#when i was trying to draw him for this painting idea i had for him and dante u_u (siiigh)
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I might b getting a cold tht is making me tired but I have a single idea I wanted to send in before I succumb
O!Steve is the God of Children & Protection, his temples r often safe havens for orphans or run aways, first time mothers pray both to O!Joyce the Goddess of Parenthood & War AND Steve the God of Children & Protection for an easy delivery & a healthy child
Steve loves walking hidden behind a glamor among mortals, especially on his festival days, he takes many forms but enjoys running with other young children as if he is one of them, his statues & mosaics & paintings depict him most often as a youthful omega with broad shoulders & eyes like stars wearing a type of clothing tht is worn by children till they come of age
It is on one of his festival days tht he meanders into the city of Hawkins from the woods as if he is a traveler come to give offerings to his own temple, he walks the streets enjoying the sounds of children laughing as they receive free treats & new toys from the priests & priestesses of every temple but especially his, one child runs into him & he stops them from apologizing by pulling out from seemingly thin air something the child had wanted but wasn't being offered among the toys, a book of mathematics. The child is gleeful & when he looks up from the book to thank the stranger (Steve) he is gone. Several more children end up getting gifts directly from Steve throughout the day, an older brother gets a slingshot while his little sister gets a sweet treat not offered at any of the stalls, a red headed girl is given a board of wood crafted w 4 wheels to replace the one she'd broken by accident (she never told this traveler abt her broken board) & her friend who's a resident of Steve's temple is gifted a necklace of finest carved wooden beads after Steve winks at her when she almost blows his cover after immediately seeing beyond his glamor. A timid boy w an unfortunate haircut is given drawing tools & materials. A snarky boy who reminds Steve of a huntress he once loved is gifted a book of various stories from around the land while his much younger sister clutches the cat doll Steve gives her tht she promptly names Cheese.
There's great fanfare as the festival reaches its main event, Steve is curious since every village/town/city does something different for this event. The city of Hawkins puts on a story contest each year tht is judged by the children's response. This year someone steps up last to tell their tale who Steve instantly recognizes as not mortal. This person's tale is decidedly dark & scary & it details some sort of future wherein the God of Children & Protection is to submit to the God of Darkness & Monsters who oversees the world of the monsters & shadows & forced to become his wife. The temple objects loudly to this tale, shouting tht Steve is a virgin God who swore off marriage & courtship & mating when a foolish mortal huntress played w his heart hundreds of years ago, to which the stranger responds he is merely telling the tale of what he wanted, a tale he will make true no matter what it'll take & when the ppl try to get the stranger to leave the stage the stranger suddenly begins to morph & change shape till he towers above the crowd with horns like a crown, claws instead of fingers & alpha fangs larger than is possible.
This is Vecna the God of Darkness & Monsters who is said to never leave his domain of shadows. He proclaims he will lay low the temple tht houses the orphans & run aways of the city & nearby villages tht he will even slaughter the children if he must till Steve appears to him & comes w him as his bride
Steve is abt to reveal himself & jump to protect the children the God is aiming to swipe his claws at when a man runs forward from the crowd brandishing a string instrument tht he uses to knock away the attempted attack, this man then also morphs & changes. The man is now crowned w a wreath upon his head tht reveals him to b a God tht had newly arrived to their land whose cult was still growing without any temples or altars, he has no name tht the humans or others in the Pantheon know, simply taking up the epitaph of the God of Indulgence & Storytelling. This new God bares his own Alpha fangs & declares he would not sit idly by while such a God of Monsters told a tale only meant to scare another into submission.
Then it is pandemonium as a clash btwn Deities begins. The ppl r evacuating the area, many adults prioritizing the children while Steve's temple is also cleared of ppl & Steve feels an anger simmering in his stomach tht boils over when he sees the boy tht he'd given the mathematics book to trip over a rock & begin calling desperately for his mother as she's swept away by the tide of panicking bodies. It explodes when he sees the boy with the slingshot carrying his sister on his back trying to help the mathematics boy up & away. Then Steve cannot contain himself as the little girl who he gave a doll is clutching it & crying as she has also clearly lost her family in the chaos & is does not know where to go.
Steve is charging forward shedding his glamor & pulling from within his clothes a long metal weapon w sharp spikes at the tip. He cuts short an attempted swipe from Vecna aimed at the stomach of the other Deity tht jumped to the children's defense. The alpha God snarls & finds himself out numbered. He continues to fight on two fronts for four days & four nights till Steve calls upon the leader of the Pantheon to intervene in Vecnas disregard for his banishment. Vecna tries to grab Steve around the wrist as he begins to retreat to his world of shadows & monsters but the new God intervenes again as the sky rumbles w the approach of Hopper the God of Justice & Storms, essentially breaking Vecnas own wrist. Then Vecna has retreated & Steve's ire is cooling as he turns to see the destruction wrought by a clash of Deities.
The mortals seem to all b safe, especially the children. The temples r untouched but other buildings have been felled. Steve turns to thank the other God for interfering when he did, but he finds this new God sunk to the ground clutching at a wound on his stomach. Steve is at his side as a grim faced Hopper descends with a furious Joyce at his side, Steve is afraid to touch in case the wound is made worse. This new God's condition begins to worsen till Murray the God of Politics & Love appears with little fanfare telling Steve to simply hold him & let this alpha God scent him.
Steve feels a deep pull within him at Murray's words & as he gathers this new God within his arms he feels a warm light blooming wherever they touch. As Steve cradles his head near his neck the scent he exudes causes a response from the other & when they pull apart to look at eachother without the threat of battle all wounds r healed. Without thought the God of Indulgence & Storytelling then tells Steve his name, Eddie.
Eddie asks to court Steve without a thought to the Deities & gathering mortals around them. Steve heartily agrees.
Hundreds of years from tht battle art depicts Steve the God of Children & Protection embracing his husband & consort Eddie the God of Indulgence & Storytelling
OH YES DELIGHTFULđ„°đ„°đ„°
#slick sunday#steddie#steddie omegaverse#omega steve harrington#alpha eddie munson#steve x eddie#omegaverse#a/b/o#my asks
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Hi, can I request a continuation of Wasp's twin who took his place?
Maybe something about the team Prime getting worried over Buddy rarely leaving her room? And when she does she just sits in a corner and hugs her knees?
Buddy is also scared of going outside the base, because what if the Elite Guard comes to earth and found her? She will get thrown to the stockade again!
Optimus is like, "i'm not a doctor, but i'm pretty sure this isn't good for her".
And ratchet is like, "i'm a doctor and I can comfirm this is not healty for her, we need to make her come out of her room more as soon as possible".
And then Bulkhead is like, "oh, I know how!", and takes out his art.
He shows his art to Buddy which draws her attention a lot.
Maybe that's how Buddy gets into pottery and knitting, Bulkhead inspired her!
(I'm sending this twice incase it disappears from the inbox)
I'm giving Wasp's twin sister a name! Look for it in the link for established Buddy names!
Hope you enjoy!
Wasp's Twin Sister finds a hobby
SFW, Platonic, Slight Angst, Cybertronian reader
TFA
Ever since the news of the Elite Guard potentially making a stop on Earth happened, the team had noticed their newest member, Vespa, had been a bit closed off.
No, that was an understatement.
Vespa was either always in her habsuite or sprinting across the Plant to get something and go straight back to her habsuite.
Bumblebee tried once to make her stop during one of her sprints.
Bumblebee has Vespa grabbed by the waist. Bumblebee: âGotcha!â Vespa lets out an unearthly shriek before biting on his servo. Bumblebee: âOW!â Vespa zooms back into her habsuite. Bumblebee is on the floor groaning at the bite marks on his servo. Bulkhead: âThat looks like it hurt.â Bumblebee: âYou think!â
Yeah, the yellow scout stopped trying to stop her after that.
Soon enough Optimus called in for a mini meeting to discuss Vespaâs situation.
He was no medic, but he knew that what she was doing definitely wasnât healthy.
Ratchet backed him up, as a doctor, this indeed wasnât healthy behavior at all.
They had tried to ask what was wrong in the past, but so far nothing has worked.
Optimus had tried to lure Vespa out with a chat, but she just politely patted his pede and left.
Ratchet tried to get her to talk with a medical examine⊠too bad she knew that she wasnât scheduled for another physical exam yet.
Prowl tried to get her to go to the park, but that was immediately shot down when she sprinted the other way.
Bumblebee tried to get Vespa to sit down for a movie marathon, but it turns out the yellow bot still didnât know what types of movies she liked watching yet.
Team Prime were grasping straws, trying to think of any other way to get Vespa to talk to them.
They had tried everything!
ExpectâŠ
Sari carefully knocked on Vespaâs door. Sari: âVespa? Its Sari.â Nothing. Sari: âIâm not feeling good and could really use a friendâEEK!â Sari nearly had whiplash from how fast Vespaâs servo shot out and grabbed her into the habsuite. The bots hiding not too far from the door blinked. Prowl: âI donât think Iâve seen a bots servo move that quicklyâŠâ
It took a couple minutes before Sari would emerge from the habsuite wearing a worried look on her face.
She relayed back that Vespa was worried about the Elite Guard showing up outside the Plant, waiting to snatch her up and bring her back to the stockades.
Oh⊠that explained a bitâŠ
As the others were trying to think of ways to reassure Vespa that the Guard was not here, Bulkhead suddenly had an idea.
Bulkhead knocks on Vespaâs door. Vespa opens it a bit. Vespa: âBulk?â Bulkhead: âCan we paint together?â Vespa opens the door a bit more with a confused expression. Vespa: âWhat âpaintâ Bulk?â Bulkhead offers his servo to her. Bulkhead: âCâmon Iâll show you! And if you donât like painting, Iâm sure I can find you some other art we can get you to do.â Vespa looked around hesitantly. Bulkheadâs optics soften gently patting her helm. Bulkhead: âNo oneâs gonna hurt ya little buddy. Itâll just be me and you.â After a minute Vespa gives him a small smile and takes his servo.
Bulkhead makes it very clear to the others for his idea to work, it just needed to be him and Vespa alone.
Given the limited number of ideas, they let him continue.
After about an hour Bulkhead came back to the main room followed closely by Vespa.
She sill looked nervous, but a bit more relaxed.
The smaller bot was covered with wet and dry splotches of clay and paint.
In her servos she proudly presented her greatest creation.
A human sized mug and gifted it to Sari.
It had an atrocious orange and pink coloring, but Sari didnât dare try and put the bots spirits down.
This made the bot beam with pride, something the team had never seen before.
The smile suited her.
After that day, Bulkhead was slowly trying to get Vespa to start creating things with the pottery set whenever she felt extremely nervous or scared, and it seemed to be working.
 It was a bit of a pain to scrap off the bits of dried and cracked clay from off her armor, but she had to admit it the activity did make her calmer, and she could make gifts for her new friends!
Team Prime swore to take in every one of Vespaâs sculptures no matter how weird looking or horrendous coloring it had.
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sketches of the shirts (1, 2) i gave my sister on xmas since the actual ones didn't come in time xD;; (tbh, i did order them kinda late in the month but hey, she got a good laugh out of them).
#she got me a dante one from the same etsy which printed very dark tho the print of her two shirts came out great#also a bit late on posting these as i was busy finishing off some friend's gifts last week ;;;#just as a heads up#dmc#devil may cry#dmc vergil#bg3#baldur's gate 3#astarion ancunin#sketches#will it be the only time i draw these two? idk...#also kinda annoyed how easily i was able to draw vergil this time when compared to a couple years ago..#when i was trying to draw him for this painting idea i had for him and dante u_u (siiigh)
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I'll probably draw an actual thing of this at some point, but here is a musing on Prince/Duke Fernando đ€
#i cant find the post AAAHH but iremember at some point i mentioned sebobsessing over old paintings of nando#and this is what i was envisioning hehe!!little baby renault fernando in the mostgaudy fluffy outfit ever#back when he still had big aspirationsahhhh#Imao he lowkey reminds me of belle inbeauty and the beast. ig its just the colors#seb wants him to wear more colors thanjust red and black after seeing all the youngportraits of him in pastels and flowers#BUT ISNT HE SO CUTE??????cutest little prince duke in the world whodoesnt know the world of kingly suffering#cutest little prince duke in the world whodoesnt know the world of kingly sufferinghe has in store for him in the future#also i said i wanna draw but ugh havingthe weird thing where things arent comingout right so thats why this isnt a full piece#but just the idea of him in 1700s clothes wblue/yellow has been haunting me deeplyso i wanted to try it!!#boy king au#catie.art.
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#ive been looking thru pics from this summer and damn do i have allot unfinished paintings and drawings#and some of them r pretty cool and original too but i just could not see it at the time#i felt the urge to work largely without reference which yielded cool stuff but it was also allot harder to figure out when smth was done#and when i felt that something was missing it made it harder to identify what that may be#anyways im doing smth in gouache for the first time in over a year and im gonna stick to it bc i dont wanna repeat the pattern#plus i dont wanna waste the fancy big format paper its on lol#anyways im quite confident and happy with the result when directly working frm references but artistically i just dont find it satisfying#i might work up the courage to post some unfinished stuff bc why not#also i found some rly cool thumbnails and ideas id forgotten about#music#Bandcamp#omg also i had this awkward ass moment where i was trying to walk past a guy and he like kept on getting closer to me even tho i was at the#edge of the sidewalk and kept on matching my pace even when i was nearly running#and like throwing glances at me until i finally passed him at an intersection#maybe im just overthinking but its like he wanted it to seem like i was with him or smth?#but he didnt try to talk to me#anyways ive had much worse interactions with men#its jst embarrassing to think ppl may have thought i was with that rando fuckboy looking man#and ive been celibate by choice for years now so mayb that contributes to me being esp put off and self conscious at the idea of coming#accross differently
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âHe pins you down on the carpet, makes paintings with his tongue.â
Paintings With His Tongue
Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader
18+ â€ïžâđ„MDNI âŒïž
âCome on, just tell me what youâre thinking,â Reid smirks and tosses a ball of tissue paper at you.
You cross your legs and tug up your knee high socks. The carpet in his apartment is soft on your legs and you shake your head as you continue to wrap JJâs baby shower gifts from the team.
You had gotten her a puzzle with the new babyâs name as the pieces âMichaelâ it read. You thought it went so well with Henry,
âI shouldnât have said anything, itâs a me issue,â you shake your head. You had bit your tongue on a risquĂ© joke that could have been taken as a pass at him.
The truth was, you were extremely pent up. You dumped your abusive ex weeks ago when he bruised your eye. Even before then, your needs were not being met. But you have always had a thing for Dr.Reid and now being alone with him in his apartment⊠you were barley holding yourself together.
He moistened his plump lips with his tongue in frustration and sighed. The movements of his deft fingers as he wrapped a present caused you to squirm. How exactly the two of you got roped into present wrapping duty was still a mystery. Though you guessed Garcia was trying to finally push you two into each other like Barbie and Ken dolls. You smile to yourself.
âSee? What was that- what are you thinking?â He calls you out.
âYou may never know,â you flirt and snatch the tape from his grip.
He raises an eyebrow at you, those deep brown eyes pleading.
You stretch your legs out in front of you, placing your crossed feet on his lap. His eyes travel up to your short skirt which allows him a view of your creamy thighs. You swear he swallows hard.
âI was just thinkingâŠâ you start slowly. He leans forward attentively.
He rests one hand on your shin, his long fingers wrapping it completely.
âThinking what?â The air charges and he separates your crossed legs only to lean forward and closes the distance between the two of you. Your heart hammers and you forget how to breathe.
âIâŠâ you think heâs about to kiss you as he gets closer, forcing you to pull your knees to your chest to give him room as you lean back on your palms.
He snatches the other wrapping paper from behind you and moves back to sit. You inhale sharply and shake your head. Fuck.
He pushes his hair back from his face and you nearly fall apart. You know you need to do something about your neediness. Heâs your coworker for fucks sake.
Then an idea pops into your head.
âYou know what, weâre profilers. Why donât YOU tell me what IâM thinking,â you challenge him.
He looks up at you through his messy long hair with the handle of the scissors in his mouth. His fingers quickly work to tape up the diaper bag for JJ.
âI donât know if IâŠâ
âYou doubt your abilities Dr. Reid?â You sit up straight.
âI doubt youâll like what I profile,â he reasons.
That makes you doubt he knows what youâre actually thinking.
âTry me,â you demand and stuff a bag full of tissue paper.
He narrows his eyes on you and loosens his tie. The dark cardigan was already tossed into the couch three presents ago and he begins rolling up his sleeves.
âYouâre healing from your recent break up. You feel guilty that you miss him because he hurt you but you do. What you donât quit understand is that you miss attention, not him. You deserve better but you donât think so,â he pauses to sip his wine. You tilt your head.
âIs that it?â You jest.
âYou knew you and I would be alone so youâre wearing something more revealing than you might have otherwise. You flip your hair over your shoulder to draw my attention to your neck. You lean back and allow me to see your thighs because you want me between them.â
Your mouth falls open at his words. But he doesnât stop there.
âNot because you want me specifically but because you want that attention I mentioned before. Perhaps a distraction orâŠâ
âNo- thatâs not true,â you cut him off.
âYouâre wearing glasses, knee high socks, and a school girl style skirt because you perceive me as intellectually superior. You have a school girl and teacher fantasy you wish to act out.â
He leans forward between your legs again. He braces himself above you when you lean back on your elbows and he keeps talking.
âYouâve been trembling since you got here, you wonât stop biting your lip, and you keep squeezing your thighs together. You were about to make a joke that showed your hand but thought better of it because you fear rejection. You also donât want to cross professional boundaries, and you canât gauge where my interests lie.â
Youâre dumbfounded, actually speechless as his breath fans across your face.
âYour inability to read my micro expressions leaves you feeling uncertain about the chemistry we have and I intended it to be that way. The truth is I want nothing for than to bury my face between your legs and make you scream my name until your throat is so sore that you remember it everytime you speak tomorrow,â he holds your gaze and youâre melting.
You feel your cunt pulsing with need and you want to squeeze your thighs together for some relief but you canât because heâs kneeling between them.
âPlease,â is all you can manager to whimper.
He grips you behind the knees and slides you forward so quickly you barely register it. You fall willingly onto your back with a soft huff and watch him meticulously roll your skirt up. His hair is messy and disheveled and he seems to be panting with need just like you are.
Wrapping paper crinkles beneath you but you donât care when he leans down and begins kissing your thighs.
âSpencer,â you inhale in shock at his lips on your skin.
He continues to kiss your soft skin then starts nipping it gently. His fingers dig into the outside of your thighs, pinning them open. You never would have thought heâd be so⊠demanding?
He starts to kiss your pussy through your underwear and you writhe against him. The friction is heaven but the view of him there could send you both straight to hell. He moves one hand up to your hip to pin you down why he uses a thumb to rub your clit. Heâs kissing your pussy gently and you know youâre soaked, you know he can feel it through the thin fabric.
Finally he rolls your panties down and out of the way. He looks up at you for consent ones more and dives in like heâs been waiting to his entire life.
Itâs too much, itâs everything. His nose pushes against your clit, his tongue drags up between your folds, he comes back down to your interest and pushes his tongue into it into you mewl.
Heâs moaning and he licks and laps at your cunt, slowly to savor it. He moans as he sucks your clit into his mouth and moves back down to your hole.
âOh my god,â you cry and tighten your thighs around his head.
He sucks on your pussy and audibly devours you on his living room floor. He skillfully and artfully brings you to climax and before you know it youâre coming over and over again for him. You pant beneath him and whimper but he doesnât stop.
He makes small whimpering noises of approval and eats you like a man starved. Your pussy quivers and responds to him as he continues to beckon more cum out of you. You swear his tongue must be painting a masterpiece or spelling every word in the English language.
âOne more,â he pants from between your legs.
You roll your eyes back as the fourth orgasm siezes you. You canât even try to tense your legs anymore, theyâre jell-o. Youâre shocked when the last orgasm is more squirting that your usual.
âIâm sorry!â You squeal but he laughs and dives back into you, his strong hands still gripping your hips. You cover your face in embarrassment, not ever having had more than one orgasm per sexual encounter.
Ones he fills himself on that last orgasm which left you red faced and embarrassed, Spencer sits up from between your legs. Heâs on his knees looking down out you when he brings his shirt up to wipe his face.
You cover your eyes with your hands, utterly shy under his gaze.
âYou are incredible,â he breathes.
âMe? You⊠youâre the one that did all the⊠that,â you stammer gesturing between the two of you. You sit back up and pull your skirt down.
âMhmm,â he grins sinisterly at you.
You remain in awe that this man just did that to you. You crushed on him but you never imagined him to be so skilled, so dirty mouthed, and egotistic about his abilities. You glance down and see just how much he enjoyed himself, taken aback by the length of said enjoyment.
You lick your lips hungrily.
âFor the record. Itâs not about attention for me, I genuinely like you,â you assert and reach for his belt.
He raises his eyebrow in a âtouchĂ©â manner and crosses his hands behind his back as he watches you pull him free from his pants.
#Spotify#spencer reid#mgg#criminal minds#mgg pics#dr reid#spencer reid one shots#spicy spencer reid#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid x bau!reader#spencer reid x fem!reader smut#Spencer Reid smut#sabrina carpenter
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pairing: alpha!soulmate!jeno x afab!omega!reader
words: 2.9k+
summary: your first meeting with the notorious lee jeno sends you spiraling into heat.
genre: smut
warnings: a/b/o dynamics, knotting, breeding kink, cunnilingus, degradation, mating, some public sex
âYouâre coming with me to the Governorâs Ball tonight.â
Your eyebrow raises at Hyewon, who is eagerly sitting across from you, practically jumping out of her seat. The Beta in her is naturally timid, so she must be extremely excited to be acting this way.
