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eilidh-eternal · 5 months

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Good morning 🥰 Wolf-shifter!Price is a bad, bad man 🤭 | Part 1 | Masterlist |

18+ MDNI | This is a DARK FIC | cw: blood, drowning, predator and prey dynamics

Little fawn… You shouldn’t be out on that ice.

John lingers at the edge of the forest, halts his routine surveillance at the fringes of his territory, and watches as you fall, can hear the ice shudder and give way, can smell the panic and fear as you sink beneath the frozen surface.

Well. A frozen meal is better than no meal at all.

He peels back layers of winter garb as he approaches the waters edge, shucking them into the snow before he makes the plunge himself.

You must have tried to fight it, the dead weight of your heavy clothing. Still so close to the surface when he reaches you. With kicking feet he takes you under the arms and hauls you back up, pushes you up onto the ice before hauling himself out behind you, and carries you off the treacherous lake. Sharp metal prods at his thigh with each step that jostles your skate-clad feet, and a growl of contempt rumbles in his chest when he feels the blade dig into his skin, thin rivulets of warm blood mixing with the water that drips from his body. They’re the first thing he removes from you, followed by the useless coat full of lake water and the monstrosity of a sweater beneath it.

Your left side blooms a tantalizing red, droplets staining the snow beneath you like Rorschach ink bleeds onto paper, and the sweet, metallic scent floods his senses. Calls to baser instincts. But then you begin to cough and hack, water gurgling between your darkened lips, and he can hear the faint thump of the cordiform muscle in your chest beating back to life. Pulsing with more of that sweet essence.

Not so frozen after all. Still time for a little fun.

He hopes you wake soon, that he won’t have to slink along in the shadows for hours before your scent paints the forest and leads him to you. Hopes that when you wake the panic and fear will smell just as decadent mingled with the adrenaline. Oh, how he’d like to linger here and watch that panic bloom on your pretty little face. Watch the confusion turn to shock, watch the whites of your eyes swallow the irises as you realize who—what—looms over you.

But he can’t. You won’t last out in this cold in your sopping clothes, and he won’t last in this form without his. So he leaves you with his coat draped over your body, the rest of his clothes nearby in the snow, and prowls into the sanctuary of pine and aspens that shield his fur from the wind blasted clearing you lie in.

He prowls, and he waits.

It doesn’t take long. And you’re so, so smart, little fawn. So smart to make use of the clothing he’s left for you. So very clever to follow his footprints in the snow. To wrap your arms around your middle and keep your hands balled inside the oversized sleeves of his coat.

And your scent… Oh, he had not been expecting that. The way your sweetness has tangled itself with his own scent. The way the lingering musk from his clothes wraps around your delicate, honeyed sillage. Warm and syrupy, like the blood that splatters in the snow and paints a path through the trees.

So focused are you on pushing forward, on moving and staying warm, that you do not notice the shadow at your back when you trudge into their refuge, sighing long and heavy at the absence of the punishing wind nipping at your exposed skin. You huff and puff as you fight the deep drifts, already at a disadvantage and clumsy in shoes far too big for you, his footsteps clearing the way not making much if a difference in your exhausted, wounded state.. You can hardly walk, let alone run, and so he bides his time. Watches from a distance, from the cover of pine boughs heavy and drooping with snow, from the shadows cast by the rapidly setting sun.

The snow may glitter and glisten, might make pretty patterns on frosted leaves and look pillowy soft where it gathers in drifts at the bases of tree trunks, but it is deceptive and cruel under the light of the moon. And the dark brings forth a host of malevolent, savage creatures. Things like him.

He’s doing you a kindness, really, watching over you as you tromp through the snow. Herding you closer and closer to his den. And don’t you just look delicious, smell absolutely divine, when all that fear and panic comes rushing back when you reach the end of his tracks. You’re so lucky that it’s him who pulled you from that lake, who’s been tracking you through this forest, and not some other, overeager beast that lacks composure and control.

No, he’s going to savor you. Going to take his time wearing you down. Get your adrenaline pumping, nice and warm for him when he finally brings you to his den. Then, and only then, will he taste you. Slake the thirst gnawing away inside of him, hollowing out his insides with the need to touch and taste and devour the sweet scent he’s been following for hours.

The snarl that rips from his throat is a primal thing, more animal than man, as he tastes your desperation, the spike of adrenaline when you finally realize you’ve been followed. His growl echoes in the silence that follows, beckons you to turn around, to let him see the fear as it unfolds across your features.

Let me see you, little one. Look at my teeth and claws and show me those pretty doe-eyes.

And god are you a fucking sight when you do, eyes wide with terror and shaking like a newborn on trembling legs. He knows you don’t shiver because of the cold, knows the decadent scent of dread and horror when it hits him, knows the instant you get that sinking feeling in your stomach when your eyes meet his and instead of doing what you should do, make yourself seem bigger, louder, you deflate. You curl in on yourself and don’t make a sound, hardly even breathe, until he pads forward, and you mirror his movement.

He steps forward, you step back. He steps to the left and you’re inching to the right. So easy for him, going exactly where he wants you to, doesn’t even have to snarl to get you to move in the right direction.

What a precious little thing you are, and you have no idea what’s in store for you.

He wouldn’t say it’s a game of cat and mouse, you haven’t even taken your eyes off of him, refuse to turn your back to him. So he keeps edging closer, hedging your little bubble of ‘safety’ you’ve managed to maintain. But then you go the wrong way, stumble over a fallen tree buried beneath the snow and it sets you off course, so he has no choice but to correct you.

Another low growl vibrates through him and it amuses him when your steps falter, when you freeze in place and he circles to come at you from the other direction.

This way, little one.

He moves further into your bubble and you start moving again, in the right direction this time. And though he can still taste the fear rolling off of you, there’s something else buried beneath it, tangy and acidic on his tongue. You don’t exactly back away from him anymore, either, just shuffle along with frequent glances over your shoulder to make sure he hasn’t gotten too close. Getting too comfortable. He’ll have to teach you how poor that decision is, to turn your back on him.

But not today. Today, you will go to his den, and he’ll be teaching you a different sort of lesson once he gets that nasty gouge on your side sorted. It’s beginning to bleed through his coat, deep red blooming against dull khaki, and you’re stumbling over everything and nothing. So he hedges closer, practically nipping at your heels to spur you on, get you moving just a bit quicker, until finally the scent of smoke and pine sap wafts through the air, and you make a relieved sound when the cabin comes into view.

You don’t need his guidance anymore. You know you need the warmth of that fire, the shelter the cabin offers. And you’re desperate enough not to care who it belongs to. Desperate enough that when no one answers your calls and you find the door unlocked, you go right in, go straight to the hearth and huddle as close as you can to the flames. You really shouldn’t, but you lay down, curl into the insulation of the coat and let your eyes droop closed, despite the risk of hypothermia that falling asleep poses. But you must be tired. You’d drowned. Nearly gutted yourself falling through the ice. Waded through wind and snow with a wolf at your back to get here.

Of course you’re tired. Tired enough that you don’t hear John come inside, don’t stir as he moves about and tends to himself and the fire. Only make a soft whining sound when he finally lifts you from the floor to settle you on the couch and peel away the blood-crusted layers that cling to your skin. He makes quick work of the wound, cleaning the dried blood from your skin and soaking up the fresh outpouring with gauze as he pushes the needle and thread through your skin, too exhausted to register the additional pain.

Fur lined blankets settle over you, cocooning you in warmth and shielding you from the lingering cold in the air. John watches you from his place on the adjacent armchair, feet kicked up on the old coffee table, and he hums knowingly when you burrow deeper into the blankets' warm refuge.

Rest now, little fawn. You’ll need all your strength when you wake.

©️Eilidh-Eternal.2024 ~ The intellectual property of Eilidh-Eternal is not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or use with AI technologies.

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lady-griffin · 1 year

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Small Parallel I love with Knives Out and Glass Onion

Neither Harlan Thrombey nor Andi Brand are good people. They’re not. They’re also not evil people to be clear, but again, they’re not really good people.

By the kind of people his family and especially his children are, we get a sense of who Harlan is or largely was in his life, especially with the comment that there is so much of him in Ransom.

Andi was also clearly more than okay with both Birdie and Duke as not just acquaintances but close friends; as well as what other nonsense came out of Miles before “Klear,” and she was his business partner and friend.

She wasn’t some moral beacon of wholesomeness.

Her standard of good was –

Let’s not put this very dangerous and unstable thing that hasn’t even come close to being properly tested out into the world, especially not under our company’s name; because we are not some daring startup company anymore, we’re an established conglomerate and this could easily sink us.

That’s not exactly a high bar of morality.

And that’s okay.

Really it is.

I like how neither movie truly idolizes Harlan or Andi to the point they are made out to be truly good people, BUT yet, we still see why Marta and Helen clearly loved and cared about these two and why their deaths matter.

Marta and Helen are our truly good souls for these movies.

The two main groups of people - The Thrombeys and The Disruptors - are all various shades of the same kind of bad person for each movie.

The Thrombeys are all willing to live off Harlan’s hard work and they all believe they are entitled to his fortune because it’s their family right. It’s theirs. And once you peel back the layers of liberal or conservative, they’re all the same, because they’re all a bit more than willing to defend what they think is theirs, with knives out and teeth bared.

The Disruptors are somehow even more reliant on Miles than the Thrombeys were on Harlan (which is saying something); and they will cling onto him until they see his boat is doomed to sink. They literally know he killed two people; two of their so-called “friends” and they’re not willing to do anything. At least, not until Miles is truly fucked.

They all care more about their own survival and ambitions than doing the right thing. And once more, when you peel back the layers of liberal or conservative, we once again see they’re all the same, they’re all more than willing to lie for a lie and stab a “friend” in the back.

But Harlan and Andi are our mixed bags of morality.

This is clear enough with the two types of people they are associated with.

The Thrombey Family and Marta.

The Disruptors and Helen.

They’re kind of like an optical illusion, it really depends on how you look at them and what you see when it comes to their own morality.

However, they do have two traits that I think redeem them for the audience, or at the very least make them more admirable to us.

They are genuinely self-made people.

Harlan was a brilliant murder mystery writer. He was. And he did build this publishing/franchise empire of his.

Andi was a brilliant mind who dabbled in many different things, but her real talent (as I saw it) was being able to spot a certain something-something in people. She saw the doers in the world, even when they weren’t quite there yet, she saw their potential to be the kind of person who others would notice and remember.

They were also both willing to stand by their values and once they made a decision, they would not be bullied into changing it.

Harlan decided to cut off his family and was sticking by that.

Andi decided to walk away from Miles and was sticking by that.

And I don’t know, I just like that little bit of extra moral complexity these two characters bring to these movies.

Oh, and Benoit Blanc is a good person, but he definitely isn’t governed by what the law or society says is good. He’s an eccentric who’s here for a good time, a fun and challenging mystery, and is more than willing to help out the good souls in the world when he gets the opportunity.

#Knives Out #Glass Onion #Glass Onion Spoilers #harlan thrombey #Andi Brand #Marta Cabrera #Helen Brand #Benoit Blanc #Rian Johnson

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satorusugurugurl · 2 months

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The Princess and her Knight

Pairing: Knight Geto Suguru x FAB Princess Reader

Word Count: 3,383

Warning: Fingering, cursing, making out? Talking of royal politics, voyeurism,

A/N: This gave me the brain worms. I love fantasy. Plus Geto as a knight in leather?! 🫠🥴 yummy!!

“What a waste! I pity anyone who gets stuck marrying her! I've never been insulted! Good luck marrying her off!” Geto smiled, tilting his head as your latest suitor stormed out of the gardens.

That makes ten suitors so far. All of which have left either furious, like this one, or very disappointed. “He’s gone, Y/N,” Suguru called out with a chuckle.

Upon his words, you poked your head out from behind the large willow tree in the garden. You grinned, stepping out of your hiding place, happily humming as you smooth out your long lavender gown before standing before your knight. Geto Suguru shook his head, offering you his arm.

“Your parents are not going to be happy.”

“Well, I'm not happy!” you stuck out your bottom lip, looking up at your guardian. “Suguru, they want to sell me off like cattle! I’m a person, not a thing! Don't my feelings count?”

“They should, but you’re of age. It comes with the territory of being a princess.” Suguru’s stoic voice had you rolling your eyes. “You should try to get to know some of them, Y/N.”

You didn't want to get to know these strange men! You just wanted to know Suguru on a more intimate level. Peel back the layers of leather, steel, and cloth. What was your dark-haired knight hiding under professionalism and attitude? He certainly wasn't a fan of these strange men coming to see you. You had seen the look each time one of them took your hand. It was a subtle twitch of the eye, nothing any other person would notice. But you, you knew him like the back of your hand. Your knight was jealous.

Suguru would never make the first move because of two things. One, he was your knight, and two, he was of common birth. You couldn't care less about that! If he would continue to observe without acting, you had to take matters into your own hands.

“Why bother? Every single one of them is disappointed with my naivety. They say there’s no point in getting to know someone if I don't know how to kiss properly.”

Suguru stopped in his tracks, dark eyes snapping in your direction. “What did you just say?” Perfect, he was taking the bait.

“I said, all these suitors are running off because they said I don't know how to kiss.” You sighed, shrugging your shoulders. “That's the problem with royal families; they simply tell you to produce an heir. They don't teach you about your body and how to seduce others. I suppose my family name will die out.” You could feel every muscle in Suguru’s body tighten with your words. “All because no one taught me how to kiss.”

“I-I see—!” This is the only thing Suguru had to say in response to your very open invitation. How much more of a hint could you drop!?

Drastic times called for drastic measures.

Suguru groaned, looking down as you hugged his arm. Your perfect breasts were brushing against him. “Suguru, do you know how to kiss?” The sparkle in your eyes and faint flush that dusted your cheeks had Suguru fighting against himself.

“I do,” seeing your excitement, he flicked your forehead, “do not even ask.”

Despite being a young adult, you whined like a child. You were hugging his arm tighter, pressing yourself harder against him. You were not backing down! Not this time! If your parents wanted to sell you off for procreation, you were going to have fun!

“Isn't it your duty to protect me? To protect the crown?”

“Yes, but kissing you is not in my job description.”

“Suguru.” When he looked down at you, he was met with teary eyes. A sight he had not anticipated seeing. “Please.” Inhaling sharply, Suguru watched as those big tears streamed down your cheeks. “It's bad enough I have to marry someone I don't love. All of my firsts are being sold off to the highest bidder. Is it that bad that I want to give my first kiss to whomever I choose?”

“Y/N, don't.”

You released his arm, pressing your hands on his chest, staring into his eyes. He was everything to you: your protector, friend, and first love. Geto Suguru is the man you would choose to be your everything—husband, king, lover.

You wanted to be everything to him as well.

“Suguru, please, I want it to be you.” You stood on your tiptoes, closing the distance between you. “Will you please teach me?” You glanced at his lips through your lashes before leaning in closer. His heavy breathing mingled with yours. An unfamiliar sensation began to flutter in your lower stomach. “Sugu—”

A millisecond before your lips touched, Suguru’s hand shot up, covering his mouth. His reaction felt like a dagger to the heart. He didn't want it. Meaning he must not want you.

You thought what the two of you had was more. That your relationship wasn't merely knight and princess, friends, that maybe deep down beneath the vows he'd taken, he felt more than his duty. All the laughs you shared, the late-night strolls, afternoon naps in the garden. It wasn't; it wasn't just a lie, unrequited love.

But how could it be more if he reacted like this?

Embarrassment washed over the desire you had felt seconds before. Leaving you feeling numb and empty. “I-I have to go,” you whispered, turning on your heels for the palace.

You didn't have a chance to move. Your wrist was grabbed as Suguru began dragging you towards the hedge maze. Suguru didn't say a word as he pulled you deeper and deeper inside. His vigilant eyes searched every corner for any sign of life. He was always watchful, but now, more than ever.

Once he had you as far away from the palace and servants, he turned to glare down at you. Bracing yourself for a lecture, you shut your eyes tight. You didn't have the courage to face him. You didn't want those hopes to be over just yet!

“Don't!” Hands flew up, pushing against his chest. “Please don't break my heart. Let me hang on to the thoughts of us just a little while longer, please! They're the only thoughts that make me happy!”

Suguru’s harsh words never came. Instead, his hands reached down, gently holding yours. “You're not that bright sometimes, are you.” His soft tone had your gaze snapping towards his face. “But then again, that's one of the things I like about you.” Suguru brought your hands to his mouth. “Oblivious and passionate.” Lips, his lips brushed against your knuckles, sending your heart slamming against your ribcage.

“B-But I-I don't understand. You covered your mouth!”

“Because you choose a spot in the wide open to come onto me.” Shaking his head, Suguru gently released your hands. “Just how would you explain this to any prying eyes?”

“Huh, this? What do you mean thi—”

Suguru’s hands cupped your face, pulling you into a deep and passionate kiss. They were soft, softer than you ever dreamed they'd be. You melted into him, kissing him back with the same gentle tempo. Feeling your lips against his, Suguru groaned, his eyebrows furrowing as one hand moved to the back of your head, deepening the kiss.

Your hands gripped his shirt, hanging onto him tight as you matched his movements as best as possible. This had to be the best first kiss anyone had ever experienced. It was passionate and sweet, like the pastries you would sneak from the kitchens. The entire world had stopped around the two of you.

You were the first to break the kiss; the both of you panted, mouths practically still against each other. “That was, wow.” Suguru chuckled as your words murmured into his mouth.

“Yeah, wow.”

“Again.” Was the only thing you said before crashing your lips against his. He stumbled back, falling onto the grass. “Mmm,” You moaned, eyes shut, eyebrows knitting in concentration.

He tasted sweet, like the strawberries you two had shared before you had to meet with the baron. Sweet and tangy, a taste you craved more with each kiss. Suguru’s hands gently gripped against your hips as he leaned back against one of the hedge walls. Feeling his hands, those strong, calloused hands on your body in a way no one had touched you before, had that faint fluttering sensation returning to your stomach.

