, stretching you out but before you can't even let out a sound. His tongue is inside your mouth devouring your screams. You've taken him in so well. He can feel himself bulge out your stomach. "Does that feel good, my little lamb?"

You nod even tears collect at the corner of your eyes. "So good..so... full... It's toobiigg... you'resooo big S-Simeon... please..." Oh how he loves doing this to you.

Beelzebub's length is only the second most dangerous thing about him. The first is his stamina. You realise this now as you have been pressed against his lockers for what feels like hours. Your feet haven't touched the ground in so long.

"Beel...a-are you still.. not done..." You watched him pant, looking at you with a frenzied look in his eyes. When you told him you'd help him get his mind off food, this is not how he thought it would go.

"Beel! I-I know you're really famished ..but ...but you can't... keep...doing this...ahhhmn..mnhn Beel I'm about to...cum again...stop please..." He kept sucking your slick up, right through your orgasm. Talk about overstimulation.

He already tormented you with his tongue down there till you were leaking through your underwear. And now that he was too aroused to calm down, you simply had to let him fuck you. "Just...one last time, MC. I promise."

Yeah sure. He said that two rounds ago. Seriously you wondered how you had not passed out yet. But then again, everytime he moved - you swear he kept discovering a new pleasure point inside you.

"MC your face right now...you look so cute...I'm sorry I couldn't stop myself...and you feel so warm..." He plunged in and out of you again, bouncing you on his dick effortlessly. Of course he hasn't thought about food, he's been too busy devouring you.

#obey me smut #obey me barbatos #obey me beel #obey me Simeon #obey me x reader smut #obey me asks

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shotmrmiller · 1 year ago

Text

The thought of toxic Dom!Simon not being exclusive with you is actually tilting me so I’m gonna write about it.

–

As per usual, you’re draped over Johnny’s legs on the couch, listening to him talk his nonsense when he brings up Ghost.

“...yeah and Ghost, lass, I’m tellin’ ye, he has got to be hurtin’ the lasses he takes to his quarters. He had this new medic in there screaming and…” but his voice fades, your heartbeat thundering in your ears drowning him out.

He had another woman in his bed. Bastard.

Your eyes sting as your blood boils. Jaw aching from how hard you’re clenching it.

Stupid fucking asshole.

Of course, you hadn’t brought it up. Not like you could, with how he had stuffed your mouth with his cum— but that’s beside the point. Here you had thought it was a given. But no, that motherfucker wastes no time in fucking other bitches while he has you constantly checking your phone hoping he sends a text.

Practically begging for his attention and he’s too busy getting his dick wet.

And there’s no one to blame but yourself. You’re the one who chose to put your feelings into this. He, at no point in time, strung you along. Congratulations, you played yourself. But that doesn’t mean you’re gonna sit there and take it. If he gets to fuck other people, then so do you.

Johhny’s yelp snaps you out of your own furious inner ramblings.

“Hen, ouch! Mind the claws, eh?”

You unclench your hand— you hadn’t realized you were digging your nails into his skin.

“Ye a’right there? Yer face is bright red,” he remarks and you put your clammy hands onto your cheeks in an attempt to calm down.

“Yeah, I’m alright, Johnny boy.”

Releasing a tense breath, you turn to him with a toothy smile.

“Hey, didn’t you have a single friend I could meet? I haven’t gotten laid in—” and Johnny cuts you off with a swipe of his hand.

“Och! Naw! I dinnae care to know ‘bout yer flings. Cease yer yappin’.”

You arch one eyebrow at him and tartly say, “Oh, but I gotta sit here and listen to yours? How does that make sense?”

“I’m the older brother, hen. Do as yer told,” and he yelps again when you pinch his thigh at that. He’s rubbing the spot and you try to not feel guilty at the fact that you might’ve pinched a little too hard— you’re still frothing at the mouth over that asshole.

“So?” you ask again, “Any cute friends?” and he rubs at the scar on his chin before nodding.

“I do. Name’s Gaz. Er, Kyle. He’s been wantin’ to meet ye, actually. I talk about ye all the time and he’s gotten curious. Can give ye his number if ye want. And I dinnae wanna hear ‘bout anythin’ that happens, ye hear me?”

He pulls out his phone and sends you Kyle’s contact. You text him immediately and he responds within minutes.

Johnny snaps his fingers to get your attention and you look up from your phone.

“Snap at me again and I’m biting your fingers off,” you snarl.

“Ye could try, hen. I’ll be back, gonna go get the food we ordered,” and you nod but then Johnny taps your head with his finger.

“And be nice to Gaz. He’s a good lad.”

Rolling your eyes, you say, “Yes, da. I understand,” and he leaves.

The conversation between you and Kyle is light-hearted small talk until he sends a picture of himself wearing aviators— and you can see Ghost’s form in the background. Your rage comes back in full force.

You open snapchat and click on a filter that gives you cat ears and a collar with a bell— taking a photo of yourself holding up two fingers on Johnny’s couch, then press send.

Your phone vibrates and quickly look to see what Kyle said but it’s not him. It’s an unknown number.

You send pictures of yourself to all of Johnny’s friends?

His fucking nerve. The audacity. You grind your teeth and hold back the urge to throw your phone against the wall.

Your nails clack angrily on your phone screen as you reply.

Worry about yourself and that little medic of yours.

A couple of minutes pass with no response until you get a phone call from the unknown number.

You answer the call with a sharp “What.”

“That’s what this is about, pet? Ya mad at me so you throwin’ a tantrum?” he tauntingly chuckles.

You might burst a vessel from the indignation of it all, so you do the only thing you can do. Hang up and block him.

Asshole.

You can’t wait to fuck Kyle and send Ghost the sex tape.

jokes on you, though cuz Ghost just gon show up at Johnny's flat sporting big dark hickeys on his neck lmao i hate him

@luminousbeings-crudematter

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #cod mw2

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azullumi · 1 year ago

Text

“it’s a quarter after one, i’m all alone, and i need you now” ; wanderer

summary — how does he react to you calling him in the middle of the night over some silly reason?

pairing — wanderer (w/gender-neutral reader)

tags — fluff, established relationship, modern settings, not proof-read (i never proof-read) ; ficlet/scenario

words — 760

note — how do people even write dialogues rhat smoothly like i write a single sentencd of whatever they’re saying and i just think, “oh no they won’t say that” and i have to rewrite it 5 more times

a loud sound of a ring echoes throughout the room, disrupting the peaceful flow of tranquil silence that rests in the corners of the place, and abruptly pulling him out of his sleep. wanderer groans, hand reaching out to grab his phone that sits on the nightstand.

the flash of the screen blinded him for a moment, causing him to squint his eyes until his vision adjusted to the brightness.

1:15. the numbers on the very top of his screen says. displayed along with it was your caller id, your contact saved as a nickname that he gave you.

although he didn’t have to question who was calling him at this time as he knew it was you—you were the only exception to his do not disturb focus of his phone, the only contact whose notifications can go through the strict barriers of the status.

the persistent melody continues to ring for a moment before he answers, “this better be important.” despite the nature of his words, there lingered no hint of malice in his tone but instead, a curious blend of weary patience and unspoken understanding. he didn’t mind you bothering him even if it’s nothing important—your intrusion was always a welcome one.

“hey, were you sleeping?”

“not anymore, obviously. what is it?” the line carried the subtle rustle of movement, the telltale sound of rustled sheets, as wanderer shifted and sat upright from where he was, his head resting against the headboard as he waited for you to answer.

“can you accompany me as i go get water?”

a confused ‘huh?’ comes out from his line. just the single syllable itself wrapped with layers of many words, asking you if you were seriously saying that. if you really called him at this time just so you could have him accompany you with the mundane task of getting water.

“i just watched something scary, okay? it’s not my

fault that the house in the movie looked similar to mine and also do you know what time—don’t laugh!”

“are you genuinely afraid over something as trivial as that?” wanderer says amidst the fading echoes of his laughter, leaving a ghost of what might pass for a smile on his expression. he seems amused over the predicament that you were having; that is just like him, finding entertainment in your suffering.

“whatever, i’m going to go get my water now.” what proceeded was the sound of your footsteps, indicating your journey to the kitchen. “don’t you dare hang up on me.”

“i wasn’t planning to.”

and as if i would. but the unspoken words dissolved on his throat before he could even get himself to say it, leaving him with nothing but silence as he listened to your voice instead, talking about whatever as if a soothing balm that eases the fear which nestles in your nerves.

“i saw this cat earlier this morning and it was so grumpy. it reminded me of you.”

“you think that in every grumpy cat that you see.”

“well, you act like one.”

in that moment, the simple act of conversing between you two becomes a lifeline, bridging the gap between fear and solace. your topics jumped from one point to another, never letting the silence fill in the moment—wanderer never ceases to respond to whatever you say, a testament of how he’s always there for you despite the playful teasing sprinkled throughout.

there was the sound of the door closing before he hears you say: “got my water now.”

“figured.”

silence envelopes both sides of the line, albeit, it only lasted for a short moment before being broken up by your voice.

“thanks for picking up the phone.” i mean, he could have chosen to just ignore the ring and continue to sleep but no, he didn’t. instead, he chose to answer and comply with your silly little request because your ass was too scared to go out of your room in the middle of the night, thinking that someone or something was going to come after and chase you just like that one scene in what you watched. he stayed with you all throughout, letting the comfort of his voice dispel the shadows that threatened to linger—even when he was scaring you and telling you that he can hear something.

“not like i don’t answer every time.” you could call him, ring his phone many times no matter what time it is, and he would pick up the phone every single time; that’s just how he is, for you and only you.

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jeonghantis · 2 years ago

Text

✧ — HEAVEN ANGEL (y.jh)

PAIRING ⇝ yoon jeonghan x reader.

SUMMARY ⇝

beautiful, everyone had called you. the compliment lost its charm on you, knowing fully well it’s paid only for the surface-level appearance you kept up and nothing else you had to offer. irritating, he had called you. you let him fuck you.

TAGS ⇝ uni!au, fratboy!jeonghan, fwb, smut, a dash of angst (oopsy!).

WARNINGS ⇝ language, fem!reader (she/her), houseparty scene (not exactly detailed), gossip, explicit sexual content (MINORS DNI!), bathroom (mirror) sex, unrequited crush (or is it?), reader has commitment issues, reader is kinda mean, mentions of p*ss and sh*t but not in a sexual manner, just for jokes.

WORD COUNT ⇝ 4.1k words.

note: funnily enough, i had two requests specifically for house party sex with yoon jeonghan. i lost the ask for them both (accidentally deleted while my laptop glitched). i am insane. and before anyone asks, yes there'll be a part two/prequel :) and also this is somewhat connected to my upcoming cheol fic. so i hope you stay tuned! proofread by the star of my life @cheolhub. sar fr put up with every version and my constant anxiety over every paragraph. i couldn't have done it without them. i love u so much. @szakias was also helpful in keeping me sane as i wrote this out 🙇 i love u so bad. loosely based on the song heaven angel by the driver era. don't think it'd go with the fic but you know :)

reblogs & comments are very much appreciated.

explicit tags under the cut.

EXPLICIT TAGS ⇝ semi-public setting (bathroom sex while there's a party), unprotected sex, dom/sub dynamics, mean dom!jeonghan, sub!reader, dumbification, teasing, petnames (angel), degradation (whore, bitch), dacryphilia, marking, briefest thigh-fucking, clit stimulation, cumming inside, squirting, light overstimulation, (a little) aftercare.

A strange rumor went around the campus. A rumor of a person whose beauty was so out of this world that it was terrifying.

Unreal. Everyone had said. You won’t be able to look her in the eyes!

But beyond that angelic beauty was a personality so sour, no one dared thought to approach her. Those that tried their luck had it beaten right out of them and they came to hate her to hide their broken hearts.

What a bitch, they had said. Does she think she’s all that?

Yoon Jeonghan, for one, thought they were being overly dramatic. It was a strange and interesting phenomenon how gossip can evolve to add in such theatrics. It was like living in one of those regency novels his sister owned which he had perused over on one particularly boring day. Had these people really had nothing better to do with their lives? Were they trying to live in a novel of their own? Jeonghan never understood them, neither cared for these kinds of things. He’d much rather form his opinions. He had better things to do than to dabble in such frivolity.

What a stuck-up, one would say. What better things could Jeonghan be doing that puts him above everyone else?

Oh, fucking the subject of the rumors of course.

“How irritating,” Jeonghan sighed, abruptly ceasing his thrusts inside you to harshly yank you back by your hair.

You yelp, a deer in the headlights, when your neck is forcibly craned back, made to look up at his looming figure. You looked pathetic from where you were pinned against the wall, exposed breasts pressed flush against the cool tiles and your mini skirt flipped upwards to reveal the swell of your bare ass flattened against his hip bone.

“I said to keep your voice down,” he tuts. “Do you want the whole house to hear you?”

“I’m s-sorry,” you stammer out, throat raw and chest heaving.

“Are you?” He mused with a raised brow, mocking and unbelieving.

You couldn’t meet his gaze, or at least you tried to. Jeonghan liked to make eye contact, he once told you, for he loved to see your sanity visibly ebb away from your eyes, leaving you a mindless, glassy-eyed whore. You had not reached that stage, not yet, not when some semblance of your being remained clear in your gaze, dilated pupils fearfully wavering back and forth between his simpering face and the bathroom door where a rather large, booming frat party laid beyond.

He cocked his head to the side and tightened his grip on your hair, forcing your eyes back on him. He leaned forward until he’s breathing your air, and all you could do is stare up at him pitifully with quivering lips. “Or…” he starts, his lips twisting cruelly. “Do you want them to hear you? Want them hear how good you’re being fucked right now?”

You remain silent, the lump on your throat bobbing as you swallow hard. But your walls tighten around him and Jeonghan couldn’t help the curve of his lips.

“You’re really weird, you know that?” Jeonghan sighed, releasing his hold on you. A lithe finger curls a lock behind your ear, the gesture jarringly affectionate from his prior cruelty, before his mouth moves to hover over it, his warm breath tickling. “You moan loudly when I tell you to shut up. You shut up when I ask you questions. Have I fucked you stupid already? Or have you always been stupid?”

You let out a shaky breath. “I’m sorry.”

“Is that all you know what to say?” Jeonghan laughs. “A renowned bitch, known to reject her admirers without so much of a second thought, now reduced into this pathetic bitch in heat. What would everyone else think, hm?”

His derogatory spats clamored down to your bones, making you shake with emotions that you couldn’t quite place with your hazed mind. At one point, with the last bit of pride you had left, you’re irritated, and it’s shown in the twitch of your eye and narrowed gaze. Then there’s embarrassment, shown by how your face warms and flushes. There was no denying how fucking dazed and desperate you had been, that much was true, and the demeaning tone of his voice did its job of filling you with shame. The twisted part of it all is that you enjoyed every minute of this ridicule thanks to pure, carnal desire. You couldn’t care less about what other people would say about you, what matters now is when the fuck would Jeonghan move his dick inside you.

But Jeonghan being Jeonghan, he wanted his answers. His last question was rhetoric. You knew. He knew. And yet he looks down at you with cruel expectancy masked in the sweetest, angelic smile that has fooled so many, and had once fooled you.

��I-I don’t care,” you say, deciding to be honest. “Who the fuck cares what they think?”

“Oh, but I’d like to know,” Jeonghan said. He hums for a moment, looking you over in consideration, before speaking again. “But you’re right. They don’t matter right now, do they?”

You release a breath you hadn’t known you were holding.

And Jeonghan watched, amused. He wasn’t done speaking. “But I’d at least like to know what you think.”

You blinked. “What?”

Before you could question him some more, Jeonghan pulls out of you, leaving your weeping cunt fluttering around nothing. You cry out, high and broken, from having pleasure ripped away with such cruelty. Jeonghan ignores it and his own throbbing problem as he goes to peel you off the wall with a rough tug on your arm. He has you by over the sink, has you staring at yourself through the vanity mirror. Jeonghan casts a smile at you through the reflection, his gaze weighted as he drinks in the sight of you as well.