âAnd why would I do that?â You ask, displaying no interest in the event. âItâs just going to be a room filled with rowdy Alphas.â
âThatâs why weâre going, duh,â Hyewon says as if youâve lost a few brain cells. âIt wonât just be an event with any regular Alpha â these Alphas will be the most handsome and richest of all!â
Hyewon comes from an affluent family that has an expectation of her to marry wealthy. You know she has been trying for years to pair with any man who has millions in his bank account, yet none of them can match her standards.
You, on the other hand, couldnât care less about finding an Alpha to mate with. Youâve always envisioned yourself with a calmer Beta, someone who had realistic goals and expectations and wasnât driven by the feral nature of their genetics. Alphas are known for being possessive and dominant, and it just doesnât seem like an ideal relationship for you.
âHyewon, I really donât think thatâs my scene.â
âCome on,â she pouts at you. âDo you know how lucky you are to be an Omega? I would kill to present like you and have every Alpha bend to my whim.â
The statement is slightly exaggerated but not entirely untrue. As an Omega, you do recognize that you have more of a leverage with Alphas as your scent is naturally more alluring to them than a Betaâs. However, you have always opposed the idea that Omegas are solely born to satisfy Alphas. They see you as nothing but a hole to fill and a neck to be marked.
Hyewon clutches to your wrist and pleads loudly, drawing looks from other students lingering in the cafe.
âPlease, please, please-â
âOkay!â You huff, withdrawing your hand and looking down bashfully. âFine, Iâll go with you.â
She throws her arms up and cheers happily.
â
Hyewon wraps you in a stuffy, form fitting dress which is covered head to toe in expensive crystals. She insists you have to shine at the event in order to stand out from all the other Omegas in attendance tonight. Despite your indifference, you let her play dress up as she wants.
She tugs you into the lavish Governorâs Ball, where most of the political leaders of your town are gathered. Hyewonâs eyes lock into the Lee family, the most influential household in werewolf existence.
You donât know much about the Lee family despite their powerful presence, but Hyewon is quick to fill in the gaps. âThatâs Lee Taeyong,â she whispers to you as she points to the stoic man standing across the room. âHeâs the oldest, and heâs actually nicer than he looks. The one next to him is the middle child, Lee Mark.â The man she points to has a similar bored expression painting his face, slowly swirling his champagne glass to find a source of amusement. You can tell from the lilt in Hyewonâs voice that he is the Alpha she has her sights set on for the night. âAnd that guy is the youngest, Lee Jeno. Donât even try with him, heâs a waste of time.â
Your eyebrows furrow at the Alpha, who appears angrier than any other male in this ballroom. You can practically feel his disdain coursing through your veins.
âWhy is he so⊠grumpy?â
She laughs at your question. âI told you, heâs a waste of time. Heâs always pissed off at these events for no reason and hates it when any Beta or Omega tries to make conversation with him. Heâs the worst Lee brother to mate with.â
Hyewon soon leaves you to your own devices, heading off to try and win Mark over. You awkwardly make conversation with a few other Omegas around you, but they seem more interested in gathering the attention of the Lee brothers than actually engaging with you.
Midway through the event, you head to the bathroom down the corridor to freshen up. You gasp when you turn the corner and suddenly ram straight into someoneâs chest. Your champagne glass falls to the floor and shatters across the marble, but that is the last thing youâre concerned about.
Your body suddenly starts to feel like itâs on fire, heat spreading through your core rapidly. You choke and clutch your stomach, glancing up to see the reason behind your misery.
Jeno stands in front of you, eyes blooming red as he drinks you in. You pant and take a step back from him, recognizing the signs of your approaching heat.
But that canât be possible â your heat isnât due to come for another few weeks.
âW-What did y-you do-â You wheeze, embarrassed by the slick dampening your panties.
âOmega,â Jeno says, stern glare painting his face as he reaches for you. âCalm down.â
His fingers brush by your mating gland and you gasp. His touch feels like someone rubbed a match and lit a fire against your skin. You turn and run as fast as you can, reentering the ballroom and darting straight for Hyewonâs figure. Every Alphaâs head turns at the scent of your growing heat, baring their teeth at your lewd display.
âHyewon,â you beg, clutching her arm. âYou need to take me home.â
âWhatâs wrong? Are you okay?â
As a Beta, Hyewon canât smell your growing arousal or detect the signs of you going into your heat. All she sees is her friend with a desperate look on her face. Mark, who is standing across from her, shifts his predatory gaze to you. Hyewon notices the change in him and she quickly pulls you behind her.
âA-Are you going into heat?â She asks quietly.
You nod and whimper. She asks no further questions, wrenching your figure close to hers and locating the nearest exit. She shoves you into the first limousine in the parking lot and shuts the door behind her, shouting your address at the driver.
You grasp her elbow and cry. âHyewon, this is a strong one-â
A wave of arousal shoots down your spine, causing you to fall deeper and deeper into your subspace. If Hyewon doesnât lock you in your bedroom soon, youâre afraid you might offer yourself to the first Alpha you see.
âWhy didnât you say you were about to go into heat?â She chastises, grabbing a tissue to dab at your sweltering forehead. âLet me call Jaemin.â
You stop her from taking her phone out of her purse. âN-No, donât call him. I donât want him.â
âWhat? You always use Jaemin for your heats.â
âNo,â you shake your head, still unsure of why youâre denying her. Sheâs right â since your first heat, you have always asked Na Jaemin to come over and take care of you. He was a family friend and never took advantage of you at your worst. However, thereâs a sinking feeling in your gut thatâs telling you Jaemin is the last Alpha you want to see right now. âJust get me home.â
You barely register Hyewon helping you into your apartment, faintly remembering her guiding you to your bed.
âW-What should I-â
âPlease leave,â you say, writhing and desperately pulling at the zipper of your dress to get it off you. âTrust me, you donât want to see me like this.â
She frowns, her voice filled with concern. âBut-â
âPlease, Hyewon,â you plead. âThank you for getting me here but you need to leave.â
You hear the front door close just as you fling your dress to the floor, quickly locating your vibrator in your nightstand. You pull your panties to the side and sigh in relief when you sink the toy into your heat. It only quenches your pain slightly, but itâs enough to simmer down the fire in your belly.
Youâre unaware of how much time has passed when thereâs another knock at your door. Youâre writhing on the bed sheets, begging for another orgasm as your hand has grown tired of lazily pushing your vibrator in and out of your dripping pussy. Your fingers circle your clit slowly as you plead for the moon to end your misery.
You miss the sound of your door rattling off its hinges, mind overtaken by a cloud of fuzziness. Loud stomping echoes throughout your apartment and a large figure invades your room, growling when he sees the sight of you hopelessly twisting your hips to gain any sort of comfort.
A hand wraps around your throat and squeezes, forcing another gush of arousal to leak down your thighs.
âWhat do you think youâre doing, Omega?â His voice scarily questions, nearly spitting in your face. âHow dare you touch whatâs mine?â
They used to spread stories of true mates when you were in high school â stories of how when an Alpha meets the destined Omega they were born to be mated with, it would immediately send the Alpha and Omega into their corresponding ruts and heats. You always thought it was some odd wolf propaganda created centuries ago to carry on the belief that true mates still existed. However, as you look at Jeno hovering above you, there is no doubt in your mind that he is your true mate.
The fuzzy parts of your brain start to clear. âJ-Jeno?â
He grins, leaning down to lick at the shell of your ear. âThatâs Alpha to you. Present yourself.â
You scramble to follow his order, shoving your head into the pillow and arching your ass up in the air. He clicks his tongue mockingly.
âA pretty, submissive Omega. You know, I always wondered what cute little thing I was destined to end up with. I never thought the moon would grant me a beautiful mate like you,â he hums, digits collecting the remnants of your orgasm across your thighs. He groans as he licks the taste of you off his fingers. âYou want your Alphaâs knot, baby?â
You nearly unravel at the thought of him filling you deep with his cum, giving you so much of it that it spills out of your tiny pussy.
âA-Alpha,â you whine. âPlease Alpha, please knot me.â
You hear the clink of his belt buckle and your body thrums in excitement. He plants his knees down on the mattress, shrugging off his slacks and throwing his stuffy blazer to the side. He ducks his head to lick a stripe up your folds.
You shudder, bunching the sheets in your fists and practically sobbing at the need to have his cock inside of you. Youâve never felt this hopeless during your heat before, never craved another Alphaâs cock like this.
Jenoâs hands tighten around your hips as he laps at your cunt, groaning at the sweetness of your taste. It only takes a few seconds for you to gush into his waiting mouth, the sounds of him eagerly swallowing your release filling the room.
Your body slumps on the mattress at the weight of your orgasm. You barely have time to recover when you feel his tip prodding your entrance.
He growls. âBeg for my cock, Omega whore.â
âPlease, Alpha, please fuck me. I want your knot to fill my pretty pussy, want you to mark me and make me yours-â
The thought of you being mated to him is what sends Jeno feral. He pushes his cock inside your waiting hole, slick dripping down your thighs and giving him easy access to slide in. You sigh in relief when heâs finally deep inside you, quelling the fire in your stomach that was pleading for him.
He doesnât waste time â ramming into you at an inhuman speed, hands angrily digging into your sides and slapping your ass until his palm is imprinted on your backside. Your head lolls to the side, officially giving Jeno complete control to use you as you wish.
Just like with your other heats, your body throws you into climax after climax until the pleasure molds itself into your skin. Jeno is still spitting the most filthy, degrading words at you as his knot slowly approaches.
âLook at you, silly Omega. Offering yourself up to the first Alpha you see. Would you have given this cunt to someone else, hm? Let them take whatâs rightfully mine?â At the shake of your head, he smirks. âThatâs right. Pretty Omegaâs pussy is made only for me. Designed for my knot, designed to breed for my future pups.â
The thought of him impregnating you with the future of the respected Lee line prompts you over the edge again. Jeno hisses and grabs the back of your neck, hoisting you up easily to his chest as you hear the sound of his balls slapping against your cunt forcefully.
âGonna keep cumming around your Alphaâs cock? Never had a heat like this one before, have you, baby? Thatâs because the moon has finally brought you to your true mate, and you never have to spend another heat without me again.â
You cry in pleasure at the thought of being able to spend every heat with Jeno. You never minded Jaemin being your heat partner, but this satisfaction and connection is something youâve never felt with anyone else. You genuinely think youâll die if you go through another heat without Jeno beside you.
âA-Alpha,â you whimper, steadily holding onto his arm thatâs securely wrapped around your middle. âPlease knot me, Alpha. Youâre the only one who can.â
âYeah?â He groans at how desperate you sound for him. âWant your Alphaâs big knot? Want to be bred like a good little Omega?â
You nearly sob. âY-Yes! Yes, please!â
He tilts your head and exposes your neck. His fingers carefully run over your mating gland, causing a shiver to run down your spine.
âAnd this? Is this for me to mark, Omega?â
You frantically nod. âYes, Alpha. Only for you.â
You know itâs a big step, a permanent marking that would tie Jenoâs Alpha to your Omega forever. Your mind screams at you to reconsider this decision when you have a clearer head, but your heart tells you that thereâs nothing to mull over â Jeno is your Alpha and you need the whole world to know.
As his knot begins to swell inside you, his teeth sink into your mating gland, uniting your souls into one. Every feeling Jenoâs ever had courses through your veins, multiplying your pleasure tenfold. Your thighs begin to shake at the amount of gratification flowing through your body.
You almost pass out from the overwhelming sensation, and your body goes slack in Jenoâs hold. His cum shoots deep into your womb, filling you and marking you as his until his release is leaking down your thighs.
You both collapse on the mattress, with Jeno pulling you close to ensure his knot stays rooted deep inside you.
Your head starts to free from your subspace temporarily, and you carefully scan your room as he licks at the wound on your neck to clean you up.
âDid you- Did you break my door?â
Indeed, you can see your front door laying flat in the hallway, nearly shattered. Jeno hums softly.
âIt was in my way.â
You think about how your apartment floor mustâve had to evacuate from the profound smell of your scent mixed with Jenoâs. You would feel guilty about it but considering Jeno has no shame over it, his emotions overpower yours.
âWant to fuck you again, Omega,â he hisses against your skin. âLove being mated to you.â
His honest confession forces another wave of arousal to spill from your pussy, leaking around his knot.
âYeah, Alpha?â
He grunts and starts thrusting into you again, only being able to move a few inches as his knot is still plugging his cum into you. You gasp and pull him down to kiss you.
âMy friend-â you murmur in between moans. âMy friend told me you hate Betas and Omegas.â
âOf course I do,â he hisses, propping your leg over his hip so he can push in deeper. âI hate every Beta and Omega who thinks they have a shot at being my mate.â
âYou looked so grumpy when I first saw you.â
âI am grumpy,â he mumbles, hands darting to knead your breasts. âGrumpy for everyone except you.â
He grins when you squirt around his knot, your cunt sensitive from the constant rounds of fucking. Your eyes roll to the back of your head at your unexpected orgasm, body twitching in your Alphaâs hold.
Jeno fucks you until the sun rises to indicate the start of a new day. You two barely sleep, exploring various positions throughout your apartment and even the hallway of your complex, ushering more and more residents on the lower floors to evacuate from your scents. Their dirty looks are quickly changed when they see the notorious Lee brother claiming his new mate for all to see.
His cock doesnât allow your pussy to rest until heâs sure youâve been impregnated.
When you finally come to, youâre sprawled on your living room floor with a mix of your slick and Jenoâs cum surrounding you. He continues to lick at your skin as if heâll die without fully receiving his taste of you.
Itâs odd since despite only knowing him for less than a day, you feel like youâve known him your whole life.
âI want-â you pant, trying to regain your breath. âI want to fuck you forever.â
He chuckles. âIs that so, Omega?â He raises his head to see you, a predatory gaze lingering in his eyes. You wonder if you have it in you to go another few rounds.
âLucky for you, weâre mated for life. Iâm not going anywhere.â
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Can I request Hazbin Hotel characters reacting to an artist!reader that draws a lot but never shows anyone their work but one day accidentally left it out and their partner finds it and sees several sketches and finished drawings of them? Sorry if itâs an odd ask, Iâm an artist and I thought it would be a cute idea I donât see nearly enough, itâs okay if you canât. Thank you either way!!!
Artist Rendition
Hazbin Gang x GN!Reader
TW:A little flirty with Angelâs reaction. Other than that none!
A/N: Not an odd request at all, Friend! For Angelâs part I did write for a male Reader and Fem Reader for Vaggie! KINDA SHORT I APOLOGIZE FRIEND!
-đŠAlastorđŠ-
-đŠ Alastor was very curious to see you carry a sketchbook around all the time. He wanted to pry so badly.
-đŠ But he didnât, he simply ignored the book and only ever asked about it if you were near him. You always get flustered and hide the book even further. Oh now heâs wondering what kind of dark secrets you have in there~
-đŠ But to his surprise when he finds it open and on a page, he sees drawings of him, he carefully flips the page and sees a half down sketch of him sitting in front of the fireplace.
-đŠ Oh boy you just made his ego inflate and his undead heart soar to new heights. His tail starts wagging and thatâs the only way someone can catch how happy he is.
-đŠ Now? Heâs going to poke a little fun at you, âMy Dear, if you had to pick anyone in the hotel to be your muse who would it be?âÂ
-đŠ Silly deer man loves you and your abilities, he often tells you that your work needs to be displayed in a museum.
-đLuciferđ-
-đ Oh boy- when he finds out you can draw? Oh he gets super excited and asks if you can draw him a duck- even if itâs a little doodle! He doesnât care!
-He doesnât really ask or pry into your hobby much but he will admit he does want to see what you draw.
-When he does see that you drew him of all people he gets all flustered and heâs prideful cause his partner?? His darling little angel drew him?!?
-He will volunteer to pose for you, heâs used to sitting still for hours on end!Â
-He will even pose naked if you want him to! Just say the word and heâll drop his clothes right there.
-đ°Huskđ°-
-đ° He watched you sit at the bar and draw to your heart's content and never really commented on it.
-đ° When he does peek into your sketchbook itâs to pull behind the bar into a safe place so nothing ruins your work.
-đ°Thatâs when he notices the drawings and doodles of him and his tail curls happily. The way you captured him doing menial tasks sends his heart into overdrive.
-đ° You were too good for him, damn it. The next time you find it? It has a little sticky note on the cover of your sketchbook and it has a little drawing of you with a small message, âHad to go out with Alastor. Love you, Dollface.âÂ
-đ·ïž Angel Dust đ©·-
-đ·ïž Oh this man- he loves it! Youâre an artist and heâs also like an artist! But of a very very different genre.
-đ©· He also doesnât pry much as he understands privacy. He wants to give you that as much as he can since he doesnât get much of it.
-đ·ïž Once he finds out you draw him? Heâs over the fucking moon cause his man? His precious boyfriend draws him!Â
-đ©·Expect him to start flirting more and more but with art related flirts. âCome on, Sugaâ~ Draw me like one of your french girls~â im sorry. Heâs very supportive!
-đCharlieđ-
-đ oh this baby girl..sheâs been so busy lately that if she did notice it completely slipped her mind!
-đ But when she finds your sketchbook? She gets super excited cause you draw this good?? Sheâs so proud that she immediately goes to find you!
-đ She is another who fully supports you! You need anything, don't hesitate to ask!
-đ Will try to convince you to start painting for the hotel! You can say no it wonât offend her.
-đVaggieđ-
-đ Much like Husk she wonât point it out or comment on it.
-đWill find out you draw her when she sees it when cleaning up and gets all blushy cause this is how you see her?
-đ Comes clean immediately about seeing your drawings and tells you how amazing they are.
-đ Shyly asks if she can pose for you next time, how could you say no to her?
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel imagine#gn reader#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor x reader#alastor x you#alastor x gn!reader#angel dust imagine#angel dust x you#angel dust x male reader#hazbin angel dust#angel dust x reader#vaggie x reader#hazbin vaggie#vaggie#charlie morningstar#charlie x reader#hazbin charlie#lucifer x reader#lucifer x you#hazbin lucifer#hazbin hotel lucifer#husker x reader#husker hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel husk#husk x reader#husk x you#male reader#female reader
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Don't Blame Me
Fandom:Â Bridgerton
Summary:Â Daphne Bridgerton is your closest childhood friend, her eldest brother, Anthony, is the love of your life. After avoiding each other for years, you both finally lose control.
Length:Â 3.2k
Pairing:Â Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader
Content Warnings:Â Unprotected sex, sex in public, penetrative vaginal sex, orgasm, 'caught in the act' vibes, best friends brother.
Bridgerton master list (tag list)
Like many other close family friends of the Bridgertonâs, their home was always a beacon of safety and comfort, especially for you. You were Daphne Bridgertonâs first friend, and you had remained close well into adulthood, she wrote to you still from her new life with the Duke. Unfortunately, Daphne would not be able to meet you in Mayfair this season, the Bridgertonâs playing host while your mother and father were out of the country. It was your third year out; you had a few hopeful matches in mind, not realizing how difficult the season might be with unobtainable love staring you in the face.
âWe are so glad to have you this year, y/n. It has been so long since we have seen you around the Tonâ Violet Bridgerton was as much your mother as your own.
âFatherâs responsibilities have been consuming these past few years. Mother and I hardly made it to the season last year. I am glad to be here, spending some time in familiar placesâ You smiled, linking arms with her as she escorted you to the ballroom. Your parents had entrusted your match to you, however, had requested the viscountess to keep a watchful eye.
Waltzing into the drawing room, just like old times, Benedict and Colin, discarding their playing cards, exclaimed with joy, rushing to greet you as if a long-lost sibling had returned. There was nothing as lonely as being an only child, deep in the countryside. Eloise was fretting in the corner, fingers agitated, tapping the outside of a book. This was to be her coming out year.
Anthony entered from the far side door, his feet skidding to a halt at the sight of you.
âYou arrivedâ Anthony said flatly, turning on the ball of his foot, and exiting as quickly as he had come in. Embarrassed, you frowned, smiling chastely praying no one would notice his strange behaviour. It had been a year since you had last seen each other.
âI apologise, he is so bizarre in the mornings latelyâ Violet squeezed your shoulders, leading you over to a table laden with treats. Sitting on the settee with Hyacinth and Eloise, eating small cakes and discussing the books being read amongst you were some of the precious things you missed about living in the city.
In an unsuspicious amount of time, you excused yourself from company to find the washroom. Anthony stood outside the drawing room, leaning against the wall, unblinking and mind drifting elsewhere. You ignored each other walking past, which felt a lot like tiny shards of glass embedding into your heart. Locking yourself in the washroom, trying desperately to keep tears at bay, you looked into the mirror and told yourself it did not matter. You were going to find love this year, somewhere else.Â
When you opened the door, Anthony had moved, he was nearly pressed against the door, waiting for you to come out. He stuffed himself into the washroom with you, closing the door as silently as he could.
âWhy are you here?â He asked. He looked different from a year ago, he had changed quite a lot more than you were expecting. He had shortened his hair and filled out into his body. His hands looked the same, the same ring on that damned finger, flexing in distress and awkward guilt.
âIt is the beginning of the social season. I am here to find a husband.â You stated plainly.
âA husband?â He scoffed, charming disdain painted across his face.
âYes, it is what young ladies do in polite society. Was that unclear?â You asked. Your lack of facial expression and tone seemed to startle him, he had no idea what you were thinking.
âWhy are you acting this way?â Anthony stuttered forward, getting uncomfortably close.