Suguru felt the way you twitched under his touch, eyes slowly opening to watch your reactions. You were flushed, eyes shut tight, as you kissed him back. It was utterly adorable. He watched you, trying to figure out what you liked and how you were supposed to move. The gods were so good to him. Giving him a chance to not only protect you but also to touch you in ways you'd never been touched.

You pulled back, gasping for air. Suguru could see the hunger in your eyes, the desire for him. So he decided to give his darling princess a hand. Grabbing your hips, Suguru repositioned you so that you were straddling him. Following his lead, you pulled your skirts up a bit, allowing your legs to rest on either side of his body. Your bodies were so close to each other, only your undergarments and his pants separating you.

“Are you okay?” Suguru’s voice was hoarse, lips swollen from the intense kisses.

“I-I feel strange, like my body is on fire.” You knew all about sex and what came along with it. You had read plenty of books, ones your tutors would never approve of. But experiencing it firsthand, words failed in comparison to actually feeling another's hands on you. “I don't know what to do; this isn't covered in my lessons.”

Tensions grew between you, thick and heavy, as Suguru hummed. Half of his dark hair cascaded down his back, while the rest was tied in a bun, allowing you to see his flushed ears. It seemed as though you weren’t the only one feeling the growing heat simmering between you. You knew he wanted this as bad as you did. But to what extent was he willing to go?

Clearing his throat, Suguru gently squeezed your hips. “That's the problem with royals. They always tell you to be obedient and take care of your partner's needs.” rough handles slid down to your thighs. “They never explain your body to you. Or how to please your partner.” Dark eyes seared through you. “Luckily for you, I know how to take care of you, how to make you feel good.” Words trailed off as his blush darkened. “Could I try?” Your face turned red.

“Y-Yes, please.”

Suguru slid his hands up, gently grabbing and massaging your breasts in his hands. “Gods, you feel so good.”

“Oh my god.” You gasped out, arching, pressing yourself closer into his palms. “Your hand is so big.”

“Oh Princess,” Suguru purred, his head leaning in, trailing kisses down your neck, “You sound so fucking pretty.” Fingers began rubbing circles over your hardening nipples.

That hot foreign feeling in the pit of your stomach spread, settling between your legs. “Suguru~ oh Suguru, it feels so good.” Fingers gently ran through his hair, tangling in the dark strands of silky hair.

Encouraged by your sounds, Suguru kissed down your neck, over your collarbone, before he gently tugged the front of your dress down. You'd opted out of a corset today, thank the gods, making it easier for Suguru to pull the brassiere down. Your perfect breasts bounced. With a glance around, making sure the coast was clear, Suguru hummed before taking your nipple in his mouth.

“Oh, gods! You clasped a hand over your mouth, I

In an attempt to silence yourself. “Nngh S-Sugu, that feels weird but good at the same time.”

“Do you like how it feels?” Suguru’s mouth turned to your other breast, giving it the same loving treatment. Tongue swirling around the sensitive bud, making you whimper in turn.

You gripped his shoulders, pressing your chest further into his face. “I-I do! I, oh gods, I had no idea I was capable of feeling like this.” It felt like every nerve in your body was on fire. Every touch, every lap of his tongue, had you craving more. You wanted more, but not for yourself. The desperation of making Suguru feel as good as you did had you feeling confident. “Can I make you feel good too?” Suguru’s eyes widened before unlatching himself from your breasts.

“Y/N, you have no idea what this is doing to me.” When you could finally look into his eyes, you noticed how heavily he was breathing. He looked so out of it like he had gone off the deep end. “I need more of this; don't worry about me.” behind the lust and the need, you could also see the love and adoration. He shifted under you, pressing his hardening bulge against your core before massaging your breasts once more.

Feeling it had you tilting your head back, eyes widening. “Oh fuck~!” Your curse had Suguru groaning, fighting the urge to rock up against you. “S-Suguru~ feels so good, but I uhm—” You felt wet, sticky, and warm between your legs. The foreign feeling had your cheeks burning.

Upon hearing the hesitation in your tone, Suguru pulled away instantly. “Feel what? Are you okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?” His genuine concern had you falling for him even harder.

“No! Not in the slightest! I, well, I feel wet between my legs?” Your answer was formed more like a question. You were unsure how an average couple would mention this. Instead of continuing to speak, you leaned back slightly, lifting your skirts. “Do we, do we need to stop?”

Suguru hissed through his teeth. The sight of your lacey underwear had his pants growing tighter. But it was the dampness forming on them, your arousal glinting in the rays of sunlight, that had him throbbing. His sweet, innocent princess had left a wet spot on his pants. Fuck, he didn't think he needed anyone as bad as he needed you. You gifted, feeling hot under his gaze as he licked his lips, eyes glued to your dripping sex.

“N-No, gods no, that's supposed to happen when you're feeling good and aroused.” His voice was deep, cracking with need. “Do you want to stop? We can.”

“No! I don't want to stop.”

“Ok, just lean back a bit.” Following his instructions, you put both hands behind you, resting them on his knees. With shallow breaths, you watched as he slid his hand between your legs, his finger slowly pressing against your covered core. “Oh my gods,” Suguru growled, biting his lip. He curled his finger under the fabric separating the two of you before dipping his finger between your folds.

“Ah!” You squeaked out, covering your mouth. “Oh gods, oh gods, Sugu.”

“You're so wet, Y/N.” Gentle fingers moved up and down, feeling your folds before they traced around your entrance. “Who knew my princess was so,” he smirked, leaning forward, nipping at your earlobe, “sensitive?” The second that last word left his mouth, he pushed a finger inside of you.

Your entire body lurched; Suguru’s free grabbed your hip, helping steady you. Your mouth was wide open as so many sensations hit you at once. Shock, pleasure, and desire, the feeling of Suguru’s finger pumping in and out of you slowly, god, it was better than kissing.

“Feel good,” you kissed his forehead, “feels good Sugu.”

The pretty sounds from your mouth made Suguru’s throat dry. Swallowing hard, he began pumping his finger in and out of your tight cunt. Your walls hugged him so tight, trying to prevent him from moving. But Geto Suguru wasn't going to let that stop him. Not when you breathed out his name like it was a prayer to the gods. He pumped his finger faster, curling it in before he slid another finger into your heat.

“Oh fuck.” A tightening sensation formed in your lower abdomen. “Oh fuck, Suguru, Sugu~!”

Your knight closed the distance, kissing you deeply. “Shhh, Y/N, don't be so loud. What would people say if they saw you like this?” His fingers curled inside of you.

“They’d say lucky princess!” you moaned against his lips.

“Yeah?” Suguru scoffed against your swollen lips. “You're honest, I'll give you that.” He tilted his head, thumb brushing against your clit. “I think your honesty deserves a reward.” His thick fingers pushed deeper, rubbing against a spot inside of you that had you seeing sparks. Knowing the reaction you would have, Suguru kissed you to swallow the moan that ripped through your throat.

The pleasure felt so good; you wanted to be loud, to let the whole kingdom know how good your knight made you feel. Suguru was right. You had to be quiet, at least until you two could sneak off to his quarters. You would rather die than allow this to be a one-time thing. For now, you kissed him to muffle your whimpers and cries.

When Suguru felt your pussy twitching, contracting around his fingers, he smirked. How lucky was he? Not only was he your first kiss, but he would also get to be the first one to make you cum. And if he was lucky, and the gods were gracious enough, he'd be the only one to do so.

A broken “Sugu” was the only final confirmation he needed that you were going to cum. His hand sped up, fingers fucking into you as your hips rolled, chasing the strange feeling that was fluttering inside of you. You rocked and rolled up, and the coil inside of you snapped. You screamed into Suguru’s mouth as you gushed around his fingers. Your first orgasm had your toes curling, your heart racing, and you trembling in your knight's lap.

“Holy fuck.” Suguru moaned out against your lips. Watching you squirm on his lap had his cock throbbing. “Fuck Y/N.” Shuddering sighs shook your entire being as you pressed your forehead against his, Y/E/C boring into dark eyes. Licking your lips, feeling more confident than ever, your hands reached down, cupping his erection. “Nngh!”

“Suguru, let me help you.”

Just as you learned away, Suguru’s eyes began to follow your other hand, trailing over his shoulder, when a shape caught his eye. He moved, throwing you off his lap and putting you behind him as he drew out his sword. The shape stepped closer, and Suguru clenched his teeth.

“Stop, right fuckin’ there. Don't move a muscle.”

The sudden shock wore off, and you quickly readjusted yourself before scooting back against the hedge. Your heart was thundering again, this time not because of lust or excitement but because of fear. Shaking, you and Suguru watched as the shape stepped out of the darkness and into the glimmering rays of sunlight.

“Relax, I was just enjoying the show.” your eyes trailed over fine clothes of dark blue, embodied with silver threads. “I was surprised to see Princess Y/N, the so-called naive and stuck-up princess, getting finger fucked.”

“Stop!” Suguru commanded, taking a step back towards you. “Don't move any closer, and state what business you have here at the palace.”

“My family dragged me here.” The stranger didn't heed Suguru’s warning and stepped further into the light. “They keep dragging me to meet stupid princesses. They’re so insistent I find a bride and father an heir. After hearing all the rumors about your princess, I hid here before meeting. But by the gods themselves, who would have imagined I found the princess here? And she's not as naive as the rumors stated.” Another step closer towards you.

“Who are you?” You asked, standing up, peeking from behind Suguru.

The stranger chuckled, stepping entirely out into the light. Cerulean blue eyes glittered behind white eyelashes that narrowed as he smirked. “Gojo Satoru, Prince of the kingdom of Fontaine.” Both you and Suguru’s hearts dropped into your stomachs as the prince chuckled. “And I think I just found myself a bride,” his eyes focused on Suguru, “and a husband. The gods are good!”

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osachiyo · 6 months

Note

can we talk about sugar daddy fyodor too?

white lace ・ fedya ─── f!reader . sugar daddy!fedya hcs (?) approx 0.7k ᘎᘏ cw n/sfw mindbreak dark content naïve!reader manipulation use of the word daddy etc (mdni)

sugar daddy!fyodor who just wants a... distraction from everything. being a genius terrorist is hard, y'know? he's human after all, and as much as he hates to admit it− everyone has certain urges they desire to fulfill, no?

sugar daddy!fyodor who gets forced by nikolai to go to a bar, "have some fun!", the magician said− only to ditch the sickly russain man after having a few drinks, making out with a 'ditzy blonde bitch' as nikolai called her, in a secluded corner of the bar.

sugar daddy!fyodor who is annoyed, frustrated even. the place smelled like sweat and sex, people messily grinding onto each other and dancing provocatively− he hated it. but then you come by, and immediately catch his eye. you're a shy girl− but he manages to strike up a conversation with you smoothly. you're a college student, struggling to juggle two side jobs to pay for your tuition fees and study at the same time. it's pitiful, really. but as you were talking, voiced slurred from the drinks he bought you− fyodor couldn't help but notice how.. attractive you were. the way your tits bounced every time you moved, or the way he could see your cleavage from his point of view.your glossy lips parting as huffed breaths escaped you− you'd make a good toy for him, really.

sugar daddy!fyodor who decides, that he would take mercy upon you. he liked you. that's why he proposed that he'd pay for your tuition fully, even take care of your other needs− you just have to do something in return for him as well. and in the midst of your drunked haze, the proposal sounded heavenly. he made you sign a contract and everything− even getting your fingerprint on it. you thought the contract was only about him taking care of your needs and you doing something in return for him. but only if you weren't drunk− if you read the paper more clearly, if only you were so naïve− you'd see it officially labels you as "fyodor dostoyevsky's property".

sugar daddy!fyodor who only grins when you ask him what you had to do in return, combing a slender hand through your hair as he tells you not to worry about it for now.

sugar daddy!fyodor who actually keeps his word, paying off your student loans fully as well as buying you everything you desire. even though you had no idea where the money was coming from, and he'd refused to tell you multiple times− you couldn't bring yourself to really care as you practically glowed in happiness, seeing your wardrobe− the multiple designer bags, designer clothes and accessories he had gifted you. it was...addicting, much like the mysterious man himself.

sugar daddy!fyodor who finally, finally indulges himself after making you believe that you're indebted to him and you owe him your life, your career− you as a whole.

sugar daddy!fyodor who buys you the most beautiful, expensive set of lingerie− the white lace complimenting your complexion with utter perfection. "you look angelic, my dear," he'd say in a honeyed tone, caressing your sides in faux affection but you miss the way his voice holds an edge to it− the way his lavender eyes now darkened to a much, much darker tone as he relishes in the way the white lace hugs your curves perfectly− accentuating all parts of your body so nicely. it made him want to rip the clothing off of you− forcefully having his way with you and leaving you a crying, debauched mess and..but he figures that's a thought for later.

sugar daddy!fyodor who takes his time unraveling your intricate lingerie, peeling off the layers with delicate but chewed up fingers as you flush and giggle at receiving his attention. he'd kiss each and every part of your body; your face, neck, collarbones, chest, god those perky tits of yours, your stomach, thighs, calves then slowly make his way between your legs, head resting against the meat of your thigh as you twitch and flutter your eyes in need. he'd purposely miss the spot where you needed him the most, only smiling at the way you don't even ask him to, just patiently waiting until he wants to fuck that pretty cunt of yours.

sugar daddy!fyodor who feels...powerful at having you under his mercy like this− all sprawled out and cunt leaking, ruining the pretty lace but you don't dare tell him to touch you, patiently waiting for him even if it makes tiny tears prickle at the corners of your eyes. this is why he chose you− you know your place and don't dare go out of your lane. so he figures he might as well give into you now.

sugar daddy!fyodor who has you fully nude underneath him, your chest heaving as he traces a finger up and down your slit, your legs struggling to stay open from his feather light but teasing touches. his finger circling your sweet little clit in a clockwise motion before switching to the other way− watching as your brows furrow and lips part to let out noises that one would only describe as sinful. but he loved it− oh so loved it how you whimpered his name with utter neediness, hips bucking up into his hand only to get pushed back down, the older man's smooth but rich voice telling you to be patient, won't you be a good girl for daddy?

sugar daddy!fyodor who'd only prepare you half-heartedly. he, too, was growing impatient while torturing you with the slight touches that he couldn't help but press a soft kiss to your clit before pulling his fingers out and quickly replacing them with his cock.

sugar daddy!fyodor who'd watch the way your pussy sucked him in, bottoming out inside of you with a wet 'pop!' he'd pick you up in his lap and lean against the headboard, breath hitched as you clenched and unclenched around him.

sugar daddy!fyodor who'd only grin smugly when you look at him through your pretty lashes in confusion. he'd only sigh and mock you for being such a dumb little girl, "silly girl. I buy you all these luxuries and I have to put in work even in the bedroom? tsk, tsk."

sugar daddy!fyodor who watches you sputter and apologize, lips jutted out to a cute little pout as you try and lift your hips, only to slam back down on his throbbing cock. your eyes would be on him the entire time− god, was he beautiful. baby hairs sticking to sweaty his forehead as he sighed out uneven breaths, a flush covering his face to the base of his neck, brows furrowed as thin lips part to let out soft moans while he tips his head back− revealing his collarbones and neck for you to press sweet kisses on, your smudged lipstick leaving stains on his milky skin.

sugar daddy!fyodor who'd watch as you hop on his dick, breaths bouncing with each move and just begging him to twist and pull your perked nipples. and he did− shaky fingers gently caressing the soft fat of your tits, ever so softly circling around your buds before landing three swift smacks on each of them− making you cry out and halt your movements, only to have him thrust up into you from below, calling you a "pathetic slut who can't even do such a simple request".

sugar daddy!fyodor who tells you to rub that little clit of yours yourself. you want him to do it? no, why should he? you're lucky he even gave you the permission to cum in the first place− don't forget you're his property, nothing more, nothing less.

sugar daddy!fyodor who agrees to stay and cuddle for the night after you're finished, even reluctantly letting you apply your ridiculously expensive skincare products on him− that he spent a hefty amount of cash on.

sugar daddy!fyodor who leaves early in the morning− but not before leaving a fat stack of money on the bedside table; a silent order for you to buy some white lacey lingerie, and of course− treat yourself with the rest.

©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated ♡

a/n : THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A 400 WORD DRABBLE BUT THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN I WRITE FOR FYODOR. anyway...I hoped y'all enjoyed <3

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pinguwrites · 8 months

Text

You Set My Soul Alight | Jonathan Crane

Pairing -> sub!jonathan crane x villain!reader

Summary -> You and Jonathan Crane have always been at odds. He's an arrogant asshole and you're a sarcastic shit, and no matter what you always find a way to bump heads. The worst part about it is that deep down you find him brilliant and attractive and utterly intoxicating. One day, Crane comes to you with a plea to enticing to resist, and you find this the perfect opportunity to put him in his place.

Warnings -> smut (minors dni), enemies with feelings, sub!Jon acting like a brat, swearing, dom!reader, degradation kink, ma'am kink, unprotected sex, edging, hair pulling, ball slapping, slapping in general, if you squint real hard Jonathan's lowkey a little sexist, bruce wayne is a playboy, reader's kinda a simp

Word count: 5k

Disclaimer: The Dark Knight trilogy/DC characters, plots, quotes, etc. do not belong to me and belong to the rightful owner(s). This is only fanfiction and this is just for fun.

Jonathan Crane glared at you, his piercing blue eyes filled with a layer of contempt and almost embarrassment like he was regretting this entire endeavor. It was delightful, seeing him in this state, and you made sure to enjoy every second of it — the way his cheeks were tinting a light pink, his muscles tensed up and his tone coming out a desperate yet still arrogant plea. Moments like these were rare, and you were ready to savor and drag them out every chance you got.

“I need your help,” he repeated, his tone distasteful like he was swallowing a bitter pill. “I told you, I need more money for my experiments, but I can’t do it without any funding. Wayne Enterprises is hosting a gala next week. All the richest of the city will be there and all of them are looking to donate. Charity, science, whatever will make them look good. I know you’re going, so I’m asking — as polite as I can be — please, get me an invite.”

