Anger and Regret
okay last one and I promise the next thing I post will be something freshly written again!!
request was this:
angst hurt/comfort request from tonight’s west ham game to cheer us up? 🙃 where reader and leah have been dating for some time but long distance, then reader just recently transferred to west ham and in the game against each other reader scored a hat trick putting west ham in the lead but leah is so angry (mostly cause it was her first time in the starting line up and she was disappointed) and she takes it out on the reader and reader is so sad cause she just wants her gf to be proud of her 🙃
Angst, comfort and happy ending all in one
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Leah was fuming, having had to helplessly watch from the sideline as West Ham tore them a new one in the second half. She had been feeling proud at Alessias goal that gave them the lead. So as she got taken off the pitch at half time she was slightly relaxing. That quickly changed when you got put on - her girlfriend and one of the newest signings for WestHam, along with Kristie.
Both of you had switched from the US teams to the WSL for your partners and were therefore quite close. You were good, easily getting offers from Arsenal when you announced your departure from your old club - but Arsenal was stacked when it came to attacking players and therefore you had chosen West Ham instead, not wanting to rot on the bench. Leah hadn’t been too happy at your choice though she accepted it of course and she couldn’t deny that you really brought some new drive into the club, your goals enough to keep the team far away from the threatened relegation. Your girlfriend had been unbelievably proud to see it - now though, she was less amused when you kept banging goal after goal into the net, right past Manus fingertips.
The genuinely impressed comment from Beth at your hat trick when it was 3:1 for WestHam at the end of the game did nothing to improve Leah’s mood in the slightest, incredibly upset with herself for not getting this absolutely crucial win.
So, when later on in the tunnel you grabbed your girlfriends wrist wanting to both comfort her and also see her reaction at your hat trick, she pulled her hand back like she’d been burned. You were surprised at her next words, used to Leah being extremely competitive but usually she would just sulk and not get outright mean.
“Came to gloat?”
A frown on your face you tried to reach out for her hand again, only to be rejected once more as she took a step back.
“I didn’t want to gloat, I just wanted to check on you Leah.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t need your pity.”
Feeling the sting at how cold your girlfriend sounded you tried to remind yourself that she was a really sore loser and you had known that when you started dating her. This was nothing personal.
“Leah come on, we aren’t threatening you that much, it’s just special that we were fighting for relegation and now we beat someone who’s in the top 3.”
“Half our team has just recovered from an acl, it’s really not that special.” Leah’s voice had a bite in it that you really weren’t used to, your girlfriend usually super sweet and especially super proud whenever you’d score.
You bit your lip, trying not to say anything to upset her further and nodded, eyes on the ground.
When Leah didn’t say anything else you sighed, realising that it’d probably be better to go and celebrate with your teammates, Leah was definitively not in the mood to talk to you. “Guess I’ll see you later Leah.”
She barely hummed and you tried to suppress your tears as you quickly walked to the bathroom, not wanting to break down in front of your new team. You had hoped that Leah would just concentrate on the fact that you had scored - a hat trick as well - and wouldn’t focus on you beating her beloved team. Seemed like she just couldn’t do that right now.
Thankfully you managed to calm down enough that you could keep yourself from actually crying, definitely not willing to talk about the fight and your girlfriend’s treatment of you right now to anyone who would ask about your tears.
Walking into the changing room Kristie was one of the first ones to jump on you, nearly taking you to the ground. Everyone was talking excitedly, happy about beating Arsenal and now taking the ninth place and even though you were still disappointed and sad at how Leah had reacted, you made sure to put on a smile, not wanting to grab anyone’s attention.
Thankfully nobody had the time to celebrate since training was starting up again tomorrow and you were all exhausted, so you didn’t have to put on a happy face for too long, getting taken to your and Leah’s shared apartment by Kristie who wanted to visit Sam now anyway.
You were glad when you were finally alone, Leah apparently not home yet. You took a shower and then just let it out, sobbing into your pillow. Sad about how the day had went, sad that you and Leah weren’t on the same team and were therefore not rooting for the same one, sad that Leah wasn’t able to just put the rivalry aside for once and be happy for you and sad that you scored a hat trick and instead of being happy it was now overshadowed by your girlfriends reaction.
Meanwhile Leah was still in the changing room, having taken an eternity to shower and get changed and now slowly putting her last stuff in her bag.
“Oi.” Katie appeared, having watched the game from the sidelines because of her last yellow card. “Where’s the missus?”
“With her team.”
Katie didn’t seem to notice that something was up, happily continuing to chat.
“Ya know, I’d be so proud if that was my girlfriend. Really signed someone good there. Sucks for us of course but at least now they should be save from relegation.” She opened the door and took a playful bow as Leah just marched through, wanting to get home and be alone finally.
Leah was silently walking next to her as Katie continued to blabber, a bit lost in her own thoughts.
Katie’s next words pulled her out it: “I’m happy you took it well.” She gave her a pat on the shoulder. “She moved here just for you, it’s nice that you two can healthily deal with one person winning and one person losing.”
With that she bid her goodbye and was gone.
As Leah sat in her car, the 20 minute drive home had her overthinking her earlier actions. If only Katie knew that she hadn’t put the rivalry aside at all. She had been quite mean about it too, cringing internally at how she had used the acls as an excuse. Speeding up slightly, she prayed that you would be home and hadn’t gone out with the team, wanting to apologise for her behaviour.
You were indeed home, she discovered. But you were asleep, laying in your shared bed, a few tissues laying around and your eyes swollen, some tear tracks still visible on your face. Leah’s heart broke at the sight, feeling terrible at how she had treated you.
So, determined to make it right once you woke up, she hopped right back into her car and to the flower shop, getting you a big bouquet. She also got your favourite ice cream and some food for breakfast tomorrow, knowing that she couldn’t cook to save her life but also not wanting you to do it after she had already ruined your day.
Back home she checked on you quickly who was still laying there and sleeping peacefully. Leah removed the tissues around you and then placed water and an ibuprofen on the nightstand. You always got terrible headaches from crying and it looked like you’d been crying a lot so you’d probably need it. She had also placed two cooling pads in the fridge, knowing that you’d be annoyed at how swollen your eyes would be the next day.
She was very careful when she finally slipped into bed next to you, the flowers in a vase on the table along with the plates already set for breakfast tomorrow. Gently, so you wouldn’t wake up, she pulled you into her arms, giving your still stained cheeks a soft kiss before drifting off as well.
The next morning your head was pounding, sitting up with a groan at the pain. You were surprised to find the water and pill on your nightstand, smiling softly at the sight of Leah with very messy hair next to you, glad that she had come home and apparently forgiven you for making Arsenal lose.
You quietly got up and went to the bathroom, ready to assess the damage that the tears had caused. It was truly awful, you had cried on and off for a few hours, just letting the whole stress of this season out and the result was incredibly swollen eyes that still had a red rim along with blotchy skin.
You sighed, deciding to wash your face with cold water and then carefully dried it with a towel. Since your view was obstructed you nearly jumped a feet in the air when Leah’s hands suddenly wrapped around you from behind, pressing herself into you.
Slowly lowering the towel from your eyes you met Leah’s in the mirror, her stomach turning at just how clear it was that you’d been crying.
She buried herself into your neck, glad that you let her.
“I’m really sorry for my behaviour, I truly have no excuse. And I’m terribly sorry that I made you cry, I really didn’t mean to.”
Heart softening quickly at her words muffled into the embrace you leaned back into her more, twisting your neck so you could give her a kiss.
“It’s alright. Just don’t let the rivalry get to your head next time, yeah?”
Leah nodded though it looked like she was holding something back so with a slight furrow of your brows you turned in her arms and gently grabbed her face so she’d look at you.
“What’s wrong?”
Leah swallowed hard, eyes still avoiding looking at you while she spoke.
“It wasn’t really about the rivalry, I just.. I’ve just come back from my acl and it already feels like all the pressure is on me. I see how people talk about Putellas and how she’s lost her touch after her acl and just isn’t that good anymore and I’m terrified that people are going to say this about me. It’s the first game that I’ve started in as captain since the injury and I just wanted to be good.”
You frowned at her words. Your girlfriend was always quite hard on herself but you hadn’t realised just how bad it was. Gently pulling her into a hug, you tried to comfort her by rubbing her back before pulling away and answering her.
“There’s always going to be someone who thinks you should have done better. Nobody who actually plays football and especially nobody who has ever done their acl will blame you for yesterday. It went great in the first half, you had the 1:0 lead and then you got subbed off and suddenly we were winning. That seems more like they shouldn’t have taken you off.” Leah chuckled at your words, feeling a lot lighter now that she had told you that she was scared.
You gave her another hug, tightly squeezing her.
“What someone online says really doesn’t matter. You need to stop looking at that stuff.”
Leah nodded in agreement, taking a deep breath, relieved that it was out and relieved that you were not mad at her apparently.
You stepped back slightly and offered her a hand: “Come on, I need an ice pack for my eyes and then I’ll make you breakfast.”
Leah grinned before grabbing you around your waist and carrying you downstairs, ignoring you protesting and trying to squirm out of her grip, forever annoyed that your girlfriend could just easily take you wherever which she loved to do simply to get on your nerves.
Placing you right in front of the fridge, she opened it, pulling out the almost done breakfast she would just have to reheat and the two ice packs for your eyes she had already put in yesterday for you. You smiled at her, softening at how your girlfriend had already known what you would need now.
Your smile widened when she showed you the ice cream and then the already set table with the flowers on it, pulling her into a deep kiss as a thank you.
Leah pulled away first, slightly breathless. “I’m sorry again. I’ll do better next time, I promise.”
You nodded, though you couldn’t resist teasing her a bit:
“Next time I beat your ass again?”
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Love Untold (OT8 x F! Reader)
Chapter 23
Paring: BangChan x Y/N
Genre: smut
Warnings: 18+, blowjob, overstimulation
Word Count: 3873
Masterlist
Due to the work of your parents, you are forcet to constantly move. However, this time moving houses let to interesting and unusual events. You met 8 handsome boys at school and somehow you managed to move in with them. How will your fate go?
……………………………..
Your parents' text messages were becoming more and more persistent. It was getting harder and harder for you to hide it from the boys. It was becoming increasingly difficult for you to keep your emotions in check. You often locked yourself in your room, covered yourself with a blanket and cried. You felt powerless, you were afraid that you would have to go back to the people who hurt you so much.
And today was just such a day when you felt particularly shitty. Tonight was sleepless and hard. There was a huge confusion in your mind, your parents' messages showed that they were getting closer to finding you. You didn't know who to turn to. Contact with Sebastian seemed too risky since your parents could control him. But you also didn't want to bother any of the boys. After all, they had enough of their own problems.
You looked lazily at your phone, it was 2 p.m. You decided it was the right time to finally get out of bed and leave the room where you had been staying for several days. You put on some stretched out sweatpants and tied your hair in a messy bun. You didn't pay attention to your appearance at all, you didn't care if you looked beautiful or like a total bum.
You reluctantly left the room, blinded by the bright light that wasn't in your room. Squinting slightly, you headed towards the kitchen to eat whatever you could find in the fridge. All the time you were locked in your room, you weren't eating well, in fact, you could almost say you weren't eating at all.
You were only one thing away from starving yourself because Minho brought you home-cooked meals every day. The boy must have guessed that something was wrong, because often when you didn't open the door for him, he left food at your door, with a note attached with some nice words written on it.
Stretching, you crossed the threshold of the living room, but stopped mid-step to look around the room. Surprise was evident on your face as your eyes fell on the walls decorated with colorful garlands and balloons, and the table groaning under the weight of gifts caught your attention.
You were confused and started to wonder what was happening and who this celebration was organized for. You repeated all the boys' birthdays in your head, but none of them had even close birthdays. Unless you couldn't keep track of time and got the dates wrong. However, before you could comprehend the situation, a group of your close friends entered the living room.
"Surprise!" They shouted at the same time, causing surprise to appear on your face.
The boys smiled brightly as they stood in front of you, ready to wish you a happy birthday.
As the initial shock left your body, you felt your entire body warm up from the warmth of their gesture.
"I completely forgot it was my birthday today!" You laughed lightly, still unable to believe what the boys had prepared. "Thank you very much. It makes my day.”
"No problem, Y/n! We're here to support you and make you feel special!" Chan smiled, coming to hug you.
“We will do everything to make you feel special every day. “ Minho placed a sweet kiss on your cheek.
Their words brought tears to your eyes. You were touched by their kind gesture, but you were also sad that you distanced yourself from them so much and they would steal the moon for you.
"We have prepared something special for you." Changbin added, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.
At this time, Felix entered the room, holding a huge handmade cake. This made you completely fall apart. You made a wish “ That this moment would last forever and that you would never have to leave them.” And you blew out the candle.
You lived this beautiful moment, you were happy to have them next to you. The boys were racing to give you gifts you never dreamed of having. You got a big teddy bear, beautiful perfume and much more. Finally, it was Hyunjin's turn, and he was the only one waiting calmly for his turn.
He brought you a beautifully packaged, quite large but narrow gift. You had absolutely no idea what it was. You carefully tore the decorative paper and saw a hand-painted picture of all 9 of you. Tears flooded your eyes again, you didn't know what to say, you were touched. You simply snuggled tightly into Hyunjin's chest, who hugged you back and gently rubbed your back, assuring you that your emotions were normal.
“I really don't know what to say. I love you guys. I love you so much. I'm sorry I've been acting like this lately, but my parents are getting me down. “ The smile on the boys' faces quickly turned into consternation. After all, you didn't tell them anything about the increasingly frequent threatening messages from your parents.
“Y/n, you can always tell us if something is bothering you. You know we will always listen to you and try our best to help you.” Han said, sitting down next to you and wrapping his arms around you.
You looked at all the boys who were waiting for your answer. You took a deep breath to collect your thoughts and began to speak.
“My parents started texting me more and more often, threatening to find me and force me to marry the guy who molested me at one of their parties. They chose him only because he is the son of an influential businessman who can strengthen their position on the market. Recently their messages have become more and more detailed and it seems to me that they are already close to finding me. I'm afraid they'll take me away from here and I'll never see you again." Just at the mention of your parents, you started shaking.
Han and Minho immediately hugged you, trying to calm you down. Of course, their touch, their warmth helped and I felt unpleasant shivers.
“You don't have to worry Y/n, we won't let anyone take you from us. Hyunjin assured you, gently circling your hand with his finger.
You looked around the room, seeing all the boys standing close to you, assuring you that everything would be okay, it made your body fill with peace and warmth. You trusted them, you trusted that they would do everything to make you feel good, like the most important person in the world. You were theirs and they were yours.
Your mood improved slightly and you decided that there was no point in wasting time and that you should celebrate.
“Let's celebrate! “ You screamed, and all eight of them followed you.
The next thing you could hear were cheers and the sounds of opening bottles and cans full of various alcohols echoing around the room. You had a great time listening to great music. The time for drinking new drinks made by Hyunjin was interrupted by dancing with each of the boys.
After a few drinks and you don't know how long, you danced with everyone except Chan, who was sitting on the couch watching you all. The boy was by far the most sober person in the entire house and he was having a great time watching his friends behave after drinking too much alcohol.
You had to admit that it must have looked funny when everyone was tripping over their feet, falling and rolling on the ground laughing. You felt like you were about halfway there when it came to your level of intoxication. The clear winner was Han, who was close to dying, but Minho was already taking care of him to prevent that from happening.
You took a few sips of another drink and felt a great need to dance with someone. You looked around the room and everyone seemed to be busy. Minho was keeping an eye on Han, Changbin was practicing with Felix, and Hyunjin was preparing more drinks for Jeongin and Seungmin. The only person who was doing nothing was Chan, who was sitting in the men's spread, leaning against the backrest, one hand between his legs. His posture exuded confidence.
He looked hot and you swore he had been staring at you for a long time. His gaze was deep and full of mystery, radiating sensuality, like the flames of a fire in the dark. His lips were slightly parted, revealing the spark of unbridled lust that danced in his eyes. His breathing was almost palpable, and every movement of his muscles focused your attention on him. He looked at you as if he wanted to dive into the ocean of your existence.
You took a few steps towards him, keeping your eyes on him and started dancing. It wasn't a very difficult dance, you focused more on sensuality than skill. You squirmed to the rhythm of the music, gently pulling up your shirt every now and then, exposing your belly.
Chan wasn't reacting the way you wanted him to, he was just looking at you, so you decided to get closer. Your movements were bold, full of sex appeal. You stood between his legs, turned your back to him and leaned up, exposing your round buttocks. You felt his hands on your thighs, moving slowly upwards. And after a while, your buttock burned from the boy's strong slap.
You turned to him, a slight smirk on his face. He licked his lips slowly, grabbing the back of your legs and pulling you towards him so that you were now straddling his lap. Chan squeezed your buttocks and you moved your hips to the rhythm of the music.
You were about to press a kiss to his plump, full lips when you felt the cold, sticky drink spread over your body. You jumped away from Chan and saw Han lying on the ground with an empty glass in his hand. Minho was already standing near him and trying to pick him up, apologizing to you at the same time.
You weren't mad at your friend, you even laughed when you noticed how bad his condition was. You wiped your face from the drops of drink running down your cheeks. You looked down at yourself and realized that you needed to take a bath, and quickly, before your hair got unresolvable tangles.
You went to your room, grabbed your towel and went to the bathroom. You took off your soaking wet clothes and stepped into the shower. Water flowed from the ceiling shower, creating a cascade of pearl drops that resounded melodiously in harmony with the gentle noise. Steam filled the bathroom, enveloping you in a mist of humidity, creating an intimate atmosphere.
You sank into yours, standing under the stream of warm water that enveloped you like a soothing touch. Your skin reacted to the heat, and you squinted slightly as the drops flowed down your body like pearls on velvet fabric. This pleasant feeling brought to mind the situation from a moment ago.
Thinking about Chan, you started caressing your body. Your hands glided over your skin and you melted into the pleasant massage that dissipated the tension and made you feel relaxed. You imagined that every movement of your hands was replaced by Chan's, as if he was standing with you in the shower and caressing your body.
You were starting to get aroused, heat filling every inch of your body. You slowly rubbed your thighs together, trying to satisfy your needs in any way possible. You placed two fingers in your mouth, swirling your tongue around them. Every now and then you sucked on one of them, you really wanted your fingers to be something else, but for now it had to be enough.
You moved your saliva-moistened fingers to your crotch. You painted in circular motions on your clit. Your mouth involuntarily opened in pleasure, letting out a soft moan. You grabbed your breast with your other hand and slowly started caressing it. A wave of pleasure spreads through your body. It was becoming increasingly difficult for you to take a full breath, and the drops of water hitting the ground drowned out your moans.
Your imagination began to work even better, behind your closed eyes you knew Chan was touching you where you liked it best. Drops of water replaced his lips as they glided over your body, leaving wet marks made with his tongue.
“Agh…Chan…Yes…that's right…” You couldn't hold back your words.
Suddenly you heard loud clapping. Your eyes immediately opened, moving towards the sound. Chan was standing in the doorway. He was leaning against the wall and shaking his head slightly. As usual, he had that smirk on his face.
“ Oh well, someone's having fun here. “He went inside and closed the door behind him.
His voice was calm, slightly throaty, pleasantly teasing to your ears. You were shocked and quickly stopped doing what you were just doing. You got out of the shower and wrapped yourself in a towel. The boy immediately pinned you to the wall, lifting your arms up. The quick movement caused your towel to slide to the ground.
You stood completely naked in front of him, his thigh between your legs, pressing against your still sensitive pussy. His body was close enough to you that you could feel the warmth radiating from it. The boy leaned towards you, closing the distance between you even more.
“Let me show you what a real pleasure is, baby girl.” He whispered into your ear, pressing even harder against your crotch.
His movement made you bite your lip, holding back the release of the moan that was hiding just beyond your lips. As soon as he loosened his grip, your hands fell limply to his shoulders. Your fingers dug into his neck as his full lips placed their first kiss on your neck.
You felt every move he made, every breath he took, with double the force. Your body was very sensitive to everything he did. You closed your eyes, completely surrendering to his touch. You drown in his kisses, which lightly tickle your neck. Chan knew exactly what to do to give you as much pleasure as possible.
His lips traveled all over your neck, leaving wet marks in their wake. Every now and then he would lightly suck on your neck and your body would respond with a beautiful arch, allowing him even better access. They don't want to let you rest for a moment, the boy ran his tongue along your collarbones, lightly biting your skin.
You dug your fingers into his skin even harder, to the point that your fingertips turned white. You couldn't hold back your moans any longer as his hands cupped the underside of your breasts, lifting them slightly. Before you knew it, his mouth was around your nipple, sucking on it. Moments later, Chan added his tongue, rubbing small circles around your hard nipple.
“Agh…Channie…” It fell from your lips, causing a smile to appear on Chan's face, but he didn't stop playing with your breasts. His tongue swirled nimbly between one nipple and the other, biting them from time to time.
While he was giving you an enormous amount of pleasure, you didn't want to be left indebted to him, so you slid one hand down his body, grabbed the bottom of his shirt, and in one swift movement, took it off him. The boy was now standing topless in front of you, and even though it wasn't the first time you had seen him without a shirt, you were always amazed by the sight of his well-built body.
The other hand went to his already swollen crotch. You moved it around, adapting to the rhythm Chan gave you with his tongue. The atmosphere in the bathroom was getting hotter and the air was getting thicker, making it difficult for you to breathe.
Finally, Chan stopped playing with your breasts and in a fluid movement he sat you down on the counter next to the sink. He moved between your legs, cupping your buttocks in his hands and planted a luscious kiss on your lips. Your tongues fought against each other in a romantic dance, your saliva mixing together in thin threads as you broke apart for a moment to breathe.
You felt that you wouldn't last long until Chan filled you from the inside, so you slightly pushed him away from you, knelt right in front of him and took off his pants and panties. The boy knew exactly what you were planning, he inserted his fingers between your hair and gripped it hard.
Without further ado, you took his cock into your mouth and deepthroated him. Tiny drops of tears formed in your eyes as Chan pushed his cock even harder down your throat. But you didn't move away, you just looked at him from below and started moving your head. Chan towered over you, looking at you with great desire, but at the same time carefully making sure he didn't overdo his movements.
His cock grew even bigger in your mouth, revealing his thick veins. Your legs were already starting to shake. You couldn't hold in any longer the arousal that was inside you. Your juices flowed out of you, more and more.
Chan lifted you off his lap, bending you down and resting you against the bathroom counter. You were facing the mirror and you were leaning towards it. Your breasts were pressed against the cold stone. The boy spread your legs, immediately placing the first, not too hard, slap on your buttock.
A heavy sigh escaped your lips, but you liked it. A moment later you felt Chan guide his fully erect cock towards your hole. You couldn't wait for him to fill you, for him to start fucking you. You were ready to fulfill every one of his deepest fantasies.
Chan immediately pushed his full length into you and waited for you to get used to his size. Only when he was sure everything was okay did he start moving. His movements were strong and confident, hitting your sweet spot perfectly. Your legs went slightly weak under you, but Chan quickly caught you and supported you so that you wouldn't run away from him.
The force of Chan's movements was so strong that you placed your hand on the mirror to give yourself better support. You were now looking directly at your reflection and seeing what you looked like when Chan was fucking you from behind.
Your earlier play had brought you close to your climax, and now you didn't have to wait long for a wave of pleasure to wash over your body. The orgasm was very strong, your whole body was shaking and you were glad that Chan was holding you because you would definitely fall.
The boy didn't stop moving his hips the whole time, maintaining the same rhythm. When you reached the end of your fulfillment, you felt another slap, this time harder, on your buttock. Your bottom stung and the raspberry red imprint of his hand appeared on it.
“I'll make you scream my name.” Chan's voice resonated in your ears, but you didn't fully understand what he said because the post-orgasmic emotions hadn't left you yet.
“Chan more, more please.” Was all you could say as your eyes rolled back in pleasure.
You lowered your head, but the boy grabbed your hair and pulled you up so you could see what he was doing to you.
“Look how you look while I'm fucking you. Watch you act like a whore, demanding more.” His movements became even more aggressive.
A few movements and your body experienced a pleasant feeling again. Your pussy throbbed and the feeling became almost unbearable. Two such intense orgasms in a matter of minutes exhausted you, but Chan had no intention of stopping.
“Chan I…I can't take it anymore.” Your voice was shaky and very quiet.
“Hold on for me just a little longer, baby girl.” He placed a few kisses along your spine and continued in the same rhythm again.
He gripped your hips even tighter, digging his fingers into your skin. His movements were strong, and he moved you to double the force of his blows to your sweet spot. After two powerful orgasms, you were overstimulated and your eyes were glazed over with tears gathering in them.
You don't know how long it took until you felt the pleasure approaching again, but for you it felt like an eternity. And your mirror image showed it perfectly. You were all wet, your hair was sticking to your forehead, your eyes were red and your body felt like jelly.
