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writingmingyu · 5 months

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Put a Shirt On, Kim Mingyu

Pairings: FuckBoy!Mingyu x afab!reader Summary: Your fwb Mingyu sent you a message and you can't ignore it Genre: College AU, Smut, Minors DNI Warnings: Protected sex - use of a condom, reader is a little mean and a little selfish Word count: ~1.9k

Author’s Note: Happy New Year! I saw this photo and I had an idea (I mean who didn't look at this photo and have ideas 😈) This was fun and something new, we always talk about taking clothes off this man but when do we ever put them back on??? And so it escalated from there.

I hope you enjoy as always ^_^

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

*1 new message*

You reach over to your nightstand to check the message.

It is an image of Mingyu, your fuck buddy. It is cropped so you can only see his bare shoulders in the mirror selfie. You up? The caption says.

You roll your eyes. As much as you like hooking up with Mingyu, sometimes he could be a complete douchebag. This was why you were only fuck buddies and you hadn’t taken the relationship any further. Sometimes you thought he could be the kind of guy you wouldn’t be embarrassed to bring home to your family, other times he did shit like this.

No, put a shirt on and go to bed. You reply. Refusing to look at the image he had sent. He had annoyed you by saying something dumb the previous day so you were not going to appease him by coming over right now.

A few minutes go by and there’s no response, usually Mingyu would take the bait and keep up the banter but there was nothing. So you take another peek at the photo.

It was slightly blurry and he had cropped it in such a way that you couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing with his other hand…you had a rule with him - no dick pics. But that didn’t mean he didn’t send you ones implying his dick was out.

For example, in this image, you could imagine him just standing there, naked in front of the mirror, holding his cock proudly. What an asshole.

But still, you couldn’t help but linger on the photo. Picturing the muscles he’d concealed from the photo, how large his arms were and the feel of them as they were tensed as he fucked you senseless. His large body encompassed you completely as he provided you with numerous orgasms.

Great, now you were horny. You hadn’t even been thinking about Mingyu since he pissed you off. But he knew exactly what he was doing sending you a photo like this.

You put the phone down. Determined not to give in and take matters into your own hands.

Settling into your bed, and pulling out your favourite vibrator, you are ready to begin but a new text flashes up on your phone from Mingyu and makes you curious.

Make me.

Make me. As if those words ever lead to anything but badness.

You put away your toy and reached for some sweatpants, it was time to pay Mingyu a visit.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

“Y/N, what a surprise,” Mingyu said when he opened the door, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Shut up,” you respond, pushing your way into his dorm room and heading towards his drawers.

“You know that’s not where I keep the condoms.” He says casually, closing the door.

“I know,” you open the first drawer and pick out a t-shirt. “Sit down.”

Mingyu is confused but he sits on the edge of his bed anyway, enjoying the bossy tone you were using.

You close the drawer and turn to finally take in the sight of him. He was still shirtless, wearing a pair of boxers, presumably thrown on to have a little modesty while opening the door. You let your eyes soak in the view that his cropped photo denied you, if only because you were about to cover it up.

“What game are we playing today?” he asks as you walk over and straddle his lap.

“It’s not a game,” you say, grinding your core down against the bulge in his boxers as you scrunch the shirt up in your hands, “you said to make you put a shirt on, so I am. Put your arms up.”

Mingyu lets out a laugh but does what he’s told. You hadn’t really considered the logistics of this, as when Mingyu raised his arms, it was slightly out of your reach to put the shirt on. But you weren’t going to give up.

You raised yourself up, purposely brushing your whole body against Mingyu’s as your fingertips brushed against his wrists trying to get the t shirt over his hands.

Seeing your struggle, Mingyu lowers his arms a little, allowing you the reach to pull the t shirt down over his arms, you move down his body slowly, stopping to make sure the shirt goes over his head before bringing the rest of the material down over his torso.

“There,” you say when you’re finished.

“Happy?” There’s a small smile playing on his lips.

“Yes,” You shift your hips towards him, his cock pulsing against your core.

“I’m sure you could be happier,” his hands reach for your hips to grind you down against his length again.

You let out an involuntary moan before taking Mingyu’s hands from your hips and placing them on the bed. “Don’t touch me, I’m still annoyed at you.”

“I know, but you came over, so you can’t be that annoyed right?”

“Maybe I’m just horny,”

“Join the club,”

You both sit staring at each other for a few seconds, it wouldn’t be the first time you had taken your frustrations out using Mingyu. But this would be the first time you would be using him to work out the frustration you had against him. And you didn’t think he deserved the pleasure.

“Take your boxers off,” you stand up heading to his bedside drawer to grab a condom.

You return to stand in front of Mingyu and he has done as you asked. He’s still sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his hands, his cock standing proud against his clothed stomach.

