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mellowswriting · 10 months

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the sweetest dream

pairing || Miguel O’Hara x f!Reader

word count || 1.5k

summary || Miguel comes home to find you sleeping peacefully on the couch. He can’t help himself.

content || SMUT, somnophilia, oral (miguel eats that 🐱 while ur sleeping), rough needy sex, creampie, Miguel is pussy whipped!!!

a/n || saw ATSV twice just for this man

Miguel Masterlist | Masterlist

It’s late when Miguel finally walks through the front door - later than usual. Nothing quite went to plan today. A series of fuck ups left him scouring an alien world for an anomaly that should have been a quick and easy grab. Hours later, he stalks into his apartment with leftover adrenaline still boiling just beneath the surface. The sight of you sprawled out on the couch is the only thing that keeps him from slamming the door behind him.

You must have fallen asleep trying to wait up for him. It eases some of that tension that still plagues him. A sigh heaves through him as he drinks in the image you make. It would make him smile if he wasn’t still so tense. You look so peaceful and soft, only wearing a tank top and panties that leave so much bare skin exposed to his hungry gaze. He missed you. All day, throughout all of the bullshit, all he could do was think about how much easier it would be if you were by his side. His partner in all things.

Miguel’s fingers trail over the curve of your hip contemplatively. He knows he should just carry you to bed, wrap himself around you, and let you both get some rest. He knows that. But the temptation of your body, so soft and sleepy and pliable… he doesn’t know how to resist. His fingertips glide up your inner thigh and you sigh softly, your legs spreading for him almost on instinct.

“Fuck, baby…” Miguel murmurs in a low, aching tone. He braces one knee on the cushion and flattens his hands on each of your thighs, eagerly spreading you further to satiate his growing greed. A broken sound leaves him at the darkened spot on your underwear. He can’t stop himself from rubbing you through the soft cotton and watching that wet spot grow. “Dreamin’ about me, aren’t you?”

You make another soft, sleepy sound that sends arousal pulsing through him. He’s careful as he tugs your underwear down and discards them on the floor. He doesn’t want you waking until you’re desperate enough to whine and tremble for him just how he likes. His fingers stroke your clit in slow circles, marveling at how wet you get from the simplest of his touches. Every little sound and shudder he draws from you melts that tension in his muscles a little more.

Miguel hovers over your prone body with a possessive, aching need to take, take, take. The tank top shreds with a simple swipe of his claw and he can’t help the shiver that rocks through him as he watches the cool air flush across your bare skin. He leans into the impulse and lets his suit disappear, his hand automatically wrapping around his leaking cock. He strokes himself in a loose fist - any more would be too much. He’s already on edge just from the sight of you. He trails sloppy kisses between your breasts, licking and sucking the familiar taste of your skin. Feeling you, tasting you - it calms the crazed beast that has been pacing like a caged animal in his mind all day. His fingers tweak your nipple and you shift, subtly pushing your chest into his touch before settling back down. So needy for him, even in sleep.

It drives him fucking crazy. Miguel shoves himself down the couch with little finesse, too desperate to bury his face between your thighs. A low growl emanates from his chest as he finally gets a taste of you - that addictive taste of sweat and woman that makes him insatiable. His tongue finds your clit with practiced ease, his eyes falling closed as he sucks that sensitive nub.

The sound of you gasping out his name in a sleep-roughened voice is the sweetest sound to ever grace his ears. His hands wrap around your thighs in a possessively tight grip as they begin to quiver. He watches through half-lidded eyes as you emerge from the last dregs of sleep and bloom with pleasure. Pride and love unfurl in his chest, a warm flush of affection that he can never seem to get enough from.

All that exists in this moment is you: your fingers tangled in his hair, your hips rolling into his face, your choked moan as he slips two thick fingers into you without warning. Every other universe, every threat to the canon - none of it fucking matters. Not when he’s got your perfect cunt soaking his face and fluttering around his fingers. This is when he would work you up nice and slow, drawing you so dangerously close to that edge before pulling you back from the precipice just to hear you beg. He would rest his chin on your belly and watch you beg for it with that cocky smirk on his face. But not tonight.

Miguel curls his fingers in time with the messy licking and sucking of his mouth. His free hand massages your thigh as you tremble beneath him. Just when you would expect him to slow down and ease up on you, his pace doubles. You inhale sharply and tighten your grip in his hair. Your sweet little murmurs of fuck, fuck, fuck, only encourage him. Slick clings to his face and runs down to his wrist in wet trails, and Miguel can’t stop himself from grinding his hips into the couch. Just seeing you like this, so close to falling apart for him, is enough to make him damn near come untouched.

You don’t need to say anything for him to know you’re close. Miguel has spent so much time with his hands on your body that he knows every inch by heart. Every swirl of his tongue and stroke of his fingers is perfectly designed to make you fall apart for him. He drags you over the edge with deliberate strokes of his tongue and fingers, and he revels in the moment that you finally break. He can’t imagine a better way to go than being suffocated by your thighs or drowned in your slick.

It isn’t until you push him away, shivering and a little overstimulated, that Miguel actually relents. He eases his fingers out of you and kisses his way up your body, paying special attention to all those little spots that make you yelp so adorably.

“Welcome home, I guess.” You tease in a sleep rough voice.

“Missed you.” He murmurs against your neck where he trails desperate, sloppy kisses. His hips rock into you, his cock rutting hard against your thigh. “Can I? Please, I just - fuck, I need you so bad, baby. Been thinkin’ about this pretty pussy all fuckin’ day…”

“Come on, pretty boy.” You nuzzle your face into his jaw. Finish what you started.”

Miguel takes the allowance and runs with it.

He threads his fingers through yours and pins your hand to the couch as he sinks into your soft, wet cunt. The last thread of his reason fractures at the feeling and his hips snap forward so hard you lurch up the couch. Before he can try to rein himself in, you level him with a look that ignites his very soul. Fire burns in your eyes, pure lust and desire that has your teeth gritting and your hips rolling to meet his. A look that dares him to take, to fuck you like he needs to. He’s never been one to step down from a challenge.

The pace he sets is devastating. Sweat slicks every inch where your bodies meet. His body is pressed so close to yours that he grinds against your clit with every thrust and he can tell how close you are to coming again. You curse him as his cock shoves against something deep and so impossibly good that it hurts. Miguel doesn’t relent. He isn’t much further behind and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t work another orgasm out of his girl before this is over. He shifts the angle of his hips just so and you convulse around the thick of his cock. Your nails dig into the thick muscle of his shoulder and you throw your head back with a broken cry.

His hips slam into you with every growled word: Good. Fucking. Girl. He buries almost painfully deep as pleasure snaps in his belly, molten and all-consuming in the heat of your cunt. Every pulse of his cock sees him melting a little bit more into you, his weight only supported by one teetering elbow braced in the cushion. His hips still jerk, forcing the cutest whimpers out of you. He chases after your sweet little sounds, tongue dipping into your mouth for the slightest taste of that honeyed pleasure. Your fingers thread in his soft curls The kiss is almost… tender. As if he didn’t just fuck the absolute shit out of you.

You hum, a happy little rumble that almost sounds like purring. “Missed you too, Miggy.”

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader smut #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara fanfiction

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2kiran · 3 months

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❝ 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 ❞ ♱ JUJUTSU KAISEN.

⸝⸝ ᵕ̈ ིྀ ‹ 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘, 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐇 𝐇𝐄𝐑, 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐄𝐓. 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐇𝐈𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓 ! ⁺ ˖ pervert! jjk men.

✶ featuring. nanami kento. fushiguro toji. kamo choso.

␥ streaming. angels in tibet by amaarae.

✶ contains. top male reader. self indulgence. taller! reader. boxer stealing. pillow humping. stalking-ish. size kink. obsession. overstimulation. voice kink. dumbification. rough sex. marking.

NANAMI KENTO

let’s be honest. he’d be the most ‘normal one’.

he’s the man you’d least expect to sneak into your room the second you’re gone to inhale the scent of you—that’s coming right off your used boxers.

it’s gross, fucking disgusting, but KENTO can’t help it. fuck, you looked too cute in your sleep. dreaming of who-knows-what, but he knows that it’s far from innocent when he caught the sight of your cum.

god, KENTO sometimes really wishes that he could be the replacement to your underwear. the one you’d cum inside of—yeah, he’s fucked up and apparently it’s your fault.

he has memorized the sound of your footsteps. when he hears you coming (he wished you were), he immediately rushes out without a trace. taking your boxers with him.

but one day, you finally catch him. this time, KENTO won’t run. being away from you is something he can’t dream of.

“kento?” he’s got a hand on his cock and your favorite underwear to his nose. his eyes are wide and a blush is spread across his cheeks, he knows it’s wrong and just not him, yet he cums right when his name slips from your pretty lips.

if you decide to finally fuck him, he’s crumbling. fuck his brains out, his stress melting away the moment your tip breaches his hole. a few thrusts and he already can’t think anymore, only thing inside of his dumb, fucked out brain is the way you hit his prostate just right.

when KENTO cums, he cums hard. he finishes quite quickly, so go easy on him. he can definitely get overstimulated and don’t blame him for becoming a bit of a masochist.

FUSHIGURO TOJI

it’s the small gestures you offer him that drew TOJI to you.

you simply offered to carry one of the items he was carrying and he’s biting the inside of his cheek to weakly prevent his imagination from running wild.

he’s still got a sliver of shame. completely in denial even though there’s a bulge in his pants when you merely stand close to him.

your height makes him feel small. he’s tall himself, but he doesn’t complain when he has to cast his gaze upwards just to look into your eyes.

and he doesn’t complain as you finally bend him over this stupid desk.

“mm..ngggh—yes, oh shit, fuuuuck, b..baby,” he whines, head tuck under his elbow. the edge of the furniture is practically stabbing his stomach, but your cock is filling him up so well that he can barely register the pain digging into his skin. you’re hitting that spot, his eyes rolling back when you bite down on him.

TOJI almost laughs when you think you’ve been too rough. worrying about the marks you’ve left on his scarred body. you’re so cute.

he’s loud when you fuck him. letting you hear every moan as his sounds make you fully aware of how good he’s feeling. the fact that he managed to have your cock inside of him is shocking.

how you treat him as a human, not some machine. you seem like a giant compared to him and yet you’re kind. kinder than anyone he’s ever met and how do you expect that he doesn’t want you to fuck him?

you’re strong. you can obviously carry him against the wall as you bully your dick into him without much of a struggle.

“hey,” TOJI calls, his deep voice poking your dazed out state. “yeah..?” he turns to face you, looking at you dead in the eye. “wanna fuck me against a—” he tries, “no.”

please indulge in him. he might just lose his mind.

KAMO CHOSO

please be kind to him. or don’t. he’s jerking off to you either way.

it’s not his fault he’s obvious. you’re crazy; what do you mean he’s done nothing but stare at you for the past hour?

CHOSO’s so fucking whiny. you might want to tape his mouth shut. don’t ask him why he retreats after an interaction with you, and you better not ask him why his pillow is so wet.

he’s humping his pillow while trying to recreate your voice in his head. you sound so good, the small cracks as you speak to him then trying to cover it up just makes his dick twitch.

not-so proud whimperer. he’s obviously embarrassed. his cock against the plushness of the item can’t compare to your hand. it’s so soft, yet your finger teasing the shaft would be much better.

forgive him as he bashfully crowds you against the wall, begging for you to fuck him because he can’t take it anymore. his fingers can’t do the work for him and he sure ain’t hell using anything or anyone else.

“gaah—hmmf!” CHOSO gasps, hand grasping the mattress beneath him. “please.. harder, i want you haa—h..arder.” he’s pretty when he pleads for you to go harsher, rougher. his hole clenches around you, like it doesn’t want you to pull out.

don’t make fun of him as he’s completely out of it, slightly panicking because he thinks you got him pregnant.

⋆₊+ honorable knight. @Unfunnyjest. @mag-ma. @cloudintheway. masterlist. taglist.

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ellemj · 5 months

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Needs & Wants - Sex Pollen Trope Pt. 4

Bucky Barnes x Reader

**If you haven't read part 1, part 2, or part 3 yet, you should probably head that way first.**

Summary: Round two doesn't go quite as either of you expected.

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, sex pollen (dubcon), possessive!Bucky, near somnophilia, profanity, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Special thanks to @littlemiss-yeehaw for helping with the warnings <3

Feel free to let me know in the comments if this requires more warnings.

Word Count: 2.1k

Author's Note: I wish I could share the filthy mental image that I have for paragraph 10 of this, but sadly, it doesn't exist. How are we feeling here guys? Also, I'm fckin loving responding to you guys. I didn't expect to be so into it and it's just making me wanna take requests after this even more.

You awake suddenly, your eyes fluttering open and straining to adjust to the darkness around you. You’re on your right side, and as your eyes fully adjust, you realize that you’re lying inches away from none other than Bucky fucking Barnes. You’re already feeling overly feverish, with a flu-like body ache wracking your frame, and a pounding headache behind your eyes, but looking at him and remembering what you did earlier tonight adds a wave of nausea to the mix. How the fuck did the two of you let it get that far? You’re acutely aware of how exposed you are, with both of you having fallen asleep on top of the covers, there isn’t a blanket or anything that you can pull over yourself. You roll over as quietly as possible, moving to sit on the side of the bed and then reaching down to the floor and picking up your discarded t-shirt. You pull it over your head before checking your phone on the bedside table. 11:31pm. You’re three and a half hours in now. The pain that Bucky so kindly relieved for you earlier has returned, but it's rapidly worsening. You steal a glance at him over your shoulder. You’ve never seen him sleep before. Any overnight mission you’ve ever been on either involved one of the two of you being on night watch or, luckily, separate bedrooms. He looks peaceful like this, with his signature scowl missing and a serene expression gracing his features. You wonder if he looks like this every night, or only after sex. Something about the thought of him having sex any night other than tonight leaves an unfamiliar pang in your chest. However, you blindly chalk that pang up to being some random side effect caused by the chemical that’s working hard within you.

As you sit there on the side of the bed, the darkness enveloping you like a hug from a close friend, you feel it. That deep, unrelenting need to be touched again, to be fucked until you’re so full that the pain you feel right now melts away as if it never existed in the first place. You’re stronger than this. Just lay back down and go to sleep. Maybe if you dream about sex, your mind can trick your body into thinking it’s gotten what it needs and you can get through this without splintering your partnership any further. You can do this. Laying back on the bed as quietly and gently as humanly possible, you decide within yourself that you don’t need him. You don’t need his hands traveling along your searing skin, simultaneously cooling you down and making you feel impossibly hotter. You don’t need his dirty words filling the space between you and dancing around your mind until all you can think about is letting him take everything from you. And you most definitely don’t need his cock. His cock. Fuck, why did you let that into your head? Now all you can think about is the way he reached so deep inside of you, his girthy length stretching you enough that for a moment, the pain of his cock entering you for the first time was the only pain you felt in your entire body. You catch yourself tilting your head to the side to look at him again. He must’ve gotten up at some point while you were asleep to put his boxers back on, and honestly, fuck him for that. You’re left staring at his abs, at the way they rise up and drop back down so subtly with every breath he takes. Your eyes travel down his vibranium arm. You always liked his arm. Hell, you liked it even when it was silver with that damn red star. But now that it’s black and gold, built for strength and stealth, it looks like it belongs on him. Biting your bottom lip, you let your hand run up the front of your t-shirt, your fingertips deftly sliding beneath the collar of it and pulling his dog tags out so they’re no longer against your skin. You run your finger over the raised letters that spell out his name, wondering how many times he’s done the exact same thing himself. It’s almost calming. Or at least it would be if you weren’t currently replaying the moment that he pulled you in by those same dog tags earlier and fucked you until you couldn’t think straight.

A soft sigh leaves your lips and you know your resolve is crumbling, you know you’re seconds away from doing something you really shouldn’t do. Your thumb traces over the top inscription once more, James B Barnes. Fuck it. You didn’t have a plan when you threw your rational mind out the window, but suddenly you find yourself moving to straddle Bucky on the bed. As soon as your left leg crosses his lap and your drenched pussy is hovering inches above his clothed cock, he begins to stir, a low, pained groan rumbling past his lips. He needs this too, you’re sure of it, and that’s what encourages you to seat yourself on his lap. His eyes fly open now and he looks first at where your bodies are making contact, and then straight up at your flushed face. He’s died and gone to heaven. That’s what’s happened. He’s positive. When he sees you on top of him, wearing only a t-shirt and his dog tags, he has to wonder how yesterday’s mission went so unbelievably right that he ended up here. His hands are quick to find your hips, pushing your t-shirt up a little so he can touch your skin directly. The touch immediately soothes some of your bodily aching and you lean forward, bracing yourself with your hands resting on the bed, on either side of his head. He sucks in a deep breath, trying to gather himself enough to think straight while he keeps his eyes trained on the little silver shapes dangling from your neck right in front of him.

“Did you need something, sweetheart?” Bucky taunts after a few seconds of composing himself beneath you, a smirk playing on his lips. Even barely awake and caught off guard, he’s an ass. You shake your head and grind yourself down on his already hard cock, the friction making you fight back a moan that’s threatening to rise from your throat. He lets out a groan of pleasure now, his grip on your hips tightening instinctively and his eyes closing.

“Shut the fuck up, Barnes. Don’t act like you don’t need this too.” You retort, continuing your actions with your hips as you lower yourself down until your face is only an inch away from his. You let the tip of your nose brush against his and he opens his eyes, staring up at you with an indecipherable look. “Be honest with me, you offered to do this as some kind of heroic act, but you secretly wanted this.” Bucky swallows audibly and you’re starting to get high off of the effect you have on him. Technically, it’s the effect that the chemical is having on him but you let yourself pretend for a moment that it’s all you. As your breath fans across his lips, he feels an unwelcome anger spreading through him. Anger stemming from the fact that you’d tease your lips in front of him like this, dangle something so tempting right in front of his face yet refuse to indulge him.

“Think what you want.” He huffs, his grip on your hips loosening and throwing you off guard momentarily. You freeze on top of him, backing away from his face a bit and trying to gauge his mood. He’s obviously horny enough to fuck, as evidenced by the hard-on that’s currently pressing against your soaked panties. Is he just trying to act like he doesn’t want it because you accused him of wanting it? God, the pounding headache intensifies and you scrunch your eyes shut. You really need to stop thinking.

“What’s got you so pissy?” You ask, sitting back fully on his lap and rubbing your temples with the thumb and middle finger of your right hand in that way that always worries Bucky in the field. You only do it when you’re struggling to make a decision or when you’re severely bothered by something, like bothered to the point of putting a bullet in some shithead’s thigh just to get them to talk. He wasn’t planning to say anything about it, truly. His plan was to fuck you until the only thing you can possibly do is moan his name. But to hell with it. He brings it up anyway.