"Chhan! Agh! Chan! I can't handle it anymore. I can't stand it.” You shouted without lowering your voice at all.
“Just a moment. You can do it." His voice was airy and heavy, as if he was approaching fulfillment himself.
“Agh…Chan!!!” You couldn't take it any longer and a third orgasm took over your body.
Your walls tightened around Chan's cock as it began to throb inside you.
“Ugh…You're tightening on me. It feels so good.” The boy sped up his movements and a moment later you felt warm sperm shooting inside you.
Your legs were shaking mercilessly and felt like cotton. You dropped your body onto the cold countertop and were glad that Chan was holding you, because you would have been on the ground a long time ago. When he finished cumming inside you, he pulled out of you and placed a sweet kiss on your ass where his handprint was.
While you were recovering on the bathroom counter, Chan ran a bath for you. Once the water filled the tub, he lifted you up like a princess and gently placed you in, then sat down right behind you and wrapped his arms around you tenderly.
“Happy birthday Y/n. You did well.” He said, pulling you closer to him and placing a small kiss on your shoulder.
Your cheeks flushed and you don't know why you felt embarrassed.
“Thank you Chan.” You rested your head on his shoulder and snuggled in as much as you could.
You spent some time in the water, your fingers started to wrinkle and the water slowly became cold but you felt blissful. You immersed yourself in the moment, your moment together.
“Y/n.” You turned to face Chan. “Back to what you told us. You have nothing to worry about, we won't let you be taken away, you have nothing to worry about. You belong to us and your place is here, with us. We all love you and we won't give it up for anything in the world.” His words made you emotional and you placed a kiss on his lips.
Suddenly you heard a bang coming from behind the door and then you remembered that there were 7 very drunk guys in the living room. You quickly got out of the bathtub, got dressed and went to take care of the revolution that was taking place in the living room.
<- Part 22 | Part 24 ->
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One of the really irritating things about that 'oh QPR is just friendship, clearly you've never had friends, lmao loser' discourse is that (and there are many irritating things this is just one of them) even in QPRs that ARE just friendships with a new fancy label.... like...? There are many kinds of friendship that people just have because it's easier than not. And there are friendships that you think are going to be incredibly lasting, but then they date someone new and suddenly you're no longer a priority. The QPR label lets people attach an intentionality and priority to their friendship that really is not guaranteed..... like also not every QPR is this way etc etc but even when it is Just Friendship T M its still like entirely reasonable to want to use that label to signify that it isn't casual
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141 + reader
hc's when you five share the barracks together/just in general <3 (ooc, rushed my bad lmao, can be read platonically/romantically, reader is v close to them!!) kinda long oops 😩 might do a part 2 idk
nsfw version 🩷
there's a whole lot of testosterone and musk in the air when you're sharing living spaces with 4 men ‼️
all four men compete with each other to get your attention, even if it's unknowingly
whole lotta pouting when you're spending time with more man than the other, you're a great companion ;) and the army is lonely. they all need equal love and attention
speaking of, if you're smelling like one of them the other will immediately bundle you in his arms to put his scent on you instead and to cancel out the other (alpha behaviour 😵💫)
whole lotta flirting from each of them. they're all very intelligent soldiers, they know exactly what to say to get you going 😙
all of them adore the height difference with you. you get teased about it relentlessly (out of love obvi)
i don't think they're particularly messy men but ghost and gaz are the most cleanest, they like having their things in order and knowing where everything is
price is next because he's slumped with being captain so you'll see a lot of his paperwork around with coffee mugs from pulling all nighters
soap is more organised mess. it might look messy to you but he knows exactly where everything is
you, soap and gaz definitely have rap battles late at night. it starts of quiet but you'll usually hear price shouting at you three from his bedroom to stfu. ghost threatens to pull a grenade if you don't be quiet
assuming you're naturally a good cook, they'd all be so appreciative :") especially on bad days, your cooking reminds each of them of home (or lack of)
face masks! gaz would 100% be down to do them with you, soap would follow next because if gaz is doing it then he too???
ghost would roll his eyes, continuing polishing his guns with a rag "you ain't putting that muck on my face"
price would just look at you, shaking his head "got too much to do, sweetness"
but you're quite the convincer and all four men are on the floor of your bedroom, gossiping about the last mission with their preferred colour of face mask across their faces
assuming you're the only woman, they get very protective when you're hurt. soldiers get hurt from time to time but its different when it's you
"you alright, bonnie?" soap's gentle voice comes through your room as he hands you a warm mug of your fave drink
gaz had you wrapped in a big fluffy blanket, gently stroking your back
"who was it?" ghost's voice is firm, wanting to know who dared injured the youngest member of their team
"already got a handle on 'em" price follows, looking at the computer. whatever enemy dared to raise their hands on wished they'd be six feet under after all four men are done with them
you're the one each man needs when they're having a particularly bad day which are usually far in few between but sometimes it happens
gaz and soap are the types to seek you out, their faces settled in a troubled frown before they place their arms around you. no questions just yet, they just want to feel skin to skin for now. keeping them grounded before they can explain what happened. they're not looking for a fixer, just someone who'll listen
ghost and price are the type to isolate themselves for a while until it's night and then you'll find them gently knocking on your bedroom door and slipping inside, between your covers. their grip is strong, burying their faces deep into your neck whilst trying to wrap his arms as much as he can. these two won't talk much either, just looking to be held and stroked to calm down
ghost and soap are the type to show affection through lingering touches while gaz and price show affections through their words.
but speaking of hugs, each of them have their own special way they like to embrace
ghost thinks he's being slick but you realise just how touchstarved he really is, he gives hugs with his arms around your shoulders bringing you in to his chest. mostly because he's tall and broad but he likes how he can manhandle you from this position and smelling your scent <3
soap's the type to tackle you in a playful hug, maybe a spin to get a laugh out of you before he gently strokes your skin for a few seconds, a gentle kiss to your temple <3
price likes to hug from behind, resting his chin on your head while he looks at what you're doing. depending on you, his big arms are either wrapped on your waist or your shoulders <3
gaz gives side hugs because he likes linking his arm around your hips and he likes how you fit snugly into his body. and this way he can lean his head against yours and can bring you in closer with his other arm <3
all four can immediately smell you before you come in because they adore whatever perfume/spray you have
each of them would absolutely melt into pieces if you joined them/kept them company in what they were doing
and if they catch you in a towel after having a shower, best believe they're quickly walking back around to where they came from to help alleviate the growing... tent in their pants
lowkey kinda pervy 🫣 (never in a harmful way)
each of them have their strong points and would 100% train you in becoming stronger
even if you're a well established soldier, they all worry for your safety
price would teach you sniper techniques, ghost teaches you combat, gaz teaches you how to sharpen your aim and soap teaches you about explosives and how to construct/dismantle each of them
they take the training very seriously with you
a ton of cursing when their fave team loses lmaoo
if you're avid tea drinker, join the gaz/ghost/price club. if you're not, join the hater club with soap <3
ghost/gaz/soap will playfully fight with you, careful not to use their full strength and not to harm you. but it's so cute to them when you're struggling a little under them.
but when price scolds them in doing so, "i'm just helping in case there's an attack!"
if you're arguing against one of them, another will come to your defence. unless you're arguing all four then it's the silent treatment from you 🤭
all four of them melt when you call them by their real name instead of their callsign :")
ghost usually comes to you when his balaclava is broken and he'll keep you company as your fingers work their magic to the fabric, gently leaning against you as you speak to him
price will let you shape up his beard after you begging to do so and he grows to enjoy those tender moments
soap definitely calls for your help to shape up his mohawk, he trusts your hand to eye coordination above anyone elses
ghost will playfully ruffle your hair whenever you both pass each other
price gives you a gentle squeeze on the shoulder
gaz gives you a soft stroke on your arm or back whenever he's passing by
soap will gently tap his head against yours, not too hard to cause pain but just enough to know that he's there
but above all, the barracks you five share is definitely a safe space for each of them the second they come through the door <333
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porn star dancing - s.r.
spencer reid x fem bau reader
she wraps those hands around that pole, and she licks those lips and off we go…
warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI!! slight violence, mentions of a made up bau case, jealousy, dom!spencer, sub!reader, pole dancing, lap dance, grinding, kissing
based on porn star dancing by my darkest days
part two.
divider credit: @firefly-graphics
It has been an absolute whirlwind the last 4 months.
This was the first case having Spencer back in his full capacity. Emily had him stay behind with Penn for the first few cases once he was approved to return to the BAU, just to give him time to adjust before putting him out in the field again. He's changed since going to prison, but you couldn't blame him. You had no idea what he'd gone through on the inside, as there had been clear orders from higher up that while his investigation was going on the team couldn't visit him. You wrote him a letter every week he was locked up, to which they all remained unanswered. You couldn't be sure they were even reaching him, but they were never sent back as undelivered so you could only assume they reached him.
However you knew whatever occurred couldn't have been good, watching as a darkness had taken over your previously sweet and goofy best friend. Spencer seemed more withdrawn, more... angry. Despite all of that, your feelings for him have only seemed to triple since he's returned. But he's done a complete 180, he's quicker to lash out at anyone— especially you. You couldn't understand why he was so angry with you. He refused to talk to you more than absolutely necessary, which didn't help your already confused feelings. You had tried multiple times to get him to open up, which usually ended with him snapping at you to drop it and leaving the room.
You had been madly in love with the man for years, something he never picked up on. Despite how good of a profiler he was, as Emily so eloquently put it— his IQ of 187 was slashed to 60 when a pretty girl so much as looked at him. You had planned on telling him how you felt before he was locked up, but the universe was not on your side. The timing was never right, or your worries he didn't feel the same kept you from expressing how much you loved him. Spencer was your best friend, had been since you joined the team right after Gideon left. As much as you knew he should know about your feelings, you didn't want to ruin that special bond you had. But since he's returned it's like you don't exist to him. It hurt, and you knew from overhearing his conversations with Emily or Penn that he went through hell while locked up. So you decided to try and give him time and space, but it was becoming increasingly difficult for you. Patience was never one of your strong suits. You just wanted to hold him, comfort him— take away all that darkness the clouded his once bright eyes.
The current case has brought the team to Jefferson, Texas where a man was killing strippers and leaving their tortured corpses at local lovers lane. It was pretty brutal, and for Spencer's first case back in the field you had hoped he could handle it. As much as you wanted to give him the space he deserved, you were only human. So you had tried to make conversation with him on the jet, and again at the precinct but he kept blowing you off. You still couldn't wrap your head around why he suddenly hated you so much. But you tried to look past it and focus on the case at hand. Your feelings would have to wait, especially when people's lives were at stake.
There were 4 victims, and so far the only thing connecting them was their appearance and occupation at the few strip clubs in town. Besides the profile we had built, we didn't have many suspects to go off. He was a white male, late 20's-30's that frequented the local strip clubs. That made up for about half the town. He most likely had a previous criminal record, starting as a peeping tom before escalating to more heinous crimes. Due to his extensive torture of his victims, it was clear that the victims were surrogates for someone in the unsub's life. Your guess was his mother was a stripper, as he specifically sought out that occupation in his victims. The rage he showed these women was horrifying, and the way he dumped their bodies told the team he wanted to humiliate them. Being found naked and posed provocatively in a lover's lane was clearly a message. But the amount of dead ends and lack of sleep has made the entire team exhausted. Arriving back at the station the next morning, Prentiss seemed to have a new sense of purpose as she gathered everyone in the small conference room at the station where we had set up for the time being.
You were seated next to Spencer, a little surprised that the male didn't immediately get up and move once you took the empty seat next to him. Maybe that was progress? It was the closest you've been able to get to him in weeks, as he actively avoided you. But you tried not to put too much thought into it, as you didn't want to be let down once again. Turning your focus back to your unit chief, blowing on the cup of hot coffee in your hands. Prentiss looked somewhat hopeful as she addressed everyone, curious as to if she'd found a lead over the previous night.
"So, I know we've been at a dead end the past couple of days. But after thinking things through last night... I have an idea."
Prentiss crosses her arms over her chest, leaning against one of the desks.
"After discussing it in length last night with Rossi, we think we should send in some agents to go undercover at the club."
No one said anything, but you couldn't help but think it was a good idea. That is until the next words left Prentiss' mouth.
"y/l/n, we're sending you in."
You nearly spit out the coffee that you had just sipped, your eyes widening in shock.
"You mean... as a stripper?"
Prentiss nodded, to which a wolf whistle sounded in the room. You quickly shot a glare Alvez's way, to which he just wiggled his eyebrows in response. You felt Spencer tense up beside you, but you couldn't look at him. Why would he care anyway?
"W-Why me? I mean I'm not..."
Your words trail off, not wanting to finish that sentence. You? Sexy? That's not a word you would've used to describe yourself. As you had never felt very confident about your body, so it is quite the shock that you would be chosen for something like this. Strippers required some ounce of confidence to do that job...
"You fit his type... appearance and age wise. You're really the only one we could send it for this."
Emily explained, which did make sense. You were the youngest on the team, and unfortunately did fit the physical description of what the unsub seemed to like. Minus the occupation of course. While you had gone undercover before, it was never as this central of a role. It made you nervous, not wanting to let the team or anyone else down.
"This is unethical, how can we even be sure the unsub will fall for it? She’s never gone undercover like that before Prentiss.”
Spencer's voice was harsh, causing you to wince slightly. His words hurt, now knowing just how little he thought of you. How he expected that you couldn't be convincing enough to get the unsub under your thumb. You don't understand how or why prison turned him so cruel, made him despise you but that was no reason for him to treat you so terribly. You decided right then you'd prove to him just how capable you really are, how you will make Spencer Reid regret those words.
"No - I can do it."
Your tone is firm as you throw a glare his way, Prentiss beaming at you. Spencer's eyes were dark as he glared back, his jaw tense. He could be angry all he wanted, it wasn't his decision to make.
"Perfect, it's settled. Reid and Alvez we'll have you go into the club as well. Just to pose as customers. The rest of us will be posted outside the club. y/l/n, let's get you over to there to brief you for the night."
You quickly get up and follow Prentiss, leaving the conference room. Alvez whooped again as you both left the room, smacking his hand in a high five on the way out.
"Alright, give us a show y/l/n!"
You couldn't help the smirk from formed on your lips as you followed Prentiss out of the station. A plan beginning to form in your head, oh you'd give them a show alright.
You'd spent the remainder of the day at the club, meeting with a few of the other dancers there to get an idea of what the hell you were going to be doing. Despite the brave face you put on in front of the team, you were terrified. But if it meant getting one bad guy off the streets you'd happily shake your ass on stage. It honestly was a bit funny trying to watch you spin on the pole at first, thankful that only Emily saw you make a complete fool of yourself. But you eventually got the hang of it, it wasn't perfect but all you needed was enough to catch the unsub's attention and keep it.
However knowing Spencer would be there, just adds a whole other thrill to this experience. Even though he clearly didn't want anything to do with you, that didn't stop you from wanting to put on a show for him. Not only to prove to him just how capable you were of going undercover and catching this asshole. But to make him see exactly what he was missing out on, what he had been all these years. You ended up letting Luke in on your plan, who happily agreed to help in any way you needed. Once Reid had gone away you'd become extremely close friends, nothing more though. He had his eye on a certain tech goddess. Luke and Penn were really the only ones who got you through those terrible 3 months.
While you hadn't spoken to her since the decision was made, Penelope seemed to know your thoughts the moment Emily filled her in on the undercover detail. She was the first person you had ever told about your feelings for Spencer, which she thankfully kept to herself. But knowing Penn, she had to be involved in the choice of your outfit. A black lacy number with some deep violet pumps. They got you a lavender silk cover up to wear in the meantime, so at least you could try and feel more comfortable until the time came. You didn't exactly love the idea of all your coworkers seeing that much of your body, but it was for the greater good.
The women you had been working with all day were so kind, extremely willing to take you under their wing. Especially knowing you could help catch the bastard that had been hunting down their friends. They gave you as much advice as they could, even showing you how to give a proper lap dance. While you'd had plenty of sexual encounters before, that was something you'd never done. The closer it got to 11 PM, the more nervous you felt. Staring at yourself in the vanity mirror you almost couldn't believe the transformation you'd gone through in just a few hours. You looked... hot. Your hair was done in curls that cascaded down your back, simple winged liner and red lipstick with fluttery lashes.
It was more than you usually did for yourself, but you liked it. Not to mention the 'outfit' (if you could even call it that) hugged and accentuated all your curves. The girls even let you pick out the song you were dancing to. Porn Star Dancing... it definitely fit the situation. The girls were chatting excitedly to each other, nerves twisting in your stomach the later it got. Adjusting your hair to cover the ear piece, thankful that you would still able to be hear what was going on with the team. Hearing Spencer and Luke in your ear not long later, letting Emily know they were in positions and ready. There was a shot glass sitting in front of you, haven already taken one shot in an attempt to calm your nerves. You took one more with a grimace, the vodka sliding down your throat with a slight burn.
"You ready y/l/n?"
Prentiss asked over the headset, noticing as the other girls had slowly filed out onto the stage leaving you alone in the dressing room.
"As ready as I'll ever be."
You replied, standing up and slipping the silk robe off of you. Double checking yourself in the mirror, before unwrapping a lollipop and slipping it in your mouth. The girls had suggested it, sucking on candy, seemed to drive customers wild. You could use all the extra help you could get. Leaving the dressing room behind you made it to the curtains, taking a peek out to gage your surroundings. You could see Luke from the limited view, sitting up near the bar. The one you desperately craved to see wasn't in your line of sight, not yet anyway. Hearing the intro music for the song play you step out onto the stage. Walking in time with the beat, the other girls having taken the sides of the stage. Which put you front and center. You can do this. Taking a deep breath, wrapping your hands around the cool metal of the pole.
Kelly won't kiss my friend Kassandra.
Jessica won't play ball.
Mandy won't share her friend Miranda,
Doesn't anybody live at all?
You could feel the hungry gazes on you already, attempting to calm your nerves. The familiar lyrics of the song continued as you slowly twisted yourself around the pole. Your eyes scanning the audience of men, until they landed on him. He was sitting in the front row, dressed in a flannel shirt, white tank and jeans, much different then the Spencer you were used to. But he was playing a part too, a hick in a strip club. His eyes were unreadable in the darkness, but his body language told you he was tense. Feeling adrenaline shoot through you as his gaze followed your every move, feeling your confidence beginning to increase.
Amanda won't leave me empty-handed,
Got her number from a bathroom stall.
Brandy just got way too much baggage,
And that shit just gets old...
You could see the bills flying at the stage already, greedily grabbing some from a man with a beer belly who was closest to you. Stuffing them in your bra before continuing to spin around the pole as the music got to its chorus.
But I got a girl who can put on a show...
The dollar decides how far you can go with her...
You're utilizing all the moves the girls had taught you earlier, sliding your back down the pole until you reached the ground. Now on your hands and knees, crawling across the stage. Tossing your hair back, arching your back in the process. The men were flocking to the stage with bills clutched in their fists. You're quick to finish sucking on the lollipop before discarding it in one of the hungry men's mouth with a wink. You gladly let one of the other dancers take over as you rose to your feet once more, sliding some more money into the waistband of your panties.
She wraps those hands around that pole,
She licks those lips and off we go.
And she takes it off nice and slow,
'Cause that's porn star dancing...
You had a few goals here, the main one being getting the unsub's attention. The other was making Spencer Reid regret his recent actions over the past month. If his shitty behavior continued after tonight, you were done. As much as the thought of him no longer in your life hurt, you knew it wasn’t fair to yourself to keep pursuing something that had no end in sight. Using the multiple poles on the stage to your advantage, working your way to the stairs leading down from the stage. Another dancer following behind you, quickly finding the lap of a male in the front row. Prentiss told you to mingle with the guests, give a lap dance if you were comfortable doing so. However, there was only one lap you had intended to sit on tonight.
She don't play nice, she makes me beg.
And she drops that dress around her legs.
And I'm sitting right by the stage,
For this porn star dancing...
Many men had come up to you while you made your way over to him. One landing a slap on your ass in the process, sliding you a twenty dollar bill afterwards. While the unwelcome touches and all these eyes on you made you uncomfortable, his heated gaze was all you could focus on about in this moment. By the time you had finally reached him, you could tell he was done for. Spencer’s hazel eyes were full blown onyx, greedily drinking in the sight of you. Swinging your leg over him, climbing easily onto his lap. Your red lips went to his ear, teeth gently grazing along the lobe.
"Play along Dr. Reid."
Your freshly manicured nails dragged down his chest, hips grinding onto him almost too easily. His large hands found you hips, holding them still.
"What do you think you're doing?"
His tone was stern, and yet you couldn't help the giggle that escaped your lips. Quickly removing one of the hands from your hips to suck on his middle finger instead. Feeling the bulge growing beneath you from your actions, which is exactly the reaction you had hoped for.
"Giving a paying customer a lap dance..."
You reply once you had removed his finger from your mouth. Giving him another sultry look before switching around so your back was to him. His hands immediately started roaming your figure, as you continued to grind yourself against him as the song continued to play. Leaning your head back against his shoulder, feeling his breath tickling the skin of your cheek. Grabbing his roaming hands and bringing them to rest on your thighs. Spencer’s large hands felt hot against your skin, nearly moaning as they traveled up higher. Feeling how hard he was beneath you made feel more confident, knowing you had to stop this before it went too far.
As much as you didn’t want to, you stood back up between his legs, turning to face him once more. Your fingers aggressively grab the curls at the nape of his neck, tilting his face up to meet your gaze. The hungry look simmering in his eyes made you nearly clench your thighs together. But you stopped yourself, despite the growing heat between your thighs. Spencer doesn't have the control here... you do. Your lips are once again drawn to his ear, pressing a kiss on the way there, leaving a lipstick stain behind. You could feel his pulse racing under your lips, pride filling your chest knowing that you had this much of an effect on him.
"Now be a good boy and pay me for that dance."
He wordlessly pulls out a $50 dollar bill, much to your surprise. He's quick to slide it right between your breasts, his fingers lingering there a little longer than necessary. His touch made you shiver, but you didn’t let your confidence waver, he didn’t have the upper hand here. Spencer’s jaw was clenched, the bulge straining against his jeans. Another giggle slipping past your lips at how worked up you had gotten him. Only to leave him hanging. Good. He deserves to know how it feels to feel rejected and shoved aside. Blowing him a kiss you make your way back towards the stage, feeling his eyes following you the whole way. You resume dancing as the song changes, your eyes meeting Luke's as he gives you a small round of applause from his place at the bar. His eyes were wide, and he looked surprised but also very proud. Honestly you had surprised even yourself with your actions, not knowing you had it in you.
An almost unrecognizable confidence continues to fill you as you continue dancing, using the pole behind you to your advantage. You can tell Spencer is still watching you, without even having to look over at him. Feeling his gaze burning holes through your, the feeling exhilarating. But you were here to do your job, you try to remind yourself as you glance around the room in search of anyone suspicious. You hadn't noticed him right away, but besides Spencer he was the only one gazing at you with such a wicked look in their eyes. It gave you the chills, but not in the way you were feeling moments before. There was an underlying violence in his stare, in his whole stance. This had to be him, you could feel it in your gut. While your back is turned away from the crowd of males, you're quick to whisper into your mic.
"Man in the black jacket, AC/DC shirt, cowboy hat. Front row. He's right by you Reid."
As you turn back around you notice Luke moving from his position at the bar, getting closer to the stage as you hear voices in the headset asking to get a close up on him. You meet the man's eyes once more, a smile on your lips as he gets up towards the stage. He's coming right for you, playing directly into your hands. The male leans on the edge of the stage now, nearest to you. He beckons you over with his index finger, pulling out a wad of cash as you sink gracefully down to your knees, crawling over to him. Feeling his hot, stale breath on your face you try not make a face of disgust.
"What's your name sugar? You must be new."
His harsh eyes rake in your figure as you push your arms together, purposefully accentuating your breasts. Fluttering your lashes, pulling out all the physical stops to keep his attention focused on you. He had a thick southern accent, but it didn't sound the rest of the folks you'd heard since arriving here. From what you could gather he didn't seem like a local, but could easily blend in with the clientele that frequented this establishment.
"Lola."
You reply quickly, the name inspired by one of your favorite childhood characters. Lola Bunny. Hearing Prentiss in your ear, encouraging you further. You could see Luke and Spencer behind him, subtly moving closer, both making sure to keep a close eye on the male in front of you.
"That's a pretty name, how much for a private dance from ya?"
The question made your stomach drop immediately, knowing just what would happen if he got you alone. But the team wouldn't let it get that far, right? You hear Prentiss in your ear then, '$150 for a private dance. Just try to keep him talking.' He was attractive, you could admit that. That must have been why so many women were willing to be alone with him. But there was something off, your instincts warning you to stay far away.