You open the condom and roll it over his cock. “Wipe that smile off your face,” you say as you straighten to pull your bottoms off. “This is for me,”

“Sorry,” he replies trying to keep his face neutral, but he was enjoying your bossy side a lot. You usually didn’t complain too much when he took charge of your hookups, in fact, you preferred it because you didn’t have to think too much. The only time you were vocal is when Mingyu was first learning the best way to make you cum, but he was a fast learner.

“And if you cum before me,” you moan as you sink down onto his cock. “I won’t speak to you for two weeks. And that’s no fun for anyone.”

“It’s not,” he agrees, breathing heavily as you begin to ride him. “If I’m good will you forgive me?”

“We’ll see,” you use Mingyu’s shoulders to keep yourself stable as you move your hips in a steady rhythm, making sure the tip of his cock hits your favourite spot every time.

Mingyu does as he’s told and doesn’t interact, he just watches as you take your pleasure from him, trying not to think too hard about how hot you look and how the sensation of your walls clenching around him is driving him crazy. He loved when you were on top, taking charge with your tits bouncing in his face. It’s a shame he couldn’t see them in their full glory, as you had opted to keep your shirt on, but that was probably helping him in his quest to keep it together until you got your release.

It doesn’t take long before you feel your orgasm building, you reach down to stimulate your clit, your other hand digging into Mingyu’s shoulder as the pressure builds. You had never left a mark on him before, that was one of his rules but this time you think you might have pierced his skin through the material of his shirt, but you didn’t care.

“F-fuck Gyu, your cock always feels so good,” you whine as you get closer to the edge, looking down at him. His body tenses as he tries to hold off his own orgasm, the material of his shirt stretched to its limits due to his ridiculous size.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he sighs, closing his eyes, as you bounce faster on his lap.

“Look at me,” you demand, “watch me cum.”

Reluctantly, Mingyu reopens his eyes. His hips involuntarily bucking into you and sending you over the edge. You moan out his name as you cum, one hand still rubbing your clit as you ride out your high. The stimulation and the sight of you proving to be too much, Mingyu cums too, he curses under his breath as his cock pulses within your walls.

Neither of you say anything as you wait for your breathing to return to normal, Mingyu lies flat on his back and you rest your hands on his chest, enjoying the feel of his muscles rising and falling as he breathes. Part of you wants to lay on top of him because his torso always looks so inviting but it would be too intimate so you stay upright.

“Is all forgiven?” Mingyu asks as he sits up, removing the condom after you stand.

“I guess so,” you reach for your discarded clothes. Turns out that taking your frustration out on Mingyu was just what you needed. And you couldn't be sure, but you think he liked that you were a little mean to him.

“So you’ll come over tomorrow night?” He had a wicked grin on his face that caused your stomach to flip.

“No, I don’t think you deserve that.” You say turning your back to him and reaching for the door. Trying to stay composed before you ended up staying longer.

“I'll come to you then,”

You roll your eyes. “I think you've done enough coming recently don't you?”

“It was still after you!”

You laugh despite yourself, “That's true you did hold off. Proud of you.”

“Thanks, it was tough. Ya know, you're really hot when you're mean.”

“Aww does baby have a kink?” You had turned around again and were leaning against the door.

“Shut up,” Mingyu blushes and comes to stand next to you. “I thought we didn't kink shame.”

“And I thought you liked it when I was mean,”

“Touché,” he leans down to kiss you on the cheek. That was another rule, you didn't kiss on the lips. It was silly but somehow it helped you remind yourself that Mingyu wasn't your boyfriend. Yet when he kissed you on the cheek it was the most intimate gesture in the world. “Thanks for coming over,”

“It's not like I wanted to. But you know I can't ignore a challenge.”

“Hmm I don't know seemed like you really wanted it.” He smiled.

“Whatever,” you push him away so you can open the door. It was late and you wanted to go to sleep. “I'll text you?”

“Sounds good,”

“Also if you ever send me another photo like that again I will have to block you. It's full torso or fully clothed. Got it?”

“Got it,”

It’s only a minute later when you get another photo through from Mingyu. This time, it’s a photo of his chest, still covered by the t shirt you had just put on him. My new favourite shirt. He captioned the photo.

You rolled your eyes before leaving him on read. It was taking all your strength not to go back there and get him to wipe the smug grin off his face and rip his shirt while you were at it. But maybe you could revisit the idea when he inevitably came over tomorrow night…

#Mingyu Smut #Mingyu x Reader #SVTHub #WritingMingyu #Kim Mingyu #SVT Fanfic #SVT Smut #College AU #Mingyu #SVT #FWB #x Reader #Fanfic #Mingyu Fanfic

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prettyboykatsuki · 1 year

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I NEED YOU EXCITED, I DON'T WANNA FIGHT IT | Y. OKKOTSU

✵ tags ; established relationship, friends to lovers, afab +fem!reader, forward!reader, back and forth power dynamics, dry-humping, hickies / marking, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, riding. fingering, dirty talk, 18+

✵ wc ; 7.3k (good lord)

✵ a/n ; written with my beloved @princess-okkotsu in mind!! i hope i did your boy justice </3 and thank u for everything literally wouldn't have passed chem w/o you

so not used to have such little warnings on a fic. lol. title is from fire and desire by drake.