With the melancholic drop of your shoulders, and a heavy exhale, you pushed past Anthony and made your way back to the drawing room. It was so like him to put the narrative back on you. Anthony should have asked himself why he was acting this way â after all, it was he who decided not to court you. It was he who decided to kiss you beside the carriage that night. It was he who decided the two of you should not speak any longer. It was he who broke your heart.
The remainder of the evening was free of Anthony, filled with laughter at the dining room table over a delectable dinner. The Bridgertonâs sense of family was everything to you â even if Gregory and Hyacinth were bickering for most of the meal, it still felt as it was meant to. Violet showed you to the guest room, it had not changed much over the years, it smelled the very same.
âI am sorry Anthony could not join us for dinnerâ Violetâs voice echoed with somber searching. Perhaps she had heard the two of you in the washroom?
âDo not be,â You said quickly, âHis time is his own, he does not owe me anythingâ Violet bowed her head, words fighting against her lips. She instead pursed them into a smile and closed the door behind her. Those shards of glass moved again, every second in this house, nausea held you hostage, terrified of running into him in the halls.
Daphne was the only other person alive who knew what had happened between Anthony and yourself. She had been disappointed in him, angry with the way he had handled everything. While she promised there would never be a change to your friendship, it had never really been the same. You tossed and turned far longer than normal; your mind flooded with images of the past. Thrusting yourself out of bed, it was clear you were not going to be sleeping tonight, you decided that a distraction may be best. In your nightgown, candle in hand, you remembered your way to the study.
The study was clear of any inhabitants, it was tidy, and the few cases of books loomed high over you, reaching the ceiling. Nothing in the Bridgerton house seemed to change, except Anthony, and it was perpetually for the worse in your opinion. You selected a book randomly from the nearest shelf and perched yourself on the seat closest to the window, looking out over the square. Lounging sleepily, you read in the low candlelight, only disturbed by the creaking of the door, an unexpected sound, making you jolt.
âI knew youâd be in hereâ Anthony said softly, entering the room with caution as your emotionless face watched him. âYou were always in here when we were children. No one could ever find youâ His smile was humorless.
âYou didâ You waited before responding, wondering why he was here, speaking with you, âWhy are you here, right now, Anthony?â You demanded.
Anthony moved to the seat across from yours, sitting gingerly, holding eye contact in the hopes you would not tell him to leave. You allowed him to sit, his hands folded in front of him.
âI donât knowâ Anthony rubbed desperately at his forehead, âI just got up, and felt myself pulled here, some unknown force, dragging me to youâ Anthony admitted. You had always been attracted to each other, always gravitating towards one another.
âI did not choose to come here; my mother asked a favor of yours. I would never have chosen to be this close to you. You destroyed me, Anthonyâ Tears welled to your eyes, âWe cannot be near each other â you made that it very clear, you took what you wanted of me, and cast me asideâ Hands pressed down on your knees, you pushed off, making for the closest exit. Anthony dashed around in front of you, placing his body between you and the door for the second time today.
âGoodnight, Viscount Bridgertonâ You curtsied formally, hoping the rules of social engagement were enough for this man to understand the dangerous position he was putting both of you in, yet again.
Anthonyâs hand trembled, reaching out, taking yours into his. His fingers tangled between yours, his grip strengthening when he realized you were not pulling away. His thumb affectionately circling the skin on wrist, the sound of his swallowing resounding across the empty room, his anxious tongue flicking over his lips. If anything was clear, it was the internal battle that seemed to be always happening inside Anthonyâs mind.
His touch, the supreme legacy of your existence. His unsteady breath, captivating your common sense. The thrilling space between you slowly closing, heads bobbing forward as if intoxicated and unable to control oneself, meeting together in the middle in an exhilarating kiss, just like you had remembered it.
His lips were shamelessly enthusiastic, as if made for this very purpose, just for you. His forceful hands weaved into your loose hair, pulling you deeper into every kiss. You were overcome, that old bold, need for him to find its way out of the labyrinth you had designed for it. Anthonyâs fingers pressed to your hips, his teeth nipped eagerly at the skin on your neck, softs sighs of delight followed.
It was when his hand moved sensually to your breast that you broke free of the enchanting dance you had found yourself in so many times before with him. Your body did not reflect the same pleasures, you took his hands from your body and laid them at his sides, and stood tall and stepped back.
âI am here to secure a husband, for my futureâ Tears found their way back to you.
âY/nâŠâ Anthony shook his head, stepping forward, trying to hold onto you again.
âIf you cannot give me what I seek, please, stop hunting me down. I want a life with you, Anthony. I will love you until my dying breath⊠But you, you will never grow upâ You said finitely, again, pushing your way past him and fleeing back to your room.
~
Most of the next day was spent in tired indifference, you remained in your room, preparing for the first ball of the season. Tears had stained your pillow the remainder of the night, each knock at the door struck a chord of hope in your heart, wishing for Anthony.
Eloise and Violet helped you into your gown, the ladiesâ maids fixing your hair and face. Violet ran a motherly thumb under your puffy eye, her compassionate heart shining through her eyes and tender smile. You gave a little nod, knowing there was never anything you could hide from her â she knew everyone in the Bridgerton house better than she let on.
The Viscounts escorted Eloise into Lady Danburyâs estate, greeting the Queen and Lady Danbury ahead of you. Violet linked arms with you in solidarity, following Anthonys actions and proceeding into the ball.
âWho will you be accepting dances from this evening?â The Viscountess asked quietly.
âI am not restricting myself to names, I will dance with any eligible man who asksâ You answered politely.
Violet gave your forearm a squeeze, âThat is very sensibleâ She nodded, releasing you, sending you off into the lionâs den. You met up with Eloise, taking a short turn about the room to appear social, greeting the other young ladies who youâd met years previous. There were several older men who seemed to take an interest in you as you moved about the room with your friend. No one really stood out to you, no true love at first sight, much to your dismay.
Retiring to the wall with a glass of lemonade in hand, you watched the gorgeous young women excited to dance with suitors and recalled how that was never an experience you had.
Soon enough, one of the suitors who had shown interest in a season previous approached, positioning himself next to you. Lord Harlan Grahame was intelligent, considerate, and not entirely horrible to look at.
âLord Grahameâ You curtsied, a familiar smile finding its way back onto your face.
âMiss y/n, I do hope your mother and father are quite wellâ He remarked, having known them for many years now, he had noticed their absence.
âThey are in abroad, my father has business to conduct in Greece and my mother only saw fit to tend to him during this timeâ You explained, âI am being hosted by the Bridgerton family. How is your family?â You asked in politeness.
âFantastic, Mother has moved herself to the country and hopes to get yet another dog soonâ He laughed, clearly happy to be free of her in his home. Laughing along with him, you spied Anthony, discreetly looking on from across the ballroom. The conversation between yourself and Lord Grahame was easy and hardly uncomfortable. He was charismatic enough that you could see yourself becoming quite fond of each other in no time at all. He made small jokes at no oneâs expense, he offered refreshments frequently and complimented you in kindness. You could see and accept a perfectly happy future with the Lord.
Across the ballroom, sheer asperity brewed live in Anthonys eyes for all to see. He was known to have a temper amongst society. With a final twitch of his left eye, Anthonyâs feet picked up under him, carrying him in your direction. Violet watched on, fear and embarrassment ready and willing in her chest.
âI apologiseâ You mumbled preemptively to Lord Grahame as Anthony arrived to interrupt your conversation.
âMiss y/n, may I have this dance?â Anthonys eyes were terrifying, filled with rage and jealousy. You paused, contemplating antagonizing him, forcing his hand, backing him into a corner. But relinquished, excusing yourself from Lord Grahames company, taking Anthonyâs hand as he swept you off to the dancefloor.
You did not meet his eye, your nails dug into the skin on his hand in resentment. You said nothing to each other for the first several minutes of the dance.
âYou cannot marry himâ Anthony muttered in quiet, helpless indignation.
Giving him a great look of disbelief, âWho are you to tell me who I can marry? I do not answer to you, Viscountâ You growled into his ear as he pulled you in tighter.
Anthony finished the dance, bowing to you, holding onto one of your hands with unbelievable force. He walked swiftly from the dance floor, conspicuously pulling you along behind him, and into a room down the hall.
âYou cannot blame me for acting this way!â He yelled, âIf I have to see you speak to another man this season, if I have to witness another man watch as you walk by â You have driven me to the brink of insanityâ He heaved, frantic energy filling his body.
âWhat would you have me do? Spend my life in loneliness, a Spinster? Would that be convenient to you, Anthony?â You parried.
His hands ran through his hair stressfully, at a loss for words, unable to express himself in the way he wanted. His intention had not been to yell when he sequestered you away to this side room.
âI was fine! You left Mayfair, and I was well. Now, here you are â and God help me, I am intoxicated every second we are in the same room. Your presence is the most decadent drug, forcibly hypnotizing me. I am powerless to youâ Anthonys words were like honey, carried on the end of a bee sting.
âYou made your choice!â You yelled back at him, hoping the music was loud enough outside.
âI was young, y/n! I made the wrong choice!â He retorted, his words shaking, and unfiltered for the first time in a long time.
There was a second of unblinking silence between you before magnetic energy pulled you into each other, deranged nipping at each otherâs lips ensued. Hands grabbed and grasped at skin and hair, trying to force your beings into one person. There was a white-hot craze that seemed to come over the both of you, and you had felt it before, a few times.
Anthony sucked your bottom lip into his mouth, biting and kissing in a spontaneous fire.
âSomeone will hearâ You moaned into his ear, as his teeth moved their way down your neck. Anthony did not seem to care, his mouth on your chest, fondling and sucking on your breasts, still sitting pertly in your dress. He was simply uncontrollable, his behaviour now inherently superior compared to when he had been speaking.
Anthony maneuvered your body across the room, hands comfortably held in places of control, his left on your lower back, his right splayed across your throat like the prettiest necklace. You reached the door, his hands twisting your hips to face it. Your palms met the wood, bracing as Anthony bent you slightly, kicking your feet apart with his. Anthony hiked up your gown, undoing his pants in the same instant and buried himself inside of you.
You mouth gaped silently, aghast at the entire situation, but thanking God above for the opportunity.
âOh my god,â Anthony gnarled into your ear from behind, âJust like I remember itâ He moaned, sinking deeper and deeper it felt like. Every thrust led with intense and vicious primality, his hands wrapped around each of your upper arms, for leverage. He was right, it was just how you remembered â overwhelming, devastating, unforgettable. You had thought about your secret affair with Anthony every day since you had moved away. The pleasure Anthony elicited from you sent you into a familiar haze, deep and indefensible. Every movement, every sound from him made you feel greedy, always wanting just a little more.
The way he pounded into your smaller frame rattled the wooden door you were leaning on. âAnthony! They are going to hear!â You squealed in a whisper back to him.
âLet themâ He panted, âIf anyone asks, Iâll tell them Iâm fucking my future wifeâ Anthonyâs hand found its way into your hair, pulling your back sharply for a profound, wet kiss. Anthonys fingers sunk into the flesh of your hip, painfully pleasant as his nails clambered for an anchor. Your body arched back involuntarily, Anthony powering through fast, harsh thrusts as he found his inevitable end, placing sloppy kisses on your shoulder as he slowly finished moving inside of you.
You both leaned on the door in exhaustion, bodies heaving in unison. Anthony placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, stepping backwards and rebuttoning his breeches, fixing your dress behind you. You turned to face him slowly, knowing he could very well go back on every word he had said not moments before.
The softest smile enriched his face, his eyes lit in such a way that you had never seen them. His arm dashed out, pulling you into a grinning embrace, smooching dear kisses upon your lips.
âLoving you causes me delirium, y/nâ He nipped at your nose, your foreheads planted together, eyes closed in tranquility.
As you stood, the doorknob gently turned and Violet Bridgerton slid her head through the gap, assumingly checking on the both of you; you had been in here for a little while longer than societally acceptable for two young single people.
Her hand flew over her heart, âOh thank God!â She exclaimed, smiling ear to ear, a sense of pride glistened in her eyes.
âI cannot wait to write Daphneâ The viscountess cheered quietly, finding it hard to contain her excitement. âI knew that you would find each otherâ She chuffed, slipping out, closing the door. Your foreheads knocked together again, never having a minutes peace in such a large family â you stood there a moment longer, relishing such a long awaited and monumental confession of your love.
-------------------------------
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#anthony bridgerton#anthony bridgerton fanfiction#anthony bridgerton imagine#anthony bridgerton oneshot#anthony bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton x fem!reader#x reader#x fem!reader#bridgerton#bridgerton season 3#bridgerton smut#bridgerton netflix#bridgerton fanfiction#bridgerton imagine#anthony bridgerton smut#fanficiton
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Drunk in love
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x reader
Summary: When their wives get drunk, it is up to the Bridgerton brothers to take care of them ;)
Word count: 1.6k
Warnings: Kate and reader are drunk lol, just pure fluff
A/N:
this is just something silly I had in my mind lol enjoy
English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, recommendations, vents or questions are always welcome. I love talking to you guys about anything <3
Happy reading xxx
I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.
The Bridgerton household was steeped in the soft glow of the evening, and in the library, two brothers sat comfortably. Benedict Bridgerton leaned back in his chair, a small smile playing on his lips as he listened to Anthony's latest tirade about the complexities of running the family estate. The occasional crackle of the fire punctuated Anthonyâs words, creating a comforting backdrop to their conversation.
"It's all well and good for you, Benedict," Anthony was saying, "to prance about with your paints and canvases. But someone has to keep this family afloat."
Benedict chuckled, shaking his head. "You take life far too seriously, Anthony. One day, you'll realize there's more to it than ledgers and land."
Before Anthony could retort, a burst of laughter erupted from the drawing room, loud enough to make both men pause. They exchanged curious glances, and without a word, rose to investigate the source of the commotion.
As they approached the drawing room, the laughter grew louder and more infectious. Pushing the door open, they were met with a sight that brought simultaneous smiles and sighs to their faces. There, amidst a sea of discarded shawls and half-empty wine glasses, were their wives: Y/N and Kate, draped over the settee in fits of giggles.
"My love," Benedict began, striding over to Y/N, who looked up at him with sparkling, mischievous eyes.
"Ben!" Y/N exclaimed, throwing her arms around him. "Have you come to join our party?"
Anthony moved to Kate, who was similarly animated, her cheeks flushed with wine. "What on earth is going on here?" he asked, unable to keep a smile from his lips.
"We were just... having a bit of fun," Kate replied, her words slightly slurred. "Isn't that right, Y/N?"
Y/N nodded enthusiastically, her grip on Benedict tightening. "Yes! And you should have been here, Benedict. We were planning all sorts of adventures!"
Benedict exchanged a knowing look with Anthony. "It's getting late," he said gently. "Perhaps it's time to retire for the night before we wake the whole household."
"But weâre not tired!" Kate protested, though she yawned right after.
"Yes!" Y/N said eagerly. " We have work to do. We need to save the pirates!"
Benedict looked at Anthony with a confused look on his face, not understanding a word his wife is saying.
"The pirates? What pirates?" He asked his wife.
"Silly Benedict, the pirates that got captured of course! If we don't help them they will die or worse, catch a cold." Kate said to her brother-in-law while slurring the words, indicating that the night was surely over for the 2 ladies.
With a mixture of gentle coaxing and persuasive charm, Benedict and Anthony managed to guide their wives towards the staircase, their efforts accompanied by more giggles and shushing noises. Y/N and Kate were like a pair of mischievous schoolgirls, clutching each other for support as they swayed precariously.
"Shhh, we must be quiet!" Kate whispered loudly, her finger pressed to Y/N's lips.
"Yes, shhh!" Y/N echoed, though her laughter threatened to spill over.
Benedict exchanged an amused glance with Anthony. "Easier said than done," he muttered, placing a steadying hand on Y/N's waist.
The trek upstairs was a comedic parade of whispered laughter and shuffling feet. Y/N, in her drunken state, decided it was a brilliant idea to try walking on her tiptoes to avoid making noise. She stumbled, her giggles turning into a high-pitched squeal as Benedict caught her just in time.
"My hero," she declared, leaning heavily against him.
"Always," Benedict replied, his voice filled with warmth.
Meanwhile, Anthony had his hands full with Kate, who seemed determined to recount an elaborate and entirely fictitious tale about their latest adventure. "And then the pirate said, 'No, it's my treasure!' and I told him, 'You can have it, but only if you dance a jig!'"
Anthony shook his head, suppressing his laughter. "Let's get you to bed, love. You can tell me the rest of the story tomorrow."
As they finally reached the top of the stairs, the brothers carefully navigated their wives down the hall to their respective bedrooms. Y/N clung to Benedict, her fingers playing with the buttons of his shirt.
"Do you know what we should do, Ben?" she whispered, her voice conspiratorial. "We should have our own little party. Just you and me."
Benedict raised an eyebrow, amused. "Is that so?"
Y/N nodded, her movements exaggerated by the effects of the wine. "Yes. And I have... ideas." She bit her lip, trying to look sexy for her husband but failing miserably.
Benedict couldn't help but laugh softly at her earnest expression. "I'm sure you do, darling. But I think you might regret them in the morning."
She pouted, leaning in closer. "You're laughing at me," she accused, though her own lips twitched upwards.
"Never," Benedict said, kissing her forehead. "I just find you utterly adorable."
Y/Nâs pout deepened. "Iâm trying to seduce you, Benedict Bridgerton, and youâre laughing."
Benedict wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. "And I love you for it," he murmured. "But youâre far too drunk to remember this tomorrow."
Y/N huffed, but her eyelids were already drooping. "Fine. But you owe me, mister."
"Iâll gladly pay my dues," he promised, tucking her under the covers, making sure she was comfortable.
Once the bedroom doors softly clicked shut behind them, Benedict and Anthony exchanged amused glances, their expressions a mix of fond exasperation and lingering mirth.
Anthony let out a low chuckle, shaking his head slightly. "Well, that was certainly an eventful evening."
Benedict grinned, running a hand through his hair. "Indeed. I never knew Y/N had such a penchant for dramatic declarations."
"And Kate," Anthony added with a raised eyebrow, "tyring to save pirates? I wonder where she comes up with these ideas."
Benedict chuckled softly, moving to pour himself a glass of water. "Itâs all part of their charm, I suppose. Makes life interesting."
Anthony nodded thoughtfully, leaning against the dresser. "Indeed it does. They certainly keep us on our toes."
Silence settled between them for a moment, the sounds of the quiet house filling the space. Benedict took a sip of water, his eyes twinkling as he glanced at Anthony. "At least they provided us with some entertainment."
Anthony grinned, raising his glass in a mock toast. "To our adventurous wives and the mornings after."
Benedict laughed, clinking his glass against Anthony's. "May we always be prepared for their antics."
The next morning, the dining room was a scene of quiet activity as the Bridgerton family gathered for breakfast. Sunlight streamed through the large windows, casting a warm glow over the table laden with a variety of morning fare. Benedict and Anthony were already seated, exchanging knowing glances as they sipped their coffee.
"Good morning," Anthony greeted with a wry smile, his voice a bit too cheerful as Kate and Y/N finally made their way downstairs. The two women looked thoroughly sheepish, their faces pale and their movements slow, battling clear signs of a hangover.
Kate, with a hand on her throbbing head, groaned softly as she took her seat. "Please. Not so loud, Anthony," she muttered, reaching for a slice of toast but ultimately settling for a glass of water.
Y/N, trailing slightly behind, sat down next to Benedict, doing her best to avoid his amused gaze. "Good morning," she mumbled, her voice hoarse, reaching for a cup of tea as if it were a lifeline.
Benedict leaned over, a smirk playing on his lips as he whispered in her ear, "Howâs your head, my love?"
She shot him a sideways glance, her cheeks coloring. "Letâs not talk about it," she replied, taking a tentative sip of her tea.
"But you were quite the charming seductress last night," Benedict teased gently, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
Y/N buried her face in her hands, groaning softly. "Iâm never drinking that much again."
At the other end of the table, Kate was having a similar conversation with Anthony. "Honestly, I can't remember the last time I felt this awful," she confessed, gingerly rubbing her temples.
Anthony chuckled, passing her a plate of fruit. "Perhaps next time youâll heed my warnings about overindulgence."
Kate shot him a baleful look, but there was a hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth. "Donât be smug, Anthony. Itâs not becoming."
"Who, me? Never," Anthony replied with a wink, earning a soft laugh from Kate despite her discomfort.
As the morning continued, the initial awkwardness began to fade, replaced by the comforting normalcy of family life. Eloise and Colin entered the room, their curiosity piqued by the unusual quietness of their typically lively sisters-in-law.
"Good morning," Eloise said brightly, her keen eyes darting between Kate and Y/N. "You two look like youâve been through the wars."
"Something like that," Y/N muttered, managing a small, embarrassed smile.
Colin, always one for humor, grinned broadly. "Did we miss an adventure last night?"
"Letâs just say it was a night to remember," Benedict replied, his eyes meeting Y/Nâs with a tender affection that spoke volumes.
Eloise raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Do tell."
"Another time, perhaps," Y/N said quickly, the color rising in her cheeks again.
As the conversation flowed around the table, the bonds of love and laughter only grew stronger. Despite their mortification, Y/N and Kate couldnât help but feel a deep sense of gratitude for their husbandsâ gentle teasing and unwavering support.
"Do you remember anything from last night?" Benedict asked Y/N, his tone light but with a hint of curiosity.
Y/N took a deep breath, trying to piece together the fragmented memories. "Bits and pieces," she admitted. "I remember laughing a lot. And I think I tried to..." She trailed off, her cheeks flushing.