"$150, do I get to know your name handsome?"
He chuckles, fingers reaching out to graze your arm. Goosebumps breaking out across your skin, but not in the way he thinks. You keep the flirty smile on your face, keeping your composure despite the way your stomach turned the more he looked at you.
"It's Jarek. How long until I can get that dance Lola?"
The way he said your fake name made the bile rise in your throat, but you quickly swallow it down. Leaning in towards him, your lips right by his ear. Judging by how much Spencer liked it when you did this, you knew it had to get him riled.
"Private dances start at 12:30... meet you in room 3."
Grabbing the cowboy hat off his head, setting it on your own before returning to your feet and walking off the stage, heading back toward the dressing rooms. Breathing a sigh of relief as soon as you know the male can no longer see you. The nausea subsiding the moment you were out of view of his wicked gaze.
"Good job y/l/n, we'll get that room ready. You gonna be okay to get a dance started?"
Once you were out of sight and in the dressing room, you're quick to remove the hat. Setting it on the vanity table and wrapping the silk robe around your frame.
"Yes. How long will I have to..."
You trailed off, taking your lower lip between your teeth. Waiting to hear Prentiss respond, nervously fiddling with the tie of the robe.
"Hopefully not long. Garcia is working on that name, since it's not so common we're hoping to find something before it'll get too far. Alvez, Reid, one of you ask the bartender about that guy. See if he's a regular or a drifter."
You nearly collapse on the chaise lounge, your feet already sore from the heels. Taking them off immediately, rubbing your feet and removing the money from your undergarments. You hear the beads in the doorframe move, alerting you that you're no longer alone. Glancing up to find none other then Spencer, his chest heaving as if he's run a marathon. You look at him questioningly, removing your earpiece and mic for the time being.
"You're not supposed to be back here Reid..."
You trail off, your voice nearly a whisper as he stalks towards you. Getting up slowly, trying to put some distance between the two of you. Walking until your back is flush against the bathroom door that's connected to the dressing room. Spencer doesn't stop though, not until your chests are touching, his large hand leaning against the door next to your head. He had that same desire reflecting in his eyes, the kind that makes you nearly tremble beneath him. A predator having found and caught his prey.
"That was quite a show angel..."
His voice is rough, almost angry as his other hand is now trailing down your side, fire licking your skin with each touch. It slips underneath the silk robe, grasping your thigh causing you to whimper slightly. Mentally cursed yourself for the slip up, seeing a small smirk tugging on his lips.
"I w-was just doing my job Reid."
You tried to sound confident, but all that previous confidence disappeared the moment he started touching you. Both of you knowing who was in charge now. He chuckled humorously, his fingertips tracing the skin of your thigh before lifting it up to wrap around his hip.
"Teasing me... was that your job love?"
Biting you lip, attempting to look anywhere but his beautiful face. Spencer wouldn't allow it, his hand leaving your thigh to keep your gazes level with each other. His eyes were darker than you'd ever seen them, the dominance he was exuding making you completely compliant under his rough hands.
"Look at me when I'm talking to you."
You could feel the wetness pooling in your panties, thanking the lord that they were dark enough to hide your arousal. At least for now. This wasn't the sweet, innocent Spencer that you had fallen in love with all those years ago. That version of him seemed long gone, and yet you couldn't find it in yourself to care when he was touching you like this. But you wanted to push him a little more though, desperate for more of a reaction. Keeping your gaze locked on his, just like he had wanted.
"Well if you didn't enjoy yourself I could've given Alvez a dance instead...."
The moment the words left your mouth you knew you were done for. The brunette grabbing your hips, lifting you up as he crashed his lips onto yours. You wrap your legs around his waist, fingers tangling in his curls as you hold him closer. The kiss was angry, urgent and yet... loving at the same time. It was something you had waited years for, since you had started at the BAU. Letting yourself grind your hips into his, earning you a delicious groan as he broke your lips apart. One of his hands managed to slip between your bodies, grabbing at your clothed breast. You couldn't stop the whine that left you, his large hands feeling every inch of skin he could reach. His eyes stayed locked onto yours, the hunger in them turning you into putty in his hands.
"Fuck, you feel so good angel."
The curse word sounded so foreign coming from him, and yet it only encouraged you more. Lifting your hips again, desperately wanting to feel more of him. Spencer let out a groan, which turned from one of pleasure into one of annoyance. You could tell he didn't want to stop, giving you a look as if to say behave. Spencer gently sets you back on your feet before clicking his earpiece back on. Your lipstick was smeared across his lips from the urgency of the kiss, smirking at the sight. He looked utterly wrecked already, but you couldn't imagine that you looked much better.
"I'm with her, she's safe. Does she really have to be alone with him? This doesn't seem like a good idea."
The concern in his tone made your heart flutter, hands tracing the little bit of skin exposed by the collar of his shirt. His expression was hard to read, watching you carefully as he spoke to Prentiss. As much as you didn't want to leave your little bubble, you both still had a job to do. The reality of that was starting to set in again.
"Understood. I'll get her prepped."
He switched off his mic again, tilting your chin up to give you another kiss. This one was more gentle, a flicker of the soft Spencer you knew. He pulled away too soon for your liking, a small pout forming on your swollen lips.
"Come on love, you owe a sleaze ball a dance."
His tone was laced with jealousy, something you'd never expected from Spencer up until this moment. He stepped back from you, leaving just enough room for you to scoot past him. But not enough so your bodies brushed against each other again. You wanted nothing more than to let him ravage your against that bathroom door, but it wasn't the time or place for that. With a small sigh you sat back down at the vanity, glancing at yourself in the reflection. Your own lipstick was smeared across your lips, hair tousled. You quickly grab a makeup wipe, removing the lipstick and opting for a clear lip gloss instead. The male was leaning against the door that you were previously pressed against, those hazel pools never leaving you. Turning around in your seat, grabbing a fresh makeup wipe and motioning him towards you.
"Come here Spence, I gotta clean you up too."
He followed your instructions, kneeling himself in between your open legs. You were now face to face, his height no longer towering over you. Gently pressing the wipe to his mouth, cleaning up the evidence of your heated exchange moments before. His previously tense features relaxed, the most you've seen since he's returned. A small smile gracing your features, happy to have been the reason for his relaxed state.
"We need to talk... once this is over."
He mumbled against the wipe, his hands resting on your thighs. Nodding in response, biting your lower lip as you finished cleaning him up. It was hard to think straight when he was touching you, but you needed to focus. You had to have a clear head going into this.
"What did Emily tell you?"
You threw the wipe into the trash bin, attempting to tame his curls that you had messed up moments before. His gaze had softened, the anger and urgency had subsided for the moment. The tender look he was giving you made your heart swell, desperately wishing you could stay here with him.
"They need you to provoke him, Garcia found him. From his current record and history... we think he's our guy. Unfortunately besides your hunch, we don't have enough to arrest him right now. We need more."
While it was relieving to hear you were correct... the thought of being alone with this guy made the nausea come rushing back. Spencer must have seen the look of panic cross your features, as he's quick to pull your into his arms.
"You'll be safe, we'll be on the other side of that wall. The team has cameras set up, the room is bugged. I'll be there if anything happens okay?"
His lips are at your ear as you bury your face into his neck, breathing him in. He smelled like coffee, cinnamon and books... completely Spencer. His scent, his touch was comforting but it wasn't enough to stop your heart from racing at what you were about to do. Give a potential serial killer a lap dance... you'd have anyone beat in a game of 2 truths and a lie.
"He's waiting... Let's get this over with."
You reluctantly pull away from his embrace, pulling the heels back on with a sigh. Spencer helps you to your feet, choosing to leave the silk robe on. Gives you something to work with, or stall with. Spencer grabbing the cowboy hat and setting it back on your head, leading you down the hall that leads to the private rooms. There are two entrances, one for the customers and one for the dancers. Once you reach the door with the number 3 and you feel like you could pass out. Spencer's hand on the small of your back being the only thing keeping you grounded. He slips a bracelet on your wrist, clasping it gently. You glance at him questioningly, eyes searching his. He dips his head down to your ear, whispering despite the loud bass around you.
"It's an emergency button. Press the back and hold it if you need us to come in there. But we'll be listening and watching okay?"
Letting out a sigh, you nod as he presses a kiss to your temple and a smack on your ass before entering the room next to you. The tenderness and erotic nature of both actions have your head reeling as you open the door. The room was lit just like the rest, color changing lights illuminating the male sitting in the chair. His eyes were guarded, a dangerous glint in them as he undressed you with his gaze.
Here we go.
taglist: @mshalfemptygirl @nomajdetective @will-grahams-eyes
thank you for reading! comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated 💞
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☆༉ — SATORU GOJO. pretty brown eyes.
about. gojo might be the one with the six eyes, but there’s nothing special about those. your brown eyes are real weapon, here.
warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! sfw, fluff, hurt comfort. slight hints to insomnia, idk how infinity works sorry, reader has brown eyes, afab!reader.
“you could kill me if you wanted to.”
it’s the dead of night when he whispers your name. though low in volume, his tongue curls around each syllable loud enough for you to hear him. “
“‘toru, what are you on about—” digging the heal of your palm into your eyes, you dislodge the crust from your lash line and groan. the red lines on your digital clock read sometime between three and four am— but the digits blur as your mind swims with sleep.
“your eyes. they’re so perfect.” a loving grin etches itself onto his face when you crack one open to look at him, masking over the exhaustion seeping from his pores and the anxiety that spikes in the sapphire pools of his own eyes. “you should be able to get away with anything because of them.”
“baby,” you reiterate and roll over to face him fully. gojo gets like this when he’s overworked and worried, when there’s something big on his mind you’re not quite sure you’d understand. you move to jab a thumb into his forehead, right between his brows to alleviate the ache in his skull but you don’t let your disappointment show when rough skin meets the dull buzz of his infinity.
you forget that his six eyes flow in the dark — that his blue eyes are not as blue as they seem. “you’re talking nonsense, it’s late. get some sleep.”
“my eyes. they could kill me if i worked too hard.”
satoru’s eyes are a lot stormier than most would expect, they can be dark and cold. like an angry ocean tired of tournament. they can be bright, full of hope and loving — you notice that change whenever he’s with your students. they hide behind the frame of his ability, the one that hardly ever turns off despite how it really could kill him.
his mind is always running, his body almost always on empty.
in the moonlight, you see a faint sliver of silver between the flecks of diamond and stormy skies.
he swipes a gentle thumb just over cheek yours to catch a fallen lash. “but yours,” gojo continues, voice thoughtful and low. tired above all else. “those pretty brown eyes…baby, they’re dangerous in a different way. beautiful in another that makes me feel safe. puts my mind at ease or somethin’. one look ‘nd I’d be doing anything for you,”
there the two of you are, face to face in the dark — cheeks pressed to pillows and heads under the covers as if you’re children shielding yourself from the world. creating the safe space to let satoru confess.
“if those pretty brown eyes were the last thing i got to see before i died. then i think i’d be okay.”
“don’t say that.” your face crumples and his infinity falls away as if gojo had been anticipating your touch, the buzz just shocking through your skin as you wrap your arms around his larger frame, pull his head down to your heart beating in your chest. “you’re not allowed to die, satoru. not yet.”
“i know.” for once he’s grateful he can’t see your eyes — he hates the way they shine when you cry.
“i need you.”
“i know.” he’s quiet. “i need you too.”
“then rest, you don’t have to keep watch.” gojo feels the shake in your lungs as you speak. you worry too much about him. but with your hand cascading through his soft locks, and the other squeezing him close he’s finding it hard to resist.
usually when he lays next to you, he’s stiff as a board, always anticipating whatever danger might come next. but the biggest threat to him of all is you, and those big brown bambi eyes of yours — the way they’re wet with love, shiny with tears because you adore satoru gojo. you care about him way too much for your own good.
those eyes of yours are convincingly treacherous , he can’t help but let his body sag and let go of his cursed technique while you rub his back and soothe him.
“you’re dangerous, yanno,” satoru grunts, lips dragging along your skin with every word. “especially when you look at me like that, with those puppy dog eyes…can’t say no to you.”
but you smile as he drifts off, his tall frame heavy against you — your lashes blinking soft against his forehead as you curl around him protectively. “i’d rather use them to get you to rest, rather than kill you. ‘toru.”
your words are wasted on deaf ears — his deep snore indicating that gojo is finally asleep, doing himself a favour and locking his pretty blue eyes away.
꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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miss sunshine
pre-outbreak Joel Miller x neighbor!reader [7.3k]
summary: He's always been out of reach. A fantasy. Joel was too much of everything—too handsome, too friendly, too una-fucking-vailable for any of you. Too bad his kid adores you. (What a blessing.) Too bad she uses you as a scapegoat and lands him right on his door. One bottle of wine, and Joel shows you he might be closer than you thought.
📝 I wanted to try something different. Less hurt, less end-of-the-world bullshit. Let me know your thoughts. Reblogs and comments are much appreciated.
⚠️Smut. Minors, DNI. Explicit depictions of sex, oral (f and m receiving), riding, missionary, passionate neighbors sex, yay.
read on ao3 | masterlist
ㅤㅤㅤㅤTexas, Summer of 2002.
When the bell rings, you think it's best to ignore it.
Living alone equals a lot of privileges, but the ability to go out alone and answer the door on a random Wednesday evening was not one of them. You're wearing compromising clothes and a robe, the bottle of wine you craved was finally open, and the last thing you wanted was to be murdered before enjoying it.
Then, you hear it. Your name, followed by, "It's Miller. Joel."
Fuck.
Well—this is exactly how many of your dreams started. Although this wouldn't go like them, for him, you'd open the door.
His eyes do little to hide the once-over when the door slides open.
They go down, then back up, and he seems to catch on to the fact that you saw it. Then, he shakes his head just a little, and says, "Is Sarah here?"
Well, well, well. You lean against the door. "Did she say she was?"
Joel pierces you with his Dad Look. "Yes." Obviously, it goes without saying.
What other reason would he have, right? Clearing your throat, you feel the anxiety bubbling underneath the surface. "Uhm. She isn't," you look apologetic as you say it. As if it's your fault his prepubescent daughter uses you as a scapegoat.
His sigh is enough to make you feel how tired he is. Overworked. Exhausted.
You try to understand what might've happened before he loses his mind, "What time d'you usually come back from work? Maybe she's at a friend's. She probably thought you'd be back later than this."
He finishes rubbing both palms all over his face, and he threads one hand through his hair. "I'm usually back at nine—well, I'm supposed to be back at nine. I'm usually home by ten." That checks out, then. "But—that doesn't explain why she lied to me."
"Any special occasions coming up soon?"
Joel frowns. "Uhm. My birthday's in a few days, but—"
"Ahhhh." It shuts his mouth, the way you exclaim it so clearly. "She's brainstorming, Joel."
"Brainstorming...?"
"A gift." No daughter had easy access to what made their fathers happy. You take pity on him. "C'mon—let me scare the little one."
You walk inside without waiting for his reply, knowing Joel will make his way in. "What d'you mean, scare her?"
The noise of his boots hitting the floor makes you happy.
You take the phone out of the wall and look at him. "She always keeps that cellular phone with her when she goes out?"
"Always," he nods.
"Perfect." You know it by heart already. As you dial, you feel Joel's eyes on your house. It's the first he's ever been inside, and it makes you hyperaware of every movement of his. "It's ringing," you inform him with a grin forming.
He looks confused. More tired than anything else, but it'll make sense in a second.
"Hey, miss Sunshine!" the nickname she gave you always brings a smile to your face.
Time to put on a show. Feigning panic in your voice, you yell-whisper on the phone, "S, love, would you mind telling me why on Earth is your pops—" you fake cover your end of the line to yell, "one minute!" then you're back at whispering again, "why is he parked outside my house right now? Is there something I should know?"
"Oh, shit! Shit, shit, shit, shit—"
You're glad he can't hear her end of it. "No time for panic. Explain."
"I am so sorry, Sunny! I thought he'd be back in like, two hours or something. Oh, god, can you please cover for me? I wrote a note saying I was at your place. Sleeping there. I was gonna call you before he came back home but Jenny and I—"
"You're at somebody named Jenny?" you repeat the information, looking at Joel with a question in your eyes, and when he nods, your heart soothes at knowing she's safe. "And you didn't think to mention your brilliant idea earlier?" going for the full effect again, you yell out, "One minute, Joel!"
At least she's fast in her rambles. "Yeah, yeah. My best friend. She's trying to help me come up with a surprise for him. I'm not there often and it's never on his birthday. I wanna make it special."
"Okay. Cool. Next time, fill me in as you make the plans."
"I will, I promise. Pinky promise. You think you can convince him I'm sleeping there?" the plea in her voice is adorable.
You chuckle. "I've got you, S." Joel sighs in relief in front of you. "Just one thing."
"Yeah?"
"Be back here tomorrow first thing in the morning. 7:30 sharp. I'm gonna invite your dad for breakfast, as punishment for your lack of planning, and you'll be the one making us the pancakes," before she can even answer, you go, "Toodles!" and hang up.
When you put your phone back at the base, you turn around with a proud smile.
Joel's looking at you funny. "You're good at that," he says.
"At what? Acting?" you laugh when nods. "I was a trouble child. I'm great at lying."
"Aren't those the same?"
"Eh. A thin line separates them." You can sense his awkwardness creeping up, so you do your best to think on the spot. "Is she one to escape?"
"Not really, no." He's shuffling on his feet, uncertain of what to do in your home. "She's never done this before."
"From what she told me, she's never around for your birthday."
"That's true."
"She wants to make a surprise for you," you inform. It puts that smile on his face that makes your knees a little weak. "And now she has to be back here at seven in the morning. All is well."
He laughs. "Yeah, I guess so."
He's gonna see himself out. You swallow all the nervousness that being in his presence creates and just... goes for it. "Is it hard? Having a kid?"
That relaxes some of the tension in his shoulders. He leans on the counter of your kitchen and shakes his head. "Not really. It's a lot of work, but it's not hard. It's rewarding."
I wish my mother felt the same. You smile at the truth in his words. "I can see it's hard work." He laughs again. "Well—I had just opened that before you rang the bell," you point at the Pinot on top of the counter. "Want a glass? Unless you tell me you're 'only beer' kind of guy, then I can't help ya."
Joel looks between you and the bottle a couple of times, then looks down at himself. "I'm uh—I'm all greasy and gross from work. You sure that's the company you want for wine?"
Rolling your eyes, you walk towards your glasses cabinets. "If I told you that you can go home and shower, you'd never come back."
"And that'd be a bad thing?"
"Sure it would. You're the only person in this entire street that hasn't interrogated me on my life so far, I feel left out. Offended, even," you add with a dramatic twist. Your robe flows around you, and you can't help but smile when you see his eyes following you.
It's the way he swallows visibly, almost audibly, that plants a seed of maybe inside your head. "I'm not usually one to pry."
You place both glasses on the counter. "Neither am I."
"I know. It's why I like ya," Joel says it with eyes on the glasses instead of you. "That and the way you talk to the plants."
Your hand on the corkscrew stops, and you want to slam your forehead against the wood. "Oh, god."
His laughter is so nice. "Nah, don't be embarrassed. 's why I gave you your nickname."
"Don't be embarrassed? That's mortifying, Joel. I thought no one—wait." Had you heard him right? "What d'you mean you gave me my nickname?"
Joel's head tilts, and he's definitely a charmer kind of guy. If you do have a chance, you might be fucked. "Your nickname."
"Miss Sunshine?" He nods. "I thought that was Sarah."
"No, Sarah used it first in front of you," he pulls one of the glasses closer to him. "I said it first."
Well... that made it just as special but in a different way. You pour the wine into both glasses. "Good to know. I was under the impression she was the creative genius in the household—I just. Quick question that I never asked her: Why?"
"'Cause every mornin' before I left for work you're there on that big window," he points at the glass window that's occupies ceiling to floor, the very reason you picked this house, "talking to your plants as if you're the sun itself waking them up. 's cute."
Cute. You hate how he has the ability to make you blush. What is this, fucking high school?
"That makes sense."
Joel wipes his palms on the side of his t-shirt and then looks up at you. "If I go home with the promise of comin' back, will you let me shower?"
Let me. You're thankful your arms are covered because you're unsure of what this man is capable of when he knows the effect he has on somebody.
"I'll let you," you answer.
Joel nods and his smile is so genuine that you wonder why you never tried before.
"'kay," he takes one sip of the wine, hums in approval, and then takes a deep breath. "'m gonna go. I'll be back to interrogate you."
"I'll leave the door open."
"No—Jesus bloody Christ, are you and Sarah mad? Lock the door, Sunshine." You like it so much when he's the one that says it. "I'm serious."
"Alright, jeez," you laugh.
It's less tense than you imagined as he puts his shoes back on and walks out of your door. Joel crosses the street with a little wave in your direction, and all you can think is—what on Earth am I gonna do to him?
When he's back, Joel smells so good it's intoxicating.
It makes your brain melt.
Minty and fresh. That's what his stuff smells like, and you know the idea of that scent's now painted on the walls of your brain.
He does that stupid little dad pose, widening both arms and lifting them up in a display of 'what do you think' before walking in.
It makes you want to push him against the wall, but you do your best at behaving.
For now.
"Brand new man?" you ask.
He points at his glass of wine, untouched since the moment he left. "Will be in a sec."
You wait for him to take a sip before extending him what you held in your hand before he arrived.
Joel eyed the cigarette and, thank fuck, there was none of the annoying judgment sometimes people carried. He stops his movement to sit on the stool and asks, "You smoke in here, or are we goin' outside?"
"There's a table there. Weather's nice. D'you mind?"
Joel grabs his glass, shaking his head. "Not at all, ma'am. Lead the way."
"Ma'am," you echo him, sounding disgusted. He laughs behind you, "Who am I, Mrs. Adler?"
Still laughing, Joel answers, "Nah. Too talkative for that."
You turn around with your mouth hanging open, trying very little to look offended. "I beg your pardon. We never spoke for longer than, what, five minutes?"
Joel shrugs his shoulders. His smile is as intoxicating as his presence. "I hear things."
"You hear things?" you ask, pushing open the door that leads outside.
"I do," he sips his wine, looking to the small terrace where your little table is. "My daughter's a gossiper, little Sunshine. I think y'should know that."
Little Sunshine. Goddamn this man.
"Should I be scared, here? I haven't even told her anything, but I feel like I should be."
"If you didn't tell her anythin', than why would you be?"
"Because!" you laugh, feeling just a little out of your depth with his smoothness. You expected more closeness from Joel. Less teasing, easy banter. "You're talking like someone who knows a lot, that's all."
"And I do," he says, sounding every bit as serious.
You sit down on one of the chairs — your chair, precisely — and watch as Joel walks around a little, taking in the environment. He adds, "Did ya know," pausing for a dramatic effect, he sips again, "that in all of three months, you became one of my daughters' favorite people?"
He pins you under his gaze.
You cross your legs, and watch happily as his gaze drops to the motion.
"Did I?" if you sip at his pace, you'll be throwing yourself on his lap in an embarrassing amount of time.
Joel nods behind his cup, touching one of the many plants that cover your backyard area from floor, to walls, to ceiling. "You did," he smiles, dropping the fake seriousness. "Are you ready to deal with the six months absence? 'Cause from personal experience," he points both hands at his chest, "you try convincing yourself you won't miss her all that much 'cause, y'know, it's "just" a girl, but—fuck," he spits the last word, smiling widening around the fact. "She's so cool to have around. You'll see. Your phone's bill's about to create life."
It grounds you.
The way Joel speaks of Sarah makes you feel comfortable sitting here, and any doubts you had are sucked by the green life around you and returned as oxygen.
Joel talks about anything, no reservations.
In his absence, you doubted whether this could be any different than most times.
Would Joel be like that—like any of those other guys?
He wasn't.
Joel, as much as you hated to admit it, was an exception.
Maybe these things were fated. Simple chemistry. Similar mindsets. Whatever it was—you had it every once in a blue moon.
Your expectations settings were long ago molded to expect the least, and it takes only half a bottle of wine for you to notice the need to rear it in.
He's so damn easy. Joel goes from one topic to another like he's interested. He answers your questions with full interest, sometimes going on tangent stories, and he's the one who keeps the glasses filled.
Attentive, you take note the second time that happens. Before any of the glasses got empty, he served you both.
He compliments your taste in music and sounds genuine about it.
The weird silences you most dreaded never happen—if he's not answering you, Joel asks things. Interesting things, unlike any other neighbor.
"Was it you who decorated your place inside? 'Cause, there are very specific things in there. And you seem like the type to know what you like."
Joel was very attentive.
He asked, "and is this what you like to do with your free time?" pointing at the books you put away when you both arrived, "Drink wine, read, talk to your plants?"
"I still can't believe you've seen me doing that."