“You took my cock so well tonight…” His voice is full of lust and has a teasing air to it, setting your nerves on fire. The way he praises you has your thighs clenching at his sides. “But you didn’t say my name one. Fucking. Time.” Ah, there it is. That’s what’s got him so pissy. You’re learning that he has a possessive streak, which isn’t your problem at all considering you’re not someone he can possess. He can get some other girl to moan his name, but you won’t be doing it.

“You didn’t give me any reason to.” You snap back. You’re lying. You know it and he knows it. He fucked you until you saw stars and made him promise not to pull out of you. His name was on the tip of your tongue more than once, but you restrained yourself for reasons he’ll never understand.

“Fine. If that’s the story you want to go with, that I didn’t do shit for you earlier, you can get yourself off.” He says smugly, that damn smirk appearing again as he sits up suddenly, pushing you off of him. You land on the bed next to him as he quickly shoves his boxers down his legs, tossing them on the floor and laying back once again. This time, that little shit lays back and places his hands behind his head in the most relaxed position you’ve ever seen him in. Your eyes are instantly drawn to his cock, where it’s fully erect over his lower stomach and leaking clear drops of precum. Shit. You suck your bottom lip between your teeth and bite down on it a little too hard, nearly drawing blood. You arch a brow at him, wondering why he stripped if he’s going to make you get yourself off. Just like he does in the field, he reads your mind from that one look. “You’re going to get yourself off on my cock…or not at all.”

You can’t say that you’re ashamed at how fast you mounted him and seated yourself down on his cock. You can’t even say that you despised him for making you put on a show for him like that. You lied to him and pretended like he didn’t give you the best sex of your life only an hour ago, so he chose this as your punishment. A punishment that you accepted and used to your advantage, riding the fuck out of his thick cock just like he told you to. At some point, your hands were braced on his chest as you bounced your ass up and down, the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix every time you slid back down. This drew sounds from you that could turn any nightmare of his into a wet dream. Once you were right on the precipice of your second orgasm of the night, he was sure you were going to moan his name. Your head was tilted back, showing off all of that open kissable space along the column of your throat with his silver chain still draped around it, and he swears he saw his name flashing behind your closed eyelids. But you moaned out a simple fuck instead, and then you continued riding him until you both came, hard. For the second time tonight, as he empties his cock into your pretty little cunt, you both feel like you’re floating away on a pain-free cloud of euphoria. He glances over your shoulder a few minutes later when he sees you checking the time on your phone. 12:10 am. If his math is right, he may have as little as four hours left to get you to moan his fucking name.

Little does he know, that as you drift off to sleep next to him, under the covers this time, all you can think about is fully letting yourself go and moaning his name out while he fucks you in every position known to mankind.

Next Part

TAG LIST

@sarcastickiddo @donttalktosposts @marygoddessofmischief @its-daydreamer23 @lightsonnoonehome @gyokujyn @kandis-mom @millercontracting @alicia-bman @littlemiss-yeehaw @sdddoobydoobydoo @a-rotten-chicken-nugget @browneyedgirl22 @charmedbysarge @i-dont-know-how-to-words @maraaaamartinnnn @hensawweston @traderjoesmints @fictionallyunavailable4ever @black-cat-2 @just-act-natural @phoenixstark1708 @ladyvenera @walkingwithoutreason @bubblevicioussss @larajadeschmidt13 @thealloveru2 @unaxv @crist1216 @i-will-always-kneel-for-smut

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #mcu #the winter soldier #winter soldier #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #marvel

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randomshyperson · 7 months

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Shy Girls - Wanda Maximoff Kintober [Blurb] #04

Summary: A study session takes an interesting turn when you accidentally pull your girlfriend's hair.

Warnings: (+18), Bottom!Wanda, hair pulling, new kink discovery, dry humping, dirty talking, implied established relationship | Words: 505

A/N-> Today's heartfelt message is for the plagiarists who are vying for the spot of my thirteenth reason: Every time you steal an artist's work, rarely does something happen, but it still hurts, so just stop. But good reading for those who won't plagiarize people who spent time creating for other people's entertainment - all for free.

General Masterlist | Kinktober Collection | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

It began as a typical make-out session.

Wanda and her innocent flirtations, you with distracted touches that made her warm and tingly.

The history book fell off your lap, and in the empty space, Wanda pressed herself into your hips. She loved the position as much as she loved your arms around her, holding her in place as your mouths moved together.

Wanda tried to press you against the sofa, but you remembered the glass of iced coffee was still in the corner by the cushion, and intending to break the kiss to warn her, you gently tugged on the grip you had on the hair at the nape of her neck.

The sound that escaped her throat was sinful - something between a whimper and a dirty moan, which took you by surprise. Wanda opened her eyes in the same second, her face scarlet.

"Shit, I'm sorry-" She gasped in embarrassment, but you tugged again, taking the opportunity to lower your mouth down her stretched neck and any rational line left her mind. She grew limp in your lap, and the third tug drew another whimper.

You had to break into an aroused chuckle. "How come we've never tried this before?" You whisper, sounding more like a rhetorical question from the state of the girl on your lap, her eyes ajar, her hips restless and her breathing shortened. She looked so ruined already, and you hadn't even done anything yet. “You’ve been hiding things from me. What else do you like, princess?” You kiss her rosy cheeks, and Wanda evades your gaze. Her shyness amuses you. "What's wrong, baby? Don't go shy on me now. Not when you eat me out so good-

She interrupted your teasing with a high-pitched squeak protest, ending your speech with a heated kiss. You grunted in delight, taking control with ease. Wanda grew impatient again, and this time, you grabbed her thighs to fit her on top, her center directly against your tensed muscle. She broke the kiss with a whimper but you pulled her back to lick every corner of her mouth until she melted against you, unable to do anything but grind herself dumbly into your thigh, desperate for relief.

You took advantage of her state to kiss her skin, until you reached her ear and played with the lobe between your teeth. "Pretty girl... don't ever hide from me. I'll do anything you want..." The knot on her belly explodes with no warning, and Wanda is cumming so hard that she has to bite down on your shoulder to muffle her scream before falling limp against you, her body twitching softly. Her ruined, completely drenched panties rubbing your skin are nearly driving you to insanity.

You think she needs a moment, but Wanda, after wrapping her arms around your neck, adjusts herself to whisper in your ear:

"Please, babe." She starts, slowly catching the right rhythm of her soft movements into your lap. "Can I... sit on your face?"

A sigh escapes your lips at the very thought. "That can be arranged." It's your last warning before you lift her onto your lap, intending to take her to the bedroom where she'll be more comfortable. She giggles shyly into your shoulder, her legs wrapped tightly around you the whole way.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #marvel imagines #kinktober 2023

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voidpetrova · 7 months

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best friend's brother — jeremy gilbert x reader

a/n: this is a requested fic, but i lost the inbox that was sent to me :( so here's a big shoutout to the sweetheart that requested a smutty BFB!jeremy fic, bless their heart <3

☄. *. ⋆

content warnings and genre: clichés, mutual pining, jealousy, p in v sex, unprotected sex, size kink, soft sex, slight degradation — smut

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

synopsis: your best friend's brother is the one for you, punk rock drummer and he's 6'2

✧.*

girlhood thrived in its purest form in the quiet, cozy confines of elena gilbert's room. the two of you were ensconced in an atmosphere of comfort, sporting matching pajamas—tank tops and shorts—a testament to the close bond you shared. you'd spent countless nights like this, painting your nails vibrant shades of red and talking about everything and nothing at all, all while the dulcet tones of green day provided the perfect backdrop.

tonight was no exception, and the room was bathed in a soft, warm glow from the fairy lights strung across the walls. elena's laughter filled the air as you swapped stories, occasionally sipping from your martini glasses. ot was a time when worries melted away, and you cherished these moments of simplicity.

just as you were discussing the latest school gossip, the door creaked open, and jeremy gilbert slipped inside. he claimed he was looking for a book, but it was no secret that he often used any excuse to check you out. elena, always the protective older sister, shot him a playful glare. you and jeremy had been seeing each other rather discreetly, but had yet to put a label on whatever it was you were doing. you did your best to hide it from elena, due to the unwanted presence of awkward tension and tense family game nights that were sure to follow.

“jeremy, seriously? can't you see we're having a girls' night?” elena chided, but there was a twinkle of amusement in her eyes. he pretended innocence, his lips curling into a half-smile. “sorry, just passing through. carry on, ladies.”

as he lingered for a moment, elena decided it was the perfect time to drop a little bombshell into your conversation. “oh, by the way, tyler lockwood has been asking about you.” jeremy's scoff was almost immediate, and he couldn't resist adding a snarky comment. “tyler lockwood, really? what's he after now?”

elena raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “jeremy, are you jealous?” she teased. he blushed slightly, but vehemently denied it. “of course not. i just think he's not the right guy for (y/n).”

with a sly grin, elena decided to stir the pot further. “well, (y/n), maybe you should give ty a chance. what do you say?” jeremy excused himself from the room, muttering something about needing to find that book. but before he left, his eyes locked onto you, his jealousy thinly veiled behind a casual facade.

after elena drifted off to sleep during a particularly dramatic scene in twilight, you felt the way your phone buzzed softly. it was a message from jeremy, and the anticipation of sneaking away to his room sent a thrill through you. you tiptoed out of elena's room, careful not to wake her, and made your way to jeremy's. as you entered his room, he greeted you with a sly smile. “so, tyler lockwood, huh? you really considering going out with him?”

you couldn't help but chuckle at his obvious jealousy. “oh, come on, jer. you're not fooling anyone. you're totally jealous.” jeremy feigned innocence once more, but his eyes betrayed him. “me? jealous? please.”

you moved closer, enjoying this playful banter. “i think you're just worried that tyler might steal me away.” he rolled his eyes, a grin tugging at his lips. “as if anyone could.”

you laughed as you playfully poked his chest. “well, maybe you should be more convincing next time.”

jeremy's expression softened, and he pulled you closer. “you know i don't want anyone else. i just can't stand the thought of you with someone like tyler.” you leaned in, brushing your lips against his. “don't worry, jeremy. you're the only one i want.”

your words were convincing—convincing enough for him to finally press his lips against yours, the hours of built-up tension finally exploding. one of his hands dropped to cup your cheek, a subtle way to pull you in closer, your lips melting into one another with a sweet tenderness, while his other freely trailed down your collarbone, tracing the delicate structure of your body, caressing your neck and throat before sweetly dropping down to the valley of your breasts. for a split second, he felt his eyes open. he couldn't control himself, he just had to look at you, admiring the way your tits were peeking from your tank top—the one that was just a bit too tight and a bit too revealing.

a wave of possessiveness crashed over him, even when he shut his eyes once more. he couldn't bear to imagine anybody, let alone tyler lockwood, getting their hands on someone as perfect as you. he couldn't imagine someone admiring you the way he did—not your face, your mannerisms, let alone the way your tits were out for him, or how your ass was arched back, peeking through the incredibly short shorts. it made him furious, and he let you know it.

“you're so fucking perfect,” he murmured as he pulled away from the kiss, the taste of vodka and mint lingering on his tongue as he dropped down to your neck, attacking the sensitive skin with his lips as teeth as he grabbed your hair, pulling you further into his touch. “won't let anyone else have you.” his words made you shiver, practically. your own hands found themselves tangling into the threads of his silky, dark hair as you moaned his name.

he loved every second of it. he knew it the second he saw you, and all he could do was savor you. his lips left brutal marks on your neck, providing you with an excellent problem to deal with before elena woke up. they travelled down to the valley of your breasts, nipping at your tits through the thin material of your top. all the material did was piss him off, arousing growls at the unnecessary barrier of clothing. he practically tore it off, leaving you in nothing but the incredibly slutty shorts. “jer,” you whined, glossy eyes locking with his as he continued to toy with your breasts, fingertips twirling your nipples as he licked at the fat. “elena's gonna kill me.”

he didn't pay much attention to the future consequences of your doing. “it's all good, baby,” he muttered quietly, the rough surface of his tongue drawing circles into your nipple, before sliding down your stomach gracefully. he only stopped to discard his own clothing. “just another reason to get you into my clothes, so what?”

you didn't even have time to laugh, not while he was in front of you, body seeming to have been sculpted by greek gods. you admired his toned muscles, the way his biceps were bigger than your head, and the way his stomach carried muscles that hinted at hard work—blood, sweat, and tears put into transforming his frame. “almost like you're afraid to touch me.” he taunted, but he knew you weren't. not with the ways your hands subconsciously caressed his frame, small hands wrapping around his biceps and tracing his abs. he was so much bigger than you, and he absolutely loved it.

you knew it the minute he started fucking you—he was truly twice your size. with his throbbing, long cock splitting your tiny, tight pussy open, you knew it. he knew the moans that left your mouth, however a turn-on, were also a potential danger, threatening to awaken elena from her peaceful slumber. his hand covered your mouth, your eyes shutting tight at the way he fucked you, nice and hard. you bit down on his hand, similarly to how your pussy clenched his pulsating dick, and he felt as if he were about to lose it.

“so fucking tight,” he attempted to silence his own moans, speaking through pants and gasps as his gaze dropped to your swollen cunt, greedy and desperate as he watched the way it swallowed him whole. it made him want to ruin you in the best way possible. “who's my greedy little girl, huh?” you whined at the pressure, at the way his words sent slick down his shaft, and he damn well noticed it. his free hand dropped to your lower stomach, pressing against it as he fucked himself deeper into your slippery cunt, the juices threatening to slip his dick out of you completely. he watched the way he could practically feel himself in your stomach, your tight little pussy barely taking what he had to give to you. it encouraged him to fuck you as he leaned back, giving you all the more of his cock.

your eyes rolled into the back of your head at the sensation, his balls the only part of him that had yet to slip into you. “too much, jer,” you whined against his palm, but it was too much for him, too. he knew he was close, watching the way your tits bounced with every forceful thrust of his, the way yours thighs shook under his touch, and the way your pussy fluttered, barely allowing him to pull out. he knew he was done for.

in fact, there was no way he was pulling out, but the two of you were too entranced to care about it. his thrusts grew more sloppy and desperate, hips pounding into your pelvis as he chased his own orgasm. his fingers finally left your mouth, your moans under nobody's control but your own as he rubbed at your clit gently, thumbing the wet and sensitive bundle of nerves as he continued to pound into you. you were close, and he knew it.

it was the first time you had came at the same time. you felt the way hot, thick spurts of cum shot into your wet, sweet cunt, and at the same time, your own orgasm washed over you, juices flooding out of you, coating his angry cock as moans left your mouths, the ability to control yourselves long gone. he pressed his forehead onto yours, placing sloppy kisses onto your lips as his cum pooled inside you, unable to slip out of you as his dick softened from inside your pussy. there was truly no way for you to feel empty with jeremy by your side.

“does this mean you won't go out with tyler?” his hands pushed away your loose strands of hair, ones that had been tainted with sweat and saliva. you smiled, small fingers wrapping around his wrists as you placed a sweet kiss to his palm.

“no, actually, my best friend's brother is the one for me.”

#tvd #the vampire diaries #tvd smut #tvd angst #tvd fluff #the vampire diaries smut #the vampire diaries angst #the vampire diaries fluff #jeremy gilbert #jeremy gilbert imagine #jeremy gilbert fluff #jeremy gilbert fanfiction #jeremy gilbert x reader #jeremy gilbert smut #jeremy x reader #jeremy gilbert angst #best friend's brother #bfb #i love jeremy gilbert

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twinkling-moonlillie · 22 days

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Lucifer Morningstar Relationship Headcanons!

A/N: I haven't written for Lucifer before, but this man has my heart and soul so I am going to start! Also, feel free to DM or chat! I love talking and meeting new people, and I need more people to simp with over Lucifer.

Warnings: Minors do not interact, these headcanons include both SFW and NSFW

✶ Lucifer is deeply sentimental, never one to shy away from his feelings. When he is in love, it is all consuming and a driving force for him. He would do anything for those he loves.

✶ He is a gentle lover, a tender lover; a foil to Adam, if you will. When he is in love, he takes it slow, gently drowning you in his affections.

✶ A gift giver? Absolutely! Whether it be handcrafted pieces of art that he made himself or buying you stuff that reminded him of you, he revels in the idea of lavishing you with gifts.

✶ If we are to assume that you are with him after Lilith, expect some slow burn. Not only does Lucifer have to live with the consequences of his decision to bestow free will upon humanity, but the woman he (presumably) loved left him. The guilt he fee is massive, so please just be patient with him. Let him open up to you. Don't make him feel like a burden.

✶ Once he does start to fall in love with you, the first thing he will do is take off his wedding ring. He is a little hesitant, but the way you make him feel...it's refreshing and invigorating.

✶ After years of being too afraid to dream, you rekindled his passion. How could he not fall in love with that?

✶ He loves kissing you - forehead kisses, hand kisses, cheek kisses - he will kiss you until his lips turn violet and melt off.

✶ Although he doesn't acknowledge it often, he has a tendency to be a bit possessive. Not that he is controlling, but more so that he wants to show you off. He wants everyone in hell to know that he pulled the most beautiful and kind person to ever grace the universe.

✶ Some days when he has to go to meetings early in the morning (he is the King after all), he will always make sure to wake you up softly so you know when he is leaving...only to kiss you back to sleep.

✶ Going along with his love of craftsmanship, you become his muse. There will be several different versions of you as a duck, an apple, whatever comes to his mind really.

✶ Lucifer as a whole is a bit eccentric and peculiar, but charming nonetheless. There is a reason why he was able to seduce Lilith and Eve.

✶ If you two pursue a relationship further, you must be able to get along with Charlie. Charlie is Lucifer's pride and joy, and if you can't get along...well Lucifer would choose his baby over you.

✶ But that's alright because Charlie is very easy to get along with!

✶ He frequently uses pet names such as sweetie and sweetheart, as well as angel and apple pie.

✶ He always calls you the apple of his eye.

✶ NOW TO GET ON TO THE SPICY STUFF >:)

✶ Take one look at that man and tell me he ISN'T a service top. You can't! It's impossible (/j).

✶ Lucifer is desperate to prove himself, to prove his worth, even if he knows you love him. That's why he loves servicing you; he will spend hours pulling you further and further into pleasure.

✶ We all have seen episode eight, we know that he will spend hours between your thighs until you are an overstimulated mess. He gets off on the idea of you relying on the pleasure he gives you and no one else.

✶ It's a pride thing.

✶ His favorite position to have you in is missionary. He just loves to hold you close as he slowly enters you, being able to see how you writhe and become a moaning mess for him.

✶ He also loves to hold you close from behind and pound you (spoon fucking). That's mostly reserved for morning sex though.

✶ Again, he is a deeply sentimental and loving man so he prefers to make love to you than fuck you. But he definitely could fuck you if he wanted to.

✶ His wings have a tendency to poof out right as he is on the verge of coming. Sometimes he wraps them around you, sheltering you in a heavenly cloud.

✶ He has a daddy kink and a breeding kink. No, I will not take any arguments against this.

✶ He just desperately wants to claim you fully, and what better way to do that if not through breeding your pretty pussy.