Benedict chuckled, reaching out to squeeze her hand. "You were very determined to have a private party," he said, his eyes twinkling. "It was quite the spectacle."
Y/N groaned, covering her face with her hands. "Iâm so embarrassed."
"Don't be," Benedict said softly, leaning closer. "I love seeing every side of you, even the tipsy, adventurous one."
At the other end of the table, Kate was facing a similar interrogation. "So, what exactly were you and Y/N plotting in the drawing room?" Anthony asked, a mischievous grin playing on his lips.
Kate looked mortified, her face pale except for the flush of her cheeks. "I think we were planning an expedition to find some pirate treasure," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Or something equally ridiculous."
Anthony laughed, the sound rich and warm. "You certainly had quite the adventure in mind. Perhaps we should consider a career change?"
"Very funny," Kate muttered, though she couldnât help but smile at his good-natured teasing.
The rest of the family, picking up on the mood, joined in the light-hearted banter. Colin leaned back in his chair, shaking his head in mock disapproval. "It seems our sisters-in-law have a penchant for late-night escapades. We'll have to keep an eye on them."
Eloise, never one to miss a chance to tease, added, "I think itâs wonderful. We could use more excitement around here. Perhaps next time, I'll join in the fun."
"Absolutely not," Anthony interjected firmly, though his smile betrayed his true feelings. "Two tipsy adventurers are quite enough."
Amidst the laughter and teasing, the lingering embarrassment began to fade. Y/N and Kate, though still feeling the effects of their overindulgence, found themselves relaxing, their initial mortification replaced by a growing sense of comfort. The warmth and acceptance from their family wrapped around them like a cozy blanket, reinforcing the love that bound them all together.
#benedict x reader#benedict bridgerton#benedict bridgerton imagine#bridgerton family#benedict bridgerton x fem!reader#benedict bridgerton x reader#benedict bridgerton fanfiction#bridgerton season 3#anthony bridgerton#eloise bridgerton#colin bridgerton#kate sharma#anthony x kate
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cherry thrill | lights
9.2k / pairing: daddy dom tattoo artist!joel miller x sub virgin f!reader
series masterlist | main masterlist | notifications blog | ko-fi chapter summary: your tattoo artist, joel miller, takes your virginity. chapter warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, implied age gap, swearing, virginity loss, dom&sub dynamics (/not lg), size kink, praise kink, degradation kink, daddy kink, innocence kink, corruption kink, swearing, dirty talk, pet names (princess, bunny, baby girl, sweetheart, etc.), oral (m&f receiving), fingering, protected p in v, joel talks you through it, protective!joel, slight pov switching, reader is described as having no tattoos or piercings, as well as hair, but otherwise no physical description, no use of y/n series summary: Trust and devotion. Ink meets innocence. Your tattoo artist, Joel Miller, shows you what it really means to give up control. Reeling from the loss of your job, youâre running out of options, until a passing comment from Joel and a video camera give you just the right idea. A/N:Â this was supposed to be a one shot but just like everything else I try to write, I expand on the characters too much for it not to become a series. also, thank you for 2,000 followers, I promise to do something soon to show my appreciation <3 I'm bad at giving thanks and receiving attention so anyway - dividers by @firefly-graphics (thank you, daisy!)
During your first consultation, there was something in the air.Â
Glances that lasted a few seconds too long, a charged energy replicating that of two strong magnets. You stand frozen in a dark office down the hall from the shopâs main entrance. The walls are painted black. A gallery wall displays different art and posters in gold frames. Thereâs a large red neon sign with your tattoo artistâs initials, J.M.Â
Joel Miller.Â
You sit opposite of him, leg anxiously bouncing and nails subconsciously piercing the chairâs leather arms as he listens silently to your request before his mind starts to work. It doesnât take much time to draw up an example or two with your guided tweaks and fixes.Â
Other than the scribble of a graphite pencil, silence falls over you both. And observation takes over.Â
Joel surrounds himself with scattered drawings on loose paper that litter his desk. You watch the way his eyes screw inward to focus on the sketch he is drawing up. A small vein protrudes from his temple, his jaw shifts from side to side with tension.Â
Heâs a blunt sort of handsome. With harsh edges and lines, jaded and carved with precision like precious marble. It makes your pulse jump a bit in your neck and wrist.Â
You think your first tattoo should be something special, especially since youâve waited so long to pull the trigger. He was a bit intimidating like you imagined a tattoo artist to be, what with his brooding demeanor and how he looked you up and down upon taking one step inside his parlor.Â
Virgin.Â
Thatâs what he called your skin, untouched by any ink or piercings.Â
He didnât know that it described you down to your core. No one had popped your cherry, taken your virginity, made you theirs. Untouched.
Now, half an hour later and sitting anxiously in his back office, he finishes drawing up the sketch and asks about the precise placement you had in mind.Â
âI was thinking here,â you mindlessly point to a spot on your upper thigh. There was a level of secrecy to it, in case any future employers cared about that sort of shit.Â
You canât help the way your skin vibrates under his touch, when he aids you in taking off your bottoms and runs his calloused palms up the smooth skin of your thighs.Â
You shakily exhale as he warms you.Â
You definitely donât let yourself fantasize that heâs feeling you up, or even think about wanting him to explore every inch of your body. You know heâs just doing his job.Â
But the way his eyes flick up to yours when he feels the goosebumps he knows heâs created is otherworldly. Like he knows you want him to fuck you. The way your muscles twitch under the warmth of his palm, feeling pliant under his touch. Fuck.Â
His eyes gleam as his mouth forms into a barely-there smirk.Â
There was no point in playing coy. Your body changed at the contact and Joel knew it.Â
It was damn near degrading the way he let you simmer. It set a light inside of you no one had before. So thatâs when you knew youâd let him, Joel Miller, take your virginity.Â
It would be no easy task. You didnât know how to pursue him, or anyone for that matter. Maybe if you did, you wouldnât have said virginity.Â
You try not to stare for too long, but even with his gruff demeanor and silence being second nature to him, he was handsome. A rugged sort of handsome with different facial piercings.Â
A septum in his nose highlighted its aquiline structure. And a small hoop in his right eyebrow, with greys tickling through like pretty streaks in the hair. It made him look deliciously too old for you. Perhaps thatâs what you enjoyed most, though. He was no amateur.Â
The moment his fingers dipped into your flesh to work on your tattoo's placement, you knew he felt it, too. Supple under his touch. Squishy. Something he could sink his teeth into. Something that obeyed.Â
âYou prepared for the pain, sweetheart?â
His southern drawl is sweet like honey, deep and husky nonetheless.Â
âI think so.âÂ
Your response is meek. Itâs your wavering nerves from having him so close and unsure what the feeling of being tattooed will be like. Joel looks for certainty instead. He insists on it.Â
âNeed ya tâtell me. Not that you think, that you know.â
âIâm sorry. I know so.â
Joel squeezes the back of your thigh fondly, a proud little smile twitching at the edges of his mouth. âGood girl.â
The praise alone was enough to make your thighs sticky with arousal. Joel sent you home that day with an ache between your legs that your fingers had to fix. And you thought about him the entire time.Â
How his cold tongue piercing would feel against the warmth of your clit. Holding you with his strong, protective arms swirled with black ink. How his staggering dark eyes would look into yours as he fucks you.Â
But thinking about him wasnât enough.Â
You tried to string out the process, anything you could do to fix more time with him. Anything to get his tough palms on your skin.Â
You fiddled with different placements, opting to show a little skin as you rid yourself of your top and pointed to your ribs during your next appointment.Â
A breath hitches in your throat as he eyes your bra's innocent pink color. Lacy and pretty. Delicate. He clears his throat and runs his fingers along your side, evidence of his touch causing an effect on you displayed with more goosebumps. Your body could simply not hide the attraction you felt towards him.Â
âWould hurt. A lot. The ribs move every time you breathe, which makes the tattooing process more painful.â Joel gently cups your side with his large palm and squeezes your ribs, holding you in place as you shakily breathe with the hold he has on you. âCanât tell ya where to place it, can only advise. Just donât want such a pretty girl to shed any tears.âÂ
Thatâs when you knew you could trust him. That even a man as hardened as himself could treat you with such care.Â
He excuses himself for a moment, opting for more transfer paper and leaving you topless in his private office.Â
Your ears were ringing, you could hear the quickening beat of your heart. You slowly inch off the portable tattoo table, glancing around Joelâs dark academia-style office.Â
Heâs an enigma, you think, the more you look at his surroundings. Quiet but dark, you knew he was concealing a hidden desire. You hope to unlock it. That heâll trust you enough just as you trust him.Â
Articles of clothing start to drop to the floor, one by one. You knew youâd be ambushing him; you didnât want to scare Joel. So you left yourself in your soft pink-colored bra and panty set. You thought it was classy and cute. Not too forward, but sweet. Definitely planned out, you hope he doesnât notice.Â
All your confidence quickly disappears as soon as he comes back in through the door. You could feel your heart slowly sink to your stomach, your lips parting to come up with some sort of reasoning.Â
âI-Iâm sorry,â is all you can think to say. Joel is stilled at the entrance of his office, door still ajar as he blankly stares at the delicate angel standing in the middle of his office.Â
He clears his throat and finally closes the door, leaving the two of you in silence. You canât read his expression.Â
âWhat do ya think youâre doinâ?â He asks, sweet southern drawl dripping with tension as his heavy boots slowly make their way closer to you.Â
You can only shake your head, unsteady hands concealing as much of your body as possible. You decide to face the mirror, keeping your back to him.Â
âIâm sorry, Mr. Miller, I was just-â Lie. âI was just looking at your full-length mirror to see other placement ideas.âÂ
Joel merely shakes his head, a knowing look in his eyes. âI can tell when youâre lyinâ tâme, baby girl. You wanna try tellinâ me the truth now?â
His tone only makes the ache in your core grow with desire as your pulse quickens under his eyeline.Â
You feel embarrassed, heat coursing through your body and making you tingle as his stare lingers selfishly, basking in the glory of your figure. You watch with want in the reflection as his eyes stare at the curves of your hips and your ass. A handful, he probably thinks.Â
âCome on, sweetheart,â he coaxes, moving closer and enveloping you in his musky pine and whiskey scent. Itâs almost knowing what he says next. âTell me what yâwant.âÂ
You swallow the lump protruding in your throat before you decide to be honest with him. Like you said, you could trust him. You play with your fingers and pick at the skin by your nails.
âI want you.â You say barely above a whisper.Â
Joel simply shakes his head, takes another impossible step closer, and cranes his head down to hear you better. His lips and coarse beard hairs tickle at the shell of your ear.Â
Your eyes close shyly as he speaks again amid your silence.Â
âSay it again, baby. Canât hear ya.â His toned front meets your back, forcing a whimper past your lips.Â
You work up the nerve to take a glance at the two figures in the gold-framed mirror. Perfect opposites. Young, beautiful, a little inexperienced. Older, handsome, sure as hell looks like he knows what heâs doing.Â
His height looms over you. His eyes are an unknown shade of obsidian and heâs radiating a comforting warmth. Your hand reaches for his, only able to look him in the eyes through the glass as you guide his hand to your hip.Â
Your thumb rolls across the faded tattoo on the backside of his hand. There used to be a cross there, but it looks to be covered up by some sort of python now. With a shaky sigh, you try again. âI want you, Mr. Miller. I want you to take my virginity.âÂ
Youâve prepared yourself to hear his laughter, a snickering, degrading comment of disbelief. You felt ready to experience shame. But you were wrong.Â
Joel places his pointer finger under your chin, using his other hand to guide you in his hold to turn and face him. His thumb grazes over your lower lip as he guides your head to tilt up and look at him properly. Your soft eyes meet his lust-driven ones and your heart surges at the sight.Â
Youâve never seen a man so hungry.Â
âYou want me to take your virginity, little bunny?â He hums seductively. Suddenly, you donât feel so doomed. Itâs placed with a little bit of eagerness now. You wanted your spoils.Â
âYes. Want you to do whatever you desire with me, Iâll do anything you want.â You sound like a devoted cult member, but the energy you feel is undeniable. Youâre sure youâve soaked through your panties at this point.Â
Slowly but surely, Joel begins to nod. Heâs mulled it over and heâs made up his mind.Â
âWhatever I desire, huh?â He tuts almost degradingly. Your nod of enthusiasm makes his blood rush.Â
He hesitates, untrusting of his own words.Â
âWant you to call me Daddy,â He starts haphazardly, gauging your reaction. âThink you can do that, sweet girl?â
Your wide eyes soften, a notch of confusion knotting your eyebrows.Â
âYou- what?âÂ
âWant you to call me daddy. Want you to be a good little girl for me and hop up on that desk. Can ya do that for me, princess?â His chin juts up and signals toward his office desk.Â
The swirling in your stomach just wonât stop.Â
âGo on now.â His orotund voice projects his instructions. You back up a few paces until you feel the cool metal of his desk hit your backside, slowly moving to sit on it with hidden excitement and a shiver up your spine.Â
You do want to be good, if thereâs anything you want in this world right now, itâs to play along and be good for him. Knowing he would take care of you was making you leak.Â
His fingertips delicately touch your skin, starting at your wrists and moving upwards to the straps on your bra. Heâs intimidating to look at, so you fixate on something behind him. But it doesnât help when he clouds your vision. Even his aroma, from the smoke of his cigarettes to the musky spruce cologne, was putting you in a tailspin.Â
You donât anticipate the way your body moves for him. His hands skim to the back of your bra, and your spine straightens. It makes the right side of his mouth twitch up into a smirk.Â
âNervous?â He belittles.
Your long lashes innocently flutter, you think you might be doing it on purpose. You sort of like playing along.Â
âA little⊠Daddy.â You test cautiously, the word tangling on your tongue. But itâs unforgettable the way his eyes light up at the name. You find yourself already willing to do whatever it takes to recreate that signature look of his.Â
Joel hums appreciatively, thumb making minuscule circles over your chin. âIâll take care of ya. Ya know that. Or else you wouldnât have chosen me.â
All you can do is nod. Because he knows that your selection process was a real thing. You had danced around it once during your first consultation when he asked if you had a boyfriend. All you could feel was heat rising to the back of your neck, shy eyes evading his warm brown orbs.Â
âNo, definitely not.âÂ
âWhatâdâya mean definitely not? Youâre a pretty girl.â Â
You shrug in a noncommittal way. âIâve never had to really worry about stuff like⊠boyfriends. Or girlfriends. Any of that sort of stuff.âÂ
His eyes flicked up to yours in an instant, a mutual understanding of your underlying words. âI see. I understand, angel.âÂ
Joel works your bra off with one hand, you gasp as you feel the material loosen around your body. His opposite hand taps at the top of your thigh. Youâre all too aware you are eagerly sitting half-naked on his desk.Â
âOpen.â He directs, voice laced with smoke.Â
You nip at your lower lip and slowly inch your clamped-shut thighs open for him. He instantly makes eye contact with the wet, dark little circle thatâs ruining the pristine innocence of your panties.Â
He decides not to make fun of it, but itâs truly a compliment. Your adoration for him. âThis all for me, angel?â
You work up a few quick nods. Now that he was so close, you wanted him to hurry the hell up.
âYes.â
âYes, what?âÂ
You feel heat tingle at the sides of your neck. This would be your first time really talking like this with someone. He made it feel safe to talk so dirty. To try, to learn.Â
âYes, daddy.â
You canât deny how proud you feel to be the reason a certain warmth brightens in his eyes and on his smirk. You did that, you pleased him. Little did you know how heâd thank you for it.Â
âYou said youâre a virgin? Hard to believe.â
A shaky sigh leaves your parted lips as his warm palms slowly pull your bra down, revealing your breasts to him. âJust never found anyone I really trusted or liked enough.âÂ
He mutters something quiet in understanding, all too distracted by how damn pretty you look.Â
Joel is silently observing your body, he canât help but want to touch the delicate flower in front of him. A gasp leaves your parted lips as his calloused hands come up and cup your breasts. He starts to squeeze, and a happy little whimper leaves your mouth with a small smile.Â
âI like that.â You tell him, hoping it improves your chances that heâll do it again. Which he does.Â
âGood.â He compliments, pinching your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, turning them into peaks that send electricity down your spine.Â
A sweet and experimental moan leaves your lips. Joel stands between your parted legs and you feel his erection for the first time against your skin. You can tell by the shape protruding through his pants that heâs a large man, already thick and swollen for your taking.Â
âNo oneâs ever been inside of you?â He damn near growls, raising an eyebrow after the beat he offers you to answer. Â
You shake your head again. âIâve tried my fingers, but Iâm sure itâs not the same.âÂ
A scoffy little breath echoes out of his nose. âNo, not quite. Lay back for me, bunny.â His hands release your breasts, pebbled nipples left abandoned as you slowly move down onto your elbows and then onto your back.Â
There was a sudden peak of anxiety, not being able to fully see him. But perhaps this was the point, to fully surrender yourself under his touch. To trust him.Â
His rough hands grip the sides of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs. He gets about halfway down your thighs before you quickly sit up on your elbows again.Â
âJoel?â Your voice anxiously chirps.Â
He stops, eyes flicking up to you from your cunt still concealed by your sticky thighs.Â
âWe can stop,â He says before you can explain. âSâokay if youâre not ready.â
âNo, no, thatâs not it, God, thatâs not it,â You rid his worries, feeling your chest quickly rise and fall under his all of a sudden protective gaze.Â
âI uh-... I know you donât owe me this, weâre not together, but⊠can you talk me through what youâre doing? I want to learn, and I can tell youâre experienced, I know itâs a lot to ask but-â
âSânot too much to ask.â He quickly intervenes, gently taking your hands and guiding you to sit up fully once more. Your soft eyes graze over all the layers heâs still wearing, and suddenly youâre reminded how naked you are.Â
âUse your voice, sweet girl. Can tell you wanna say somethinâ. This is your time.âÂ
The sentiment means a lot. It is your time, your first time, and just because youâre an adult doesnât mean it should be any less special. So you decide to make it your time, the way you want it.Â
âCan you take your clothes off too? And is the door locked?â You trail off upon seeing his amused smirk.Â
âGo on.â He nods again, letting you list your needs and wants.Â
âAnd can you kiss me, please, Daddy?â You ask more softly than the rest of your demands. You know that kissing is romantic, but you think it might help settle you. Pull you back from drifting away, keep you here with him. Â
He watches you for a moment, a bemused grin on his lips before he gently cradles your face. âThe doorâs locked. Iâll take my clothes off. And Iâll kiss you as many times as you like as long as you keep askinâ that nice.âÂ
For the first time during your interaction, your face lights up with a smile. Itâs small, itâs thankful, but itâs there. There was an undeniable connection you shared with Joel, it made you feel safe under his curious eyes.Â
With his large hands cupping either side of your jaw, he leans down while simultaneously guiding your chin up as your lips meet. Itâs gentle at first, soft. His mouth tastes like a cigarette, itâs oddly intoxicating and you find yourself wanting more.
You know how to make out at the very least. So when you gently bite down and tug on Joelâs lower lip, both of your eyes open as a throaty little groan escapes him.Â
He kisses you a little harder this time, hands falling to your hips as he pulls you closer so your fronts align. The force makes your lips part and Joel takes the opportunity to let his tongue invade your mouth. He moves fluently to explore, both of you falling into a sweet lull as your bodies meld into one.Â
Inadvertently, he hooks his pointer finger into your panties halfway down your thighs and finishes pulling them to your ankles. They land somewhere on the floor in a pile of your other clothes.Â
Unbeknownst to you until he took his hands off your body to pluck open his belt do you realize how you were on fire for him.Â
You wonder while he pushes down his trousers and tugs off his shirt if heâs ever slept with a virgin before. If youâd be his version of a first time just like heâd be yours. No, not his first ever, you werenât that foolish. But maybe you could teach him a thing or two as well.Â
Thereâs no way to mask your surprise when he pushes down his boxer briefs, the dark band revealing all that was underneath. His half-hard cock raises towards his stomach, rosiness fluttering at his tip. You were pleasantly surprised to find that it was a little hooked, deliciously curving upwards.Â
With a new sense of confidence, your hand reaches forward and you start to shift your hand up and down his length. Joelâs quiet grunt shatters your thoughts. He gently cups the side of your neck and twirls a piece of hair around his finger.Â
Joel takes your hand off his cock and you worry youâve done something wrong already. He holds it palm-side up and nods encouragingly. âSpit on your hand, baby.â
He nods after you look up at him with shy, blown-out eyes. But you obey.Â
You spit into your hand and let him guide your hand back around his member. That seems a lot better. He glistens with your spit and you have the urge to keep shocking him with your confidence.