✵ synopsis ; yuta wants to do right by you which is why he's so determined to take your relationship slowly. well, he tries too, anyway.

Yuta Okkotsu is a believer of doing things the right way.

He repeats this to himself like a mantra as he hangs out alone in your bedroom. He closes his eyes, elbows resting on the little table, face buried in his palms. Maybe it’s closer to a form of manifestation - like if he says it with enough hooplah it will mean something more than a jumble of words and syllables.

He must clarify that he is trying to do the right thing right now. He is trying so very hard to do the right thing because Yuta Okkotsu wants to remain righteous where possible.

It’s part of his job as a sorcerer, now well into his 20’s and more conscious of the world around him. He’s strong enough to put his money where his mouth is and experienced enough to know that trying to maintain some ethical code is part of staying alive in this business.

And it’s not that Yuta considers himself particularly upright. His friends and colleagues often tell him that he’s a bit unhinged and hard to get a read on. His morals might not always align with greater society, but he never does something that goes against his own beliefs. A lot of which can be summarized quite easily ; anything to defend his comrades.

It really is so important for Yuta to try and be civil in these aspects. Lest he fall into something truly dark. Even he knows what he’s capable of, at least a little.

That’s why he’s left with no choice than burying all of his thoughts of you and using every ounce of energy he has to suppress it as deep as it can go

You know, with all the love that’s influenced his life and all of the years he’s spent learning to be less timid - none of it seems to matter when it comes down to you and him. The logistics of a relationship and the idea of one are two very different things. When it comes to your relationship, he’s been keen in adhering to his strict timeline of milestones. First date, first hand-holding, first deep kiss. It’s a matter of honoring you - because before being boyfriend and girlfriend, you were Yuta’s comrade and companion. Before your relationship status, you're his cherished and valued person.

So because he’s chivalrous. Because he’s romantic. Because he cares about you.

And also because the sheer magnitude of his desires for you perpetually leaves him in a state of distress and disarray. It’s all of the above, all at the same time. And sometimes it leaves him a little overwhelmed.

He barely manages in his daily life but this? This is torturous.

Being in your bedroom unprompted is destroying every ounce of self-restraint he’s built through these last three months. He’s made it through your relentless bullying without giving into his Earthly desires.

It’s just too ideal in a way, being in here. Everything feels like you. There’s pictures of your friends and family around the room. Everything has your scent. Your clothes are littered on the floor and hung over the back of your desk-chair. It’s so you and Yuta loves you and he’s not going to survive being in here despite it all.

It’s embarrassing. Yuta is not the timid teenager he once was. But for all the ways he’s good at standing his ground, his demeanor is all but worthless when it comes down to you.

You’re a few years his senior and you’ve always been a slippery character. He’s enriched by your curiosity of the world. You’re a researcher and archivist of cursed information, coming out of the Kyoto branch. You have plenty of accolades and always manage to teach him something new and come out of difficult things on top.

Mostly, Yuta recognizes all of the good in your heart. He really thinks very highly of you.

There was an obvious passion for your work that Yuta was endeared by in the initial stages of your relationship. Plus you were easy to talk to. You’ve been a good friend to Yuta for years now, ever since you called on him to do some research on him and Rika. And, as the years passed you became closer until one night it hit him that his feelings of admiration were a little closer to something like love.

And with big, wet tears in his eyes (and a fair bit of liquor in his system) he blubbered about his feelings for you. He isn’t sure what reaction he was expecting at the time. You were happy which was great, but there was also something so lax about it all. Yuta remembers it so vividly. The way you waltzed up to him, tucked some hair behind his ears and kissed him gingerly with all the confidence in the world. Like it mattered but it didn’t. Like nothing could be more obvious than your feelings for each other.

“I’m pretty crazy about you too, Okkotsu-san.”

After asking if that meant you were dating like the bumbling, lovesick fool he is - you officially began going out as a couple. And at first, it was smooth sailing. It wasn’t too different from your usual hangouts.

Eventually though, you had pointed out that it doesn’t really feel like you were dating. Suggested that maybe sleeping together would help break the ice a little. That was what started this moral dilemma.

Being honest, it wasn’t like Yuta hadn’t considered it. What thoughts he cooked up while alone in the sanctity of his bedroom is between him and the heavens only. It was just the way you suggested it. You saying it made it all feel so real. And Yuta wasn’t sure how to deal with that. He wants to cherish you so much that he felt like he couldn’t consider your offer too lightly.

And he told you as much, hand in yours and red-faced to which you only blew some hair out of his eyes and laughed. A simple okay, a nod, and a kiss.