✶ But really, this man is desperately in love with you. Please let him love you <3

#Lucifer #Lucifer x reader #Lucifer morningstar #Hazbin Hotel #Hazbin Hotel Lucifer #Romance #Fluff #Lucifer Morningstar x reader #Service top Lucifer #smut

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absdoll · 3 months

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oh my godddddd i just read your sub!Abby fic and i'm just thinking of a fic where reader 'doms' Abby but really she's just letting you have your fun and we all know who's still in charge :) oh my god i'm losing it please i just know you would make it so hot,,,,,,,, omg i'm giggling and twirling my hair

yesyesyesyesyes ♡ 💗💕 exactly nonnie ! <3

cw: ice play (almost) , dom!abby , daddy kink lol

“hands behind your back.” you sternly say to your blonde girlfriend, who is manspreading in front of you on your shared bed, you stood between her muscular legs.

“yes ma’am” she giggles back at you, totally taking this seriously, and pins her hands to the small of her back.

you roll your eyes at abby and puff out your chest, “what’s funny? don’t make me get rough with you.” you warn her.

“not funny baby, just cute.” she bats her eyes up at you, making your tummy explode with butterflies.

abby is always in charge. sex, plans, grocery lists, cleaning, abby is always the one handling everything. and as much as you love being under her control, today you wanted to give her a chance to relax and be tended to. but it’s abby, and abby won’t let that slide.

you point your finger to her broad chest, “lay back.” abby raises an eyebrow at you, following your orders. “you’re liking this, aren’t you princess?” abby teases.

“yeah, i am, princess” you tease back. abby can admit that she finds it hot how you’re being so demanding and tough, she knows at any second though she can bend you over her knee and you’ll be a whimpering obedient mess like you always are, but she’ll let you have your fun for now.

you pick up a cup that’s to your left, swirling around the melting ice cubes in it. abby’s gaze shifts to your hand, still shaking the cup. “baby…” she nervously breathes.

“i’m gonna take off your pants, okay?” you slide her grey sweatpants down her legs, biting your lip at the sight of her blue boxers, removing those too.

you plop an ice cube in your mouth, but abby abruptly grabs your jaw. “spit it out.” she demands. you shake your head out of her grasp, spitting the ice cube on her chest. “tss-ahh! what the fuck!” she hisses.

“i’m in charge, remember? don’t interrupt me again.” as you reach for the cup, abby has decided she’s had enough of this.

the burly blonde sits up, sliding her boxers back up to her waist. you watch as she blatantly disobeys your orders.

“here’s what gonna happen my sweet girl. you’re gonna lay down, take off those cute little panties, put your hands behind your back, and sit pretty until i tell you you can move, got it?” she hovers over you, awaiting your compliance.

“b-” you try to regain your “control” you had just a minute ago, but abby’s patience is long gone. “nuh uh baby, all i want to hear from that little mouth is yes daddy.”

abby walks out of the room, leaving you to process what’s about to happen. you do as you’re told because abby can get scary when disobeyed. her blue crystal eyes get dark, almost stone grey.

you’re naked, hands flat under your back, thighs pressing together trying to relieve the uncomfortable sensation pooling down there.

the door creaks slightly, abby’s tall build standing in the doorway, arm resting on the frame above her head. “aww good girl.” she smiles at you.

her strap is tucked in the band of her boxers, the black silicone tip peering from the top. “and good girls get rewarded, yeah?” she walks towards you, eyes locked with yours.

“spread your pussy for me doll” she coos, eyes widening at your milky cream dripping down your thigh.

abby slaps your sopping pussy, letting a long string of spit land on your throbbing nub.

“you ready?” she smirks, positioning herself at your center.

💕 @whore4abby @enbesbians @hersweetheart @picklesarenice69 @abbystoy ♡

a/n : HI MY BABIES OH MY GOD I MISSED U ANGELS SO MUCH ♡♡ feels like i haven’t written in years , ik u lot are patiently waiting on dealer!ellie & i promise promise promise she’s coming soon 🎀💕 enjoy this fun req i got awhile ago , sorry it took me so long nonnie !!!

#🧸 bee writes ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚#✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ ˚ ✉️ : reqs #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson fanfic #abby anderson tlou2 #abby the last of us #abby x reader #abby tlou

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mysticdarling · 1 year

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Calling them by their real name - part 2 (spicy)

Characters: venti, xiao, scaramoche (genshin impact!)

Warnings: established relationship, NSFW, breeding., biting, n!pple stimulation, primal, exhibitionism, penetration, smut, no pronouns used for the reader, NO MINORS.

(A/n): hello again, miss me? I apologize for my absence and im happy to announce this long awaited part i turly hope you enjoy your time with my naughty boys~ hope it was worth the long wait! Ps. (I suggest you read the first part first)

Venti

The evening grew darker you didn't know if you should hide or just give up and hope he has Mercy. "Maybe he can only find me where the wind can reach…hmm where could I go without wind?" You talked your thoughts aloud as you walked around, enjoying the scenery of Monstadt. You came across a nice wooded area still feeling the soft Breeze, only getting more anxious by the moment.

You wander a while on the brink of giving up hope before coming across a cave, which seemed to be empty, only harboring a put out campfire. It was a perfect place to hide out for a while so you did. You walked in no breeze to be felt not even a draft.

The night began to brew and since you figured you would be there a while, you lit the fire and sat next to the controlled flames. So what if a Hilichurl was to wonder by, you escaped Barbados!…….so you thought at least.

In a flash of a second a cool gust of wind found its way inside extinguishing the flames.

" oh Windling~ you truly didn't think you could hide from me in my own Nation right? I had fun acting as if I couldn't find you ehe!" You jump just from the sound of his voice, it making your skin crawl.

Venti got into the cave with you without hesitation or invitation taking a bite from an apple he must have picked from a passing tree. "Me hiding?! Psshh noo i was just…Exploring! Yes that"

Venti busted out in laughter "I'm a god remember you cant lie to me windblume, more importantly I'm your boyfriend I would see before it left your tongue, speaking of your tongue I could think of a lot of places I want it to be right now" He flirted his eyes gazing you up and down.

"Venti!? Geez must you be such a pervert" You grumbled pulling his hat down over his face, soon feeling his slender hand grip your wrist. Venti pushed you down cradling the back of your head as he lays you back getting on top of you. " I've been looking forward to this my disciple, I almost immediately wanted to come running after you even before the rich wine reached to my lips" He pulled at the bow around his neck untying it letting his cape fall to the ground. He started at your face cupping it softly before his hands wandered, taking in the beauty of every inch of you. It wasn't long before he had you in nearly nothing at all, the way he looked, touched, made all your insecurities melt away. " Tell me Traveler do you think all of Monstadt could hear you if i make you loud enough?" he slipped off his shorts leaving the stockings, rubbing his rosy tip against your entrance.

You stared up at your bard, it was very clear you weren't speaking to him anymore no, you were talking to a god. "Venti maybe not here what if Adventures walk by or-" Your words were cut short, venti sinking himself inside with no remorse, an unexpected gasp escaping your lips. Your walls swallowed him whole, taking every inch of him as if your body was made for it. "Venti!" You moaned out only to be cut off once again by the bards chuckle.

" Oh windblume I don't want to hear that now call me by my name it sounds so beautiful coming from your lips" He leaned down whispering in your ear, the ends of his braids starting to glow against you. "Say it for me please my beloved" Venti begged, his breath against your neck sending chills down your spine. It was strange it was still your venti but his voice was different, serious, ethereal, too perfect for this world and the whole of tayvat. You felt your face burn with a blush as you turned your face away from the God of freedom "Barbados….my lord… BarbADOS!" It was as if something snapped inside Venti he wanted to defile his disciple. So he did, his hips struck you like lightning noises and moans filling the cave. Even as he was fucking into you Venti Whined in the orgasmic pleasure of your warmth. you couldn't tell which of you were louder.

"That's right, sing for me!" Venti relished in making such a mess out of you

"Mghh! W-Windblume… windblume.. ah! Y/N!!" With every word Venti's voice strained higher. He gripped the back of your thighs folding you to hit the most unholy spots inside you, it nearly made you melt into nothing. Your abdomen tenses reaching the highest point of climax before completely relishing in the finishing feeling. Venti wasn't close behind. He filled your every office before collapsing onto you panting with a huge grin on his face. He laid Apon your chest keeping his seed trapped inside you not daring to pull quite yet. " Now that is how you worship a God ehe"

Xiao

You ran to Liyue as you near the border from the neighboring nation, clearly excited to see your darling yaksha. Once you finally step foot you notice a dark figure, Xiao breathing heavily staring at the ground. This only causes you to hurry to worry filling your face. " Xiao? Is that you are you feeling oka-" Your words stop, in a blur Xiao tackling you in the grass. He stared down at you his fingers digging into the ground next to you. "xiao i-its okay now its me im here" you slowly removed his mask it disapping in your hands. " I'm ok...i didnt harm you did i?" Xiao put a hand against his head, making him shutter. "Y/n is it really you…. I'm not seeing things right…" He places the hand on your cheek feeling the warmth, his thumb pressing your lips, letting out a breath of full relief " i…i missed your visits and company" Before the golden eyed boy could continue you tugged him down by his necklace, pressing your lips against his, the kiss desperate, rough, feeling the shared breaths.

Xiao pulled back only when you both were breathless. " say my name" your lips parted "no my real name" His pleading eyes was enough to make you melt where you laid "Alatus" xiao couldn't hold back his blush, he trailed down your sides gripping the fabric before ripping it open finding you so beautiful exsposed under the moon. Xiao stared at you for reassurance with each touch before grabbing a hold of your wrist dragging your hand against his own chest his heart racing .

With a smile, your hands wandered down hooking a finger on his pants tugging them down honestly surprised at his mere girth, but Xiao didn't leave you much time to think before he folded you. He Threw your leg over his shoulder, dragging his tip against your awaiting hole. "Y/n Please stop me. If you don't stop me now I don't think I'll be able to"

Self-control was leaving his body as he spoke his golden eyes dilated and targeted on you. " I trust you Alatus-" As those words escaped your lips xiao rammed his cock inside. All at once you felt his teeth sinking into the of your shoulder trying to muffling himself. He was a rough lover not that he always meant to be but he couldn't control it, all he does for his life is fight for control so with you tends to accidentally let loose a little too much. His blows were merciless as he pounded into you under the night sky, grunting and panting with every move it all dissolving into pleasure.

"Alatus A..Alatus don't stop p-please don't stop" Xiao rutted inside you gritting his teeth as he came filling your needy hole.

His cock twitched from the over stimulation but not daring to stop. Whining and shuddering with every movement "wouldnt…Gh! Dream of it." He hunched over you not daring to stop his hips for a second, even with his seed pouring out of you from around him.

Xiao was so worked up he was even overstimulating himself refusing to let it end as he jerked and whined his length twitching like crazy inside of you. Beads of sweat dripped down his neck, fucking you so hard his hips slapped against your ass making the most obscene sounds even after you did finish, Xiao still couldn't persuade himself to stop. He needed it, he desperately wanted to fill every orifice of you and by the time he did stop he did fill up every bit of your sore little hole. That night he was especially attentive, carrying you to his room in the inn, wiping you down with a warm rag. He served you for the rest of the night, whatever you may ask he will provide. Xiao made sure to remind you, all you need do is say his name. Even the one that was Heaven to his ears as it escaped your lips.

Scaramoche

Scaramouche grabbed your hand leading you to an old abandoned inazuma house. The house was pretty well preserved, apart from the few leaks in the roof and the smell of dust. "we should rest here. I'll get a fire going" Scara removed his hat a little doll falling out, you stared at it then looked up him "what a cute doll! it looks like you, did you make it?" You ask curious, him clearly trying to brush it off as he picks it up. "It's just a stupid doll. Don't think much of it." He shoved it in his sleeve huffing turning away. "...hey kuni i would love to look after him for you, so he doesn't fall into the fire" He froze for a moment before grabbing the plush doll out of his sleeve placing it in your hands. "You wouldn't have liked me.." He said quietly looking at the doll in your palms.

What?"

"You wouldn't have liked kunikazushi, he was gentle, he dressed in silks and was naive to the world. Me and you both know you like when I'm rough with you" Scara looked up at you from his eyebrows, his head still tilted down.

" I think I would enjoy seeing your soft side, I would love if you showed me"you cupped his face his eyes softening.

"In your dreams." he said in a snarky tone, but with his height you picked him up with ease, setting him on the creaky but stable table. "ah! Hey what the hell do you think you're doing!?" Scaramouche struggled, clearly not used to being lifted off his feet.... by someone else "I want to see you every part of you kunikazushi please show me" you plead really making it hard for the puppet to refuse.

All at once he gripped your hair staring at you with a threatening glare. "y/n if you tell a single soul i swear no one ALIVE will believe you" He glared, you nodding in response.

Scaramouche relaxed becoming completely tender as he brought your hand to his cheek nuzzling against the palm " I love you and I never want you to abandon me even if you grow to hate me please stay by my side" Scaramouche looked away almost embarrassed of himself, all while you melt like putty in his hands. "Could i touch you more y/n? I want to ingrain every inch of you into my mind so I'll know that I met someone as perfect as you" Scara eyes trailed over every inch of you, slowly dragging his hands down to your neck and then shoulders soon replacing his soft cold hands with kisses. He admired your whole body as if it was complex art, all the way down to your toes leaving a soft kiss as a pure act of humble adoration.

He stood a hand clasping your top. " I want to explore more will you let me?" once you gave him the okay he lifted your shirt dragging his soft tongue against the bud of your nipple. He captured it in-between his lips, suckling on as he stared up at you innocently, you so focused on the stimulation you didn't notice the Wanderer seemed to have switched places with you, he sat you displayed on the table. It was clear Scaramouche was starting to get more worked up then he originally meant to. He layed you back his hips so desperate whines escaping his parted lips as he grinded himself against you, not even able to wait until he gets you fully unclothed.

Not like you were complaining, his tent causing enough friction to your sex to make you enjoy it, Hooking a leg around scara waist. Especially with the adorable noises he made causing you to unshamefully move your hips against it only getting more shutters and whines from him.

He gazed down inbeween, a blush filling his face watching you pleasure yourself on his hard on a wet spot soon growing on to his shorts.

"Aww kuni you got yourself dirty its a good thing you don't wear those silks any more" you pull his shorts down with one swift movement his length springing out still painfully hard leaking pathetic amounts of precum.

Scara's embarrassed face only worked you up by the second, you didn't know if he was suppressing it or if he's really good at acting, but his innocence unleashed something deep inside of you.

You guided his cock unable to wait a minute more, his hands covering his face peeking through his fingers as he watches his cock sink inside whining from the tightness that surrounds him making him hunch over the pleasure overwhelming the poor little puppet. "Mm oh kuni does it feel good?" You bit your lip clearly knowing the answer, watching his ears even start to turn red as he nods fast. Scara placed his hands on either side of you moving his hips at a comfortable pace. "i-is this okay y/n im not hurting you am i?" You shake your head in response to wrapped up in the feeling struggling to even keep your eyes from rolling back. Scaramouche continued both of your noises nearly drowning out by each other. He hid himself into your neck, causing him to bury himself into the silky walls with no remorse making sure you feel every inch of his member inside of your needy hole. a gasp escaped your lips unable to even scold him finding his embrace so soft and sweet, even if he's playing it off as a innocent moment with no Sinister ulterior motive.

Scaramouche's breasts were heavy against your neck he couldn't help but rut himself into you barely even letting himself pull out before pushing back, not wanting to leave your warmth for a second.

You were starting to get unbelievably close and you could tell by the way scara shuttered in your arms he wasn't too far behind. You couldn't help it you reached your Edge your abdomen tensing. " s-something's happening i don't think i can stop.. I can't hold on… please take all of it" with one loud yelp he released painting your insides with his cum so sensitive he's teary-eyed. Once you come down from the high you slowly wipe a tear that happened to make it to his cheek smiling like an idiot " you're so cute kunikazushi" As if on cue Scaramouche rolled his eyes burying his face in your chest "oh shut it." He grumbled as you tangle your hand into his hair. " welcome back scara"

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sanemisstalker · 9 months

Text

NSFW sanemi post. obsessed with this stupid gif of him. This turned out way longer than i thought it would. Humiliating.

TW / fem genitals reader / he like, huffs your crotch. I know that turns some people off but he's not right in the head don't worry about it/you beg to get pregnant but like, you're not right in the head either-

Thinking about having a normal day with Sanemi, but something is off. Like- off, off. He's more silent than usual, and somewhat adverse to your touch.

He's not being cruel, he just seems almost confused? He's blinking more than usual, and looks to be almost dissociating during normal investigative tasks.

So okay. Whatever. You figure he needs a cool off day, you stop bothering him. The day winds down, and you and Sanemi are left cleaning up- normal.

Sanemi steps away from the scene, from you and the Kakashi for just a moment. Says he needs to piss. Normally you'd insist he'd get medical help, but the demon was miniscule, really. Maybe he got a new little knick. Nothing insane.

After your checkup, it's been maybe 30 minutes. Nobodies bladder is that big. You start to get a little worried. Not that he wasn't a pillar or whatever the hell, but still. He was your lover, and you liked for him to be in one piece and not wandering the woods at night.

So you venture off in the direction you saw him go- and it doesn't take you very long to find him. And when you do you're floored.

Sanemi has hunkered down at the base of a rather large tree. The first thing you see to indicate it's him is that snow white hair- standing out starch against all the deep green and brown-

And the second thing you note is the quiver of his body, and the almost animalistic speed of his arm, pumping furiously at his cock. Sanemi isn't a moaner by any means, but he is uninhibited now, thinking his voice is lost to the forest. He's all but crying.

One knee is bent up, pushing him against the tree, the other digging into the ground- his legs are open enough for his dick to be on full display. His pants are pulled down just enough to offer his cock freedom.

After a couple of hard jerks, he yanks his hand away to throw his head back. His feet press hard into the ground-

This state isn't enough to stop him from realizing you're there, though. It's seconds after you get within sight of him that Sanemi is scrambling to cover himself. He almost folds up like a lawn chair, but even the graze of his clothed thigh against his tip has him reeling.

'You need to leave.' He huffs,, voice shredded and throat dry.

'You look like you're in pain- are you o-okay?' You whispered.

'No!' He choked out. 'It's been like this all day it hurts so fucking bad.' His eyes looked like saucers. His face was blistering. He didn't add that it got worse everytime you opened your mouth or moved or hell- blinked. He felt vile, really. There wasn't anything particularly special about you today. He was just- terribly down for you.

You carefully made your way over to him.

'Don't look!' He spat. A hand flew up to your eyes instinctively. You immediately began to miss his miserable state, but you continued toward him. 'Y/N I swear to- fuck me- shi-hitt.' He slurred as your hand found the top of his head. His hair was soft, though his head was warm. You could feel a miniscule amount of sweat gathering at the base.

He'd immediately melt into your hand, all pleas of embrassment dissapearing, though the feeling wouldn't just leave. You hear him shuffle.