You lean forward and directly spit onto his tip, looking up to see his approving little smirk.Â
âFuck- Thatâs- mmm, thatâs good, angel,â he sighs with a certain happiness, loving the feeling of getting his cock taken care of. âFeels real good.âÂ
The praise sets off a million pistons in your brain, feeling yourself scrabble off the desk, dropping to your knees as you continue to pump him.Â
Heâs heavy in your hand, and you gently lean forward to give sweet kisses to the tip. You swallow the lump in your throat before parting your lips, taking the head of his cock into your mouth. Heâs salty, musky, but not dirty. In fact, he was rather well-kempt in his nether regions.Â
You force yourself deeper and Joel already has his hands in your hair to pause you.Â
âWoah, slow your roll, pretty girl.â He says with shortened breaths. Heat floods your body, you hate being so new to this.Â
Joel continues to stroke your hair back, gently gliding a thumb up your cheekbone before he cradles one side of your face. âI see you gettinâ all shy, I know this is your first time, but Iâll teach you the basics. And no oneâs perfect on their first try, okay? So just get that thought outta your head now.â
Your chest swells at his eagerness to relax you, so you nod gently and lean in to kiss the base of his stomach in appreciation. The right side of his mouth tilts up as he swipes his thumb across your plump bottom lip, a silent thank you for the kiss.Â
âYouâre a real good girl, you know that?â A bigger smile breaks across your lips and you eagerly tug on his cock with eagerness. Joel sighs, already in defeat at how youâre willing to get it right for him, to learn, to listen. To obey.Â
âYouâre gonna wanna relax your jaw,â his fingers guide you, your lips parting and letting your jaw drop lower, lower, lower for him. âAnd the whole part is to suck, not just put your mouth on it, okay, peaches? So hollow your cheeks, no teeth, and only go as far as you feel comfortable.âÂ
You shake off your nerves and clear your throat, feeling your mouth fill with spit intended for him. You place your hands on the back of his thighs, feeling the dark hairs under the pads of your fingers.Â
Slowly, you wrap your mouth around his tip once more. You swirl your tongue around him, adoring the way he hisses when you glide your tongue across the slit leaking a salty substance.Â
Over the introduction, you try to take him down your throat properly. And heâs a mouthful, literally. Heâs a lot. But you try to just enjoy that thereâs no real pressure.Â
A lot of saliva starts to build in your mouth, and you swallow it around him. Youâre awestruck when he lets out a low moan, strong hands weaving through your hair and lightly tugging. Your eyes flutter up to him through your lashes, and heâs looking at you so deliciously.Â
You can tell he wants to fuck your mouth, holding his hips back from really letting you have it. And maybe he could do that to you someday, but for now, today was slow. And Joel knew that too.Â
Joel gently tucks your hair back, your lips suctioning around his length before he drags you back towards him, indicating for you to start moving, to bob your head.Â
It takes a few tries, but you really feel yourself going further down his cock. You breathe through your nose, but itâs hard when youâre trying not to gag around him. Finally, after little to no error, you slip up. His tip unexpectedly hits the back of your throat and you gag around him. Joel must feel your whole body tense with anxiety because heâs quick to gently hush and console you. Your eyes well up with tears, but your first instinct is to keep him inside your mouth and swallow around him.Â
A long, low groan leaves Joelâs mouth, a compliment to your first big challenge.Â
âHoly fuck,â he pants, weaving his fingers into your hair and fisting eagerly to keep himself grounded. âYouâre doinâ so fuckinâ well, princess, you have no idea, fuck,â he grins. âTry using your hands on what you canât take, come on, baby.âÂ
You can feel yourself physically gush at his compliments, your stomach swirling with a newfound desperation. To please.Â
With new instructions, you work your hand at his base and pump up and down with the rhythm of your mouth. You worked on gently squeezing and releasing your hand, making Joel go slack-jawed as a husky groan leaves the back of his throat. Sucking and licking and bobbing your head in earnest, heâs already twitching in your mouth.Â
âYouâve done this before baby,â his voice drips with a smirk, pulling yourself off for some deep breaths and a few desperate swallows.Â
âHavenât, promise, Joel,â You coo with a proud little smile, your voice thick and wrecked as you continue to pump his cock in the absence of your mouth.Â
Joel lets your hair go and guides your hand off his cock before helping you up from the floor.Â
Your face is obviously written with disappointment, you could have continued. You sort of wanted to continue despite the ache hanging around in your jaw.Â
âYou were gonna make me come, donât wanna come yet, angel,â Joel pants weakly, ducking down and connecting your lips. Youâre a little taken aback. Not by the kiss, but by the fact you already had him nearly ready to finish.Â
âReally?â You murmur hopefully against his mouth, wishing he wasnât just saying it to compliment you.Â
The way that his features started to twitch and his tummy and chest fluttered with his jagged breathing, it would have been quite a sight to see him finish. Maybe he would have even done it right on your tongue. The thought alone gives you goosebumps.Â
Your insides swirl as he licks inside of your mouth and gently runs his tongue along your bottom lip, moving you back towards his desk. You hop up without his instruction, feeling him smirk against your pouted mouth.Â
âNow youâre gettinâ a hang of things.â He murmurs into your mouth, carrying on where he had left off before, sinking down to his own knees at the edge of the desk and positioning your feet to rest up on the edge. He seems to stare at the glistening arousal youâve been creating for the last hour straight.Â
That nervous feeling settles in your stomach, completely bare and open for him. A shocked gasp leaves your mouth, not prepared for him already to be diving into your pussy.Â
The breadth of his tongue slowly swipes up the center of your core, purposely flicking off of your clit and making you yelp at the contact. His cold tongue piercing against your sensitive bundle made a shiver shoot up your spine.Â
He gently smirks as he places a sweet kiss on the inside of your thigh. âYouâre jumpy, kitten. Take a breath. Wanna make you feel real good.âÂ
You let out a shaky sigh and move off your elbows, back flat on his desk as your eyes slowly drift close. Then, as he starts to truly taste you, learning you and what you like, itâs unexpected how much you enjoy it. It never really dawned on you that some people truly enjoy eating pussy, but Joel Miller sure does.Â
Your broken little whimpers and strung-out moans turn into writhing on his desk under him. He was such an expert, meticulously swirling his tongue around you and suckling your clit into his mouth.Â
It didnât take long for your fingers to wind up into his hair as his shoulders lay bracketed between your thighs. It was heavy, it was stomach-twisting, in fact, it was rolling through you like a storm. The it in question was your first oral orgasm.Â
âJ-Joel,â you gasp, your jaw dropping down as he slowly prods the tip of his finger at your entrance.Â
âNeed to get you ready for my cock, sweet girl, keep focusing on how good you feel,â he encourages. Your face pinches as his finger slowly sinks into your entrance, but you realize how grateful you are for all the extra spit and arousal Joel has provided.Â
It doesnât necessarily hurt, itâs a weird ache at first. But then his finger starts to slowly pump inside of you, and itâs a new craving. Especially with the way his tongue moves around your clit, the pistons in his brain firing all to figure out what you like.Â
Do you like when he flicks your clit with his cold metal piercing?
âOhmygod-â you gasp.Â
Do you like when he swirls his naughty tongue around you in tight figure eights?Â
âJoel, please,â you say, needing more.Â
Did you like it most when he suckles around your sweet bud?
âJoel!â You cry out, tugging tighter at his hair, not sure if you want to tug him closer for more or push him away because it feels too good.Â
âO-Oh, oh my god.â Lying still was a foreign thing to you now, all you could do was wiggle and grip your fingers into his hair, tugging harshly as he grunted against your core in enjoyment.Â
He actually likes pleasing you, he likes tasting you! Itâs a compliment without words as your eyes dip close and your head digs back into the desk.
Suddenly, your stomach starts to drop like youâre on a rollercoaster. Youâre not unfamiliar with the feeling of an orgasm, but this, oral, it hits differently.Â
âFuck,â you curse unexpectedly, making Joel cock up an eyebrow as he glances up at you. All you can do is watch as his mouth suckles harder around you, his finger pumping faster and adding a second.Â
Because if thereâs anyone in this world that can break you out of your shell, Joel wants it to be him.Â
Now youâre really aching for him, wishing that it was his cock slotted between your walls, pushing you towards euphoria.Â
âKnow you wanna come for me angel,â his fingers quirk upwards in a come here motion, and a long, strung-out moan of his name leaves your lips.
God forbid any of the shopâs workers or clients hear you, but you canât think of a singular reason to care right now.Â
Your walls flex and squeeze around Joelâs two fingers, truly feeling the stretch as you come around his digits. It leaves you a whimpering mess on his desk, hot pants leaving your pretty lips.Â
Joel is in heaven, lapping you up and moaning against your core as your clit starts to twitch with the overstimulation. His hands squeeze at the flesh of your thighs before he sits up and kisses up your body, his own lips meeting yours. Heâs hungry, and youâre still bouncing back. But you want it so bad, and youâre so close to finally having it.Â
âJoel, Iâm ready.â You coo, wrapping your arms around his neck.Â
He breathily laughs and pecks your lips once more, tasting your own arousal and making you feel warm inside.Â
âDesperate for my cock, ainât that right, pretty girl?âÂ
God, he was such a menace with his mouth. Your adorably shy grin is all the answer he needs. But you give him one anyway, because he likes when you talk like that with him.Â
âYes, daddy, I just wanna feel it already,â you try out, Joelâs lust-filled eyes meeting yours as white-hot heat spills into your stomach.Â
âIâll give it to ya, baby girl. Wanna give that tight little virgin pussy my cock, donât want anyone else to have ya. Mine.â Joel huskily grunts, a choked moan leaving your lips.Â
Joel reaches past your head and to the drawer on the other side of the desk. He jimmies it open and searches his hand around blindly. He flips open his wallet and pulls a small square foil package from the slot.Â
Oh, duh, a condom. In all your excitement, you sort of forgot to be safe. But youâre glad he was prepared.Â
You watch with adoration on your features as Joel lifts the condom to his lips, pearly teeth ripping the foil off but not hurting the condom. His other hand rests sweetly on your hip, thumb running soothing circles into your pretty skin.Â
Itâs a soothing feeling, one that he doesnât have to do, but he does because heâs being considerate and maybe even a little protective. You gently lay your hand on his forearm, fingers tracing fresh black ink and older green ink on his armâs sleeve.Â
A shaky sigh leaves your lips as he uses both hands to glide the condom down his shaft. Itâs nearly invisible, the way itâs so thin and tightly wrapped around his cock. Besides the band that rests at the very bottom of his shaft. He grumbles something incoherent, probably his annoyance with the fussing of the condom and how tight it probably felt around him. Â
You take in a shaky breath and nod at him once he comes to rejoin your centers.Â
âYouâre sure youâre ready for this? Donât wanna wait for someone yâlove? Or trust? Or just... Anybody but me?â Joelâs face is pinched with genuine concern.Â
You smile softly and gently cup his cheek. âI do trust you. It takes a lot of trust to allow someone to alter your body forever with a tattoo. So, youâre giving me a tattoo, and youâre taking my virginity. Youâre sort of doubling down for me right now, honestly.âÂ
Joel flashes a genuine little smile. Itâs the most youâve said consistently all day with him, even with a little drip of sarcasm and wit.Â
âOkay. But ya gotta say it.â He says more seriously.Â
âIâm ready, Daddy. Want you to make me feel good. I know you can.â You can already feel yourself picking up his dirty talk. It makes your smile twitch as you gently grip both of his forearms, his hands spreading your thighs open for him.Â
He enters the space, his heavy cock resting over your core and slowly slipping up and down your wet folds.Â
You let out an unexpected little scoff as he grinds himself down against you, your arousal soaking the condom. He holds himself at his base and taps his tip down against your already throbbing clit, making you hiss out a desperate whine.Â
âMânot usually this⊠gentle.â He admits through gritted teeth. Youâre sort of shocked by that. Sure, he has a rough and tough exterior, but heâs treated you with such delicacy that you assumed he was like this all the time.Â
âSo, what are you usually like?â You pose, your breath hitching in your throat as one of his hands abandons your thighs and guides his tip from your clit to your entrance, up and down, several times. Your thighs twitch impatiently. Your entrance squeezes around nothing.Â
âMâjust... not this gentle,â is all he can say without breaking into a bemused smile.Â
âYeah? Maybe you can show me next time what youâre really like.âÂ
Joel playfully scoffs as his face starts to pierce with concentration. âNot sure if you can handle it, kitten.âÂ
âIâm sure I-â your words are cut off by a loud gasp, your lips parting as his tip penetrates your walls. Youâre phased for a moment before you gulp and recollect yourself. You whimper, louder and louder as he pushes on, watching Joel move with such caution.Â
He really is holding back, you think. You wonder what heâs like when he can just fuck how he pleases.Â
âBaby,â Joelâs voice breaks your concentration. âBreathe.âÂ
A loud huff of air leaves your mouth that you hadnât even realized you were holding in. The ache in your hips and core only builds with tension as Joel pushes on, his length and girth surely parting your tight walls.Â
âSo fuckinâ- tight.â He says with gritted teeth, his fingers piercing into the delicate flesh of your outer thighs, making you whimper.Â
âJoel,â you quietly cry for him, tears threatening to spill at the pain. Itâs just- a lot. Itâs a lot for your first time, and maybe you wouldnât have signed up if you knew what he was packing, but in a weird way, you loved it. He felt made for you.Â
âMâhere, angel, look at me.â In all the excitement and overwhelming feelings of pain and pleasure, you hadnât even noticed you were clenching your eyes closed. You slowly peek them open, greeted by his heavenly features.Â
âThereâs my girl.â He compliments, warmth and sweetness shooting through your body.Â
âFuck,â you say, your voice a bit wet as Joel comes down closer to aid you. Heâs all the way in now, you can feel his balls flushed against your sopping wet cunt.Â
The arousal helps, the condom sort of doesnât but itâs fine, thatâs life, you think. Youâre torn between pain and pleasure. Honestly, you just feel so fucking full.Â
He tells you between breathy pants that he would have used lube if he had any, but he didnât, and heâs sorry, and his pretty voice starts to turn into static with how fucking good he feels inside of you.Â
âYouâre doing so good for me, angel,â he praises, sponging a few kisses along your cheeks and tasting your salty tears. You feel like some weak pathetic being under him. Heâs been sweet, but youâre sure heâs just treating you like he found a wounded animal.Â
âMove, Joel, pleaseâ you weakly demand, lassoing your arms around his neck and holding him close to you.Â
âNo.â He says through gritted teeth. âJust-â he pauses and takes a deep breath, knowing that youâre dealing with a million emotions right now as heâs trying to breathe around the death grip you have on his cock. âJust wait a minute, sweetheart, let yourself adjust.âÂ
A pouty, bratty sigh leaves your lips as you continue to blink away tears. You eventually nod and he only smiles adoringly as he returns to kiss at the tears.
Your senses are spiked. You can smell his cologne, feel each gristle of hair from his salt and pepper beard. Itâs erotic how much more you can feel while at the edge of your emotions.Â
One of your hands roams into his darling chocolate curls, instinctually going to gently scrape your nails delicately against his scalp. Youâre sweetly surprised to hear him mutter a sweet little moan just for you against the shell of your ear.Â
Your hands flutter across dark tattoos on his shoulders and arms, your blurry vision trying to make out the shapes as you trace a pretty angel on his upper bicep.Â
Joel Miller was inside of you. Joel Miller has taken your virginity. The hottest man youâve ever set your eyes on is fucking you at his place of work, on his desk. And you convinced him to.Â
Joel was right. The pain, ache, and burn slowly turned into a real yearning for him to move. It felt like what was right, a certain neediness to be filled and fucked. Â
âDaddy,â you whisper more sweetly this time, more to your character. âPlease fuck me, you feel good now, I can take it. Promise.âÂ
It takes him a moment to gather himself as well, smiling sweetly as he keeps his mouth by your breasts where he is sucking a gentle hickey into your soft skin. Color flushes to the area, feeling his teeth gently nibble on the spot before he finally lifts off.Â
Marking you, you think. It makes another gush of arousal flood your core, liquifying your spine as you become putty in his hands.Â
His mouth twitches in a small smile as he captures your lips. Unbeknownst to you, the sweet kiss was just a distraction.Â
Joel slowly began reeling his hips back which was a whole new sensation. His strangled moan harmonized with the gasp you let out into his mouth, moaning out the breath you were holding as he plunges himself fully back inside your warm cunt.Â
You whimpered weakly, needy and anxiously happy, you wanted more. More, more, more.Â
âOh- my god,â you whimper, feeling him start a steady rhythm inside of you. Your jaw slowly drops and your eyes flutter closed, feeling your tits start to lightly bounce every time his hips perfectly align with your own.Â
âSo goddamn tight, still,â he grunts each word, forehead against yours as he watches your face unfold with a million reactions.Â
Something primal switches in Joel, knowing heâs the first one to do this sort of stuff with you.Â
Itâs strangely possessive and arrogant, he knows it, but being the first man you trust to fuck you properly was feeding his ego. Youâre a beautiful young woman with big doe eyes who waltzed into his shop and insisted he rail you, take your sacred first, talk you through it, and carry you through this dark and fearful forest.Â
You trusted him. He wouldnât break that bond.Â
You came here wanting something, knowing how to get it. You came here asking, and Joel was open to teaching. The last thing he wanted was for some asshole to hurt you, something your sweet nature couldnât afford was poison.Â
Maybe he could teach you more, if you wanted. If he offered you an invitation to his world, would you take it? He only shared a slice of his lifestyle with you today, would the rest scare you, or entice you?Â
Joel canât help the way his hips buck faster at his thoughts, a little sob leaving your lips. Heâs absent, just for a moment, feeling your skin slap against his as he holds you down and fills you fully. His tip hits your cervix for the first time and heat floods your stomach as you cry out his name.Â
âShit,â he panics and quickly comes back to his senses, wide eyes meeting your bleary ones, âyou okay, angel? Mâsorryâ Joel whispers, returning to his original rhythm.Â
âYes-yes, fuck, please keep going, keep doing that, I canât believe how good it feels.âÂ
Joel weakly smirks, proud to see you taking him so well.
The desk squeaks and juts with each of his heavy thrusts, thatâs how you know itâs fucking good. You came here wanting to lose your virginity, but now that youâve unwound Joel Miller, you want him to fucking rail you.Â
Licking your lips, you lean up and pepper kisses up his wirey jawline, feeling the patch of hair that fades out and then back in again. Heâs so sweet right now, but you wonder what he was talking about before. What was he when he wasnât gentle? How good would rough feel? Would you like it? Maybe you could learn, explore, adventure. Surely Joel with his experience could be a guiding light.Â
You watch with glittery eyes as Joel pulls his head off yours and licks across the pads of his fingers.Â
âWhat are you- shit,â you whimper as his fingers start circling your clit, taking a moment to find your sweet little rhythm, one that somehow matches his hips. Now, your skin is slapping and itâs echoing around the room. Your moans are louder and uncontrollable, as are Joelâs. Your hips ache but you donât find the will to care, he feels like fucking heaven.Â
His cock is somehow inching deeper, as if your walls have decided to invite him in further, where he hits this perfect little spot inside of you that makes you squeak Joelâs name with robbed breaths.Â
Youâre not sure if you can hold on much longer, your stomach starts to swirl as all the knots inside your belly begin to untie themselves.Â
You brace Joel at his shoulders and look into his eyes as you moan his name. A certain hunger flickers behind his dark brown orbs. His jaw clicks and he starts fucking you in earnest, filling you up each time as his hips snap with vigor. He feels fucking amazing, piercing your walls and marking you as his.Â
âJoel-â
âSay what I wanna hear, baby,â he rasps. You quickly nod and gulp.Â
âDaddy, please, I-Iâm so close,â you moan sweetly as your head digs into the desk, jutting your chin up and arching your back. Joel takes full advantage of your breasts in his face, burying his nose in between them and nipping at the sensitive flesh, nearly making you yelp.Â
âMâright there with you, angel baby, come for me,â he insists breathlessly.