He laughed at that. "It's a pretty big window, Sunshine. Jesus Christ—you don't lock the door, you don't know people can see through your gigantic-ass window—I'm genuinely starin' to get worried here."
"Okay, first of all, I do lock my door."
"Do you?"
"'Course. Most days."
"Oh my—"
"—and! Now that I was reminded of my window's size, I'll consider buying drapes. Long, white ones. That'd be cool."
It was easy.
Talking to Joel—sharing a table with him, a glass of wine—so easy.
He never looked uncomfortable. Even if he moved a lot, Joel looked good—so damn good you lost focus every now and then—, but good with himself.
In his skin.
That was intoxicating.
When he does more than just talk and asks things; it's almost too damn easy. Was time supposed to go this way?
The first bottle end, but it's too soon.
You know it. He knows it—plays with it, in fact. Waves the empty bottle after pouring it for you and him in the air very lightly then places it on the floor.
Offering another one is almost a visceral reaction.
You don't have the same finesse he does, or at least, you think not, but if his smiles and closing proximity are anything to go by, he's enjoying himself as much as you are. "I dance around opening these a lot," you say pointing at the empty bottle. Pulling your legs closer to yourself despite the voice of your mother telling you that's a body language sign of insecurity—fuck insecurity. "Don't wanna be the wine lady on top of the plant one. But they're good. I like it."
"I only drink wine when my brother cooks," he offers.
The glass in your hands makes you feel safe enough to land this conversation where you want it. "Really? He cooks a lot?"
"More than me," Joel confesses with a shrug. "He likes to match the wine to the dish and that type o' stuff."
"I was taught how to be picky, but if I'm being honest—" you like the way Joel leans in closer when you pause it. You smile, "it's all just grapes tastin' really, really good." The sound of his damn laugh. This man's gotta have a flaw, you think. "As long as it's wine, I'm happy."
"I think that about a good beer after a day of work."
"We're all just trying to give ourselves little positive reinforcements for playing nice at doing our jobs, huh?"
Joel pauses at that. Lifts his eyebrows, then bursts out laughing. "Oh, wow—"
"Oh god", while it took you a lot of alcohol to get drunk, being open-mouthed about weird things came with the territory of feeling comfortable.
Joel made you comfortable, even if you were mortified at how amused he was.
When he's done laughing, he looks at you. "That's cute. You're the philosophical type."
"Isn't everybody who enjoys wine?"
"I don't know. I enjoy wine and I'm not one to go that far, I think."
"Hmm. Philosophizing can involve different topics. Lenses."
Joel wolf whistles. "Well, I think I'd need a couple more glasses to unlock that side of me."
"Not a problem," you get up, and resist the urge to wink at him. "I'll be back."
Your reflection in the kitchen mirrors is the confirmation of how fucked exactly you are.
It's more than just the color on your cheeks—it's the glassy screen over your eyes, making it shine like...
Well, very few times.
Fuck, you think.
Maybe that's why your palms are sweating.
He's more than you bargained for—Joel's looks were hard to move on from, but this?
Once in Rome...
Fuck it.
It's not as if either one of you was blinded to what a moonlight late-night conversation leads to.
The air outside could be felt.
When you're going back with the opened bottle, another pin drops in your mind.
He has the whole night free.
You don't break the bottle, but it's a close call.
Joel asks you the second you're back, "I have a depressing confession to make—I was tryin' to keep to it to myself, but honestly, it's all I taught about when you left."
You place the bottle in the middle of the table carefully and sit back down with your eyes on him.
He moved his chair closer again.
"Do share," you urge.
Joel looks around the yard—he seems to do it a lot when he's dipping his toes into personal places and says, "This is the first time in a—uh—I don't even know. A while. That I just... sat with another adult. Drank something nice. Talked about more than just—fucking politics, or whatever." Joel's eyes on you make you feel honored. You know he'd say that's a silly thought if you said it out loud. "It's really nice. And—the depressing part comes in now: I'm only here 'cause of my brother."
You tilted your hair. "You're here because... of Tommy?" you tried connecting those dots, but came up short.
Thankfully, Joel was here. With his smile, and his explanation.
"You see, before Sarah's mom and I decided she could spend some months here instead of just a few weekends, I was already... shutting in. His words, not mine," Joel picks up his glass for a sip, and you hang onto every word he says. "So when she came, he took me out one night. That little bar a few blocks from here—y'know Mr. O'Donovan's place?" when you shake your head, he waves a hand, "I'll take you someday—'s the only place around here that's worth a dime."
"I'll take your word for it." I hate bars. You'd go for him. With him.
"I think I know what beer you'd like," it comes off as a whisper, and you have to hide behind your glass again. "I only remember that talk because he made me promise. He's not one to ask for promises."
"What did he make you promise?"
"He was upset 'cause I kept turnin' him down every time he wanted to do his 'meet my friend and you'll be good friends' match-making shit, so he said, 'you promise that the next time someone invites you do somethin' you actually wanna do, you're not gonna turn 'em down? You'll actually fucking go, without makin' excuses to yourself'. And that sounded fair. So I promised."
You take note of the effort he's making.
The subtle 'this isn't just about what's about to happen'.
'I'll take you someday'.
'Next time someone invites you to do somethin' you actually wanna do'.
So more than just neighbors. You nod at that, smiling at him. "He seems like a good brother," you say. "Siblings can be a pain in the ass."
Joel stops his glass on the way to his lip to shake his head at you, "Oh, no no," he takes the sip first, and says, "one doesn't negate the other. He very much is a pain in my ass, trust me."
You laugh. "Older and younger?"
"Younger," he nods. "I had a lil' bit of peace here and there before he was born."
"Can't imagine you'd have it any other way nowadays."
He agrees with you.
When he doesn't, Joel scrunches his nose as he shakes his head.
He does silly faces. You wonder if he's aware of how unfair it is that he gets to look like that. Tender. Charming.
He proves your theory to be right with only half another bottle.
Put two or more adults plus a certain amount of alcohol in a closed environment, and sex will be on the table.
It makes you blush when you think... it could literally be on the table.
Joel pretends he doesn't see you growing hotter. He keeps his eyes on you as you take off the robe instead of looking at your arms. Listens to what you're saying without losing focus.
Only when you're done and asking him something in response that he looks.
It makes your throat dry when he does.
Joel has an unabashed, almost cocky tilt to his mannerisms.
You thought he'd be quieter than he is—more serious.
It's a welcomed contrast.
When sex is laid on the table, it comes because he brought up the joke you made at the beginning of the night about his lack of interest in your life, and decided to ask you things. Where you grew up. If you were always like this.
"Define 'like this'."
"Smart with the calculating glance, and sweet-talking."
"Is that me?"
"Sure is, Sunshine."
None of the questions that people usually ask.
It makes you bite your lip more than you wished—his manly, tall presence gets under your skin in ways that no previous partner managed to. Tucking your hair behind your ear, avoiding leading the conversation to the exact places you liked, giggling—those weren't things you did.
He pulled them from you.
When he does ask you the 'usual' questions, it lacks the malicious curiosity inflating others whenever they did.
Sex is laid on the table because Joel looks you in the eyes with that easiness in his shoulders and asks, "I'm not as private as you, though—all of my neighbors already know Tommy, and Sarah. You, on the other hand... the mysterious crime and horror novelist, who talks to her plants and moved from so, so far. I might not be the prying type, but I was curious about you long before my gremlin set her little claws on you. How come I never see anyone coming in or out of here? You tellin' me not one friend of yours followed you here to god-forsaken Texas?"
Your glass is almost empty, and you focus on the twirling of the red inside it to avert your mind from the way he's sitting. "The point of moving was getting away from them. All of them, as bad as that sounds," you cover your eyes with your free hand, and Joel's hand touches your forearm.
"Hey—it's fine. Don't feel bad. 'm happy you had the privilege of gettin' away. If you wanted to move away from all of it, I'm sure you had your reasons."
Looking between your fingers, you try appraising his face. "Really?"
"Really," he nods.
"Okay." You sit up straight. "And I do have people over, sometimes. You're just always at work."
"Yeah? You made friends already?"
"A few, yeah."
"Where?" he removes his hand from your forearm but drops it to your chair's armrest. The proximity is doing something to you. "I thought you worked from home."
"I do," you agree. "But I do other stuff. I'm not always here with my plants, Joel," you roll your eyes, smiling amusedly.
Joel laughs, "I wouldn't know. If I could work from home and stay with my tools and wood, I would."
"And I believe you," you nodded.
He bites on his smile before asking. "What other stuff d'you do?"
"I joined a book club," you reply, feeling all levels of boring.
From his look, he disagrees. "You got the patience for that?"
"Sure do," you nod again.
He nods, pouting in awe. "Nice," he says. "Are your book club friends givin' you the right impression of Texans?"
"I'm warming up to them," you smile.
Nodding, he asks, "Should I ask now the questions all my neighbors already know the answer to? 'Cause I am curious. Did you know Mr. Adler tried tellin' me what he 'discovered' about you? He tried looking blasé when he said that, but I'm sure he just wanted to gossip about the pretty girl who moved across from him."
"Ew, Joel," you laugh.
His eyes never leave you—you feel it even when you're not looking at him. He's laughing too. "What? It's true."
When you look back up at him, you wonder—when did you two get this close?
"You can ask," you say. "It's not that exciting, the answer. Actually, it's not exciting at all."
"Hmm, I'll be the judge of that," he sips his wine, and leaves the glass on the table. "You already know my backstory, so kill my curiosity now," he pierces with his eyes for a moment, "how on Earth is there no ring on this finger?" he points to your ring finger, then he leans in closer, and you can smell the wine in his breath; you want to kiss it until it's taste is gone, "and how is it that I never see anyone leaving here early in the mornings?"
Well. "No ring 'cause I didn't want one so far," you reply. To him, you give more honesty than anyone else who's asked. "And I have the luxury of living without it. I know many friends of mine who don't—and actually, that was part of..." don't go there. "Nevermind," you shake your head, pinning yourself to here.
"You just didn't want it?" he echos.
You nod, "Never did," there's no reason to lie to him. He smells so good—why would you lie to him? "Most men bore men, Joel."
"Wow," the smile that widens is a little baffled. A little dirty. "Should I be scared?"
At that, you burst out laughing. "Really?" You have no clocks outside, but the starry sky and the deep silence in the houses next to you are a good enough indicator. "It's been... a couple of hours, at least. We're one bottle and a half," you say, looking at your glasses shining on the table, "deep into conversation... and you wonder if you should be scared?"
Joel's still looking at you when you look back. His arm is around your chair, and your back touches it when you lean back against it. "I'll take that as a no."
"You are very far from boring."
"'m happy you think so," he smiles. He lets his eyes drop to your lips, without a care for the two palms of distance that separate your faces. It's meant to be blatant. Obvious. "Just another question..."
Here it comes, you thought. Why no kids? Why so alone? Do you feel lonely?
"Why me?" he asks.
It's nothing more than a breath.
You could ignore it. Give any answer, and close the gap. Instead, you give him honesty. "Honestly? I was so attracted to you, the second I saw you, that I was willing to even hear somethin' stupid coming out of your mouth if I could just—," do it, do it, do it. Seeing his eyes darken from up close is torture. You can feel the pulse of your heartbeat between your legs. "Now, if I were any smart, I'd be wishing for you to be bad at all the rest, because..."
This was amazing already.
Joel laughs, just a single, breathy laugh, and then does something you would never see it coming.
He pushes his chair back with the weight of his hips and drops to his knees.
The gasp you let out is enough to put the most insufferable smile on his face.
"Don't say that," he feigns hurt, as if he wasn't smiling with his eyes and lips. "It might've been a while, but I don't think I lost my touch just yet."
Joel's hands envelop your knees and slowly pull them apart. You feel like an open wire—aware of every breath your body takes and each minimum reaction to him.
You feel the wet pulse inside your panties when he kisses the skin of your inner thigh, right above your knee.
Joel smiles up at you, blinking his eyes.
Damn him, you think. His hands caress their way up your skin, and you wished you were naked already.
He seems like someone to enjoy the torture—when his hands reach the curve of your ass, they stop there, holding onto your waist.
"Have I?" he asks, kissing the other inner leg. You feel a hint of his tongue in the short kiss.
What could you say to that?
"You really haven't."
Feeling the hot breathing of his laughter on your inner thighs was not in your list for tonight.
"Do I get a kiss, then?"
He would never have to ask you twice.
Your legs wrap around his torso when you lean down to meet him for the kiss. Joel seems to love the position—he smiles at first, gripping you by the neck.
He takes his time to look at you before he dives in. A mental check-in. Maybe just admiring, just as you were from the second he kneeled.
His kiss comes from experience. A lot of fucking experience.
If you were weak in the knees before, you seal the notion that you're out of your depth there and then.
Joel kisses like no one's ever kissed you before—like he wants to explore, discover, conquer.
He licks his way inside of you with the first kiss.
His tongue isn't shy; he makes you adjust to his rhythm, to let go and open up, and when you, you're rewarded with it—he pulls up just an inch, just to whisper, "that's it," and then dives back in.
Joel wraps his arm around your shoulder and neck in a possessive manner. It's why he makes it so easy for you let him guide it—he's holding you, and you moan as you melt into him.
He wants to feel your body.
The more you press yourself against him, the more Joel grants you little sighs of his own pleasure.
He never pushes his hips against you. Never presses you towards him.
It makes you want to scream.
When he pulls away, Joel sighs happily. He presses his right thumb over your swollen bottom lip, and nodding, kneels on his heels again.
"Joel..."
Your face remains close to his, gravitating to where he does. He whispers, "Lift your hips up for me, Sunshine," wrapped around a smile.
You do as he says.
His hand takes off your shorts without your eyes ever leaving you, and when the item is on the floor, Joel releases the robe you foregone earlier tonight from your backrest to slide down where you sit.
To not make a mess, it says.
Your face is burning up, but not as much as the rest of you.
"Is this ok?" he asks.
He waits for your nod of approval before pulling you by your knees. "Good," he's strong enough to get you where he wants in one pull. Your hips are nearing the end of the chair and from this angle, Joel gets to look.
He eyes the underwear as if it's personally offending him.
"I like the color," he says. He traces a finger across the baby blue lace and looks up at you. "Suits ya," he says. That's when he hooks a finger on the fabric, pulling it to the side. "I dreamt about this."
That gets to you.
Joel's fingers are thorough—able. He uses his knuckles to spread the lips apart, uncaring about the whines you let out above him, still holding on to the shame of being the only one exposed.
It lasts until he places two knuckles on each side of your clit, stimulating it with back-and-forth movements.
You were right about the torture.
He enjoys it.
Joel waits for your clit to be hard between his fingers before he puts his mouth to it.
You can only cling onto his hair.
I dreamt about this, too.
"Fuck—I dreamt about this too," you confess.
His moan vibrating against the core of your pussy makes you clench.
Joel's only starting.
He takes his time in finding the rhythm you most feel pleasure on your clit. He never bites, never nibbles, and doesn't go softly, like other men.
He eats.
Joel's mouth is stuck to you—the way he laps and slurps and sucks on your hardened nub only makes your volume go from whines and pleas of his name to moans in very little time.
That's when he dips his tongue inside. When he uses it as muscle and proves to you why the idea of oral is so good for men.
Because it's good.
Joel gives no indicator that he wants to stop at any time, and it turns you into something that blossoms.
At some point between him almost making you cum just by sucking on your clit and fucking his tongue in and out of you, your legs made their way to his shoulders, and his hands have secured themselves groping your ass.
He pulls back for air, once.
His fingers enter you instead, two at once.
"So wet already," he says. You only hear it, until, "look at me," he asks.
As if his thick, long fingers dripping into places inside of you weren't enough, you get to look at him.
His face glistening on your back porch is something that burns behind your eyelids the second you see it. You feel incoherent, needy, and exposed in more than one way.
Joel looks like he could eat you like this.
"Joel—please. Please," you're begging, but for what, you're not sure.
"Cum for me first. I'll give you whatever you want later, just," he pumps his fingers inside of you, keeping a steady and strong pace, and then says, "You look so good like this, Jesus fuckin' Christ."
Profanities.
That's what he says before getting his mouth back on you—his tongue sucking and vibrating against your clit.
It's too much. Too fucking much, and, "Joel, Joel—"
He pulls back just to say it, "That's it, doin' so good, Sunshine—" and that's when you lose it. The coaxing. It's so earnest. Sounds so pleased, dipping in honey as if it's him who's feeling this good.
"'m gonna cum Joel, fuck me, just like that—"
"Like this? Hm? Show me. Cum on my mouth."
All it takes is for him to put it back on you. Joel knows how to push himself inside—knows how to explore the hot and tight confines of your cunt, because he coos a first orgasm out of you with the right pace only.
No strength. No speed. Just sucking, and curling right against your spot.
Your vision whites out.
The time you take to come back to yourself, he keeps playing with your pussy and the mess he made in it, seeming as satisfied with the result as you are. Somewhere in white land.
What a little death.
After that, it's more a mess and clashes of teeth and desires than you knew you were even capable of.
He pulls you in for a kiss, and you pull him inside the house.
The idea is to make it to your room, but you never make it past the living room.
When you press him against a wall to finish taking off his clothes, seeing him only in briefs makes gravity pull you in.
Nothing but black briefs.
You have to drop to your knees.
Joel curses under his breath and tries his best at keeping his posture, but you're with a mind entirely clouded by raw need.
To him, you want to do only your best.
You're addicted to the way he mutters, "atta girl," every time you discover something that brings him pleasure. It sounds so fucking dirty.
"That's it. Atta fuckin' girl, god."
With him, you use tricks your friends once told you that are buried in the back of your mind. You hold the part of his cock your mouth can't cover and move it in sync with your lips. You make it wet, make sloppy, make it whatever he leads it to be.
Joel hisses and moans louder when you find the special places hidden—the sensitive skin between his balls that leads up, you lick it from start to finish and are rewarded with a full-body shudder.
He shows you what strong body means.
"Where's your room?" he pulls you by the arms, and you somehow end up jumping on him. Exactly what you wanted.
"I'm not makin' that far," you tell him with a grin.
He has his thumb on your lips again—he seems to like your mouth.
"Didn't think you'd want my bare ass on your couch."
"That is exactly where I want your bare ass right now," you tell him.
He's good at following requests, just as he is at giving them.
Joel sits with you already straddling his lap, and bless his gentleman's heart, he says, "I left my pants outside—wait," he curses under his breath with your hips circling his shaft. Letting it slide between your pussy lips. "Fuckin' hell."
"Fuckin' hell indeed," you sigh. "Wait here."
You run outside for it, only because you're not on the pill. Maybe you'll start taking it. Maybe you shouldn't think that far.
Joel's waiting for you alright—he has his hand at the base of his cock, sitting on your couch like a modern-day Adonis.
A sluttier Adonis. Sexier, too.
"Stop starin' and c'mere," he demands;
And who are you to say no to that?
Joel does you the favor of putting it on as you make yourself comfortable on his lap again, taking all of your out of the way. He looks like he wants to eat you alive piece by piece, and you love it.
"Lemme know if you want me to take over," he tells you.
"Yes, sir," you whisper in a taunting manner.
Joel rests his forehead against yours when you line himself up with you, and it's a reward of your stupid, gigantic-ass window letting in the light from outside that allows you to see the pleasure on his face as you sink around him, burying him to the hilt.
His digits press so hard on your sides they'll brise.
You'll be bruised tomorrow morning.
Fingerprints on your hips, beard burns on your inner legs, palm shapes across your ass.
When you start moving, none of you say a word about how it feels.
It's criminal.
Only curses and your names are allowed in the thin space separating your wet bodies.
The thin layer of sweat makes you two glide on each other, and the drag of him inside of you is almost too good for words.
You're scared of the ones that'd make their way out, anyway.
So you let out what you can. You call for him, and he calls back. Joel slaps your ass, both sides of it, and urges you on to take him as you want it.
"Fuckin' christ, I'm never gonna—fuck—never gonna sleep again."
There it is. Being pussy-drunk makes him loose-lipped.
Your own are aching with how hard you bite on them.
Joel lets the reigns remain on your hands as you stay on top. He lets you ride him painfully slow, and faster, just because it feels good. He lets you climb all the way up only to slam back down, praising you through the fog in your brain.
"Does it feel good, Sunshine? Mm? My cock feels that good for you?"
You're sure it'll all come back to haunt you once your brain can be coherent.
He takes charge when you start begging him, and for what, you're unsure of. It's a mixture of please and his name, which Joel takes as his permission slip.
He flips you onto your back, hooks one of your legs on the middle of his back, and fucks you both into another orgasm.
It should be concerning the way he does it—like he's familiar with your body and your cues. He just follows your pace and moans until you're clawing at his back, and when his name comes out over and over again, he coaxes it again. Coos at you, holding your face in one hand. "You're gonna cum for me, aren't ya? Do it. I'll cum for you when I feel you shakin' around my cock, Sunshine. Cum for me."
It comes so hard you almost faint; blackout.
Joel takes care of you afterward.
Of course he does.
Even with the weakest legs and the minimum sense of reality around you, he manages. Joel leads you upstairs, tells you he's collected your clothes, and even lays down when you ask him.
"Just for a while," you ask.
He lays in front of you in bed, and pulls your arms around him. "I'm puttin' an alarm."
Little spoon. "You gotta be back here in the morning anyway."
"I know," he kisses your wrist. "Can't wait."
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Luffy accidentally eating/taking aphrodisiac and reader has to deal with the results.
HAPPY 2024!!! :D here’s my longest fic ever as a celebration
can’t come down - aphrodisiac luffy x f!reader
smut with some angst
summary: thinking it was regular chocolate, you accidentally give luffy several doses of a potent aphrodisiac. now he needs you to take care of him
contains: accidental intoxication, luffy in discomfort/distress, tears, some uncomfortable sex, overstimulation, luffy and zoro in a brief sexual situation
words: 4.8k
_______________________________
It’s all your fault. You’ve hurt him, the little angel. A pleasant but burning pain, he’s attached to you, drooling on your neck and he’s been going for hours and he’s rubbing inside you ceaselessly, you’re dripping with him. He’s whimpering, this sweet boy. His eyes are blown out and hazy and he won’t stop just gazing at you, open-mouthed whimpers while he rubs inside you so deep and rough that god, you can feel it blooming and aching in your stomach, squeezed as you breathe so with every breath he moans in frustration and desire. Luffy just wanted chocolate, it’s all your fault.
______________________________
This town is seedy and dark. You like it because you can’t find these sorts of shops in regular port towns, places selling hallucinogens and fake medicine and alcohol for 100 berries a bottle. The sex shops don’t even board up their windows, that’s why you and Nami thought why not, let’s explore.
It’s not a serious shopping trip, more of a chance to laugh, tease each other, indulge in curiosity. This store’s set into the ground, beneath a metal stairway, it’s starting to rain so you two run for cover in the most interesting place.
The sex shop, which is very dim, all lantern light, is filled with things neither of you had ever seen before or thought to consider. The salesman is pushy, coming from behind the counter to try to sell you things you certainly hadn’t come there for. You laugh and walk around and whisper to each other. And even though you’re in a loving relationship these aren’t things you’ve thought to consider. Luffy wouldn’t like any of this. You would never do something to hurt or confuse him, not when you’re both vulnerable like that. But these low prices intrigue Nami who tells you that hey, why not get some cute lingerie?
“They’ve got a whole wall of it!” She points to the colorful selection of lace and silk and you do admit, it’s beautiful. It’s not something Luffy would care about really but you’d feel pretty in it, maybe. They’ve even got these cute little translucent night dresses that look so comfortable.
So you approach the salesman with your arms full of lingerie and he looks eager to be selling to two beautiful women. He keeps talking about deals and discounts, and with a little wink he throws in a special offer, with those two night dresses you’re buying you get free aphrodisiacs. Chocolate aphrodisiacs in a little white box and he keeps telling you these things are powerful. It’s a special deal, just for you. And with laughter and encouragement from Nami you say why not. You take them, even though you don’t think you’ll ever use them.
___________________________
Weeks go by. That little box, it rests forgotten in some dresser drawer. You tend to forget things at sea.
And there’s this island, more of an ocean mountain really, with jagged cliffs for beaches but there’s a small jungle on top, there might be food or resources up there. So Sanji and Zoro are going to go, and Luffy absolutely insists on coming with them. He’s all excited about it, hyper, rolling on his feet because he’s been kept away too long on the ship and he wants to explore.
But he’s not feeling quite himself. You’ve been short on food and Luffy’s had it bad, never satisfied after meals for the last couple days. That’s why this ocean mountain is the center of your universe with only the promise of a grove of mango trees, a flock of quail. So he’s begging you, pawing at your knees as you sit in bed and begging to get something to eat before he goes exploring. You try to help, maybe there’s something in a drawer, you get to your knees and dig through your dresser while Luffy crouches behind you, leaning on your back, you feel his warmth through your shirt. He’s impatient so he bites the back of your neck, tender but sharp.