Jeonghan had to admit, the rumors weren’t all baseless. You were stunningly beautiful, there was no denying that when anyone with functioning eyes could see it. The way you carried yourself tells him you’re well aware of it too. You held confidence with a raised chin, an allure with your own posture and stance even in this vulnerable position you were forced in, looking as disheveled as you are with tufts of your hair sticking out in every direction, framing your flushed face. Your blouse had been carefully unbuttoned despite how desperately urgent you both had been for each other the moment the bathroom door shut closed, but the rush was evident in how your bralette had been roughly tugged down enough for your perked breasts to spill over. Jeonghan had been anything but kind to your skin, having left angry red splotches blossoming all over your chest; you weren’t either on his, knowing if Jeonghan had craned his neck enough from behind you, they’d find similar markings on his throat, though considerably less in quantity.

Jeonghan also looked considerably less damning. He had not made moves to remove any of his upper clothing and so he remained presentable with his black varsity over a loose white shirt. Even his long hair had not looked loosened from where it’s tied up. But below, away from the mirror’s sight, his dark jeans had been unbuttoned and unzipped for his curved dick to spring out freely, for it now to rub over your ass teasingly.

“So?” Jeonghan asks. “What do you think of yourself?”

You glare at him through the mirror. “Fucking awful.”

“Of course you’d see it that way,” he laughs, resting his chin on your shoulder. “For me, I think this is the most beautiful you’ve ever been.”

It’s your turn to look unbelieving, but your pulse rouses.

Jeonghan grinned. “Ask me why.”

You reluctantly indulge him, “Why?”

“Because you finally look fucking awful,” Jeonghan said cheerfully. You turn to glower at him but stop when he lifts a hand to trace a line over your chest, mapping out the marks adorning you with a nimble finger. “And because I’m the reason for it.”

“A little vain, don’t you think?” You remark, albeit breathily, your face heated.

“I can be proud of my work,” he quipped, pressing his smile against your skin. He looks you over once more, taking in every detail down to the last freckle, and something deep in him thrums sweetly. “And I had a beautiful canvas to begin with.”

“How charming,” you sighed, derisive, as you threw your head back against his shoulder so you could look at him with batting lashes. “Can you fuck me now?”

“But I mean it,” Jeonghan murmured and relented, reaching around you so he could press a roughened finger over your swollen clit.

“Mean what?” You ask, but you’re barely listening, not when your focus is narrowed to the deft circles he’s making on your sweet nerves.

Jeonghan guides his length between your thighs, letting it glide languidly right under your weeping and throbbing cunt at a lazy pace. His lips are still curled, his eyes bright when he gazes down at you before he’s responding, “You’re absolutely beautiful.”

Sincerity was not something you’re used to when it came to the ever sarcastic Yoon Jeonghan, and yet here it was, bleeding into his tone in its purest form. Never in the entire three months of sleeping with him had he ever complimented the way he had just now, and if he had uttered any, it was quickly followed with ridicule or said with ridicule.

Good, he called you when you were obedient.

Cute, he called you when you were crying.

Beautiful. It was new. From him at least.

It was a temporary moment of clarity in your lust-addled head as you blink at him, making sense of what he had said, making sense of the warmth that starts to bloom throughout your chest. And temporary it remained as Jeonghan led his cockhead right back to your entrance, pushing himself in without so much of a warning, and the bare grasp you had on lucidity loosened.

You gasp out loudly, doubling over the bathroom counter as your walls tense and quiver painfully from the sudden breach, but still yield around him nonetheless. Jeonghan was quick to catch you, to force you right back up with his long fingers encircling your throat.

“Again?” Jeonghan barked out a laugh but it’s hoarse. “You really want everyone to hear you.”

“I c-can’t help it,” you whined, your head resting weakly against his shoulder, warm breath puffing over his marred skin.

Jeonghan looked unimpressed. “Well, help it.”

“Oh, fuck!” you cry out when he starts driving into you with no sense of leniency, your body thrown fully forward and voice shaking from the repeated impact that clatters your bones.

“You’re horrible at this,” he cackled. He grips at your hips this time, pulling you hard against him, balls slapping heavily against your ass. He's practically pulling and pushing your cunt onto his cock as if you weighed nothing, as if you were nothing but a cocksleeve for him to enjoy. Each decadent slide of his length in your heat draws out breathy grunts from him, his head drunk with pleasure.

You weren’t faring any better. Your head is thrown back to reveal flushed skin stained with tears that drip from closed eyes as you try desperately to hold yourself up with palms flat against the cold marble counter. There was nothing else for you to do but feel it, feel his cock stretch your pussy, its silken insides practically making way for him with each piston that has you crying out more in volume and pitch.

“Open your eyes.” His hot, staggered breath wafted over your ear. His thrusts ease its pace, slowing into something more languorous and teasing. “Open your eyes and look at me.”

You whine but your eyelids flutter open. Glassy, unfocused eyes find Jeonghan.

A devious smile splinters across his face.

There you are.

“Please,” you whimper, your hand reaching to paw at his nape.

“What is it, angel?” His tone is sweet but it rolls off his tongue sharply. “I n-need - ”

Jeonghan laughed cruelly. “I don’t think you’re in the position to demand something from me when you can’t even listen to my one demand.”

You grab at the ends of his hair and rock your hips back into him, fucking your cunt right on his dick in a faster, but struggling, rhythm.

“Hannie,” you mewl. “You feel too good. Please, please, just fuck me. I can’t help it, I just - Please? I’ll b-be good. Just please fuck me, Hannie.”

Jeonghan doesn’t respond right away to your pleas, allowing himself to revel in the broken desperation you display with an amused smile and delighted throbs made inside your velvety walls. Perhaps Jeonghan should be used to this sight now. He’s seen you in much messier and miserable states, ruined you far worse than he had now. And yet he’s plenty invigorated than he’s ever been, pure excitement searing his veins.

What would everyone else think, hm?

Jeonghan thought it was rhetoric. Jeonghan said it didn’t matter.

It wasn’t. It did.

“I don’t think you can be good,” he began as a hand inches forward between your legs, “But if you’re going to be loud, then at least use my name. That way, everyone will know who’s fucking you so good.”

“H-Hannie!” You mewl, oh so pitchy, as your frame jerks from the brush of the roughened pads of his fingers on your clit, pleasure flickering up your abdomen so wildly that you could not easily bear through it.

“There we go,” he crooned, pride gleaming in his eyes. Jeonghan was much too familiar with your body by now, so it’s easy when his hips brings back its pace, fucking at your insides at an angle so the length of him glides over your sweet nerves with each impact.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you sob out like a mantra, spreading your legs a little wider to accommodate his brutality, your channel tightening around his throbbing girth. “Ngh, Jeonghan, right there! Oh my god - !”

The nectar that leaks out of you coated his shaft with an amazingly significant amount that makes the slides so much easier and louder, the wet noises bouncing off the four walls and meshing with your own cries of his name like he wanted. It was almost enough to drown out the muffled music of the party that seemed many worlds away now.

Jeonghan soon enough joined in this sinful chorus, letting out panted moans of his own. Some were incoherent but when it wasn’t, it was mostly your name, just in case everyone couldn’t tell who was screaming his name like a wailing prayer. How he’s managed to keep himself restrained and sane for this long was a strong feat in itself. Your everything put him in a trance, every touch of you—nails, fingers, and obviously your tight cunt, was a little too much, it was dizzying.

Even at your seemingly waning state, your hips somehow finds itself moving back against him, undulating with the same force and rhythm. You’re driven by the tightness both in your chest and in your abdomen, white flashing across your vision the more you keep up your pace, your moan becoming more muddled as your thoughts were. And when balance fails you, having you bow back down and lean all your weight on your forearm, Jeonghan inclines with you, his chest pressed right against your back and you could feel his raging heartbeat that very well matched your own.

“How are you holding up, angel?” He chuckled and pressed his face against your neck, his breathing hard and warm on your skin, as his thrusts become more shallow. “Doing okay?”

“I-I’m close,” you whimper. “Please, Hannie - ”

“I’ve got you,” he whispered back as nails dig crescents on your waist, muscles flexing as the intensity of his strokes inside you extends once again and remains at the same tempo. He doesn’t know what came over him the next moment, his senses just completely overtaken and all he could do was be at awe at all this perfect bliss you’re bringing him, and only him. “You’re mine tonight,” he breathed. “I’m going to fucking ruin you for everyone, angel, you understand that? You’re mine.”

There it was again. The clarity. The warmth. It all happened in a single moment.

You turn your head and stare up at him. Jeonghan stared right back at you. A completely indecipherable expression confronts another.

Where it had been temporary then, it intensified now. Where there had been questions, suspicions took its place.

Then came fear.

Jeonghan catches a glimpse of it in your eyes and for the very first time, his stomach sank at the sight of it.

But his facade is flawless. It comes too naturally before he’s fully aware—a sweet curl of lip, the faintest crinkle at the corners of his eyes. He’s fooled too many. He could fool you again.

Jeonghan takes advantage of your moment of daze to toy once again with your clit, and is relieved at how immediate your body reacts.

“Ngh, J-Jeonghan!” You keen high as you reach a hand to cup over to where his fingers flicks and pinches at the delicate bud, pressing down on him for added pressure to alleviate your own self. Oh, how embarrassingly easy it was for your thoughts to be completely overwritten by your own lustful desires, but as you have learned, it always prevails, doesn’t it?

Your thighs seize up from the overwhelming pleasure crawling up your spine; while your rhythm falters from it, Jeonghan’s is relentless even when his own breathing turned ragged and his body strained from the effort. It all becomes so much so fast; the feverish heat spreads under your skin, tightening up coils in your abdomen, but your frame is trembling, as if a chill settled so deeply into your bones.

“Hannie, Hannie, I’m going to -”

“I know,” Jeonghan grunts as his face falls in the juncture of your neck, lips pressed right over your pulse point. He can feel your walls start to restrict around his twitching girth, and it did little to aid his own self-control. “Let go for me, angel. C’mon. Let me hear you. Let them hear you.”

And you do. With the most shrilling wail, you come, your warm release spilling onto his cock and, much to your surprise, squirting onto themselves, their clothes, and his hand.

“Holy shit,” Jeonghan marveled under his breath. If he could burn a memory into his brain, this would be fucking it. Just you shivering and quivering around his dick. Your back prettily arched back with tits hardened and perked. The fluids spurting all over yourself and him so shamelessly and so intensely until you're convulsing back down on your front from it all.

Watching this whole brilliance of you, just reminded Jeonghan of how lucky he truly was to have you like this, to be able to make you this fucked out with crossed eyes, pupils blown wide out of proportion. Hidden concerns were washed away by this single glance, replaced with nothing but gratitude, pride, and true bliss. And with all that and a poorly thrown out warning, he’s thrown over the edge. A moan is punched out of his gut as he’s releasing inside you with one last valiant thrust, his cum white and hot as it spurts and paints your walls.

And poor you having to tolerate this continued abuse of your insides that pushes you close into the sphere of overstimulation. You’re spent, fatigue already ebbing into your consciousness, but you stay still for him, letting him use you for all your worth until the last few twitches of cock, until the last few spews of his cum is fucked back into you.

For the next few moments, only a dulled bass fills the air as two heaving bodies try to steady themselves. When the remnants of carnality wane, Jeonghan finally pulls out of you, your channel left with nothing but their shared release dripping out of you, beading down your legs. There’s a crack of a smile thrown your way through the reflection just as you feel a light tap made over your cunt. You resist the urge to roll your eyes at the gesture. And to rock back into it.

“If I clean you up,” Jeonghan began, eyeing the puddle on the floor, “could you help me with the rest of your mess?”

Now you did roll your eyes. “Ever the gentleman.”

“Hey, I just thought I should ask. It’s a lot.”

Your face warmed up. “Forget it, I’ll clean myself up. You clean the floor.” You move to lift yourself up from the counter, but catch yourself as your muscles start to strain, limbs shaking.

Jeonghan raised a brow.

You winced. “Can you help me over to the toilet?”

“Need to piss it all out again?” He jests and takes a hold of your arm to gently pick you up.

You sneered. “That wasn’t piss, asshat.”

Jeonghan laughed. “I know it wasn’t. But it was hot as hell.”

“Shut the hell up.”

That only made him laugh again.

Then came a knock, a very aggressive one.

“Yoon Jeonghan, are you done fucking in there?” Said a male voice beyond the door, sounding just as irritated as his knock was.

“Ah, damn,” Jeonghan muttered quietly to himself, then raised his voice at the door, “There are other bathrooms, Cheol!”

Choi Seungcheol, you now recognized Jeonghan’s fellow frat brother, responded right away. “All occupied! Can you hurry your shit up?”

“No!” said Jeonghan, but he’s quick to guide you over next to the toilet with an arm now encircling your waist; you tell yourself this was just a helpful gesture, but there’s no helping how your skin heats up under his touch. From where you stand leaning against the wall, you watch him rush around the bathroom, first cleaning himself up and shoving his dick back in his jeans before he throws a clean towel down on the floor to soak up your mess.

“I’ll leave first,” Jeonghan explained as he sauntered back to you with soap and another fresh towel in hand, setting them down where it’s within your reach. “I’ll appease Cheol first and buy you some time to clean up.”

“Is he always so impatient?” You asked.

“Always,” he sighed, “but once I explain, he’ll understand. I don’t know why he’s fussier than usual though.”

“Maybe he needs to shit.”

“Shitting at a party? That’s disgusting of him.”

“He has no respect for the partygoers out there.”

You exchange grins with each other.

Then another round of knocking came around.

“In a minute!” Jeonghan called back, trying to sound calm but his face was scowling. He lowers his voice when he speaks to you again, “Are you sure you don’t want any help? Now I just want to make him wait.”

“Go,” you tell him and wave him off. “He sounds like he’s about to kick the door open. I’d rather not have that.”

Jeonghan huffed a laugh at that. “I wouldn’t put it past him.”

Jeonghan turned to leave. Your heart lurched from your chest.

“Jeonghan?” You call out before you could stop yourself.

He looked back. “Hm?”

“Do we…” You didn’t know what to say, how to phrase it. “Should we talk about it?”

It was miniscule, but you caught his wince. “Talk about what?”

“About what you said?”

“Angel, I said a lot of things.”

“Don’t play stupid with me. You said - ”

Another loud knock, quickly followed by Seungcheol yelling. “Jeonghan! Hurry up!”

Jeonghan let out another sigh, a mix of annoyance with a tinge of relief. “We’ll have to talk about it another time.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Jeonghan - ”

“We will talk about it,” he said firmly, his tone spoke of sincerity, but his face said otherwise. “Just not now. Not yet.”

You gave him a skeptical look.

He tried for a smile, perfectly saccharine. You saw right through it.

“Fine,” you relented.

Jeonghan gave you a grateful nod of his head and made a move to leave again. You watch again with the strangest restriction in your chest.

“Cheol, you have got to learn patience,” Jeonghan said once he cracked the door open.

“And you have got to learn to be quiet,” the disembodied voice of Seungcheol parried back. “I’m sure the people passing the hallway could hear you both.”

“Well, we were trying to get the whole house to hear us.” Jeonghan spared a quick glance your way and grinned. You wanted to punch his teeth in.

Seungcheol groaned. “Of course you fucking were.”

Jeonghan laughed and finally stepped out of the bathroom. “At least I’m getting my dick wet. You haven’t been with anyone since - Oh, I spoke too soon. Cheol, you sneaky son of a - ”

The door shut closed behind him, leaving you all alone, and you buried your face in your hands.

#seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #jeonghan smut #yoon jeonghan smut #jeonghan fanfic #keir.rqst

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moonstruckme · 1 year ago

Note

Olá, adorei sua escrita, peço desculpas por quaisquer erros de digitação (inglês não é minha primeira língua).