His hips were losing their precision, going buck-wild, so you knew he was close. But he was holding out for you.Â
You clench your eyes closed, feeling yourself lose all control. Your heart races in your chest, beat thrumming in your throat as you hold Joel against your front as his hips continue to snap and fill you. You donât know what to do with your mouth, so you feverishly land your lips on his and make him mask the moans of your orgasm.Â
Joelâs groan echoes loudly into your mouth as you gasp against his lips. Your walls clench eagerly around his cock as he spills into the condom.Â
Itâs blinding, deafening even. Your face goes slack and your eyes see stars. You think you might be shedding a tear or two because Joel is cupping your face kindly, thumbs swiping under your eyes as he encourages you out of your haze.Â
âLemme see those eyes, pretty girl,â he pants sweetly, watching for any sign of doubt. But he wouldnât find any.Â
Youâre not so sure where he starts and you begin, your mind is so fuzzy.Â
A soft hum leaves your lips as you soothingly run a hand through his dark hair again, gently stroking the longer curls away from the sheen on his forehead. Both of you were so warm, it felt like a fire was set between you two. When you curl a strand around your finger, you weakly smile as it coils back up and bounces.Â
âHow was your first time, angel?â Joel pants, still buried balls deep inside of you. Your hips ache, but part of you wasnât ready for him to pull out yet.Â
âI canât believe I finished twice.â You admit with a shy smile, running a thumb up his cheekbone and glancing up at his eyebrow piercing. He notices you staring but keeps his eyes on your own. Â
âDid it hurt?â
He shakes his head.Â
âWhat about the one in your nose?â
He shakes his head again, this time with a smile.Â
âOr your tongue?âÂ
This one made him ponder before he finally gave a light shrug.Â
âYou donât remember the pain after a while. Just like tattoos. The pain is temporary.âÂ
Your mouth tilts in a lopsided smile, feeling messy with both of your spillages still puddled around your centers.Â
Joel grunts as he slowly stands up from his bent-over position on the desk, pulling himself out of you and tying up the condom before he tosses it into the waste bin.Â
You whine quietly to yourself as you close your legs. It hurts a little more now. Your hips and your core, a certain soreness. Or maybe it was missing him already.Â
âOh,â you whisper, starting to feel a little bit of leakage glide down your thigh. âJoe, do you-âÂ
âCourse,â Joel says assuringly, hands already on a towel as he neals down and gently glides the material up the inside of your thigh. You bite down on your lip as he cleans you up with the soft towel and a little bit of water.Â
You glance around the sterilized room and realize heâll probably have to scrub this place down for the most part. Whoops.Â
Youâre slow to dress. Joelâs already buttoned his pants by the time you find your panties. He snickers quietly and helps you dress with a smirk.Â
Itâs not awkward like you feared it would. It sort of felt like you guys were friends. Then, something sort of unexpected happens.Â
Joel fondly strokes a hair out of your face, pushing it behind your ear and smoothing out the little knots he had caused while fisting your hair during his blowjob. Heâs soft and gentle with you. It makes you oh so curious what he looks like when heâs not soft and gentle.Â
You sigh softly as you look at yourself in the mirror. You sort of felt proud, like youâd be a whole new person leaving the shop today. Even without a tattoo.Â
âJoel, I donât want anyone to see me leaving your office.âÂ
âThat ashamed of me, huh?â He scoffs at you playfully, running his hand up and down his chest hair before he finally throws on his shirt. âI have the back office, so we can just go out that door.â He juts up his chin to behind you and you follow his eyeline. âGoes to the alley behind the shop.âÂ
You note the dark green painted exit door, and youâre thankful you donât have to parade through the front of the shop or go past any other clients.Â
The gentleman that he is, Joel walks you to your car as dusk settles in, marking the sky an orange and red horizon. Â
âI gotta clean up the shop and close. You gonna be okay until I see you next?â
You nod meekly, a sweet smile on your face that twinges with a little shyness. âIâll be okay. I still need that tattoo.â You tease to which he grins.Â
âYou do. Iâve worked real hard on it, so you better come back anâget it.âÂ
You nip at your lower lip as he stays guarded by your window, like a handsome pierced, and tatted bodyguard.Â
Itâs itching at you too much to let it go. Youâre just too curious. âMânot this gentle.âÂ
âYeah? Maybe you can show me next time what youâre really like.âÂ
âNot sure if you can handle it, kitten.âÂ
You gulp and clutch his hand before he fully stands up to walk away from your car. âYouâll show me again sometime? Like you said?â
Your eyes glimmer with a certain hopefulness, but his own seem to harden out of caution.Â
It was just insane that he knew so much more than you. You wanted to unlock all forms of pleasure you were comfortable with. You like that he was holding something back.Â
You were wet clay in his massive hands, he could mold you to his liking. You could learn his pleasures, his kinks, what unravels him beyond repair. You could learn a thing or two about yourself in the process.Â
Joel sighs.Â
âYou donât know what youâre askinâ for.â He warns, lips crooked in a snarl. His eyes beg for you not to want him, not to want this.Â
But nothing set your nerves on fire like seeing him in control of you, just that brief second where his eyes flashed from amber to black and he fucked you like nothing or no one was stopping him. What if you gave it all up to him?Â
Submissiveness dances behind your eyes, and Joelâs a sucker for that sweet look on your face. He debates if this is what you really want, or if itâs something else. He canât deny he enjoys the trust you put in him.Â
Joel quietly sighs with hesitation, eyes the way your small hand desperately holds his before he finally squeezes back.Â
âYou donât know how tâtake no for an answer, do ya?â He asks, a small smirk twitching at the corners of his mouth. âThatâll have to change.âÂ
You grin and nod, biting down on your lower lip as you shift uncomfortably in your seat. Joel takes notice, not wanting to see you in any sort of discomfort, especially from something he caused.Â
âTake some pain medicine and relax tonight, angel. You were perfect.âÂ
Your heart swells at the compliment, the appreciation, the care. He gently pats your window a few times before standing up straight and backing up from your car, moving back towards the dark green exit door. âIâll see you soon.âÂ
Driving away, youâre giddy with excitement of the unknown. It was a dark path you wanted to pursue. And maybe it was fucking stupid how you could trust a complete stranger like this, how none of your past partners felt worthy of your first time, but the tattooed and pierced old southern gentleman did. It was fucked. But you were sort of fucked for Joel Miller.Â
You hum to the radio as you experience pure adrenaline, thumb gliding over the raised numbers on his business card. You glance down and notice a small stamp of a fern in the top right corner, adjacent to his name and professional title.Â
The Obsidian GalleryÂ
Joel Miller
Senior Tatoo Artist
You canât explain how your heart inadvertently races as you remember flashes of his hips rutting into yours, those same delicate fern leaves decorating the front of his hips. You were so fucked for Joel Miller.Â
next chapter ->
#joel miller#joel miller fic#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller fanfic#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller smut#joel miller fluff#joel miller angst#The Last Of Us#tlou#the last of us fic#joel miller tlou#pedro pascal#joel miller pedro pascal#daddy dd/sub#dd/sub kink#dd!joel miller#dom/sub
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Prepared for Anything
Part 2, MasterPost
Danny stared at the ceiling, bored, as the creepy clown laughed manically at a camera. Danny hadnât been in this dimension for two minutes, (heâd portalled directly into Jokerâs hideout) before he was promptly tied to a chair. He could get out of it easily.
Thing was, there were others here, restrained more thoroughly than Danny. They wore colourful, armoured suits and were obviously the vigilantes/heroes of this. . .placeâGotham? Dannyâd heard the name mentioned a few times nowâThis Freakshow wannabe was obviously one of their villains.Â
Danny had been hoping someone would show up without having to draw attention to himself. What was this dimensionâs stance on halfas? Or ghosts?
But no one had come yet, it had been an hour, and he was getting stiff from sitting here so long without being able to move his limbs.
Danny heaved a loud, exasperated sigh-groan at the ceiling. The guy, face-painted like a toddler whoâd gotten into their parentâs make-up, suddenly stopped monologuing.Â
Good. It was getting annoying.
âAre you done yet?â Danny complained much like the impatient teenager he was. âIâve got crap to do, wrap it up, would you?â
Danny came here to explore. He was not exploring. He should be exploring and it was all this dudeâs fault.
Danny supposed he could go all ghost on him and bounce, but he came all this way. It wasnât much of hassle, but still. Danny was stubborn. He knew this.
The warehouse was silent. The creepo wasnât talking, anymore, he wasnât doing anything, and Danny deigned to lift his head from where itâd been thrown back on the chair.
The costumed people were looking at him in horror.
Danny wasnât sure why.
The walking fashion disaster began to cackle with condescending amusement.
Yeah, okay, whatever.
Danny ignored the manâs delve into something about Dannyâs impending doom, or threatening him with pain, and something, something, something. Something about broken this, burning that, yada, yada yada, when Danny got an idea.
Behind the chair where his hands were bound, knowing no one was behind him, he quietly broke the ropes on his wrists. The vigilantesâa red one with bandoliers crossing over his chest and one who wore a largely grey and black suit with an R emblem on the left side of his chestâwere valiantly trying to dissuade the psycho to leave Danny alone, who now realized the said psycho was coming towards him, carrying a crowbar.
How original.
The Joker, as Danny heard someone call him at some point, heâs not sure when, leaned in close. His breath stank.Â
Danny made a disgusted face. âDo you not brush your teeth at all? Gross, dude.â
âYou wonât be makââ
Danny punched him in the jaw. The guy went down pretty easily.Â
Danny made an annoyed noise as he bent down to untie his ankles from the chair legs. He muttered to himself. âStupid villains, always gotta get in the way, why canât I just have one nice vacation, huh?â
âHow did you do that?âÂ
Danny looked up at the red one. âDo what?â He asked, standing and stretching with satisfying pops.
âGet free.â
âOh. . .â Danny reached into his hoodie sleeve and pulled out a small hand saw. He guessed he coulda used a knife, but it was the first thing he'd thought of.
The guy spluttered. âYou just keep a saw in your sleeve?â
âYep.â Danny popped the P. No need for them to know he can make portals. As tiny as needed. âYou guys want help out of those, or what?â Danny gestured to the chains keeping the two bound on the floor.
âNo, Jokerâs goons outside probably has the keys, we have back-up. . . .coming. . . .where did you get that?â
Danny didnât miss a beat as he crouched to get a grip on the chain with the large pair of bolt cutters. âAh, ya know, never leave home without a good pair of bolt cutters.â He offered. The room they were in was pretty bare, saying he found it âlying aroundâ wouldnât work. Itâd be pretty obvious.
âThat is absurd.â The younger one said. âWhere did they come from?â
Danny snapped the red one free and moved onto the angry eyebrows one. How did they still emote so well through those masks? âJust had it on hand.â
âBut whââ
âOh look! There ya go! I gotta go, nice being held hostage with y'all.â Danny ignored their calls for him, climbing out of the nearest window and disappearing.
#danny phantom#dpxdc fanfic#crossover fic#dimension travel#BAMF danny fenton#tim drake wayne#damian wayne
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Any fluffy sweet Drabble about the moon boys đ«Ą
SWEET MORNINGS | Marc Spector x reader
description: the boys wake up to their girlfriend making breakfast, too bad she has no clue which boy is fronting that morning
length: 1.1k
warnings: representation of DID, Marc's slight self loathing (it's Marc idk what to say). Writer has never experienced DID so I am going off the show
He woke up peacefully, which had once been a fleeting dream in itself for a man like him. Heâd spent years jumping at the smallest sounds, flinching at voices and footsteps, ready to be up and out of bed within a momentâs notice. Yet, when his eyes slowly blinked out of the reverie of sleep, he heard her humming along to the radio, already half way through the song, heard her socks sliding against the kitchen floor as she whirled around the stove, and the smell of pancakes and coffee hit him with full force.Â
His lips drew into a smile before he even knew it, and he was drawing the covers back, her side of the bed not entirely freezing which told him sheâd been up about twenty minutes. Marc grabbed his shirt off the floor, the same one Steven used to sprinkle with sand when he had no idea about their coexistence, only two years later, it was scrubbed clean, even with a pretty, knit rug youâd bought from your apartment when you moved in.Â
Tugging it over his head, he padded into the living room, where he could already see your form where you danced around the kitchen, entirely unaware of his approach. Heâd been trying to teach you self defence, said you needed to learn to have a sixth sense when it came to people on your tail, because he had a tendency to worry about you more than Steven and Jake did. But maybe it was the fact he had naturally light footsteps, or maybe it was the fact you knew in the comfort of your home he would always be there to protect you, either way your guard was entirely down by the time he swooped behind you, grabbing you in a warm, soft hug, pressing kisses down the side of your bare neck and onto your shoulder.Â
âMorning,â His voice was muddied with sleep, and he cleared his throat, hoping to take some of the husk out of it despite the fact you whirled around to look at him with something that told him just what you thought of his rumbling voice.Â
âMorning, honey,â You said, pressing a small kiss to his lips, your hand still on the frying pan that he now realised had been filled with mini-chocolate pancakes, the batter sizzling and cracking in the oil, âYou hungry?âÂ
Marc wasnât really listening as he gave a âmhmâ, too busy burying his nose in the crook of your neck and jaw, kissing lazily there as he tightened his grip on your waist.Â
His gaze fell on the counter after a moment, the blueberry porridge Steven went crazy for already dished up in the little purple bowl youâd painted for him for their birthday, whirled of steam coming off the breakfast that was slowly turning a cornflour colour with the chopped fruit swirling in the centre.Â
âSorry, baby, I think Stevenâs still sleeping, I can try ask him-â He started as you used a spatula to quickly flip the pancakes, their underside a golden brown that made his mouth water.
âOh, donât worry. I wasnât sure who was joining me for breakfast, or if all of you wanted something, so I made a bit of everything,â You said, smiling at him as you turned the gas down and spun in his arms, batting your eyes at him with an innocent smile, âChocolate pancakes for you, blueberry oatmeal for Steven and a black coffee for Jake since I know you guys got mad last time we had bacon together,â
âWhat a woman,â Jakeâs voice was a growl of appreciation that Marc couldnât help but agree with, and he was quick to lean in to steal a handful of long kisses, grabbing the soft plush of your hips with feather light fingers and pulling you towards him, âAy, Romeo, your pancakes are burning.â
You sprung away from him like youâd heard the alter yourself, your eyes wide in surprise, âYour pancakes are burning!âÂ
He heard Jake chuckle and a smile made itâs way onto his face as you fretted over whether the brown was where the chocolate had melted or if the mix had singed, but Marc thought he might just eat anything you gave him because you poured so much love and affection into it he couldn't help but think it tasted divine.Â
âMarc, Iâm sorry, I know we have the no hogging the body rule and I got to have her all last night, but please let me have just a few bites- o-or atleast ask her to save it for me, that stuff smells delicious,â Steven seemed to be wide awake and kicking at the sight of food, and Marc sighed, reaching out with one hand to swoop your hair off your neck as he kissed the very top of your spine.Â
âSteven asks if we could save him the blueberry oatmeal since itâs my turn to spend time with you,â He said gently, and he feels you smile before he sees it, the way your cheeks crinkle and pull tightly.Â
âOf course I can, baby, Iâll put it in the fridge,â You said, despite the fact the man was inside the body, scooping the little circular goods onto two plates for both of you. Turning to set the plates on the table, Marc grabbed two glasses out of the cabinet, opening the fridge door with a rattle as the magnets clasped pictures of the two of you to the cooler.Â
âOrange or apple juice?â He asked, pulling the former out of the side drawer for himself.Â
âOrange, please,â You replied politely, grabbing some cutlery out and laying it beside his plate.Â
The two of you sat down finally, Marc sliding the filled glass over to your half of the dinner table and allowing himself to just watch as you picked up your knife and fork, digging into the chocolatey breakfast before it went cold.Â
He never deserved any of this, the light touches and the breakfasts and the devotion and the way you put him on a pedestal. But sitting in the slow hum of the radio, the most obscure top hundreds playlist he thinks you could have chosen, he bit into his pancake, his tongue exploding with sugary yumminess, as you told him the weird dream youâd had about him becoming some kind of half horse, centaur type man and how you wondered if he would wear jeans on the front legs, the back legs, or if you would have to have custom, four legged bottoms made for him.Â
The two of you laughed, because he didnât quite understand what had gotten him so lucky as to end up with you. He could get used to all this.
#marc spector x reader#steven grant x reader#jake lockely x reader#moonknight x reader#oscar isaac x reader
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Between Dreams and Sugar
Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader
Synopsis: Your screams will haunt his dreams until the day he dies.
Word Count: 5.1k
Warnings: Torture, gore, angst, violence & death, suggestive joke, fluff, happy ending, rescue fic but who rescues who...>:)
A/N: Guys, I have a confession - I don't think I can write Ghost properly lmfao. This is horrifically mid.
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
There was so much blood coating your body that you had forgotten where the wounds were and werenât. It flowed from you like viscus waterâa homogeneous mixture of congealed shades of red like rubies except for the simple fact that this was not beautiful; it was not desired or sought after.Â
 On the ground, soaking in indistinguishable pools of crimson, ripples are sent out when your limp foot twitches mutely in its clutch. That was all you could do now. Twitch. Writhe. They didnât even bother tying you to the chair anymoreâjust let you slouch half out of it like a school kid who had gotten too drunk the night before.Â
Hell, you wished you were drunk.Â
âSergeant.âÂ
You wished you could feel your fingers. You wished you could move your neck up from its bend position as if it was a wilting flower; hair stuck to your skin. Blood dribbles out of your mouth. DripâŠdropâŠdripâŠdrop.Â
Youâd bitten your tongue open in a vain attempt to stop yourself from screaming, hadnât you? YouâŠyou canât quite remember.
âSergeant!â Groaning long and low, the violent chills that wrack your form only serve to make yourself bleed out faster, tension forcing precious life fluid out from burst veins and slashed ankles.Â
Cuts far span your legs and shoulders. Your back is nothing more than a painting of burns coated with sweat and infection; puss sticking you to the backrest of the chair like yellow-colored adhesive. Your clothes are the opposite idea of modesty. Tattered, torn by blades to create harm. Fuck, could you even breathe properly anymore?
Lungs only create a wheezeâyouâre not getting enough oxygen to function.Â
A dark growl bounces off the walls.
Ghost struggles against his binds, uniform also in a state of disarray with very obviously broken ribs and bruised chest. Splotches of yellow-white mounds signal blunt trauma over the pale skin thatâs already laced with old scars.Â
Theyâd all but anchored him to his chairâand even then the red marks that blister are a signal of the brutality of the large man as he peels back his skin to try and struggle himself out.Â
You whine, the loftiness stuck in your brain addictive; to pull back that curtain was as much of a struggle as staying awake. That harsh Manchester accent was something to draw closer to, though, professionalism a key to the lock on your failing consciousness. The reminder of companionship.
âGâŠâ Your vocal cords fizzle, âGhostâŠâÂ
âOpen your eyes.â Every word was enunciated, deep and guttural.
Parting your lips, more blood drowns your lap in thick globs, and soon your battered throat vibrates with coughs that make you see stars, mild panic the moment you realize that you canât breathe.Â
Jerking forward, you gasp, eyes snapping open as your neck bends ahead in desperation. Mucus and other bodily fluids spray over your lap, tinged scarlet, but the blockage in your throat is dispelled as your broken ribs quiver in agony.Â
Whimpering like a kicked dog, you wonder how long itâll take for Ghost to realize getting you to focus on him was pointless. If this all continued, youâd be dead within the day.Â
But you entertain him.
Head slowly balking back as your jaw hangs loose, you rest it on the wooden frame behind you as softly as youâre able with a most likely concussed brain and a fractured skull. Only one eye opens, and even then itâs half-glued to your cheek with dried blood.Â
Ghostâs balaclava had been ripped off. It felt wrong to see him in the open like this. Exposed. It was quite obvious he disliked it just as much as you did.Â
Blue eyes blazed at you; blonde hair going this way and that as crimson fell down the swell of his Adamâs Apple from a very broken nose. That gaze was unrelenting, and even with your blurry vision, you knew it would be unwise to look away.Â
His stubbled jaw sets as a heart can be seen skipping beats in his breast. You were totally out of it, enough so that you missed the way his lungs slightly released when you had pulled yourself back to the present.Â
The gulping sigh.
âThatâs it, Sergeant.â You cough once more, wet and haggard, and your head falls back to your chest before you have to force it back up on shaking muscles. It was getting harder. âEasy does it, thenâŠThought I lost you.â
âCâcanât,â the useless feet flicker over the ground, sloshing through fluid in unstable jumps as you slur out, âHurts, Ghost.â Â
A slow and dark inhalation meets your ears before a sudden grunt of a struggling body; jerking arms as the chair squeals with old nails being torn out.Â
âI know, Birdie, I know.â His tone is lesser now as he bites back a curse as the blisters on his arms pop, the rope burns turning a vile color as his muscles strain, âBut you keep those pretty little eyes on me, yeah?âÂ
It wasnât supposed to go like this.Â
Black Operations were dangerous, yeah, but never had the Lieutenant been so down in the gutter as he was right now. Mainly because of you, no, entirely because of you. He could withstand months of tortureâmental and physicalâwith no problem. Heâd done it countless times before.Â
But never had he been forced to watch someone hurt you instead of him.
They would come in every day, these pitiful excuses for German drug runners, and would make him watch as they ripped open your skin with blunt knives and other tools coated in rust. Questions would be askedâquestions that Ghost knew he could not answer even if it was you who would get punished.Â
Every time you would flinch when the door to this concrete basement opened, it was harder to keep his tongue from wagging. He was watching you die; letting it happen.Â
Fuck, it made him sick.
Ghost violently reems a shoulder up and down, not caring about the long stripes of now oozing blood on his forearms or the pain that the action brings bone-deep. There was so much scarlet flowing from you. Too much.
What he knows for certain is that he canât let you die here. Heâd never forgive himself for that.
How is she still conscious? The question was utterly genuine as Ghostâs dead eyes narrowed dangerously, sparking with urgency at the uneven risings and fallings from your chest.Â
âFucking hell,â the Lieutenant growls, each word punctuated by a desperate attempt to free himself. He had to get you out of this. You were his responsibility; his team.Â
HisâŠGhost pants, sweat dripping down his arms.
You didnât abandon him, how could he do the same to you? When questioned you hadn't given up his true name, hadnât blabbered to save your own skin so you could avoid a horrible amount of pain. Pain that Ghost knew well.Â
Pain that was never supposed to be known to you.
Your screams would haunt his nightmares until the day he died.Â
âGhost,â blue eyes freeze, snapping away from the sight of the bone around his wrists becoming visible through a thin coverage of remaining flesh. He pauses like a guard dog. Your optic was glinting, flicking with failing consciousness. The movement of your chest sputtered as the man clenched his teeth together. âYouâre hurtinâ yourself.âÂ
ââBout to do even more damage, yeah?â he gets back to it, working enough blood into the rope to make it slick; dripping. âIf itâll get me out of these bastard things.âÂ
The weak smirk on your face gives his brows a deep furrow, sweat glistening on his forehead.
A part of him hated you. Hated you for the way you had this effect on him. He shouldnât care if you lived or diedâthat wasnât his cross to carry.Â
But youâd made him soft these last few months. Soft, and weak, and disgustingly concerned for your safety. It wasnât right. It wasnât Ghost.Â
âGonna bâŠbleed out, yâknow.â Your tongue slips, mind so loose that anything that comes to the front slips out like water from a slip-and-slide. Fingers twitching, your limp body grows so cold that you shiver.Â
âNegative.â Ghost barks, slipping one hand partially under the restraint and his flesh, acting as a zipper, starts to go with it. He hisses under his breath, body hot and spilling. Mutilating himself. âShut your damn gob.â Blood splatters to the floor, âIâm gettinâ us out of âere.â
âTell me a joke.â Blue eyes flicker, blonde lashes slipping over pale cheeks.Â
You feel another wave of pain shutter through youâone that makes you whimper as quietly as a soft breeze on a summer day.Â
âJoke?â Ghost hisses, glaring over at you without heat. âThe fuck are you on about?â A wobbling eyebrow raise is all he gets.Â
He grunts feral-like, evocative of a bear that hadnât gotten his supper. Your lid droops and panic spikes.