You find the little box. You have no memory, in that moment, of where you got it. There’s no label, and you later think to yourself why the hell was there no label? but of course it doesn’t cross your mind right here. It’s a little box of chocolates and before you even have a chance to remember, Luffy snatches them out of your hand and says thank you and kisses you quickly on the cheek, cupping your face, his lips wet from hunger. And he sprints away, leaving you blushing, sitting there on your floor with a little smile.
_________________________
He’s beginning to feel very warm but it’s just the sun, probably. He takes off his cardigan, carrying it on his arm. His skin glistens golden in the light, a perfectly burnt brown, but now he’s going red with flush creeping from his face to his shoulders. Luffy’s breathing is irregular now, shuddering. He looks around, the trees wavering just a bit in a cloudy haze through his eyes.
“Sanji?” And he reaches for Sanji’s hand because for some reason he craves contact right now. But Sanji pulls away, feeling the layer of sweat coating Luffy’s palm. “I feel weird.”
Sanji’s eyes wander him. He can sense there’s something not right in Luffy’s stare, something dulled and far away. Something’s wrong, what’s wrong?
“Luffy?” Sanji doesn’t know what to do in these kinds of situations. “You should go see Chopper,” he says finally with his hand on Luffy’s shoulder, gingerly.
“Don’t wanna go back yet.” Luffy’s complaining despite the discomfort. And when he sees that Sanji won’t tell him anything he wants to hear, he turns and disappears into the underbrush, maybe water will help, something cold.
So he comes to this little pond, crystal clear and dappled by sunlight, there’s frogs on the lilly pads. If he wades to his thighs he won’t pass out, probably. There isn’t much care for himself in this moment, just a need to get rid of this burning. So he strips off his jeans which helps, strangely. A breeze hits his now bare body. He feels raw in a way he never has before.
That’s a yearning need to touch himself, but no, Luffy doesn’t think about that. He’s hot so he needs to get in the water. He stumbles on the rocks because his vision isn’t quite right. He shouldn’t go to his waist but that’s where the burning is. Ankles then knees then thighs, ripples lap between his legs, he’s left panting and tingling, that water is hitting nerve endings and with every wave comes friction that makes his body twitch. He wants more.
His hand flies to his cock as if by impulse, all of a sudden. There’s no thoughts now, just need, his hand rubs himself messily even though Luffy has no control, no concept of what he’s doing or why.
God, please.
He bends over a little, head down. Beads of sweat from his brow speckling the water as his whole body shakes back and forth and his muscles spasm. Frustration fogs his mind, with every pump it only stretches his skin, not enough friction, his hand is clamped down so tight that it’s doing nothing for him. He feels like crying. He hates that he wants to go home.
But this isn’t home. And as Luffy moans unabashedly this sounds like cries from pain, which they are, a bit. So it’s Zoro who hears him and without a second thought he’s tearing through the underbrush, tripping over his own feet, led blindly by his worst sound in the world — Luffy crying.
He shouts his name and crashes through the trees, he’s in the clearing and looking around desperately but what he sees makes him yell again. There’s Luffy, the love of Zoro’s life, completely naked and wading in the water of that crystal clear pond and moving sporadically as he rubs his cock, so painfully rock hard, over and over in this animalistic desperation as he cries and whimpers. He doesn’t know where he is or who’s around him and he doesn’t see Zoro.
Until he’s shoved from the side, a powerful push that sends him tumbling into the water, cruel cold water that sucks him in and starts a familiar panic within his heart that makes him forget for a moment about that burning inside him.
“WHAT THE FUCK, LUFFY?!” Zoro pulls him by his hair, shaking him, throwing him on the rocks and looking at Luffy with these stricken eyes, unable to comprehend what he’s seeing. His composure in that moment is shattered, his fists are clenched.
They’ve seen each other naked so many times. They’ve bathed and held and carried each other with nothing between their skin, it’s just how it happens sometimes when you’re that close. But this intimacy, this state Luffy’s in, it’s like nothing Zoro was prepared to see or could even really imagine out of Luffy. Something is horribly wrong.
“Zoro…” and Luffy’s taken up in his arms because no disgust or awkwardness comes before helping a friend who’s hurting. “I feel… I dunno… what’s- …”
Luffy’s voice is so slurred, his body is tense and so solid but yet somehow he’s still melting. Zoro’s finding it hard to look at him, do anything other than just sit there and hold him, uncomfortable at how he can feel that heat from between Luffy’s legs radiating and blooming condensation on Zoro’s skin. He has absolutely no idea how to even begin to approach this situation. So he’s rough and sloppy as he dresses his friend, his cardigan’s on and his sandals are on and his hat has been slammed over his eyes. But Zoro, teeth gritted, has to shove Luffy’s cock in his jeans himself because this boy is useless like this. He’s silently vowing to never talk or think about this moment again, how sticky his hands now feel, how Luffy moans as he’s touched and leans into Zoro and how his cock twitches with an overpowering need to fuck anything that’s close.
Zoro won’t think about this again. He just picks Luffy up and carries him away without saying a word.
______________________________
You’re just looking out the window. Unmoving sun, unmoving sea. You want to eat or go somewhere and maybe you should’ve begged and made them take you on the island.
Is it the island, or do you just miss Luffy?
But it’s not long before your door is kicked open, you jump, eyes wide, whipping around to find Zoro cradling your boyfriend, who looks sick. Fear shoots through you and closes your throat especially when you see Zoro’s eyes, vacant and upset and he looks dissociated, blank.
“Oh god, Luffy.” You run to him and your hands go to his face and just stroke his cheeks, he’s sweaty and burning up like he’s caught in a deep fever. “What happened?” Your eyes are wild and scared as you turn to Zoro.
“I don’t know what you gave him. Just… deal with it.” Zoro dumps Luffy into your arms and you stumble as he curls up into you, drooling all over your neck. And Zoro gives his shoulder one last squeeze and turns away, closing the door behind him, running off down the hall, somewhere where he can’t hear that crying anymore.
And yes, Luffy’s crying. You set him down on your bed, rubbing the back of his head and holding his hand. “Hey, hey, talk to me. What’s wrong?”
“Dunno what’s happening…” Luffy’s eyes are pleading and endlessly deep right now. His legs are kicking against the air and he keeps shifting around, he can’t sit still.
With his free hand he’s rubbing between his legs like he’s scratching an itch, but he doesn’t stop, your gaze follows him and oh, oh fuck. He’s got this tight, obvious hardness in his jeans. Straining so hard the zipper is shaking with tension. You’ve never seen anything like this.
Your mind is racing, this isn’t just horniness, Luffy has never been sexsick like this before.
You trace it all back and nothing was wrong when he left. Just bright eyed innocence, affection, nothing strange. And suddenly it hits you, that box, those chocolates.
Oh god. Oh my god.
You fed him an aphrodisiac. An aphrodisiac from a sketchy shop in an old-town basement, a powerful drug, just one would keep you up a whole night.
And you let Luffy eat them all.
“Lu… god, I’m sorry,” is all you can say as he crawls into your lap and breathes on your face. You take off his hat and ruffle his hair. How can you even explain this to him? He’s not going to understand. “I’m so sorry. This is my fault, I gave you an aphrodisiac by mistake.” You’re choked up. You hurt him.
“…” Luffy’s mouth is hanging open, drool coating his chin, dazed, so confused. “Hm?” His voice is even gravelier than normal.
“Those weren’t normal chocolates. They make your body… ready for sex? It’s supposed to be a fun thing. B- but I forgot they weren’t just normal chocolates! God, I’m so sorry.” You’re breaking down, you’re cuddling with him now, head on his shoulder.
“Oh.” You can’t really tell how much he understands. And his voice is quiet when he asks, “when’s it gonna go ‘way?”
“…I don’t know. I’m gonna try to help, ok? Let’s fuck for a few hours and get it out. It’s gonna be ok, Lu.”
His pupils expand when you say this, his eyes going from brown to deep black. He wants that so, so bad. He’s just sort of figuring that out now. “Heh, yeah.” He squirms in your lap, cock so hard you can feel his zipper sliding down on its own, as his breath gets heavier, this desperate ball of energy spasming in your arms.
Then he smiles. And he attacks.
He flips you onto your back and groans, hips thrusting into yours as his lips find your mouth, saliva leaking past your lips, you swallow as they part. You’re wearing these soft cotton shorts and you feel his aching cock smacking the fabric as it pushes and strains to break free from his pants with every motion. He moans so loud you know everyone can hear. Now he’s drooling again, spitting on your face because he’s lost control of his jaw, you’re winded but you grab his face and kiss him, he didn’t even know he needed this.
He falls on you now. He’s all splayed out and whining and just kissing you as if he’s been challenged, teeth and tongue working through every part of your mouth. He’s loud when he kisses, and now every breath is a groan of want.
“Undress me…” you whisper to him, grabbing the back of his neck, he seems like he’ll explode if he keeps on like this without being deep inside you.
With a strangled “Mh,” Luffy’s fingernails scrape your skin in a desperate attempt to pull off your dress. He’s ripping cloth, damn, you can hear him ripping cloth. Nothing you can do now.
But you can tell as your skin shines bare and he tears his own clothes from his body, as his sweat drenches you and that heat like a tropical hurricane all over but especially where it pools between his legs and oh you’d be scared if you looked there now, you can tell he’s about to just go in you with no thought or reason and harder than he’s ever gone before. So — and you hate to do this — you grab his shoulders. You stare him in the eyes.
“Luffy. Listen to me.”
your eyes reach his soul, he tries to look at you with anything close to coherence, he wants to follow your lead, he doesn’t understand anything right now. But there’s a hailstorm inside his mind. But he tries to listen.
“Don’t be too rough, please, can you promise?” Your voice is shaky because you’re not sure what he’s about to do. Luffy would never intentionally hurt you but he’s powerful, his body is strange, he works in ways neither of you understand. He has the power to really, really damage you and the carelessness to not see it happening. So you beg him with your eyes.
“I promise,” he gasps softly, one hand curling behind your neck, and he presses his face against your cheek, trying to harden his eyes in the gentle seriousness of the moment. Luffy is incapable of feeling sadism towards you of any kind and he’s at war with his body and the energy bursting within him right now. But he promises.
You smile and your feet rest on his hips and thighs, you feel him sizzling beneath your touch. The surface of his skin wavers before your eyes from the heat, you understand now the idea of mirages, he looks covered in amber rain even as his skin burns beneath your hands.
“Slow,” you ask softly in his ear, making Luffy whine in hunger.
There it is. What you don’t dare look at you can feel. Swollen and throbbing it feels like a whole other animal is just clawing there beneath that rice paper skin. You can feel his heartbeat in the tip of his cock as he touches you and it speeds up thousands of times in an instant. His thighs clamp around yours and his nails are sharp and Luffy groans in your ear. He’s made of nerve endings that send him twitching writhing with every tiny movement. He needs you now.
He pushes himself in and every bit of friction sends him convulsing against you, squeezing you tighter. You can feel the struggle in his muscles to hold back but that deep, tangible yearning for relief. He’s in and you’re both gasping for air. You’re not used to the size or the heat or that artificially induced power that’s overcome his body. But you’re proud of him and you tug his hair to tell him a quiet thank you, you’re ok, he’s keeping you safe.
All your touches are too much. His hips move messily against you like he doesn’t have the capacity to understand what to do right now. But he’s just going to follow that deep primal craving so he rocks into you with all his weight, crushing you again and again, eyes closed, mouth trying to find yours.
It’s the movement but also the way you’re being held. It’s a scary heaven. He’s going deep and he’s not pulling out just throwing himself against you over and over as if there’s any more he has to go. He’s whimpering and his body is shaking in need.
But he goes faster and now this is what you’re scared of, weighted rubber moves and stretches with momentum, he’s squeezing you tighter and tighter and with each slam against your body his cock buries into you so impossibly deep as his skin stretches and snaps within you. You whine and try to steady him but Luffy’s in this cloud right now. His teeth are digging deep into your neck and he’s drooling all over you, saliva dripping down your shoulder and chest.
When he cums it’s so hot it feels like lava. There’s so much of it. That relief at the slowness, liquid soothing beaten flesh, that’s heaven as you lay beneath him, wrapped in his arms. Is it over? No, no it isn’t.
But first, while he’s stunned and unable to move, you squish his face in your hands. “Luffy,” you breathe heavily into his mouth, “be more gentle. Please. You’re gonna hurt me.”
His eyes are wide and concerned. “I hurt you?” he whimpers from his swollen, shiny lips.
“I’m ok, don’t worry, just please be more gentle.” And you smile at him. That sets something off in his heart and you feel him harden again inside you.
He grins, lifting you back so you’re pressed against his chest, on his lap. And he shoves you down against him as you squirm in his arms, he rolls your hips on his as his strong hands take total control of your body, hungry eyes gazing at you with deep, immeasurable lust. From this new position he has so much control, he’s using your body for his release in as loving a way as possible, biting at your skin. You’re left to twitch in his grasp and hug him, letting yourself bask in this incredible tsunami.
The bouncing and stretching of his cock isn’t as bad in this position although you’re still impossibly full, limp in the overwhelming motion. But that heat is becoming uncomfortable, your cheek from its rest on his shoulder is covered in layers of sweat and you feel it pooling around every point of contact. He smells like burning rubber and thick, palpable sweat. His skin begins to sear your hands and you only realize what’s happening when he starts to steam. Billowing steam clouding your room and soaking you in hot, wet air like you’re in an erupting volcano. You’re not sure which gear he’s changing to and you don’t want to find out.
“LUFFY!” You yell through your haze and hit his back and it’s so hard to talk to him like this, his moans are drowning out your cries, he’s moving faster and faster and his hair and mouth and the area between your legs is already lost in clouds of white steam. “STOP!”
He yelps and rolls off of you. Your words cut his heart. You’re both drenched and your bed is soaking, your hair in your eyes dripping down your face mixed with tears you didn’t even know were there. Luffy looks confused, disoriented, he’s still steaming but it’s slowing now, his skin is dulling to its usual hue, his hair falls back over his face. He doesn’t know what to say.
“You were changing gears,” you murmur under your breath. “Luffy, that could’ve been bad.”
“I’m- I’m sorry…” he whimpers and looks down at himself. There’s still a cloud of blinding steam circling up the shaft of his cock, blooming from his tip and shimmering in droplets rolling down the red, tight skin. He looks at you with puppy eyes, needing your arms again.
You let him crawl to you. You let him place his head under your hand to be pet and comforted. He feels terrible but he feels sick, too, a sickness only cured by the deepest and most indescribable pleasure. He’s melting in your arms, as needy as when he was given to you, eyes blurry. You let him rest his head in your lap and drink in your scent, blankets tucked between his legs for the slightest friction.
“It’ll feel better if you don’t go so fast,” you say softly, stroking his wet hair. And he nods.
“Can I have more now? I’ll be better to ya. I really promise.”
His hands feel gentler now. You let him climb your body and capture you in another deep kiss. And with your legs crossed behind his back you let him fuck you again and chase his second orgasm and he’s right, he’s better now. He’s fighting with his body but he’s better.
When he cums again it feels boiling hot. It’s shot after shot deep inside you and he tugs your hair, bites your shoulder, strokes your lower stomach before moving down to rub at your clit which is incredible because he never thinks of that. This drug is making him different, his mind is overwhelmed by sex in a way it never is. Part of you likes it a lot. It’s new. It’s fun.
It doesn’t take him long before he’s hard again and dragging his cock through your walls in deep, deliberate strokes with his tongue in your mouth. Luffy is a million miles above the earth. With every orgasm his world shakes and crumbles for an instant before it’s rebuilt again in waves of desire that send him higher, higher. He’s a million miles above the earth and even as hours slip by and his body is drained again and again, he can’t come down.
__________________________
At some point the ship has set sail again. Clouds crawl by the porthole and the ocean rocks you both but you and Luffy stay in that soaked bed and get lost in each other for so long that you don’t even know what’s real anymore. You can’t tell sensation from sensation. Neither can he but he can’t come down.
There was that perfect sweet spot where you had just swam in each other in bliss and peace. You didn’t have to stop his gear changes anymore because his body had adjusted to this new universe. And you were in tune with each other. But now, now it’s bad again.
But in a different way.
Luffy is exhausted but so desperate still. His tears have started again and he doesn’t know what to do and he can’t even move and every part of his body aches. You’ve never seen him like this during sex, he’s never weak or tired. But his body is drained.
But that drug won’t let go.
“You ok?” you’re whispering, hand on his face. You lift Luffy in your arms and place him on his back. His eyes won’t leave yours, he’s starry eyed and love struck through his tears.
“Mh…” is all you can make out. He looks down at himself, his body is dripping wet and his cock is hard again, throbbing hard in overstimulation.
Every touch seems like it’s painful to him now. But he wants more so, so bad. So you place a pillow under his head, you curl up against his body, and you rub him with your hand. Your arm gets tired but you keep going for as long as you possibly can. And sometimes Luffy will open his mouth in a silent, breathless moan, sometimes his body will convulse and his cock will twitch. But his orgasms are dry now. There’s nothing left in him.
The last one, that’s when he grabs your face. With his last bit of strength he rolls onto you and clutches your cheeks in his hands and just stares at you, not letting you move, his thighs squeezing your leg. He rubs himself off on you one last time and with a final shudder he’s done. It’s all gone. It’s over.
He collapses into your arms, too tired to breathe anymore. You expect him to just sleep right there but instead he twists onto his back, batting at your face with his palm lazily, playfully. He giggles. He looks dreamy and dazed. But happy, actually. Really happy.
“Feeling alright?” You’re worried. You’re guilty, still. You’re praying nothing hurt him or made him sick.
“Mhm. Feel good!” Luffy’s beaming as if he already forgot everything that happened. He’s glowing, chest rising and falling heavily. But he tilts his head questioningly, “you?”
“Yeah. Just sore.” To which he rolls onto his elbows, kicking his legs in the air, he holds your body, he gives your hips a soft kiss. He’s appreciative, he’s so soft now, honey skin glowing in the sleepy sunshine.
But everything is wet. Your clothes on the bed next to you, the sheets, your bodies and hair. So with your arms around his shoulders, because it will be hard to walk for a while, the two of you throw on robes and step outside. You forgot the smell of fresh sea air after that mist of sex and sweat. Luffy’s heart beats against yours, calm and healthy, steady.
He sets you down and you take him in your arms, now, laying him against the mast. You take a towel to his hair, drying him, the sun on the wind sending the dewdrops you’re made of falling away from your shoulders in rainbows. You’re glittering, you and Luffy.
You should get you both some food soon, you should give yourselves a real bath, you should go and comfort Zoro and assure him that you’re both ok. But not yet. You don’t want that yet.
You avoid the eyes of the others as they pass below. You don’t want to talk about this with anyone but Luffy right now, the boy who looks like an angel resting below you, chiseled glistening body, sunlight divinity. He opens his mouth, he kisses your fingertips as you brush hair from his cheeks.
He wants to talk to you at first but he finds that his eyes are too heavy. He just yawns instead, and bares his teeth in a smile. And he holds your hand tightly with this deep, profound gratitude. You hear him whisper, beneath his breath, that he loves you.
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When they call you their wife (Genshin Impact Version)
Fandom: Genshin Impact
Pairing: Kaeya x reader, Diluc x Reader, Zhongli x Reader, Xiao x Reader
Other characters: ehh, I think I mentiones Traveler in Zhongli's part, Diluc is also mentioned in Kaeya's part
Category: Romance, scenarios
Warnings: There's a little bit of violence in Xiao's part but it's not detailed. I think that's it!
Author's note: It's ten days since the beggining of the year, happy new year people! Sorry about the delay, I'm terrible with time so... yeah there's that better late than sorry! Hope you enjoy~
Kaeya
“And this beautiful lady is my dear wife”
This man lives to see people's reactions to what he does and says. So he bets to himself what your reaction will be to every of his crazy ideas, so maybe he teases you a lot and flirts with you shamelessly.
He went to Sumeru to represent Jean since she was very occupied. You, on your part,were assigned to protect him since he was an important diplomat of Mondstadt.
You tried to be as professional as possible but it was hard when Kaeya found every opportunity to flirt with you.
Kaeya is a gentleman around you, treating you like his date rather than his guard.
So he makes you relax, he makes you laugh with his comments. When he hears you were assigned because of your dexterity with the sword he gets interested in your story.
Where did you learn to fight? When did you start? Who was your master? You went to the akademya? You were a Mat, Matra?
Kaeya gets really invested so you decide to answer his questions only if he answers them too.
And Kaeya is happy to reveal all of his stories and secrets to know you because you are not like most people, you don't get frightened when he says he once woke up a ruin guardian to win a fight.
“It a valid gamble” you say while nodding and Kaeya’s eyes bright like he just heard the most beautiful music of all Teyvat.
When Kaeya finally has to go back to Mondstadt you are informed that you will have the mission to bring him back to the capital of Wind safe and sound.
It was a long and tiring trip, you had to defend yourself and him more than once and Kaeya was more than happy to fight by your side.
There was only one problem in the last part of your journey: a Samachurl Froze your ankle and while you were able to kill it the frostbite was a problem.
Kaeya, ever the gentleman carried you to a safe place, the house of his childhood: Dawn’s Winery
He knocked at the door and was faced with a surprised Adeline, who hurried to get everything needed to help you.
Maybe an hour later Kaeya’s brother appeared and explained your situation, only that he presented you as his wife.
Diluc was taken aback when Kaeya presented you as his wife. He looked at his brother with a specially deep frown, making Kaeya say: “It was love at first drink”
There are three options: one were Diluc apologizes…
“My apologize, it seems my brother hurt his head and is speaking nonsense”
Another option is if you are someone who is honest and you react nervously, denying his statement, Kaeya will laugh and tells you, in a joking tone, that you don't have to get shy, this is his brother!
The last option is if you act all composed, there's a chance that Diluc will smile and sarcastically play along, as you two chat, ignoring Kaeya who will definitely get touchy at the lack of attention.
If you laugh and play along with him, he will most definitely hug you by the waist and start calling you his wife for every goddamn reason he can think of.
“My wife would like a glass of water” “I can't give that to my wife” “Diluc, she is my wife be polite” Now Kaeya can't stop calling you his wife.
Diluc
“Carefull now, Mr.client, That's my wife you are talking about”
Diluc won't call you his wife if it's not true, so you are married to the Dark knight hero, the thing is: Almost no one knows about you two because Diluc doesn't want to put you in danger.
You two met at the Angel's Share. You were a knight of favonius, he was bartending.
You had gone there to celebrate someone's birthday, only that unlike the rest you didn't ask for an alcoholic beverage, you asked for apple cider.
While everyone got plastered you chatted the night away with Diluc.
Let me tell you, Diluc was happy to talk to someone who wasn't complaining about his life nor was drunk. It was one of the best nights of his life.
So maybe, when you forgot your vision on the bar to go help one of your friends, he didn't say anything, wanting to have a reason to look for you.
Oh, and he looked for you the next day!
Everyone was shitting their pants when they saw Diluc entering the headquarters. Everyone was wondering what he was doing there, if there was a crisis, if… wait, why was he talking to you?
Diluc gave back your vision and since that moment he found the way to get involved with you.
That being said, he proposed after two years of knowing you and the wedding was at the Dawn Winery and was very, very small.
Persons who where at the wedding: Kaeya, Jean, Lisa and Adelinde, besides the nun who officiated the wedding. (I said it was a small wedding!)
I mean, being Mrs. Ragvindir would put you up in the list of people to kidnap in Monstadt, not because of the dark knight hero thing, no, no, no. It's because of the mora.
He only calls you his wife because he has to instill fear in the bones of the man who dared to speak about you
What did the man said? “That Y/n, she has such a pretty ass, have you seen it?... Come on! She looks like such a slut with that skimpy clothes, I would love to spank…”
And Diluc is not going to let anyone talk about his wife, like that in his own bar.
Yes maybe you are a Favonius’ knight and yes it's true your ass is pretty, especially when you use shorts… but no one is allowed to talk about you like that, like you are nothing but an object.
Okay, maybe he can but only when he's alone with you in the middle of some dirty session of love making.
When he say those words, he’s totally saying them to scare the shit out of whoever dared to be disrespectful to you. Because, a menace from him is something to fear, he was the youngest calvary captainof the knights. He was a master swordman.
Diluc knows you can defend yourself, you probably will kick this drunkard ass, but he prefers to instill fear in people than have you getting in trouble with Jean.
Don't get mad at Diluc, he’s a bit overprotective of you because he loves you.
The man suddenly sobers up as soon as his ears registered Diluc words. He looks ashamed and regretful of his choice of words, he offers an apology and leave because it's so damn late!
As soon as Diluc sees you back home, he can't avoid looking at you with adoration only to confess his slip up the moment you two are having dinner.