You tilted your head to the side, eyes trailing off to look at some random painting on the wall. You briefly wondered how he got past your home security, but after a few seconds, you focused your attention back on him. “Sorry, what did you say? Can you repeat that?” you said with a slight grin.

Jonathan pursed his lips. “Don’t be clever with me.” But then he shakes his head and lets his serious facade go. “We both know you have the connections to score another invite . . . Please, my darling.”

Your heart fluttered at the nickname, the way it always did when he called you that. You wondered if he knew just how much you enjoyed it.

“I like it when you beg, it’s always been a good look on you.”

Jonathan smiles. A mock smile.

“Well, it’s true. No point in getting all upset.” You shrug, heading over to your kitchen to get some iced coffee for the both of you. “Tell me, why should I help you? Why should I help the man who has made it his mission to offend me every time we speak?”

You may have been a little unfair in saying that. Sure, he was a brat, but so were you. In fact, ever since you two met you had always been at each other’s throats, demeaning one another, insulting everything from intellect to personality to looks. You doubt your paths would have ever crossed had it not been for your good friend Harley, who introduced you both one fateful summer evening.

You don’t know what went wrong that day. Maybe it was the weather, the exceptionally hot wind that only frequented Gotham once every couple of years, the ones that made the city cranky and sweaty, or perhaps it was simply a bad first impression, the ones that just happened every once in a while. It had happened far too long ago to remember what it was that made you dislike Jonathan so much in the first place, and you were sure it didn’t matter. According to everyone who knew him, he had always been an ass, but he was good company once you got to know him.

Maybe he was. You wanted to figure that out, to peel away the layers of armor. You could be friends, lovers even. He could be yours. Yours to do whatever you wanted with. Yours to put in place, because god knows he needed it.

You weren’t sure when you started to think like this. To grow an obsession, but you did, and you couldn’t stop your feelings now. You didn’t want to stop. Loving Jonathan was too addictive, no matter how much he pretended to hate you — because you knew he didn’t actually hate you. Otherwise, he wouldn’t stop in once every while, under the pretense of snarky put-downs or brags. He wouldn’t graze his fingers with yours when walking by, and he wouldn’t ask your friends (namely Harley) what you did, what you liked, and what you talked about.

“Because deep down,” Jonathan answered, following you into the kitchen, “you know I’m brilliant, and you know I deserve your help.” He accepted the coffee, taking a small sip before continuing, “But you’re too prideful to admit it.”

“Maybe I am, but that’s not a good reason. Deserve isn’t enough, Crane. At least not for me. I know you can do better than this, convince me. That mouth must be good for something.”

Jonathan paused, his tongue briefly sweeping over his lower lip, making it glisten in the light of the lamp. You weren’t sure if the brief silence was because he got flustered, or he was just thinking. “Then do it because you want to,” he finally said. “Because you know my research is important and you care for it, enough to do me this one simple favor.”

“I don’t know . . .” you trailed off in a teasing tone.

It seemed like Jonathan was getting annoyed again. “My dear, won’t you help me?”

“I’m still thinking.”

He groaned. “Pretty please?”

You let out a little sigh, barely audible. “I will. For you.”

That last part had intended to come off as flirtatious and pretentious, but instead, it was soft and delicate, so vulnerable it took you off guard.

“Thank you,” he said, setting his glass down. He had finished all of the coffee, quickly enough so that there were still ice cubes lying on the bottom of the glass. “I’ll pick you up, around four. Who knows, maybe we’ll even have some fun.”

And that was it. He left through your front door without saying anything else, leaving you with thoughts of the gala and what dress you were going to wear.

That next week you had settled on one and bought yourself a burgundy dress, a beautiful shade of red, one like expensive wine or fresh blood, a color that you knew looked good on you. It was a deep cut that went through the valley of your breasts, but if you pressed your arms inwards just slightly, which you fully intended to do, they would push up. It was a look classy enough for a gala, but still seductive enough to garner attention.

Originally, you weren’t going to attend the function at all. This kind of stuff had always been boring for you, even as a child who was forced to go, but if Jonathan was going on your behalf then you sorta had to and definitely wanted to.

A ring sounded through your house. He was here.

You opened the door and took a deep breath once you saw Jonathan. He was dressed in a neat suit, but not like the suit he was wearing when you last saw him. This one was charcoal black, silky, and smooth, with a white handkerchief in his outer breast pocket. His shoes were the same color and looked like they had just been shined, and in his hand was a bouquet of red roses.

“For you,” he said, placing them in your hands. His eyes swept over your figure, and his mouth parted for a moment. “It matches.” You huffed, secretly flattered. “But it’s such a shame.” You furrowed your eyebrows, confused. “Such a pretty little dress wasted on such an ugly little thing.”

You blinked, and then tossed the flowers to the side, letting them fall into a patch of dirt (you were definitely going to pick them up later). “Like you’re such a piece of work.”

“I am,” he said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Men and women love me.”

Despite how attractive you found him, you really didn’t believe that. You were sure his attitude warded most people off, and besides, he was an introvert and a criminal. Dating wasn’t just something people like him did often.

“We’ll see. This gala will be filled with attractive young bachelors. Get one interested in you and I’ll admit you're handsome,” you challenged.

“Admit?” He laughed, a beautiful laugh. “Admit implies that you already find me handsome, you just don’t want to confess so.”

This man needed to be slapped. He needed to be given a good, hard hit across the face.

“You know what? I feel like being alone tonight. I think I’ll just go to the gala without you.”

You were about to close the door, intending to head to your garage, but Jonathan grabbed your wrist and pulled you outside, shutting the door behind you.

“No takebacks. You promised. Where’s your honor?”

“Honor?” You scoffed. “I’m a killer, what did you expect?”

Jonathan must have really thought that you were going to leave because he gripped your wrist tighter. “I’m sorry,” he quickly said. “I’ll be good tonight.” He placed his index finger to his thumb with his free hand and made a zipping motion across his lips. “See?”

“You better be. I’m doing you a favor here. Now, come inside, we’ll take my car—”

“I have a car,” Jonathan said. “I even got us a driver.”

You took a peek over his shoulders. Sure enough, there was a fancy car waiting in the driveway, engine still on. It was difficult to see through the windows but you could make out the faint outline of a man in the driver’s seat.

“If you insist.”

He held out his arm for you to take, and while you did want to, you instead shoved it away. For a moment, you swore a flicker of hurt crossed his face, but it was gone too fast for you to be sure it was even there at all.

“Where’s my invite?” he asked.

“You don’t have one. You’re going as my plus one.”

“As your date?”

“It’s not a date. I thought you said you were going to be a good boy. What’s with all this complaining?”

“I’m not complaining, I was expressing my feelings. You should work on that. As a psychiatrist, I recommend—”

“—I recommend you shut the fuck up.”

Jonathan put his hands up, surrendering, but he did so beaming.

It hadn’t taken too long to get to the party. Traffic was high as always, but time seemed to be flowing faster than ever, despite you and Jonathan staying silent.

When you arrived there was a line of cars. Wayne Manor, a building you had only been to twice before, was still as impressive as you remember. It was a collection of elegant architecture and stonework, with a large wooden entrance that opened up to a main hall. The size of the driveway and front lawn was a bit unnecessary, at least to you, but what else could you expect from old money?

After getting out of the car you were greeted by cameras and reporters, lights flashing in your eyes, but you didn’t bother with them.

Jonathan reached out his hand, and this time you did take it — but only because everyone was watching, and if you pushed him away it would have caused an unnecessary scene. Jonathan’s driver drove the car away for parking and you both walked inside.

The inside was spacious, with chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, and people dressed classy, with gloves and diamond earrings, all mingling and chatting with each other about the stock market or their annoying ex-spouse or how it was such a bother when their vacation to Switzerland had to be canceled because of work. There was a tray of snacks and waiters walking around with luxurious drinks, something you immediately took advantage of.

“Thank you, sir,” you said politely, taking a glass of champagne, but before you could take a sip someone called out your name.

You turned around to see Bruce Wayne himself waving over to you, a boyish charm about him. He had two women on his arms, models or prostitutes, or both, you couldn’t tell, but they were drop-dead gorgeous.

Your parents did business with him, and as a result, you met him at a young age. You were never really buddy best friends, but you went to the same school and that was enough for him to invite you to all his parties and greet you as though you were a family friend.

“You know Bruce Wayne?” Jonathan whispered, but before you could answer Bruce approached you both.

“I haven’t seen you around in a while,” he said. “This is Mila and Stephanie. Say hi ladies.” They giggled and waved as he gave the back of your hand a little kiss. “Gorgeous girl. You should wear these outfits more often, you truly look stunning.”

You let him put his arm around your waist, enjoying the compliment.

“Oh, no,” you said modestly. “It’s just a dress.”

Jonathan chuckles. “Ah, don’t be like that, my darling. You look exquisite.”

You all but glared at him. Now he said you looked nice.

“What’s your name? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.” Bruce removed his arm from around your waist and held it out to shake Jonathan’s hand.

“Dr. Jonathan Crane,” he responded, a little tense. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Wayne.”

“Jonathan’s actually doing some research into brain chemistry,” you said.

“Really? Tell me about it, Dr. Crane,” Bruce said, flashing a charming smile.

“I would,” Jonathan responded, turning to you, “but I don’t wanna bore my girl.”

“Your girl?” Bruce repeated, eyes glancing at you. “ You’re a lucky guy. Tell me how scored such a beauty like her?”

“Oh, it wasn’t that hard.” Jonathan reached around and put his hand on your shoulder. “She was practically falling all over me.”

That was true, but your jaw still clenched. “He likes to exaggerate,” you told Bruce with a little laugh.

“Well, if you ever want to change things up a little, I’m right here.” Bruce winked comically, leaving with his girls.

You could tell Bruce wasn’t joking. It sounded like a serious offer, only told in a joking format so as to not rile Jonathan up, as he was under the impression Jonathan was your actual boyfriend.

“You’re a jealous mongrel,” you told Jonathan once Bruce was out of sight. You both walked over to a more secluded corner. “Can’t imagine the idea of having to share, huh? Had to go and make up stories?”

Jonathan scowled. “He was shameless around you. Be grateful I warded him off,” he said arrogantly. “And it’s not like you guys would have worked out. With what your hobby and all.”

You didn’t say anything. Jonathan was jealous, huh? You know felt a sudden urge to go after Bruce, get a little drunk, and follow him back to his room. It’s not like he wasn’t handsome, he was the most eligible bachelor in the city. And you did like him. He was funny and nice. Plus, you two had known each other for a long while. What a fun trope, especially if it was making Jonathan mad.

“A good fuck needs to work out only for the night.” You shrugged.

“You—you can’t,” Jonathan sputtered out. “You’re here with me, not him.”

“I don’t see the problem. I got you in the door and now you don’t need me anymore. What’s wrong if I have some fun?”

“You can’t.”

You waved him off, though you were enjoying the way he was pouting.

“Brat,” you muttered under your breath.

“I’m not a brat.” He gave a dry chuckle. “Excuse me for wanting to spend the night with you.”

“Then why don’t you act like it?” You grinned devilishly. “Act like you want nothing more than to be here.”

Jonathan’s breathing hitched. Yours did too.

“You want it?”

“Don’t be scared.”

After you said that he didn’t hesitate to lean forward to give you a hard kiss, bringing his hand around the back of your head to push you both even closer together. He pulled away, his face still close to yours.

“Like that?”

“Yeah, like that,” you breathed out.

“I can give you more,” he whispered in your ear, his breath almost ticklish. “I know you want it. Been fantasizing about me all this time, hmm?”

You smiled coyly.

“For me to bend you over like the whore you are—”

“—Careful, Crane. I might just have to slap you.”

“Say it. Say you want me to fuck you. Fucking say it—”

You took a quick glance around the room to see if anyone was looking, which they thankfully weren’t, and then gave Jonathan a quick, harsh slap to the face.

The force of it made his neck turn, and his cheeks immediately turned red. He stayed silent for a moment, looking up at you through thick eyelashes, eyes narrowed in lust. It was all the conformation you needed to grab his chin, lift his face up, and give him another slap.

Before you could say anything else he pressed his lips up against you again, pressing you up against the wall passionately.

You backed away, and he furrowed his eyebrows, but all you did was grab his hand, feeling a frenzy of desire take over you. “Let’s go.”

You dragged him through the sea of people and out a backdoor. There were a couple of people walking around in the garden, but you managed to find a place secluded enough for you and Jonathan. The ground was grassy and soft, and no one was walking by. Even if they did, they’d have to be purposefully looking for you two to see you both behind the trees and flowers.

“Lay down,” you ordered.

He grinned but did as you asked. “Here? Outside? You’re such a naughty girl.”

“Do you wanna wait until we get home?”

“No,” he said, a little too eagerly. “I want it now.” He sat up and tugged on your dress, running his hand up your leg. “You’re so soft,” he murmured, planting a few wet kisses on your thigh.

You sighed contently, enjoying the affection he was giving you. This moment felt like a haze, like the world was just slipping by and you were stuck in time, a feeling that made you wonder if this was a dream or not. The evening sunset and dark sky weren’t helping either. It all felt perfect, too perfect.

“Mmm.” Jonathan reached up and hooked his fingers into your underwear. You snapped out of your trance and swatted his hand away.

“Getting a little touchy there, aren’t you?”

He smirked, looking up at you through thick eyelashes. “Just tryna please you, darling.”

You thought for a moment, then decided that you would let him eat you out.

“Alright then. Please me, Dr. Crane.”

Jonathan’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment at the name, savoring the way it rolled so delicately off your tongue. He lifted up your dress and pulled down your panties. You kicked them off to the side and rested your dominant leg on his shoulder.

He pushed his finger against your folds, making a humming sound. “You’re so wet, darling.”

He leaned forward to suck on your clit roughly.

You lightly gasped at the pleasant sensation, bucking your hips into his face accidentally. You had meant to show more control, but how could you when Jonathan was so hungrily lapping? burying his face into your pussy like he was starved, passionately alternating between licking and sucking.

“Oh, Jonathan.”

His fingers, which had been gripping your hips, moved upward. As he continued to press his tongue against your clit his finger gently prodded your entrance, making sure that you were ready. He pushed his finger, curling it slightly.

You stifled your moans, not wanting a passerby to catch you two in the act, but you were finding it difficult. He kept thrusting his finger in and out of you, adding another one just a minute later.

You threw your head back, eyes shut. You held his head for balance and relaxed, letting yourself go into a peaceful bliss. But then you felt Jonathan’s teeth nip your bud, biting into it deliberately, and you yelped.

Gripping his hair, you forced him to look at you. His mouth and nose were covered in your wetness, and his lips were curving up into a delightful smile.

“What was that for?”

He shrugged. “Mmm, I couldn’t help it, Ma’am.”

Instead of reprimanding him, you took the selfish route and pushed his face in between your legs, grinding onto his lips until you felt that familiar sense of elated happiness. You came all over him, your brain shutting off, or rather, getting overloaded at that euphoric, all-consuming release.

You let go of Jonathan’s hair, but he didn’t pull away. He licked up your cum, making your nerves feel overstimulated, but after he was satisfied, he stopped.

“You like that?” he asked.

“F-fuck, yeah.”

You grabbed your panties and put them back on, much to Jonathan’s dismay.

“Where are you going?” He got up, using his sleeve to wipe off the remaining juices on his face. You could see a tent, his cock poking out from under his pants.

“Home, of course. And you’re coming with me.”

He shook his head vehemently, wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing his hard cock against your body. “Let’s finish this here. I can’t wait any longer. Don’t make me wait.”

“If you’re a good boy, you’ll wait.”

“I can’t,” he bitched desperately, hurriedly pulling down his pants. “I won’t. I’ve waited too fucking long.”

You grabbed his cock through the fabric, squeezing it tight in his hands.

His face contorted to one of pleasure and pain. “Huh!”

“You think you can just get what you want? After you’ve such a dick? Oh, ‘she was practically falling all over me’. ‘Such a pretty little dress wasted on such an ugly little thing.’”

“C’mon, I didn’t mean it! You looked so beautiful, I was just trying to make you mad. Be nice . . . Pleaseee?”

You gripped it tighter and he whimpered. “See how pathetic you get the moment I show an ounce of authority? How you start to beg? If I say something you do it. Do you understand?” He didn’t say anything, his lips still parted in pain. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, yes!” he choked out.

You let go. “Good boy. Now go call your driver and ask him to pick us up ‘round back. Unless you want everyone to see your erection?”

You gestured to the front of the manor, where through the bushes you could still see people enjoying the party.

“No, no.” He called his driver, trying his best to cover his erection by interlocking his hands in front of his waist. “You’re a cruel goddess.”

While you two waited for the driver, you peppered sweet kisses along Jonathan’s neck, but when he arrived, you stopped, making him groan at the loss.

Throughout the drive back to your place, you ghosted your fingers over Jonathan’s lap, occasionally resting your hand on his length. Once the driver dropped you both off, you wasted no time in pushing him to your room.

He took off his clothes as did you, his white cock springing up furiously. It was just the right size, bigger and longer than average, almost so that you worried about having to fit it inside you.

His figure was lanky, but still muscled, just the way you thought it would be. You placed your fingers on his chest, twisting his nipples. He shuddered and took off his glasses, placing them on the nightstand. You shoved him down on your bed and he immediately spread his legs, giving you perfect access.

“Want me to suck you off, Jon?”

“Yes!” he said impatiently. “Just do it.”

You spanked his balls with your hand, carefully watching the way they bounced ever so slightly.

“Nghh! I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Do it whenever you feel like.”

Despite his words, you could see him waiting anxiously for you to touch him.

You did so, kissing the tip of his head and running your tongue through the slit, tasting the salty precum he was leaking. He hissed when you took his entire length. “Ah.”

You gripped your thumb so you wouldn’t gag and took him in all the way, hollowing out your cheeks. He thrusted up, deepthroating you for a hot second before he placed his hips firmly against the bed, not wanting to do anything that would upset you.