Of course, if everything had been smooth sailing this would be a different thing altogether. While Yuta had declined sleeping with you too soon, you had absolutely no plans to make his life easy. He’s not sure how much of it is on purpose. Knowing you, probably a lot. You’re a smart girl, after all.

So all of your bending over and tongue kissing before going home and selfies that just border on boudoir are probably very purposeful. But he’s endured it all. He should cherish you more. He’s been determined to not give in.

The fact he’s all but ready to blow his load over just being in your room makes him feel pathetic. And maybe he is, a little. But only for you.

Yuta likes to think of himself as a collected individual. Really. He knows being this worked up over something as innocuous as his girlfriends room is ridiculous. He knows he’s being ridiculous.

But he really, really wants to uphold his beliefs here. So he’s stiff, sitting with his hands clasped and holding it together just barely.

He practically jumps out of his skin when you return to your room with a tray of refreshments.

“Woah, Yuta. You okay?”

He turns around to look at you. A mistake, apparently. His eyes land on the sight of your bare legs before he forces himself to meet your eyes. You’re so pretty to him. Always so beautiful without any effort.

“Huh? Yeah. Sorry, just got lost in thought.”

You put the tray down on the table in front of him before sitting on the edge of your bed - facing him. The distance between you is minimal. You reach out to pet the top of his head with the palm of your hand, scratching his jaw tenderly. Yuta feels loved by the touch.

“You sure? Looks like you saw a ghost.”

Your genuine worry makes his spine feel like it’ll melt. He puts his hands over yours, rubbing his cheek against your palm.

“Promise I’m okay. Just—it's nothing serious.”

“Mm. Even if it’s nothing serious, I wanna know what stuff you’re worried about, ‘kay? So tell me if you want.”

He feels unsteady but so happy.

“Thank you, my love.”

“Yeah, of course. You wanna keep sitting on the floor or…?”

The minute you ask him, he feels the hair stand up on his neck.

“The bed…?”

You give him a look of confusion before you break out into a knowing grin.

“Oh, I forgot. I mean to remain chaste, my liege. Just wanna cuddle a bit.”

“Are you making fun of me?” He asks, not masking the pout in his voice.

You tilt your head to one side, leaning back on your palms.

“A little,” You say mischievously, shrugging “I’m used to your lifestyle of celibacy.”

He frowns at you. “It’s not like that, I just want to—“

“I just want to cherish you because I love you and want you for more than sex yadda yadda yadda. I know. And I respect your wishes even if I think it’s silly.” You say, taking the words right out of his mouth. His frown deepens.

“It’s not silly to me.” He says, almost petulantly. At this, you grab his face in your hands which catches him off-guard. You knock your forehead against his, bent over to do it.

“I know that too, you dummy. The point is that I’m not trying to get in your pants right now.”

He can’t help but smile, pulling away to kiss at your wrist. You giggle.

“Well, what do you want?”

“To be wrapped up in each other like otters.”

“So romantic.”

“Right? So get up here.”

He gives in sooner rather than later. You scoot till your back is along the wall next to your bed and Yuta wastes no more time in joining you. Your bed is crazy comfortable. Just laying it in makes him want to fall asleep almost immediately. He gets cozy before directing his gaze to you in front of him. He feels like he’s gonna throw up and the only thing that’ll come out is his heart. You give him a look of amusement.

“Enjoying the view?” You tease. He laughs, leaning forward to tuck his face into your neck.

“Yeah. Smells like you,”

“So cute.”

“Don’t know how to feel about being called cute.” He says honestly. He peers up at you and you’re giggling and he can feel his heart rate sky-rocket. You twirl a piece of his hair around your index finger.

“You’re cute and cool and handsome. Better?”

“Yeah. Yes.”

“Mm,” You respond. He looks at you as your expression drifts off somewhere. He can’t take his eyes away from your face “Sorry you had to stay over.”

“It’s fine. It’d be a shame if you didn’t get anything to look over while we were there. If you make any breakthroughs, it’d be good for Gojo-sensei.”

“You still call him that even though you graduated so many years ago?”

He flushes slightly.

“Force of habit. My point stands.”

“Mhm. Thanks for being so supportive. I didn’t think it was that late, y’know? I would’ve tried to hurry if I knew,” You say thoughtfully “But I like having you over.”

He gives you a once over as he pulls away, eyes flitting to your lips. You give him a small grin.

“Kiss me.”

He looks at you apologetically.

“That’s not fair. We can’t kiss? Making out doesn’t count as intimate relations, Yuta.”

“Okay, but it can lead to them.”

“If it’s that serious, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Wait, no.”

“Then kiss me.”

He sighs.

“Just kissing, okay?”

“Okay, you monk.”