'You shouldn't have to see me like this-' He'd choke out, not knowing how pretty he looked. His head would crane up to your crotch, burying his face against the fabric. The scent was insanity inducing, driving his nose further up against your clit.

'Fuck' He'd slur 'I'm disgusting- I'm sorry-'

'I'm sorry you're so worked up.' You laughed a bit. 'Is there anything I can do to help?'

'You- fuck- come down here.' He mumbled, tugging at your pants. You knelt down next to him. He'd reach into your pants, not bothering to tug them down. You stayed silent, despite the sudden fingers spreading your slit open.

You could feel him begin to shake again, beating his dick with another low whine.

You'd take it upon yourself to pull your pants down. You'd laugh as his breathe would catch in his throat at the sight.

'Spread your legs.' He'd demand. You'd do as told and the noise he'd let out at the sight of your now sticky thighs and dripping cunt would be carnal. His hand would struggle to stabilize against your hip, fluttering on and off, gripping and grazing. He'd seem afraid to touch you. 'Ah, for me?' He'd croak out, trying to be suave and safe face, but even he released he couldn't manage it.

'Sanemi I want to- I want to open my eyes really bad.'

'You cant- see me like this. I'm a mess, you're not- ngh- ah-- god- missing anything.' He'd slip a finger in you with ease. Adding another a moment later. Despite the painful speed at which he was going with his own cock, Sanemi's hand with you was a much slower speed. Still a little rough and jagged, but more interested in staying inside of you, palm flat against your clit.

You'd bite your lip.

He didn't want you to look because he was sure he must look insane right now. Moreso than usual. He didn't want to blink and miss even a moment of seeing your pussy sucking on his fingers, so he wasn't. A blank, slack jaw stare at your pussy.

He didn't want you to look because he wanted to be rough with his dick. He wanted to edge. To be unsightly when he was done, face and chest red and blotchy- sweat pouring down him. He needed to just fucking let go. The ache had been weighing his limbs down the entire day, begging him to fuck you against anything, and infront of everyone. After killing that demon, it took an incredible show of strength to not bend you down next to the thing and give it something to take to the grave-

Sanemi would never do that- which is why he looked the way he looked right now, because he was really hating how close he got.

He'd finally pull out, taking his hand away from his twitching cock and over to your waist. He lifted you carefully up and over his lap until you were knelt above him.

'Can I see your chest?' He'd ask.

'Can I open my eyes?' You'd return, finally getting huffy. Sanemi practically barked. You could hear his teeth grinding together.

'No!' Sanemi shook his head. 'I'm pathetic right now, Y/N! Why would you possibly want to look at mw while I'm like this?'

'Because it was really hot.' You responded with little hesitation and full desperation, unable to rub your legs together like you really wanted. 'I really want to see you when you come- want to see your pretty face.'

'I'm not pretty.'

'You are!' You'd choke.

'You're pretty, I'm not pretty.' Sanemi mumbled.

'We can both be pretty.' You'd reason. Sanemi would huff. It took a moment of silence, the forest chirping and breathing beneath you all-

'If- if you open your eyes, you can't laugh at me.'

'I won't, I swear.' Sanemi's hand found your collar, and began to slowly unbutton it. Your eyes would flutter open, and you'd just swoon.

His eyes were so lax, so focused on your face and so- drunk. He looked like his breathe was going to stop any second. His chest was as flushed as his face. The fingers that had been inside of you had found their way to his lips.

He looked so fucked.

Your breath would shutter at the sight, your knees would almost give way- begging for his cock inside of you on a purely physical level-

You reached down, pulling his erection up to align with your hole- but Sanemi's hand reached out to grab you by the wrist.

'If I fuck you right now, I'm going to cum in seconds. No.' He choked. 'I'm not going to do that. I can't cum in you, I won't.' He'd fret.

'I want it.' You'd plead. His whole body would faulter. 'I won't get pregnant, I promise. I just- I want your cum in me-' your hand tightened around his cock, and your words rang in his ears.

'No we can't- Oh fuck- oh god-' With your hand still latched around his dick, Sanemi's back shot up and off the tree. His hands would reach up to latch over his lips and prevent the ovary shattering scream he wanted to loose. His eyes would roll back, feet digging into the ground-

His cum would absolutely paint your pussy. It'd splatter against your slit, and then drip back down onto his cock, spiraling down to his balls-

You'd never seen so much cum. It pooled against the waistband of his pants- spilling down his hips.

Sanemi would be left nonverbal after this, hands dropping to his chest to tighten around his haori- He'd look shocked, wide eyed and alert.

And very, very humiliated.

#sanemi x you #sanemi x y/n #sanemi smut #sanemi x reader #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer smut #kny x reader #hashira x reader #hashira smut

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carmyboobear · 2 months

Text

let me love on you

Rating: Explicit (5.4k)

Summary: carmy makes you come once with each: his fingers, his mouth, and then his cock. That's it. That's the summary

Tags: smut, porn with NO PLOT, established relationship, fingering, squirting, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, soft dom carmy, multiple orgasms, slow sex, sprinkling of praise kink, general sappiness

a/n: HIII this is just filth… first time smut posting yay!!! Also fun fact this doc is called “PUSSY EATING CHAMPION!!!!!” hope you enjoy this indulgence!!

You swear to him that you’ve nothing but innocent thoughts when he pulls you into his side. He’s just so warm, heat thrumming under his skin. It would’ve been impossible not to melt into him. Resisting is a futile effort. Besides, it’s not your fault that he has these gentle, long-lashed eyes, and when you stare at them, you have to kiss him. There’s little choice in the matter.

But maybe—just maybe—you’re the one that snakes your hands into his hair. Maybe you’re the one that curls your fingers and tugs, not too gentle, not too rough—just right.

“Missed you today,” he whispers against your lips. He’s starting to press you against the cushions, but you don’t care. You like it when he’s on top of you.

“Saw you this morning,” you tease, but with the way his callused hands are up your shirt, it comes out breathless.

“Yeah,” Carmy acknowledges, “I know. Still.”

“Mm.” You can’t help the smile on your face. “Missed you too,” you admit, and you feel him smile back against your lips.

“Stop smiling so much, I can’t kiss you,” he says through a laugh. He’s pulled back, so you can see the grin still overtaking his face.

“You first,” you challenge, and he shakes his head with another short chuckle, burying his face into the crook of your neck. You laugh, too—you can’t help it, not after hearing his wonderful little laugh. You lean your head against his hair, freshly washed and soft. It smells like his shitty old spice shampoo you’ve been begging for him to replace, but you don’t mind the smell so much. Although today, it smells a little bit like a new conditioner of sorts.

You’re about to ask him if he’s starting using a different conditioner, but then he’s pressing kisses to the side of your neck.

“Wanted you so bad at work today,” he murmurs against your skin. His hands are roaming down now, playing with the edge of your waistband. “Kept thinking about you like this.”

“Like what?” You breathe out. It’s hard to think when he’s sucking hickeys into the tender skin of your throat.

“Like this,” he says again, and his left hand snakes down the front of your pants. You bite your bottom lip as you feel his fingertips grazing over your clothed pussy. “Under me, letting me touch you…”

“Must’ve been distracting,” you say, trying to tease, but it comes out far too breathless to hold any weight.

“So distracting,” he agrees. “Thought about you so much I had to take care of it.”

“You—” You imagine Carmy, locked in the bathroom fisting his cock, and arousal throbs in your gut. “Fuck, really?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles. His cheeks are red, and heat flares through you.

“Touch me,” you plead, suddenly filled with an urgent impatience.

“I’ve got you, baby,” he whispers, dutiful and giving, and his fingers tug your underwear to the side. You let out what feels like a sigh of relief when you feel his fingers pressed against your folds.

He doesn’t waste any time in rubbing your clit in the way he knows you like, a mix of slow circles and side to side. As he is with all things he cares about, he is efficient, excellent, and this is no exception. Your clit quickly hardens under his persistent touch. With each movement of his fingers, he drags little breaths out of you.

“Good girl, getting wet for me,” Carmy murmurs against the tender skin of your neck. Two fingers press against your entrance, dipping into the leaking wetness. He rubs the pads of his fingers there to coax you further open, to get you wetter.

You tuck your face into his neck and wrap your arms over his shoulders. You whimper at the sweet pleasure of his newly slicked fingers drag up your clit. Wetness quickly covers your clit, and it slides easily under his touch, making you shiver.

“Carmy,” you breathe. You’re unraveling, and the both of you know it. His fingers are insistent, taking what it wants from you. God, how you’ve thought about him like this—his broad, tattooed hands shoved down the front of your pants to tease your clit.

“You like this?” He asks, a bit breathless. His breath is warm on your skin. “You like me?”

“Like you so much,” you get out between moans, and between the noise he makes at that and the growing bulge you’re seated on, you suspect that he likes you, too.

“You want my fingers?” His voice is low, close in your ear. His lips move from your neck to the side of your head, pressing little kisses there. Each kiss makes you shiver.

“I do, I want it,” you murmur, hips bucking when his fingers touch your clit in that way he knows makes you react.

“Then look at me,” he says, and it’s a command.

Reluctantly, you untuck your warm face from his neck. His blue are dark, his pupils blown with arousal, looking at you with a deep hunger. His gaze is strong, unwavering in the way it grabs you. He has always been rather beautiful, you think, but he especially is now with his curly hair falling into his face, expression hungry.

You feel his roaming fingers sliding between your folds before nudging at your entrance. Your entrance pulses once, needy, and he makes a low, pleased noise.

“Keep your eyes on me,” he says quietly, drinking in your expression, and he pushes his two fingers into you.

“A-Ah—“ You bite back a moan, digging your teeth into your lower lip. Your eyes flicker away nervously, but return with Carmy’s soft words.

“Eyes on me,” he commands, gentle yet insistent. You struggle to with the way his two wide fingers gradually stretch you, and with how they just keep going. You guess they’re longer than yours.

“C-Carm,” you whimper, looking at his shakily through wet eyelashes. “Please.”

He smiles at you then, a warm and tender thing. It’s so full of affection it almost makes you want to look away, but you don’t, basking in it.

“Perfect,” he murmurs, and he presses his lips against yours.

His mouth is urgent, almost as if he’s trying to map the feeling of your mouth with his. You reciprocate, rolling your tongue against his, and that’s when you feel him go down to the last knuckle. His fingers are nestled into you now, and your hole sucks at him once, twice.

You moan quietly against his lips, your hole suckling at his fingers nestled deep inside you. He makes a delighted noise of pleasure back, curling his fingers in you and gently stroking your walls. The pads of his fingers drag slowly across your squishy, wet walls, feeling slowly.

But then his thumb is at your clit, rubbing it from side to side, and you feel as if you’re finally unraveling.

“God, fuck,” you gasp against his lips, desperate for a chance to catch your breath, but you can’t. Not with the way he’s thumbing at your clit and rutting his deep fingers in you.

“Good girl, taking me so well,” he pants against your lips. “You’re so hot inside.” You let out a quiet, needy whine at his words, unable to say anything with the feeling of his fingers deep inside you.

Carmy keeps you here for a while, just fingering you and thumbing at your clit. Your composure is deteriorating quickly, unable to do anything but pant into his mouth. His fingers are so curious, so dutiful in the way he rubs you everywhere. You’re oozing onto his fingers, dripping down them and smearing onto his palm.

“I wann’ come, Carm, please,” you beg, pulling back from his hungry kisses to hide your face again in his neck. “Feels good, s-so close.”

“I’ve got you, baby, I got you,” he whispers. “But I wanna see your face when you cum.”

You clench around his fingers. Hard.

“O-Okay,” you stammer, reluctantly leaning back. His half-lidded eyes are taking you in, so hungry it’s making you want to look away, but another part of you drinks his expression in with delight.

“You like the sound of that?” His fingers are moving again, and this time, they’re quick, brutal. In and out, in and out, they thrust, and the way his fingers slide against your walls is making you tremble.

“Yeah,” you moan, because that’s all you can manage to get out.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” Carmy says softly, like it’s a travesty, like it’s a gift from above. His other hand cradles your face, thumb stroking your cheek. It’s an unbearably soft gesture, especially compared to the other one pounding your pussy. The repetitive sound of his insistent fingers is wet and slick. The volume of it would typically embarrass you, but so you’re close you don’t even care.

“Oh god, I’m, I’m gonn’ come,” you gasp, legs beginning to tremble. The pressure, the tension coiling in your stomach is so tight it’s almost scary. Your legs tremble around him.

“I’ve got you,” he says again, as if sending your twinge of nerves. “I’m right here, so come on my fingers for me, okay?”

“Fuck me, Carmy, I—I—“ you moan, eyes momentarily squeezing shut as the heat crescendos, rising and rising and his fingers thrusting and rubbing and thrusting until—

“That’s it, baby,” he whispers, and you’re gushing all over his fingers.

You shakily keep your blurry vision on him, tears beading in the corner of your eyes as you come. Your whole body seizes with the effort, your hole sucking tight at his fingers which stroke you through your clenching orgasm. He leaves no part of you untouched, clit throbbing under his circling thumb. Carmy is nothing but dedicated and thorough.

Through the midst of your peaking orgasm, a sudden surge of wetness gushes out of you.

“Shit,” you gasp, a mixture of panic and arousal. You want to say something apologetic with the way you’re drenching his hand, but the pleasure is so immense you can’t form the words.

Surprise flashes across his face, and his hand in your pants pauses. But the pause is brief, and then he keeps going, going, going.

“Fuck, does it feel that good, beautiful?” Carmy murmurs. He’s looking at you like he wants to eat you, and maybe he does. You wouldn’t mind.

“Mhm,” you affirm distantly, gradually riding the slowing waves of your pleasure. You’re shameless rutting into his hand, rubbing your pussy raw against his skin. The squirting was intense but brief, now tapering off into little spurts in his palm.

He holds you there for a little while longer, stretching out your orgasm like a melty string of caramel. You’re panting, eyes fluttered shut as you catch your breath. He keeps his two fingers inside you until you stop squeezing around him.

“Sorry for the mess,” you mumble, exhausted from how hard you came. You’re coming back to reality now, and you’re registering how wet the front of your jeans feel. “Did I get anything on the couch?”

“Don’t apologize. It was hot,” Carmy replies, and his honesty makes your chest feel warm. He looks down, checking the couch cushions before continuing. “I don’t see anything. I think your jeans got the worst of it.”

“No, I think that would go to your hand,” you laugh, a bit strangled with embarrassment. He just grins, unabashed in his pleased, almost smug expression.

“Guess we’ll see.” That’s when you feel him removing his fingers, sliding out of you and your pants. He wasn’t wrong—you definitely do see it.

You’ve spent more time than you’d like to admit staring at his hands. His handsome hands, littered with faint burns and scars from over the years. One of your favorite things about his hands, though, is his tattoos.

A tattoo of a knife stabbing a hand sits on the back of his right hand, and SOU is written on his first three fingers on his left hand. Those are the letters you see staring back at you, glistening under your fluids that coat his fingers.

“Um,” you start, but you don’t say anything else. Your ears feel hot. Your throat feels dry. Carmy’s staring at his fingers, and they’re shiny under the light. Very shiny. You can see thin rivulets trailing down his forearm, too. Fuck.

Without saying anything, his tongue drags up the fluid dripping down his arm.

He does this once, twice before licking up his palm. His tongue travels up his fingers before sucking them into his mouth, eyes fluttered shut like it’s honey. You can’t look away, not even when he opens his eyes again, staring right back as you as he sucks your come off his fingers.

When he drags his fingers out with a quiet pop, they’re completely clean.

“Can I take your pants off?” Carmy asks first before you can say anything. His voice is a little hoarse.

“Please,” you whisper. You can feel yourself getting hot again.

You both struggle with your wet jeans, the fabric uncooperative, but he manages to get it off of you. Your underwear is completely soaked, and it’s almost laughable how easily he yanks it off. He throws it somewhere to be found later.

“Mm, you look so fucking good,” Carmy mumbles, eyes glued to your pussy, and you swear you can feel the weight of his gaze on you. His praise sends heat up your chest and across your face, ending at the tips of your ears.

“You gonn’ fuck me?” You ask, spreading your legs wide for him. He makes a noise of approval.

“Yeah,” he says, “but not yet.”

You’re confused, but only for a moment. It clicks together when he gets off the couch and moves to the floor to sit. Then, he hooks his arms under your legs and hoists them over his shoulders. With your thighs bracketing his head, his hands grip them to spread them again.

“Oh,” you whisper, realizing.

“After you come again on my mouth, I’ll fuck you,” Carmy promises. Seeing him between your legs like this is already reigniting your arousal. His curls are soft against your skin, a little ticklish even. He presses a kiss to your inner thigh.

“But what about you?” You ask. You bring your hand to his cheek, and his eyes flutter shut as he leans into your touch. “I wanna make you feel good too…”

“It makes me feel good to make you feel good, baby,” Carmy murmurs against your palm. “Don’t worry about me. I can’t wait to be inside you, but I need to taste your pussy first. Okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” you repeat quickly. The heat in your stomach is growing, squirming as his eyes stare at you.

“Good girl,” he praises lowly, licking his lips, and you have to hold back a groan. The things this man does to you.

“You really made a mess of yourself, y’know.” He drags his tongue up your inner thigh, licking up the slick that dripped down from earlier. “Drenched my fuckin’ hand.”

“I, I don’t remember the last time I’ve, uh, squirted like that,” you mumble back, because you don’t know what else to say. His tongue rolls over the junction where your inner thigh meets your crotch, and you can’t think.

“Wanna make you do it again,” he confesses like a dark secret. Sucks a mark on the soft inside of your thigh. “Think you could squirt on my cock?”

“Fuck, I don’t know,” you groan, flustered by his words. He won’t stop kissing you down there. “M-Maybe?”

“I wanna see it, not just feel it.” You feel his hot breath ghost over your pussy, and you look down at him to see his eyes glued to it. “Need to see your pussy come next time, see how wet it can get.”

“Carmy, oh my god,” you groan, embarrassment white hot on your cheeks. “Sh, shut up…”

“I can do that,” he murmurs, devilish, and he sucks your cunt into his mouth.

“Ah,” you gasp, sounding like the air got punched out of you. The sight of his lips molded to the curve of your pussy is way too much, so much that you have to look away. It’s enough to feel the wet heat of his mouth enveloping you.

He sucks, and then licks you as he keeps you in his mouth. You throw your head back, panting as his tongue weaves between your folds, pulling the remnants of your previous orgasm into his mouth. He’s also making these little pleased noises, like he’s delighted with the way you taste.

He pulls back, mouth separating from your cunt with a wet noise. Pants over your pussy as you feel his fingers part your folds. Goes back in, nose buried in your pussy as his tongue buries itself in your hole.

“Came so much for me,” he pants, retreating for just a second before going back in. His tongue is shameless, stubborn in the way it pushes into your hole. It’s times like this you remember how strangely long his tongue is. It swirls at your rim, pulling in and out to drag your slick out of you.