“So—so warm,” he stuttered out. “Can’t wait to feel your cunt, if your mouth is this fucking good.”

You would have said something, but your mouth was filled, busy bobbing up and down. He squirmed and moaned, shamelessly being as loud as he could. You could feel yourself getting wet again, but you controlled your urges for the sake of Jonathan.

He brushed your hair out of the way, scrunching up his face. “M’gonna — hnghhh — m’gonna come!”

That was when you pulled off of him.

It took a moment for him to realize what you were doing, but when he did, he wasted no time in complaining.

“No,” he mewled, tearing up. “I’ve been such a good boy. Such a good boy.”

“Have you?” You giggled.

“I need you, I need this,” he moaned. “I’ve wanted you so bad — that’s why I came to you, that’s why I came to you and no one else. I didn’t even need the sponsors that bad, I just wanted to see you. I . . . I’m in agony,” he continued dramatically.

“That’s sad.”

More tears ran down his cheek at your nonchalant words. He sniffled. “Please, stop that and just make me come!”

“Okay. I think you deserve it.”

But instead of putting your mouth back on him, you sunk onto his cock, slowly at first, so your pussy could get used to the size.

“Oh, fuck,” Jonathan cursed, placing one of his hands on your waist, his fingers digging into your skin. His other hand went up to play with your breasts, cupping and kneading them like they were pieces of dough.

You started bouncing, a string of incoherent words and moans leaving your mouth. Jonathan sat up and wrapped you in his arms, kissing down your neck as you moved.

“You feel so good,” you murmured, clenching around his cock. “I s-should have done this sooner.”

“Should’ve,” Jonathan agreed. “But — ah — we can always do this more often, yeah?”

Too blissed out to respond with words, you just nodded your head, resting your head in the crook of his neck.

It didn’t take long for both of you to come after that. His hot load spurted inside of you and you came again, but this time on his cock.

He collapsed, exhausted from the sensations.

You slowly got up, letting out a little wince as you felt his length leave you. You cuddled up beside him, caressing his cheek, wrapping you both in the blanket. He looked a little tired, and you didn’t blame him. So were you.

“You set my soul alight,” he said softly. “You always have.”

You wanted to ask him how deep his feelings ran, if this was just sex, or if it was something more, but when he fell asleep on your breast, you dropped the idea. He trusted you enough to let his guard down around you, and for now, that was more than enough.

The rest of the night was spent holding each other in your arms as you slept. When you woke up in the morning, he was still there, snoring softly like he was a peaceful angel.

You pulled him closer to you. “I’m never letting you go,” you murmured darkly. “Never.”

#Jonathan Crane #Jonathan Crane x reader #Jonathan Crane x y/n #Jonathan Crane x you #the dark knight trilogy #fanfiction #scarecrow x reader #scarecrow x y/n #scarecrow x you #cillian murphy #pinguwrites

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imfinereallyy · 1 year

Text

Shared Kisses

for @steddie-week I’m behind on it but I couldn’t resist day 3, and it’s a little late because I fell asleep while writing it, that's how sleep deprived I am haha. prompt: first kiss

“Okay, okay! It's my turn now. Sir Steven, Lady Birdie, tell me, who was your first kiss?” Eddie giggles from his spot on the carpet. He smells like stale menthols and pine; Steve can’t get enough of it. He has to resist from leaning his head into Eddie and taking a breath of him.

Steve is starting to believe he needs his head checked. Again. Wanting to smell one of his friend's necks isn't normal.

Steve is also starting to realize that maybe that is because he wants to be more than friends. God, he is such a loser sometimes.

“Oh, this is unfair! You know the rules state that we can’t ask it back now. Boooo.” Robin chants from her place on the couch, where she hangs upside down. Steve is for once glad they aren’t playing a drinking game; he is sure Robin would have vomited by now otherwise.

“I still think this a weird game to be playing.” Steve dodges the question and nudges Eddie with his knee.

“C’mon Harrington, questions is an absolute solid getting-to-know-you game.” Eddie nudged his knee back.

“Dude we’ve been friends for six months.”

“Yes but there are so many layers I have yet to peel.”

Robin grunts from her upside-down position, Steve can tell all the blood has finally rushed to her head, and she tumbles onto the ground next to them. “Gotta agree with Metal Man here, Steve-o. I’ve known you even longer, and I still don’t know everything. And we are practically connected.

Steve blows air from his lips, “So this is just a ploy to expose all my secrets.”

Steve can tell that Robin, who might as well share a soul with him at this point, can sense how uncomfortable he is beginning to feel. Her teasing softens for a moment. “What if I went first, yeah?”

Steve pauses, “Yeah okay.”

“You got to promise not to make fun of me.”

“Of course, Robs.”

“I make no such promises.” Eddie interrupts but ultimately cuts the tension in the room. Steve kind of feels like it is on purpose, by the way his eyes skim Steve carefully, and the way Robin lets out a loud snort.

“Wasn’t talking to you doofus. I don’t actually respect your opinion of me.”

“Hey!” Eddie protests, but they all know he isn’t really offended.

Robin chuckles lightly, but continues. “It was in middle school, at one of my first girl-boy parties; gross, right? I hate that we called it those. Anyway. They decide to play spin the bottle, and I feel pressure because my only friend at the time is Barb, and she didn’t come and Colleen Walsh is doing it, and she—well, she’s the prettiest, most popular girl in school at the time and I’d be an idiot not to follow along. So we’re playing Spin the Bottle, right? And rounds go by, and it doesn’t land on me, and I’m grateful but Colleen notices. She goads me on to do it, take a spin since it isn’t fair I haven’t kissed anyone. So, wanting to get over being the center of attention, I reach over and spin it, and it lands on—“

“Wait.” Steve stops Robin, realizing she is about to out herself to Eddie on Steve’s behalf. He doesn’t want her to do that but on anything but her own terms. “Are you sure about this, Robs?”

Robin throws her head back and laughs, “Yea, I’m sure dingus. No need to worry. Anyway, you’ll never believe who it lands on.”

Eddie wiggles his eyebrows, “C’mon buck don’t leave us hanging.”

“Tommy Hagan.”

Eddie and Steve both start choking on air while Steve screams, “What!?!”

Eddie collapses on the ground with a dramatic groan, covering his face with his hands and mumbling, “why cruel world?” Robin giggles at his antics.

“You’re telling me it wasn’t….?” Steve trails off, hoping Robin gets the hint.

“That it wasn’t a girl? No dingus, just because I’m a lesbian doesn’t mean all my experiences are with women. Besides, I was 12; I didn’t realize staring at Colleen’s boobs wasn’t jealousy.”

“Oh, thank god, you know; I thought I was going to have to break the news to you that your gayer than the men’s locker room after a winning game,” Eddie mumbles behind his hands still on the ground.

“Only you would make a sports reference in relation to gayness, Eds. Also, wait, you knew she was lesbian? How did you know? Why are you freaking out then?” Steve rapid fires questions.

Still covered with his hands, “Like seeks like, Harrington. It’s like a sixth sense.”

Steve’s mouth goes dry, “You’re gay?” He says hopefully.

Eddie finally removes his hands from his face but doesn’t sit up. “Yea, Stevie, thought you knew, honestly. Not like it’s a secret, all of Hawkins talks about it.”

“I try not to listen to the rumor mill.”

A soft smile graces Eddie’s face, “One of the many things I love about you sweetheart.”

Steve tries not to blush, but ultimately fails. “Still doesn’t explain why you’re freaking out about Tommy. Sure, he sucks, but like I reacted that way cause I was friends with him at some point. What’s you’re excuse?”

Finally Eddie sits up with a groan. “Okay, promise not to laugh or freak out?”

Robin and Steve both nod and mumble a little “yea of course”.

Eddie rubs a hand down his face, “Okay, I freaked out because even though it’s not my turn to answer and I don’t have to, well—it’s because. Okay, I’m stalling; it’s because Tommy Hagan was also my first kiss. When I was 15, under the bleachers.”

Robin and Steve are both silent, Eddie looks at them expectantly. “Are you guys going to say anything?”

Robin speaks up first, “I think this is the closest we can get to not freaking out.”

“I think I would prefer that over the freaky twin silence.”

Steve still stays quiet while Robin proceeds to react, “Oh my god Munson! This is the funniest and freakiest thing ever. And not in a freak way you like! This is magnificent, oh my god….” Robin continues to cackle and make fun of Eddie, but Steve tunes it out. He can feel all the blood rush to his ears, blocking out all the sound from the room. Tommy. Tommy. He has kissed both of his best friends, one of which he wants to kiss himself. That just seems unfair to Steve. It hurts Steve, and he doesn’t know why. Actually, he knows precisely why.

“My first kiss was when I was 13,” Steve says abruptly, not making eye contact. The both of them stop their bickering and turn to Steve. They stay silent, as if they know Steve needs it to get through it. He is thankful for them both.

“I was 13, and my parents weren’t home. It had become the usual at this point, but I was sad because it was my birthday, and this was the first birthday they didn’t even send a card. And Tommy decided to come over to cheer me up; this was back, I guess, when he still cared too. And we didn’t do much; I didn’t like to make a big fuss about my birthday even then, but it was a nice night out just before the break of summer. So we decided to stargaze on the roof. And I don’t know how it happened, but one second we’re trying to find the Little Dipper, and the next, Tommy is kissing me. It was nice, honestly. To have someone you care about show you affection. And when he pulled away, I smiled at him, but he just stared. And then—“ Steve swallows thickly before looking up at Eddie and Robin, who both look at him with rapt attention.

“Then his face turns angry, and he punches me. He punches me so hard that I almost fall off the roof. He tells me not to be a queer, and if I told anyone, who would tell everyone what I was. And it seemed unfair, right? Because he kissed me, I only smiled. I haven’t kissed a boy since.”

Suddenly there is an arm around his shoulder, “Stevie….” Eddie tucks Steve’s head into the crook of his neck, and Steve begins to sob.

Robin quietly gets up, “I’m going to make us some tea.” Steve knows she can sense that he needs a moment with Eddie. Steve loves her more than life.

“I’m sorry this is stupid. I don’t even know why I’m crying.”

Eddie rubs soft circles on his back, “It’s not stupid, honey. He hurt you in more ways than one, and traumatized you from exploring yourself. You have every right to be upset. Thank you for telling us. You didn’t—you didn’t have to. You could have lied, or told us your first kiss with a girl.—“

“Colleen Walsh.” Steve interrupts into Eddie’s neck.

Eddie barks out a laugh, “Of course it was. Anyway, Steve, thank you for sharing. I’m glad you feel safe with us.”

Steve’s tears are no longer. “I always feel safe with you, Eds.” And the Steve finally does the thing he’s been wanting to do all night. He takes a big sniff of Eddie. Steve doesn’t care if it’s weird because he settles a sort of calm in him.

Eddie grips his waist tight, and puts a finger under Steve’s chin, pulling his face close to his own. “Yea, I do? Does that mean you also trust me?”

Steve can feel Eddie’s breath on his lips. He knows it’s probably not good how quickly his mood has changed, but he can’t find it in himself to care. The air between them is electric, and intense. Steve can feel it make his whole body come alive. “Of course I do.”

Eddie leans even closer, “Good. Because I think it’s a damn shame a pretty boy like you hasn’t kissed another boy since.” Then Eddie presses their lips together.

Steve isn’t sure if someone were to ask what his first kiss with Eddie was like if he would be able to answer. It’s indescribable; it’s perfect. But if he is to try, it would be this, soft, slow, deep, and oh so very good. Steve can feel the heat from Eddie’s lips pulsing into his own. Eddie’s hands' grip Steve’s face, angling him deeper as he slides his tongue into his mouth. Steve pulls him closer by his t-shirt. Going crazy off the taste of salt and chocolate that now swipes his tongue.

They both pull back a little breathlessly, hands still gripping each other. They lean their foreheads together, and Steve smiles. He smiles so big his face hurts. And Eddie does the most thing in return,

He smiles back.

The moment is broken, though, when Robin enters the room again with a bowl of popcorn and a loud “Oh thank god, I was sick of the pining. From both of you.”

Eddie sputters while Steve just laughs at her. “I thought you were making tea Birdie?”

Robin sits down next to them again, “Too much work and I was snacky.”

Steve throws popcorn at her head but isn’t upset at all. He leans his head on Eddie’s shoulder, and Eddie kisses the top of Steve’s head.

Robin smiles fondly at them. Then her face scrunches up in pain, “Wait, all of our first kisses was Tommy Hagan?”

“Yep.”

“Unfortunately so.”

“God I do not want to give that twerp any more credit in life than I have to. Why are we all like this?”

Steve giggles while Eddie shrugs.

Robin can’t keep a straight face anymore and falls into laughter. “Wait, does this mean we are all bounded by this? I completely unrelated, non-upside down experience?”

Eddie speaks up before Steve, “I believe so, Lady Buckley. A trauma outside of other worlds binds us. We have been bound since before the slain of Vecna.”

Robin shrieks, “Awee, guys! We were always meant to meet then.”

Then Robin tackles the both of them to the ground in a bear hug. Steve’s not even mad that she’s in the middle of Eddie and him.

Because this, right here, is all the love he’ll ever need.

***

I'm behind on steddie week, but I want to throw my hat in the ring. Have a written a first kiss thing before? Yes I have. But I can’t resist. Thank for the read, love this community so much.

#steddie #steddieweek2023 #Steve Harrington #platonic stobin #robin buckley #Eddie Munson #bisexual steve harrington #gay eddie munson #steddieweek #stranger things #first kiss

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maplesyrupsainz · 1 month

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Hiiii darling i was wondering if prompt 5 with Lance would be possible🥺🫣🩷

pairing: lance stroll x fem y/n reader (she/her)

genre: blurb, best friend's brother

warnings: none just fluff, use of "y/bff/n"

prompt: five [driver] trying to get you to go on a date with him

a/n: omg is this my first ever lance request

my masterlist | my 1k celebration

“aw, come on, y/n,” lance teased you mercilessly, “just one date. you know you want to.”

“lance, no.” you rolled your eyes, turning away from him. “it will always be no.”

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

lance was your best friend's older brother by two years. he was totally off limits to you in a romantic or sexual way, that much was always clear to you. but that did not stop him from continuously flirting with you and asking, no, more like begging, you to go on a date with him just once. he was becoming extremely difficult to deny, especially as over the years as he really grew into himself; he was undeniably hot.

“god, he's so annoying.” your best friend threw herself next to you onto your bed in a huff, obviously talking about her brother.

“what now?” you giggled, poking her side. you tried to keep conversation about him lighthearted, keeping her from being too mad at him at any time. what can you say, you're covering your back for that day you might really cave and go out with him.

“he always eats my food, he always steals my shampoo, he always scares any boy away that might just be interested in me for once. it's so annoying. and he doesn't even live in the same house as me!” she ranted, using her hands animatedly, making you laugh.

“maybe you should change your locks.” you suggested with another giggle.

“maybe i should kill him.” she stated, twisting her body round to face you, a serious expression on her face, making you burst into laughter.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

you unlocked the door to y/bff/n's apartment, dragging your body heavy with tiredness into the hallway. you were staying with her temporarily; you were in between places and being fussy looking for somewhere new to rent.

“y/n!” a male voice called out to you suddenly, making you jump and drop your keys to the floor with a loud clatter.

“shit–” you muttered, immediately searching for them on the hardwood floor.

“oh, sorry y/n, didn't mean to scare you.” it was lance, of course. lance who spent 75% of his time in his hometown at his sister's place instead of at his own. it would've almost been cute, if it wasn't lance.

“what are you doing here?” you raised your eyebrows at him, still standing in the hallway with your coat and bags. you were expecting a relaxing night alone, as y/bff/n was away on a business conference overnight. he just shrugged in response. you didn't bother standing around for much longer, dropping your bags and peeling the layers off your body along with your shoes. you weren't going to let a man ruin the cosy night in you had planned.

“what's for dinner?” he asked, following you into the kitchen like a lost puppy.

“i was going to order a pizza.” you reply, picking up a stack of menus from the corner of the room.

“cool, i'll have pepperoni.” he grinned mischievously at you as you rolled your eyes. you ordered the pizza for him anyway, what else could you do?

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

it was just before 1am on the coach when the first yawn escaped your lips, stretching your body out lazily, like a cat.

“tired?” lance asked, a slight smirk playing at his lips. you shrugged, not wanting to be the one to end the evening. the two of you had been chatting easily all evening, watching a couple of movies and eating takeout pizza. you were surprisingly having a lot of fun with him, and felt very at ease. “or another movie?”

“you can put on another, if you like.” you shrugged again, leaving him to ultimately make the decision on where the rest of the night went.

“no, you look tired, you should get some rest.” you felt slight disappointment at his words, but who were you to challenge them. you nodded, stretching again in an attempt to start moving your body again. “you wanna know something?”

“huh?” you stopped moving then, looking over at him.

“we just had a date.”

“what?” you sat upright, suddenly more awake than you'd ever been. “what are you talking about? a date, no way.” you scoffed, shaking your head at him.

“it kind of was a date. think about it.” he shrugged, standing up. “well, that's me beat. goodnight y/n, sweet dreams.”

he left you there, wide eyed, confused, butterflies soaring.