The only thing you can say is: “It's about time everyone knows”
Zhongli
“Oh, Y/n is my wife, didn't I mentioned it?”
He was 3,000 years old when he met you. You were the prettiest living being he had ever seen.
A minor Goddess with strong wings that adorned your back. A Goddess enslaved to be a gift to the lord of vortex, send heavily guarded in a caravan that happened to pass near the Guili plains thanks to an accidental detour
You were the goddess of Song and the Dawn, the bringer of peace after a nightmare.
Zhongli could forget even his own name but he would never forget your panicked expression when your eyes landed on him.
He was so damn tall, intimidating and serious that you had thought the Dragon wanted to keep you for himself.
However, Morax had opened the cage and told you in a stern and cold voice that you were free.
You were so afraid that you didn't step out until he got away from you. Then you flew away in the form of a bright and colorful bird.
You didn't plan to go back to where he was but curiosity got the best of you, so you went back and watched Morax in silence from the distance.
The Adepti tried to scare you away unsure of how to deal with you stalking the prime Adepti. However, you didn't budge. Everyday you appeared in your bird form to sing to Morax and wake him up.
Slowly the adepti accepted your presence, they even started to try and get you to stay a little bit more since Morax started asking about the bird he has been hearing.
Morax one day woke up earlier only to tell you that you could stay for breakfast and since that moment you two started to eat together.
You were grateful to him and looked for forms to let him know, from giving him flowers, act as his messenger to the Yaksha and even sing for him. He had saved you from being a concubine of Osial, there was too much to be grateful.
Between this acts of devotion, Morax started to pay more and more attention to you and even when he didn’t understand his feelings he knew one thing: He wanted to keep you close and keep you safe.
Thousands of years were needed but you two ended up getting married.
Now, in all of this more than 3,000 years of Marriage he has called you Wife, but I really like this time when he forgot to introduce you as his wife because for him is common knowledge. Everyone knows Rex Lapis is married to the goddess of Song and Dawn. Everyone who is important to him knows you.
Those being, the adepti..
But the traveler saw you two eating together one afternoon. And they saw you walking together by the bay while holding hands. Another day he saw you clinging to Zhongli’s arm while he seemed to be explaining something to you.
They assumed you two were dating. They even got to speak to you for a commission, something about a ring made of noctiluose jade.
So Traveler being a little rascal started talking about you with Zhongli and he seemed to be happy to talk about you.
“When are you gonna ask her to marry you?” Traveler asks mischievously and Zhongli laughs and say the phrase.
The travelers gets all surprised but then asks how did that happened and Zhongli is proud to explain how he managed to ask for your hand.
Next time traveler meets you, they notice the ring around your finger.
However, they notice thewhole ring is made of Cor lapis.
As you notice their curious gaze you tell him the story about how Rex lapis made Cor lapis only to propose to you.
Which makes sense since Cor lapis literally means “Heart of stone”
Xiao
“Get your hands away from my wife!”
Xiao is not a man of many words, he’s terrible at expressing his feelings to everyone.
And I mean everyone, even with you.
However, you should know that he will never call you his wife if he isn't married to you.
This is because he once heard Zhongli telling something along the lines of: “Marriage is the most sacred of contracts”
Now listed, you two met because of Zhongli/Morax. You were the first minor Goddess who relinquished your divinity to Morax and was left almost with no power, so Morax asked Xiao to take care of you.
And Xiao, being the obedient Yaksha he is, took care of you during the Archon War, and maybe that’s why you survived to such massacre.
As I have stated before, Xiao is bad with his feelings but it is good that you can basically read his emotions.
Your love story was a very, agonizingly slow burn, however when Xiao understood that you were never going to leave him, that you loved him and there was no way to change that, only then he gave up trying to get away from you… and he asked you to marry him.
For hundreds of years, Xiao called you his wife only when you two were alone. For him it was a term of endearment.
“Wife” oh, he says it with such softness and love, it makes you fall for him again! You don’t even mind that your marriage is practically a secret.
But there’s always a first time for everything. And the first time he called you his wife in public… It was something else. It wasn’t something born from his love and devotion, it was a warning.
For what felt like years he had endured listening to men flirt with you in Wangshu Inn. Every god damn male seemed to have the goal of stealing you from him. There were some female humans trying to catch your attention, but they were more subtle, smarter.
There was a man who pretended to be interested in your life as an adventurer, asking questions all the time.There was another who tried to catch your attention with food. There was a woman who wanted to take pictures of you and always told you, you were perfect. The worst one, was the one who tried to teach you martial arts.
You only accepted out of pure pressure, since he insisted so much. You were already an excellent fighter, only that you used a weapon of your choice.
The worst part was that he always corrected you, pressing his palm in your abdomen or your lower back.
Xiao usually didn’t pay attention since he didn’t felt jealous, he only peaked since you were making that little sound of annoyance you always did. That small “mhhh”
When he saw that man putting his hands on your hips to “correct” your already perfect posture, he just lost it.
It wasn’t just his anger and frustration, that was his karmic debt taking control. In a second Primordial Jade Winged-Spear was in his hands and he attacked blindly.
The man let go of you and tried to be a hero, only to be hit and cut by Xiao. Let’s be sincere, if it weren’t for you the “martial art master” would be dead, because Xiao is extremely strong.
Anyway, you fought your dear husband and pinned him to the ground until he calmed down. The “martial art master” ran away half beaten, forgetting about you.
Let’s just say, no one has flirted with you since that day.
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1. 𝓑𝓲𝓻𝓽𝓱𝓭𝓪𝔂 𝓢𝓮𝔁
𝓢𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼: Inviting your incredibly nice and incredibly married family friend to your birthday party was not meant to be a way of seduction— or was it?
𝓢𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼 #2: You clean your neighbor and family friend Anakin’s house, and he comes to your birthday party with a special gift.
𝓒𝔀: bimbo! Reader, infidelity, age gap (reader is twenty, Anakin is in his mid to late thirties)— nsfw . oral (m & f recieving), vaginal fingering, smell kink, daddy kink, sub! Reader, dom! Anakin | | 𝓝𝓲𝓬𝓴𝓷𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓼 𝓾𝓼𝓮𝓭: angel, baby, little girl, sweetheart, dollface, kid, honey
𝓝𝓸��𝓮: This is part 1 of the Insatiable series ! (Click link for series masterlist)
You’ve never really liked Padme.
And honestly, it’s clear that she doesn’t like you that much either. You don’t know why— you’ve always been nothing but fake nice to her.
At least you have a reason to hate her— that reason being her absolute sex symbol of a husband. Or, aka, a man that’s been hanging around your family for as long as you can remember.
Your hate for Padme originally spawned from the fact that she married Anakin. But as the years have went on, your hate for her has reigned even more clearer than before. She lies, steals Anakin’s money, and cheats— a lot. You know about the last part because you’ve seen random men spew in and out of the house when Anakin is working to make money and pay for the things that she wants. And it enrages you— you don’t understand how she could treat someone as perfect, handsome, and kind as Anakin so terribly.
If he was yours, you would never let him go.
—
You decide to invite Anakin’s to your birthday party.
Of course, he’s always went to them— but reminding him wouldn’t hurt, right? So, on a sunny summer day, you decide to walk across the street to his house. A box of cookies in your hand and in your favorite short skirt due to the scorching hot weather, you knock and wait for him. When he answers, he’s in nothing but a t shirt and boxers. The sight of his muscled thighs and his strong arms makes you a little weak in the knees, but you try to shove your sinful thoughts down. It seems that Padme is gone— thank god. If she knew you were here, she’d have your head.
“Hi, Ani!” You greet sweetly. Although run down and exhausted, Anakin still gives you a smile back. You always lighten the man’s mood.
“Hi, sweetheart.” he replies back.
“Nice day, isn’t it?”
“I guess it is,” his eyes had avert down to the clear box in your hands, the lid pink and adorned with hello kitty stickers. “Are those for me?”
“Mhm! ” you say excitedly. “I just made them! I knew you’d want some.”
Of course you did. You always give your neighbors sweet treats— Anakin the most often, because he’s your favorite. And because you know he loves the things you bake.
Anakin’s steps towards you, a small smile playing on his lips.
“Always know when I need something sweet, don’t you, honey?”
He looks at you with true affection, though you can sense something teasing underneath that pleased lilt. You can feel heat creeping up your neck as he grabs the box from you.
“Thank you.” He says, after a moment. “Have a nice day.”
He goes to shut the door. You shuffle nervously, and then loudly, you blurt out, “Wait! You’re coming to my birthday party this weekend, right?”
Anakin’s brows furrow as he opens the door back up, but he seems amused by your question.
“Do you want me to?”
“I-I mean—“ you stutter, rolling forward on the balls of your feet. “Of course I do.”
“Hmm…” he pretends to think for a moment, a small smile grazing his lips. “And what do I get in return? I’d have to take a day off, if it’s on a Friday…”
Shit. It is on a Friday. You bite your lip, doe eyes looking around as you come up with a plan.
“I’ll.. clean your house?”
It’s a dumb suggestion, one that makes Anakin crane his neck to look back at his slightly cluttered home. He tries to act serious as he looks back at you and crosses his arms.
“What, do you think my house is… dirty, or something?”
You flush, immediately shaking your head.
“No! No, Ani, that’s not what I meant. I- I just… I know you work a lot, so I assume that it’d take a lot of strain off of you. God, I’m sorry-“
“I’m fucking with you,” he interrupts. A smirk glazes his lips. “I know what you meant.” His eyes sweep across your body, and you feel a little dizzy. After a moment, he relaxes and his face splits into a grin.
“Of course I’ll come to your birthday party, kid. Y’know I always do.”
“Okay!” You smile sheepishly, but nervously bite your lip as you speak again. “Uhm.. you don’t have to get me anything. Not at all.”
“I’m gonna get you something.” He states bluntly.
“Okay! That’s— that’s fine.” Your eyes avert from his piercing gaze, something that you should be used to after all these years but aren’t. “I’ll still clean your house, though. I can do it right now, if you want!” You pause, trying to think of how to word the next sentence.
“I… I wanna do something nice for you, Ani.”
There it is again. That look in Anakin’s eyes, hungry, as he steps closer to you once again.
“Well…” he murmurs. ““…Aren’t you just a sweet little girl?”
He brings his fingers up to tank top, toying with the thin material.
You’re slick with wetness, and suddenly feel very shy. Your eyes look down at the wooden porch below you as his fingers brush up on your collarbone. You’re too flustered to really speak again.
Anakin, done with his teasing (for now), steps back and gestures towards the inside of his home.
“Go on,” he says. “Cleaner’s in the cabinet below the sink. You know how I like things to be organized.”
—
Getting the yellow sponge handed to you wet and sudsy, you begin to work on his kitchen counters first. It’s not like they’re gross, per say— his house is more cluttered than nasty. As you intensely work on getting the countertop nice and clean, you can feel Anakin’s gaze pierce through your skin. He had decided to sit at the bar of the kitchen a few moments ago, after finishing half of the container of fresh chocolate chip cookies. Now clad in a pair of jeans and a white wifebeater, he lights a cigarette in his hand. Finally finishing up the counters, you decide to work on the dishes.
Anakin moves to the other side of the bar. He always keeps a radio in this spot, and with idle hands he turns the knob to up the volume a bit. You smile when you hear a Brittany Spears song blaring through the speakers. It’s not Anakin’s taste, but he keeps it on anyways. He knows Brittany is one of your favorite artists.
“So,” he starts, beginning to strike up a conversation. “Twenty one, huh?”
You nod, as you pick up the dish sponge in front of the sink.
“Yeah. Legal drinking age— thank god.” You chuckle, remembering all the times that Anakin had brought you alcohol when you wanted some but couldn’t buy it.
“You’re growing up so fast,” he inquires. You hear rustling behind you— he must be moving around the kitchen. “Not a little girl anymore… ‘s really starting to freak me out.”
“I guess so,” you laugh.
“Time flies.”
It’s quiet after that, for a moment. But something creeps up your neck, like Anakin’s eyes are burning through the back of your skull.
You can feel his presence moving closer to you.
Closer… closer.
And with wide eyes, you feel his breath on the back of your neck.
When did he get so close?
Anakin can’t help but stare at your behind as he watches you— your body is absolute stunning, your thighs soft and absolutely kissable. He loves watching the gap in between your legs as you shift from foot to foot. Loves watching and imagining what your pussy must look like. Probably so wet, so tight underneath that skimpy little outfit. His cock aches at the thought.
He’s feeling bold, now. He doesn’t know why — maybe because he saw his wife leave in a random car earlier that morning, or maybe because he saw the explicit pictures on her phone sent to another man the night before that had caused him to get extremely wasted. But either way, his fingertips reach up and graze your hip.
You exhale sharply, his touch setting off fireworks on your skin.
“It’s different now, isn’t it?” You say, and the insinuation in the question is obvious.
Anakin’s fingertips continue to brush your hips, and then slowly— he wraps his arms around you. Hugging you from behind, pressing his face into your neck and his obvious hard on against your ass.
“Yeah,” he agrees quietly. White hot heat licks up your spine at his gruff voice. “…very different.”
You know it’s fucked. You know it’s wrong. You know he’s fifteen years your senior, you know that he’s married, and you know that he’s been a family friend for years.
But something is tempting you to turn around.
Call it instinct, but your body adjusts to come face to face with the older man. He was closer than you thought he would be. His lips are almost grazing yours. Anakin’s got a look on his face that can only be described as holding back. His eyes shine with desperation and lust.
“Can I kiss you?”
It’s a sentence that seems to be more of a beg than a question. You can’t help but nod. And slow, like an awaiting storm, his lips are on yours— and that slowness soon gives way to electric sparks and teeth and tongue. His arms wrap around your waist, covering your body with his much wider one. He tastes like cigarettes and booze.
Your body is shoved against the sink. Anakin’s tongue rubs against the roof of your delicious, wet mouth. He can’t get enough. He kisses you and kisses you until lips feel bruised.
You savor this feeling, of him using your mouth as his own personal meal. And you fucking love it. No amount of guilt in your body can outweigh the neediness you have for him. Your arms wrap around his neck, and you part your legs so he can rest his hips against you. His jeans catch on your skirt— the flimsy material lifts up past your thighs. He follows the expanse of your legs and takes sight of your pink lacy underwear. Its cute, Anakin thinks, and his thumbs are about to pull them down and ravage you.
But you’re interrupted. Because as quick as lightening, Anakin’s phone is blaring out it’s loud call ringtone.
Jumping back, you and him are both surprised. He huffs, wiping at his kiss bitten lips as he makes way to pick up his phone.
The caller id reads “Padme”.
And fuck, you want to kill yourself right now. Of course, it has to be her of all people.
You hate her.
Anakin is quick to answer, and you can’t hear anything but a distraught voice on the other line.
“Padme? What is it?” His voice is laced with concern, but he lets out a breath when she yells something else. He sighs, his eyes glancing at your for a quick second as he rubs the bridge of his nose in frustration.
“Fuck. Okay, okay! I’ll come get you, just— stay there, alright?”
He hangs up with a groan, and turns to you.
“It’s just— Padme. Being Padme. She crashed the car… again. She’s fine, though.”
Unfortunately. You want to say. But you bite your tongue.
And just like that, the tension between you and Anakin goes back into hiding once again.
—
Friday comes quicker than you expect.
Your father and mother wake you up with your favorite breakfast, and you pick out your birthday outfit. It’s a pink dress with puffy sleeves, and you’ve been wanting to wear it for this occasion for months. Your birthday cake is your favorite flavor and decorated— of course— with hello kitty plastered on the frosting.
Your mother gushes at your dress, deciding to take many, many, many pictures of you. But you don’t complain— you’re grateful of all the decorations that she’s put up for you. They suit your taste.
You would’ve invited your friends but you figured this would be a family only type gathering. You may have a second party reserved just for them later.
It’s not long before your relatives arrives. Five o’clock on the dot, your cousins, uncles, aunts, and grandparents have all showed up. You open a few presents, have a good time, have some shots for the first time in front of your family. It’s fun.
But he still hasn’t showed up.
Looking at the clock— half past six now— you can’t help but be disappointed and upset. Anikan promised he would be here!
Your gut starts to churn with different anxieties. What if it was because of that moment back in his kitchen? What if he never wants to speak to you again?
But then, there he is. You hear the familiar roar of his black convertible outside— and your heart instantly soars.
He comes in a bit disheveled, as if he had rushed to get here, with a band tee and black jeans on. The way he still dresses like a young and corrupted boy amuses you— and also turns you on just a little bit.
He smiles when he sees you, and of course you smile right back. You’re so thankful he didn’t make Padma tag along with him— that would completely ruin this entire day.
“Hey, kid,” he says, as he pulls you in for a hug. His fingers trail down past your lower back and graze your ass, though know seems to notice.
“Hey, ani.”
“Happy birthday.” He congratulates you.
You thank him, and his eyes linger on yours for a bit too long as he speaks.
“You look nice.”
The butterflies tingle in your tummy again.
“So do you.”
And after that, it’s not long before everyone else recognizes his arrival and your dad is sweeping by and pulling him into one of his conversations.
As the night goes on, more of your family members slowly begin to leave. You prefer it this way; your judgy aunt Hilda was becoming way too much for you to bear right now. You’re sitting on the living room couch with your mom when she asks you to go and get her bag from the kitchen.
And when you go into the room, Anakin is there. And not only that, but he’s alone. He’s leaned up against your refrigerator drinking a beer.
Your eyes lock with his, and he follows the outline of your curves as you pick up your mom’s bag.
“Everyone leaving?”
His voice rings out through the room, piercing the awkward silence. You shrug, becoming intensely concentrated on the granite countertops all of a sudden.
“It’s late.” You reply. And then, in a smaller voice, “You were late.”
He sighs, and you look back to see him running his hands through his dark locks of hair. He looks frustrated.
“I know, honey. Im sorry. I had work, you know that. And… Padma’s been giving me a rough time.”
“When isn’t she?”
It isn’t meant to come off as snarky as it does, but your comment has Anakin huffing out a breath of air.
“Don’t give me attitude, okay? Im here, aren’t I?” He moves beside you, a look of guilt flashing across his face. You don’t say anything— you simply look at him with those eyes. Those pretty, doe like eyes that Anakin can’t bring himself to stop looking into. His eyes trail down to your lips.
“We should talk,” He says. “About..last weekend.”
You really don’t want to. That’s all you can gather right now. You half heartedly take your mom’s bag into your grasp and gesture towards it.
“I have to go give this to my mom,” you mutter. “See you around, Anakin.”
—
The night is over, but Anakin still hasn’t left. You wouldn’t expect him too, though. He stays over late once or twice a week sometimes to chat with your father. You’ve showered, gotten rid of the pesky hairdo that had taken you hours to do and was so frustrating the whole night but still was worth it anyway, and painted your toes a fresh, hot pink. You’re extremely happy to have your nightgown on, now. That dress was very tight.
Your bedroom door is open, but you don’t mind it. You can hear the sound of a football game from downstairs as you read one of your favorite magazines. Too busy wondering which breaking bad character you are through a printed out quiz in the booklet, you don’t even realize Anakin is at your door until he knocks.
It makes you jump, and when you whirl around to see who it is your bones almost jump out of your skin.
“You scared the shit out of me!” You exclaim. You slam the magazine down onto your vanity, and Anakin chuckles.
“Sorry.”
His footsteps approach you, but not before they’re moving so he can close your door shut. You become drastically nervous now that he’s alone with you. He must’ve made up some excuse about having to go to the bathroom so he could sneak up here.
“What are you doing in here, Ani?” You question feebly. He shrugs, taking a seat on your silky pink bed.
“What? Do I have to have an excuse to see the birthday girl?”
You shyly turn back to face your Vanity mirror. You begin to concentrate on brushing your hair. In the reflection you can see that Anakin is watching you.
“We both know that’s not why.” You reply quietly.
“I guess you’re right,” Anakin agrees. “Maybe it’s because I want us to continue where we left off. ”
Face flushing, you baffle yourself by throwing out an unintentionally disgusting line.
“So you wanna do me in my bedroom while my dad is downstairs? Is that it?”
Anakin smirks, amused, leaning back and seeming cocky. He doesn’t say anything, but you know that the answer is yes.
You turn around, watching this older man manspreading on your bed. Against your better judgement you decide to get out of the chair and sit beside him.
He smiles fondly at the closeness. His fist closes around something in his pocket.
“I got you something.” He says. “Your present. Open your hand.”
It’s a scary request, because Anikan has played tricks on you before by telling you this. Sticking a whole snake in your hand one time and making you cry for hours on end after is proof of how much of an asshole he can be sometimes. But he seems to be genuine, and this is your birthday present, so you hold out your hand for him to take.
He pulls out a box. Anyone could recognize it as one that has jewelry inside the packaging. And you were right. Because when you open it, you’re blessed to see a beautiful set of diamond earrings encrusted with your initials.
You gasp, picking them up and admiring them with excitement.
“Thank you so much, Ani!”
Your gushing over the present makes Anakin’s chest swell, and he’s surprised when you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in for a hug.
It’s been a while since Anakin has been hugged like this. Padme hasn’t touched him in months, or shown him any type of affection. Surprised but pleased, he’s quick to return it, his big arms wrapping around your waist and burying his face in your neck. The smell of your natural scent and strawberry perfume fills his nostrils. He pulls away after a moment. You see the wedding band on his finger, and it brings reality back to you.
“Where’s Padme?” You ask slowly, questionably, but still genuinely curious.
He doesn’t seemed angry by the question, but Anakin’s mouth forms into a thin line.
“Out.” he states. “Probably fucking some random guy she met on tinder.”
“She doesn’t deserve you,” You say, and frown, hand reaching out to touch his bicep. “You’re so nice, and she’s so mean to you. I hate her.”
“Don’t say that. You’re too nice to hate anybody.”
“But it’s true!” You exclaim. “I hate her.” And then, quietly. “She has you and I don’t… ‘S not fair.”
Anakin doesn’t like when you get sad, and he especially doesn’t like when you remind him of that fact.
“I’m not hers, y/n.” He replies, and it’s the truth. His feet move closer to your angry form. “I never have been.”
“Then why are you still with her? Why aren’t you with me?”
“How do you expect me to be with you, y/n? What do you think everyone would say?”
It’s actually a good point, but you dont want to think about that right now.
His arms wrap around your waist, and his face finds the crook of his neck as he breathes you in. You sigh, looking up to the ceiling, your pink curtains, anything but him.
“I want you,” he whispers to you. You try so hard not to look at him. “I want you so bad, angel.”
“You don’t know what you want, Anakin.”
“Fifteen years older than you and I don’t know what I want?” He scoffs, his lips forming into a thin line. “I know what I want.”
His voice takes a much darker turn then, something twinged with arousal and feral possession. “I want to bend you over your vanity and pound my cock into you until I can’t see straight. I want to kiss you, hold you… I’ve wanted it since you were nineteen years old. Cmon, sweets. Why don’t you let me in?”
Let me in. You shiver, and your clothes become unbearably uncomfortable on your body.
“I don’t know, Ani..”
“It’s okay, baby.” He coos, comforting. “Why don’t you let uncle Ani give you the second part of your birthday present, huh? Cmon, let me make you feel good.”
Its once again, truly fucked.
But with the way he’s holding you now, with the words spilling from his lips in that tone.. god, your knees are buckling. You sigh, and mindlessly you begin to run your hands down his body.
“I don’t want you to ever mention Padme to me” you reason with him, as your hands circle his waist. “Ever. Only ever talk about me.”
“I won’t mention her. She’s dead to me.”
You contemplate more deals to make, and then pout. “And I want to be paid for all that cleaning I did last week!”
“Done.”
It’s insane how quickly he agrees to what you want. But alas, he does.
And when his lips press against yours for a second time, you can’t resist falling into him and finally giving in.
To Anakin, you taste like your chapstick— he doesn’t know what flavor it is, but he wants to figure it out soon so he can buy it for himself and always have that familiar sweetness on his mouth. His arms wrap around your waist and he’s desperate, practically consuming you with a neediness he has never felt for anyone else. His teeth scrape against your bottom lip and you feel his tongue enter the warm canal of your mouth. Mewling and pulling yourself away, you press your half naked body against him and begin to trail kisses down his neck.
“Wanna suck you…” you whine. “but—your house— not here..”
Your hands grope his thighs, then one of them moves up and takes hold of his awaiting bulge. He’s big, and you can tell by how fat he feels in your palm already. He lets out a moan, pressing himself further into you and breathing against your cheek, “Yes, here.”
And so be it. You know once Anakin decides something, it’s going to get done. If he wants it, you’ll give it to him. You drop to your knees in an instant, previous request forgotten, pawing at the confines of his jeans and unbuckling his belt. He watches you through hooded eyelids, watches the way your mouth practically drools as you pop the button on his fly and unzip him. His briefs are almost cute. They have little looney toons characters on them. Scoffing and letting out a giggle at the sight of these on a thirty six year old man, who probably knew he was gonna get laid, you look up at him.