“You’re gonn’ kill me, Carm,” you whine, a little delirious with how his tongue feels inside of you. He doesn’t quite respond, just making a low noise of approval you can feel against your pussy.

One way to get him to shut up is to get him between your legs. He acts starved when he gets like this, focused on nothing else except your pussy like a goddamn animal. You’ve never had anyone go down on you like he does. He takes and takes and takes, licking endlessly into you.

There’s a part of you that notes the feeling of wetness dripping out of you, but you’re not sure if it’s come or spit. Probably both, but you quickly forget about it. Carmy sucks once on your hole, an incredibly loud and messy noise, and does it again when he hears you whine.

“You taste so fucking good baby, you got no idea,” Carmy moans, sounding almost dizzy. He’s come up for air, hot breath ghosting over the skin of your thighs. You feel a little dizzy too, but in a different way. “You should see yourself. God.” He drags a finger through your thick wetness.

“I should be the one saying that,” you argue breathily, an incredibly strangled sound. His pretty pink lips are glossed heavily with slick. It doesn’t just coat his mouth, instead also smeared on nearly the entire lower half of his face. Messy eater, you think hazily to yourself, the thought so potent you feel yourself throb.

Carmy doesn’t respond, just smiles knowingly and gets back to work.

He keeps you on the edge for a while, purposefully avoiding your clit to lap at you, slurp at your entrance. He goes from sealing his mouth where you’re leaking to languidly rolling his tongue against your pussy, squishing your folds under it. You’re really, really not sure how much more you can take of this. You swear you’re about to explode, between the wet sounds of his mouth on your pussy or his little, pleased moans. He can’t keep doing this, keeping you right at the edge like this—

Suddenly, his lips wrap gently around your swollen clit, and then, he sucks.

You can’t really register the noise that rips itself from your throat, but you do grip his hair with a desperate urgency, all in a plea to keep him there. He lets out a sharp moan when your fingers curl into his hair, and it vibrates deliciously around your clit.

“Please, please,” you beg, even though his mouth remains at your clit, sucking dutifully. You’re not sure what you’re exactly asking for, but you know you need him.

Carmy’s face is pressed deep into your pussy. With his lips sucking at the base of your clit, your folds bracket his chin. You’re throbbing, and you wonder if he can feel it. You’re close, very close.

He definitely knows this, because he sucks your clit in a brutal, quick rhythm, and you’re done for.

There’s the sound of someone crying, and it takes a second too long for you to realize that that’s coming out of your mouth. Tears bead at the corner of your eyes, squeezed shut at the force of your orgasm. When Carmy feels you throb in his mouth, the suction grows gentle. He pulls back, but only for a second. He guides you, and he keeps your clit suckled carefully between his lips.

Liquid drips out of you again, trailing out of your hole. With Carmy’s face still shoved into you pussy like this, it dribbles down his chin, down the front of his shirt. This time, you don’t care, fists tight in his hair to keep him there. As your grip tightens, you distantly register Carmy sharply moaning, almost as if he’s coming himself. You didn’t think you saw him touching himself, but maybe he was, with the way he sounds.

You lay there with your eyes closed a little bit, drifting with the feeling. Carmy’s finally peeled his mouth off of you, leaving you to throb and drip in the open air. He always does this to you, that bastard. Wrings you out, sucks your soul out of your pussy and leaves you withered on the sheets. He’s always had an appetite, to say the least.

When you open your eyes and look down, you see Carmy resting his cheek on your inner thigh. He meets your gaze, and his cheeks have a beautiful flush to them.

“I saw it, this time,” he says.

“Huh?” You react, instinctively, and then you remember. The sight of fluid dripping off Carmy’s chin, his tank top so drenched its transparent on his chest—it makes you realize. It must show in your face, because Carmy’s grinning, a small, yet proud thing. His lips are even more glossy than before. “Stop that,” you protest, but there’s no heat behind it. You’re too tired.

“Stop what?” He responds, playful. He’s still smiling, though. He knows, so you roll your eyes.

“Were you touching yourself?” You ask instead.

“No,” he admits, and your eyebrows raise. “Got close, though.”

“Mm.” Wow, you think. The thought of him almost coming, completely untouched, gasping against your spasming cunt—it renders you speechless. “Let me see you,” you say, finally. “I need a minute. But…in the mean time…”

And because he’s Carmy, of course he gets a little embarrassed. You recognize it in the way he looks to the side, at you, and then to the side again before unbuttoning his jeans.

If you hadn’t just came so hard you saw the pearly gates, the sight of him would’ve gotten you wet. Not to say that you don’t still enjoy it, though. As Carmy shimmies out of his jeans, you zone in on the wet spot on the front of his boxers. His boxers are so tented it looks painful.

Well, maybe not quite as painful as how hard he is.

It’s as if you had him in your mouth. His tip is flushed, reddened by nothing except eating you out. It’s dribbling with pre-come. You think you’re drooling. You’ve seen longer cocks, but you haven’t seen any quite as thick. His cock is heavy, and your gaze traces the vein on the underside of it.

“I want you,” you say, before he can protest. He maintains this bad habit of dealing with his arousal himself after he’s wrung you out. You understand why—he can’t bear to ask much of you, not when he gets self-conscious. But, shit, you want him. You always want him, even if he doesn’t want himself.

“You’re sure?” he asks, positioning himself above you. He’s so careful, even when you can hear the thinly-veiled arousal just behind it.

“I’ll need a minute or two,” you elaborate, “but. Yeah.” You smile at him then, and although you mean for it to be more sweet, it’s definitely more salacious. “I want you to fuck me,” you whisper, spreading your legs for him. You snake a hand down to your pussy and spread your lips wide. You clench your hole, too, because you know he’s looking.

Carmy doesn’t respond for a moment. His eyes are elsewhere, and it makes your smile widen.

“Goddamn,” he mutters, mostly to himself. His eyes look back up towards you, blue reflected against brown. “You’re just…”

“Just what?” You run your tongue over your lips.

“You’re way too fuckin’ hot,” he mumbles, like it’s sacrilege. He positions himself over you then, cock resting against the warmth of your pussy. He feels heavy against you and is equally as hot. His eyes flutter shut for a moment, soaking you in. “Shit…”

“Not yet,” you remind him in a whisper. His eyes flutter open again, half-lidded. “Kiss me for a bit instead?”

You barely even had to ask.

Because he’s so lovely, he kisses you. His lips are hot and wet from eating you out, and you taste yourself on him. Your head is distant after coming viciously twice in a row, and you ride the wave of Carmy’s tongue in your mouth, slow and sweet. And all the while, his hard cock rests heavy against the folds of your hot pussy. It feels like a dream.

You can tell the arousal is getting to his head. Rather, it’s already gotten to his head. His kisses started sweet, slow, but he’s getting hungrier, unable to resist.

“I’m not gonna last,” he admits, panting against your lips. You pull back to stare into his dark eyes, pupils blown with arousal.

“That’s okay, I just wanna make you feel good.” You laugh breathlessly. You love seeing him all worked up like this. “Fuck me, Carmy… I’m ready for you.”

“When you say it like that…” Carmy’s amused smile poorly veils his arousal.

He rubs his flushed head at your sensitive clit, grinding on it, tapping it. You keen, thighs twitching from the little jolts of pleasure. Then he drags himself down, tip of his cock nestled as your entrance, and he pushes in.

The both of you let out a shaky exhale when the head pops in. Carmy’s panting into the crook of your neck, breaths hot and heavy.

“Takin’ me so well,” he murmurs. “Fuckin’...shit…” He pushes in further, dragging slowly along your tight, wet walls.

“Carmy,” you moan sweetly, arms linked around his neck to keep him close. “You feel so good inside me…” You let out a muffled moan into his shoulder when he bottoms out. He fills you up just right, the perfect amount of stretch…

“Dirty girl, fuckin’ squeezing around me like this…” He’s stopped moving, stilling in your contracting pussy. There’s beads of sweat in his hairline. “Fffuck…”

“Don’t you wanna come?” You whisper, and you grind down on his cock, making him moan into your neck. You trail a hand down to trace your stretched lips molded to the shape of his cock. Wetness gathers on your fingertips, and you drag it up to your exposed clit. It’s all so slippery, nothing left untouched.

“Not yet…I wanna at least fuck you a little.” This makes the both of you laugh.

“Just use me, Carm,” you plead. “However you want.”

This makes Carmy untuck his face from your neck. His expression is nigh indescribable, a mix of animalistic, horny, and eager.

“However I want?” He echoes back, quietly.

“However you want,” you repeat, and warmth swells in your gut. As if you couldn’t be more turned on than you already are.

You’re not sure what you expect from him after that. Part of you expects him to start ramming into you, skin slapping hard against skin. To fuck you so hard that you can barely breathe. To grab at your hips to slam you back down when he fucks forward. It…wouldn’t be the first time.

So, you admit that when he does the opposite, you’re a bit surprised.

He drags his cock out slowly, so slowly. It’s almost torture, the way he’s pulling back inch by inch. It forces you to feel every ridge of his cock, every vein and curve against the length of your walls. Your eyes flutter shut, heat surging through you in a new way.

“Oh my god,” you mumble under your breath. His head is just about to pop out when he pushes back in again, slowly…

“You’re perfect,” Carmy moans. “Fuck, you’re so good…” His cock resheathes itself in you gradually. The slowness of it forces you to really feel how he carefully fills you up to the brim, really feeling the shape of his swollen head inside of you…

After he’s done this two more times, that’s when you realize exactly what he’s doing.

He’s luxuriating in the feeling of you, taking in everything you can give him. He’s indulging in you like a sin. He’s taking his time to relish in every sensation, every little feeling, every little part of you that he loves. There’s no rush to orgasm, no hurry to finish, only taking the time to let the pleasure permeate fully through the both of you.

Emotion swells in your chest.

“I love you, Carmy,” you moan all of a sudden. This slow fucking has you feeling a whole new type of crazy. You’ve never felt his cock like this before.

“Baby,” he whispers. “I love you so much.” Fuck, he’s pushing in again. You just can’t catch a break.

“Kiss me,” you whimper, and he obliges immediately.

Although you wanted to kiss him, you’re having a time of it. With this slow fucking, the pleasure’s creeping up on you, and you can’t stop moaning against his lips. He patiently kisses you through it, although it helps that he’s somewhat the same.

“I’m close,” Carmy moans, verging on a whine. “Can’t take much more…”

“I, I can’t either,” you stutter. The sneaking pleasure is swelling inside of you like a balloon, straining, about to burst. His even thrusts have become hastier, a bit jagged, but still slow.

“Wanna feel you come on my cock,” he pleads. He’s pressing kisses to the corner of your mouth, your neck. “Then I’ll come inside you…please, baby…”

His fingers are messily rubbing your slippery clit from side to side, and that’s all that it takes for you to come.

“I—I—oh my god—” You let out a high-pitched, wrecked noise as you come tight around his cock, pussy pulsing. Sharp pleasure tightens your body like a bow. You throw your head back, mouth open in a silent scream. He slowly fucks your contracting pussy through it, but not for long.

“Fucking—shit—” Carmy moans beautifully as he comes, face tucked into your neck. His ragged moans are nestled right next to your ear, letting you hear every little breath and whine he fails to swallow. You feel him pulse inside you, filling you…

After three destructive orgasms, you’re on the verge of falling asleep on the couch. It doesn’t matter that Carmy’s softened cock is still inside of you, either. You’re exhausted.

“Baby,” Carmy murmurs. He’s spooning you, holding you in his arms. He kisses the side of your face, lips dragging tiredly. “We gotta get up.”

“Mmgh,” you grunt back. You’ve both been cuddling on the couch for a while now, but you still don’t wanna get up.

“Baby,” he tries again, amusement coloring his voice.

“How about you come three times and see how you feel after that,” you mumble, and that gets a laugh out of him.

“That’s fair.” He moves carefully, gently slipping of you. The change in pressure makes you sigh, especially feeling him drip out of you. “C’mon. I’ll carry you to the bathroom.”

“Okay,” you mumble, begrudgingly moving to sit up. He scoops you, one hand behind your back and the other tucked behind your knees. The angle makes his cum drip out of you more. You squeeze your hand between your legs, sealing your hand against your pussy.

“Maybe next time we’ll make it four,” he teases, and you slap a hand against his chest, making him smile mischievously.

“Maybe next time I’ll wreck you instead,” you say, leaning your head against his chest. You hear his low laugh right against your ear, and you smile.

I love him, you think again, and you close your eyes.

#Carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #Carmen berzatto x reader #the bear #the bear fx #carmy berzatto x you #Carmen berzatto x you #the bear fanfiction #the bear Hulu #carmy x reader #my writing #my fics #carmy #reader #my smut

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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year

Text

König w/ his S/O during a Panic Attack

Warnings: Mentions of panic attacks, in-depth detail of panic attack, angst, comfort, FLUFF, König being the most considerate man on the planet, no pronouns used for Reader except for 'You', words of affirmation, pet names

König was...confused upon your initial request for him to lay atop you like a weighted blanket.

Why would you want a 250 lbs man to effectively crush you? Especially at a time like this??

König has social anxiety, so panic and anxiety attacks are not unknown to him.

Far from it.

They were the only entity to keep him company whenever he left the house, whenever he thought about how he'd spoken to people that day (if at all), whenever he just existed.

That was before he met you, though.

You'd staved away and starved that monster, keeping it on a short leash and choking it whenever it tried to run away with König.

And he knew that the least you deserved was for him to do the same for you.

He just thought that maybe there was a safer way to go about it?

He was conscious of his mammoth proportions, and how little you were compared to him. He just didn't want to hurt you any more than you already were.

"I just- I--" your words were muddled, you shook your hands as if trying to dry them, trying to shake off the leech-like pinches of anxiety prickling your skin.

Your breathing was short, shallow, your own unique vision of the end of your world, social, physical and mental, playing through your head, shooting a reactor's worth of adrenaline straight into your chest.

You felt as if you were going to pass out and so took a hesitant seat on the edge of your shared bed, knee bouncing the second it was able to.

Tears pricked your throat and eyes, warning you.

You sniffed, trying to keep them at bay, tying to keep the dam within from overflowing.

"I just need this right now." You looked up at him, eyes pleading. "Please."

König needed no more persuasion after that.

Though, he did have some questions.

"Won't I hurt you?" he asked, voice gentle, coaxing you out from the hole you'd dug yourself into. He stroked your hair, handling you like the delicacy you were.

You gave a weak, watery smile, a laugh wanting to break its way through.

"No, no you won't," you promised. You cupped König's cheek with a shaking hand. "I trust you."

König's heart jumped, melted.

He positioned himself above you as you lay flat on your back, caging you. Or protecting you from all that could hurt you.

Slowly, carefully, very carefully, he lowered himself onto you, making sure to avoid any sensitive areas.

His chest was pressed against yours, his legs either side of yours, and his bulking arms lay at either side of your head.

He nestled his face into the crook of your neck, nuzzling you.

You could both feel your heart pounding against his chest, and having something there to almost absorb the anxiety pulsing from it made you feel calmer.

You tried grounding yourself, focusing only on König's warmth encompassing you, his steady breathing against your slim, shaking breaths.

It felt as if he were projecting his calmness onto you, into you. Healing you from the inside out.

"My sweet (Y/N)," König whispered, "Whatever has you in its dastardly grip will have to answer to me before it can reach you."

You knew he was serious; there was nothing König wouldn't or couldn't do for you.

Your happiness was his top and only priority, as his had been yours.

"I'll always be here for you. Even if you feel alone and scared, I'll be there, one way or another."

His voice was soft, silken. He swaddled you in it, cradling you in a rhythm that soothed you.

You burrowed further into König, wanting to be as close to him as physically possible (as if you weren't already).

The longer you remained attached, the less frequent the the tightness in your chest contracted, the slower your breathing became.

You began to feel drowsy, the post-panic attack high - the relief of the ordeal becoming only a memory - tailing off into a lulling low.

König could sense you were growing tired, you nuzzling your nose into his neck, a habit you'd formed when you were ready for bed.

"Thank you, König," you said between sleep.

König couldn't see your face, but he knew you were smiling, he could feel it brushing against his skin.

He smiled, too, and brushed his fingers across your scalp.

"Anything for you, maus." His voice was low. He wasn't long for the world of the conscious, either.

"You will never come to harm as long as I breathe," he whispered. He could tell by your breathing that you were just entering the realms of sleep.

He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

"I promise you that."

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

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#konig mw2 #konig x reader #konig headcanons #konig call of duty #cod konig #konig x you #konig modern warfare #konig #könig x reader #hurt/comfort #angst #angst with a happy ending #fluff #mw2 fanfic #mw2 x reader #cod x reader #mw2 headcanons #mw2 x you

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spacesurfing · 1 year

Note

Oh no I’m sorry I didn’t know you weren’t taking requests but I cannot get jealous/possessive ani smut

I love his metal hand ahhh

It's alright, I don't mind writing for Ani! I love it too.

•--•

Where Are Your Manners?

Anakin Skywalker x Reader Smut

Summary: You found your way into trouble, loving Anakin. And the trouble you found tonight came in the form of his endless need to know you were only his.

Warnings: NSFW, mentioned long hair!reader, jealous!Anakin, choking, degrading, possessive!Anakin, maybe exhibitionism???, p in v, no protection whatsoever!!

•--•

Maybe you could blame Senator Amidala for this. You could blame the generous Senator and her even more generous friend, Senator Organa, for where you were. Well, where you were and where you were going to be in a half-an-hour.

You had objected at first, telling her that you were grateful for the kind offer, but Senator Amidala didn't seem to take no-thank-yous when it came to you.

"And come in gala-appropriate clothing. I will send you a dress, I just ask that you unwind from your duties for an evening. It's the least I can do after you've helped me for so long."

You tried to deny her offer, but when she slipped in the deal for a suit to be sent to you as well, perfectly fit for a certain tall Jedi, you let her offer break down the walls of your mind. You knew you shouldn't indulge in something like that, but it seems like you couldn't push her outstretched hand back. Especially when she cleared it with the council.

That's why you were here, in a dress that pressed snug to your skin, beautiful blue satin like the color of Anakin's lightsaber. And through his eyes, you were equally as hot as the blade. He had changed in the bedroom of your shared apartment, a crisp suit that reflected your dress.

Anakin knocked at the bathroom door respectively, waiting for your quiet "come in" before pushing the door open. You fixed the wide straps on your shoulders, moving them to where you thought they flattered your shoulders most before connecting eyes with your boyfriend. Though, it wasn't as much connecting as it was watching him internally outline your figure. Maybe it was the squeeze along your waist to the tops of your hips that made his gaze start to burn, or it was the way that the dress stopped accentuating your figure, flowing off the curve of your hips and pooling at the ground.

You watched his chest rise and fall, a stray hair slipping onto his forehead and tickling the scar over his eyebrow.

"Maker, how did I ever get so lucky," the jedi muttered, finally walking towards you with a plod to his steps, as if he was walking through swamp muck trying to get to you.