He laughs at the comment before pressing his lips to yours tenderly. You have no such intent of leaving it that way - your hand on immediately on the nape of his neck. The softness of your tongue makes Yuta feel like there’s fizz in his head - like the water inside of him is seltzer. He thought you would at least try to give him some mercy.

He probably shouldn’t expect that from his favorite girl. He pulls away, out of breath. A little line of saliva breaks off between you. Your grin is eye-catching, like glass in the sun. Yuta wouldn’t mind burning in the magnitude of your light.

“Just kissing,” He emphasizes, trying to be firm. You hum, hand on his cheek. You rub your thumb on his lip tenderly, looking at him square in the eyes. He’s stronger than this, he swears.

“We are just kissing though?”

“Baby.” He frowns. A laugh bubbles up from your stomach and he’s so entranced by it he nearly forgets what he’s trying to convince you of.

“Since when is making out too naughty? Teenagers do stuff like that, Yuta. We’re grown-ups.”

“That’s the whole problem.” He says back in faux exasperation. You look like you’re going to kiss him again, but you lean into his ear instead. Your breath is warm and ticklish against his skin.

“Yuta,” You murmur with such clear intent he feels himself break down under the weight “Can’t we have sex, hm?”

Blood rushes down to his dick so fast he’s embarrassed. He stares at you as you pull away, a look in your eyes that makes him want to collapse. Of course he does. He wants to have so much sex with you so often it’s starting to drive him up a wall. Is there anyone in the world other than him masochistic enough to turn down the offer? He’s doubtful to say the least.

“I want to,” He admits. You beam and nod. Your hand slides down to squeeze his waist. He swallows thickly.

“Yeah? Then why can’t we?”

“I just..don’t want to rush things,” He replies with as much conviction as he possibly can. The sincerity must reach you because you soften a little “We’ve known each other for a long time. And it was already hard to get here. I just want to make sure it’s right.”

“You’re so thoughtful,” You murmur to him, running over his hip bone with your thumb “And that makes you really sexy, you know?”

“What if it gets all messed up?”

“Our relationship is stronger than that, yeah. It can withstand a handjob.”

He groans at your vulgarity before laughing.

“I’m being serious!”

“I know and that’s so sweet of you. But I really, really don’t think it’ll be that bad if we have sex. We might fuck like rabbits for a few days but that’s not really the end of the world.”

He feels heat creep up his next as you nuzzle your nose against his, whispering softly.

“And doesn’t that sound nice? Cooped up in this little room, fucking each others brains out. Just you and me.”

He feels his dick steel against his will. He looks at you seriously, a fire in his expression.

“You’re being unfair.”

“Who, me? Never. I’m just telling you what I think.”

He groans in complaint. Is this the right thing to do? He doesn’t think so. But it’s not like he doesn’t want to. He really, really wants to have sex and there’s never been such a perfect opportunity. You’re a little too good at turning him on and he’s a little too pent up to think about it more clearly. It feels like the only thing he can think about, a side-effect of this whole conundrum. There is a right way to go about this and he can’t say for certain yours isn’t the one.

Plus the vivid picture you’ve painted of the two of you fucking in a room for hours is making his whole body burn up with lust. Fuck, the things he could do to you in all that time without it ever being enough.

Yuta didn’t know he was aching for you so badly until he was this close to having you.

“Baby,” He can feel how deep his voice is getting. It’s taking all of his strength to keep it in.

“How do you want me? Tell me. You’ve been thinking about me right?”

“Always,” He confesses, staring at you without any restraint “Always thinking of you.”

“Doing what?”

Oh. This is…

Oh.

“I’ve never seen you naked.”

“Then you daydream about seeing me naked? How tame.”

“It’s more than that, it’s—I want to make you feel good. You’re so good to me. And I wanna…”

You stare at him. You’re so cheeky.

“You wanna?”

“Want you to feel good. But because of me. All because of me.”

A wave of heat passes through him. He looks at you and you look...different. You look turned on, fingers carding through his hair. Right now all Yuta can think about is how much he wants. A word with so much weight behind it he can hardly keep up. God doesn’t Yuta want you more than he’s ever wanted anything.

The room feels like it’s hotter than it was a few seconds last. A thick tension spreads over everything like jam. Yuta is too dazed to do anything. He can only watch as you sit up. You guide him to lay on his back and climb on top of him with ease. Your thighs feel warm and soft as you straddled him, taking his hands to put them on your waist.

He slides them up underneath your shirt lightly, enough to feel the warmth of your skin on his calloused fingers. Your eyes lock as you lean forward the slightest bit, caging Yuta in with your hand next to his head.

“So possessive,” You tease, seeing right through him like you usually do. He really is. He thought he was a little better at hiding it “Already all yours, Yuta.”

That makes his dick twitch. You must feel it because you laugh at him about it and his hands grip even tighter. He’s gonna lose his mind, being swept up by you so easily. He’s gotten so used to forfeiting restraint. Always goes in head first because that’s how cowards have to learn to fight. But he’s forgotten how to hold back. How to suppress.