“Nice underwear.”
“Shut up,” he groans, gripping your hair with his big hands. “Just suck my cock, baby. C’mon, please?”
Slick forms and leaks down your thighs at his words. Jokes forgotten, you pull the silly material down and his aching cock springs free. Slapping against his stomach, all big and thick with a patch of brown hair at the base, you can see a drop of precum beading on the tip. Your thumb brushes over the spot and smears the creamy liquid around the head of his cock. He exhales sharply, his grip on your hair tightening.
“Shit,” he hisses, eyes shutting closed at the feeling of your hands.
“Ani,” you breathe. Your tongue licks a stripe up his cock, licking up the dribbles of fluid you had just smeared. You lick your lips with need. “You taste so good.”
“Yeah?” He bucks his hips against your face, watching how you greedily slurp his cock into your mouth. “Look at you, baby. Such a needy girl.”
You hum around him, making sure to breathe so the man doesn’t strangle you with his fat cock. The smell of his arousal invades your senses, and your head gets fuzzy. You down him all the way to his base— pressing your nose against the hair there, you almost pass out from how good it all is. He smiles, watching how easily you submit to him. He begins to thrust shallowly into your mouth.
“So fuckin’ good, angel. ” He grunts. “Take it this isn’t the first cock you’ve sucked? Shit— too good at it to not have been dicked down or throat fucked at least twice.”
You moan around him, knowing it’s true. But all the men you’ve hooked up with, they’ve always been older, brunette, with tattoos and an interest in ratty band t shirts— all of them have looked like Anakin. They’ve always looked like Anakin.
Looking down at you, Anakin’s gaze is hypnotized by your glossed lips moving up and down on his cock. His balls slap against your chin at a rapid pace, his cock aching for a warm release. He thinks about what you look like underneath that dress, thinks about how you’re such a fucking bitch for making him give into his raw and primal sensations like this.
“Don’t think you need to call me Anakin anymore, baby,” he inquires, with a growl grazing his plump lips. “Fuck… think you need a daddy, instead. One that’ll actually discipline you—“ he yanks on your head when you try to lift up and get some air, forcing you back down on him. “— and not let you act like a fuckin’ brat. Do you like tempting married men all the time like this, huh? Do you like tempting all of your dad’s friends? Don’t lift your fucking head up, baby, ‘m not done…”
Whining against his cock, your hand moves down against your clit. His degradations are making you desperate to reach your peak— and as fucked up as it is, yes, you do want to call him daddy, want him to take care of you and always keep your throat as his own personal fleshlight for his aching prick. His grip on your hair is causing blinding pain but it doesn’t matter.
As long as you please him.
He finally pulls you off of him, after a moment. Your chin is caked with drool, your eyes watery and tears streaming down your cheeks. You’re gasping, finally gulping in air after being smothered for so long.
“Breathe, honey,” Anakin murmurs, sweet despite his initial angry throat fucking. His thumb grazes your bottom lip. “Breathe for me.. there you go. Good girl.”
Relaxing against his thighs, you’re unbearably hot.
“Daddy..” you cry against him, wrapping your arms around his thick thigh. He frowns.
“Too much?” He asks, concerned. “Do you wanna stop? Or we could take a break..”
His caring demeanor makes your heart clench, and you can feel the tears actually stream down your cheeks now. No one has ever cared for you like this.
But as overwhelmed as you’re feeling, your pussy aches like no other and if you stop for even a millisecond you think you’ll die. You shake your head.
“No, daddy.“
He looks down at you, brows furrowed, and he nods.
“Okay, pretty. Cmon, stand up.” He gestures for you to get onto your feet, and when you ask why, he leans in close to your ear and gestures to your large vanity.
“I wanna fuck you.” He coos gently. “Wanna bend you over, right there. Can I?”
You nod as you pick yourself up on wobbly legs. You fall into him, allowing him to guide you over to the large table. He bends your pretty body over it, your ass in the air.
Anakin’s fingers play with the hem of your night. He loves it on you, thinks the color is so sweet and hypnotizing, but it has to come off or he thinks he’ll go crazy. He lifts up the fabric, yanking the material off to reveal yourself to him. Your cunt is exposed, all puffy, creamy, and slick. Anakin takes note that you aren’t wearing underwear and that your ass is almost too perfect. His hand comes down to lightly smack one of your cheeks. You whine, backing yourself up against him.
“Like a fuckin’ porn star,” he groans. “Body like a fuckin’ porn star, dollface. It’s perfect. And no panties? Sweetheart, you’re a dream.”
His finger ghosts over your swollen clit, and your hips buck against him desperately.
“Thank you, daddy. Wanted to be ready for you. Knew I wouldn’t be able to stay way if you started touching me..”
He smiles, his fingers spreading your slick across your button and down to your slit. He slips a finger inside, and you gasp a little bit. He rubs against your walls with his long digits, and he hits a certain spot that has your thighs crushing his hand. A smile forms on his face.
“Already?” He chuckles as he watches your desperation, rubbing against that spongy spot inside you. Your legs quiver. “Have you ever even been fingered before?”
“N-N-“ you pause, as he slips in another finger beside his first one. He begins to thrust rapidly, a burn forming in your core but nonetheless it feels fucking amazing. “No, no guy’s ever wanted to.”
“How the fuck could they not want to?” Anakin scoffs, baffled. Your wetness coats his fingers in creamy strings as he pulls them in and out of you. “Jesus, you’ve really been needing me. Huh, baby?”
“Always need you,” you whine. You’re close already; it’s insane how much Anakin’s touch affects you. Your wetness makes a loud gushing sound as he continuously finger fucks you. After a moment there’s rustling behind you, and Anakin’s fingers leave you. You whimper, but it’s not long before you’re moaning again when Anakin drops to his knees.
You’ve always dreamed of his tongue; watched how it looked poking his bottom lip, when he rubbed the inside of his cheek and made a noticeable bulge. And now, spreading your pussy lips with his strong hands, Anakin doesn’t hesitate to dive into your drenched cunt.
You gasp, his tongue beginning to draw harsh circles on your clit and then go back down to your tight hole. He pushes the muscle in as far as it can go, feeling against your walls. He practically whines as he does it— never in his life, not even with the woman he had decided to marry ten years ago, has he ever tasted a pussy this good. His cock is still out and rubbing against your calf, all wet and red and hard.
And after he makes you cum, he intends to split you in half with it.
He begins gliding his tongue over your clit again, and shoves his fingers back inside of you. Working you over and over, you can feel that you’re about to reach your peak. You can’t even say anything— his tongue is too perfect, too wet and warm against your aching bundle of nerves. The only thing that can leave your lips is his name as you cream all over his handsome face. You ride your high out with your hand behind you, burying itself in his black hair.
Breathing heavily, Anakin moves back up to grab your neck and turn your face towards his. He kisses you, passionate and with something else you can’t quite place. He grinds his cock against your lower back.
“Gonna fuck you now,” he grunts, as he lifts one of your legs up onto the vanity’s surface. It gives him easier access, and he bumps his tip up against your entrance. “You okay with that?”
You nod instantly.
At your confirmation, Anakin breaches your hole and pushes in slow.
It hurts at first. You’ve taken cock but never any as big as his. He holds your leg with one hand and your hip with the other. You can feel every ridge, every vein as he breaks you apart on him. Your head is down and the vanity digs into your skin, but it doesn’t matter because the way that Anakin holds you makes you feel safe, protected. As if your entire family isn’t downstairs, as if he isn’t taking you like a cheap whore in your childhood bedroom, while his wife is taking a ride in the car that he bought for her.
But you don’t think about that. You just close your eyes, bite your lip, and gratefully accept the birthday present beginning to pound your guts.
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bambi eyes (3) r. cameron
[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
word count: 3.4k
In which you do your best to deal with your Daddy's mood swings.
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You felt like you were seeing Rafe less and less as the next two weeks went on. He was stressed about what was going on with work. He often paced back and forth in front of you, ranting, although he was never specific about the details of what was going on.
You noticed that he grabbed you tighter, pushed you harder into the mattress, and talked less during sex whenever something outside was affecting him. You were starting to accept it; it never hurt too much, and you’d be more scared if he weren’t interested in you in that way. If he didn’t want to be intimate with you, then there was a chance he wouldn’t want you anymore.
As much as Rafe promised you this was permanent, you couldn’t fully believe him. He had done all of this just for you, so you had to be able to offer him something special in return.
Like Rafe wanted, you established a routine. Every morning the birds would wake you up exactly at eight, and you’d make your bed which kept you from napping all day. Staying in your room was causing your imagination to stretch. You found new ways to entertain yourself, including trying on all the clothes in your wardrobe and throwing elaborate tea parties with all your stuffed animals and dolls.
One night that you thought would be like the last twelve nights, Rafe came to you after Lana had already brought you dinner. He wasn’t dressed in his usual khakis and dress shirt but in sweatpants and a pullover. You were curled up on the window seat, drawing flowers in a notebook, when Rafe came over to join you.
“Hi,” You spoke softly. He placed a warm hand on your knee, and you slowly closed your notebook.
“Hi, baby,” There was an ease and calmness to his voice that made you believe he’d actually had a good day, “What are you working on? Show me.”
You sat up, leaning closer, as you handed him the notebook. You hid slightly behind your knees as Rafe began to flip through the pages. At this point, you’d covered half of the pages in your doodles, “Oh wow, these are really pretty, Bambi,” He smiled with his entire face, including his bright eyes, “We should hang some of these on the fridge.”
You felt a bit of relief, hearing that he liked him, “I have more. Way more. I’ve colored a lot of the coloring books.”
“Go get them, I’ll pick my favorites,” Excitedly, you got up from the window seat. When you set several full coloring books in his lap, Rafe’s lips parted in shock, “Okay, wow, I don’t think I realized how much coloring you’d been doing.”
“I think it’s fun,” You said.
“Good, I want you to have fun,” Rafe nodded, “But have you worn down all your color pencils? How come you haven’t asked for more?”
You shrugged when Rafe gave you an inquisitive look, “I try to take care of the ones I have.”
“Would you even ask Daddy for more coloring books if you ran out of pages to color?”
“Maybe,” You spoke honestly.
The idea of asking for more than what Rafe had already given you did make your heart race. Rafe shook his head at something, “Daddy will get you lots more art supplies. Maybe you could try painting?”
“We could paint together?” You perked up.
“Yeah, yeah,” Rafe assured you, “I’m really, really sorry I haven’t been here as much as I’ve wanted to. Needed to, really. It’s just … I’m working on a lot of things right now, you know?”
“I’ve been okay,” You said, “Lana has been kind to me.”
“Good, good, I want you to be happy here, you know? That’s why I want you comfortable asking for things,” You watched Rafe’s eyes wander towards the bookshelf, “Like your books. I never see you reading them. Do you not like them?”
“I do,” You said quickly.
Rafe started to stare deeply at you, “What-what is it?”
“I . . . “
“I can pick some different ones for you? What do you like?”
“I like it when you read to me, Daddy,” Rafe tilted his head and the mentioning of his nickname didn’t light up his features like usual, “It’s hard for me. I never needed to … do that.”
He paused, which made you think you’d done something wrong, “You’ve never needed to read?”
“I can do it,” You said, “It’s hard when they’re all together, and there’s so many… the words. I’m sorry you think I don’t like the books you picked. I really do. I will try harder–”
“Hey, hey, hey,” Rafe rushed to put the coloring books aside and grab ahold of your face, “I just didn’t know, that’s it. You didn’t do anything wrong. At all.”
It wasn’t something you’d ever felt embarrassed about, but now you couldn’t help but feel stupid. Deep down, you felt a guy like Rafe deserved someone better. He deserved someone smarter than you.
You closed your eyes, wanting to hang your head, but Rafe said, “Look at me, hey,” Weakly, you did, “I’ve been thinking that you should spend more time with Lana instead of being cooped up in here. At least until I can take care of this … one problem I have. She’d be happy to have some company. And, if you want to learn, she could help you with your reading.”
“You don’t care?”
“Not at all, look, don’t worry. I’ve got you, sweet girl,” He said. Rafe leaned in to peck your nose before he brought your lips together. You melted into him, realizing then how much you missed him when he was gone, “You know what I was thinking?”
You stared back at Rafe, who had a mischievous look in his eye.
“We should take the boat out.”
“Now? Where?”
“Just on a short ride to get you some fresh air. It’ll be cold, so let’s find you some warmer clothes, yeah?”
It was a rhetorical question; Rafe was already making his way over to your wardrobe. You looked down at the small silk pajama set you were wearing. You’d seen all the boats out by the dock but hadn’t imagined that Rafe would take you out on one. “Lift your arms,” You did exactly as he said, pulling a light blue sweatshirt over your head. He also chose long pajama bottoms, helping you get into those, too, “You want to bring one of your stuffies?”
Your excitement mixed with your anxiety as you put on your slippers. It was a hard decision to make about which stuffed animal you wanted to bring, but you settled on Fin, your silvery-blue dolphin, “Excellent choice.”
Rafe grabbed your hand, leading you downstairs, “Do you think we’ll see a real dolphin?”
“Well, they tend to be more active during the day, and it’ll be dark soon … but maybe if you wish really, really hard.”
The air was much cooler outside than you expected, and you certainly didn’t expect it to feel so strange being in the fresh air. You turned in a circle just so you could take in the sky, the trees, the house, and everything around you.
You followed a determined Rafe across the yard and towards the deck. He chose one of the smaller boats, although there was room for at least four more people. You yelped when Rafe grabbed you by your waist suddenly and lifted you inside. Another yelp escaped your lips as the boat rocked under the pressure of your weight, “You’re okay, don’t worry,” He didn’t have to tell you to take a seat or be still; you decided you wouldn’t move at all, “One . . . moment.”
You watched through the corner of your eyes as Rafe untied the roaps keeping the boat tethered to the dock. The boat rocked again as Rafe hopped inside, causing you to grip Fin in one hand and grip the side of the boat in the other.
You sat in the seat right across from Rafe as the boat slowly pulled off towards deeper water. As the boat became more steady, you turned your head and watched Tannyhill get smaller and smaller. The orange and blue sky reflected off the water, creating an insanely beautiful view. You sailed towards the horizon, the son looking half submerged in the water, “How do you feel?” Rafe yelled over the sound of the motor, “Wanna go faster?”
You nodded, a smile growing on your face, “My little daredevil, huh?” You sat up on your knees, wanting to see more. You get a better look at Figure 8, seeing lots of huge houses along the beach, although none of them compare to Tannyhill. Rafe pointed out different landmarks for you, including the country club and a huge lighthouse out in the water. In your eyes, this night made every other night where you worried about your place with Rafe worth it.
“Go ahead, you can give it a taste test,” Lana conceded, allowing you to dip your finger into the chocolate cake batter. A few days after your night out with Rafe, Lana was showing you how to make the perfect chocolate cake. You thought she might be exaggerating about how perfect it was until you were licking your finger. An excited moan left your mouth and you bounced on the balls of your feet, “It’s great, isn’t it? Espresso powder is the key.”
“It really is,” You agreed.
“Now, wash your hands. It’s time to pour our batter.”
The entire day Lana had told you exactly what to do and how to do it. You didn’t mind listening or following her directions as she usually spoke to you warmly. Besides that, you wanted to learn exactly how to take care of things around the house, knowing that Rafe would appreciate your help when Lana couldn’t be here. The two of you cleaned the entire downstairs, did several loads of laundry, washed the windows in the glass patio, and even had time for a reading lesson in the early morning. She informed you that she homeschooled her youngest son and that she would try to teach you in a similar way.
As you washed your hands, you glanced out the side window towards the dock. You could see Rafe far out on the dock, standing with the same business associate who came to the house a few weeks ago. They weren’t alone like you were expecting; someone was on their knees a few feet ahead of them, their head slumped over. You squinted your eyes, trying to see more of them, although Rafe and his business associate shouting at each other blocked your view, “What are they doing out there? Who’s that?” Lana came over to where you were standing, peeking out just like you were.
Whatever business Rafe was involved in, Lana didn’t seem to care for it, “Mr. Cameron and Barry, they’re always at each other’s throats,” She shook her head, “Come, dry your hands. The oven is heated.”
You did as she said, turning your head away. There were going to be several layers to your cake, meaning you had three pans to fill, and after that, you and Lana would make the icing. Just as your mind wandered back to Rafe, you heard him coming through the kitchen door.
He wiped the sweat from his forehead, pacing for a moment before his dark eyes landed on you, “Bambi, let’s … uhm, go upstairs,” His voice was shaky and deeper than normal, “Come here.”
“We’re-We’re just about to put the cake in the oven. It’s for tonight, and we’re going to make homemade icing too–”
“Now …please,” He said the last word like it was painful, “It’s time for you to go back to your room.”
No, no, no, a voice repeated in your head.
“But Lana was going to teach me how to ice the cake, too and she —”
“Fine,” Rafe snapped, his hand slamming against the counter before he rolled his eyes, “Just stay here.”
As Rafe stomped away, you knew you had something horribly wrong. You’d seen him in a similar mood before but he never directed any of his vitriol towards you before. Whatever had happened on the dock had clearly upset him. You really wanted to finish working with Lana. More than anything, you didn’t want to be locked in your room for another long period of time.
After taking a breath, or attempting to take one, you turned to Lana, “I didn’t mean… I-I should go say sorry.”
“You might want to let him calm down a little bit, sweetheart,” You’d already made up your mind. You reached behind your neck to undo the top of your apron, “Turn around, let me help you. He’s not mad at you.”
“How do you know?”
“I know who he is,” She spoke simply, “Don’t take anything too personally with Mr. Cameron.”
“You can finish without me; I’m sorry, but thank you for today,” You said as you started to walk away. After you saw her nod, a sad smile on her face, you turned away and sped for the stairs.
You approached Rafe’s bedroom moments later, hesitantly turning the knob, “Daddy?” You called, peeking inside. You called him again. He wasn’t in the main room but the shower was running in the bathroom, “Rafe?”
You jumped when he suddenly appeared in the bathroom doorframe, shirtless and his belt undone. This time, you notice his bruised hands and bloody knuckles.
“I didn’t mean to make you upset, Daddy.”
“Get down on your knees,” He stared you down. When you tried to come closer, he said, “No, drop to your knees right there.”
You felt your knees brush against the bedroom rug, “Crawl to me.”
If Rafe wanted you to feel even smaller, then his plan was successful. You did as he said, seeing no other option, and crawled towards him. You watched as he palmed himself over his briefs, and you could already feel him stretching you, pulling your hair, and leaving marks on your bottom. This wouldn’t last, you told yourself; he would be gentle with you another time.
Your sage dress had ridden up your body, exposing your floral patterned white panties.
“You’re gonna suck my cock and swallow all my cum. And then you’re gonna thank Daddy for letting you.”
You’d do exactly as your Daddy wanted, hoping he’d take your sore throat and tears as a sufficient apology.
Once you were soundly asleep in his bed, Rafe slipped out. He had a huge, bloody problem waiting for him in the cabin of his boat. Luckily, JJ Maybank was still the degenerate he used to be, and no one except his Pogue girlfriend would come looking for him anytime, “Son of a bitch isn’t talking,” Barry grunted out, meeting Rafe at the beginning of the dock, “Knocked two of his bottom teeth out and he’s still not motivated.”
Rafe had done everything possible to limit any competition he might face in Kildare. All small-time dealers would be working for someone who worked for Rafe. This was meant to be Rafe’s island yet somehow, Maybank was getting supplies from the mainland and was stealing his customers.
“We could take his girl.”
Rafe contemplated Barry’s question before shaking his head, “If she comes around trying to find him, we might have no choice. I’m sure that will motivate him.”
Rafe could see Barry’s eyes wandering to Kie. Part of him would love to see JJ squirm if they got their hands on her. You were the reason he didn’t think too long about that. Barry, on the other hand, Rafe would let him do whatever he wanted with Kie. In the end, Rafe wanted JJ to talk, to give up his sources, but he’d be just fine killing him.
“I hope,” Barry crossed his arms, “Not exactly looking forward to dealing with the body.”
“We don’t have to deal with that shit anymore; I know who to pay to handle it,” Rafe said, “Speaking of, I think I-uh need some more security here. I want guards all around the perimeter. Because of the amount of merchandise and if we’re going to be taking captives, you know. I want this place to be a fortress.”
“Your merchandise, huh?” Barry flashed Rafe a knowing look, “You got any liquor in that big house?”
Rafe gestured his head toward the house, signaling to Barry to follow behind him.
“If Kie doesn’t come for him and if he still has no information to offer us, we kill him. No more torture, no mess, one gunshot to the temple,” Rafe instructed, his mind racing with what their next moves should be. The more planning beforehand, the better, and the less likely it would come back to them, “That’ll send a message to the rest of the Pogues too. They work for me, or they work for no one.”
“And after you’ve cornered the market?”
“That’s just the start of everything else,” Rafe led Barry through the first floor, towards his office. Ward always used to keep his office stocked with liquor as it came in handy for important meanings. Rafe learned people will often let down their barriers and concede to more under the influence of alcohol. He opened the door for him, allowing him to enter.
“Whoa,” Barry said, walking inside just as Rafe heard a soft gasp from a familiar voice. Eyebrows raised, Rafe entered behind him to find what had shocked him, “Is this the new Mrs. Cameron?”
With wide eyes, Rafe took you in. You were in the same clothes Rafe left you in, one of his white button-ups and your knee-high socks, “What are you doing down here?” You slowly stepped behind Rafe’s desk, and he could tell you were trying to hide yourself.
“I-I couldn’t find you.”
Rafe’s jaw jutted forward, his arms crossed, as he said, “You’re supposed to be sleeping.”
Your lips parted to say something, but Barry interrupted, “C’mon, man, it’s not even midnight! Introduce me to your girl. We can all have a drink,” He grabbed ahold of Rafe’s shoulder. You would think Barry had one the lottery based on the look in his eyes. By complete accident, Barry had stumbled on Rafe’s biggest treasure, “I’ll behave, I promise.”
“She doesn’t drink.”
Rafe was frustrated, mostly because he should’ve been keeping closer track of you. He’d given you that necklace for a reason. A new idea crossed his mind, one he wasn’t expecting, and some of his anxiety eased. He was far from embarrassed of you, he’d chosen you for a reason, but part of Rafe wanted Barry to envy him at that moment.
Rafe sighed, waving you closer to the two of them, “Bambi, this is Barry. Barry, this is Bambi,” Smoothly, Rafe grabbed ahold of your waist, pulling you into him.
“Hi,” You said shyly, “It’s nice to meet you.”
When Barry held his hands out to you, your eyes darted towards Rafe as if to ask permission. Agreement crossed his face, and Rafe watched you shake his hand. Barry was fully taking you in, of course, but Rafe knew a handshake would be the extent of his closeness with you.
“The pleasure is all mine, beautiful.”
“Chill out, dude. Sit down,” Rafe instructed Barry, pulling you along.
Barry made himself comfortable on the leather couch and Rafe motioned you to sit across in one of the leather chairs.
“How you liking Kildare?”
“It’s really nice,” Rafe heard you respond as he poured two glasses of whiskey for him and Barry, “There’s so many big houses, and … it’s just really pretty.”
“You ain’t seen much then, have you?” Rafe handed Barry his glass, flashing a warning with his eyes, “All the girls where you’re from, they as pretty as you?”
“I . . . I don’t know,” You laughed nervously.
Rafe placed a hand on your shoulder, and you looked up at him, “Why don’t you go get Barry a slice of that chocolate cake you made?”
Rafe assumed it would ease your nervousness if you could share what you made. “Okay, Daddy,” You smiled at both men, and both men watched you closely as you walked out of the room, “I’ll be right back.”
“Pretty and obedient,” Barry whistled, “I need to travel more.”
A/N: Thank you all so much for your support on the first two chapters BUT psa you will not be added to my taglist if you're not reblogging the fic and letting me know your thoughts! It is crazy to me that people will ask me to tag them in the next chapter when they have neither liked nor reblogged the fic. Constructive feedback is more encouraging than just commenting "PART 4" or "tag me in part 4" :)
PART 4
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KITTY/PUPPY BOYS!
Kitty!Scaramouche, Kitty!Xiao, Puppy!Venti, Puppy!Kazuha, Kitty!Cyno
Warnings: Afab!reader, Pegging, Hybrids, Fluff, Smut, Overstimulation (If I forgot anything else tell me please and I’ll edit it right away!
SORRY FOR ALL THE TAGS
KittyScaramouche loves eating your out, it’s his favorite thing, lavishing his tongue on your clit, he gets so messy. You’re free to cum as much as you want but just know it’s not for your pleasure but his, the loud sucking sounds turns him on so much, he’ll slip his hands beneath his pants and touch himself while listening to lewd moans and the sound of your cunt.