Gostaria de solicitar algo com poly!marauders reagindo a eles no meio de alguma discussão, e quando levantam a voz ou fazem alguma movimento repentino ela apenas se encolhe de medo

(só escreva se você se sentir confortável com isso, peço desculpas se for um assunto delicado)

No worries, sweetness! I worry I don't communicate this very well on my requests page, but so long as any abuse is in the past and not still happening while the story takes place, I'm totally good! Thank you so much for requesting, hope you enjoy it <3

cw: implied past abuse

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

Your face is burning hot, and you’re hoping no one can tell it’s from how hard you’re working to hold back tears.

“I’m telling you,” James says with a severity that doesn’t suit him, “they’re not good for you. You need to stop hanging around them.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” You wave him off, relieved that your voice comes out as even as it does. “They’re my friends.”

“They don’t fucking act like your friends.” Sirius is looking at you like you’re stupid, and you try not to tremble in the face of his anger. Every muscle in your body had tensed at the first show of frustration, an exasperated huff from Remus nearly ten minutes ago, and it’s only gotten worse since. You know, logically, that this situation doesn’t call for fight-or-flight, but there’s no telling your nervous system that. “They left you drunk and completely alone in the middle of the night. They’re assholes.”

“What, just because you don't like them?” You glower at Sirius from across the room, and James shakes his head disappointedly from the couch. “You don’t get to dictate who I hang out with!”

“You’re completely blind to it!”

“You’re being ridiculous!”

“That’s enough!” Remus roars, and everything else ceases to matter.

Your shoulders hunch in to protect your middle, one hand coming up in front of your face instinctively as your eyes squeeze shut.

It’s only an instant of terror, shooting through your nerves like a lightning strike, and then your heart starts beating again, now at double time. You raise your head to find Remus looking cracked open, mouth parted in silent shock and anguish.

“I’m sorry,” you say quickly, holding up your hands as if to ward off the effects of what you’ve just done. You’re trembling all over. “I’m sorry, that was—I didn’t mean to.”

“Sweetheart.” James starts to reach for you, then stops, wrapping his arms around his torso like he’ll lunge for you if not restrained. His voice is so quiet you can barely hear it over your own heartbeat. “Don’t apologize, please. Are you okay?”

You nod, fighting the urge to shake out the adrenaline still working its way through your body. “Yeah, I’m fine. I didn’t mean to react like that. It wasn’t you guys, I’m sorry.” A traitorous tear skids down your face. You brush it away.

“No.” The word sounds like it’s hooked from inside Remus’ throat and scraped forcibly out. “I shouldn’t have yelled like that. I’m so sorry.” He looks at you, eyes imploring. “Do you wanna sit down?”

“I’m fine,” you say again.

“Angel.” James’ eyebrows come together in pity. “You’re shaking all over. Come sit, we don’t have to fight anymore.”

You blow out a frustrated breath, ignoring the warm wetness on your cheeks as more tears escape. “I’m not—I don’t want to stop fighting just because of this. I feel like I’m manipulating you,” you say, tone edged with bitterness. “I’m not trying to, though. Can we just forget that happened?”

“Hey,” Sirius says, uncharacteristically firm, “stop that.” You’d been afraid to make eye contact with him before, but now you turn to find he’s looking at you like you’ve clawed his heart right out. You’re all the more miserable for it, for the pain you know you’re dredging up for him. You both have experience with raised voices and forceful gesturing. Both harbor old and unreliable notions about what those lead to, instincts you can’t shed. “You can’t manipulate us by accident, understand? You don’t always have control over reactions to things like that. Just…” His forehead creases with a helplessness you recognize. “Just take a breath.”

He waits, eyes boring into yours, until you do. It shakes on the way out, but it feels good.

“Okay. Do you want a hug?”

Your throat clogs so no words can pass through, but you nod, and Sirius steps toward you. His arms come around you slow but solid, feeling out how much you want. You press your face the juncture of his shoulder and his neck, hands clutching at his back, and he tightens his grip on you. Under your hand, you can feel his heart beating almost as desperately as yours.

Sirius doesn’t quite release you as he walks the both of you to the couch, folding you into his lap, but you pull away once your tremors ease. James looks miserable with worry, and you take his hand, squeezing reassuringly. “I didn’t mean to scare you guys,” you say. It’s as close to an apology as you expect they’ll allow you.

“Don’t worry about that,” Remus insists. “I mean it, I shouldn’t have raised my voice that way. Regardless of your history, it was uncalled for, and I’m sorry.”

You give him the best smile you can offer at the moment. “It’s okay, really.”

“You’re not manipulating anyone,” Sirius says, hand still tight around your waist, “but let’s save the rest of that conversation for another time, yeah?”

You nod reluctantly, and James gives Sirius a pleading look until he lets you go, nudging you into James' side. “I’m fine,” you insist again as he presses his lips to the top of your head, rubbing your upper arm. “Don’t worry about me.”

He scoffs lightly, kissing downward to your forehead, the tip of your nose. “I always worry about you. Nothing you can do about that.”

Some of the tension clears from Remus’ countenance as he watches you. “I agree, let’s pick that discussion back up when we all have clearer heads. Dovey, can I make you some tea?”

“I don’t need to be coddled,” you argue as James moves his attentions to your cheek.

“Oh, let him,” Sirius says, rolling his eyes, “it’ll make him feel better. You can make me some tea, Moony.”

“I’ll take some, too,” James says. “If it’ll help, of course. Actually, do we have any biscuits?”

You laugh as Remus sets off happily for the kitchen.

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uhohdad · 6 months ago

Text

(18+) ABUSE & NON-CONSENSUAL THEMES

⁺₊ ⭑⁺₊ ⭑₊⋆⁺₊ ⁺₊ ⭑⁺₊ ⭑₊⋆⁺₊ ⁺₊ ⭑⁺₊ ⭑₊⋆⁺₊

König Voiceline Inspired Drabbles

“I can make you talk.”

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“This is a huge misunderstanding! I just got lost!”

The coarse ropes around your wrists and ankles are unforgiving, a rashy burn igniting your skin with each desperate thrash against them. Another length of thick, scratchy rope is snug to the space between your chest and your stomach, keeping your back flush with the chair you’re secured to.

You have no idea if anyone can even hear your echoed pleas, the blindfold tied tightly around the back of your head sparing you from your unbearably quiet, freezing prison.

“Please!”

Your voice is raw and sniveling, tears soaking into your blindfold before they can crest your cheeks. You end on a whine, your head lulling forward in defeat.

The sound of a heavy metal door creaking open floods the room, and your head perks up with a gasp.

“Please, please - help me!”

You get no response, only the sound of heavy bootsteps as they approach. Intimidating and confident, each slow, rhythmic step making you brace a little tighter.

You suck in a breath through your teeth, shoulders pulled up and body trembling in your chair.

“Please,” You whisper, your shaky plea made of only breath, “I’m not supposed to be here.”

The bootsteps come to a stop in front of you, the sound of your squeaky, stuttered breaths following.

“No, you’re not.”

You flinch at your captor’s voice, rough and gravelly and stern, certainly not the voice of the savior you were praying for.

“So what are you doing here, hm?”

“I-” Your mouth is dry, words cracked and broken, “I got lost- Please! I made a wrong turn and I got lost! I- I didn’t mean-”

“I’m supposed to believe that?”

He scoffs.

“What business does a brat like you have all the way out here?”

“Wh- it was - my friend! She got drunk, she needed me to pick her up from a- a party.”

His laughs, loud and hearty and truly gut-wrenching.

“There’s nothing out here but us.”

“Y- It was a woods, thing. I don’t know! Some rave in the middle of nowhere, I swear!”

He laughs again, this one low and sinful, a deep hum stitched in.

“Nice try, liebling.”

There’s a pause, and when he speaks again, his low, raspy whisper is inches from your face. The heat of his breath on your cheek sends a shudder down your spine.

“But I don’t believe you.”

You let out a whine, your mouth parting and your brows pinching behind your blindfold.

“Who sent you here, liebling?”

“No one!”

He keeps his face inches from yours, surely enjoying the front row seat to your stammering bottom lip and your pathetic snivels.

“No one?” He asks, tone strict.

The ropes dig further into your skin at your heaved sob.

“I just got lost!”

Your captor laughs again, deep and weighty, a sound that makes your insides twist and forces another whine from your lips.

“I have to admit-”

The cocky smirk on his lips is palpable, dripping from his words and searing your skin on contact.

“I was hoping you would make this difficult for me, liebling.”

You flinch when a large, coarse glove gently melds the side of your face, a gentle thumb hooking underneath your jaw to keep your head titled up at him.

“Usually I prefer more -”

He hums in the tune of condescension as he chooses his next words.

“- Standard methods of torture - ”

He ignores your squirms and your nearly unintelligible, breathy pleas, his hand keeping your head firmly in place.

“But it’s been awhile since I’ve gotten to play with a toy as pretty as you.”

Your body stills, breaths ceasing and heart pounding against your restraints at the implication of his threatening words - spoken with an arrogant, yet eerily soft tongue.

Your captor’s gloved thumb grazes over your chin, pulling down on your plush bottom lip and watching it spring into place once released. He guides your face to the side, soft fabric smoothing against your skin as he places a lingering, clothed kiss on your cheek.

The heart beating furiously in your chest halts at the sound of his pant zipper coming undone.

When he pulls away, he keeps his low, whispered words right in your ear.

“Maybe if I take that sweet little voice away from you, you’ll be eager to use it when I give it back.”

⁺₊ ⭑⁺₊ ⭑₊⋆⁺₊ ⁺₊ ⭑⁺₊ ⭑₊⋆⁺₊ ⁺₊ ⭑⁺₊ ⭑₊⋆⁺₊

“They are no match for me”

“Let’s be honest, it’s better off in my hands”

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azrielsdove · 10 months ago

Text

Just Friends: Cassian x Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+

***

You looked over at your friend, watching the way he threw his head back in laughter. You couldn’t help the way your gaze traveled down his face, focusing on his exposed neck. A large vein rolled up the side, teasing you to come taste. The long strands of his hair brushed over his skin and you imagined how they’d feel wrapped around your fingers. What kind of noises would he make with your lips wrapped—

He turned to you, smile wide. “Distracted by my beauty, are we?” The words were teasing, an innocent joke. You gave him a laugh in response, shaking your head at his antics. At your friend. You dug your nails into your exposed thigh, grounding yourself. Cassian was a friend. Nothing more. No matter how many nights you spent with your hands between your thighs, moaning his name.

You took a quick shot of whatever alcohol was in front of you. These thoughts needed to stop. This was just a simple night with your friends, not the time or place to allow your dirty thoughts about Cass run wild. Even if he looked particularly delectable with his shirt half unbuttoned, pants tight against his legs. You had finished to the idea of riding those thick thighs more than once, the thought causing you to take another shot.

What was wrong with you tonight?

It wasn’t smart to keep pounding alcohol, not when you were already struggling to keep your hands to yourself. It only got worse as the night began to wear down, the others retiring to bed. Cass pulled you into his side for a cuddle as he typically does, is arm wrapped around your waist, hand resting on your thigh. You burned where he touched you, mindlessly drawing little circles on your skin. Your head fell back against his shoulder, eyes fluttering closed. You should be embarrassed to fall apart at the barest of touches, but the overwhelming desire for your friend overshadowed all emotion.

You were too drunk for this.

You could blame exhaustion and alcohol for leaning on him, your breathing a tad too heavy. A laugh sounded next to your ear, warm breath fanning over it. “Tired, dove?”

Gods. His voice was deep, a laugh hidden in his words. You pried your eyes open and looked over at him. “Drunk, more like,” you teased back, forcing your eyes to not dip to his lips. He gave a knowing smile as he leaned in closer, nose brushing your neck. You bit your tongue to keep from moaning at the contact. Ridiculous.

“Are you okay?” Cassian asked, worry written on his face. You nodded, leaning your head back against him and closing your eyes.

“That last shot was a bit too much. Trying to make the room stop spinning.” You laughed, hoping he would buy the excuse. You certainly couldn’t say ‘No Cass, I need you to fuck me right here before I combust.’ Friends don’t do things like that. Especially friends you’ve known for a few hundred years, silently lusting after for a humiliating amount of those. His fingers ceased their little circles on your thigh, hand moving to lay flat against your skin. You tried, and failed, to ignore the way his hand burned against your leg.

You sucked in a few deep breaths, calming your heated skin and racing heart. You felt like the excuse of too much drink would cover up the real meaning behind your actions. Cassian was distracted once again, conversing with Rhys about something you didn’t care to listen to. No, instead you were focused on every part of him that was touching you. Imagining his hand sliding between your thighs, his lips hot on your neck, the way he would encourage you to find your release….

Stop, you chided yourself, sitting upright and opening your eyes. This wasn’t working. You stood rather abruptly, grabbing whichever open bottle of alcohol was closest. You were aware of Cassian and Rhys staring at you, confused by your sudden movement. “I’m going to go outside, it’s a bit too warm in here,” was your mumbled excuse, darting from the room before either could respond. You rubbed your head furiously, cursing yourself as you walked to the closest balcony. Hopefully the cool night air could calm your body down, could force these thoughts out of your head.

You leaned against the railing and looked out over Velaris, drinking slowly from the bottle you had grabbed. If the cooler air wouldn’t help you, maybe drinking until you blacked out would. You stared at the sky, remembering how it feels to be flown around up there, wind whipping your hair. What would it be like if Cassian decided to take you while flying high above?

You groaned, turning and throwing the bottle at the wall behind you. Why won’t these thoughts go? You ran a shaky hand through your hair, willing your mind to relax. “Everything okay?” The voice startled you, eyes jerking up to see…Cassian. Great.

“Yea, yea everything’s fine. Sorry, the bottle uh, slipped.” You were going to jump over the balcony. He stepped closer, looking between the shattered glass and you.

“You’ve been on edge all night. Can I help?” He asked, genuine concern in his eyes. Yea, you were definitely going to jump.

“Oh no, just…thinking.” Every excuse was worse than the last. You couldn’t think straight around him normally, and whatever had come over you tonight was only making it worse. So much worse. He came right next to you, leaning against the balcony as well.

“Okay,” he said, sensing that you didn’t want to talk about what was bothering you. Fine, you could handle him standing next to you. There was nothing sensual about that, just two friends watching the stars.

His arm brushed yours.

You looked down, gauging the distance to the ground.

“Stop,” Cassian whispered, grabbing your arms and turning you to face him. “Please, talk to me.” His hands fell to your waist, tugging you closer. Fuck me, you thought, mind hazy at the simplest touch. This was a nightmare.

A delicious nightmare.

He took a deep breath and stilled. His hands on your waist tightened, pressing you flush against him. His head ducked to your neck, nose brushing your skin as he inhaled. “Oh,” he murmured, “oh.” You were frozen in place, trying desperately to not start begging him to touch you. His lips pressed against your heated skin, your eyes closing at the feeling. An embarrassingly needy noice came from you as he kissed up and down your neck, his fingers digging into your waist. This wasn’t happening.

Cassian pushed you backwards until you hit the stone wall of the balcony, his body pressing fully against you. You squirmed under his touch, gasping as you felt his hardness against you. Is this happening? He bit under your ear, a deep groan coming from him. “I have waited too long to do this.” Your mind went blank, your body arching against him. You wrapped your arms loosely around his neck, leaning your head back against the wall behind you.

“Cass…” you breathed out, lost in the feeling of him. He hummed against your skin, pulling away to cup your face and look into your eyes. A jolt went through you at his blown out pupils, the desire so clearly written on his face. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Is this okay?” He asked, tongue dipping out to trace his lips. You almost forgot to answer, too busy thinking of how that tongue would feel against your-calm yourself. You nodded, unable to get a single word out. Cassian chuckled, brining his head down to meet yours. Electricity flowed through you as his mouth connected to yours, signaling that everything was about to change.

Cassian kissed you like it was his sworn duty to worship your lips. The hand on your face slid down to your neck, angling your head up to him. His body pressed tight against you, the stone wall cool against your back. You moaned helplessly as he sucked your bottom lip into his mouth, biting it teasingly. Your need for his touch was growing heavier and heavier, nearly bad enough that you were ready to beg for him. His hand on your waist dipped down, fingers tracing over your bare thigh as he made his way between your legs. You pushed your hips against him, a silent plea for him to touch you. You felt him smile against your lips, fingers ghosting over your soaked underwear. “Fuck, fuck,” he cursed into your mouth, growing harder at how turned on you were. You begrudgingly pulled your lips off his, opening your mouth to beg for him when he dropped to his knees.