#f1 #f1 smau #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 imagine #blurb #f1 blurb #lance stroll #ls18 #ls18 x reader #ls18 blurb #ls18 fic #ls18 fanfic #ls18 smau #ls18 fluff #maddie's fanfics

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chrollohearttags · 3 months

Text

LUST • KYOJURO RENGOKU | the seven slutty sins series • part three

you’re his one and only vice..

perv!rengoku, mutual masturbation, voyeurism, phone sex, cum licking/finger sucking, roleplay, infidelity

── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ── ･｡ﾟ☆:

it was embarrassing..truly.

an absolute shame even....but honestly, he couldn’t help himself..he couldn’t help but to run the tip of his finger along the side of his shaft, up to his aching tip that seeped with precum. He couldn’t help but to shudder when he watched you through the window of your home..the one you left open just enough for him to peek through late at night. It was all but inevitable when you stripped down in front of him, peeling layer upon layer off of your body..letting it hit the floor as your beautiful skin because exposed to the cool air. Those supple breasts, plump thighs and perfectly round ass that jiggled with each step. It wasn’t fair..not even a little bit! It wasn’t fair that he was stuck stroking his cock from the sidelines, seeping precum like some hormonal virgin and attempting to stifle his whimpers, instead of being able to pound you from behind as you stood on your tiptoes. Rather than this clenching fist, it should’ve been that tight pussy wrapped around him..squeezing and clamping down as you cried out his name. He was a feign for you, an addict even..he just couldn’t help himself! Kyo was a well kept man who seemed innocuous enough to the rest of the world but behind closed doors..he harbored a dirty little secret. He was an addict! He craved physical contact all the time and when he couldn’t get it, he allowed his imagination to run wild. He got creative..even now, as he watched you through the window, completely undressed..sprawl out on your bed. Legs parted to each side as your fingers glided down your slit. Those pretty brown lips parted to reveal a bright pink center. You were like that of forbidden fruit..tantalizing, sweet yet unattainable. He wanted you desperately, craved you beyond comprehension but all he could do was continue pumping..stroking himself as he watched you join in on the fun. Gliding your tongue across your lips and eventually propping a finger or two inside of your mouth to lubricate them. Tasting the remnants of yourself on the pads. “Fuck..I bet you taste so good, baby..” he knew you saw him. He knew that you were his one object of desire right now so you decided to give him a show. To keep his eyes fixated on you. “Go slow, beautiful..play with it, just like that..” Groping your own tits and pinching the nipples, you’d plunge those digits knuckle deep and whimper his name. Pounding into yourself, wishing it were him. Bucking those hips to meet the thrusts as you imagined it was that big dick of his stretching you out. “I want to stretch you open, (y/n)..wanna make you feel so good, baby..” This was wrong in so many ways…a sin of the utmost caliber but you both loved it! Loved the rush that came along with doing something salacious. Something that neither of you had any business doing.

after all…you were someone else’s. That much apparent by the giant rock glistening from your ring fingering. Even so, it stopped neither of you from crying out and begging for one another because it was only him that could satisfy your body and vice versa. The sounds of your squelching heat ringing out over the speaker of his phone, along with loud moans. Calling him all types of lewd names and all the things you want him to do. They didn’t fall on deaf ears because in a matter of moments, Kyo couldn’t hold back and he couldn’t contain himself. He wanted to fulfill your fantasy more than anything and the thought of that alone was what sent him over the edge. Grunting and cursing as warm beads of pearl colored liquid came gushing over his knuckles. The best nut he’s had in a long time but it can’t be it..he needs more! After all, when lust consumes you, it’s impossible to come out of it. Even when you know it’s morally wrong in every way.

“My husband isn’t home, maybe you should come over and we can really have some fun.”

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catladyoftheyr · 2 months

Text

Muscle Memory PT 2

PT 1

Miguel O’Hara x Reader

Word count: 937, just a short chapter :)

Summary: you left something at the bar and Miguel offers to drive up to return it; Miguel has some alone time after work and has some ✨ fun✨ while he watches the videos he took last time (this chapter is really just Mig jerking off sorry not sorry)

Warnings: m masturbation, porn, no plot just smut really, mention of unprotected p in v and facials, mentions of jealousy.

Tag: @safixiovi

You’d been back home for a couple days and were heating up leftovers for dinner when you heard your phone ping. You picked it up and saw a text from Miguel

Mig: hey did you lose something?

You: maybe, what is it?

You racked your brain for any potential missing items, but you misplaced things fairly often so it could be anything. Your phone chimed again with an incoming picture from Miguel. It was your charm bracelet with your initials. It must have slipped off when you were at the bar. It looked like the clasp was broken so you made a mental note to get it fixed when you found time.

You: yeah it’s mine. Thank you for finding it! Can you hold onto it for a little while? I don’t know when I’ll have time to drive into town.

Mig: I can run it up to you this weekend. I don’t have any plans anyways.

You: That's like a 2 hour drive, Miguel. I can’t ask you to do that. Especially just for a bracelet.

Mig: good thing I’m offering then. We can make a weekend of it; the bar will be fine without me. Unless you were planning on having someone else in your bed this weekend ;)

You: who still uses the winky face? I’ll see you Friday.

You grabbed your food from the microwave and ate quickly, not caring that it was still cold in the middle. You were always so busy with work that you had a tendency to neglect household chores. As a result, your apartment had started to fall into disarray. You groaned, knowing you had limited time to clean and prepare for your guest. Luckily the kitchen wasn’t too messy, seeing as you weren’t incredibly fond of cooking. You loaded the dishwasher and went on autopilot to tidy the rest of your small apartment.

Miguel’s POV

Miguel locked the back door of O’haras behind him and made the short drive home. He had your bracelet safe inside his glove box and told himself he’d replace the broken clasp before Friday. He let out a deep sigh, exhausted from the evening's work. The bar had been busier than usual and Miguel had had to pull triple duty to call outs. Once past the threshold of his bedroom door he began to immediately peel off layers of clothing before collapsing into bed in just his boxers.

He closed his eyes and willed sleep to come, but he knew it was a lost cause. His mind drifted to the upcoming weekend plans. He wondered what you were doing, what you were thinking about, if you were thinking about him too. Were you alone like him, or was there another man in your bed? Miguel felt a pang of jealousy when he tried to picture you with someone else. He selfishly wanted you to himself.

Miguel thought about the nights you’d spent together, and told himself no one else could measure up to him; that other men couldn’t pleasure you like he does. He’d had his own string of lovers in his bed, but no one matched the chemistry between you and him. Miguel remembered how you looked going down on him, the devilish grin you wore when teased him. He felt his cock twitch as his thoughts grew more lustful.

Memories of the last weekend came flooding back to Miguel, and he grew harder thinking about the way you pressed against him at the pool table, how your mouth felt, and how fucking tight you gripped him when he pounded into you against his car. Miguel pulled his cock through the opening of his boxers and began to pump it slowly and deliberately in his fist. He opened his phone in his other hand and scrolled until he found the footage of him drumming into you. He turned the volume up as loud as it would go, the sounds of skin on skin and raw pleasure filling the room.

“Fuccckkkk” he groaned, slightly quickening the pace of his fist. The way you moaned drove him crazy. He wished he could video call you right now, show you how even when you’re not around he was still enamored by you. He watched the screen intently, remembering how it felt to be inside you, how your pussy gripped him just right. He watched himself grope at your breasts and how they bounced when he fucked you. Miguel’s breathing got heavier, and he stroked himself firmly, watching how your eyes rolled back when he hit your g-spot. He moaned your name as he saw you shake with your orgasm on screen; he bucked his hips into his hand as remembered how it felt to be inside you.

Miguel swiped to the photos he’d taken of you with his cum on your face. You smiled proudly at the camera, so eager to show off for him. He could feel himself getting closer to his own orgasm. “Fuck, nena” he gasped as he pumped his cock as fast as he could. Miguel closed his eyes and pictured himself splattering on your pretty face again, tongue out and eager to taste him. He felt himself shoot warmth out over his hand and torso and sighed as he came down to earth again.

He reached wearily for the tissues on his night stand and cleaned himself quickly. His eyes fell shut heavily as his fatigue began to set in. Miguel sighed as he reached for a spare pillow and rolled over hugging it tight to his check. Sleep came quickly now, and he was sure he’d dream of you.

#muscle memory #miguel o’hara smut #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader

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vibingandsimping · 7 months

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Would you be willing to write Astarion x a fem!reader (if it matters) where originally he’s slightly annoyed because she just seems like another goody two shoes hero, until she finally gets the chance to punish someone for their actions only to realize that she’s just as cruel and violent as he is, she just directs it at people who deserve it the most. I just wanna be bitchy and judgy with him

My character was an oathbreaker paladin and the best way i could describe her is that she became a paladin in the same way mean girls in high school became nurses, to basically bully people for a job which I thought was a ridiculously fun way to play a character and thought Astarion might approve of it too

DAMN IT. Now I have to make a human tav that’s Regina George and play the game as her. Curse you.

How in the hell was an Oathbreaker so good-natured? You went against your contract. You couldn’t be so heroic. He knew something was beyond the surface. It just pissed him off that you concealed that nature. He craved to see that part of you. Perhaps it was a fluke? A one-time deal that damned you? His snippy behavior towards you was bred from the fact he couldn’t figure you out. At least, he thought that, until you reached the Goblin Camp. Your demeanor was so much more aggressive. It was a delicious sight. It first started with you making a goblin kiss your feet. Gods, he loved that. He wished he were you in that position. Astarion simply clapped in amusement and praised you for the cruel behavior.

Who knew you had it in you, darling? From that on you were much more keen on acting such. Not towards the innocent, much to Astarions disappointment, but to those deserving. You’d bring down karma and justice onto those. Such as telling the goblin in the Shadowlands to fetch after dooming an animal to the shadows. Usually, when killing you were quick about it. Not one to make them suffer for long. He found it quite boring til you were faced with the option to murder someone thought evil. The way you drove your blade into their skin and charred their flesh with spells was violent and bloody. Their screams echoing as you slay them. He never thought you more beautiful, honestly, with the blood staining your face and hands. You two would gossip and chat during adventures. Remarking those you’d punished or killed. He’d snob with you about them. Anything to feed into this behavior he beloved. Watching you climb the ladder of power by evoking your justice onto those

Overall, he finds you quite interesting. He can’t wait til he can peel all the layers and get to know the true you. It’s almost like a challenge.

#my asks #anon ask #my writing #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate iii #baldur’s gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 x reader #baldur’s gate 3 x reader #bg3 x reader #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate 3 astarion #mean girls #astarion and regina george is an interesting idea

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evansbby · 1 year

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𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 (𝒑𝒐𝒚𝒕 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆)

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dark alpha!Steve Rogers x naive omega!Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: noncon, dubcon, somnophilia, daddy kink, dark Steve, lactation kink, breeding kink, a/b/o dynamics, some feet stuff, oral (female receiving), 18+ minors dni!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Steve is horny but you’re asleep. That doesn’t mean he won’t have his fun...

(𝑨/𝑵): This is heavy with the somno, so please beware of that! If it isn’t your cup of tea, feel free to ignore and move on!

It’s only 11 at night when Steve walks back into his house. Sam and Bucky are still at the party, but Steve had grown bored within an hour. The truth was, parties didn’t hit the same anymore. Just a bunch of drunk assholes and slutty cheerleaders grinding against each other in a dark haze of alcohol and weed. And as much as Steve tried to enjoy himself, his mind would always drift back to you.

His little omega, perfectly quiet and shy. Safe and sound in his bedroom (he’d locked the doors of the house before he’d left, lest you sneak out. Not that you ever would). Sometimes, he drags you along to these parties only because you look so deliciously uncomfortable and cling to him in the sexiest way. He also likes showing you off from time to time, knowing that the other alphas would kill to have you.

But mostly, Steve likes keeping you safe in his bedroom. He likes walking in to you studying on his desk or his bed, with your little Steve Junior under your arm. Wearing Steve’s old football jersey that completely dwarfs you, his mark on your neck peeking out from under your hair and reminding him of his complete and utter ownership over you.

Fuck, now Steve’s hard. He hopes you’re not asleep, because he can’t wait to sink into your tight little snatch, feel you squeeze around his cock like it’s your job. You’re always so ready for him, so needy for his dick and so snug around it, all weepy and grabby as your feral desire overtakes your shyness. Jesus fucking Christ, his dick is harder than a rock, and he all but sprints up to his bedroom.

You’re asleep. And goddamit, you look so fucking cute. Wrapped up in the comforter like a little burrito in the middle of his king-sized bed. Your head resting on Steve’s pillow rather than your own, and your Steve Junior teddy cuddled up in your arms. Steve feels his mouth quirk up into a smile before he stops himself – he’s no pussy simp! But you do look cute as fuck, so sweet and innocent. So different from all the other sluts he’s used to.

Slowly, Steve peels the comforter off your body before rolling his eyes because underneath that, you’ve covered yourself even further with your little fuzzy blanket that’s more ratty than it is fuzzy. Omegas and their damn nesting tendencies. Steve makes a mental note to order you a new blanket as he sheds this one off of you, only to be greeted by a host of stuffed animals covering your body in yet another layer that he has to get past.

“Fucking asshole toys.” He mutters, before shoving all your toys (except Steve Junior) into a haphazard heap on the floor, making sure to give one or two of them a hard punch in the face for being annoying.

And sure, Steve realises that his room is a lot more feminine now ever since you moved in – flowery bedsheets and stuffed animals everywhere and your beautiful perfumey scent covering everything he owns. But he doesn’t mind as much as he initially thought he would. When Sharon was his girlfriend, he never let her live with him but she would spend the night and try to mess with his stuff by putting her own things on his desk. Best believe, Steve would chuck her random shit in the trash, but you? You’re different.

“So fucking cute…” He murmurs to himself, watching you shiver and hold on tightly to Steve Junior, your nose digging into his fur and a sweet little frown on your face at the loss of warmth from the lack of comforter. He can’t help but stroke your cheek with his knuckles, loving how soft you are. So sweet and pretty and perfect. And most importantly, all his. Every inch of your body belongs to Steve, and it makes him so fucking hard.

“Baby, you have no idea how horny I am right now.” He tells you, continuing to stroke your face while you lay asleep on his pillow. He casually palms his dick with his other hand, already feeling like he’ll blow his load just from looking at you sleeping. “And look at you, fast asleep when you’re the one who gets daddy all riled up in the first place.”

“Steve?” You mumble, scrunching your nose cutely, and it looks like you’re stirring. But you only toss and turn a bit before getting comfortable again, and Steve resumes stroking your cheek for a while before his hand starts slipping down. Down past your delicate neck which bares not only his mark, but often also the imprints of his fingers after he’s choked you during a particularly rough fuck. Down to your chest, covered in his old jersey filled with holes.

He pushes the jersey up over your breasts, watching, almost hypnotised, as your nipples harden in the cool air. God, he loves your tits so fucking much, and you look so pretty all nude and bathing in the moonlight.

It reminds him of the early days, before he’d claimed you. Sometimes, he’d follow you home. Well, that ratty dorm room you called home. And it was all too easy to stand outside your window, watch you change because you were too dumb to draw your curtains. And those moments when you were bare, the moonlight painting you a pretty silver and you being completely unaware that Steve was watching you… Fuck, how beautiful you’d looked. And how hard Steve would cum every time he’d jack off to the memory.

Except not anymore, because now he has you in his bed. His own personal omega to do with as he pleases. Awake or asleep, it doesn’t matter to Steve – he owns you after all. In fact, you should thank him for being thoughtful and not waking you up. And a part of him does want to wake you up so he can fuck the living daylights out of you while you whine and cry all sleepily. But there’s just something about you, asleep and innocent, not knowing he’s watching you and touching you.

Fuck, he can’t help but lean down to suck your nipple. You’re practically begging for it, after all! Lying there with your nipples so hard they could cut glass. And you let out the cutest little whimper when his mouth latches onto one of your breasts, almost as if you’re having a dirty dream about him. Steve really hopes you are, because he has sex dreams about you all the time. He has ever since he first saw you.

“God, your tits are so sexy, baby.” He tells you as he squeezes and sucks. And Steve loves sucking your nipples, he could do it for hours if it was feasible. He loves how you card your fingers through his hair (when you’re awake, that is) and press his face more into your breasts while you whine like a baby. Sometimes, he likes to pretend you’re pregnant and he’s sucking your milk as you let him feed from you. God, that would be so fucking sexy – he can’t wait till he knocks you up.

“Mmhmm.” You mumble in your sleep, and Steve smirks against your nipple, licking and biting and grazing his teeth against it, sucking your whole breast into his mouth obscenely, wishing he had set his camera up so he could’ve got all of this on tape. And then he’d make you watch it tomorrow morning and threaten to post it online. (Not that he ever would, but he loves making you cry and beg).

“Daddy knows,” He tells you when he glances up to see you still asleep but your lips have formed the shape of an ‘o’ and there’s a tell-tale furrow between your brow. “Daddy knows what a dirty girl you are, how you like it when I use your body while you sleep.” He switches to your other breast, wanting to bite down hard but knowing you’d wake up if he did. He squeezes and pushes your tits together as he sucks obscenely, his hard dick poking against your leg through his jeans as he hovers over you. Damn, he can’t wait till you’re pregnant and lactating, and your tits would be so fucking huge and heavy when you’d breastfeed him.

“God, you’re teasing me, aren’t you, baby omega?” Steve lets go of your nipple with a pop, admiring his saliva shining all over your bare breasts. “You just had to look all sexy while you slept, didn’t you? It’s all your fault that I have to use you like this, baby. All your fault. But that’s okay, because daddy’s gonna make you feel good too.”

And with that, he continues exploring your body. Stroking and fondling and licking his way down your stomach, making sure to poke his tongue into your belly button. You shuffle a bit at that, but Steve holds your body in place and watches intently as you mumble something unintelligible before relaxing into deep sleep once more.

“Let’s see how wet your little baby pussy is, shall we?” Steve asks, and he can feel his excitement because his blood is rushing straight down to his dick. If he was hard before, he can’t even describe how uncomfortable his boner is now. Quickly, he undoes his fly and pulls his dick out, hissing in relief once his throbbing length bobs up against his abs.

He grabs your thighs, taking a moment to appreciate how soft you feel, before prying your legs apart. And he knows you’re not wearing any panties because he forbade you from doing so in bed. (He needs easy access at night and in the morning when he fucks you). And your bare pussy glistens in the moonlight and fuck, Steve feels like a salivating animal. He gets the sudden feral urge to mount you and fuck you so hard, fill you up over and over again with his seed while you scream for him to stop because he’s being too rough.

Instead, Steve closes his eyes for a second and savours your sweet scent. God, your pussy smells so good. It’s like your scent but amplified. And the best part? You’re completely soaked. He can’t believe just how wet you are, your pussy glistening in the moonlight as you lay all spread out before him. You’ve even dripped down onto his sheets, leaving a damp patch underneath you and Steve is utterly transfixed.