KittyXiao is rather stand offish with you, but he is a great help around the house, offering to help you cook dinner, washing dishes, or simply just helping you relax, he hates seeing you overwork yourself and your body with all the boys, so on days Xiao says to take it easy he really really means it: there’s no reason to defy him since he’ll prevent you from even moving from your bed.
KittyXiao is so clingy during sex, he hates positions where he can’t see your face to give you messy sloppy kisses. He loves being on top looking down at you, spreading you open wide fucking his cock Into you at a fast pace. Your pussy really is his favorite: the way you engulf his cock and clench around him sooo good, he really doesn’t last that long but you don’t shame him or laugh at him. When hes about to cum he’ll lean down to kiss you for long periods of time while gasping into your mouth, he’ll go quiet while still slipping little moans out here and there then still and fill you to the brim with cum.
PuppyVenti! He is the definition of naughty and nice, he’ll be all sweet and smother you with all the love and affection and the next minute hes scaring the life out of you while doing something stupid. Venti loves kisses especially when you wear lipstick, bright red lipstick that’ll stick out to the other boys in the house. He’ll walk around the house and parade them for all to see, purposely making them jealous. They’ll all come to you (minus Xiao, Cyno and kazuha) and ask for the same treatment.
PuppyVenti! Oh this puppy loves being dominated, he can’t help the way he yelps and cries when you use your strap on him, it feels so incredibly good: the way you hit his g-spot over and over. Venti hates when you hold back on him, give it to him mean, don’t feel pity for him, fuck him where it hurts. He’s so cute when you cup his chubby ruined face, so cute when you connect your lips with his only to pull away when he tries to make the kiss last longer.
PuppyKazuha! Isn’t really as lovely dovey as the other boys, but he does enjoy time alone with you. Going to cute cafes and ordering your favorite drinks, eating delicious treats and chatting up about the good times, he just loves to reminisce about things.
PuppyKazuha! Loves a good rub behind his ear, or at the base of his tail it drives him insane. He really likes when your touch lingers for more than it needs to, it makes him feel so special and loved. Going back to his tail, the tip is oh so sensitive, sometimes you play with it without even noticing how it’s making him feel. His body gets so warmed up and red, when you do twist the tip of your fingers around his tail he can already feel his cock stirring: with just a tiny bit of friction. You notice little noises coming out of his throat and quickly apologized for doing it again. you’ll kiss his cheeks and offer to help get rid of his little”issue,” your fingers ghosting over his cock and rubbing him just right, don’t say anything about the wet patch already forming you’ll embarrass him even further.
KittyCyno! Is basically the one who keeps the boys in order, he keeps them checked incase they ever feel the need to disrespect you and what you do for all them. Cyno likes to do housework just like Xiao, he’s surprisingly the one who loves going shopping with you: honestly he’s just there for the way you look so perfect in your clothes, clapping and appreciating the way those clothes look so good on you.
KittyCyno! Cyno is so Rough with you, he in the end always apologizes of course but there’s just something about the way you squeeze and milk his cock for all its worth. He gets so needy and he needs all of you, when it’s just the both of you alone he’ll ask you to cockwarm him just for a few minutes, it’s never just a few minutes: he’ll keep you on his lap for hours at a time, even when the other boys are asking for your attention, Cyno just basks in your eyes on him and only him. Your clit feels like it’s on fire with the amount of orgasms he’s given, even when you’re soaked, eyes droopy and mouth agape he’ll keep stocking you with loads of his cum.
BONUS:
Cyno and Xiao get along the most in the house, they take on a powerful figure in the house, especially when you’re gone somewhere.
Scaramouche lowkey loves cuddling with Xiao the most, but this is only in the circumstance where you aren’t present to comfort him on days.
All the boys love when you rub their ears and tails so so much.
Venti loves your tits, he’ll fondle them while you’re making dinner, while you’re cleaning: Hell he will even dry hump you in the middle of the room if you’re cleaning the floors, Cyno will quickly correct his behavior before he can go even further because you have a hard time telling the poor puppy no.
Kazuha drools in his sleep when you’re all gathered on the bed together.
Scaramouche loves sucking on your tits, while he’s half droop/ half awake. (So does Xiao but he’d never admit that outloud)
Kazuha loves kissing so much, he’ll pout when you’re just too busy to give him a quick peck.
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there's something so relatably tragic about kaiju. imagine you're big, so big that you become a danger to people just by existing. it's not your fault you're this big, and maybe even it's humans' fault you're this big. maybe you're even in pain.
you have special abilities that no one else has, but they only ever seem to destroy things and hurt people. and maybe you want to hurt people. maybe people hurt you, and you're lashing out against them. but then again, maybe you don't want to hurt them. maybe you just want to live. maybe you even want to be the hero. but even when you get your chance to be the hero, the people you save still try to hurt you.
no matter what you do, you're still big. too big for people. and you scare people. you scare people, so they hurt you. but it's not your fault you're so big. and you can't seem to escape them, the people. they're everywhere, and in more places every day. all the humans that are so very small but hurt you all the same. usually not enough to kill you or even seriously injure you, but enough that you feel it. and they won't stop at anything until you're dead.
and you're the only one quite like you. maybe the first of your kind, maybe the last. and it's amazing, but so very lonely. you might find others as big as you, but they never seem to be the same as you. and usually you just fight them, because you're both too big and this world is too small. you might make some friends, but even still, they'll never fully understand what it's like to be you. but then again, maybe it's enough that they understand what it's like to be too big.
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OOPS, IV’E FALLEN IN LOVE | enha ft. hybe game caterers
enhypen falling in love with you during hybe game caterers
pairing ot7 x idol!reader genre ᩍ fluff, love at first sight warnings ꕁ none ➜ masterlist enha permanent taglist here! a/n: requests are open :)
heeseung ☆ ⊹ ๑
you stepped up, handing heeseung the microphone. you had expressed how you admired him as a vocalist, and that was enough for him to join you in the duet. the goal was for you to get a perfect score in the karaoke machine, and he was determined to make it happen. he was so focused on his part, until he heard your voice. it was like a siren, pulling him in until he couldn’t remember where he was standing. after you finished your line, he just started at you. the mc said something about heeseung forgetting his line, but he was too focused on you to hear. he just wanted to hear your voice again.
jay ☆ ⊹ ๑
jay was totally messing up. he had a song blasting in his ears, and was desperately trying to concentrate on your lips. you were saying something, but he couldn’t decipher it. then it happened; you smiled at him. let’s just say he forgot about the game right then and there. you were laughing because no matter how much you slowed down you speech, he still could not guess the word. but now your laughing had him flustered, the tips of his ears turning red. he didn’t care how long the game would take because of his confusion- he just wanted to see you smile at him again.
jake ☆ ⊹ ๑
jake had never met anyone as competitive as him. you were on the field for the soccer portion of the day. you ran up on the field, cheering your team on. then you were called as team captain to walk up to enhypen captain, jake. now face to face, you were asked about your strategy for the game. you replied that there was no strategy because you were just that good. that made jake laugh, and he gave a cocky reply back. throughout the game, there was some banter between you two, until finally your team came out victorious. you stuck your tongue out at jake, and he laughed. he did not stop talking about you to the boys when they returned to their table.
sunghoon ☆ ⊹ ๑
we all know the moment in the last game caterers, where sunghoon forgot eunchae’s name and had to look at her name tag. so this year, they decided to make a game specifically for him: name that idol. there were 5 idols in line, with you being at the end. your name tags were off, the goal being for sunghoon to go down the line and name each one of you. of course he went down the line, giving them different names or just simply giving up on even giving them names. then he got to you, and to everyone surprise- he knew your name. truth is he had been watching you throughout the day, and had learned your name easily. you were definitely special in his eyes.
sunoo ☆ ⊹ ๑
sunoo was tired, and incredibly hungry. as he ran the last lap, he felt a breeze pass by- followed by high pitch cheering. you had won, which meant you would be getting all the food for your team, including the mint chocolate ice cream. he quietly made his way back to the members, sitting down in his chair. his stomach growled, as he put his head down on the table. suddenly he felt a tap on his shoulder, and he sprung up in surprise. there you were, with a plate of food and a sweet smile. and there he was, heart full, eating his food while staring at you from across the field.
jungwon ☆ ⊹ ๑
they wanted to do a martial arts segment in this years game caterers. of course jungwon was a part of the event, but little did he know he would go up another martial artist turned idol; you. at first he was a little hesitant, talking to the host about how he didn’t want to hurt you. well, one thing to to another, and here he was. flipped onto the ground, you on top of him with the biggest smirk playing on your face. he was shocked to say the least, but seeing you beat him sparked his interest in you. by the end of the day, he was head over heels. he liked that you were strong, and he was looking forward to seeing you around.
ni-ki ☆ ⊹ ๑
it was the last round of random play dance. only two idols remained, both being the main dancers in their groups. you and ni-ki stepped up, your bodies moving to the familiar beat. suddenly, ni-ki froze up, forgetting the next move. he glanced over to you, hoping you hadn’t made the same mistake. instead he found you dancing your heart out, as if the song belonged to your group. anyone could see the hearts in his eyes. he hadn’t paid much attention to you or anyone during the day, but now he couldn’t look away from you. he had never seen anyone move so elegantly, and look so beautiful.
🝮 taglist open!
@avocarua @kpoprhia @haechansbbg @yeehawnana @lilly-bubblelops @aishigrey @gweoriz @soul-is-a-strange-kid @dior-girlie @gigification
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Your kiss is burning to my skin — S. Rogers and B. Barnes.
summary: steve and bucky break up with you to focus on their relationship. at first, you took the breakup hard. then you took it worse.
pairings: steve x reader x bucky, stucky x reader.
warnings: angst, language, mentions of violence, poly.
chapter one
“it has nothing to do with you, doll.” bucky reiterates, tone mellowing into a small hesitant whisper as he sees you flinch at the endearment. “i mean you were wonderful and so lovely; always understanding us, being the pillar for support and providing us, always with positive reinforcements.” steve squeezes his hand as his form of support, as if willing bucky to take strenght from him to continue his words as he stutters.
the tender moment was not missed by your gaze that were intent on the supersoldiers who sat at the sofa infront of you. the parallels already evident; steve and bucky, leaning to eachother for comfort, sitting in one sofa. the only distance in the room were with you and them; sat in the lone one seater, listening with bated breath to their reasons on why they were breaking your heart.
you could guess several other scenarios happening when you returned from the three week mission requiring radio silence; a breakup was not one of them.
you were happy. the last time you saw either of them, you three went on a romantic date followed by a passionate night spent in eachother's loving arms. the next day was a tearful exchange of goodbye's and unwillingness to part; bucky had almost begged to be included, knowing what the mission entailed. steve inteded to be more diplomatic and barter with tony who refused to budge on his stance.
so with a heavy heart, you departed to cold and frigid terrorist base along with natasha and sam, throwing yourself into your duties in order to come home soonest. even with the support and extensive planning aswell as research, it still took a considerable amount of time.
but not enough for a drastic change of heart— or so you thought.
the steely and determined gaze to steve, the way bucky could look at you in the eyes despite shifting in his seat; they were fucking serious. and intent on expressing their disatisfaction with your current arrangement. one that was implicitly expressed as you trek to your floor, and sat you down after an almost hostile welcome.
“this hurts us more than you.” bucky exhales, looking at steve.
“i doubt it.” the first words you spoke amid all these crazy tirade sounded weak, from disuse and the emotions welling up in your throat. “but please, by all means, don't let me interrupt. why now?”
“we have been talking and spending time with eachother.. unconsciously, we thought about... how we missed it when it was just us.”
you flinch. again. in the field you were almost fearless, and not even a flying knife can make you swerve— you'd catch the weapon whizing to the air with precise movements. turns out, words indeed cut deeper.
but all the more of the implication that it had been them first; and the way it sounded, you were an unwelcomed participant into the special connection they shared.
“but this is not to say we don't value you.” steve intones. “we do. you have to know that. you're special in your own way, but bucky and i have something deeper than just flesh.”
you bite your tongue to refrain from lashing out. as a coping mechanism, you entertain the anger for his fucking audacity. letting the rage simmer under the blank farce you currently wear.
“we just hope, we can focus on eachother more.” steve elaborates, tensing the slightest at your emotionless response. to be frank, both men were ready for a fight, for you to scream and be hysterical. but you were surprisingly calm and collected. which made both uneasy.
“we just want to fall inlove again, without worrying about, others.” he refers you as others now. “could be permanent, could be a thought in passing.” bucky says. “the only thing we're certain about is a break.” he evasively looks away.
“i guess what bucky and i are trying to say is that, we want more from eachother, and there are certain deeper connections that we can't sustain in a three-way relationship.” steve informs you.
“i respect that.” you run your clammy hands on your tactical gear, they couldn't wait until you were dressed and atleast fed before shoving flowery words on your throat. “but if you're breaking up with me, say it bluntly; tell me honestly, tell it in words i understand- you were a good lay but it's actually eachother we love.” you enunciate the word slowly, “and don't delude me with kind words, when i know you're going to dangle the very statements you spewed over my head, most likely in days when you're fucked up or too lonely for eachother. i will not be tripped into your bed ever again.”
you despised the words as soon as they left your mouth; the statements only providing to fuel your deepest insecurity. and it was unfair to both of them, you knew it was.
steve and bucky looked visibly wretched by your words, yet you ignore it, telling yourself to get used to not caring about either of them.
“doll”
“darling”
“don't fucking call me that.” you hiss, both men still in their seat. “we're done.” gathering whatever was left of your dignity, you trudge to the doors and out of their lives.
the door closed behind you, your own apartment looking stale as opposed to the home you have built with steve and bucky; you barely stayed here anyways, but kept it for storage reasons. it still had stark's touch, feeling more like a hotel penthouse, appearing cold and detatched.
you slide down against the door weakly, losing the false bravado infront of your ex lovers. as if a child, you hug your knees to your chest, sobbing into it unbashedly.
three years all down the drain. and they talked about it as if it were a skin deep connection, downplaying every single moment; in tenderness, in affection, in tears and the joy.
you didn't lie down with them in their bed as an extension, as a woman that can be tossed in passing.
you didn't hold them gently in your arms, and provided the warmth the world has chosen to keep from them just to be a stranger.
you didn't whisper words of comfort in their ears, in the middle of the night when the nightmares became too much to handle, just to be someone shallow and unimportant in their lives.
most importantly, you didn't love them to be hurt like this.
the pain cuts deep in your heart, like a throbbing wound, one you feel physically; one that leaves you gasping for breath, a hand held above your heart, feeling as if you could die. your chest tight, your throat welling up, you struggle to remain above ground, eyes darting around the room to keep in the moment- fuck, you were having a panic attack.
you despised when that happens. hated the sheer fact that you would allow yourself to be vulnerable when there were things that needed to be done; people that need saving, reports to be made, meetings to attend. you led a remotely chaotic life and the only thing that truly anchored you in here, to the now, turned their backs to you.
they no longer want you.
you swallowed heavily, arms instinctively hugging yourself, eyes squinting in an an attempt at concentration; color, you looked at your surroundings, dizzily naming the grey of your couch, the ivory white lamp, the silver and gold of the chandelier. your forehead was beaded with perspiration, breath coming out in shorts despite your attempts at distracting yourself.
“agent y/n, your blood pressure is fluctuating; your heart rate is abnormal which can cause the brain and other ogans to become oxygen deprived. i concluded a physical scan and deduced your emotional distress," FRIDAY “i'm at liberty to ask if i should call captain rogers and sergeant barnes, as they are—”
“no!” you managed to shout between strangled breaths, patting your chest methodolically hoping whatever it was, seemingly dislodged into your airways be cleared.
“agent y/n, in accordance to the tower's protoccol, i am hardwired to inform your immediate contacts of your current state of distress.” her posh voice inserts. and despite yourself, you groan.
“i'm peachy, fri.” you lean your head back to the door, closing your eyes and focusing on your breathing. slowly, you were able to calm down enough, “it's probably the best time to change those emergency contacts, aswell. while you're at it, remove the captain and sergeant's access to this floor; both physically and even in information.”
“ofcourse, agent y/n. please state your official badge number and code.” when you answer her, FRIDAY appears to repeat your command before doing what was asked.
“i also elected the sensible decision of reinstating agent romanov as your primary emergency contact. that being said, ms. romanov is on the way to your floor.” FRIDAY disappears before you can scold her, which made you truly contemplate wether she was conscious and, in all actuality sensitive to human emotions.
perhaps, she does have an inkling of human relationships and intense emotions, but that was no longer your concern; considering you have a black widow shaped problem coming your way. and natasha romanov was nothing, if not immensely stubborn and perpetually perceptive. you were several times screwed over.
however, as she appeared in your doorway, the waterworks resumed ten times over, and you were sobbing pathetically in the red head's arms, lamenting your broken heart.
you couldn't remember for how long you've stayed immobile in your room, but it had been several days; perhaps a week or two that you cried your heart out, barely consuming meals unless for sustenance. that in itself seemed like a chore for your aching muscle, your tired and weary bones protesting with every single movements.
this morning though... this morning, it was sunny and bright. you'd opened the curtains with much effort, peering into the bustling city; the skyline providing you with displaced warmth. a few years ago, you'd only ever dreamt about being in new york; and you've lived it. becoming an avenger was also a dream you've worked hard in achieving, and here you are, fighting alongside the heroic and brave on normal tuesdays.
should you allow yourself to wither away in a dark room, heart terribly battered and bruised when the world was set for conquering? well, perhaps it would be insensitive to use the c word; cringing to yourself upon the remembrance of several otherplanetary creatures wreaking havoc on your home planet, like it were a free for all.
you enjoyed the warmth of the sun on your skin for a few moments, allowing yourself to finally, breathe. you bask in the first time upon weeks that you thought positively for a change; so wreaked from questioning every single thing wrong about you.
for the first time in many days, you took the longest shower in history, setting the temperature just a touch scalding. you cleaned your room, changed the sheets, and donned yourself in a decent jeans and a t-shirt combo. grabbing your purse, and stuffing your phone, wallet and keys along with you, you departed from your room.
on the way to the garage, you texted both wanda and natasha; who have been at your side with the outmost vigor, crying and cursing both the supersoldiers as you wept from your broken heart.
you: mall and galiani's at the grove? :)
wands: yes!! meet you there <3
natty: otw in my sensible shoes.
you smiled softly, thankful for your friends. it may have spread like wildfire among your colleagues in the tower, and the magic six may have taken sides and pointed fingers; but amongst all the drama, you were glad that you had people to count on.
it may take a while for you to feel like yourself again... but you were willing to make it work.
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Eddie Munson wasn’t the most romantic guy, but he tried his hardest.
His feelings for you were overwhelming in the best way possible. He was loud and eccentric and a little too much for most people, but then again, you weren’t like most people. Wayne had always joked that it was a shock Eddie managed to snag someone like you. You always liked to joke back that Eddie was scaring everyone else off until you came along.
But truth be told, he agreed with Wayne.
He wasn’t sure how he managed to get someone like you to love him, but you did. You loved him with your whole heart. You took one look at him and saw the real Eddie. You didn’t see some third year senior, or some freak obsessed with a fantasy game. You didn’t see a weird metalhead, or some kid with no future.
You saw Eddie. You saw a glimpse of him and you wanted to see more. You wanted to see more so you could love more, and it made his chest feel funny the way you decided to stick around even after seeing the person behind the mask.
And sometimes, Eddie envied how easily the relationship seemed to come to you. You would always surprise him, sometimes with dinner from his favourite or a bouquet of flowers or a tape you knew he had been wanting. You always knew when he wanted to be held or the words he needed to hear to cheer him up a little. You always knew how to make him feel special, like it was a basic instinct for you.
Meanwhile, Eddie was left second guessing himself because the last thing he wanted was to scare you away. He loved you. He loved you so much, it hurt. He loved you so much and he just wanted to show that. Hence, the picnic date.
He had gone all out, having spoken to Robin and Steve countless times over the last week to set up the perfect date setting. He cleaned out the back of his van to make it the perfect fortress of blankets and pillows. He had packed your favourite foods and even splashed some money on the slightly more expensive beer that was easier to get down.
It was the perfect set up for a romantic date, but the funny thing about Eddie Munson was that he wasn’t really a romantic kinda guy. And that was something you adored about him.
You didn’t want cheesy dates and corny lines that made you borderline feel like you wanted to empty your stomach. You didn’t want over-the-top date nights or meticulously planned outings. You didn’t want expensive beers and fancy chocolate-covered strawberries that cost three times the amount they should.
You wanted Eddie.
You wanted your Eddie.
You wanted your Eddie who made you feel good in a million different ways that no other man could ever compare to.
“Eddie,” you let out a soft, high-pitched squeal as your head fell back against the thick blanket beneath you. “Shit, I—”
“This,” he groaned, low and rough and gravelly. It made your stomach dip. His hands gripped the meat of your thighs, keeping them spread open as he leaned down to lick a thick strip along your cunt. “This is better than any fucking dessert.”
“Eddie,” you whined, your hands gripping the fabric of your pretty sundress in tight fists as he began shamelessly licking the mess you had made all over your thighs.
And you really shouldn’t have been surprised.
Eddie was a simple man when it came to you. Anything you did, the boy obsessed over because you did it and he was obsessed with you. So, his brain practically short-circuited when you came running out your house, dressed in a pretty floral dress that brushed against your thighs and had two thin straps holding it up. He about lost the ability to speak when you leaned over to kiss his cheek in a greeting, giving him the perfect view of your tits. But his downfall was when you climbed into the back of his van, giving him the perfect glimpse of the white cotton panties you were wearing that made it difficult to care about eating anything but you.
He lasted all of twenty minutes before he broke, watching a little dribble of strawberry juice drip down your chin that had him leaning over, licking up the mess before crawling over your body completely. You had breathed out his name, breathless and a little dazed when you saw the heated look in his eyes, the look that told you he wanted to devour you and that was exactly what you let him do.
But now you were two orgasms in, your body was wracked with pleasure and the boy didn’t look like he had any plans of stopping soon.
“‘s too much,” you cried out as he pushed your thighs up, almost bending you in half with your knees pushing against your chest so you were completely spread out and exposed for him. “Please, I can’t—”
“One more,” he groaned against your cunt, his nose nudging your swollen clit because he liked the way your body jerked in response. “Need you to come on my fingers, honey. Then I’ll stop, okay? Just one more, that’s all I want.”
“Mhmm,” you whimpered, all high-pitched and whiny but your obedience made him grin.
And he did intend to only make you come one more time for him. He intended to give you a break. He did. He really, really did.
But then he was knuckle deep inside you, the wet and debauched sounds of your soaking pussy echoing through the back of his van as you squirmed and moaned and screamed out his name until your throat was raw. Tears were streaming down your cheeks, your thighs were shaking in his hold and you were babbling incoherently, so lost in the pleasure that you didn’t have time to warn him that something felt different, that there was a twist deep in your guts that didn’t feel familiar.
Eddie could’ve came in his pants from the sight alone.
It almost felt never-ending. His fingers were pumping in and out of you, already soaked to the wrist with your arousal before you were squirting everywhere. You were shaking beneath him, mouth parted with silent screams as you soaked everything around you. As you shook and moaned and came harder than you ever had in your life. As you did something he only thought was possible in fucking pornos.
Your cheeks burned with embarrassment when your brain seemed to catch up with your body, blinking a few times as the realisation hit you like a freight truck. Your eyes instantly teared up, your hands desperately trying to pull the soaking material of your sundress over your body to cover yourself up like it would give you some dignity.
You opened your mouth. “Eddie, I’m so—”
“Did I say you could cover up?”
You blinked, your brows furrowing in confusion. “What?”
He slapped your hands away, not allowing you to pull your skirt over your pussy. “I said,” he repeated, his voice lower this time as his darkened gaze caught yours. “Did I say you could cover up?”
You pressed your lips together, shaking your head. “No, sir.”
“Good girl,” he praised, and the hot tears of embarrassment were quickly replaced with the warmth of his praises. “Now, lay back down and keep your legs open.”
“Eddie—” you started again, your stomach dipping when you noticed the mess you made. Not only were you soaked, but so was he. His clothes now stained darker, along with the blanket beneath you but he didn’t seem to care.
“Shhh,” he hummed as his hands rubbed up and down your thighs, completely uncaring of your arousal leaking and dripping down your thighs. “Only wanna hear your pretty moans, honey. Wanna hear how good it feels.”
“It?” You questioned breathlessly.
His grin was vindictive, almost sinister. “Wanna see you do it again f’me, baby.”
Your eyes widened. “But—”
“Nuh uh, what did I say?” He chastised softly, gripping your thighs until a soft whimper left your lips. “Now, either you let me hear those needy noises or I stuff something in that pretty mouth of yours to keep you quiet. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good girl. Now, open those legs and let me see my pretty girl.”
.
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