Oh, Mother. The sight of Cassian kneeling in front of you, his hands gripping tight to your thighs, was an image you wanted to remember forever. You had a fleeting thought of if you could get Feyre to paint this for you, or if that would be too intimate. You wanted the look on his face as he gazed up at you immortalized, blown up and hung above your bed. All thoughts eddied away as Cassian slid his fingers under the ruined lace covering you, pulling down so hard it ripped off your body. “Remind me to thank Rhys for these.” He traced the thigh-high slits that were common in Night Court fashion, moving the piece of fabric that hung between your legs to the side. You went to shoot back a witty retort about how the High Lord doesn’t pick out your clothes, cut off by Cassian sucking your clit into his mouth. You cried out, head falling back against the stone as your hands went to tangle in his hair. He groaned against you, pleased at your taste and the sounds you were making as he feasted upon you.

His fingers teased your entrance, sliding slowly inside as he continued his attack. He pulled one of your legs up and over his shoulder, allowing a deeper angle to feel you. His name fell from your lips like a sinful prayer. Cassian touched you in a way that no one else ever had. He worked you like it was his greatest honor to do so, and he would do anything to satisfy you. His fingers curled deep inside you, broken cries spilling from your lips. His teeth grazed your clit, tongue circling you in a heated dance. “Oh, Cass, i’m-“ you gasped out, feeling that familiar fire grow inside of you.

“Let go for me, please,” he said against you, keeping his movements steady. The desperation in his voice was your tipping point, the need exuding from him to see you pleasured. You gripped tightly onto the hair you had gathered in your fingers, body arching against his face and hands as your orgasm washed over you. You shook against him, mouth open in a silent scream as he continued pushing you through it, prolonging the pleasure you were feeling. He went until your body went lax, loud cries of his name like music to his ears. He pushed you a little farther, enjoying the way he had to hold your body up. He finally stopped, pulling his fingers out of you and standing back up. Your jaw dropped as he sucked his fingers into his mouth, moaning at the taste of you. He smirked at your blissed-out and shocked expression, leaning down to kiss you again.

“I want to fuck you, right here, right now,” he murmured against your lips, turning you around and pushing you to the balcony railing. He kissed down your neck, hands wrapping tight around your waist as he pushed against you from behind. “I’ve been dreaming of this moment for far too long.” You groaned at his words, leaning your head back against his shoulder as he continued kissing your exposed skin. “I want to hear your screams echoing off the mountains around us.” His fingers dipped under your skirt again, circling your sensitive clit. You whined at his touch, desire already building in you again. “Is that okay with you?”

You pushed down against his teasing fingers, need obliterating any rational thought. “I don’t care where or how you do it, as long as you fuck me now, Cassian.” He laughed against your skin, hand dropping from between your legs. You didn’t have time to complain about the loss of his touch before his cock took over, sliding teasingly against you. Fuck, he’s huge. His tip nudged your entrance, a silent question. You shoved yourself back and down against him, a loud cry ripping from you as he plunged all the way in.

Cassian felt perfect inside of you, pausing to allow you to adjust to the sudden intrusion. Your nails dug into the railing in front of you, body pulsing around him. You pushed against him, begging him to move. He slid almost all the way out before pushing deep again, tears pricking at your eyes from the overwhelming sensation. He started up a rhythm, one hand flat against your stomach as he fucked you. “I can feel myself, fucking into you, right here,” he moaned into your ear, flexing the fingers splayed across you. You cried out his name in response, unable to form a coherent sentence. “You feel better than I ever imagined,” he groaned out, biting hard onto your shoulder as his pleasure grew.

You screamed his name as he began pounding hard into you, the echo of it playing around the mountains just as he wanted. Cassian showed no mercy in fucking you, thrusting in and out so hard you felt like you would be bruised tomorrow. His other hand wrapped around one of yours on the railing, a loving gesture that contrasted the way he was moving inside you. Your breathing grew staggered as you neared another orgasm, Cassians bites on your shoulder encouraging you. A strangled cry was all you could give as that fire-like pleasure surged through you, squeezing tight around him. Cassian came with you a moment later, spilling deep inside you like you had imagined so many times before.

He continued to push into you as you both rode out your joint pleasure, thrusts slowing to prolong the feeling. You wanted to stay here forever, Cassian deep inside of you. He pressed gentle kisses to the bite marks he left on your neck and shoulder, soothing the sting to them. “You were perfect,” he whispered, pulling out of you. You slumped against him, the arm around your waist all that kept you from falling to the ground. You heard him button his pants back up before pulling the fabric of your dress back down around you. You turned towards him, clutching onto him tightly.

“Was it real?” You asked, suddenly nervous in the wake of the moment.

He cocked his head, looking down at you. “Real?”

“Was it just a drunken fling or…is it more?” You clarified, hands nervously playing with the buttons on his shirt.

“Oh,” he said, a smile ghosting across his lips. “What would you rather it be?”

Your fingers stilled against him, eyes looking over his face cautiously. You sucked in a deep breath, deciding it was best to be honest in this moment. “I want it to have been real. I want you to want me the same way i’ve longed for you all these years. I want to be yours, and only yours, for the rest of our days.” The words came out a rushed jumble, and you feared you said too much as Cassian just stared down at you.

His arms wrapped tight around your waist and you were spinning around the balcony before you had time to think, Cassians laughter music to the dance he was leading. “I’ve dreamed of you saying that for so long,” he said as he put you down, pressing his forehead to yours. “It’s always been you.”

You smiled up at him, pulling him down to kiss him for the hundredth time that night. Finally, after years of mutual pining, Cassian was yours.

***

Feyre and Rhys clinked their champagne glasses together, observing the scene on the balcony below them. The mutual profession of love, finally. “Do you think they will be mad when they find out?” Feyre asked nervously, eyes darting between the new couple and her mate. Rhys laughed, tucking her close to his side.

“That we slipped a rather strong aphrodisiac into their drinks? Oh, most definitely.” He smiled down at his friends again. “But something tells me they’ll be over it rather quickly.”

***

I haven’t written any Cassian smut soooooo here we go 🫣. as always let me know your thoughts and feelings <3

#acotar x reader #cassian x reader #acotar x you #acotar x y/n #cassian x y/n #cassian x you #cassian smut #cassian x reader smut #acotar smut #acotar x reader smut #just friends

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thechekhov · 11 months ago

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Dungeon Meshi Quick Reacts: CH42

Who is that. Is that Marcille? It doesn't look like Marcille. Why her ears so small.

why is this alternate-universe man struggling with so many modern day issues, like his parents pestering him to have kids? We came so far... but in the end.... we never left.

DAMN, GET OFF HIS ASS! I know it must be a dream but damn. You don't have to do the poor boy like this! He's doing his best!

We all need friends like this that will just wrestle you into bed.

.......is the idea that you can enter someone's dream as easily as just sleeping on them? Just physical contact? Damn. Free MMO VR experience.

Ah yes. Because really, what ELSE would you use lucid dreaming for, if not this?

Someone who's never read Dungeon Meshi explain what's going on in these panels.

Not gonna lie, I'm a huge sucker for weird liminal spaces like these. I know they're meant to freak people out but they have the opposite effect on me. This is peak mental stimulation.

IT'S A BABY MARCILLE????!?? AOOUUUGUGUHUGHU LOOKIT HER

Me and Laios: ah, yes, Marcille's family is a polycule, confirmed. This is surely the way it's meant to be taken.

oh, that's. hm.

Ahhh, poor kid! She's so terrified, and even though she doesn't recognize Laios, she knows he's a friend. Damn, I really love the fact that, despite often arguing with him, Marcille and Laios are actually genuinely close friends.

WEE WOO WEE WOO THAT'S NOT GOOD.

I just realized her doll looks like Falin!!! Will the wonders never cease!!

Oh! It's the guilt! :D Her real source of fear is the crushing guilt of having resurrected her girlfriend and accidentally siphoning away her humanity!

.........hang on. If it's not monsters OR death that Marcille is scared of.... is it possible that she's scared of... other people dying before she does?

She's an elf, right? Or a half elf, if the people who spoiled that reveal for me have spoiled it correctly. That means she'll probably out-last her friends. Is THAT the fear?

...or did he.

You can do what????? Use ancient magic to reverse the aging of your loved ones?!?!

That eye is the same as that of the elf, huh.

Yeah girl, you show that thing. Bonk it with the wizard's spellbook.

👏let 👏 her 👏 sleep!

Y'all got. CLAMS? In your. PILLWS?

......Y';ALL GOT PILLOWS? IN THE DUNGEON??

... the internal monologue of a cat who will continue to be too lazy to move for the next 15 hours.

OH!!!! HIM!!!!!!

(❁´◡`❁)

Listen. You don't choose your fursona. Your fursona chooses you.

#dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi quick reacts #dungeon meshi liveblog #delicious in dungeon #chekhov reads dungeon meshi

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anyca786 · 1 month ago

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"SAY IT"

Daemon Targaryen x sister/aunt!Targaryen x Rhaenyra Targaryen

WARNINGS: canon typical incest/targcest (brother & sister &niece) poly relationship, family drama.

Series

Rhaenyra wore a beautiful black dress with hints of gold. As for the other Princess, she wore a red and black amour corset with black trousers. Her hair styled into two braids. The shiny dagger nested securely on her hips, she look fierce.

The Throne room was divided into two groups.

On one side, there were the Blacks, consisting of Daemon, Jacaerys, Lucerys, Rhaena, and Joffrey, all dressed in black and hints of red.

In the middle Baela was standing close to her grandmother. They both gave Daenys a kind smile.

The Hightowers on the left wore the color green symbolizing their loyalty towards their mother's house. Aemond couldn't help but admire her beauty, she was radiating in the crowd. He wondered what if would have been like if she was on their side.

The hush whispers ceased when the Hand, Otto Hightowe sat on the Iron Throne and spoke loud and clear, "Though It is the great hope of this court that Lord Corlys Velaryon survives his wounds, we gather here with the grim task of dealing with the succession of Driftmark. On a Hand,I speak with the King's voice on this, and all other matters. The crown will now hear the petitions,' Otto announced.

Aemond almost smiled at Daenys, when they made eye contact. Instead she chose to give her a subtle nod, and Aegon on the other hand, completely ignored her. The sweet Helaena smiled at her aunt, which Daenys returned.

"Ser Vaemond Velaryon of House Velaryon," Otto called.

"My Queen. My Lord Hand," he greeted.

"The History of our noble houses extends beyond the Seven Kingdoms to the days of Old Valyria. For as long as House Targaryen has ruled the skies, House Velaryon has ruled the seas. When the Doom fell on Valyria, our houses became the last of their kind.. Our forebearers came to this new knowledge that they to fail, it would mean the end of their bloodlines and their name." he paused momentarily, "I have spent my entire life on Driftmark defending my brother's seat. I am Lord Corlys's closest kin. His blood. The true unimpeachable blood of House Velaryon runs through my veins"

Daenys glared at Vaemond, "How dare you?"

"As it does in my sons, the offspring of Laenor Velaryon,"Rhaenyra stated, "If you cared so much about the House's blood, Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold to supplant its rightful heir. No, you only speak for yourself and your own ambition." Rhaenyra said.

"You will have a chance to make your petition, Princess Rhaenyra." Alicent interrupted. "Do Ser Vaemond the courtesy of allowing his to be heard,"

Daenys rolled her eyes,

Vaemond smiled and looked at them, specifically at Rhaenyra, "What do you know about Valyrian blood, Princesses? I could cut my veins and show it to you, and you still wouldn't recognize it,'

Daemon tensed and Daenys grabbed and held him in an attempt to hold him in place.

"I can show you mine, surely mine runs thicker than yours" Daenys commented.

Ignoring her true comment, he continued, "This is about the future and survival of my House, not yours," he told her before locking eyes with Lucerys, "My Queen, my Lord Hand. This is a matter of blood, not ambition. I place the continuation of survival of my House and line above all. I humbly put myself before you as my brothers' successor..The Lord of Driftmark. The Lord of the Tides."

"Thank you, Ser Vaemond," Otto spoke once he was finished, "Princess Rhaenyra, you may now speak for your son, Lucerys Velaryon."

Rhaenyra stepped forward, "If I am to grace this farce with some answer. I will start by reminding the court that nearly twenty years ago in this very-'

The doors to the throne room opened loudly banging on the stone walls for everyone to hear. Heads were turned to see King Viserys walking using only his cane to help him move.

"King Viserys of House Targaryen, the First of his Name King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm."

Daenys breath hitched, while Rhaenyra looked shocked. The Greens seemed disappointed and angry.

"I will sit on the throne today," Viserys said once he reached to where Otto Hightower stood.

"Your Grace." Otto Hightower said, making his way to stand beside Alicent.

When Viserys walked forward, he stumbled a bit. Daenys didn't hesitate to move forward to catch him. Daemon had joined helping him up the stairs to the throne.

His crown fell off the top of his head, clattering on the ground before him. Daemon picked it up and returned to help him sit on the chair. As the King sat panting on the throne, Daemon stood before him laying the crown on his head.

Viserys eyes softened at the pair, his brother and sister. His eyes held the words he wanted to say and Daemon understood. He gave his brother a slight squeeze on the hand before making his way back to his spot guiding Daenys to stand between Lucerys and him.

Daenys wrapped an arm around Lucerys's shoulders protectively and the boy didn't hesitate to lean in at her gesture.

Aemond's eyes narrowed at the pair.

"I must admit...my confusion," Viserys breathed, "I do not understand..why petitions are being heard..over a settled succession. The only one present...who might offer keener insight into Lord Corlys' wishes..is the Princess Rhaenys. Viserys said.

With that everyone's attention turned towards Princess Rhaenys.

"Indeed your Grace," Rhaenys said stepping forward to the centre, "It was ever my husband's will that Driftmark pass through Ser Laenor to his trueborn son Lucerys Velaryon. His mind never changed nor did my support of him"

Rhaenyra looked surprised, while Daenys smiled.

"As a matter of fact, Princess Rhaenyra has just informed me of her desire to marry her sons, Jace and Luke to Lord Corlys's granddaughters, Baela and Rhaena" she continued, "a proposal to which I heartily agree,".

The children exchanged happy looks.

"Well." Viserys continued, nodding in agreement. "The matter is settled, again...I cannot think of a better pairing to one day rule Driftmark throne...So I hereby affirm Prince Lucerys of House Velaryon...as Heir to Driftmark, the Driftwood Throne, and the next Lord of the Tides."

Before anyone could clap or celebrate Vaemond scoffed, "You break law and centuries of tradition to install your daughter as heir. Yet you dare tell me who deserves to inherit Velaryon....I will not allow it."

"Allow it?" Viserys asked breathlessly, "Do not forget yourself, Vaemond."

Vaemond stood seething at Lucerys making Daenys shield him and glare back at Vaemond menacingly, "That is no true Velaryon, and certainly no nephew of mine!"

"Now, hold your tongue," Daenys snapped quite fed up.

"Lucerys is my trueborn grandson," Viserys stated, "And you ...are no more than the second son of Driftmark."

"You may run your house as you see fit,"' Vaemond snarled shaking his head. "But you will not decide the future of mine. My house survived the Doom and a thousand tribulations beside." He turned directly towards the blacks, "And Gods be damned..I will not see it ended on the account of this-"

"I fucking dare you say it," Daenys stepped forward.

"Princess Daenys, mind your language in the court," Alicent tried to school her.

"My wife can speak however she sees to fit," Daemon scoffed.

"I will not see my house ended on the account of this-"

"Say it" Daemon challenged him.

Vaemond stopped to look at him and back at Viserys, "Her children... are BASTARDS!" he yelled, "And she is a whore marrying another whore"

Everyone in the room gasped. Rhaenyra was fuming with anger and Daenys looked ready to draw blood.