“Naughty little baby, look at the mess you’ve made,” he scolds, giving your thigh a gentle slap. He wants to hit you harder but he knows you’ll wake up if he does. “Look how fucking soaked you are for daddy.” He glances down at his dick which he’s slowly pumping with his other hand. Instinctively, he swipes the bead of precum from the head of his cock and looks up at your face wickedly, “Daddy’s hard for you too, omega.”

He rubs his precum on your lower lip, breath hitching at the sexiness of it all. And you look so pretty and sleepy, immediately licking your lips and moaning softly while he stares at you with wide eyes. “Mmm,” you whimper, and it’s the sexiest little whimper ever. And, as if things couldn’t get any hotter, your lips latch onto his thumb, sucking his digit while Steve swears under his breath.

“You’re a little freak in the sheets even when you’re asleep, aren’t you?” He marvels, letting you suckle his thumb while his dick throbs with need. “God, none of the guys would believe what a slutty little thing you are behind closed doors. Sucking on daddy’s thumb like a little slut? And after I’ve fed you my cum? Fuck, baby, you’re so fucking sexy and you have no fucking idea, do you?”

You don’t answer, of course, but you pout in your sleep when he removes his thumb from your mouth. He gives your cheek a few condescending pats before refocusing on your pussy. Fuck, Steve’s practically salivating at your sweet little cunt all splayed out for him, and you’re none the wiser while you sleep, clutching that damned Steve Junior in your arms.

It doesn’t take long for Steve to dig in like he’s a starved man. His lips immediately latch around your clit, which is puffy and swollen and so cute. He sucks hard, eyes widening when you let out the loudest moan yet. But then you settle back down, still asleep, and Steve continues as if he’s famished and about to start a five-course-meal.

“Your cute little button’s all puffy, baby.” Steve tells you, “I wonder what you’re dreaming about that’s got you all worked up.” He puffs his chest out, “Well, I know it’s me. And tomorrow you’ll act all innocent like you always do, and stutter all cutely as if you aren’t acting like a little whore in heat right now.”

And sure enough, you’re steadily grinding down on Steve’s face, unconscious as ever but he just loves the feel of your wet cunt against his face. Half of him wants to flip both of you over so that you’re sitting on his face, completely smothering him with your sweet folds while he bites and sucks and probes and brings you to one orgasm after another.

Instead, he continues licking you, loving how your thrusts meet his licks, and how your quivering thighs limply wrap around his head. He spits, watching his saliva pool around your engorged clit before he gives it another hearty suck. And fuck, he knows your body so well, he knows you’re about to orgasm because of the way you start panting, and how your knees try to lock around his head.

And Steve pulls away, because you’re his and he’ll decide when (or if) you cum tonight. And he loves the little pout your lips form into, and how you frown in your sleep and clutch Steve Junior harder. “Slutty little omega…” Steve murmurs before trailing sloppy kisses down your thigh. Stroking the smooth skin of your calf before he grabs your ankle, and his gaze shifts and eyes grow darker.

He’s still jacking off with one hand, the other holding your leg as he carefully examines the anklet he’d gifted you a few days ago. It’s a dainty gold chain with charms that spell out his name. Steve Rogers. He’d instructed you to put it on and absolutely never take it off unless he told you to. It’s another reminder that you are completely and irrevocably his, an omega who is claimed property, and his first before anything else.

The anklet is amongst the many different ways he plans to own you. First was his mark on your neck, of course. Then this anklet that spells out his name. And then what? Maybe a necklace with his initials? Or a tattoo above your pussy that firmly states: “S.G.R”? God, his dick twitches at the very thought.

But the anklet looks so dainty around your ankle, and he gets the sudden urge to nuzzle your foot up against his face, the feeling going straight to his dick. He can’t help but admire your pretty feet, how he’d paid for you to get a pedicure and they’d painted your toes a pretty white colour. Fuck, so fucking sexy. He presses a kiss on each toe before his lips trail downwards, leaving wet kisses on the pad of your foot before licking a tantalising stripe down the instep of your heel.

Your entire body jolts, and Steve can practically sense your pussy clenching and releasing more of your wetness to drip down on the sheets below. Your sweet fucking cream staining his sheets because your baby pussy is getting turned on by your alpha kissing your feet. Steve can’t help but smirk, and wonders how he’ll tell you this tomorrow.

He takes his phone out and clicks on the camera, recording while grabbing your other foot and repeating the same actions. Pressing little butterfly kisses on each toe while you wiggle and squirm in your sleep. And then he licks up your foot, gently sucking on your toes while he tries not to groan at how sexy this is.

He lets go with a pop, throwing his phone aside while he smirks down at you, “Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy that, baby. I know you did because I know what a slutty little girl you are.” He strokes your leg, “Don’t worry, daddy filmed it for my private collection. I’m sure you’ll love to see it tomorrow.”

He can just imagine how distraught and shy you’d be when he showed you the video, how you’d beg him to delete it. But he wouldn’t. He has almost hundreds of videos and pictures of you already taking up half the storage on his phone. He’s just so addicted to capturing you on film, addicted to how your naked body moves and responds to him. It’s fascinating, beautiful, so sexy and incredibly hot. And he can’t get enough.

Now, Steve crawls back up your body. And he knows he’s acting like a total creep, and that he could just wake you up and fuck you like how he usually does. But there’s something so vulnerable about you being fast asleep, and he’s nowhere near done playing with you.

You’re on your back, snoring softly into Steve Junior’s fur. But Steve gently manhandles you till you’re facedown, your stomach against the sheets and his favourite part of your body facing him. And he almost salivates at the sight of your bare ass, all cute and round and poking out at him as if you’re teasing him. As if you’re begging to be touched and groped and violated. (Not that it would be a violation, since Steve owns your body and can do with it what he pleases, and when he pleases).

He can’t help but give your ass cheek a firm little slap, watching with baited breath as you mumble something under your breath. Still asleep. He pinches and prods and squeezes to his heart’s desire, like your ass is his own personal toy. Which, in a way, it is. Under the dim moonlight, he can see his teeth-marks on your flesh where he’d bit you the last time he’d spanked you. He just couldn’t help it then, and his chest fills with pride now, hoping the mark will permanently mar your ass and remind you of who you belong to.

“Your sexy little ass is just begging to be fucked, omega.” Steve breathes, imagining how tight and sexy it would feel if he just shoved his dick up your ass. But instead, he leans down to give your smooth skin a light kiss, before turning you onto your back once more. And it’s crazy how deep of a sleeper you are, unperturbed by how he’s playing with your unconscious body which he jacks off.

“Steve…mhm…please…” You breathe softly, and the delicate sound goes straight to his dick. You were begging for his dick, even in your sleep. If that wasn’t the sexiest thing Steve had ever witnessed, he didn’t know what was.

“Oh. So you want me to take advantage of you while you sleep?” He tsks, giving your cheek another condescending pat. “What a naughty little girl you are, but I already knew that. You may be all innocent but that doesn’t mean you’re not a cock-hungry little slut when you’re under me.” He pinches your cheek and chuckles under his breath when you pout.

He carefully straddles your chest, making sure not to crush you with his weight. But now, he’s got his dick right above your sweet, sleeping face. He cant help but rub it against your cheeks and nose and forehead, making sure his scent and his precum is smeared all over your face. And fuck, he’s so ready to just blow his load.

“Slutty little omega…” Steve breathes, tracing the tip of his dick against your soft lips. And, as if on cue and by some fucking miracle, your lips part. Steve can’t believe it, “Good girl. That’s such a good little girl…” He praises you, inserting his tip into your mouth and watching in awe as you suckle it in your sleep.

“Mhm, daddy…” You moan sleepily, like a fucking porn-star or an actress at least. Steve is in complete awe at how whiny and needy you sound and it goes straight to his dick.

“That’s right, baby. Suck daddy’s dick like the obedient little slut you are.” He commands you, wanting to shove his whole length into your mouth but knowing he’d choke you if he did that. Instead, he lets you suck on his tip while he continues to jack off at the sight. With his other hand, he grabs yours and squeezes it, not really knowing why apart from the fact that he felt the need to do it.

He cums fast, and it’s no surprise since he’s been edging himself all this time whilst fondling your body. And he’s so used to cumming down your throat, that it takes all his willpower to pull out before he blows his load all over your face. And fuck, if it isn’t the sexiest thing in the world, your face coated in his cum, and you still don’t wake up.

“Fuckin’ cockslut.” Steve mutters under his breath, stopping to marvel at how beautiful you look before he gathers the cum on your cheek with his finger and slips it into your mouth, smirking when you suck it off obediently. Fuck, even in your sleep you’re obedient. He continues to feed you his cum until your face is somewhat clean (he leaves a bit of residue, something for you to wonder about in the morning). And then he climbs off you, something inside him compelling him to give you a soft kiss on the cheek for being such a good girl for him.

He takes a quick trip to the bathroom to piss and wash off before changing into a pair of sweats and returning. You’re still asleep, of course. It’s slightly alarming, what a deep sleeper you are, but you still look cute as fuck. You’re on his side of the bed, head resting on his pillow, and so he has to gently scoop you up and slip in underneath you before placing you down on his chest and covering the two of you with the heavy comforter.

“Steve? You’re home?” You say sleepily, cuddling up into his chest as his arms wrap around you. Your eyes are still shut and you seem to be half asleep still, and unaware of everything that’s just taken place in the past few minutes, but he can’t help but respond.

“Yeah. The party was boring.”

“Missed you.” You mumble softly into the hardness of his chest, and Steve feels a certain stirring deep down.

He yawns, “Oh yeah? I was only gone for a few hours.”

“Always miss you.”

And then you’re snoring softly once more, and Steve’s left to stare at the ceiling in pitch darkness. You’re still and content, cuddled up on his side and practically on top of him, with Steve Junior in your arms. Sound asleep. And Steve can’t help but hold you just a little bit tighter, and give you a soft kiss on your forehead, before he follows suit.

THE END!

Please do let me know what you think! I know this is a drabble but technically it isn’t bc it’s like 3.9k words!! So please do give feedback and tell me what you think and reblog and all that good stuff! Love you guys and I love writing for this pairing!!! I was hesitant to write more in Steve’s POV but I just focused on his horniness and not on any emotional stuff!!! THANK YOU FOR READING BYE

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #poyt drabble

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seireitonin · 7 months

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What alternative subcultures the Creepypastas would be in!!(pt 1)

This was an ask I accidentally deleted! Oops! I also listen to all the music I put in here! So it’s also a small glimpse into what I listen to! Also as some of you know I’m in the scemo and goth subcultures! But I know a lot about alternative cultures period so this was fun to make!

LJ: VICTORIAN GOTH 100%!! / Victorian Circus Core

I mean he’s literally from that era

The feathered shaw, the black and white color scheme, the black lipstick and guy liner with the pale white face!!

Literally a goth king. That’s an outfit I would definitely see at a goth club!(I’ve been to many)

Another part of goth culture is liking horror/ monsters. Since LJ is a monster he’d fit right in!

He’d be accepted by most goths despite his looks bc goths have morbid dark fashion senses themselves!

So if they saw his swirly cone nose and sharp teeth they’d be like: omg! I love your look!

He’d definitely listen to classical music and other goth music Specifically Switchblade symphony and Cocteau Twins

He definitely listens to old PATD

I can see him wearing other Victorian inspired clothes too!

Like dis:

Jeff: Metalhead/ with 90s emo(for nostalgia.)

I mean look at him

He’d definitely shit on nu metal and still listen to it

The long greasy black hair, not showering, thinking he’s better than everyone else yeah sounds like a metal head to me/ hj

He listens Cattle Decapitation, Peeling Flesh, Suicide Silence, Cannibal Corpse, Avatar and literally anything with machine gun drums

He listens to some 90s emo but will never admit

Definitely wears band shirts especially the ones he got from concerts when he was a teen

He loves a good mosh pit

You know, the ones where you come out all bloody?

Yeah he loves those

He can hurt people in them and it’ll be fine? Sign him up! (Man has no pit manners smh)

Definitely a metal elitist

“You like SOAD? Ugh that not REAL metal”

Stfu Jeff.

Yeah. Metalhead to his core.

LJill (I love her, so underrated)

Victorian goth as well, but she leans more in the gothic Lolita side of it

Wears pretty gothic Lolita dresses with lots of black and white lace, buttons and she’ll have a matching bonnet and parasol to match when she’s feeling extra fancy!

She feels so elegant and feminine when she puts her multiple layers of petticoats on! She wouldn’t be caught dead without them!

Her makeup and lipstick is always perfect.

Her hair is always either perfectly curled or perfectly straightened

The goal is to look as doll like as possible ( also because she is one!)

She listens to music box like music if that makes sense?? For example Swan Lake by Fairy Lullaby or Porcelain Eyes

She, like LJ listens to classical music and goth music

But mainly classical and music box!

Will go to tea parties and knows how to make tea cakes and sandwiches

Just a lady all around!

Jane: Trad Goth/ Casual Goth/ Amy Lee

Since Jane is always on the move and doesn’t really have time to get all dressed up

So she’ll usually be in a simple black dress or black pants and a turtleneck

But when she does get a chance to dress up

She dresses trad goth mixed with Amy Lee

She’ll have her hair long with bangs covering her forehead

Trad goth makeup, but a bit more modern,big eyeliner and arched brows

She’ll be wearing corsets and waist trainers

Long skirts, ripped leggings

High heel platforms

She goes all out and she looks great!

Listens to music like The Cure, Siouxsie and the Banshees, New Years Day and The Birthday Massacre

Can do goth dances very well

God she’s beautiful

Toby: Midwestern Emo/ early 2000s emo/ a tad grunge/ indie

He just looks like one tbh

But seriously he had a hard life and emo music gives him comfort

Toby wears flannel shirts, grandpa sweaters, simple tee shirts and pants that are loose but not too loose

Hiking boots, sneakers

He listens to Chidos, The Front Bottoms, State Champs, Real Friends, Nirvana, Yawning, Hail the Sun, The Used, A Lot Like Birds, Static Dress, Mild High Club and many many more

He can play the guitar, drums and sing pretty well

He needed something to keep him busy while he was homeschooled after all! And it took his mind off of the horrible things he was going through

Plus with him feeling no pain, he could practice his hands bleed so his hands are really calloused

He likes to sit in the woods and just listen to music sometimes

He’s a loner like that

Especially in the fall when the leaves are so pretty

He feels almost peaceful. Almost

EJ: Tbh I can’t put him in a single box I feel like he’d be everything

He’ll listen to whatever whenever

Except religious music it freaks him out

Ya know because of the cult that took his eyes

But I see him liking dark ,dreamy music if that makes sense

His taste actually lines up with Toby’s pretty well

Static dress, MGMT, YKWIM by Yot Club, Homage by the Mild High club, My Bloody Valentine, Grouper

Also anything with sad guitars like wish by sign crushes motorist (Toby likes music like this too)

Sometimes even lo-fi if he has to unwind

Jack wears all black most of the time. Just so he doesn’t look too dirty

Black hoodie, black shirt, black pants, black shoes

He also feels like any other color won’t go with his now grey skin

But yeah EJ is just a dude with a wide music taste

We love that for him

Nina: Obviously Scene+Emo= scemo

Do I even have to explain?

She listens to Pierce the Veil, Sleeping with Sirens, Bring Me the Horizon, Paramore, AFI, FOB, Get Scared, Hey Monday, MCR, Ghosttown, Millionaires, Brokencyde, Medic Driod, Dot Dot Curve, A Skylight Drive, ISMFOF ,everything Toby listens too as well(and many more)

Nina wears either all black with colorful hair or has her signature black and pink with more colorful outfits

Cheeta print, skulls, DIY stuff, band shirts, tube tops, tutus, skinny jeans, brass knuckle necklaces, hoop earrings, black eyeshadow, big teased hair with raccoon tails

Yeah she’s 2000s emo fs

Goes to raves and concerts like crazy

But she’s not opposed to any kind of music and will do goth makeup for fun

And wear Jane’s clothes

She thinks goth is really pretty but it’s just not her

She’ll stick with scemo lol

Jason The Toymaker: Steampunk/ Victorian Circus Core

The copper in his clothes

The bright red hair

The long flowing jacket with intimate details

Yeah he’s definitely steam punk

Im not sure what kind of music steampunks listen to but I’d like to know!

Jason definitely listens to Emilie Autumn and old PATD

BEN: EDM

I mean…it was obvious

Skillix, deadmouse, xxxanteria, Luci4, old Flying Lotus albums, 9lives

He’s literally code so I think he’d like it

Not much else to say here tbh

I’m getting tired so lmk if you want a part 2 lol

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second-axis-point · 1 year

Note

MY GOD OLEASE WRITE MORE BLUSHY JOEL!! I DONT CARE HOW BUT PLEASE WRITE MORE🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

Pairing: Joel Miller x Male!Reader

Warnings: None!

Content: Flustered Blushy Joel, Kisses, Praise

I just saw that post from ihugpedro. Kissing Joel's back. I’m having thoughts. The gears are turning gentlemen. Thanks for the request! 🧡

Scars and All

Your favourite body part of Joel’s, beside the obvious, was his back. You rarely had the pleasure of seeing him shirtless due to the fact that he was so self conscious about his body. You never pushed him about it not wanting him to be uncomfortable around you. But when he did allow you to see, you were all over him. You always did your very best to show him how handsome he was. Today was one of those days.

It was an insanely hot day in the QZ and of course, your shared apartment’s air conditioning had stopped working the day before. You had ditched your usual outfit of flannel and jeans in favour of just a pair of basketball shorts but Joel had held out. He just rolled up his sleeves and laid out on the couch. He was tense and touchy. You asked if he was hot and even offered him a short sleeve shirt but he declined. Simply stating that he’ll power through it. You sigh but relent, walking by him to grab the book you were reading and plopping down in the broken recliner next to him.