You smiled, cheeks heating with how his words nipped at your neck, the same as he wanted to so badly.

Anakin's hands fell to your waist, laying on a gentle touch that didn't seem like it came from him. Everything with Anakin was rough, he liked to admire through his fingertips, enjoying pulling and pushing. But in quiet moment, tender moment like these, he touched you with a softness that left you swooning for weeks.

You watched him through the reflection of your bodies, and he soon looked up to meet your stare. You smiled bashfully, his blue eyes melting you as he let his hands roam to your stomach, pulling you softly into him in Anakin fashion.

"I don't think I want to leave," Anakin spoke, moving your hair to kiss the skin behind your ear softly, "I think we should just stay here."

You teased, "Now why should we do that, Ani? You know, Senator Amidala has gone a long way convincing me to attend, it would be rude to bail so suddenly."

Anakin's forehead pressed to the side of your temple, lips close enough to your ears to head the tiniest of breaths from him.

"You look too good to leave. Just wanna bend you over and fuck the daylights out of you," he whispered, words sinking to the pit of your stomach and heating your core.

He bucked his hips into your ass, revealing the way his pants tented. You let out a choked whine, one of your hands grasping his wrist in an attempt to ground yourself. He had you wrapped around him finger and he knew it. But this wasn't an event that was easy to skip. Senator Amidala was looking forward to you being there. You and Anakin both.

"We can't Ani, I told her we would be there."

He sighed, thumb rubbing over the center of your stomach as if he was silently trying to coax you into changing your mind, being all soft with you.

You reached a hand up and raked fingers through his hair. He lifted his head from yours and glanced over the way he hovered above you, eyes shooting to his hands that touched you in such an intimate way, the way your lips were slightly parted as you focused your attention on him.

He was drowning in it.

"Alright, let's get out of here."

Anakin was being a gentleman tonight, opening the speeder door for you, resting his hand on your thigh as he drove. And he was patient this time, not reckless. Though his pinky was the opposite. It snuck into the slit on the left side of your dress.

He rested the tip of it as far up your inner thigh as he could, squeezing any moment that he thought was appropriate, sneaking looks at your face to catch the knitting of your eyebrows as you tried to ignore what he was doing to you.

The event already seemed too long and you hadn't even arrived. You thought this was gonna be easier with Anakin here, giving you someone you could genuinely talk to and trust with information. But it looked like Anakin was the worst person you could have every brought. You never realized how one dress could make him insatiable.

You adjusted your collar as you reached the large building, the inside of it decorated for the gala. You didn't know what the event was for, charity or just a general celebration of some sort, but Anakin walked in his usual arrogant way - strong steps, straight posture, broad shoulders. Maybe the image of him in a luxury attire made you a little hot as well, you were never used to seeing your boyfriend so put-together.

You stopped at small tables, checking out the forms that they held and listened to the kind person running them. It seemed to be a charity event, making you feel a little more comfortable with your surroundings.

There was soft music playing through speakers mounted on the ceilings and everyone wore smiles - some fake, but a lot being real, like they were happier than ever just to get word of their organization out into Coruscant.

Anakin must've relaxed, mirroring your mood as his back slouched the slightest bit and his steps became softer. His hand brushed your arm, knuckles trailing at the fabric that covered your hot skin. He wanted this to be a night where he could touch you freely, rest his hand on your lower back, kiss your hairline when he thought you looked too gorgeous not to touch.

But Anakin had his ways, ways to make you squirm, and ways to make you smile.

He snuck you around corners into empty halls of the building, pressing you tightly against him in a sloppy kiss, letting you feel the swell of him against his pants. And when the gala just started to get fogged over by his lips, you pushed at his chest in an attempt to keep you grounded. To keep you from getting caught with Anakin's crotch jutting against your hip.

"Ani, we can't," you whispered against his lips, the same ones that never seemed to get enough of your own, constantly hungry for the taste and the texture.

He huffed, nose pressing to your cheek as he rested against your face, "Yes we can, they won't even notice. C'mon angel.."

You pulled your face from his, making him only chase you. Pressing your hand to the base of your neck, your fingers pushes against the adam's apple in his throat till he finally pulled back enough to look at you.

For the first time in what felt like hours his hips weren't flush to yours and you could finally get a look at him, lips kissed a deep red and his hair tangled at the sides. His blazer was falling off one shoulder and eyes had a salacious look in them. Anakin had many times looked at you like this and begged with his body more than his words like this, but it just felt different now. He'd never tried this in public, certainly not with the clones around the corner or another Jedi within a good distance of you. Tonight felt risky, like he was throwing himself at the danger of being caught. You couldn't imagine what this would've been like if it were an important mission. Anakin had a brain to use, but right now, it was practically mush.

"We'll just get through this gala, alright. We can go talk to Senator Amidala and try to leave earlier than we planned to. We can't ditch this now though, she wants us here Ani."

Telling the tall Jedi no was like kicking a puppy, you adored him to the point where you almost broke at the look of him. His bottom lip pushed up at his top one, pouting at you, trying to change your mind. It hurt you to stand your ground to the man you loved. But it would hurt you more to break the Senator's promise.

Anakin leaned forward, trying to capture your lips again, but you held his shoulders.

"One more," he insisted, eyebrows shifting to a pouty expression. That, you couldn't say no to.

You let him kiss you, his lips moving eagerly with your own. But you stopped, breaking it before it got any more out of hand. You smiled with a softness, adjusting his appearance carefully, doing nothing about the way his red lips shined except pecking them to pull a smile to his face. There was absolutely no way you would be able to hide the way he looked at you and the swoon he held in his eyes, but you had hope nobody would catch it.

You expected the gala to be a lot more crowded than it was. Sure, there were people galore, but it was manageable for you and Anakin. Not many senators noticed you, out of your Jedi attire and prettied up for the event. You would never be able to disguise yourself enough to slip past Senator Amidala though - she could, and did, pick you out of a crowd.

"Jedi Knight L/n, it's great to see you," Amidala said, giving you a real smile before acknowledging Anakin with a "And Anakin."

You bowed your head, shaking her free hand that didn't hold a wine glass, "It's wonderful to see you finally, we're so glad we came."

By we, you meant you were. You were sure to assume Anakin wished to be... other places.

"I'm glad. There was actually something I have been meaning to speak to you both about," she started, swirling the small amount of liquid left in her wine glass around. Her eyes shifted down to it for a moment before coming back to yours, "I spoke to Master Yoda about it briefly, but I requested to speak to you both before I went through with it."

You nodded along, racking your brain for memories of missions that were to come for you. You surely were assigned to another, having been home in Coruscant for a week so far. When you let yourself take in the Senator, she looked almost nervous in a way, pinky finger tapping against the stem of the glass.

"Senator, excuse me for cutting you off, but would you like a refill? You look a bit shaken," you asked, giving her a look of understanding.

She nodded, "Please, this topic makes my stomach uneasy."

You smiled politely before taking her glass and weaving through he crowd with ease. You briefly wondered what would make someone like her nervous. But it made you nervous knowing the answer. It was no doubt that people wanted her blood spilled, and it seemed any time that her presence as a brave figure wavered was when there was a threat concerning her day to day life. One that told her that her actions were not the only things that people wanted stop. Her breathing was something that was desired to be halted as well.

You felt your shoulder catch on the shoulder of someone else in the vast crowd, making you stumble shortly. An arm reached out to your inner-elbow, catching you and keeping you on your feet.

Lifting your head to look at the kind soul to catch you, you connected eyes with a Kiffarian man, barely shorter than Anakin and decorated with gold tattoos. He wore a suit, short, curly hair sitting on top of his head and piercing grey eyes. He looked to be someone of importance, and you could tell why he would be. As his lips curled into a smile, you knew his exact job in politics. A gorgeous poster-boy.

"My apologies, I should have been paying attention to where I was walking," he said, only adding onto your assumption through his buttery accent.

You smiled, laughing softly, "It's alright, I was paying attention as much as you were."

He tilted his head down, hiding his teeth between a close-lipped smile. His hand stayed on you, letting off a bit of pressure through the apology, "I don't think we've ever met, can I have your name?"

"Y/n, what's yours?"

He huffed, "Yea'vett. You're not in a rush somewhere, are you?"

"I actually am," you referred to the empty wine glass you held in your grasp, shrugging off his hand. He let his arm fall to his side, the other coming up to adjust the collar of his suit.

His eyebrows almost seemed to downturn at your answer, his shoulders seeming to tense in a way that they weren't before, "Well, that's just disappointing, isn't it?"

You let your teeth peek out of your smile before he politely directed you to where the drink table was, holding his hand lightly on the fabric between your shoulder blades. After explaining that the glass was not your own and that you had to return to an important discussion, he left you to filling it up.

You quietly went about your careful business, almost groaning when a presence resumed itself back inside of your personal bubble. Turning your head, you were wholly expecting the gorgeous poster-boy to be watching you with the same stormy eyes he had been previously. But now, you were looking up into a different kind of storm.

The storm that you brought with you.

"Who was that?" Anakin asked, his voice stiff with agitation. His jaw was clenched when it closed, and his brow was creased. You swore in these moments his scar opened again, every time it was angry, it seemed to glare at you with the same red that Anakin's temper flared with. His whole stature was off, hands clenched into fists like it was a reflex to the situation. Somewhere in you had to admit that a piece of your heart went out to him when he was angry like this. More than of a piece of your body too.

You rolled your eyes at his tone, pressing a hand to his palm to try and soak some of the anger out of him, but with his eyes glued to yours, it seemed that your soft gesture did nothing to ease up his attitude.

"We bumped into each other and he ended up apologizing to me, that's all," you explained, letting your thumb rub over the cloth of his tie, pulling it through your finger till it reached the end and slipping from underneath your touch.

Anakin leaned closer into you as your knuckles rested against the center of his abdomen. "He was awfully close for an apology," Anakin spit out under his breath, lips pursed after his words were left free. His hand nearest to the table reached up to hold your waist, his thumb pressing into your skin hard as he pulled you closer to his body.

"He was just trying to be nice Anakin, leave it. We can discuss this after the gala," you dismissed the conversation, making Anakin's nose twice in response. You knew he didn't want to leave it, maker, Anakin didn't want to even be here. He was ready to go home and take you apart the way he'd been waiting to do since you left.

This only added fuel to the fire.

You could have been smarter, knowing Anakin's now shortened temper, but he knew you were right. You sometimes wondered how Obi-Wan wasn't scolded for the temper of his former padawan - a Jedi wasn't meant to feel such strong, negative emotions. Maybe you didn't have all the room to talk though, not when he had a strong hold on your heart.

You didn't wait for a response from Anakin, turning to continue back through the crowd. He followed you without word, but you could still feel the tension that didn't drift through the air, but instead connected the two of you like handcuffs.

The conversation with Senator Amidala couldn't have taken longer. She expressed her worries, and the worries of her people as well. Her life was being threatened by an anonymous source and it was endangering those around her at the same time. She was sick of putting her girls' lives in danger for her to simply travel through Coruscant. Maybe a Jedi presence would change things, temporarily stunt the threat and keep her safe. She mentioned the time Anakin and Obi-Wan had helped her through the previous threats - she felt safe in the hands of the now Jedi-Knight that stood beside you, uncharacteristically silent.

You gave her few words back, choosing them carefully and finalizing the conversation with exchanged smiles and an agreement that you and Anakin would keep her safe, though the council would have to approve of her request to have the two of you as her protectors. Times were tough, and availability was tight, you wished more than anything to have the Senator comfortable and safe under the eyes of you.

And Anakin wished nothing more than to get you out of your dress.

The whole conversation you could feel it, the burning gaze of his eyes and maker did you hope that the way he was staring at you was missed by the older woman. For the sake of you and the relationship you had grown with Ani, even if the Senator knew well before now.

And by the time it was finally over, Anakin pulled out a card I'd never seen him pull before. A petty lie, at that.

Anakin's right hand drifted to his back pocket, feeling for something and pretending it had all of his attention. And when he finally lifted his head from where it had tilted down, his hair brushed the sides of his cheeks and he cleared his throat, alerting the senator.

"I'm sorry about the short notice, but the council is ringing me. Can I excuse Y/n and myself?" he asked, giving Padme his best act you've ever seen, confident eyes staring straight into hers.

She nodded, holding up her glass and wishing the both of you well before Anakin took your hand and led you out into the hallway.

You weren't stupid; Anakin knew you weren't and knew that you had caught onto his lie. But, you wanted to play with it as he snuck you around a corner and up some stairs.

"Didn't the council excuse us for tonight?" you asked, reflecting his act.

He didn't answer your question immediately, instead waiting to see if there was anyone nearby. When he confirmed that you two were alone in the hallway, he dragged you into him hastily. His lips landed on yours, making you gasp out of shock. He had a hard grip on your arm as he kissed you, lips consuming your own.

The kiss wasn't long, it was just enough for him to get you back in that needy state he had you in earlier with your lips parted and your head faintly dizzy. Except this time, you had completed what you had came here for. Anakin pulled away, looking at you with eyes that bore their way under your skin and stayed there.

"I excused us for tonight," he said through teeth that were pushed together, "What was you friend's name again?"

You thought for a moment, evaluating your choice of words. You could be easy, give him what he wants, feed into his desire. Or you could challenge him. And you thought that Anakin deserved a challenge, even if it was a simple one that could be ignored by the naked eye.

"His name is Yea'vett. He was just trying to be nice," you argued.

Anakin smiled at you, teeth pale and incisors sharp, "You know I don't like people touching what's mine."

"Would you have rather had me fall?"

"I would have rather have not been here in the first place. I would rather have you split open on my cock right now than be here," his hand placed itself on the back of your neck, fingers wrapping around and heavily pressing to the sides of your throat, "I'm gonna fuck you so hard you'll forget his name."

Your breath went shallow at his words, losing strength in your legs as they felt like they were gonna wobble out from under you like an unsteady stool. His touch was poisonous, sending venom through your veins and making you feel weak.

Anakin smiled wider, soaking in the way that your eyes had softened and your gaze had turned into a desperate one. You eyelids were drifting down and your pupils were full, he knew that look anywhere, it was the same look you gave him when he was stuffed to the hilt in you.

"You wanna go home angel?" he asked, forehead pressed against yours.

You nodded, waiting for his move as he guided you back down the stairs and to the entrance that you had came in through. You didn't care about the way you trailed behind Anakin like a lost puppy dog, so close you almost stepped on his heels multiple times. Anticipation was heavier than the weight of certain stares right now, you'd take any questions tomorrow.

The street lighting that greeted you when you stepped back out into coruscant made your heart thrum. Your apartment was close, only a few minutes a way. A few long minutes that you knew Anakin was about to hate, with an impatient grip on the wheel. Leaving behind his gentleman way, he left you to your own devices of opening your door, which you did without thinking twice of it.

It would've been awkward if you hadn't loved each other long, the way you stared out the open roof to all the buildings and nightmarish traffic lanes. Anakin knew your distraction and found it amusing at times, knowing that underneath the face you held was someone who would be taking him like a whore in mere minutes.

Like you were trained for this exact procedure, you hopped out of the speeder the moment it parked itself. Anakin hadn't even pulled his hands off the wheel before you were running to the apartment entrance and sending him a glance over your shoulder to make sure he was still following.

Anakin smiled, running to catch up to you and trailed as you stepped through the glass doors, flashed the droid at the front desk a smile and hopped into the vacant elevator.

Pressing your floor number, it didn't take long for the doors to shut and Anakin's hunger to grow. He pulled you into him to press your hips to his. You could feel his hard crotch bear down on your pelvis, alerting you to how hard Anakin really was. Maybe you should've been grateful for the low time that Anakin allowed you two at the gala - you were lucky you were even there for over half an hour.

"Maker, I get so hard when I'm around you," Anakin groaned with his head crowding itself in the crook of your neck. His lips found their way to your skin, pressing open-mouthed kisses against it, leading pleasure through your body.

You held his waist, "I hope you understand that's not always a good thing."

Anakin ran the sharp of his teeth along the side of your neck before ending with a sloppy kiss at the base, sucking a red mark onto your skin. Your hips squirmed, making him only respond with a harsher suck.

Anakin pulled his head back the slightest to make eye contact with you, "You're telling me you don't love it when I take you home from these stupid public events and poun-"

The door opened and you practically jumped out of Anakin's arms. You needed to get home, speeding off down the hall as fast as you could in your cramped heels. Hallways were mostly vacant at these hours, those that weren't home wouldn't be home till late in the night and others were home and settling into bed - it made you feel somewhat bad for the running Anakin was doing with his unusually stomping feet.

You punched in the code for your apartment, entering before the door had fully opened. Anakin stepped in behind you and closed the door before snatching you by your waist. He held you with one arm, your back to his chest and the pounding of your heart bouncing off the walls. You giggled, hand holding onto him as he carried you off to your shared bedroom.

Anakin dropped you down on the soft sheets of your bed, your body falling onto your stomach with a bounce. A smile was spread over your lips at the moment, but when you turned to see Anakin, he looked anything but smiley. Maybe through his eyes, you could see the sparkle that told you he was helplessly in love with you, but his eyebrows were tensed ever so slightly and his mouth curved down, the cleft of his chin more visible.

Staring over you, eyes dragging over the inches of your dress with precision all the way to the heels on your feet. Anakin kneeled down at the edge of the bed, only one knee to the plush mattress, and he removed your heels with a gentle pull. It came off and he placed it on the floor, grabbing your legs and lifting it to press a kiss to your ankle.

You held your breath, the moment seemed so out of place for his behavior, almost as if it was made to distract you from why he dragged you out of the gala so promptly. You watched him kiss his way up your leg, stopping where the end of your skirt had folded up when you were dropped. Leaning away, he released your leg to only grab your other and address it the same way he had the first. Only this time, he didn't stop at the hem of your skirt.

Anakin moved up your body, lips ceasing their kisses but his eyes never stopped burning through the fabric of your dress. Like blaster bolts, you could feel them pierce into your skin with deadly precision. You never doubted that he had the mapping of your body memorized, not when looked at you like that while you were clothed.

His hands found their way to your back, spanning over the muscles and pressing you into the bed as he leaned his head down to your ear, "I want you all to myself."

"You have me all to yourself," you whispered back to him, leaning your head to the side, cheek pressing to the mattress.

Clever fingers found their way to the zipper of your dress and pulled it down. You could almost feel some weight drift off your shoulders as the cold air hit the skin along your spine, "I mean I don't want anyone else looking at you the way I'm allowed to. You're mine, and I want everyone to know that. You are mine."

The next moments were a head-dizzying contrast to when he was removing your heels. His hands pushed their way under the fabric of your dress and removed it, pulling it off of you in a hurry and allowing it to hang chaotically off the side of the bed in a mess of blue. Your bra was unclasped closely after without second thought and was tugged from your body, returning to it's place with your dress.