Right now, he feels like an animal. He feels like a restless hound dog, straining against the spiked collar he’s tried to keep himself in place. What does that make you, he wonders?

In an attempt at transparency, he looks at you and says “I want you so much.”

And your reply is about all the permission he needs.

“Then take me,”

Yuta heeds your words and takes. It’s easy to flip you both over from where you are. He mumbles an apology as you yelp in surprise - and he hopes you’ll forgive him for his impatience. He’s been picturing this for months now. He knows what he wants, and that’s you on your back with him on top of you - making you feel so fucking good you can’t stand it. He slots his legs between yours, hovering over you as your bodies press into each other.

You wrap your arms around Yutas neck with ease and he leans in to kiss you passionately. Despite where you are, it’s clear you're helping set the pace. Yuta is eager to follow. It starts off slow enough but when you pull away once, you're opening your mouth enough to let him in deeper. You stick your tongue out and Yuta follows suit. Everything is so hot he feels like it’ll burn, and you taste like mint toothpaste. He likes swapping spit with you like this, the messy way the drool runs down his chin and yours like you can’t get enough for each other.

He has no idea how long you stay like that. Just kissing is a dangerous game. The nip of your mouth and the press of your incisors in his lower lip leave him shuddering. His hard cock is pressed against your abdomen, and he can’t help himself but hump into the soft plush of your tummy. Even through the stiff material of his jeans he can feel you.

He quivers and whimpers into your mouth but you swallow the noise with delight. Your fingers find themself at the nape of his hand reaching up, tugging at the root. You pull away to give him a chance to breathe. He sounds pathetic, he knows it, but fuck he can’t hold it in anymore. Your voice is cool and collected yet rich and heady. It feels like a salve to his raw nerves, calming to him. He closes his eyes and humps into you and everything feels like it’ll disappear. Yuta just wants to give into his base needs. He wants to be all yours as much as he wants you to be all his and everything is so tangled up in his mind.

“That feel good, Yuta?”

“Y-yeah. Yes. Oh, yes.”

You giggle at him a little and Yuta looks up at you. Look at the swell of your lips and the flush and sheen on your skin. Too much, too much, too much.

But not enough at the same time, he rubs his cock against you again, harder.

“So pent up,” You comment smoothly and Yuta groans in agreement “Why don’t I help you a little?”

Unsure of what you mean, he stares at you hazily. You push him off, making him stand to his knees and he watches you as your hands come to the ends of your shirt. You pull it off over your head and toss it somewhere. You have nothing on underneath. His mouth dries out almost completely. Bare skin of your shoulders and the curve of your neck and your chest so open. Your nipples are hard against the cool air, standing to attention.

Your b0dy is so much sexier than he could’ve conjured up in his head. The real thing doesn’t even compare, and the way you move as you take off the rest is so fucking mesmerizing. Yuta watches you take off your pants next - you put your legs up to slide them off.

There’s not a single part of you that Yuta doesn’t want to claim for himself. He traces the outline of your legs, the bend of your knee and the arch of your foot. He should worship you, after all - he was right for trying to restrain it before. If he had this in the beginning, he’s afraid of what kind of person he might become. He’s scared of it even now.

Yuta is of course the type of man to get sick on his own devotion. He’s always been like that. That’s what the rings on his hands always mean. He wants to make himself sick on you.

Nothing could be more intense than just watching you undress, he doesn't think. You toss your shorts somewhere, but leave your panties on. Yuta still has his clothes on. The only barrier between you now is a thin layer of cotton. There’s a damp spot on it. He can’t stop his hand from reaching out, pressing into it with his thumb as gently as he can. You gasp. His eyes go wide.

“It’s okay,” You assure, a smile on your face “Just wasn’t expecting it.”

He hums, dumbstruck, and smooths his thumb over the seam. There’s something salacious about the boundary itself. The material that’s keeping him from just taking you.

“C-can you leave them on..? For a bit?” He asks. You blink twice. Even if you’re confused, there’s not any judgment. Yuta really does love you.

“Uh-huh. If you want me too,”

You give him the floor this time, Yuta thinks. He takes his shirt off too. He doesn’t take his jeans off completely, though. Only unzips them, pushing them down past his boxers to give him some breathing room. And with that he’s back on top of you. He presses a gentle kiss to your lips but moves down towards your jaw. The little fluttery sigh that leaves you makes everything close in around him. Like it’s only you two in the entire world. He leaves them down your neck, down your collarbone and sternum. Warm open mouth kisses trying all over every inch of you.

His hands shake as he reaches out for your chest. You chuckle and reach for him. Guide them to squeeze your tits firm, a cheeky look in your eye. He tries to take more confidence in it now. Gropes the fat between his fingers, palms over your nipples in appreciation. He’s entranced by it, pushing them together and teasing the hardened buds with the pads of his fingers.