You read a few pages but looked up when you heard shuffling from the couch beside you. Joel had sat up and was peeling off the sweaty flannel that he had been adorning since that morning. You averted your eyes so as to not embarrass him but he didn't seem to notice, only tossing the shirt onto the coffee table and flopping back down. He was facing the back of the couch and away from you. You could see the curve of his spine. The definition of his shoulder blades. The slight softness near his hips. The freckles that decorated his skin. The small scars that cover him.

It made your breath hitch and your face heat up. You clear your throat and go back to your book, only pretending to read. You look up every once in a while. You kept up your charade until Joel’s voice cut through the silence.

“I can feel you gawking at me darlin’”

You furrow your brow.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about Miller.”

You close your book and toss it onto the table.

“Mmhm. Whatever you say.”

You get up and sit on the edge of the couch, a hand on his hip. He sits up once again, facing away from you. You scoot up behind him and put a leg on each side. You press a kiss to his neck while you wrap your arms around him.

“It’s way too hot for you to be wrapped around me like this.”

He pokes fun at you. You apologise and start to shuffle back away but you get stopped by Joel grabbing your knee. It was his turn to apologise, telling you that you could get up if you wanted to. You just smile and take your place behind him. You left some space between you so he could back away if he needed to.

You kiss the base of his neck, watching his reaction. You could see the pink rising to his ears. You continue down his spine until you reach his shoulder blades. You rub your fingertips along the line of a particularly deep scar. You then put a hand on his jaw, turning his head towards you so you could kiss the scar on his temple. This made his eyes water a bit but he only leans further into your touch. You kiss every scar you could reach without bending yourself in half. You admire the freckles that spreckle across his back.

“God, you're so pretty.”

You could physically feel the fire light in his veins. Joel’s face flushed and you could feel him practically go limp in your grasp. Your smile brightened.

“You shouldn’t hide underneath all of those layers all the time.”

No response.

“Though I do feel honoured to be the only one you trust with this.”

You say in between kisses.

“Shut up.”

He mumbles into his chest.

“What? I’m being honest.”

He leans back, forcing you down so that you were both laying on your backs with him on top of you.

“You are the most beautiful and charming man I've ever met in my life.”

You felt him heat up further. You were sort of afraid that you would give Joel heatstroke if you kept on. But he flipped over so he had his head, and a hand, on your chest. You ran a hand through his slightly sweaty hair, pulling strands from his forehead, and a hand down the line of his spine. You traced constellations with the freckles on his back and shoulders. Random patterns and games of connect the dot. You felt Joel relax under you.

“Y’know I love when you let me see you.”

He makes a noncommittal noise.

“I love you Joel Miller.”

That made him lift his head up. He met your eyes and gave you a soft smile. A smile that could melt the sun. A smile that could lift your spirits on the very worst of days. His smile.

“I love you too.”

Your lips meet and break apart all too quickly. His head drops to your chest and a sigh escapes him. Joel slept with his shirt off after that day. He was finally comfortable enough to let himself be open around you.

#joel miller x male reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #i love joel miller #male reader #male reader insert #reader insert #x male reader #x reader #tlou #tlou hbo #tlou series #tlou show #pedro pascal #i love pedro pascal #dilf lover #request

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ficmashup · 5 months

Text

Home

Summary: You join TF141 after something happened on your last deployment. They take you in and while it takes some time, you find yourself warming up to them, and them to you. Perhaps especially to the Captain.

A/N: Yes, this is the last chapter, no, it is not the end of G and Price. It is the end of the regular updates. When I write fic, it's a break from my usual writing for my job. So, I can't do both. I'll definitely be posting more stuff though! :) I hope you all have enjoyed!

Warnings: Slight SA mentions if you squint, crass language.

Word Count: 3.2k

Feral Masterlist

It’s such a joy walking around London with Price on my arm as he shows me his favorite places. Each new place lets me see a new side of him, lets me peel back another layer that he doesn’t let everyone see. Not to mention he’s wearing a blue sweater that matches his eyes and I quickly decide that he should wear more sweaters. Especially when it begins to snow while we’re walking through a park and he gently pulls me into his arms with my back pressed against his chest. He’s so warm and fucking cuddly and all I can imagine for a few moments is curling into his lap in front of a crackling fire.

“This is a good look for you.” I say softly as I turn to face him, his arms still around me and my hands curled against his chest to light pat the sweater.

He smiles, raising a brow. “Yeah?”

“Mmhmm. Want to get you a little beanie to match.” I reach up and let my fingers scrape over his beard affectionately while he stares down at me with sparkling eyes.

He hums and leans down to press his lips gently to mine, his arms tightening around me. “I’ll keep that in mind. Think I have a beanie somewhere in my flat.”

I smile against his lips and let myself feel stupidly giddy for a little bit. “You’ll have to wear it for me sometime.”

He chuckles and pulls back, letting my hands fall back down against his chest. “I’ve had women ask me to wear a lot of things, but a beanie is new.”

Curiosity pulls my brows up. “You’re going to have to tell me what you’ve dressed up as now.” He sighs, but there’s a smile on his face as I lean into him to get an answer.

“Ah…well, there’s the uniform, obviously.”

“Obviously.” I repeat, smirking at his playfully scolding look.

“I’ve had requests for a policeman, fireman, real serviceman based, apparently.”

“Can’t say the roles don’t suit you.” I tease and enjoy the slight pink tint to his cheeks as we start walking again and he keeps my arm tucked into the crook of his elbow.

He shrugs a shoulder. “There are definitely worse things.” He states with a shake of his head and I have a sneaking suspicion that he hasn’t told me all the things he’s been asked. But I’ll wait for another day to find out. “What about you?” He asks gently, his voice soft as the snowfall around us in case I don’t want to answer.

I look away, pressing my lips together while I feel my cheeks get a little hot. “I’ve done the usual. Lifeguard, nurse, cat woman, but the most requested has to be Princess Leia and the gold bikini.” My eyes wander back to Price and I can’t help grinning when I catch him nodding. “That something you’ve requested, John?” He clears his throat and his gaze drops to the ground for a few moments.

“I…might not be exempt.” He admits and I can’t hold back a giggle as I lightly squeeze his arm.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” I say and feel his eyes on me as we keep walking through the gathering snow on the ground. Intimacy like that might be far off, but it’s nice to be able to talk about it so openly without feeling pressure or fear. It’s just fun.

* * *

The next day, I take him for breakfast in a favorite diner of mine. We meet there and there’s a wide grin on my face when I see him come in wearing another sweater and a beanie. I slide out of my booth to greet him while he holds his arms out to his sides slightly for appraisal. “I approve. You look very…cozy.” I tell him and give him a fond kiss to his cheek when he’s close enough.

“So do you.” His fingers lightly pull my jacket a little tighter around me and straightens my scarf.

“Think you might’ve realized by now that I run a little cold.” I say with a little tilt of my head and he nods, his eyes looking me over as if he didn’t just see me yesterday. He lets me guide him into the booth, giving me a cute little smile as I sit next to him instead of across from him. An older waitress named Dana comes by immediately.

“Hey, darlin’. What’ll it be for you and your fella?” She asks with her usual charm.

“Coffee for now, thank you.” I nod to her and she gives me a wink, looking Price over curiously before she walks away.

Price rests an elbow on the table and turns towards me slightly. “Come here often?”

I relax back into my seat with a quiet sigh, looking over the little diner and the people milling around it. “This is the place I come to after a hard mission. When I need to remind myself of the good things, when I need to remember what it’s like to not be a soldier.” A soft smile pulls at my lips at the sight of a small family across the diner; two parents trying to feed their toddler and laughing as he smears the food over his face.

“I understand.” John says quietly beside me and I feel his arm slide on top of the booth behind me, letting me settle a bit more into his side. “The park is that place for me. I’ve spent hours sitting on a bench watching people pass by, getting used to the sights and smells of civilian life. Sometimes it takes a few days to decompress.”

My shoulders lax as I shift closer and rest my hand on his knee. “After the worst of it, I spent a week here. I only went home to sleep and even then, only a few hours before I was back here. All I could do was try to be around people and try to remember what life was supposed to be.” I sigh, shifting a bit in place before I feel John’s gentle touch on my arm, his fingers lightly skimming up and down. My head rests back against his shoulder while my thumb draws little circles on his knee. “That’s when the people here really got to know me. Like Dana. Her kindness and tendency to gossip kept me sane.”

“Didn’t take you for a gossip, sugar.” John teases and I smile, turning my head to look at him.

“Hm, I’m not a perpetrator, but I’ll listen.” He chuckles and I love being able to feel the rumble in his chest.

“Thank you for sharing with me.” He says a touch quieter and my hand reaches up to lightly scratch his beard.

“Gladly.” I bathe in his steady attention and the only thing that drags us away is the clink of cups and plates on the table. We both look over as Dana sets our requested coffees in front of us along with three plates of food.

“Coffee, your usual, something for your man, and some extra protein for the both of you. Fill up.” She looks at me pointedly and I give her an easy smile.

“Thank you, Dana.” I say with humor tainting my every word before I gesture to John. “This is John Price.” He offers his hand to her immediately and she takes it, holding on tight with her penetrating gaze trained on him.

“Pleasure to meet you, ma’am.” John says sweetly and Dana raises a brow, then smiles before pulling back and putting a hand on her hip.

“About time you brought a man around, sweetie. And he seems like a good one.” She nods to me while my head ducks, my cheeks hot as she walks away.

Price taps lightly on my arm. “I like her.” He says and I can hear the smile in his voice.

“Mm, well, the feeling is clearly mutual.” My head shakes, but I can’t help but smiling in return as he chuckles. “Hope you don’t mind her just bringing food. It’s happened every time I’ve come here.” Our eyes meet again and the only thing I find in his is amusement and affection.

“Don’t mind a bit. Glad you’ve had someone looking out for you before.” He keeps an arm around me as he looks over the piles of food Dana gave us and I watch him for a moment, taking in the insinuation that he and the boys are here to look after me now.

I lean in and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Good. Now, Dana will expect us to eat all of this, so I hope you’re prepared.” I slide silverware toward him and look away from his fond expression before I melt in my seat.

* * *

It feels stupid that I’m fucking nervous.

I’ve hung around the boys like this before, watched the game and laughed as they argued, but never in someone’s home. And this is the first time we’re all together after the dynamic with Price has changed. I just hope I haven’t…messed anything up somehow.

That’s why I’m standing in front of his door after knocking, my knuckles white from how tightly I’m clinging to the bag over my shoulder. Muffled voices come through the door before it swings open to reveal a grinning Gaz. “Don’t have to knock on days like this, G. Get in here.” He pulls me in and divests me of my bag, setting it on the counter before turning back to me with a grin. My nerves vanish.

“Why are you the one dragging people in when you don’t even live here?” I ask with a small laugh, leaning into him to give him a brief hug. He seems surprised, but quickly embraces me in return.

“Don’t trust Price to step away from the kitchen to answer the door. Barely trust him in the kitchen at all.” He mutters as he leans into me conspiratorially while we glance to John stirring a large pot on the stove.

“But you certainly fucking eat my food.” He returns, glancing over at us while I try to hide my soft smile. He’s in jeans and a navy Henley with the sleeves rolled up. He looks very domestic like this and it suits him. “Welcome, G.”

“Captain.” I greet him before breaking eye contact as I pull my dip from the bag. Gaz instantly peeks over my shoulder and I swat his hand off the bowl. “Dessert is for after you all have stuffed your faces with everything else. Besides, it needs to chill.” He pouts and reaches for it again before I rebuff him with a bump to his hip.

“Come on, G. Let me try it.”

“No.” I slide it into Price’s fridge and shoo Gaz back with a smirk, pressing my back against the doors to keep him from going after it. “Whatever happened to complaining I was bringing a dessert dip in the first place, huh?”

Gaz huffs. “I said I’d try it after that.”

“And I’ll let you. When we’re halfway through the game.” I give him a pointed look so he knows I mean it and the corner of my mouth twitches when I hear Price chuckle. There’s a knock at the door and my head tilts for Gaz to go get it. His eyes roll and he walks away with slumped shoulders. My head shakes as I slide over to Price and he immediately stretches out an arm to make space for me to fold myself into him.

“I like this.” I tug slightly on his shirt, my hand resting on his sternum as I peek into the pot he’s stirring. Chili, by the looks of it. “Looks good on you.”

He stoops and quickly presses a kiss to the corner of my mouth. “Yeah? Well, I like this.” He holds me a little tighter and I let myself grin up at him. “Gonna be hard not reaching for you today.”

“Want to just send the boys home and snuggle on the couch?” I tease, pulling away as I hear the others coming in.

Price chuckles and sighs as I move out of reach. “Don’t tempt me.” He keeps his voice low and I smirk as I pull out the other things I brought while Gaz leads the others inside. It’s easy having everyone together again and I’m glad there’s no strain despite being out of work and having no goal. The new goal is to relax and have fun and we actually do.

I try settle in the chair off to the side while the boys take the couch, but this immediately starts an argument. “G, sit here. Want you to try my dip.” Gaz beckons while Soap frowns.

“Not gonna want yours when she tries mine.” He flick’s Gaz’s ear before Gaz elbows him in the stomach.

“It’s not going to matter if you both get into a brawl and knock the table over.” Simon scolds and tugs both men back by their belts to sit on the couch, sighing heavily as they continue jabbing at each other with grins on their faces. I shake my head and walk back into the kitchen as John spoons chili into bowls.

“The kids are rowdy today.” I comment and grin when he chuckles.

“And this is when they’re on their best behavior.” He returns in the same low tone while I watch him add different toppings to each bowl. Seems like he already knows what each person likes.

I raise a brow. “This is good behavior?”

Price nods with a secret smile. “This effort is for you. Usually they come in with prepackaged everything and one person makes something homemade. This time, they all insisted on making something.” Surprise flits through me as I look over at the boys, softening at the thought that they went through the trouble of making things for me.

“Does that include you?” I peek up at him and try to hide my smirk as he swallows and shrugs a shoulder.

“A little.” He admits and I sway into him while the boys are distracted by getting the tv to the right channel.

“I appreciate that.” It’s actually fucking adorable, but I don’t think those words would be as appreciated. John simply slides a bowl of chili towards me and watches all the little things I add to it, his gaze turning all soft and sweet in the way that makes me melt.

“You may not appreciate it so much when they’re all pushing food on you.” He nudges another bowl towards me. “That’s Simon’s. Good luck.” He winks at me before heading over and I follow with a shake of my head.

I instantly have their attention as I walk over and hand Simon his bowl. “Tell us where you’d like to sit and we’ll move.” He says while Price retreats to the lone chair off to the side with a barely hidden smirk on his face.

“I’ll just sit on the floor—” I blink as each man immediately objects, but Johnny is the one who gets up and gently tugs on my arm to sit me down in his place.

“My mam would have my fuckin’ ears if I let a lady sit on the floor.” He mutters, sitting in the floor beside the arm of the couch while I fold my legs under me to give him space.

“I’ve literally slept in the dirt along with all of you. Sitting on the floor isn’t a big deal.” I remind them, amused and a bit confused at their reactions.

Gaz clicks his tongue. “Not the same. You’re not in uniform.”

“Oh, so I’m a lady when I’m not in uniform?” I tease, happily stirring my chili and holding the warm bowl close in my lap.

Simon reaches over and flicks my ear. “Clearly not.” I show him my middle finger and he smirks. “Just let us try and treat you nice every once and a while, alright? It’s good for us.”

I relax into the couch and relent, nodding. “Nice to see you all can act like gentlemen once and a while anyway.” That’s answered with scoffs and I look at Price who still has that little smirk on his face. Though it’s a little softer than before. The dip argument is eventually settled when I let them make me a plate and they pile it high. All are actually good, though apparently Simon underestimated the amount of spice he added and none of the men can handle it. Which makes it all the more hilarious when I eat a quarter of the bowl while Soap tries to keep up and ends up almost crying.

Honestly, watching them is more fun than watching the game. They groan in unison when there’s a bad play, they shout when the ref makes a bad call, and I can’t help but cheer along with them when their team makes a goal. Gaz eagerly reminds me of my dessert the second halftime hits and I retrieve it, putting it in the middle of the table. It’s basically chocolate whipped cream and I serve it with graham crackers and strawberries. I make Price a small plate and hand it to him in his chair while I wait beside him for the others to try it.

Gaz makes sure he’s first and he dips a strawberry, then shoves the whole thing into his mouth. His eyes go wide and my hand squeezes Price’s shoulder. “Holy shit, that’s good.” My hand laxes even as I swat Price for his silent laugh.

“You’re a good cook. You had nothing to worry about.” He assures me and risks sliding his hand over mine while the others are distracted. Soap and Ghost try it out and they have the same reaction. Half the bowl is gone before I know it, although I have to threaten to take it away when Gaz tries to hog it. I’m too pleased to even tease them about liking it so much.

By the end of the game, Simon is the one who has claimed the bowl and is idly licking the bottom while Soap tries fruitlessly to shove him off the couch. Everyone eventually filters out after helping clean up and I smile when John immediately reaches for me the second that we’re alone. “That was fun.” I murmur against his shoulder as he pulls me down onto the couch next to him and tucks me against his side.

“Mm. Glad we didn’t exhaust you.” He says sounding pretty tired himself.

I smirk and heave a contented breath. “Didn’t say that.” He smiles and I feel the warmth of his hand as he slides it up and down my back.

“You need to leave?” He peeks down at me and I shake my head.

“I can stay a little while longer. If you’ll have me.”

“I’ll happily keep you, sugar.” His other hand slides over my knee to rest in the crease above my calf and I risk letting my legs stretch out a bit. Price makes a deep sound in his chest and pulls me closer so my legs are draped over his lap. His eyes shut as he rests his head back on the couch and I watch him with a little smile before my eyes slowly shut as well. We fall asleep like that and I can’t help thinking that if more of my days are like this one, and like they have been with this team, I think my life would be a happy one. Finally.

Taglist (thank you all for reading and wanting to be tagged, I'll keep tagging you in new stuff with Price and G unless you say otherwise!)