"I..will have your tongue for that!" Viserys yelled weakly, standing from his throne to unsheath his blade.

But in a spilt second, Daemon sliced Vaemond's head from his body, "He can keep his tongue," Daemon said rather calmly.

Daenys had a proud look on her face.

"Disarm him," Otto shouts to the guards in fear.

"No need," Daemon simply said, cleaning his sword and took his place back, beside Daenys.

"Let this be a warning to anyone who dares to question Princess Rhaenyra's claim," Daenys announced to the court.

She looked at Otto coldly, and for the first time in this long, he felt something- Fear.

Aemond stared at Daenys and Daemon in awe, while Aegon almost gagged at the scene. Sweet Helaena, covered her ears shielding away from the scene.

Suddenly Viserys started to moan in pain.

"Call the maesters!" Alicent voiced, walking up to him to help him.

"Father?" Rhaenyra asked worriedly, Daenys brows frowned, "Viserys?" Her voice surprisingly low.

"Please, my love. You must take something for the pain," Alicent coaxed.

"I will not cloud my mind," he protested, "I must put things right,"

The guards quickly helped Viserys to his chambers leaving the remaining confused.

The hearing had come to an end.

🥀

The entire room was candlelit beautifully.

The three dragons looked powerful and united wearing shades of black and red of the House Targaryen.

"Do we have to attend this?" Lucerys complained.

The greens were already present. Alicent, Otto, Aegon, Helaena, and Aemond sat at the opposite side of the table while the other side was filled with empty seats.

Aemond eyes soften seeing his aunt Daenys.

Daenys didn't say anything but nodded in Aemond's and Helaena's direction before looking at Alicent " Alicent," she greeted simply out of politeness and before Alicent could say anything the Targaryen had looked at Helaena and smiled, "Helaena - it's lovely to see you, my dear," Daenys said, her crystal purple eyes holding a fondness for the shy Princess.

She then turns to Aemond, "Aemond," she acknowledged him with smile which he returned. When Daenys was about to sit near Aemond-

"My love, come this way" Rhaenyra asked her to sit with Daemon and her.

Everyone sat down in silence while the children were talking amongst one another. Helena joined in with the chatter all except Aegon who was already drinking and Aemond refusing to associate with the Velaryon boys.

Daemon occasionally kissed Daenys hands, while having small talks with his other wife.

The doors slowly opened to reveal Viserys being carried in on his chair. Everyone stood up from their seats.

"How good it is...to see you all tonight, together," Viserys said wistfully. He looked at his daughter, Rhaenyra and then towards his siblings.

The two women shared a soft smile and it was clear that the favoritism was there. Alicent's children have never come close to the love he shared toward his daughter and sister.

"Prayers before we begin?" Alicent asked, leaning towards Viserys a bit to get his attention.

"Yes," Viserys agreed.

"May the Mother smile down on this gathering with love. May the Smith mend the bonds that have been broken for far too long," Alicent clasped her hands together tightly, "And to Vaemond Velaryon, may the gods give him rest"

Daemon and Daenys wore brief smirks on their faces at the thought of Vaemond.

They all continued their small talks, Aemond's eyes refusing to leave Daenys, which did not go unnoticed by Daemon.

Viserys stood, "It both gladdens my heart, and fills me with sorrow...to see these faces around the table. The faces most dear to me in all the world...yet grown so distant from each other in the years past," Viserys said, then proceeded by taking off his golden mask for the first time, allowing to see how ill and sickly he had become, "My own face...is no longer a handsome one..if indeed it ever was." he said, looking at each person in the room,Daenys looked at him without tearing her eyes away, she didn't seem fazed by his appearance but more by the fact that he was dying slowly.

"Tonight... wish for you to see me...as I am. Not just as a King, but your father..your brother..your husband..and your grandsire who may not it seems... walk for much longer among you," A statement so true.

"Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts. The crown cannot stand strong if the House of the Dragon remains divided. Set aside your grievances if not for the sake of the crown, then for the sake of this old man who loves you all so dearly." Viserys said, before sitting back down.

Rhaenyra got up next, moved by her father's words and raised her glass, "I wish to raise my cup, to Her Grace, the Queen." she said looking at Alicent, who was finishing helping Viserys with putting his mask back on, "I love my father, but I must admit that no one has stood..more loyally by his side than his good wife. She has tended to him..with unfailing devotion, love, and honor. And for that, she has my gratitude. And my apology."

"Your graciousness moves me deeply, Princess," Alicent responded to Rhaenyra. "We are all mothers...and we love our children. We have more in common than we sometimes allow," she said before rising from her seat. "I raise my cup to you and your House. You will make a fine Queen."

Everyone raised their glasses and had the wine. Aegon gulped the wine in one go, and stood up from his seat, walking over to Baela.

He offered her wine and whispered something that made Jacaerys angrily stand up, Aemond got up in defence as well.

Daenys gave Jacaerys a look, telling him to not engage.

"To Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond. We have not seen each other in years, but we have fond memories of our shared youth. And as men, I hope we may yet be friends and allies. To you and your families good health, dear uncles." Jacaerys said with a raised glass.

"To you as well' Aegon said almost defeated which earned a smirk from Rhaena and Lucerys.

"Well done my boy," Viserys praised, showering his grandson with affection.

"I would like to toast to Baela and Rhaena," Helaena said as she got up. "They'll be married soon, it isn't so bad, mostly he just ignores you...except sometimes when he's drunk."

Daemon chuckled at this, and so did Otto who said," Good" to his granddaughter.

"Let us have some music," Viserys said, and the small band played a folk tune.

Jacaerys offered to dance with Helaena which made Daenys smile delightedly. She was happy seeing Helaena smile, she never does whenever she was around Aegon, it seemed.

Daenys felt a tap on the shoulder to see Aemond holding out his hand to her,"Would you be kind to grant me a dance, dear Aunt?"

"I've only just started eating Aemond," Daenys replied, but the pleading look in his eyes made her falter. Suddenly she was brought back to the better days when he was just a child.

Daemon looked ready to speak but it was Rhaenyra's hand that told him to stand down.

That didn't stop Rhaenyra's suspicion but gave a nod of approval. She wished to have no fights during this dinner.

Daenys stood up and placed her hand on Aemond's, letting him guide her to the floor where Jacaerys and Helaena were dancing.

Rhaenyra and Alicent returned to the conversation like old times. Daemon would merely listen and make small talk with his brother while keeping a close eye on Daenys.

"It's been years since we've talked," Aemond said, leading his aunt to the floor. Daenys gave him a look of regret and shrugged, "A part of me is to blame I admit." she acknowledged.

"I missed you," Aemond admitted this time. "It's been terrible all alone with no one that understands me,"

Daenys was out of words, all she could say was, "I'm sorry, Aemond. Perhaps if things would have been different,"

Aemond remembers the first and the last time they had fun together. He remembered riding their dragons till the sunset. He remembered how he poured his feelings out to Daenys and how she told him, "I'll always be there for you". He felt loved and wanted that day.

"Excuse me," Daenys goes back to her seat and so did Aemond with a heavy heart still longing for his aunt. Eventually laughter feels the room. Daenys starts digging into her food again, while Rhaenyra made her laugh at something.

But then there was a loud bang at the table which made Daenys instinctively grab Daemon's hand.

She looked up to see Aemond had punched the table with all his strength, causing the plates and almost everyone's cups to knock over.

"Final tribute," Aemond said and Daenys's stomach dropped. "To the health of my nephews: Jace, Luke, and Joffrey. Each of them is handsome, wise,...strong."

"Aemond," Alicent attempts to stop him.

"Come, let us drain our cups to these three Strong boys," he continued, emphasizing the word "Strong"

Aemond toasts, and Jacaerys steps toward him,"Dare you to say it again," Jacaerys dared him.

Aemond was amused to think Jace could beat him.

"Why? 'Twas only a compliment," Aemond says, and both boys make their way toward each other.

Jacaerys did not hesitate to punch Aemond however it didn't phase him. Daenys attention pulled away from him when she saw Luke stand up from the chair, Aegon did the same and slammed Luke into the table and held his head and neck down.

"Aemond! Aegon!" She moved towards Aegon and Lucerys, "Get your hands off them," she commanded.

Aegon tried to hit Daenys in response, but Daemon warned him, "Get the fuck away from my wife,"

Alicent grabbed Aemond's arm, "Why would you say such a thing before these people?" her voice low but admonished.

"I was merely expressing how proud I am of my family, mother. Though it seems my nephews aren't quite proud of theirs," Aemond provoked making Jacaerys break loose and charged at him again.

Daemon placed himself in the middle of the chaos. His eyes are now cast at Aemond wearing an amused look and let out a contented sigh while Aemond merely glared at him.

By now Rhaenyra ordered the four of the eldest children, "Go to your quarters, all of you". Daenys made her way over to Rhaenyra to see if she was alright.

Daenys gave Aemond disappointed look. Aemond let out a long exhale and walked past Daemon.

Daemon watched Aemond leave in scrutiny.

Meanwhile, the three women shared a conversation, "It's best, I think, if we go back to Dragonstone," Rhaenyra stated, it was clear that after what happened it was best to leave.

"Both of you only just arrived." Alicent's eyes flashed in despair. She takes their hands in hers. She missed Rhaenyra and Daenys.

"We will see the children home and we'll return on Dragonback" Daenys said.

The Queen tearfully smiled, holding their hands tightly. "The King and I would both like that."

The Queen, Heir, and Princess shared a smile for once feeling like they are finally getting somewhere. Except it was only the calm before the storm.

A/N: We are heading towards the end of Season 1😭

#tumblr #daemon targaryen #house of the dragon #daemon targaryen x reader #hotd daemon #hotd #daemon targeryan #rhaenyra targaryen #house targaryen #x reader #rhaenyra targeryan

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lillian-gallows · 3 months ago

Text

Kinktober Day 2: Facesitting with Robin Buckley.

Pairing: Robin Buckley X Fem!Reader Word Count: 1538 Warnings: Cunninglingus (F receiving Oral sex), Lil bit of praise, Vaginal Fingering, Dominant!Reader, Reader is SO in love with her awkward GF, This is my first time writing WLW so forgive me if it's a little bad.

Kinktober 2024 Master(sub)list.

Minors DNI

"Robbie, if I wasn't sure, I wouldn't have suggested it." You'd said for the third time in the last 20 minutes.

The brunette in front of you stared back with wide eyes, mouth working and words coming out, but they were all nonsense ramblings brought on by your girlfriends anxiety.

See, you'd asked her to sit on your face.

And she was very worried about the same thing everyone worries about when they're faced with that suggestion.

"But what if I hurt you? I mean, we both know I don't exactly have the best coordination with both feet planted firmly on the floor. And!" She pointed at you as if she had thought of a new trump card. "Let's not forget the time I managed to fall off a chair I was sitting in, not even weirdly, like I was sitting like a normal person-" she continued on but all you could do was listen and watch fondly.

Her face was warm as you took her cheeks in your hands, silencing her ramblings with a kiss. "Robin. I know what I'm asking for, and I know what I'm doing. We don't have to if it makes you uncomfortable, but I need you to know that you can trust me with this." You whispered, lips brushing hers as she gazed at you with half lidden eyes.

She let out a slow breath as she stared back into your eyes, then she sighed again with more finality. "It does sound pretty hot..." She admitted, breaking eye contact.

You couldn't keep the teasing smugness from your face as you took her chin in hand and made her look at you again. "Yeah? Wanna say that with a little more conviction?" You teased quietly, earning a halfhearted glare.

It hadn't been your plan to do it now, but shit, who were you to say no when she's looking at you like that...?

Pretty blue eyes darkened to an almost storm cloud color, lips parted as quick little breaths escape, clearly craving another kiss from the way her gaze keeps flickering down to your lips.

At some point her hands had found your sides, her fingers were curled in the fabric of your shirt like a lifeline, and the slightest of tugs was all you needed to lean in and claim her lips once more.

It never ceases to amaze you just how soft she is, and not just her lips, her skin, her body, her hair. For as tough as she is with everything she's been through, she's still so soft and sweet in your hands.

She leaned into your hold, pressing her front to yours, which was made slightly awkward by her being a little taller than you, but your hold on her chin kept her bent to your level and under your thrall, not that that was particularly hard.

Robin is always putty in your hands.

"C'mere, pretty girl..." You murmured against her lips before pulling her back in, pressing soft lips to soft lips as hands roamed and caressed.

You didn't wait long to escalate things, slipping your tongue past the threshold of her mouth to tangle with hers, earning you a quiet moan as her fingers tightened their hold on your shirt.

A sweet little sound echoed in the space between you when you parted for air at last, and it was like a spark to gasoline in your belly.

You took her wrist in hand and all but dragged her to your bedroom, closing and locking the door behind you before sitting on the bed, pulling her onto your lap.

She wasted no time threading her fingers into your hair, cradling where your head met your neck gently. Your hands were a bit less gentle as they gripped her hips, grinding the apex of her thighs against your jean clad lap.

Your lips met and parted over and over as gasps and moans and the movement of your bodies pulled your mouths apart only to bring them back together again, tongues and teeth tried to tangle and nip in vain, but neither of you cared.

Soon enough even this wasn't enough for the two of you and griping fingers slipped under shirts to cast them away, followed very shortly by pants, which resulted in a rather entertaining show for Robin as she watched you try to shimmy out of them without her moving, because there was no way in hell were you going to let her get up.

You were successful, but it resulted in a break to laugh at yourselves, the air feeling just a little bit lighter, though no less charged.

Once your wits returned to you, you took in the woman before you. Your beautiful girlfriend, in her mismatched underwear, cream bra and pink panties. The bra is your favorite, it has a little bow right between the cups and the fabric is soft like her skin. And the panties have a tiny lacy border around the top a shade darker and the way it contrasts with her completion makes your heart race.

And that was nothing compared to her face as she looks down at you, flushed pink from cheeks to chest, hair mussed and wild, from what you're not sure as you haven't touched her hair yet. Her eyes are shadowed and hot, like the last coals under all the ash, waiting patiently to be stoked.

Taking her hips in hand you pulled her back into you as you scooted up the bed. It forced her to shuffle a bit, but she wasn't complaining, not when you were laying back and tugging her up to straddle your chest.

"You doing okay, love?" You asked softly, watching her face for any hesitation, fully prepared to stop and shelf this idea.

None came, instead she took a deep breath. "I'm good, I'm great...Go slow?" Your chest ached with how much you love this girl.

"Of course, let me know if you want to stop." You ordered softly, thumb caressing the skin right at the edge of her panties.

"I will...Now will you please touch me." She begged, only half joking.

"What do you mean? I am touching you." You answered before laying a smack to her ass. "Get up here."

And like that she was shuffling the rest of the way up, till a knee rested on either side of your head with care, a pair of sodden panties inches from your face, so close you could smell her, and it was like ambrosia, one could get drunk on Robin alone.

With your arms wrapped around behind her you pulled her in, pressing your mouth to the wet cotton, right where you knew her poor neglected clit was hiding, and gave it a suck.

Robin's body jolted and her back arched a little, so you did it again and she gave a repeat.

Deciding the third time was the charm, you did it again and held the suction for a moment, or three, longer. Watching as she whined and wiggled wanting more but unable to move in your iron grip.

Deciding to have mercy on your pretty girl you tugged her panties to the side and ran your tongue from bottom to top, capping it off with a suck directly on her clit. She cried out something that you're sure was meant to be your name, but with the way her gasp cut it off it was hard to tell.

Once she seemed used to being above you, you decided to give her one final push, and tugged her down to rest fully on your face. Your nose was smushed against her mons and caught her clit every so often as your mouth devoured her pussy, wet as much from you as from her at this point.

She didn't resist, already so overwhelmed by pleasure that she was putty in your hands.

It didn't take long to pull her first orgasm from her, pent up as she tends to be.

Her skin was tacky with sweat as she quivered and whined, thighs clenching your head as she gripped your hair with one hand and held herself steady against the wall with the other.