âHow long can a fish breakdance for?â Ghost slips a hand free, snarling in the back of his mouth as the entirety of his left hand is left ripped open, the fissures itchy and welling. Wasting no time, the limb goes to assist the other, pulling with ripped-off fingernails at the tight knot. A side-eye is sent your way.
Only you weren't moving. Lips snap in a moment of obvious concern, not only by the tone but by the way the man jerks forward in the chairâno matter if one arm and both of his legs were still restrained.
âLove!â The door handle rattles with screeching chains, but Ghost is occupied with raging at you. Ordering you to stay awake with terrifying eyes. It was as though for the first time in a long time there was true fear in his throat. True hatred.Â
Chucking voices heat veins that he had long since thought were cold, and the Lieutenant composes himself with a sharp pause. He leans back slowly into the chair; jaw so tight his molars almost crack in the back of his mouth like candy. Your face is tilted downward, and Ghost memorizes the make of it, trails his gaze slowly over every slash and cut that mars you. Feet slap off the concrete as multiple people enter the room, but it was like a switch had flipped internally, walls going up.
The mask was still there, even if all that physically remained of it was the black paint in his sockets.
Heâd return every mark, from a bruise to an open wound, tenfold. But you needed to wake up first. YouâŠyou needed to.
You had to be okay.
Three men encircle the two of you, faces hidden and obviously enjoying a bit of their own product.
âLook at this, Lutz, the man got a hand out of the binding.â Blue eyes travel to stare dead-on into a pair of blown pupils; mind gone.Â
The second man goes to grip your hair, forcing your head up in inspection. Ghostâs vision immediately travels over, biceps going tense like a dog with its hackles raised and vision going red.Â
âDonât worry about that. Itâs one hand, what can the Bastard do?â
âOh,â another laughs, though his body is wound tight, âcareful with the woman, Alricâthe beast looks like heâs about to snap at you.â Â
The three share sly looks. Alric, the one with your hair in his grip, shakes your head back and forth, blood flying around in the air as your limp body jerks. Ghost lunges, but he only makes it as far as the chair allows him before heâs shoved back by a hand on his chest.Â
Moving quicker than an animal, bone snaps, and an agony-laced scream echoes off the walls not a millisecond later.Â
Ghost had gripped that hand and twisted, making the wrist joint completely flip on itself. Blank blue eyes watch with glints of sadistic glee as the man wails, grabbing onto himself and falling back onto his ass.
The one holding you instantly releases your hair and rushes to his friend.Â
âHoly fuck!â Everyone divulges into frantic German curses, Ghost making out a command to leave and go see a doctor.
âCheers. Good luck with that, yaâ Bastard.â Grumbling under his breath, the Lieutenant realized he was probably enjoying this more than he should, but always his attention shifts back to you. How you hang limb, battered face covered by your hair, and loss of blood steadily leaving your hands curling into the palmsâ
Ghostâs eyes widen slightly as the two still try and calm down their companion. Your hand. It wasnât curled because of onset rigor mortis. You were holding a blade.Â
The Britâs large chest swells with pride; jaw going somewhat slackened as he stares at you. So you were faking itâŠ.Fucking hell, Sweetheart.Â
Slowly, his vision peels to the empty sheath on Lutzâs belt. It wasnât a big knifeânothing more than a three-inch blade on the end. But you were still conscious enough to hear these goons show up before he had; had used sleight of hand that anyone else in your situation would have just given up on.Â
It was hard to hold back a low chuckle, but he managed. Fuck, you were something else.
The two unmaimed men shove the third out the door, shouting down the hallway as his sobs and sniffling nose reverberate even as heâs out of sight.Â
Grunting, the Brit shifts his hips, lips pulling in a snarl at the bouncing electrical wire that goes up his ribs. Many were broken; along with his nose and a dislocated shoulder, but he knows he can deal with it. Getting you out and to the Evac point was his top priorityâhis wounds werenât over-the-top life-threatening unless they went too long without treatment.Â
You on the other hand.Â
Lids narrow on the way the knife-holding hand shakes with exertion when simply applying pressure. If this was going to happen, it had to happen now.
âThat was a nice little show,â Alric growls, standing in the middle of the two in the chairs and keeping a considerable distance farther from Ghost than you. Blue eyes blink blankly, emotions swiftly wiped away. âOne-handed? Iâm impressed.âÂ
Ghost raises a single blonde eyebrow, âMore where that came from.âÂ
Alric smiles.
âEmilâget the gun.â Legs slowly tense, but other than that thereâs no outward display of nervousness.Â
Seconds later a barrel is level with Ghostâs forehead, the chilled metal pressing deep into his blood-coated skin. He doesnât balk back, he doesnât even flinch, just watches with a dim flicker in his optics that remains even after he blinks. Like a catâs slitted pupils.Â
It would be no use shoving the gun out of this manâs handsâhe would fire before the Lieutenant was able to steal the weapon for himself.Â
âIâm getting sick of this game, Soldier. Weâve been through this day after day.â Alric swipes at his nose, white powder stuck under his nostrils. Ghost canât stop the small tick of his mouth. âTell me who you are,â the gun swivels, and the Britâs heart seizes up. It points at your abdomen. âOr the girl gets a nice new stomach.âÂ
Lips thin into a small line as hidden fury swells.Â
âAlricâŠâ Emil seems nervous, his feet shifting and hands twitching. The aura Ghost was emitting was like a dark cloud around the room; sheer size and indistinguishable emotions rose to drown out all else when a threat to the beastâs bird was brought into the picture. There had been multiple times throughout the days when the men had been scared to touch you at all for fear of the look that had been leveled their way. Those eyesâŠfuck it was like a demon was stuck in flesh. In blue so close to gray the color was more like the concrete of a prison cell. âI donât think thatâs a good idea.âÂ
âTell me.â Alric growls as Emil gets closer to you. Ghost stays silent, unblinking as his fingers curl into fists. His knuckles crack from the force. âTell me!â
Emil bushes your shoulder and you lunge. Bringing the blade into his chest, your form brings the both of you to the floor in a splash of scarlet and twin screams of pain.Â
The Blondeâs heart seizes at the sound in an aggressive bounce.
Alric whips around, eyes widened and gun loose in his grip. Ghost wastes no time, trusting your judgment, and shoves himself forward. A shot goes off as the Lieutenant rams his shoulder into the man, but the bullet bites into the far wall instead of your back as you dig your knife into Emilâs throat; wrestling for life.Â
The chair still attached to Ghost was a problem, but his body weight was used to his advantage. Sinew bunched as a growl exits his lips, Alric and him slamming to the floor in a flurry of rabid intentions and the likeness of wolves caught in a trap. Ghostâs eyesight goes red, remembering every cut and beating you went through for him in the reflection of Alricâs eyes. That pathetic drug runner had made you bleed.Â
His bird doesnât bleed.
Teeth and nails are tools kept for animals, and now that the gun was too far from grip and you were limp beside the gargling body of Emil, Ghost decided that being a bit insane might do him well at the moment.Â
He had to get you out of here. And in no world was this man going to get away to live one day more.
âPlease, donât,â Alric begs, clawing at his behemoth build, âIâm notâI wasnâtâ!âÂ
Blood-stained teeth snap into the thin flesh of a visible neck as dead blue eyes keep you in sight like a dog does the moon.
â
You donât recall anything after slashing one manâs neck and even that is a blur of flashing colors; instances of one waxing expression waning into another. Trapped between bouts of failing consciousness and pain that could rival someone getting their bones snapped one by one.Â
But you know the feeling of moss on your cheek. The shadow that sits above you and the fingers that prod at your back, pressing cooling salves of Silverweed into the burns and cuts. Your eyes weakly flicker, a low moan stuck in your throat.Â
Every limb is a cinder block.
âStop your moving.â The command was stiff but quiet, and the pressure on your spine increased. Flinching, the sensation of tight bindings all along your body became apparent to you, slowly but surely.Â
âThatâŠhell?â You cough, throat bare and dry. Sweat drips down your temple.Â
Blinking rapidly, you try to focus on the cold wind whipping past your bare skin, the trees in the distance of what appeared to be a glade. The sound of a running stream makes your ears perk.
A canteen was suddenly shoved to your lips and you grunt in surprise, water slicking your closed lips.
âDrink.â You donât argue, peeling back your lips and letting the liquid drip into your mouth, most falling to the moss under you and getting re-adsorbed into the earth. â...Thereâs a girl.âÂ
The metal container disappears just as quickly as it showed up, and you lick at the corner of your lips, cheeks burning at the comment.
Ghost kneels above you, bar a shirt, and you narrow your lids to focus on the black and blue splotches completely covering him. He still doesnât have a mask, and you glance over the blonde stubble; the scars, and the aggressive set of his eyebrows. The blood had been washed away, and you wondered if the stream in the background of this place was still stained with crimson and the telltale black of eye paint.
âSimon,â whispering seemed appropriate, though you donât know why. Your voice was better now but still, your body refused to listen to your instructions. Every plea to move your arms or legs was denied, sharp needles poking into your flesh that made you shake. âWhatâŠ?âÂ
Blue eyes blink down at you, something hidden in the depths. A finger curls to flick a stray hair from your face slowly. Skin brushes skin.
âSnagged what I could before I ran off. Wasnât much.â That harsh voice, the gravel in it. You frown weakly, your lids heavy. âBandages. Extra shirt. Blanket I used to stop the bleeding.â
He wonât tell you he was begging you to wake up when heâd been stuffing old fabric into your open wounds.Â
Coughs wrack your frame, whole body jerks that overtake what little peace there was to be found. A hand tilts your head back to the ground, patient as the other grabs your hair, peeling the strands away as a flood of vomit escapes your mouth.Â
Eyes burning and face hot, you sputter as a thumb runs deep circles over your scalp.Â
âEasyâŠâ Ghost whispers, tattoos like obsidian in the darkness of the world around the two. Late afternoon and this was the first time youâd woken up since heâd been carrying you. A nail was taken out of his heart.Â
Seeing your eyes flicker, even filled with the tears as they were, was a blessing heâd thank whatever God that was out there for. âEasy, Sweetheart. Breathe for me.â
âFuck,â you gasp, shaking more than a leaf. âFuck it hurts, Simon.âÂ
He shifts you slightly away from the bile, the familiar words burning his lungs.Â
âEvac point is four miles.â It felt like a death sentence to you, your eyes going buggy at the thought. âIâm carrying you there.âÂ
âBullshit,â you pant, wheezing. âYour arms are destroyed.âÂ
Ghost blinks before scowling, sending a glance to his limbs. Theyâre both raw and skinned, just like his fingers; red with burst blisters the size of rocks. One hurts far more than the other.
âTheyâre nothing.âÂ
âNothing pretty to look at,â blue eyes narrow on you in annoyance, but the dry-humored Brit doesn't miss a beat.
âSeems youâre in good spirits, Sergeant. Fancy walking on your own?â Your lips flick, delirious and high off of whatever pain meds that Ghost had found when he had been carrying you out of the basement of that house.Â
Try as he might, the feeling of your dead weight was worse than he ever could have imagined. So, outwardly, he stayed numb but knew that every little look from you was as beautiful as a sunrise.Â
âWant me to try?â Palms begin to shift, a hand pressing deep into the moss that bends and yields to your form.Â
Ghost snaps forward.
âFucking Bastard!â He puts weight on the back of your shoulder as you hiccup dull chuckles, âQuit it! Else Iâll leave you here to annoy the damn plants.â
The threat was empty, and your eyes softened as they spread their fatigued gaze over the span of the Britâs visible skin, glee leaking out. Ghost sighs, shaking his head sharply at you, agitation stuck in his skull as it always was.
So beastly, this man, but his hold on you was about as gentle as you could imagine.Â
Your attraction to him was anything but one-sided. You knew his emotions as well as your own; it was quite obvious to everyone but him. The long looks, the concerned glances. His touch freely given.
He had given you his name and, to you, that was about as close to a proposal as a ring was. Youâd kissed; youâd shared beds and shared skin. You knew when he was being horrible to himself deep in the confines of his head.
âSimon,â you whisper, and a blue gaze stays stubbornly away, glaring at your burns with venom. A tired smile peels your lips. âSimon.âÂ
A huff is all you get, a bush of skin as breath wafts over your bare back. Your hand goes to touch his knee, brushing softly over the torn fabric. The flinch would not be noticeable to anyone but you. Brows pull slightly tighter.Â
âI had a dream about you, yâknow.â Speaking hurt, but the attention that is finally brought your way was worth it. Birds chirp in the distance.
âWhatâs that?âÂ
âHm,â you lightly nod, cheek ruffling moss as you take down slow inhalations. Staring into each otherâs eyes you for a moment forget the agony under your skin. âYou were trapped by a giant fish underwater.âÂ
A Blonde eyebrow raises, slow smirk unable to be hidden. It was impossible not to be entirely taken by you. How you speak, how you breathe. Even like this, you had placed a spell of black magic over him, binding the darkness that made up Simon RileyâGhostâto your every action and whim.
âThat right, Sweetheart? What happened, then?â
Chuckling, Ghostâs hold goes to your neck, massaging the skin so delicately that you lose your train of thought for a moment as shivers erupt, âI had to save you.â Â
Lips press to your scalp, a bent nose digging despite the shifting cartilage as lion limbs shake with a want to drag you to him. Such a rabid beast that devotes himself to your life.
âYou tend to do a lot of the savinâ, Love.â Itâs muttered into your hair, softly, lowly. Compliments are rareâGhost prefers actions above all elseâbut theyâre treasured.Â
You know what he means.
âYeah, I love you, too, you brute.â Deep chuckles dance in your ear, and you both stay there for a while, simply breathing in each other as the sky bleeds into the earth. So content, your heart had slowed, the salve in your wounds and the bandages compressing the areas with the most problems and forcing them to be numb.Â
When you had nearly fallen asleep, Ghost had peeled back to look down at you; eyes malleable as they slipped over your battered body.Â
âHm,â he hums, reaching to his side and grabbing for the shirt he had stolen. After a few minutes of quiet curses and apologetic kisses, the large piece of fabric was over your top. The Lieutenant had begrudgingly admitted that the scraps of pants you had on now would have to do until you got proper attention.Â
âGiving the squirrels a show, then, Simon?â The man rolls his eyes deeply at the sarcastic comment, rubbing up and down your legs to keep circulation going as he readies to move you.
âThey better keep quiet âbout it,â Ghost grumbles, running a hand through his hair, âElse Iâll have to rip a few tails.â
âSo violent,â You wince when your shoulder is gripped, neck limp as your upper half was rotated. Gnashing your teeth, the Lieutenant shushes you comfortably, raising your body to rest in the crook of his large arm. Muscles tense and loosen, your cheek now resting on your Loverâs pec. You hear him hiss silently at the pressure on his broken ribs as guilt hits you. âNot the squirrelsâ fault.âÂ
âIt is if they keep looking at ya. Only I get to see you like that.â Your pain-laced laugh is cut off when youâre lifted, large hands under your knees helping equalize your body.Â
A strained whine exits your lips, straining to get air as you pant and clench your eyes shut. Ghost wasnât doing much betterâgritting his teeth and tilting his head back.Â
Feet stumble before righting themselves, lids opening as lashes flutter over bloodless cheeks to stare down at you.Â
The word seems to stop.
â...Tell me youâre alright.â You heard that for what it wasâTell me to keep going, because if you donât then I wonât be able to.Â
Blinking up at him, your nose slots under his chin as you feel him shake with exertion, lips pressing deep into his raging pulse. You swallow down saliva as his grip on you tightens, pressing you closer; giving you his body heat.
âIâm okay, Simon. NotâŠnot lost yet.âÂ
âGood.â He lets his eyes close for a moment, taking you in as he lets his nose be coated in your scent, the flesh under his fingertips. Ghost knows some of your wounds reopen, and, thus, his bare feet start off into the woods. His men would still be at the Evac point waiting for them. Price would have given the order. â...Iâll be needing you âround. Might lose my head otherwise, eh?â
âYou do seem to have a few loose screws when Iâm not near.âÂ
âThat was an exaggeration,â Simon grumbles.Â
You scoff, trying not to puke at his limping steps. The word swirls, but the man carrying you stays ever clear. âNo,â you whisper, âNo, it wasnât.â
Scared lips pull up, but the birds respond for him.Â
Less than ten percent out from the Evac point is when you drop a tidbit of a thought to the man.
âYâknow what I want, Ghost?â The large Brit side-steps a downed tree, sweat dripping down his chin to splatter to your skin.
âWhat is it?â He pants, sparing you a glance as his eyebrows are constantly furrowed in concentration. Your talking made it easier to push on.
âA fucking cake. A big one.â Blue eyes blink and his feet nearly stumble to a stop before he forces on. A gasp of a chuckle makes your heart skip a beat as voices start up from the next tree line.
âKeep talking to me, Love, and Iâll buy you the whole bloody bakery.â Soldiers burst from the bushes, and Ghost calls out identification as everyone gapes. Guns immediately lower.
Medics rush forward, but still on high alert, the Lieutenant snaps at them, bringing you closer into his hold as he pushes onward.Â
âWhereâs the fucking heli?!â Everyone stops and points. Huffing, Ghost shoves forward.Â
âThe whole bakery?â You slur, giggling and feeling the kiss on your head.Â
âEvery bastard pastryâll be yours. Count on it.âÂ
â
âSimon, you promised.â Your wheel-chair bound form pouts as the man in question deadpans from behind you, leaning on the handles. His balaclava can only hide so much.
The air is sweet with the scent of desserts and bread.Â
âBirdie, you canât eat all âO that, youâll explode like you took a .308 round to the head.â The woman behind the counter pales, pulling at the collar of her shirt with her smile becoming strained.
âIs that a challenge?â You glance over your shoulder, smirking wide.Â
âNo,â Simon blanky states, the skin over his nose bridge and under-eye completely black and blue.Â
âI think that was a challenge.âÂ
âIt wasnât.â
The customers grind their palms into their eye sockets, some tuning around in line and leaving entirely.
âSimon,â you intertwine your hands and lean to show him, eyes wide and pleading. âPlease.â Drawing out the word, you smile with everything you can.Â
The both of you connect in a battle of willsâyou with that infectious innocent and sly nature, and Simon with a tight glare and tired eyes. A blatant will to please you in every aspect and a need to see you happy at all times. This goes on for a full minute before a loud sigh echoes off the walls, shoulders deflating. A hidden kiss is pressed firmly to your head.
You giggle loudly at the authoritative order.
âOne of everything.â
TAGS:
@blueoorchid, @jxvipike, @revrse, @shuttlelauncher81, @bruhhvv, @kittiowolf210, @aerangi, @spikespiegell, @ghost-with-a-teacup, @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore, @uberraschungg, @neelehksttr, @shoe1412,@jemandderkeinenusernamenfindetâ, @pukbadger, @omeganixtra, @nanialis, @gills-lounge, @voidinfernal, @sukunas-left-nut-sack, @untoldshortsofthefandoms, @batmanunicorns523, @icepancakes, @copiasratscheese, @besas-stuff, @marytvirgin, @misfne, @halfmoth-halfman, @lothiriel9, @anna-banana27, @jade-jax, @cl0wncxre, @emerald-valkyrie, @michirulol, @330bpm-whiplash, @lora21, @bespectacledhuman, @wolfyland07, @dilfsaremyfavourite, @astronaunt2009, @shmaptin, @levietc, @kk19pls, @semieitabby, @thriving-n-jiving, @cringe-kats, @n1choles, @gaychaosgremlin, @johnpricesprincess, @haleypearce,
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Kinktober - Day 16
16th â toys, Lando Norris
The previous day I The next day I Kinktober masterlist I Main list
"What about you honey, how is work going?" Lando's mom asks from the other end of the table.
"It's going great actually, not to jinx it but I might be getting a-" You gasp when you feel the vibrations inside you.
"A what?" His dad questions.
"Go on my love, tell them." You glare at your boyfriend that thinks it's so funny to tease you right now.
"A p-promotion. You clear your throat trying to get yourself together.
As Lando's parents congratulate you in your head you're just thinking that this was such a terrible idea. It seemed so exciting when you first talked about it but not so much in this moment as you rub your thighs together feeling the little egg vibrator deep inside you. To his parents he seems to be just casually playing with his phone, but you knew the app he had open like the back on your hand and every time you see his thumb moving up you press your lips together to hold in a moan.
You try to keep the conversation going but it's getting harder as you can feel your panties get soaked by the second. You sneak some glances at him but he just looks so relaxed and chill like he's not making a mess out of you as he draws random shapes with his finger on the screen.
After some time you're practically dripping on your chair and you don't know how much more you can take before you either give into the pleasure and let yourself cum in the middle of the restaurant or just sneak a hand between your legs and pull the toy out.
"I'll be right back." You politely excuse yourself deciding to go for a third safer option.
You walk to the bathroom, struggling to walk normally with your legs just wanting to give in, but as you're closing the door a hand stops it. Lando steps inside locking the door behind him.
"What are you doing?" He teases. "This is not what we agreed."
"I know, I just." You whimper, legs shaking. "I can't take it anymore."
"C'mon baby, I know you can." He steps closer, phone on his hand making the vibrator hit its highest setting only to drop it down to nothing.
"Lando, please..." You plea letting yourself lean back against the wall.
"What is it?" He smirks. "Do you or do you not want to cum?"
"I do..." You bite your lip as the vibrations go back up.
"Then come back to the table." His voice is dark and full of lust.
"I can't..." You moan taking his free hand under your dress to feel your drenched underwear. "Do you think I can go back like this?"
"Damn baby, I didn't know you were this wet." Pulling your panties to the side he runs a finger between your folds pushing it inside you until he feels the toy vibrate against his fingertip.