“So pretty,” He mumbles, mostly to himself “You’re so pretty,”

“You’re pretty too, Yuta.”

He can feel a blush crawl up his skin. He ducks his head down to take your nipples into his mouth. You let out a soft moan of pleasure that encourages him to suck harder on one and use his fingers to tease you where his mouth can’t reach. Your sighs are shaky and you're gently losing your composure.

He wants to shatter you completely.

He grabs your thighs and encourages you to wrap your legs around his waist. And you do with his guidance, a well of desire about to burst within him. He adjusts until his cock is snug against your clothed cunt. A broken oh, leaves your lips and Yuta humps into you, shifting until he hits the sweet spot. Your voice sounds again, pitchy and melodic like a wind chime and that’s when Yuta knows he has it.

He has you right where he wants you now. Bodies pressed into each other and so involved, so together. Yuta can feel you everywhere. He’s always been in sync with you but every notch is turned to ten. The shallow rise and fall of your stomach, the slightest tenseness in your spine that melt away when he gives you a little attention. He has you in his grasp but he wants to hold onto you tighter. He feels like he’s been struck by lightning, the way his nerves are revved up.

He focuses on where your lower bodies meet, tongue poked between his lips and furrow in his brow. Drives his clothed, hard cock against your cunt, catching the crown into your clit until you’re shaking underneath him. There’s something so primal about it that Yuta can’t take it. He can’t think clearly anymore, lost in the feeling of dull pleasure. If it feels so good like this, being inside you might be too much. You’re both naked mostly except for where you both need each other. So close in proximity that Yuta can hear each of your short pants. Erratic and almost thoughtlessly driven by one single thing, pleasing you. Feeling each other, all wrapped up together. There’s something romantic about the mutual desperation.

Drawing out those moans as he sucks at your tits, making you feel how hard he is. How pent up and needy and fucking horny he is all for you.

Just humping your soft, sweet little cunt through your panties makes Yuta want to risk everything he’s got. The push and pull of too much and not enough at the same time. It’s so fucking euphoric. Your fabric keeps wetter and wetter, and Yuta doesn’t know if it’s you or him - his pre-cum dribbling through his boxers. Mixing together so that there’s less friction than there should be, material all soaked through and tacky.

He can feel your pussy pulse and tremble. Your spine goes stiff and Yuta pulls away to look at you. You’re beautiful. You’re on edge, in complete bliss and so fucking beautiful.

“Oh, oh, Yuta - shit, like that. G-gonna, gonna,”

He doesn’t know what overtakes him, but he babbles on pulling away.

“Cum for me, please—fuck, baby, p-please, need it,”

You cum the first time just like that. For Yuta, humping each other like two lovesick teenagers. All for him you get all broken. He can’t help but burn the image of you underneath in his head forever. He needs to see it all again.

“Oh, that felt so fucking good,” The praise feels like it’s being injected into his bloodstream“You make me feel sho good,”

The slight slur in your words and praise all together makes him too happy. He kisses you, sloppy and lovedrunk, tongues touching and teeth chattering.

“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted,” Yuta says with as much conviction as any one man could have. You laugh so loud it makes him smile. “I don’t wish well for anyone you dated before me.” And you laugh again even louder.

“You sound polite even when you’re threatening people.” You say with nothing but affection. Yuta wants more. He wants you. Even with this quiet lull, he’s thinking about how he can get you to cum again.

He nudges his nose to your cheek, kissing the corner of your mouth before he talks.

“I want you to do it again,” He states, slow and steady, trying to feel out your willingness “And then I want to fuck you,”

“Wanna fuck me after you make me a mess?” You say, much more bluntly than he has. You’re not wrong “Are you a sadist after all, Yuta?”

“You look good when you’re messy. ‘s not my fault.” He replies, a little bite to his words. This delights you to the point he's proud. He does his best not to look uncool and this one time he’s succeeded.

“Make a mess of me, Yuta,” You encourage, probably because you know he needs it. And he does “I want it.”

“Yeah,” Comes his reply, as he pulls himself off of you “Me too,”

The pace slows down now. The room smells of sex and Yuta can still feel the blood rushing in his ears but nothing so frantic. He lays you back, your legs undoing from behind him and resting. Yuta kisses your sternum first, a wave of emotion running through him. He puts his hands on your sides, sliding them down to meet your hips and squeezing tight.

He kisses his down your body like it’s nothing to be embarrassed about. He can feel you curl in above him - not completely. But you seem a little astonished, and he'd be lying if he said it didn’t make him feel like he accomplished something. He works his way lower slowly, rubbing small circles into your skin as often as he can. Caressing you and committing your body to memory. He wants you to feel him as much as he’s feeling you, to feel his touch. The tension in the air is strengthened by his silence.