Now, normally you would give her a break between rounds, but you weren't done with her just yet.

So, when she went to move you held her in place, returning to the same rhythm you'd had a moment ago.

Unlike a moment ago, however, you pressed two fingers into her dripping cunt, feeling around for all of a second before finding that wonderful spot, and bullying it till she shook.

Robin's initial sound of confusion turned into one of shock, then finally one of pleasure as she fell into your touch once more, letting you wring another orgasm from her.

And it was spectacular.

Her back arched as her eyes rolled, her voice went from loud to silent as she struggled to draw breath, her hands gripped your hair so tight your scalp burned a little. But the best part, was the way she seemed to freeze for just a second before drenching your face.

You held her steady above you as she tried to catch her breath.

"That's my girl..."

#kinktober #kinktober 2024 #robin buckley #stranger things fanart #robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley x reader

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chaostheoryy · 3 months ago

Text

Touch Me [Walter X GN!Reader]

Summary: You and Walter are currently the only two people awake on the colony ship headed for the outskirts of the galaxy. And while most people would find the company of a synthetic to be unsettling, you have come to realize you much prefer his presence over that of other humans. And perhaps you enjoy his company even more than you originally thought.

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Making out, implied sexual thoughts

Reader: Gender Neutral

Word Count: 3.1K

Notes: I recently rewatched the entire Alien franchise and rediscovered my love for Walter. Because of course my dumbass feels connected to an autistic-coded character...There really isn't much plot here, just self-indulgence via smooching a big, wholesome android. And, as always, no beta. I die a warrior's death.

Living with a synthetic is easy. Like a faithful company android should, Walter has always done exactly what he’s supposed to when he’s supposed to. He never interrupts your work unless absolutely necessary and he doesn’t dare disturb your sleep unless following explicit instructions from you or MUTHUR to wake you in time to complete your tasks.

In addition to being an efficient and reliable worker, Walter has also proven himself to be a surprisingly pleasant companion. Conversation, it seems, comes naturally for him and his seemingly endless internal database of poetry and literature means he can recite any one of your favorite stories upon request. Though it’s strange to admit, there’s a pleasantness to his voice that makes every encounter with him comforting.

In fact, the more time you’ve spent together, the more you’ve come to realize just how much you truly find pleasant about him. The mesmerizing tint of his electric blue eyes. The imperfection of his crooked smile when you tell him your worst jokes. The gentleness of his touch despite the inhuman strength of his body. You know these are all things that were programmed into him by some random company engineer years ago, but you can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to him than a bunch of 0’s and 1’s. He’s not just a robot designed to serve man, he’s…Walter.

The stronger your connection feels over these first few weeks of travel, the bolder you get when it comes to exploring your affection for him. It starts with accidental brushes of the hand against his arm or a gentle press of your palm between his shoulder blades when you squeeze behind him in a tight corridor. Fleeting touches that can easily be written off as necessary interactions given the nature of your environment. He, of course, doesn’t seem to mind at all. Every time it happens, he responds to your apology or “excuse me” with a courteous little grin and a brief utterance of reassurance.

On a particularly bad day, when nothing seems to go right and the loneliness of space grips at your heart, you ask for his comfort and he obliges. His hand rests on your shoulder until it simply isn’t enough and you ask him to hold you. No request is too much for Walter, so sure enough you find yourself wrapped in his arms with your head resting on his chest. Even despite his lack of fleshy internal organs, you find he’s just as warm as any human would be. And when he murmurs soothing words in your ear, you realize that no human could possibly comfort you the way he can.

“Walter?”

“Yes?"

“Hugging you like this,” you murmur quietly into his charcoal sweatshirt, “Does it feel good for you?”

“If you’re inquiring as to whether or not I enjoy embracing you, yes. I find it quite satisfactory.”

“Good.”

“Is this embrace satisfying for you?”

“Very."

“I’m glad.”

To your surprise, the hand that had come to rest in the center of your back begins to move in slow circles. When you shift beneath his touch, the movement ceases.

“Apologies,” he says as he abruptly steps away. The loss of contact leaves your body yearning for the comfort.

“No need to apologize, Walter. It’s fine, really. I…” You hesitate for a moment. “It felt nice.”

You stare each other down, both of you searching for answers to questions neither of you have asked. You know it’s probably just your mind playing tricks on you, but it seems as though he looks nervous. Then again, hard not to notice an aura of uncertainty coming from a presence that is usually nothing but certain.

“Have you ever touched someone like that before now?” You ask.

“No. I’m afraid it was never the company’s intention for synthetics such as myself to engage in intimate contact.”

You try to stow away some of the sheer sadness you feel knowing what he’s said is undoubtedly true. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Because that doesn’t seem fair. Being surrounded by people your whole life and knowing that none of them will ever hold you. Knowing that the people who created you never even wanted you to be held.”

“Fair or not, it is simply a part of my programming.”

You frown. It frustrates you to no end. No matter how many times he or the little voice in the back of your head tells you that he is simply an android following his programming, you want to argue that there’s more to it than that. That he genuinely exists and deserves to live.

“Aren’t you curious?”

“In regard to what exactly?”

“Touch. Don’t you ever wonder what it’d be like to truly be touched? To be held and caressed and cared for by someone else?”

“It is something I have pondered over from time to time, sure.”

Your heart is racing in your chest as you consider your words. It’s crazy, you know it is, but you can’t help yourself. “Would you like me to touch you?”

Walter’s head tilts to the left ever so slightly, much like a dog who’s heard his owner utter the name of his favorite toy in casual conversation. Those dazzling blue eyes blink a couple of times as he considers your question.

“Yes, I believe I would.”

An inaudible sigh of relief slips from your throat. You nod, more to yourself than to Walter, and step forward to close the distance between you. He doesn’t move in the slightest, just stands there and watches your every move with the scrutiny of a scientist at work.

You start by taking his right hand. Pulling it from his side, you raise it up into the space between your bodies. Your right thumb traces over his knuckles while your left hand gently pushes the sleeve of his sweatshirt up toward his elbow. Just like any human you’ve ever met, there are delicate hairs all along his forearm that jump back into place as the fabric of his sleeve slides past.

After watching those little hairs shift around exploratory strokes of your hand along the backside of his arm, you turn it over and trace the now exposed lines of his palm. You feel like those storied fortune tellers of old Earth who search for hidden meanings in the imperfections of a person’s skin. But instead of seeking out some clue to the distant future, it’s as if you’re seeking the very essence of humanity in Walter’s palm.

“You have a soft touch,” he notes as you ghost your fingertips over the almost velvety surface of his inner wrist.

Your eyes flick up to his face to find him still watching you with a nearly unreadable expression. “Does that bother you?”

“Not at all.”

Reassured by his response, you can’t help the tiny grin that pulls at the corner of your mouth. And as unbelievable as it sounds, Walter’s gaze seems soften at the sight of your smile.

Suddenly feeling as if you’ve been caught witnessing something you were never supposed to see, you hastily draw your focus away from his face and back down to the hand in your grasp. Your fingers trace the lines on his palm a few more times before you curl his fingers inward one by one. When every single digit has been bent into the familiar shape of a fist, you rotate his arm once again and bend his wrist back. Then, with painstaking patience that could drive a man insane, you slowly unravel his fingers with your own until your palms are flush against one another.

“Like Dürer’s Praying Hands.”

Sparing a glance upward once again, you see him gazing at your pressed hands with a nearly awestruck look in his eyes. The way he appears mesmerized by the very sight of this contact, you’d think he’s staring at the aforementioned German artwork itself.

You elect not to say anything, choosing instead to spread his fingers apart with your own. Once they’re fully splayed out, you slip your fingers in between those outstretched digits and tenderly grasp his hand. For the briefest moment, his fingers remain fully erect as if every joint in his hand is locked in place. But, like the sun setting upon its earthly horizon, they soon slowly fold downward until your hands are delicately intertwined.

There’s a tangible silence in the room as you both gaze upon your interlocked hands. The only sounds you can make out around you are the distant beeps of some far off console and the soft exhale of your own breath. And when Walter’s eyes shift from your hands to your face, that breath only grows heavier. He looks curious, anticipatory.

“I think I’m beginning to understand why humans hold hands as a gesture of affection.”

Your brow raises instinctively. “You like it?”

“It’s pleasant.”

“Would you be willing to let me touch your face?”

He blinks, seemingly processing the inquiry. Then he replies, “Of course.”

Using your free hand, you reach up and gently cup your palm along his jaw. As usual, he doesn’t even flinch at the new touch. He just keeps his eyes locked on you while you explore the new frontier that is his visage.

At first, you examine his face like a parent searching their child for minor cuts and bruises after an afternoon of rough housing in the backyard. It’s gentle, yet full of meticulous observation. Intimate in a way only familial touch can be.

But after a while, you become familiar with the feeling of his skin and allow yourself to truly caress the face before you. Fingertips press into the most delicate patches of skin at the back of the jaw. Your thumb tenderly rubs his cheekbone as the butt of your palm teeters at the edge of his mouth. It’s not your intention to feel his lips just yet but it can’t be helped when your skin brushes past them. And just like a human’s lips would be, they are tantalizingly supple against your skin.

Goosebumps crawl up your forearm when you feel his breath tickle the inside of your wrist. Witnessing him breathe is one of those things that never ceases to fascinate you or quell your incessant desire to prove Walter is more than just some carbon copy synthetic. What need would an artificial person have to breathe if they were simply meant to be servants for mankind? Why make them so incredibly real if they aren’t supposed to live a real life? Why strive to recreate the inherently flawed design of the human body if they aren’t meant to be human?

“Is everything alright?”

Walter’s voice draws you out of your thoughts so violently that he may as well have shoved you out of the airlock. You blink yourself back to consciousness and are startled to find your thumb resting at the edge of his top lip, your hand still cupped along the sharp line of his jaw. His breath continues to tickle your wrist with every exhale.

“Y-yeah,” you stammer as you reposition your hand away from his mouth, “Everything’s fine.”

“You’re displaying early symptoms of common influenza,” he counters matter-of-factly, eyes piercing right through the shield of your lie. “Your heart rate is elevated and your body temperature has increased by half a degree.”

Your body temperature may have only risen by a fraction of a degree but it may as well be several dozen considering the sheer heat scalding your cheeks. The thudding of your heartbeat has become incessantly loud and your breath nearly gets trapped in your throat.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt as you pull yourself alway from him.

His brow immediately furrows with confusion. And if you dared to study his expression any longer, you may find the look on his face hints at disappointment.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand why you’re apologizing. You’ve done nothing wrong. If you are unwell, I would be happy to tend to you in the medical bay.”

“No!” The urgency in your voice catches you off guard. You swallow the lump in your throat, hoping it will take some of the embarrassment down with it. “Thank you. But, I’m not sick, Walter, I promise. I’m just…Nervous.”

His head tilts again. If it weren’t for the fact that you’re actively staving off immense shame for your handling of the whole situation, you might actually be able to acknowledge just how endearing you find that little tick of his.

“May I ask why you are nervous?”

A breathy chuckle escapes the confines of your throat. A nervous laugh that you had no intention of letting out. Walter appears even more puzzled by the reaction.

“I’m nervous because I’m touching you,” you admit, “Because touching you is something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time now. And because now that I’ve done so, I want to keep doing it.”

“Then why did you stop?"

It’s a question you weren’t expecting. But, of course Walter would be the one to bypass formalities and outright ask the hard questions.

“Because I feel guilty.”

“Guilt would imply that you’ve committed an offense or violation.”

“Running my hands over your body and caressing your face like you’re my lover sure as hell feels like a violation,” you argue.

Despite your tone growing erratic, he remains as stoic as ever. “I guarantee you, it isn’t. You asked for permission and I granted it.”

To your utter surprise, he reaches out and gently grabs you by the wrist. Despite your astonishment at his decision to reinitiate the contact, you don’t argue or pull away when he guides your hand back up to his face. Deep down you know this is the outcome you truly want, even if it’s one you never imagined you could have.

“Feel no guilt,” he says as your hand comes to its resting place along his jaw, “I want you to touch me.”

Your heart skips a beat at those words. It’s a statement that makes your mind race faster than any engine in the universe. Sexual innuendos and Freudian subconscious aside, the significance of his declaration isn’t lost on you. He isn’t just standing there, letting you explore his visage like some statue being admired by museum patrons. He’s now an active participant driven by his own desire to be caressed. To be caressed by you.

The mere notion of him wanting this is enough to conquer most of your hesitancy. Swallowing whatever fear remains, you bring your other hand up so that you’re cupping his face between them both. Your thumbs stroke at his cheekbones.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” His voice is soft, restrained. He knows it’s dangerous to spook an already anxious animal.

You dwell on his words for a moment. His eyes, sharp and disarming as always, seem to peer right through your orbital cavity and into your brain itself. If he looks hard enough, he may very well discover the thoughts that are tucked away inside your mind without you even needing to put them into words.

Before you can convince yourself not to, you say, “You’re beautiful.”

He blinks. It’s clear he wasn’t expecting that.

“The color of your eyes. The shape of your lips. The strength of your jaw.” You all but sigh as you trace the line of his jawbone with your middle finger. “I admire everything about you.”

“And what about the fact that I’m not actually human? Do you find that unsettling?”

You shake your head. “No.”

“Why is that?”

You nearly scoff at the question. “Because you could introduce me to a hundred strangers on Earth and I can almost guarantee you that you’re more human than most of them. You have shown me more kindness and empathy than half the people I’ve met in my lifetime.” You slide one hand down to his chest, splaying your fingers out over the spot where his heart should sit. “It doesn’t matter what parts you have or what fluid flows through your veins. I still care for you, Walter.”

In a way, you feel exposed. You never fully considered just how deeply you feel for him. Though, the more you think about it, the more you realize that it shouldn’t be much of a shock at all.

“I would like to kiss you.”

Now there’s a shocking statement.

“What?” You stare at him in awe, unsure that you heard him correctly.

“I said that I would like to kiss you,” he states, “If you find such contact to be agreeable, of course.”

Words are unattainable for you in that moment so you settle for a nod.

He leans in and kisses you softly. He’s so careful, so unbearably gentle that it feels like his lips simply ghost over yours. It isn’t unpleasant, of course. It’s simply too delicate. The whole thing is over before your brain can even process what’s happening. It leaves you yearning for more.

When he pulls back to look at you, he can see the dissatisfaction painted on your face. “Did I do it incorrectly?”

“It wasn’t…wrong. It was just very quick. And much softer than I was expecting.”

“I see.” He thinks for a moment before adding, “Would you like to do it again your way?”

“You want me to kiss you?”

“Yes.”

His eyes instinctively lock on your mouth to watch as your tongue darts out to wet your bottom lip. “Okay.”

You reposition your right hand from his chest to the side of his neck and pull him back toward you. When you kiss him, you do so with passion. Your lips find his like a drowning man resurfacing for air after being jostled by the sea. Not violent, but desperate, as if Walter’s kiss could save your life in the cold vacuum of space.

He may not know what he’s doing, but what he’s doing is right. When your tongue presses against his lip, he opens his mouth to welcome it. When you tilt your head to deepen the kiss, he shifts just enough to make it deeper. When your nails dig into his skin to drag him closer, his hands find shelter upon your waist to steady himself. He may be a synthetic by design, but it’s clear from the way he kisses that he is human by nature.

You’re nearly gasping by the time you break the kiss. The breathless wonder of a good kiss is a feeling you have sorely missed and, judging by the blissful look in Walter’s eyes, it seems he’s just experienced something similar for the very first time.

“I have to admit, I prefer your method,” he muses as a tiny grin pricks at the corner of his mouth.

You can’t help but return that grin with a big smile of your own. Your thumb grazes across his bottom lip. “Well, good news: you and I have a lot of time to explore more methods, if you want.”

“I fear there isn’t anything you could offer that I wouldn’t want now.”