You hold his shoulders for support, moaning loudly without caring if everybody can hear you outside this bathroom, all you want is to cum and by the way he moves the vibrator inside you it won't take long.
âDonât you just love it, darling?â His eyes didnât leave your swollen core. One huge sweet smile painted on his face, such a contrast from all of the scenarios in his head. âDo you love me doing this to you?â
You could only answer him with a rapid nod. Head unable to make up a word, making your mouth to just let out countless whines and mumbles. Your hips moved slightly, getting closer to the toys in hope for them to get you closer to your high. Again.
âGreedy baby wanted more of my toys, hm?â He pressed the vibrator harder to your clit as he moved the silicone dildo faster.
Your screams echoed through the walls, your back arched to the wall. Your sight blurred as your eyes started to prick with tears. âIâ Iâm close, Lan. Iâ Want you please. Want to cum on you.â Youâre just spitting every word you can make at this point.â
Lando giggled as he looked at you pleading. He put the toys beside on the sink as he try to undo his belt, âAnd my princess will get whatever she wants.â
Once his pants is off, he grabbed your waist to flip you against the sink, your face now facing the mirror inthe bathroom. Butterfly kisses were left by him on your shoulder blade as he pushed into you in one push. Moans and groans merged together as your warm walls wrapped him tightly.
âIâve fucked you with that toy yet youâre still this tightâ Fuck.â He bit the skin where your neck and shoulder met, making a mark to bloom there.Â
He grunts, thrusting deeper into you, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises. He pounds into you relentlessly, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the small bathroom. The mirror fogged up from your combined breaths and exertion.
"You love this, don't you? Love being filled by me, loved by me," he growls, nipping at your earlobe. "Tell me how much you need it, baby. Tell me how much you crave my cock."
His words are filthy, but they only spur you on, making your inner walls clench around him tighter. You're so close, teetering on the edge of oblivion.
"That's it, scream for me," Lando commands, slamming into you with brutal force."
With a loud groan, Lando hilts himself fully inside you, his release pulsing hotly against your cervix. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, panting heavily as aftershocks wrack through his body.
"Fuck...you feel incredible, Honey," he rasps, placing soft kisses along your sweat-slicked skin. "Love you so damn much..."
He slowly pulls out, both of you wincing at the loss. With gentle hands, he turns you around to face him, cupping your face tenderly. His thumbs brush over your cheeks, wiping away the tears that escaped during your intense coupling.
"My beautiful girl," Lando murmurs adoringly, leaning in to capture your lips in a searing kiss.
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#lando x you#lando norris#lando x reader#lando norris smut#f1 x you#f1 fic#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#fanfic#f1#lando norizz#smut#f1 smut#kinktober 2024#kinktober#kinktober masterlist#kinktober prompts#kinktober list#kink tumblr#formula one x reader#formula one imagine#formula one fanfiction#formula one x you
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Hey boo, this is the anon who gave u the idea of the locked room one-shot thank you for writing it â€ïž
I was wondering if you can write a one-shot like the reader is a daycare workerđ€Ș (her age is like 18-19) (I think you spoke about yourself working with children) and she looks after Rafes son named Felix or whatever u wanna name him and he is really clingy with the reader never lets go off her and gets jealous easily (Felix thinks of the reader as his mother since his birth mom left him after she gave birth) and he draws a painting of him, rafe, and reader. Rage doesn't know who reader is so Felix explains reader to him rafe falls in love and invites reader to babysit him paying her more than her daycare job and obviously there is smutâ€ïž
Playing House
Warnings: 18+, smut, age gap (Rafe is 32 and reader is 20), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up), cream pie, breeding kink, (let me know if I missed any!)
Wc: 4.1K
This is a two in one request with this one
A/N: hey Anon! I just have to say loving the requests. Your brain is like amazing. Keep them coming
Being a single dad at 29 was not on Rafeâs bingo card.
When the girl he was regularly hooking up with sent him the positive pregnancy test he laughed at the image. There was no way she was being serious. SUre he didnât like to use condoms but he pulled out and she said she was on birth control. There was no way in hell that she was actually pregnant.
Then she sent him a sonogram picture with her holding it up in the doctor's office. He was honestly fucked. At first he tried to play it off like it wasnât his. Saying she must have been sleeping with others. But when she didnât protest a paternity test he started to think she was telling the truth. Then nine months flew by and his baby boy was born. The moment he laid eyes on him he knew that was his son. The paternity test just confirms it.
It only took a week for her to run off leaving a note saying she wasnât ready to be a mom. As if he was ready to be a dad. It took a lot of trial and error to get into a routine. He wanted to rip his hair out everytime he woke up in the middle of the night due to crying. But once again he would look in his eyes and he couldnât. Heâs learned a lot from being a father over the last three years.
Heâs become more patient with others which is completely different from who he used to be. Not to mention he seems to actually have a heart. The mean old Rafe Cameron is now a gentle dad. But donât get him wrong, he would fuck up anyone who messed with his son. Thatâs why he was worried when he was forced to put Felix in daycare shortly after his third birthday.Â
Rafe got lucky having two younger sisters who were willing to watch him along with friends. But over time it became impractical to rely on them to watch Felix. They all had their own lives and couldnât spend hours on end with the child. That led to Rafe signing him up at Happy Beeâs, one of the best daycares in Kildare. Thatâs where Felix has been spending his days for almost a year. It seems to be doing good for him. Felix seems to have friends that he wouldnât stop blabbering about. But then one person always on the little boy's mind is you.
If Rafe has to hear about you one more time he might bash his head into a wall.Â
âDaddy wook! Miss help me.â Thatâs what Felix calls you, Miss. Maybe thatâs what you had the kids call you or maybe Felix just doesnât like saying your name. Everything is always Miss this or Miss that. The other day Felix refused to eat his veggies, making a disgusted face. âCâmon bud you gotta eat them.â Rafeâs trying to shovel them into his mouth but Felix moves his head. âNo. Miss doesnât make me.â Rafeâs eye twitches at the mention of your nickname. âWell Iâm not Miss, Iâm dad. Which means what I say goâs, now eat your veggies.âÂ
For ten months Rafe has heard how you donât make him do this or you let him do that. He honestly had enough after Feliz threw a tantrum so he didnât have to go to bed. The following day he went into the center ready to have Felix switched to another worker. But as he was waiting for the director to talk to him he watched as you interacted with the kids. They all seemed to love you, hanging on to every word you said.
Then there was his little boy.
Felix clung to you like velcro. Wherever you went he followed close behind, holding on the back of your shirt. Not once did you get mad or pull him off of you. In fact you got the kids sentled with ease like it was second nature. In his 32 years of life he has never seen someone be so natural with kids. What really got him was seeing you read to Felix. His baby boy was curled in your lap with your arms wrapped around him. If he didnât know any better it would look like a mother with her son.
He just watches as Felix babbles to you and you canât help but seem excited. You effortlessly make him laugh and itâs mesmerizing. âMr. Cameron. You wanted to see me.â The director is standing in front of him now but he keeps staring at you. âActually I changed my mind. Iâll see you at pick up.â With that he got up and walked out the building with a sense of determination.
At pick up he waited until all of the kids were gone before going to get Felix. âHi sorry my meeting ran late.â He apologizes to you, liking the way you smile up at him. âHey buddy, how was your day?â Felix jumps in his arms, giving him a big hug before looking at you. âMade drawings.â Rafe looks at you with an amused look which you match. âHe was a real picasso. You should be proud, you got a good one.âÂ
Your voice is soft, making you seem more approachable. âIâm Rafe. Donât think weâve really met.â You shake his hand telling him your name. âI was actually wondering something.â Rafe examines your features waiting to see your reaction. âIs everything all right Mr. Cameron?â Your eyes stare up at him and they look so innocent. You have to be young, if heâs guessing maybe 19 or 20.Â
âYeah but I wanted to offer you a better position. Come work for me. Felix is obsessed with you and I think youâd be good for him.â Youâre taken back by his request. âIâm sorry Mr. Cameron but I canât just leave my job.â The next excuse is ready to fly out of your mouth but it stops when you hear his voice. âRafe, call me Rafe. Iâll triple your pay and you can move into the guest bedroom.â
Triple pay and a free room? This is a great deal and you donât know if you should turn it down. You do need the money as you help your parents with your younger siblings. Not to mention you really love Felix. The boy is like your shadow and youâve grown fond of him. His little eyes stare at you as if heâs waiting for your answer as well. His blue eyes are a perfect match to his fathers. But you think Rafe has specks of gold in them, making them even more beautiful.
âWhy me?â Rafe shifts Felix to the other side of him. âHe wonât stop talking about you. I want the best care for him. You wouldnât be able to do that while watching other kids, so hereâs my solution.â Lie. He wants to see you in his house. He wants to come home to see you playing with his son, greeting him from his long day of work. The more he thinks about it the more he believes this is for himself. Looking at you he knows this is for himself more than Felix.
âOkay.â
âĄâĄâĄâĄâĄ
Youâve been working for Rafe for seven months now. If you are being honest itâs really great. Felix is super chill so you get to just have fun all of the time. The pay is amazing, even after you talked him into paying you normally. The house is fancy and you get to experience what the kook life feels like. Overall you would say things were great. But there was one issue you really haven't grasped.
Rafe is fucking hot.
Not any normal type of hot but DILF Iâd make him a dad again kind of hot. You canât tell if itâs a pro or con of the job. Usually you would say it was a pro because you got to see him everyday. But the downside is heâs your boss who probably looks at you like a kid. Itâs not like you are. Youâre 20. Heâs only twelve years older than you, that shouldnât be a problem. But you guess it wouldnât be professional and you need the job.
Itâs not like he makes it easy on you. Every morning he goes on a run coming back with his shirt off, wiping the sweat off his forehead. Then he likes to make his way over to the kitchen where you are to chug water as he asks you what the plans of the day are. You canât count how many times your eyes drifted to his abs or how many times you lost your train of thought. He always sends you a wink before heading off to shower. Leaving you in the kitchen trying to stop yourself from following him.
Then thereâs the time where he walked around the house in the tightest pair of briefs. The outline of his dick prominent as he passed you. You almost fell to your knees right then and there. There have been little moments where you catch him staring at you or checking you out. To be fair you started to dress nicer, noticing he likes it when you do. This even led to small touches.
It started with a hand on your lower back when he passed by. Everytime his fingers would find a way to lift your shirt slightly. Until one day his hand was just touching your bare back, sending shockwaves through your system. Itâs like every chance he gets his hands have to be on you. Not to mention the gifts heâs been giving you.
He had come home one day after going into the office with a box of chocolates. You gushed how they were your favorite and now they magically appear in your room every week. Then thereâs the shopping sprees. For the past two weeks heâs been bringing you to the main land on Saturdayâs under the pretense of getting this for Felix. But as you are shopping around you end up in some of your favorite stores. As if he doesnât do enough for you, he encourages you to get whatever you want. Rafe just swipes his card not even caring what the total was. You were being spoiled in every way.
The attention has been getting to your head. It makes you feel special thinking that he cares about you. It also doesnât help when he doesnât correct people when they think the three of you are a family.Â
You were rummaging through Felixâs bag trying to find the snacks that he likes. Heâs been getting fidgety and maybe a snack would help keep him occupied. âDonât worry about it. We can just go to the restaurant down the street. He gets food and time to relax.â You let out a sigh feeling bad that you may have forgotten to pack the snacks. âI swore I packed them before we left.â
You keep moving things around hoping theyâll pop up. âDaddy, eat.â Felixâs little voice grapes your attention. Giving up, you sling the bag over your shoulder again. Rafe picks him up, kissing the top of his head as he throws an arm around your shoulder. âI know bud. Weâre going to go eat right now, right?â He looks at you so you could agree. Nodding your head you tickle Felix, kissing the hand he tries to use to push you away. His laugh is contagious, making the two of you let out your own. âLetâs get some food into that tummy, little man.â The three of you were wrapped up in your own world you didnât see the lady watching.
âYou have a beautiful family. You must be very proud.â She has a soft smile, eyes filled with joy as she watches you. Rafe responds before you can correct her mistake. âThank you. I couldnât be happier.â
Ever since then thereâs been an energy around the two of you. Itâs like the wall you two kept up were starting to crumble. Rafe was constantly texting you when he was actually in the office instead of working from home. Letting you know that he missed you and Felix or saying he canât wait to go home to the two of you. Every message made you feel butterflies that didnât help you stay neutral. You really hit your breaking point three days away.Â
Rafe had worked late today and Felix was already in bed. When you put him to bed he was already half asleep. But when you were closing the door you heard him call out to you. âNight mommy. Love you.â You had been thinking over the words when Rafe got home. He had found you in the kitchen, leaning over the counter with your back to him as you ate ice cream. âHey. Sorry the meeting ran late so everything was pushed back.â He loosens up his tie, taking it off expecting you to answer but you don't.
He walks up behind you, his hands finding your hips. âWhatâs wrong baby?â The close proximity would normally send tingles down your spine but it isnât. âFelix called me mom today.â Rafe freezes behind you for a second. He knew that his son loved you but he didnât realize how deep that love actually went. Itâs honestly not like he didnât see it coming. The three of you have been practically playing the part of a family since you started.
He leans his head on your shoulder and kisses it. The action a new addition to the others heâs picked up over the months. âWell youâve been a big part of his life, our lives. He wouldnât be wrong to see you that way.â You turned in his arms staring up into his eyes. âHe wouldnât?â Rafe places his forehead on yours, brushing your nose with his. âNo baby he wouldnât. But how does it make you feel?â His eyes are closed, enjoying being this close to you. His hands are squeezing your hips, fingers spreading themselves under your shirt. âI guess it made me happy and confused. I just donât want to hurt him.â
Your hands move their way up his arms, finding his shoulders before the hair at the nape of his neck. This is the closest the two of you have been. It doesnât feel like a boss with their employee anymore. âWe wonât.â Thatâs all he says to you before heâs kissing you with an intensity youâve never seen. His lips are crashing onto yours, emotions spilling from him to you. The kiss is making your head spin so much you didnât even realize he had lifted you to the counter.
He slots himself between your thighs, slowly moving his hips into yours. The friction makes you through your head back giving him the chance to kiss the exposed skiing of your neck. Then as if the world was playing some cruel joke it all went away. âDaddy!â Felixâs voice echoes through the halls. Rafe pulls away, his head resting on your chest as you two catch your breath. âHe mustâve had a nightmare again.â He places a kiss to your skin detaching himself to go check on the boy. âIâll go make sure heâs okay.â His right hand grabs the back of your neck and brings you in for one last kiss before heading out of the room.Â
That was the last time you got to be with him alone.
The next morning you woke up happier than usual. Only for you to get downstairs and see a suitcase by the door. Making your way to the kitchen you see Rafe already having breakfast with Felix. âHey.â The two boys look at you and smile. They have the same exact one making your heart ache a little. âDaddyâs leaving.â You give Felix a sad/shocked face before turning to look at Rafe. âOh he is?â Rafeâs eyes deflect from yours, feeling as if he was under inspection. âYeah, just for a couple of days. They called me this morning and I canât pass up this deal.â You just nodded, grabbing the extra prepared plate to eat yourself.Â
âWell I guess itâs just you and me, little man.â The rest of breakfast was awkward. Rafe was trying to talk to you but you only focused on Felix. Then after Rafe said his goodbyes. âBye buddy Iâll see you when I get back.â Felix hugged him tight before running off, leaving the two of you alone. âI swear I didnât know about this last night.â You crossed your arms. âItâs fine I get it.â Rafe winces at your tone, not liking how it didnât sound like you.Â
He grabbed your waist pulling you closer. âPromise when I get back Iâll make it up to you. Take care of our boy. Iâll see you in a few days.â He pecked your lips before getting his bag and leaving. Our boy. You may be sad that heâs leaving you for a few days but how can you be upset? He just implied Felix was your boy and you couldnât be happier. Guess youâll just have to wait for him.
Today has been a long day. Felix had cried all day asking for his daddy, wanting to seek comfort in Rafe. You were woken up to the choked sobs of Felix telling you he didnât feel good before throwing up everywhere. The day was spent cleaning your room as Felix sleeps in your bed. Every few hours you took his temperature to see that it was still normal but slightly raised. Rafe didnât seem too concerned saying he may have eaten something that upset his stomach.
By the time it hit nine both of you were both knocked out in your bed. The tv plays an episode of Bluey, the background noise easing you two into a deep sleep. The front door opens, Rafe lugging his things in. âIâm home.â Rafe looks around to see no lights on besides the night lights for Felix. He checks Felixâs room only to see no one in there. The next room he checks is his. Sometimes Felix will sneak into his room and cuddle him to fall back asleep. He expected to see him there but when he didnât he started to panic. Rushing to your room, he swings the door open, freezing when it does.
There you were with his baby boy, holding him to your side as you both slept. His heart rate races as he watches the two of you. Quickly he gets ready for the night, taking a shower and getting dressed. Slowly he makes his way back to your room and slots himself on the other side of the sleepy boy. For a few minutes he convinces himself this is how it always was. You, him and Felix.
In the morning when you woke up, you stretched in bed noticing that a certain someone was missing. You shoot up from the bed worried that Felix may have gotten out. In your groggy state you see a tall figure walking into your room. Now you're scared someone broke in. âEasy there. I got my sister to watch Felix since he was feeling better.â You rub your eyes trying to see if you are dreaming. âRafe? What are you doing here?â He pushes you back to the bed and sets a plate on the table next to you.
âTaking care of you.â He kisses your check. âThank you for taking care of him.â His lips skid across your skin, kissing the corner of your mouth. âDid you mean it?â He pulls back to look at you. âHuh?â You avert your eyes, scared of what the answer might be. âThe other night when you said Felix wouldnât be wrong for calling me mom.â The corner of his mouth lifts, a hand cupping your check. âYeah baby I meant it.â
You crush your lips to his, throwing all caution to the wind. He meets you with the same fever. The kiss is different from the one in the kitchen. It feels like there isnât a rush, just an excitement to explore each other. Which is exactly what Rafe wants to do. He pushes you back, his lips making their way to every inch of your skin. A moan slips your lips when he finds the sweet spot on your neck.Â
Before you know it your sleep shirt is on the floor, his own following along. âGod youâre fucking beautiful.â You blush under his gaze, hands pulling down his pants. Rafeâs lips move lower, placing sloppy kisses over your chest. Sucking a nipple into his mouth, he takes your shorts off. His middle finger slips through your folds feeling how wet you are. An involuntary moan leaves his throat. âWhoâs making you this wet baby?â You squirm under him, squeezing his finger as it glides into you. When you donât say anything he pulls away.Â
The hand that was just in you grabs your face forcing you to look at him. âAnswer me.â Your eyes snap open, meeting his blue ones. âYou, Rafe.â He smirks at you, lowering himself once again. As heâs face to face with your pussy he smirks up at you. âThatâs right baby. Donât forget it.â His lips wrap around your clit sucking hard as he moves his hand to pump his fingers in you. His fingers are long and thick. Everytime they pump back into you, they curl hitting your g-spot.Â
It didnât take long until you were pushed over the edge. Your legs trembled locking around his head. His left arm wraps around your hips, keeping you in place as he keeps devouring you. Even though you are over stimulated he keeps going until another orgasim is rushing through you. When he finally came up for air you were laid out on the bed catching your breath. He kisses up your stomach until he reaches your lips. âHow you feeling?â You kiss him again, taking a hold of his dick to line him up. âReally good.â You tease his tip, rubbing it up and down your slit. Impatiently he pushes in, groaning at the feeling of you wrapped around him.
He gives you a moment to adjust before moving his hips. Slowly he rocks his hips back and forth. The feeling is overwhelming. If you thought his fingers were thick, having him inside you was a different feeling. Rafe takes a hold of your right leg, lifting it over his shoulder as the other rests on his hips. From this angle he feels more intense. âRafe, so good.â His forehead rests on your shoulder, hips rocking into yours. His pelvis hitting your clit each time. âFuck if you keep talking like that Iâm going to fill you up.â You clench around him, liking the thought more than youâll like to admit.Â
He bites your shoulder holding back a moan. âYouâd like that wouldnât you? Want me to fill you up baby?â You moan, the leg around his hip pulling him closer. Nodding your head you moan. âYeah. I need it.â You wined out. His hands tightly gripping your shoulders using it to pull you onto him. âDonât worry baby, Iâll fill you.â One of his hands moves down to your stomach, sprawling his finger out.
âMaybe Iâll fuck a baby into you. Make you a mom and give Felix a sibling.â You let out a loud moan at his words. Nail markers litter his back as you keep clawing at it to keep yourself grounded. âPlease.â He keeps fucking you but his movements are starting to stutter. His hips lose their movement as he starts to reach his peak. âPlease what? Say it and Iâll give it to you.â Your mouth gaps open, sucking in air as you feel like you're suffocating. âSay it. I need you to say it.â
The tone of his voice breaks you. âFill me please. I want you to fuck a baby in me.â His eyes meet yours. âPlease Rafe.â His mouth drops open, a moan escaping. âAh fuck.â The warmth of his cum filling you triggers your third orgasim of the night. The two of you come down, holding each other. A few minutes go by and he finally detaches himself from you. Laying next to you Rafe turns to look at you. âYou know I think we may need to do that again.â He leans over you to peck your lips. âOh yeah?â You giggle. He nods, kissing you again.Â
âDonât think it worked. Gonna have to fill you until we know it did.â
#rafe cameron#rafe x reader#rafe obx#rafe x you#rafe cameron smut#rafe smut#outer banks smut#drew starkey smut#obx
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