Anakin flipped your body over and watched the fat of your breasts bounce at the movement. He took a step back, standing at the foot of the bed before his hands reached to your hips and latched on. Tugging you to the edge, he pressed your clothed core against the crotch of his pants. A whine left your mouth at the sight in front of you. All of Anakin's clothes were still on, his blazer haphazardly thrown on the ground, which must've came off in a flurry of your undressing. He looked disheveled, lips red and raw, his button down crooked on his torso with half a side pulled out from where it was tucked into his pants. You'd never seen his hair so messy and you never thought a mess could be so beautiful.

"You feel that, angel?" Anakin ground his hard-on against your body, "You feel how fucking hard I am for you?"

You nodded, biting down on your lip in an effort to ground yourself to the world around you, something that the turbulent lighting of Coruscant couldn't accomplish. Anakin's grip on your hips tightened and he tugged your body against his, prominent hard-on pushing against his tight pants and pressing into you.

"Use your words, I wanna hear you say it."

You breathed shallowly, "I feel how hard you are. Ani..."

Anakin moved and hand up to caress your face with a sweet rub of his thumb, "What baby, what do you need?"

You grinded your hips against the swell of his cock through his pants, but Anakin was quick to put you in your place as he tightened his grip on your hips, pressing his own down, sandwiching you between him and the bed. His head hung above yours, his mess of hair tickling your forehead in a silly manner.

It all felt unfair, the way he tried to contain your reach for your own pleasure, and you wished you could hate him for it. But in this moment, you depended on him to soften up and deliver you the pleasure your body begged for.

"I need you, Ani. I wanna feel good, only you can make me feel good."

Anakin bumped his forehead gently against yours, "You know that's not what I'm looking for, angel."

You could feeling his breath lingering with your own, creating the same feeling throughout your body that you felt when you would make out with him. The thought alone had you on a high and made you lunge up, attempting to connect your lips with his. But, as quick as the thought crossed you mind, it was shut down by Anakin's hand leaving your waist and wrapping around the base of your throat, pushing you lightly back to the bed. You whined, knowing that you were running out of ways to escape his hold.

The whine from you made Anakin laugh, "Eager girl."

The comment made your cheeks flush and made you more aware of the hand that pressed to your neck like a shackle. You let out a shaky breath, "Please fuck me, I need you to touch me, kiss me, fuck me, anything, please!"

The way you begged made Anakin's cock twitch in his pants, pulling a groan from his lips and setting it free into the air. He took his hand away from your throat, moving it to his waistband and unbuttoned his pants with one, skillful hand. Excitement spiked through you, sending you to pull yourself up to reach your hand under the fabric of his button-down that was tucked into his pants. Your fingers wrapped around the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down along with his pants till they rested on the crest of his thighs.

Anakin let you, watching closely while biting his lip at your once-over of his dick. You took ahold of it, pumping it and watching a bead of precum drool from the head. Straining your body forward, you gathered spit between your lips before letting it travel through the tight purse of them and fall to the blushing tip of his cock, sliding down and into your curled hand as you continued to jerk him off.

"Fuck, baby," Anakin moaned with a hand coming to hold your wrist, "I wanna give you what you were begging for."

Though disappointment flashed over your face in the form of a pout, you flopped your body back on the bed in content. You watched as your fully-clothed lover took himself into his own hands, letting out a quiet sigh from his chest and guiding himself to push aside the fabric of your panties.

"Are you gonna keep all your clothes on, big boy?" You teased with a smile. The head of his cock ran through the soaking slit of your pussy, collecting it's lubrication.

He looked up from where he was gazing at your sex, connecting your eyes with his. The look he gave you was almost a warning, telling you that you should really keep your mouth shut, little quips not being one of the things he wanted to hear out of you. "I need to have you, I'm not wasting time."

You spoke before you could bite your tongue, "You were fine with wasting your time earlier."

You allowed a smirk to creep onto your face, but it was soon swept off in the tidal wave of euphoria. The blunt head of Anakin's length pushed itself into you, creating a stretch like no other, one that sent your jaw dropping and your eyebrows creeping together. You and Anakin surely didn't abstain, but he always gave you the same stretch every time he slipped into you. It left your core tightening and your body feeling heavy.

The way Anakin held you, his other hand returning to it's rightful place on your hip, sent your head careening backward into the soft bed. The pressure of his fingers made you feel small in a way, man-handling you like he would picking up a doll. You tried to see the way he pushed into you, but you settled for looking up at his smug expression that told you he was splitting you in half. Whatever power he held over you, it melted your brain in the most humiliating way - Anakin seemed to adore it.

"Yeah? You like that cock, huh brat? Shuts you right up, doesn't it?" he said, spitting acid into your veins, melting your muscles and refusing them to be in your own control.

You tasted blood as your teeth finally pricked your lip - Anakin slid into you, slow and delicious, just like the breaths that he took which fanned on your face sweetly. His hair hung like messy vines above you and his eyes were barely visible; blue peaking through the waves. But his smile, the one he barely could keep as you sucked him in, shone like a star over the ocean at night. The grip his fingers had on your body contoured his hand and sent shivers up your spine and into your neck where the after-shock made you choke out a silky moan.

Anakin leaned forward, pressing his nose into yours as he consumed the breaths you took, "You look so beautiful when my dick's in you. Almost like you belong like this, right here soaking me." A deep laugh accompanied his words, kissing your lips deeply.

Welcoming his mouth against yours, you made out with a deep passion that you've never felt from anyone but Anakin. And you thought for a moment, that maybe that's why you were wholly his and he yours, the way you two connected like lost puzzle pieces was like none other.

You gasped into his mouth, walls stuttering around him. The way you tightened dragged a moan from him. You could feel every vein of his cock press into you as he let you take him slowly. He knew you could though, he's bent you in half like a folding chair before and made you take him. But like this, when things were so slow you felt the world had gone cold, you could feel the pop of the head into you, could feel the curve of his dick. If you concentrated hard enough, you could swear you felt yourself gushing around him.

You let your hands reach up to hold his face sweetly, thumbs settling on his cheekbones as your lips wrapped around his bottom one before restarting their tasting of his mouth. You felt heat rush to your core when Anakin bottomed inside of you, hitting something deep. He pulled away from the sloppy kiss, planting a peck to yours before recoiled his hips, pushing back against yours torturously.

A whine left you, sounding oddly familiar to his name. You played this same game time and time again where, in his possessive attitudes, he'd try to coax his name out of your lips. And you knew he was pushing for it harder tonight.

Anakin set a steady pace, his hips beating against yours with slow, deep thrusts that sent your eyes rolling back and your body shivering. Your hands moved to the back of his neck, holding his head close to yours and grounding you from the way his cock fucked into your spongy cunt, looking for the spot that made you tear up.

His one thumb teased over your hip bone, the only gentle thing about the way you were positioned. The lewd noises of slapping skin and your soaking cunt bounced off the walls, making your ears hot. Your body reacted to him like a faucet that you couldn't turn off. But fuck, you wouldn't anyways, not when he was shoving himself balls deep inside of you, trying like hell to hit something deep.

"He could never know your body like I do, nobody could," Anakin growled, "That's cause you're mine. Nobody could know the way that you love being fucked like a whore, nobody could know the way you shut up as soon as you get my fat cock in you. You take it so good, don't you angel? You take it so fucking good."

You moaned at his words, loud and unrestrained from where you were before. You settled on training your eyes on his as he pummeled you with his strong hips, sturdy thighs smacking against your ass. You would most definitely be sore in the morning, and you could count on bruises blooming at your hip-bones.

"So good Ani... only you, fuck- only you!"

Anakin planted another sweet kiss to your lips, smiling, "That's right, only me. I get to fuck you, and pump you full, and hold you every night because you're mine. Nobody deserves you, maker- I don't deserve you. But I'd be damned if I didn't fuck you like I do."

Anakin's hips sped, the thrusts barely changing the way they shook your body and melted your brain. You couldn't ignore the way your stomach tightened and the fuzziness in your head distorted the way moans flew off your tongue.

"Anakin... fuck- Ani, I'm close," you whined, nose pushing against his.

Anakin pulled away from your face momentarily, a hand falling lower to guide his thumb to your clit. Your body tensed, waves off pleasure shooting through you. A little more.

Anakin gave up any softness, hips fucking you into the mattress, pushing calls of his name out of your mouth, "Yeah? Come on baby, cum for me, wanna feel you cum on my cock."

You felt him strike a spot inside of you that moved you to grip his hair, tugging his head back. Your fingers pulling at the strands only parting his lips and spurring on his rough movements. His pelvis occasionally pushing his thumb hard into your clit, sending sparks through you that electrified your nerves.

"Maker... Ani, holy fuck- Ani-" your words almost felt pushed out of your chest. It was as if he was trying to hammer a nail into the wall, and he was denting the wall. Your knees locked around his waist and your legs wrapped around him, heels digging into his back as the band inside of you snapped. A hot white flashed across your body, making your limbs lock and stutter, eyes closed and mouth open.

"Your pussy gets so wet when you cum- fucking squeezing me," he grunted, his pace turning sloppy and losing it's previous rhythm.

Anakin threw his head into your neck, resting his face into the crook as he let out a strangled moan, hips bucking to bottom out inside of you. Hot ropes of cum coated your walls, spreading a familiar warmth through your body. Your lover's cool panting contrasted the warmth, sending a shiver up your spine.

He came down, falling limp against you. A smile formed on his face, one that pressed into the skin of your neck. Relaxing muscles made him lay on you with his hands releasing their pressure and his legs shifting slighting. You wrapped your arms around his torso to hold him to you, a smile flashing across your face as well.

You squeezed around him, making him moan and curse into your shoulder, "Don't."

You giggled, only earning a huff from him. Your hands traveled to his dress shirt, moving the fabric up and trying to get it off. Anakin moved without a word, lifting his arms and letting you remove it from his sweaty body. It would have to be washed, but you didn't really mind.

"Here, let me-" Anakin pulled himself out of your slowly, pulling a softer noise from your throat. A warmth crackled through his body, watching his spend drip out of you like syrup. Your cheeks flushed finally, feeling shy even though you had imprinted kisses on your shoulder to prove you weren't as innocent as you felt in that moment.

Clothes were tossed in the same pile as your dress, creating a messy pile of elegant clothes, ones that belonged in displays, not on hard-wood floors. With you scooting up the bed, Anakin had disappeared into the bathroom and coming back with a damp cloth.

Climbing over you, he placed a heavy hand on your pelvis and cleaned you gently, though overstimulated sighs didn't fail to leave your lips. He bothered to set that in the laundry bin next to your closet, finding himself back to the bed quickly.

Anakin laid down beside you, bouncing as he let his back fall. His arms scooped you up and held you against him. A hand came to hold your back while the one not tucked under you was tracing circles into his hard chest.

"You know that I love you, right? I don't want anyone else," you finally spoke, looking up at his face through the dim lighting of the room none of you bothered to do anything about.

A wide grin spread on his face, "I know, I just like teasing you."

•--•

#star wars x reader #star wars smut #star wars x reader smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader smut

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fayes-fics · 2 months

Text

Friends & Family

Friends + Masterpost

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader, Modern AU

Summary: Anthony has a very important question to ask, but the universe appears to be conspiring against him. Threequel. Set a year after the first fic in this series

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI. Public sexual acts, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, woman on top, back-to-back orgasm. Also, on a non-sexual front, all sorts of emotions and thwarted proposals.

Word Count: 5.4k

Authors Note: This is VERY, VERY belated request fill for the divine @colettebronte. She has had the patience of a saint as I have grappled with this request for many months. I hope this is worth the wait, but to be honest, after this delay, I'm not sure anything could be. Thank you to @sorryallonsy for betaing. Please enjoy <3

“Viscount Anthony Bridgerton, what is this??”

There is an undignified yelp, and a spatula drops to the floor with a loud splat. Apparently, he didn't hear you come in.

“Bloody hell! You scared the shit out of me… And what is the full-name business all about?” he exclaims, spinning around, holding his hands aloft as if in a hostage situation. The sight is made even funnier by the fact he is wearing one of your novelty aprons, complete with floppy bunny ears.

You have walked in from afternoon coffee with old friends to find your kitchen in absolute disarray. Pots, pats on every surface, opened containers, the contents of your spice cupboard all pulled out and haphazardly dotted around. There is a large pile of reusable shopping bags with half-open veggies in and what looks like a sourdough loaf cut open and likely going stale next to the complete wrong knife for the job at hand. There is almost no worktop surface that is left unused or covered in some sticky-looking residue from god knows what.

“I said yes to you making dinner while I was out; I did not say you could conduct some kind of controlled explosion in my kitchen,” holding your hands up in exasperated resignation.

Frankly, it’s a mystery why he offered to make dinner in the first place; you have never seen the man so much as boil an egg in all the years you have known him. And certainly not in the twelve months you have loved him. His idea of cooking is usually stopping at Whole Foods to pick up a hot rotisserie chicken.

He walks towards you with that adorable puppy dog expression, his perennial get-out-of-jail-free card. You pick a fleck of what you think is broccoli from his hair as he reaches you.

“Points for effort?” he pouts, a tiny smile toying with the corners of his mouth, seeking forgiveness. You let him pull you into his arms and kiss your cheek. “Do you still love me?” he teases, pulling back to shoot you that perfect-toothed charming grin.

“I’ll love you even more if you tidy all this up,” you counter, raising an eyebrow as he chuckles. “Although I’m intrigued. You have never once made dinner since we’ve been dating; why now?”

“Well, I wanted to do something special…” he says pointedly, pulling away to switch off the hob when there is a slight burning smell in the air.

“What’s so special about today?” You frown.

“Really?” He spins around to look at you, a slight pout as you wrack your brains. “What happened on this date one year ago?”

Ohhh…

You feel bad you had completely not realised it. Exactly one year ago to this day, you got together after many years of combative flirting. Heart melting in your ribcage as you suddenly realise this is him attempting to cook an anniversary dinner for you.

“You secret romantic, you,” you murmur, contrition and affection burning inside as you can't help but seek his touch.

“Don’t let anyone know,” he jests as he pulls you into his arms again and kisses your temple. “I have a reputation to uphold….”

“Of course…” you giggle, resting your head on his shoulders as you sway together in the bombsite that was your kitchen. “And here was me thinking you would do something far more risqué…”

“Such as..?” he prompts, intrigued by where your thoughts have gone.

“Oh, I don't know….” you run your fingers into his lush hair, pressing into him. “Maybe take me back to that same penthouse your friend owns. Maybe make it to that overpriced sofa this time…” his eyes flash dark and dangerous, licking his lips, and you feel compelled to continue, “Maybe even that enormous bed. And the balcony….”

He groans gently as his mind no doubt fills with the same images as yours. “Fuckkkkkkk….” he rues, “I should have done that. I’m definitely no Gordon Ramsey….”

You laugh and run your hands up his biceps. “Maybe not. But I do have a suggestion…” you offer, dropping your voice a little smokier.

“Tell me…” Anthony rumbles, nudging your cheek until your lips brush, fingers digging into your flesh where he holds you.

“Let's work up an appetite and then order from our usual. Tidying up can wait…” you whisper, mouth ghosting over his, fingers opening the top button of his shirt and toying with the patch of chest hair.

“You’re fucking perfect.”

You squeal gently as he picks you up and strides towards your bedroom. The little navy velvet box burning a hole in his suit jacket pocket can wait for another day. Perhaps.

—

During a boring editorial meeting the following morning, your phone buzzes in your lap.

AB: Can you be at mine at 7pm tonight?

Y/N: Yes… but why?

AB: All will be revealed 😉

AB: Come hungry for delicious protein

Y/N: Filthy. I like it. 😉😛

AB: OMG NO! Not THAT. Bloody hell…

Y/N: Shame…

AB: Well, okay, maybe a bit of that. Afterwards. 😉

Y/N: *victory dance* 💃

AB: I love you, you filthy animal 😛😘

—

You walk into Anthony’s kitchen at precisely 7pm that evening to find some very posh-looking man in a bowtie pouring some wine into the good glasses. The ones you are too scared to use.

“What is all this?” Your curiosity piqued.

“Cooking was a disaster, so this is recompense,” Anthony greets you with a hug and a brief kiss on the lips.

He looks handsome in his usual crisp shirt, undone just enough at the chest to be distracting, and custom-tailored trousers that cling to him just right. It takes some effort to tear your eyes away from him, but when you do, you now see a smorgasbord of cheese on his expansive, pristine white marble kitchen island, with fruit, crackers and all manner of chutneys.

“Oooh, lovely. Fancy cheese and wine night?” you guess.

“Indeed,” he replies warmly. “Baxter here is a world-renowned expert on such things. He will be taking us on a cheese world tour paired with the very best wines.”

“Sounds lovely. Thank you,” you nod to the man, then crowd into Anthony again. “The anniversary of our first proper date?” you guess, kissing his jaw, enjoying the slight rasp of stubble there.

“The lady is learning…” he ribs genially, taking your hand and pulling you along to take a seat on one of the stools.

Baxter speaks engagingly and knowledgeable, and admittedly, every cheese and wine pairing is exquisite. Just a bite from each, but after 10 countries, you are a little tipsy, leaning into Anthony and shooting him goofy smiles, resting your chin on his shoulder, cheekily grabbing his thigh where the fabric pulls taut right over his quad muscle so temptingly. You want to climb into his lap and wrap around him.

After an hour, the man politely takes his leave, mentioning he has left some more “adventurous” choices in sealed boxes in the fridge.

“What does adventurous cheese mean?” you tipsily ponder after the man has left. “Do you think it's abseiled down a mountain?”

Anthony laughs accommodatingly at your goofiness, taking your hand and leading you outside onto the balcony. “I assume strong-flavoured maybe. But I’m quite sure it's all bravado,” he assures.

You lean on the railing, looking down upon the Thames below, all of London seeming reflected in its inky depths, a thousand lights twinkling in its choppy waves, like a sea of stars beneath you.

“I could never tire of this view,” you declare wistfully, a warmth behind your ribs as he crowds into your back, placing a light blanket around your shoulders.

“It is yours to enjoy for as long as it is mine,” he breathes into your hair, kissing your temple and wrapping his arms around your waist.

You sway together gently in the breeze, your hands over his, pushing back into his warm body.

“I love you,” you say quietly, turning to nuzzle his cheek.

“I love you too,” he responds immediately, “and I have for so long now; it feels wrong when you are not with me,” his tone ardent, gentle. “Wait here….” he whispers, a waver in his voice that makes you pause.

You wait patiently as he slips back inside, the breeze dancing through your hair as you inhale deeply and soak in the city. Although you are high above street level, the sounds are still there, like a background hum. It’s as energising as the country air at his rural ancestral home in Kent, just in a different way—so vibrant and teeming with life.

Anthony seems to be gone for a while, so out of intrigue, you wander inside to the fridge, grab one of the containers Baxter left and take it back onto the balcony before he reappears. When you peel it open, you are taken aback by the smell. It's very pungent, even out in the open air.