#This went from a quick blurb to a full-on one-shot so fucking fast #Can you tell I'm a touch starved man who wants to love this touch starved robo-babe?#Need more Walter content ASAP #Walter One X Reader #Walter One X GN!Reader #Reader Insert #Alien Covenant #Alien Covenant Reader Insert #Walter One #Michael Fassbender X Reader

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kingkatsuki · 10 months ago

Text

— need

It took me way too long to write something for this man, but he has me completely deranged.

You manage to get hit by a Vandals lust jinki, but luckily for you Tamzy is there to help you out.

I was originally keeping this idea for Bakugou but somehow Tamzy just fit better.

Pairings: Tamzy Caines x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, non-con/dub-con, sex pollen, dirty talk, fingering, Tamzy ties you up, choking, Tamzy cums untouched.

Word Count: 2.2k.

“Please, help me Tamzy.” Your voice is choked and desperate as you look up at him with wide eyes. Your hand trapped between your thighs as you grind on your palm beneath your skirt.

Tamzy’s panicking now, wide eyes look back towards the door as he keeps his mask firmly over his face to protect from the pink toxins that now float through the air. The Vandal and their jinki move fast enough to escape, but it wasn’t fast enough to protect you from the after effects.

“Where’s your mask?” Tamzy pushes, rushing over to you as you practically hump your hand. Nose scrunched in irritation as it does little to satiate the throb between your thighs.

“It’s not enough.” You whine pitifully, ignoring his question as Tamzy stops in front of you. Chancing pulling off his mask when the rest of the air dissipates as he cups your cheek in a palm. You’re burning up—

“You gotta help me, Tamzy.” You push, and your smaller hand reaches up to encircle his wrist, tugging his hand down to your chest to press his palm against your breast.

It’s wrong. He should wait for back up, for the professionals to get here. Enjin would know exactly what to do in this situation, what needs to happen to fix whatever this is. He’s heard of these kinds of aphrodisiac jinki before, listened to Delmon talk about Vandals who ransacked his farm in search of these plants that held amatory properties that held a high price on the black market.

But all of his training couldn’t have prepared him for the unadulterated sight in front of him, and the desperate way you tried to grind your hips against his thigh as Tamzy tried to keep you pinned against the wall. Worried what you might do if you managed to flee the scene to chase your release, or what real creeps that roamed the Abyss could find you at this hour and do god knows what to you. Never mind the Vandal that did this to you in the first place—

It was lucky he’d been the one to find you.

“Tamzy,” There you went saying his name like that again. The desperate, pathetic whine to your tone had him scrunching his nose in irritation as he secretly committed the noise to memory. Something that would fuel his lonely nights as he fists his cock to the thought of you like this for him, “Please, I need you.”

Fuck.

Your reflexes were quick, but he was quicker. Using Tokushin to wind ropes of yarn around your middle to try and keep you subdued, much to your dismay.

“S’not fair,” You sniffle. Your bottom lip juts out and it takes every fiber of his being not to lean forward and kiss you, “You’re always so mean to me, Tamzy.”

God, you had no clue what you were doing to him right now— you couldn’t. Not with the lust jinki clouding your mind and your senses as you rubbed your thighs together to try and alleviate the tension.

He pressed down on his collar to try and contact Enjin again, opening the connection to try and find help. The signal inside the salt cave was almost non-existent, as he tried to decipher Enjin’s voice on the other end. Hoping that by shouting a rough location over the radio waves that he’d be able to find you both on the lower floor.

“It’s okay,” Tamzy murmured, “You’re gonna be okay.”

Tamzy knew these types of jinki weren’t simple to disband. The kind of power that could invade a persons psyche and consume them from the inside out— ceasing their existence if the desire wasn’t satisfied.

But he shouldn’t be the one to help, especially when he already harboured strong feelings for you— it wouldn’t be right. Tamzy couldn’t take advantage of you, especially in such a compromised state. He’d wait for back up to arrive and Enjin would know exactly what to do.

“The others will be here soon,” He spoke calmly, contrasting the way his cock pulsed between his thighs, “They’ll help you.”

“No, no—” You thrashed against his jinki, the binds tightening as they dug into your supple skin, creating dips in the fat of your hips as Tamzy tried to remember to breathe, “I can’t wait that long, you need to help me Tamzy please.”

These jinki were dangerous, if the tension wasn’t eased it would consume you whole. Worse than any poison or toxin that could invade your bloodstream— this was a death sentence if it wasn’t satiated.

“I can’t even touch myself like this,” You huffed in frustration, pathetic tears clung to your lashes as you rolled your hips, “I’m begging you.”

Oh, he was fucked.

That was the nail in his coffin as Tamzy took a step closer to you, “Calm down.”

He only needed to alleviate the tension enough to save you before your friends found you both, just enough to scratch the itch before backup arrived. He could get you off without penetrating you and quell the ache just enough to keep you alive— it would be fine.

Tamzy’s eyes were stoic as he reached forward to cup your molten heat, hissing upon contact when he felt just how wet your panties were. You couldn’t stop the debauched moan from tumbling between parted lips at the sensation, immediately bucking your hips to try and get more.

“Don’t tease me, Tamzy. Please—” He’d never heard you sound so carnal, so desperate before. Wondering if this is always how you sounded when you were in such a precarious position, fingers plunging into your wet cunt when you were alone at night, “Just one finger, please— just one, yeah?”

His cock is damn near painful now, straining against his boxers as it leaks copious amounts of pre. Trying to ignore the throb as deft fingers tug your panties to the side, gliding through your slick as he nudges your puffy clit.

“Just one.” He repeats. As though he’s trying to fool himself that this is okay.

“Yeah, yeah. Just one.” You babble, “Please, Tamzy. I can’t take anymore— it hurts.”

Tamzy tries to ignore the persistent pulse in his crotch as his hard cock strains against his boxers, pre coats the fabric as he shuffles his legs to try and alleviate the tension. Directing his focus to you as his fingers push through your messy slick, parting your labia as he meets resistance.

“Oh, fuck.” Your chest heaves as Tamzy’s fingers find your tight entrance, blunt nails drag against the sensitive skin as he feels you flutter around him. Desperately trying to pull him deeper inside your silky depths as he revels in how tight and warm you are, “Put them in Tamzy, please.”

Every time you murmur his name so desperately it has his cock pulsing in response, dipping a solo finger inside your warmth as he immediately feels your walls cling to him. Your hips jerk as much as they could whilst subdued by his jinki as you pathetically try to fuck yourself on his finger.

“More, Tamzy, please.” You choked, “I think I’m going insane.”

“You said one.” He counters, watching the way your hips swish against him as you desperately try to coax him in.

“I know, I know,” You whine pitifully, “But you feel so good, Tamzy. I need more—”

If you were insane, he was damn near delirious as he slipped another finger in to join the first. Immediately curling them towards the spongy spot inside you as he focused his ministrations against it. Pumping his digits with skilled precision as dark eyes focused on your face to gage your reaction.

“Is this okay?” He rasps lowly, and your cunt throbs in response. He steps closer to push his fingers deeper, adding a third when he feels a lack of resistance that has you keening in satisfaction.

“Feels so good,” You pant, chest heaving as you grind your clit against his palm, biting down on your bottom lip hard enough that the metallic taste of blood coats your tongue.

All the nights he’d fucked his fist to the thought of you couldn’t compare to this. Your head knocks against the dirty brick wall as you thrash in his grip, your smaller hand fights against his yarn to reach out to grope his crotch and Tamzy is certain that his last minuscule piece of resolve has crumbled. A deep, guttural grunt spills from his lips and he can’t stop his hips from jerking into your touch. His sweaty forehead knocks into yours as he does everything he can to keep you pinned against the wall as he continues fucking three of his fingers into your sloppy cunt. If this is how tight you are for three, he wonders how you’d feel if you took his cock—

The scent of you potent in the air as his fingers continue to crudely squelch inside your dripping cunt, drooling into his palm and down his wrist as he sets a steady pace.

“I want your cock so bad, Tamzy.” You breathe out, your voice hoarse as he fucks his fingers into your needy hole.

“Behave.” Tamzy growls, certain you’re trying to garner a reaction from him now. And he’s already used up every ounce of resolve he had by keeping you bounded by his jinki.

“Please,” You push, just like you always fucking do, “I’ll be good, I’ll do anything if you give me your cock.”

“Shut up,” Tamzy grunts, pushing the heel of his palm against your clit as you thrash against him.

“Ugh, make me.” Your tongue lolls out of your mouth now and it’s all he can do to think about shoving his hard cock inside it.

“You’re filthy.” Tamzy grunts, his palm circling your neck to squeeze at the column of your throat. Pushing your head against the wall as his warm breath fans your face, lips dangerously close to yours.

“‘m not.” You tremble, the lack of oxygen heightens the sensation of his fingers plunging into your tight cunt as he fucks them into you with vigour.

“I beg to differ,” Tamzy speeds his fingers up for emphasis, the crude squelch fills the air as more of your slick seeps out of you, cooling against your inner thighs as he presses the calloused pad of his thumb against your clit to rub messy circles against it, “You’re practically drooling onto my hand.”

“Let me drool on your cock instead.” You quip back.

Tamzy sucks a breath through gritted teeth at your lewd words, hips bucking wildly as he imagines your wet cunt soaking his cock in your essence. The moisture drooling down is length and matting into the messy hairs at the base as he fucks into you, leaving creamy rings around the base of him.

“Stop being a brat.” He grunts, but he’s not sure he wants you to.

This is already more than he should be doing, he should’ve waited for Enjin— and now he’s thinking about sinking his cock inside your wet cunt and spearing you open on him.

“Let me touch you, please? I’ll be good I promise.” He doubts that dearly as he shakes his head, sweat beads at his brow as he tries to ignore the desire building inside him. His resolve close to crumbling as he pictures sinking his throbbing cock into your silky, wet walls.

“I don’t think you will be, sweetheart.” He chastises as he continues his pace, pressing down harder which each forward motion as he pushes you closer to the edge.

“I’m close,” You trembled, your voice vibrating against his hand as it flexed against your windpipe. The coil inside you tight and dangerously close to snapping as Tamzy spend his motions up in response.

Three fingers poised to hit that same spot inside you with each forward motion, certain his pads were pruning from how wet and warm you were. Pressing down against your needy clit hard as he felt the way your cunt began to tighten around him.

“Come on, sweetheart,” He whispered, “Cum for me.”

“Oh my— fuck, Tamzy!” The sound of his name spilling from your lips is debauched, and the desperate wail that follows seals his fate.

His hips jerk clumsily as the tension inside him cuts like a knife, legs wobbling from the unabashed force of his climax as he follows you into bliss. Tamzy moans with you in tandem as he finds his release. Shooting white hot ropes of cum into his boxers that soaks his cock and balls, leaving him sticky and messy as his spunk leaks through his pants. His chest heaves as he gulps in air, hips canting forward as your desperate fingers still reach out to grab for him. Hissing when they make contact against his overstimulated cock, sending fresh aftershocks surging through him.

“I—,” You pant, tears dried in streaky lines down your cheeks as your head lolls to the side, “Did you?”

Tokushin goes lax as Tamzy comes down from his high, freeing you from the binds as you rub at the imprints against your skin. The pink lusty clouds still haze your vision as you blink up at him blearily, your palm reaches out to feel the damp spot against his crotch as Tamzy hisses in response. Still semi-hard as he throbs against your palm, caging your body in against the cave wall as he looms over you.

Oh, he’s certain you’ll be the death of him.

#tw:noncon #trigger:noncon #Tamzy caines x reader #tamsy Caines smut #Tamzy Caines smut #Gachiakuta smut #Tamzy smut #Tamzy x reader #Tamsy Caines x reader #Tamsy x reader

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writing-for-marvel · 1 year ago

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Night Shift

[He’s Hazardous To My Health Series]

Paramedic!Bucky Barnes x Resident!Fem!Reader

< < PART 5 | Series Masterlist | PART 7 > >

Summary: When you’re stuck on night shift for two weeks, you and Bucky find it difficult to spend time together.

Warnings: strictly 18+, smut, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, mention of sending nudes/audio within an established relationship, implied food play, mention of dialysis and an elderly patient dying, soft fluff

Word count: 4.5k

A/N: I truly didn’t mean for this part to be this long, yet here we are. Some soft smut and domestic fluff after the angst of part 5. Banners by @vase-of-lilies

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“My place next weekend?” Bucky poses as he peppers delicate kisses over your face. You scrunch your nose and let out a little squeal of glee that promotes him to continue his trail of kisses along your jaw and down the column of your neck.

The prospect of spending an entire week without seeing or touching Bucky seems like pure torture. You suspect Thor didn’t take kindly to you turning him down in favour of Bucky which has resulted in you covering the night shift for the next two weeks.

With Bucky still living with and taking care of his Ma recovering at home after being discharged from the surgical ward last week, and your now severely conflicting schedules, you know you won’t find the time to see each other until the following weekend.

You have to remind yourself that you only have to endure six days without him, not even a full week, but it’s the six nights attempting to fall asleep in an empty bed without his strong arms cuddling you into his broad, musky scented chest that you suspect will be more tormenting to endure.

“What have you got planned?” Your eyes narrow, trying to see if you can get any clues by reading his countenances. Unfortunately, all he does is smile, which gives away nothing except for the soft flutter of butterflies in your stomach that indicate how you enjoy being the cause of his happiness.

“You’ll just have to wait and see.” God he loves to tease, and as much as you adore him for it, having something specific to look forward to at the end of the week would actually be very helpful in surviving the week.

“Can it be next weekend already?” You whine between peppered kisses around your face. Bucky simply chuckles, but he feels your pain, he doesn’t want to have to endure the impending week without you either.

“I promise, the week will go by in a flash.”

But this one time, Bucky’s promise isn’t truthful.

The week feels like it’s moving through tar.

You’re awake when it’s pitch black outside and when you attempt to sleep at home, the sun is seeping through your curtains, almost mocking you that you can’t be outside enjoying it.

The night shift drags on more so than a regular day because you don’t have Wanda keeping you company, and you know that you won’t be able to steal glimpses of Bucky which normally sustain you throughout your shift.

You then come home and crash on an empty bed in a lonely apartment when most people are only just starting their day. Your mind can’t help but wonder what Bucky is doing at this very moment. Perhaps he’s making breakfast for his mom, and you smile thinking about them joking together over their cereal. Or maybe he’s having his morning shower, the hot water cascading over his toned body, his wet hair falling in front of his eyes as he washes his naked body.

Possibly thinking about you.

Maybe even touching himself to the thought of you being right there with him.

And that’s the image you manage to fall asleep thinking about and which enters your dreams.

The following day is no better. Sporadic messages from Bucky during his waking hours is the only contact you have with him, until it gets too late where his communication ceases altogether, under the assumption he finally fell asleep.

After driving home, and two and a half long days without seeing him, you’re desperate to hear his voice. Sadly, the only time you manage to hear it is when his voicemail instructs you to leave a message because you’ve missed him. At a very minimum he will be able to hear your voice if you leave a voicemail, so you decide to tell him about your day.

“Morning baby, I know you’re probably with your Ma, but I just finished my shift and I’m on my way home and I’d thought I’d see if I could catch you before I fall asleep. It was a tough one today, Mrs Stewart, that lovely lady on dialysis who read my cards, the one I told you about last week, she came into the ER again and passed away overnight. I organised for her daughters to come in to say goodbye, but it felt like such an injustice, she should have had more time and been able to meet her grandbaby. I wish I had been able to come home to a hug and kiss from you.” You take a short pause, trying to compose yourself. You’re a doctor, losing patients is part of the job description and just makes saving lives that more extraordinary, but it is always easier to cope when you have Bucky there to run you a bath and help wash the day off you.

You don’t get that privilege this week.

“How’s your Ma? I know you said the other day she was meeting all her goals so I’m sure she’s breaking all kinds of records and continuing to be a mischief maker just like her son is.” You let out a chuckle, thinking of your cheeky boyfriend and his even sassier mom interacting with each other makes you grin. “Two nights down, four more to go. Honestly the weekend can’t come soon enough, I already miss you and it’s only been two days! Oh also, I sent you some pictures overnight, I hope you enjoy getting to look through those before bed later, I think you’ll like them. Sending you kisses and dirty dreams. I hope we get to speak soon baby.”