@under-the-dirt @jj-ara33 @sorchateas @cherry-blosom-tree

@thriving-n-jiving @jinxxangel13 @emsstuff1 @missmidnight-writes @thereeallink @younggirlgenius @1wh4re1nova

127 notes · View notes

sminiac · 2 months

Note

Hi! First and foremost, I hope you’ve been doing well. 😊

I’ve been reading your xikers fics for a couple weeks now and love love love your writing! Have mostly stayed in the shadows but I thought It’d be fun to break into the sun a little by sending in a rec and becoming a regular anon 🤭 So, with that being said, what are your thoughts on xikers hyung line asking their s/o for a quickie during a video shoot (and succeeding)??

If possible, I’d love to be ☁️ anon. Take as much time as you need, and if you’re unable to get to this, no worries. Have a beautiful day/night!

💌 — Hi friend, I have been! Hope you’re good too <3 I’m so relieved that you like my work🥹 so happy, so smiley !!! your kindness is very motivating and appreciated <3 I’d love for you to stick around and send more stuff in, ☁️ is all yours :b

Warnings — Smut focused, MDNI.

⋆ K. Minjae

He means business, like- you can tell immediately from the way he walks up to you that he’s wanting something, he has this kind of energy that makes you giddy from how serious he’s being, his directing words short and a biting so him and his members can progress through the shoot faster because it meant that “cut!” Would be shouted and he’d be free to get his hands on you. When he approaches you a little breathless, heavy on his feet with unmoving emotion in his face and vaguely explaining to you through his teeth that he needs help with ‘something’ that you shouldn’t entertain it with anything but an agreement.

If the shoot is going slower than he likes or there’s a significant amount of mistakes and he’s running high on rather negative feelings Minjae doesn’t take it out on you, at least not consciously. He doesn’t speak a whole lot, but when he does it’s mainly praise, how good you’re being, how good you’re making him feel, so wrapped up in his pleasure that he doesn’t realize how you’re struggling to keep yourself steady and quiet, but don’t worry, that’s what he’s for!

Remainder of members under the cut!

⋆ P. Junmin

You’ll know, but he isn’t loud about it. I’d say that he wouldn’t be loud at all, a lot of the time he won’t even so much as vocally mention being needy due to how embarrassing it is to have a hard on when he’s working, and having to hide it. The thing is his mannerisms are so distinct and discernible to your eye that within a few minutes you have him fully peeled back by layer after layer, the fact that you’re so reactive makes him twitch with excitement…. And maybe even a lick of shame seeing the way you dissect him so openly yet so accurately.

Occasionally he likes being degraded into tears by your mean words.. until he’s having to go back to get his makeup touched up and they’re asking about it, other times he’s whimpering the sting off, fighting it to show you how good he can be, it all really depends on the day. Junmin isn’t one to be particularly bratty when in public, he complies and listens very well, so much so that it’s hard to not reward him with something a little extra. He can be kind of loud, but it’s so cute seeing him try to quiet himself :(

⋆ C. Sumin

It’s instinctive almost. Either one of you just knows when the other is feeling even a little needy, which automatically makes its way to the other if it hasn’t already. When your hands aren’t on each other your eyes are, sometimes he even gets a little too deep into the (practically) eye fucking game, silently mouthing to you fleeting explicit words that no one else would be able to pick up on so easily. Quickie’s are a very easy, effortless agreement, one of very few words to cut down on wasting time together and avoiding any possible conflict it could cause. When he wants you there’s no stopping him- like a fixation for a lack of better words, once his heads flicking in the direction of an area you know is secluded the agreement is sealed off.

Acts like the two of you have all the time in the world. Sumin has a habit of needing to see what he does to you, hardly can he ever get off by feeling alone, you’re just so pretty and react to his touches and words in just the right ways. Tells you to “keep your eyes open” when he’s fucking into you, even if you’re balancing on a on a thin edge between delirium and unearthly pleasure, it’s hard to pay his instructions no heed when he looks so perfect, all sweaty and exhausted but still putting in his all to bring you to your peak.

⋆ H. Jinsik

Very communicative, he isn’t the shyest about running back to you during their breaks between sets just to plead with you, when he can’t vocally then he’s shooting you knowing looks, he’s especially bad for doing it while someone on their makeup team is right in front of him. Doesn’t like how easily you brush him and his suggestions off- he’ll whine and complain but that doesn’t stop him from coming back. Coolly drops a “Yeah I just need to talk to y/n for a sec.” then runs away to go annoy you with his near constant stream of “please, please, please!” Has to be shut up when you’re giving him what he wants, sometimes the fact that he has to be quiet slips his mind, other times it’s purposefully disregarded which does him no good in the end.

Always says he can take it, swears he can until your skin makes contact with his and he’s clenching his jaw so hard that it makes his head ache, added the strained little thrashes whilst attempting to remain still and quiet for you, tries his hardest to prove to you that he can handle the pleasure, but it always ends up with him all fucked out and sluggish when they return to filming. With a promise of tending to him properly when the days wrapped up he’s suddenly raring to go!

⋆ C. Hyunwoo

Plays the long game. He wouldn’t specifically mention how horny he is- in fact he tries to be coy about it whilst hoping you’ve maybe already noticed, he even has his moments of passing off indifferent comments like: “what if we had sex here, haha, wouldn’t that be so crazy? Haha.” The longer you play along instead of just pulling him away to get under his clothes the more he becomes frustrated with the lack of attention, your clueless facade being the only reason he’s left exasperated by his futile efforts and notably hot in his intricately pieced together outfit. When Hyunwoo realizes that his feigned passivity doesn’t penetrate your resolve quite the way he intended he’s immediately going with another route, shows off all he is and what he has to offer until you’re the one trying to convince him to run off.

Finally having you to himself goes either one of two ways. He sits back and instructs you to do all the work due to his exhaustion or takes his long pent up arousal out on you completely. He doesn't favour one over the other, he enjoys a healthy mix of both, especially when you're rewarding him for putting his all into recording! But like everyone Hyunwoo has his off days, then is when he just wants to take you the way he wants, and allowing him to do so doesn't disappoint in the slightest. He's incredibly good with being sneaky, knows when to slow his movements, when to cover your mouth, when there's no one around and he's free to do as he wants.

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mylostloversbookmarks · 1 year

Text

Waiting for a Miracle

Characters - Joel Miller x Reader, Ellie Williams

Summary - After being attacked by raiders, you sustain a serious injury - Joel and Ellie do everything they can to save you but will it be enough?

Word Count - 2.5K

Warnings/Tags - 18+ only Minors dni. Typical canon language, Angst, mentions of blood and wounds, swearing, hurt, anxiety, pain, guilt, insecure!Joel, upset!Ellie. Suicide attempt mentioned but not heavily discussed. Im not a medical professional so forgive me if anything is medically inaccurate!

A/N - I hurt myself with this one! Set Post-Outbreak! This is heavily inspired by EP.6 ~ Kin and the beginning of Ep 7 ~ Left Behind, and I thought it would be fun to reverse the rolls on this.

Reblogs, comments and feedback are so welcome and so so appreciated!

If you enjoyed this check out my other works here ~ Masterlist

Divider credit to @saradika

As he walked through the barren wasteland, he could feel the all-too-familiar sense of desolation wash over him. The air is thin and icy, hurting his lungs as he inhales. The only sound that can be heard is the howl of the wind and the crunch of fresh snow under his tired, heavy footsteps.

Moving further down the dirt road, he can see the outline of the dilapidated farm house where he left Ellie watching over you. Its walls crumbled, the roof caved in, the windows shattered, and the once-blue front door hung loosely on its rusted hinges.

Inside, the scene was just as bleak. The remaining furniture was overturned and broken, thanks to raiders tearing their way through any property they came across.

The walls were peeling and covered from floor to ceiling in a thick coat of dirt and grime. A heavy layer of dust had settled over everything in sight.

Moving further into the house, he makes his way to the barricade he had put in place before he left you and Ellie this morning to look for more supplies and any medication he could get his hands on.

"Ellie?" He huffs out to let her know it is him moving the barricade as he leans his weight on one side of the heavy mahogany book shelf, sliding it along the dingy wooden floor to reveal the doorway.

"Joel? Did you find anything?" Ellie's pleading voice is muffled from behind the closed door.

Opening the door, he finds Ellie in the exact spot he had left her several hours before, sitting on her knees beside the filthy matteress he had laid you on what felt like a lifetime ago.

She was hunched over you with an old rag in her hand, mopping up the sweat that was beading on your forehead. He could see the worry etched onto her face as she did everything she could to keep you comfortable. She looks up at him as he enters, her face grim.

"How is she?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. It wasn't that he didn't want to disturb you; he just wasn't sure he could stop his voice from breaking if he spoke any louder.

Ellie shook her head. "She's still unconscious, but I think her fever has gone down a bit and the wound isn't bleeding anymore."

Joel just nods, his eyes fixed on you. Seeing you lying there so helpless and vulnerable, like a ghost of your usual bubbly, sarcastic self, the ever-present crease between your brows was gone; your teeth were no longer fussing at your bottom lip; your smart mouth was no longer calling him out on his bullshit; and your face was pallid and covered in a sheen of sweat.

The sight stirred up a storm of emotions within him that he couldn't quite put a name to. Joel knew that he had always been drawn to you, even before the attack.

Though he would never admit it and always did his best to hide it. He couldn't place what it was about you that brought him out of himself, despite his best efforts to keep you at arm's length.

He had vowed to himself that he would never get attached to anyone again. Not after what happened to Sarah.

It wasn't that he didn't want to care about people, but he has learned that in this world, caring for people only brings pain, and he just didn't know if he could survive another loss.

He almost didn't survive it the first time. The faint scar on his temple is a constant reminder of the events he has drank himself into oblivion over on many occasions in the hopes of scarring them from his memory, but it never works.

Though Ellie had always ribbed him when she caught him watching you from a distance, usually when youd set up camp for the night and you were rolling out your sleeping bag or flipping through one of the books you had picked up on the road.

She would jab him in the ribs with her elblow, uttering "Eh? Eh?" with a wiggle of her fair eyebrows. He normally silences her quickly with a stern warning glance, worried you might overhear her.

Now, though, his feelings were more intense, and he didn't know if it was because he was too tired to keep up the effort to hide them or that the fear of losing you was overpowering every other thought that raced through his head.

His mind was consumed by guilt; he had failed. Again. He had failed Sarah. He had failed Ellie over and over, and now he has failed you. Failed to protect you from the man coming at you from behind because he was too fucking old and deaf to hear him coming.

He couldn't fathom why you both had insisted on staying with him when you had both overheard him speaking to Tommy. It was the first time Joel had opened up in what felt like two decades.

He openly admitted to his brother that he knew he was going to get you both killed. He begged Tommy to take Ellie the rest of the way, and he knew that you wouldn't leave her side.

He remembers standing in the stables thirty minutes after he had intended on leaving, pretending to check over the horses saddle and reins, when Ellie walked in, closely followed by you and Tommy.

He offered you both a choice, insisting you would be better off with Tommy. He didn't even make it through his sentence before Ellie was thrusting her pack into his chest, effectively silencing him.

You had given him a reassuring smile and a small nod as you moved to help Ellie onto the horse. And now here you are in front of him, lying lifeless on a soiled mattress in the dead of winter in the middle of nowhere because of him.

He knelt down beside the mattress and took your hand in his, his thumb rubbing small circles into the clammy back of your hand. Motioning to Ellie to pass him his pack, Joel opens it and takes out the supplies he found on his run.

"I found a drug store; it was mostly picked over, but I found this under one of the cabinates." He explains, lifting out a vile of pennicilin and a syringe that is still safely housed in its unopened sterile packaging. He says a silent prayer of thanks to whatever higher power allowed him to find this.

Ellie just nods, her eyes glued to Joel's hands, watching as he takes hold of your hand, turning it so it is palm-up as he rolls your sleeve up past the crease of your elbow, removing his belt and tightening it around your arm.

Tapping at the viens in the crease of your arm but getting no response, you had lost so much blood from the wound that your viens were refusing to stand to attention.

Joel doesn't want to risk injuring a vein, so he decides to inject you directly into your wound. He removes the belt, throwing it to the side, rolls your sleeve back down, and sets your hand back by your side.

"Ellie, Im going to need your help." He murmurs to her, his voice thick with emotion.

"What do you need me to do?" she implores him.

"I can't find a vein; she's lost too much blood, so I'm going to have to put it into the wound. It's going to be painful, but we don't have another option. I need you to hold her still no matter what, okay?" Joel demanded it as calmly as he could.

"Okay, I can do that," Ellie confided, her voice wobbling with the unshed tears that were threatening to spill over at any moment.

"Hey, she's going to make it; she's going to be okay," Joel promises her, his hand coming up to rest on her cheek, wiping away a tear that was making its way down her cheek.

Ellie just nods in response, her tears flowing freely now. Joel pulls the blanket down and gently rolls your t-shirt up your torso, stopping at your ribcage. Removing the bloodied gauze that was covering the wound just above your left hip.

The wound was deep and had left a jagged, misshaped circle of angry crimson on your otherwise smooth, perfect skin.

He tore open the plastic wrapping and removed the syringe from its packaging, taking a deep breath before inserting the needle into the vein and withdrawing the medication.

"Okay, hold her still," Joel says, his voice unsteady as he positions the needle over your wound, placing his other hand on your cheek and rubbing his thumb back and forth, willing you to hear him before he continues.

"Darlin, I'm sorry. This is going to hurt, okay? But it's going to help, I promise."

Ellie nods towards him, signaling she was ready; she has repositioned herself at your head, her hands resting on your shoulders, and tightens her hold on you as Joel inserts the needle and slowly pushes his thumb down on the plunger.

You flinch and groan in pain, but Ellie holds you steady, tears flowing down her face and leaving little dark spots where they land on the mattress.

Finally, Joel withdraws the needle and sets it back inside the packaging in an attempt to keep it as sterile as possible given the current surroundings.

He grabs another patch of gauze from his pack and presses it against the wound. He pulls your shirt down and lays the blanket back over you, tucking you in as best he can, being careful not to jostle you too much.

"That's it, sweetheart," he whispers, his voice gentle as he strokes your hair. "Now we wait," he sighs, more to himself than anyone else.

Joel and Ellie sit in silence for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts, exchanging worried glances, unsure of what the future holds.

Despite the uncertainty, Joel is determined to do everything he can to keep you safe and help you recover. He holds your hand tightly, and his thumb continues to rub small, reassuring circles into the back of your hand as he silently vows to protect you at all costs.

As the moments tick by, Ellie's anxiety grows with each shallow breath you take. She feels helpless and scared, unsure if you will make it through the night.

The weight of potentially losing another person she cares about is too much, and she breaks. Loud, ragged sobs break through her clenched teeth, shaking her small frame.

Joel's eyes snap up at the sudden sound, and he can feel his heart constricting at the sight of her tears. He releases your hand, pulling her into a tight embrace. He strokes her hair, whispering words of comfort in her ear as she cries into his chest.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, baby girl," Joel murmurs softly. "We're here for her. We're not going to leave her. We're going to get through this together."

Ellie clings to Joel tightly, her body wracked with sobs as she tries to process her emotions. She's scared of losing you and of what will happen if you don't make it. Joel's presence and his words provide some solace, giving her a glimmer of hope that things might be okay.

The three of you stay like that for what feels like hours, huddled together in the dimming light, listening to the sounds of your breathing.

It's a comfort to hear the sound even out ever so slightly and to know that you're fighting to stay alive as hard as they are to keep you with them.

Eventually, Ellie pulls away from him, wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her coat. She looks over at you, still sleeping on the matteress, and takes a deep breath.

"We're going to make it through this, right?" She asks, her voice wavering slightly.

"We are," Joel replies firmly, his gaze locked on you. "I'll do whatever it takes to keep you both safe."

Ellie nods, a look of determination taking over her face. She moves back to your side, taking your hand in hers and squeezing firmly.

"We're here; we're not going anywhere."

The hours passed by slowly; it was well past dark now and getting colder. Looking over at Ellie, Joel can see she is fighting to keep her eyes open.

"You need to get some rest; I'll stay up with her." He murmurs; his tone is serious, and she doesn't bother to argue with him.

"Okay, but you'll wake me if anything changes." Ellie pushed, not moving a muscle until she had his word.

"I will," he whispered solemnly.

Ellie stood and stretched for the first time in hours, grabbing her pack and unrolling her sleeping bag a few feet away from where Joel sat by your mattress.

She was so exhausted from the stress of the current situation that sleep found her quickly. In a matter of minutes, Joel could hear her soft snores.

Joel shifted into a more comfortable position beside you, stretching himself out on the floor so he was lying on his side, his head level with your own.

He reclaimed your hand in his. It was cold and limp, and he couldn't help but think about how much he had taken you for granted.

He has known that you were strong enough to handle anything that came your way and that you didn't need anyone's help. But now, as he looked at your pale face, he realised that it was ridiculous to think that anyone could have made it out of that situation in any other way.

He leans in close, his forehead resting against your hand, his eyes closed. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry. I should have heard him. I should have protected you." His voice broke, and he struggled to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over.

There was a long moment of silence, broken only by your steady breathing, Ellie's snores, and the occasional creak of the old farmhouse. Joel stayed there, still holding your hand, lost in his thoughts. He thought about all the things he wanted to say to you and all the things he wished he had done differently.

He wished he had been more open with you and told you how much you meant to him. He wished he had hugged you and spent more time just being with you.

It was too late for those regrets now. All he could do was sit there, holding your hand or stroking your hair. Willing you to wake up and hoping that somehow, someway, you would pull through. That you would come back to him, and he could make things right.

As he sat watching the steady rise and fall of your chest. Joel knew that nothing would ever be the same again. That he would never be able to erase these memories and that he would always carry this pain with him.

But he also knew that he couldn't give up, that he had to keep fighting and keep pushing forward. For you. For Ellie. For himself.

And so he sat there, stroking your hair and whispering all the things he should have told you before, waiting for a miracle.

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