“There is an important question I wa…” Anthony freezes mid-sentence. “Dear god, what is that smell?” he exclaims, his face scrunching violently.

“Oh, I think it's the cheese Baxter left.”

You swing the container around so it's right under his nose and watch him go white as a sheet and then double over to one side, dry heaving.

“That's disgusting!” He gags, quickly putting something small from his hand into his trouser pocket as he coughs roughly, almost bent double.

“It’s not that bad, is it?” you frown, bringing the container back to your own nose, closer than you had it before.

Then, a wave of nausea hits you, too. It smells of decay and bad feet and turns your stomach so violently that you have to grab the balcony railing to stop yourself from stumbling.

“Fuck that's terrible,” you stutter, trying hard to keep down the rich wines and cheeses you have already consumed.

“Throw it!” Anthony blurts, somewhat frantic.

“Where?” you panic, holding it away at arm's length, desperate to stay upwind of it.

“Off the fucking balcony! Fling it in the Thames! I can't even have that shit in my bins….” he yelps before another wretch doubles him over again.

Gripping the container, you fling the contents as hard as you can, watching the blob of cheese sail downwards in an arc for twelve storeys, hitting the river below with a distant but satisfying plop. You both stand there wheezing and gasping as you reseal the container immediately, fearful of any residual scent.

“Dear god, am I going to inadvertently ruin every one of these special evenings?” he grumbles under his breath, sounding more like a rhetorical question than anything.

You have no idea what he could mean, but you don’t have the capacity to ask - you have to run to the cloakroom as the mere olfactory flashback makes you nauseated.

When you reemerge ten minutes later, full of regret and needing toothpaste, you find him in his en suite bathroom in a similar fragile state. You both crawl into his bed feeling delicate, curling up foetal and holding hands across the expanse of the bed, him muttering apologies.

—

III

The following week, Anthony takes you back to the same restaurant where you had your second date, one year to the day later. Seeing the pattern in advance, you wear the beautiful little black dress he bought you recently. And you are pleased to make him temporarily tongue-tied when you slip off your coat to reveal it, whispering coquettishly in his ear that you are happy to skip dinner and return to his.

“Oh, we will,” he rumbles, a promissory note that lights a fire low in your belly.

After perusing the menu, you decide to order the same dish you had last time. You are certain everything is terrific, but you remember it being so delicious it had you making noises only Anthony usually can. Also, you are hoping for a complete repeat of the same night from a year ago. Memorably, it was the first time he managed to give you three orgasms in one night—you are very keen to repeat that.

But rather strangely, Anthony’s energy seems slightly off, almost nervous. You can only assume it's apprehension that this night does not go as the previous two attempts at anniversary celebrations have.

While you are sharing a delicious starter, a familiar face over the room at the bar catches your eye.

“Is that Benedict?” you frown, causing Anthony to twist in your booth and look.

“Probably,” he sighs.

You are nonplussed by his reaction, so you take it upon yourself to wave to him, to Anthony’s seeming chagrin.

When Benedict wanders over, you notice his shoulders are hunched, a shuffled gait. Not the usual mister sunshine he is.

“Hey Ben, everything okay?” you check as he pulls up nearby, hovering a little.

“I got dumped,” he exhales. “So I’m drowning my sorrows,” he explains, holding his whiskey tumbler aloft in a rueful toast.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you grimace, knowing he has been more unlucky in love than not, which seems a shame; he’s a sweet, good-looking man but often gets used, attracted to people who take advantage of his giving nature.

“Anyway, I don’t want to interrupt your dinner…” he placates modestly, glancing at his older brother, who seems to be brooding.

“Don't be silly, you can join us,” you beckon him into the booth.

“No, he can’t,” Anthony interjects.

You frown at him. “Why not? It’s just dinner,” you dispute.

“No, it’s not; it’s our anniversary,” Anthony argues before turning to Benedict. “Brother, I love you and all, but would you kindly fuck off?” Anthony grouses, gritting his teeth.

“Anthony!” You admonish. “Don’t be a dick!” You roll your eyes. “Ignore your grouchy brother, Ben; of course, you can join us,” you offer again, seeing the hesitancy but also the sadness tugging at the corner of his eyes that means you are worried about leaving him alone.

He acquiesces, and as he wanders across to the bar to grab his jacket and join you, you scowl at Anthony. “He’s just been dumped. You could be nicer,”

“I could… just not tonight,” he says, almost harangued.

You decide not to dwell on why he seems unduly hung up on this evening’s plans, being so particular, watching him seem to fiddle with an item in his jacket pocket, then look askance across the restaurant, defeated.

“Anthony, are you okay?” You check quietly as Benedict walks back over.

“Yeah, I just….” He sighs and finally meets your eye squarely with a tinge of sadness. “I had other plans for us tonight. Not babysitting…”

At one point during the main course, Benedict excuses himself to the bathroom. Anthony has been mostly monosyllabic, almost sulking, and you feel guilty; perhaps he did indeed have other ideas for the evening.

You shuffle around to lean into him and grab his hand, placing it high on your thigh under the table, the message unmistakable.

“We can still have our plans for later…” you whisper hotly into his ear.

He seems to perk up immediately, his hand grasping your flesh in a way that catches your breath. “You always know what to say to make me feel better…” he murmurs, at once playful and reverent.

“Touch me…” you whisper, the need for him an instant, tart taste in your mouth.

“Here, in the restaurant? With my brother coming back to join us any moment?” His tone is incredulous but unmistakably aroused.

“Yes…” you hiss, pushing his hand up higher to the junction of your thighs where you burn molten for him always.

He growls when he realises you have made another style choice, this one scandalous—no underwear.

“I’ll do more than that, you wonderful minx,” he huffs, pulling your thigh over his lap under the tablecloth. He plunges two fingers into your aching pussy and presses his thumb over your clit. You gasp and grip the table hard, just as Benedict reappears.

It certainly does wonders for Anthony’s disposition, like he is a different man now. Chatting amiably to his brother as you subtly try not to look flustered, dripping silently into his palm as he holds still.

“Whatever you did to put this one in a better mood, thank you,” Benedict jests at one point.

“I just had to give the old grouch a hug and his favourite toy to keep him entertained,” you joke back, him not realising exactly how true that is. Anthony’s fingers flex deep inside you at your cheeky riposte, and you can feel his smirk as you have to cough to hide your moan.

“Well, thank you,” Benedict smiles, “you bring things out in my brother I never thought I would see. So whatever magic trick you are pulling, keep doing it.”

Anthony’s fingers curl hard against your g spot, and you have to laugh loudly to not scream.

“She’s the very best brother,” Anthony replies, lips brushing your temple as he flicks his thumb teasingly over your clit. “I hope one day you find someone as special as she is,” he offers, his first sympathetic noise to his brother of the evening.

“I should be so lucky,” Benedict adds quietly, tone pensive, glancing at his phone as it lights up by his elbow.

Anthony withdraws from your pussy; you whimper mutely, feeling bereft but also relieved, not sure you can act any longer. You watch as he brings those fingers up to his mouth and sucks them decadently as Benedict is distracted by his phone.

“Thank you for dessert, my love,” he thrums into your ear, “and the show,” he adds cheekily, your clit and pussy clenching, denied, so very aroused.

“Take me home right now, Anthony!” Your order is through gritted teeth, quiet but brokering no argument.

And he does.

—

A tide of relief hits you as the door to his sleek penthouse clicks softly open; tossing aside your umbrella and slipping off your shoes in the fancy hallway. It's been a taxing work day; all you can think about is climbing into the shower, then curling up and watching something mindless until Anthony gets home.

“Y/n…”

An enticing but distant call in that familiar voice.

“Anthony?” you respond, puzzled. “I thought you would be out late tonight?” you add, wandering forward, trying to find the source.

“Change of plan….”

You cross the open-plan lounge area with its floor-to-ceiling view across the rooftops of London. It's been more than a year of dating, and still, you aren't entirely used to the sheer scale of his place compared to yours. It feels like it takes ages to get across just his living room.

“Where are you?” you frown, hands on hips. It sounds like he's likely in the bedroom.

“Follow the sound of my voice,” he entices, and yep, it's definitely from that direction.

However, when you wander in, the room is empty, the early evening sun blazing onto the soft, luxurious white duvet on his vast bed.

“Getting warmer,” he offers, quieter now, and you recognise his voice has an echo. He can only be in his en-suite bathroom.

You round the corner into that tastefully masculine room - all slate and birch - to be greeted by a sight that makes your lungs feel too tight.

There, in his sizeable sunken whirlpool tub, is one Anthony Bridgerton. Very naked and very wet. Standing so that the bubbling waterline hugs his hips—acres of toned torso, water droplets meandering down the washboard of his stomach and glistening in the thatch of hair across his chest. You bite your lips without even realising it, shifting your stance as you feel a ripple of excitement over your skin.

“Hello, Ms y/l/n,” he preens, knowing exactly how much the sight before you makes you tongue-tied and aroused.

“Hello…” you stutter back, eyes still feasting. “What is the CEO of Bridgerton Enterprises doing taking a bath at….” you glance down to check your watch, “... 5:25 pm on a Thursday?”

“It's a special occasion…” he smirks, wading towards the edge of the tub closest to you. “I thought a bath would be nice.”

You can't seem to look away from the wake of waves cresting his Adonis belt as he does so. The sight of something delicious just below the surface is almost hypnotic.

“My eyes are up here, you know,” he mocks gently, tongue literally in cheek, as you cut your gaze to his triumphant face.

“Wh… what special occasion?” you manage to stumble out.

“Surely you recall what happened on this night exactly twelve months ago?”

When you look nonplussed - frankly, you can barely remember your own name right now - he mock sighs.

“I surprised you on my way back from the airport?” he prompts.

“Oh!” you suddenly cotton on, “it's been a year since we exchanged keys!”

He nods, and a fetching beam breaks out across his face. “Ahhh, the lady remembereth,” he winks.

“So this is how you’re celebrating?” your eyes again drag covetously down his body.

“No, this is how WE are celebrating…” he corrects and gestures towards a bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket at one corner of the tub, along with two long-stemmed flutes.

You can't help but match his grin now. “Well, I can’t find fault with that idea,” you admit, taking a step closer until you are at the edge of the tub surround.

“Hmm, I thought not,” he says silkily, closing the gap between you.

Grabbing the back of your neck with a firm hand, he draws you down into a deep, sensual kiss. His mouth claims yours. You shiver as warm water trickles down inside your top from the hand in your hair. He crowds into you, soaking your clothing with the press of his body as you kneel on the sunken tub surround.

“Oh no, this is all wet,” he feigns, tugging lightly at your sleeve, “you will just have to take it off.”

“Hmmm. I rather think that is your doing. How about you take it off?” you challenge, the banter between you never seeming to get old.

“Maybe I’ll just pull you into the water fully clothed?” he posits, raising an eyebrow.

You laugh and take a step back, revelling in his undivided attention as you strip for him, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his expression hungry; the only sounds are his panted breath and the bubbles roiling in the tub. You are down to your underwear, a new matching lacy set, as if you knew, on some subconscious level, it was a special occasion, when he lunges forward and makes you squeal as he effortlessly picks you up and hauls you into the huge tub with him. The warm, effervescent water is a balm and tonic, making your skin tingle.

“What is the point of celebrating anything if it’s not an excuse to get naked?” he offers silkily, cupping your jaw with both palms, his wet thumbs rubbing over your cheekbones, then his lips are back, plundering, seeking, his tongue tangling with yours as his hands roam your skin, arranging so you are straddling his lap, his cock a solid press against your inner thigh.

This is indeed how you always want to celebrate every milestone of your relationship—with wonderful, sensual intimacy. Anthony pulls back from the kiss, and you stare into his rich eyes, blissfully tracing the lines of his face with fingertips as he easily unhooks your bra and pulls it gently over the rounds of your shoulders. This close-up and soaked, his face is all sharp contours and smooth, lightly tanned skin.

“You are too handsome,” your internal monologue spilling out with a light mewl as his thumbs brush your nipples.

“I love you too,” he chuckles drolly to make a point.

“Oh yes, that too,” you append with a playful pout. Then, a more sincere “I love you.”

“Wonderful to hear,” he rumbles into your ear as his hands slide underwater to tug down your underwear.

He pulls you deeper into his lap, your thighs pushed wide around his slender hips. His rigid cock nudges your slit promisingly, and you wait with bated breath for his much-wanted invasion. But he pauses, and you feel the curl of his smile against your cheekbone.

“Champagne?” he teases, holding still.

“Now?!” you splutter. “How about you get inside me first?”

“I thought you'd never ask,” he answers, wry and laconic.

Any witty riposte you may have dies on your lips as he surges into your body, knowing you need no warm-up, ready for him the minute you rounded the corner of the room.

“Happy key day,” he murmurs as your eyes flutter closed and you moan loudly, him nudging that spot that makes you so addicted to him.

“Happy key day,” your response is a ragged exhale as you adjust to his deep invasion.

Every time it still feels like the first, like it's just too good, and you just want to cling to him and be fucked into oblivion or fuck him into oblivion. A potent, heavy feeling inside that makes you crackle with energy and feel sated at the same time.

“Fuck me, Anthony,” you sigh into his wet hair, pushing closer into his embrace, voicing your exact desires.

“With pleasure.”

You squeak as his hands grasp tight around your waist and haul you up until just his tip is still inside you, then slams you back down, a curse falling from your lips as he does. His handling is slightly rough in a way that feels perfect, his teeth glancing your earlobe before he sucks it into his mouth and bites lightly.

Then it's a wondrous carnal dance, your joint noises echoing up the slate tiles as you fuck wantonly. Taking over at one point and gripping the edge of the oversized tub, you ride him for all your worth, chasing that feeling only he, his cock, has ever given you. So addictive ever since that very first night.

“I only ever want to fuck you, always…” the words tumbling from your lips unbidden, no filter between your thoughts and mouth as you spiral higher.

Even in the full throes of passion, his expression softens as you confess it.

“Forever?” something vulnerable in his panted tone as you rise and fall upon him.

“Forever, Anthony Bridgerton,” you vow, sensing his need to hear it, wrapping your arms tightly around his shoulders, pressing all of your being into him, wanting your bodies to be forged together somehow.

His thumb slips between your legs, and you cry out as he snags your clit perfectly, eyes rolling, feeling like a live wire.

“I need to feel it; please give it to me,” he implores desperately, thumb flicking almost violently over your engorged pearl.

It doesn't take much more, and you are fracturing around him. Crying his name, fingernails leaving crescent shapes on his shoulders as you reach that high, unable to stop slamming upon him as you flutter, your whole body spasming in pleasure but unwilling to stop. Him roaring his approval as you squeeze his cock tight, rippling around him.

“Please don't come,” you plead to him, “I need more, Anthony, more,” a wrecked sob, wanting to orgasm again. He snarls, his teeth on your cheekbone, his grip tightening around your hips, staving off his orgasm as best he can.

You grab his face and babble nonsense, saying you need his cock forever, strung out on the edge, almost a mania in your being, needing everything he can give. He pants harshly into your open-mouthed, sloppy kisses as you keep riding wound so tight like a coiled spring, wanting to be speared open by him always.

“Marry me!” he cries as you both reach that peak together, an explosion in both of your beings, feeling him come inside you harsh and deep, moaning your name like a prayer.

You collapse upon him, the bubbles of the jetted tub tickle your skin as you heave breaths, wracked and sated to your very core. A high like you have never known.

“Did you just…. propose?” you stutter as your brain comes back online, his cock still buried inside you.

“Shit…” he laments. “That was NOT how it was supposed to go! I had it all planned out!” he decries, burying his face into your shoulder where you still sit upon him.

“Anthony….” there are no other words, shock tying your tongue.

He pulls back and looks contrite. “Please allow me a do-over?” his face so beseeching.

Raw emotion and victory crest hard in your veins, and you can't help but banter with him - as you always have, as you always will, until death do you part now.

“No, Viscount Bridgerton,” you rag, holding his face, “No do-overs. You will just have to live with the fact you proposed to me as we came together….”

His face is a jumble of warring emotions as you realise you have kept him on tenterhooks about your answer.

“…And you will just have to accept that I said yes with you still inside me,” you add silkily.

A handsome grin claims his whole face, relief and devotion coursing through him. “We can’t tell anyone,” he whispers as you resurface from another kiss.

“Our little secret,” you smile back as he finally slips from your body.

—

“You know I might be the first-ever Viscountess with a garden flat in Zone 3,” you chuckle, sitting in matching fluffy robes on his balcony, the sky a riot of colour as the sun sets.

A few minutes before, he had gotten down on one knee and produced a little velvet box. You squealed and said yes again, watching transfixed as he pushed a flawless, elegant three-carat diamond onto your finger.

Anthony frowns deeply. “Err, no. You are moving in here with me,” he asserts loftily.

“I’m not selling my place!”

“You can rent it out!” he waves dismissively.

“Urgh, tenants. Hassle.” You roll your eyes.

“Okay, fine, then we can just use it to store all of my stuff you hate, alright?” he counters, catching your gaze with a fiery challenge. Your insides ablaze that your trademark flirtatious antagonism will always be there, even once you are married.

“Oh, Viscount Bridgerton, you have a deal…” you whisper coquettish and swing off of your lounger onto his, straddling him and sealing the pact with a kiss.

“I’m just so glad I could finally make it happen.”

You flip around and settle between his legs, your spine on his chest, lacing your hands together over your robe. “What do you mean?”

He barks a laugh you feel echo into your back. “So this is not the first time I have tried to propose to you. Remember that disastrous cooking? Attempt 1. Cheese night when we almost died? Attempt 2. Benedict interruptus? Attempt 3.” He holds up a hand before you, counting each on his fingers. “I almost gave up.”

You laugh and realise with hindsight how he seemed off kilter on those occasions, a soft ache behind your ribs in empathy. “I’m so glad you didn’t. Give up, that is,” you murmur, running your fingers over his lovingly once he lowers his hand back to your belly.

“I jest; I would never give up trying to make you my wife,” he pledges solemnly into your hair, kissing the shell of your ear. “And I hope you will never give up on me, as terrible of a husband as I will likely be….” he demures.

“I can do that, old friend…” you tease, a callback to that first night you got together.

“Less of the old,” he chides, immediately picking up your invitation, an exact repeat of your words to each other that first night you got together, heart melting as you realise he remembers the conversation word for word, too.

“I've known you my whole life, Anthony,” you continue, that conversation etched into your brain, turning back over in his arms. “You can't lie to me…”

“I never will,” he goes offscript, and you exchange laden looks. Then, a dangerous smirk takes over his face as he leans closer. “But you can handcuff me to our bed anytime,” he adds, a nod to the joke you made that night.

“You wish, you lucky fuck,” you respond, aping his line.

He grins widely and pulls back, handing you a champagne flute from the nearby lounger table.

“From old friends to new family…” he toasts, sincere and ardent, clinking his glass softly against yours.

“Friends and family…” you smile, your diamond ring afire in the setting sun, as you take a sip and pull him in for a blistering kiss.

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