You hang up feeling ever so slightly better. Even though you weren’t actually speaking with him directly, in some strange way you feel like you have.

When you wake up, a good eight hours later, feeling more exhausted than when you went to sleep, one of the notifications you’ve missed is a call from Bucky, and your heart flutters when you realise he’s also left you a long voicemail.

“Hey darling, it was so great hearing your voice just before starting my shift, I feel like my day is already brighter from just listening to you talk. I’m sorry to hear about your patient, she seemed like such a sweet lady. If I were with you I’d give you the biggest hug and kiss, you deserve them both. Just know you are an amazing doctor; and her daughters will be grateful that they got their chance to say goodbye.” There’s a long pause in the recording, so much so you think your phone has accidentally switched off, but then you hear his voice again. “Ma is doing so well, we’re getting out and doing some small walks around her neighbourhood. She’s friends with one of the lady’s down the end of the street and her poodle puppy, so her motivation to keep walking is to see little Millie and get puppy kisses. I have to take her to a follow-up appointment after work, so it might prove a little tricky finding a time to chat but hopefully I can catch you before your shift.”

Your heart sinks, after not actually getting to speak with him earlier today you had hoped this afternoon would be your best chance to do so. But as disappointed as you are, you don’t blame Bucky one bit - he has to take care of his mom, and seeing the relationship they share only makes you adore him even more.

“I had a sneak at those pictures earlier and you made me harder than a fucking rock looking like a wet dream in that lingerie set. You can guarantee I’ll be looking at those when I go to sleep tonight. I might just have to send you some audio of how much I enjoy them.” Excitement tingles down your spine and you salivate at the thought of hearing Bucky get off to pictures of you. That of all the people he’s ever been with, you’re the one he can’t get enough of. “I hope you’re resting up baby, you deserve it. I’m sure we’ll speak soon, and if not, I’m just gonna keep listening to your voicemail on repeat so I can hear your voice again.”

You listen to his message three times. Firstly, just to hear his voice, how elated he sounds speaking to your voicemail. Second, to actually take in what he said. And thirdly, to listen to the sound of his voice again.

The remainder of the week wouldn’t be such a drag now that you could listen to his voice any time you want.

* * *

After your shift ends on Saturday morning, you have a pep in your step as you exit the hospital, on your way straight to Bucky’s place.

You’re finally going to see him again and nothing, not even the wet weather that you drive through towards his apartment, will dampen that.

When he answers his door, there’s a moment's pause where you simply stare joyously at each other, as if trying to determine if this is actually real or something concocted in a dream.

Seeing Bucky’s gorgeous, smiling face after a week apart is like a breath of fresh air. After a week of suffocating, you could now take a long, deep breath, oxygenating all those cells in your body which had been crying out for him. By the achingly doting expression on his face, you are positive he has longed for this moment as much as you have.

Someone else would probably think you had spent months apart with how hurriedly you pull one another into a crushing embrace. Your arms fling around his neck, pulling him down to you, and he pulls your waist flush with his as he buries his face in your neck.

“I missed you.” You whisper in his ear, taking in the familiar scent of his eucalyptus shampoo and that musky scent which was just naturally Bucky.

“Not as much as I missed you.” He mumbles, pulling back so his lips can capture yours in a tender kiss. His lips are soft and meld against yours with languid motions.

You stay in each other's arms for a long moment, basking in the warmth of each other's embrace, letting the rest of the world melt away as you revel in the delight of being reunited.

With a kiss to your forehead, Bucky takes your hand and leads you inside, not wanting to be deficient of your touch for even a single second longer.

“I have something to show you.” He proclaims with a mischievous grin. You’re left to ponder what it might be as he doesn’t give you any hints, however, you don’t need to wait long for when he leads you through the doorway to his living space the surprise hits you square in the chest.

“Bucky…” Your jaw drops open and you’re left speechless.

His lounge room is lit up with candles, casting a soft, warm glow over the entire room and filling the air with a sweet vanilla fragrance. The couch and coffee table have been pushed to the back wall to make room for a makeshift bed of multiple blankets and pillows. A small projector sits at the foot of the ‘bed’, pointing at a now bare wall, the few pictures Bucky did have up now stored on the coffee table. To top it all off, rose petals have been scattered all around the room, with a bouquet of the same flowers tied up neatly in a pretty bow beside the bed which you can only assume is for you.

“You did all this for me?” You choke out, trying not to let your emotions get the best of you but the lump in your throat betraying you.

“I’d do anything for you.” He responds without hesitation. “I wanted to have a romantic weekend together after not seeing you for so long.”

He looks at you with such extreme fondness, like something precious he values and wants to keep safe, and you have no choice but to kiss him. Not soft and sweet like his was, but instead ardently, fiercely. As a ‘thank you’. As a ‘I missed you’. As a ‘I care about you beyond what words can describe’. As a ‘I need you right now’.

Your hands find his hair and pull lightly, in the way you know he likes and which helps you open him up to you so you can sweep your tongue in his mouth.

You’re in control of the kiss until Bucky manages to slip a large hand past the elastic of your pants, fingers finding the wet patch forming in your panties. Even the feel of his thick fingers through the material is enough to make you keen, and all of a sudden you’re putty in his hands as he takes charge.

“How long have you been this wet for me, darling?”

“All week.” You moan breathlessly as he runs his fingers through your soaking folds, making sure his thumb circles your clit with the just the right pressure he has come to know with experience makes your toes curl. “Jerking off to your pictures just isn’t the same.”

“You need the real thing, baby?” Bucky nips at your earlobe before sucking on your neck, the sensation making you dizzy with lust. You want him - no, need him, more than you’ve needed anyone before, more than you need to breathe.

“Yes, please.” You beg, hands reaching down to feel his hardening cock underneath the material of his sweatpants. His lips connect with yours again as you cup his balls through his pants, a gravelly grunt escaping his lips

“Lay down, darling.” Bucky instructs, his spare, strong hand running down your back to assist you falling backwards onto his provisional blanket bed. “I got you.” He promises as you let him hold your body weight, placing you down carefully and ensuring your head rests on one of the pillows.

Bucky cages you in, his muscular form and intoxicating scent consuming your vision and filling all your senses. His eyes are brimming with desire, observing you underneath him as if you are the most alluring sight he’s ever had the pleasure of gazing at, and it only makes the wet patch in your panties grow.

“Need you, James.” He smirks as his real name falls from your lips. Bucky knows you mean business when you use it, and though he loves to tease you, today is not the time for that, because as much as you need him, he needs you even more.

“I know baby, Imma take good care of you, make you feel so good.” Bucky coos before sliding down your body, pulling your slacks and underwear off in one go. “There’s my pretty pussy.” As soon as his plump lips suck on your sensitive bundle of nerves, you’re sent straight to heaven. Without giving you a moment to think about how almost painfully good he’s making you feel and how much you’ve missed the feel of his tongue swirling at your core, he’s slipped two fingers inside you, fervently stroking your velvety, fluttering walls.

“Shit, Buck. God, I’ve missed your mouth.” If you were with anyone but your precious Bucky, who you trust implicitly, you might be embarrassed by how quickly the band at the bottom of your stomach is tightening, ready to snap at any second. But you never feel self conscious when you’re with him - his utmost concern with your pleasure, ensuring you always feel safe and comfortable when you’re with him nourishes the trust you share.

You look down at Bucky between your legs still fully clothed, rutting into the blankets beneath him, as if he’s getting off on purely the taste of you. You swear you’ve never been with a partner who actually enjoys eating you out as much as Bucky does, rather than seeing it as a chore to get through so you’ll suck them off.

Through his long hair, strands of which have fallen in front of his face, his piercing blue eyes look up to find you watching him intently, overflowing pleasure etched on your features, whimpers and moans cascading from your mouth. This only spurs him on. With a smirk you can feel against your sensitive folds, his movements become more frantic, pushing you ever closer to your impending high.

“Make a mess on my face, darling.” His breath is hot against your centre, before diving right back in, tongue feverishly licking up every drop of arousal he himself is responsible for, as his fingers curl to find that spot inside you which makes you see stars.

“Buck- oh god, oh please, right there, fuck yes, yes, right there, don’t stop.” Your thighs squeeze around his head but it doesn’t slow him down. He’s been starving for a week and nothing, even not being able to breathe, is going to stop him from taking you over the edge of ecstasy.

And that’s exactly what he does. With a simultaneous thrust of his fingers and suction on your clit, you cum with a cry of his name, thighs quivering and toes curling as your back arches off the pile of blankets and pillows that are now in disarray.

“That’s my good girl.” He praises, continuing to pump his fingers inside you as his other hand frantically rubs your clit, prolonging your pleasure and causing your body to involuntary jerk as your orgasm fires through every cell in your body.

When you finally come down, completely out of breath and sweat beading on your brow, Bucky smirks at you in his signature, cheeky way where you can’t help a reciprocating smile blossoming in your own features.

“Now, let’s see how many times you can cum on this fat cock.”

* * *

“Bucky?” You mumble with a hoarse voice as your eyes blink open to the bright early afternoon sun streaming through the cracks in Bucky’s curtains, even though you can tell he’s tried to pull them across as far as they will go so you can sleep in mild darkness.

When you don’t get a response you turn over lazily, arm reaching out to the spot beside you on the makeshift bed only to find cool sheets and spare pillows. Your heart drops that even though you got to fall asleep beside Bucky, you haven’t been able to wake up beside him.

That moment of happiness and contentment as you both open your eyes in the morning, being the first thing you each see in the day, after being the last before falling asleep, as soft smiles spread simultaneously over both of your features, is a type of pure magic you don’t want to be deprived of once you’ve had a taste.

Hearing movement and faint sizzling coming from the adjacent kitchen, you pull Bucky’s discarded Henley over your naked form and, with a stifled yawn, shuffle towards your boyfriend.

You take a moment to lean on the doorframe and admire your burly boyfriend, shirtless, with grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips, long hair tied back from his face in a small bun as he pours batter onto a frypan.

You could get used to this.

The muscles of his bare back flex as you rest your cheek on his shoulder blade, your arms snaking around his toned midriff

“Did you sleep well?” He asks softly as the hand he’s not using covers your left hand, fingers naturally slotting between yours. One of your favourite things since officially becoming his girlfriend is how physically affectionate he’s become. He’ll make any excuse to hold your hand, to sling an arm around your shoulders or have you sitting in his lap.

The fact that he seeks out that contact with you, makes your heart flutter each time. Warmth blooms in your chest knowing you’re the only person he wants that affectionate, lovey-dovey connection with.

“Hmm I guess. Wanted to wake up next to you though.” Your arms tighten around his waist, as if to reflexively keep him close and prevent him from moving away as he had done while you were asleep.

“I’m sorry darling, our sleep schedules are just off at the moment.” You kiss a freckle on his shoulder blade, a silent recognition that you understand what he means and you aren’t upset. You observe a shiver running down his back at your soft kiss so you do it again with a smile, loving that you’re the one person who gets to elicit that kind of reaction from him.

“Watcha making?” You ask lazily, standing on your tiptoes so you can see above his shoulder to what he’s cooking in the frypan. The room smells delicious, like sugary sweetness and melting butter

“Pancakes. Figured we’d need some energy after what we did this morning.” He chuckles as you let out a little squeal of delight. No man has ever put the effort in to cook for you before, and now Bucky’s making one of your childhood favourites. “Plus, they’re one of the only things I can make well.”

“They almost look as yummy as you.” You flatter, poking him at the ticklish spot he has just above his hip which makes him squirm and giggle.

“You’ll have to make sure to save room for your dessert then.”

You fall into comfortable silence as you remain resting on his back and Bucky continues to cook the pancakes one at a time, treasuring the closeness given your separation over the past week, but not needing conversation to feel at ease with each other's presence.

“Are you gonna fall asleep on me again, huh?” Bucky’s voice pulls you away from the dark void of sleep you were falling into without realising.

“Maybe… you’re just so comfy.” You mumble, your tired lips barely articulating the words, but Bucky chuckles like he knows what you’ve said.

“Here…” He places the spatula down and before you know it, he’s grabbing you by the hips and lifting you onto the counter beside his stove. He stands between your legs, casually kissing you and hands smoothing over your bare thighs. In this moment it feels as though nothing can come between you, even the prospect of spending the rest of your career on the night shift. “My sweet girl.” He mumbles against your lips, hooking your legs around his waist, getting lost in the taste of you to the extent that he almost forgets about the batter cooking on the pan and has to frantically untangle himself from you to turn them before they burn.

Once the pancakes are done, Bucky serves them up on a plate for each of you and leads you back to the living room with your hand in his, only leaving you huddled in the blankets alone for a moment to go grab all the topping options he purchased specifically for this occasion.

You start eating your pancakes as Bucky fiddles to connect the projector, cursing under his breath when it doesn’t work. You tell him not to mind, because after finishing your pancakes, you’re interested in other activities that don’t involve watching a movie, and making use of the rest of the whipped cream Bucky bought.

Though the weekend will surely go by in a flash, you want to stay in the moment with him and enjoy every sweet and sinful second you get together.

* * *

Before you know it, Monday has come round again and you’re back on the night shift. Yes, the week without Bucky had been difficult and you didn’t like it one bit, but you made it through once, so you know you can do it again.

Besides, your weekend of indulgence certainly made up for the lonely nights and days without seeing him, so you’re using the prospect of a similar weekend as motivation to get through another gruelling week.

Early on in your shift, as you’re preparing to send a young man in for an x-ray of his possibly fractured wrist, a familiar voice calls your name as they approach the nurses desk.

“Buck?” Your heart starts beating frantically thinking something must be catastrophically wrong for him to be in the ER at this time of night. “Is everything okay? Is it your mom?” Your voice is shaky, but your concern isn’t reflected on his face.

If you weren’t in a state of panic, you would have realised that him being in his EMT uniform was an indication of the true reason he found himself inside the hospital, but you fail to notice that detail in the moment of anxiety.

“Darling, everything is fine.” He punctuates his reassurance with a sweet kiss, his large hands calmly cupping your face and savouring the feel of your lips against his. “I swapped shifts with someone on nights for the week. I didn’t want to have to go another whole week without seeing you or sleeping next to you.”

Surprise stuns you for a split second - Bucky changed to the night shift because he missed you that much last week. Your stomach does a flip at how thoughtful his gesture is.

“Or do you mean sleeping with me? Are you a little pussy drunk, Barnes?” You tease.

“Oh I’m most definitely pussy drunk. Pussy addicted even.” He affirms with his signature smirk. Warmth blooms in your chest at how shamelessly he’s into you - you have become accustomed to men’s ambiguous signals, their aversion to commitment, but with Bucky, as soon as you proclaimed yourself as his girlfriend, he’s been nothing but unabashedly yours.

“You really swapped the night shift just for me?” You ask, voice softer and more vulnerable now. No one has ever gone out of their way to inconvenience themselves for you before. Part of your brain can’t believe seeing you more is the only reason Bucky has made the switch. Surely he must have some ulterior motive?

“Of course I did.” He says with an amused lilt as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Your stomach tingles with something of devoted affection when you perceive no trace of deception in his features.

“What about your Ma?” You question, very appreciative of what Bucky has done but concerned he hasn’t thought it through the whole way.

“Steve offered to help out, and I can still see her before each shift in the afternoon and afterwards in the mornings.” He reassures with a smile that relieves any doubt you were feeling. “Spending time with you is important to me. No one makes me feel as happy and content as I do when I’m with you, so when the opportunity presented itself, of course I took it.”

Looking into his steel blue eyes, which regard you with a familiar warmth and devotion, your stomach clenches as the realisation hits you - you have something in this world you’re terrified to lose.

Perhaps his edges are a little jagged by his past, but Bucky makes you feel like you’re in the exact right place at the exact right time, that there’s no rush, nothing to run or hide from, that you are precisely where you’re meant to be.

And though you don’t tell him that you’re falling in love, you kiss him like you do.

Part 7 > >

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