If he were saying anything it’d be something like this. Like can you feel it? how much i love you? or i want all of you. Things he can’t often muster up the strength to say. He’s good with his words but not good enough to communicate all of it so bluntly. Yuta is brave in areas other than love. Sometimes your adoration makes all the words clog in his throat. This is better for him, the physicality brings him peace of mind.

He likes how you feel. Your skin is much softer when he compares it to his, feels so different and more plush and comfortable. Yuta likes taking you in his hands and kneading the skin gently enough to relax you. Lower and lower, a trail of wet marks until he’s close to your clothed cunt. He stares at the sticky material, kissing it feather light before redirecting his attention to your thighs.

He starts again, at the bend of your knee - and works his way inward. He’s rougher now, taking time to mark up your inner thigh with precision. Yuta can’t help himself, placing kisses in the last places his teeth bit you. He does it again and again, up along one thigh and then moving to the other until you’re covered in them.

You’re trembling with anticipation. A sense of contentment washes over Yuta as his breath fans over your cunt, so completely soaked the fabrics a different color. His tongue runs over the material, a shameless moan of pleasure leaving his mouth. You arch your back, hands reaching to take root in his hair. The sensation of tension on his scalp makes his cock twitch. It’s salty and a little bitter, the mix of his pre-cum and yours altogether. Yuta goes to do it again anyway. The mess of it gets him excited, unconsciously rubbing into the sheets underneath him.

“O-oh, Yuta.”

He shivers, hands planing over the tops of your thighs as he brings him down close to him.

“Yeah, yeah baby. Just me and you,”

A soft laugh leaves your mouth. Yuta can feel how worked up you are. You’re quiet and tense. Some part of him wants to leave you like that waiting, but the other part of him wants to give you everything you’ve ever asked for. He gives into the latter, because that’s what he wants more. Rolls the fabric off of your legs with a deep sigh, a pleased hum. He loves the way you smell, the scent of sex and arousal mixed with the fancy soaps you keep in your bathroom. Your pussy is as pretty as you are, a sheen of arousal all along your slit. Your clit peeks through, swelled from need. Yuta kisses it without thinking.

He starts slow. Lays his tongue flat against the seam of your cunt before dragging it up. The taste of you covers his mouth, tangy and slightly sweet - Yuta can’t get enough of you. He moans in appreciation, repeating the gesture as he pulls your pussy close. His nose bumps into your sex. He peers up at you with his lashes. You’re so pretty it makes him want to please. He repeats this over and over - licking at your clit with enthusiasm. Your clit is hard and needy, throbbing against the soft, smooth muscle of his tongue as he gains a sort of rhythm. He gauges your reaction when he tries something new, adding pressure until you’re squirming underneath him. When you start growing noisier, Yuta knows he’s hit the right pace.

And he stays like that, your pussy soaking his mouth and chin. He adjusts himself slightly, rubbing his fingers between your folds. You let out a soft oh above him, making him want to laugh. He keeps at it, his fingers sliding far enough to tease your entrance. Your hole is twitching without him having done much at all, his middle finger teasing and prodding.

“Don’t t-tease so much,” You pant.

Yuta nearly blows his load listening to you talk like that. He didn’t think you could be so cute. He listens though, pushing his middle finger into you with ease. It doesn’t take too much effort. Your insides are so incredibly wet for him. Your walls are so soft and inviting, syrupy to the touch. Yuta loves feeling them. He gives you time to adjust to the new sensation, fucking in and out slow enough that the tension melts. He gets knuckle deep with his middle finger and when it doesn’t seem like you’re tense anymore - he goes and adds another.

He does both in tandem - and there’s a period where it’s all a bunch of sensation for you. Eventually it stops being just a feeling, turns into pleasure. He curls his fingers up against you hard, rubbing the soft and spongy area and he can feel you practically lurch forward. Your spine arches, mouth dropped open in a soft ‘o’. Another feeling of pride spreads through his chest, his whole body. He wants you to let go again just like this. While he fingers your weepy cunt and with your clit in his mouth - he wants to see how far he can push. How wet you can get before he ever gets inside.

Yuta isn’t one for competition or ego. He’s always been easy-going. But something about you being underneath him like this, moaning for him like this - makes him feel like he should put in a little more effort to prove himself. He wants to make you feel so good, wants to see your composure break down steadily. He wants you praise him for it, to fuck each other like animals in the thereafter of your second orgasm. He pushes towards that goal steadfastly, and soon enough your body catches up with him.

Yuta can practically feel your stomach tighten. You let out a noise, a string of mismatched syllables like a warning. Yuta only hums in encouragement, keeping his pace exactly the same. Feeling it is incredible. His fingers can feel the way your walls tighten up so hard and the tremors of the aftermath.

Your back curves in a C as you cum, hard for him and he can feel it. He can feel you cum. He can see you, see the pleasure crash into you like a tidal wave. A second. Yuta made you cum twice in a row and he’s already itching to do it a third.

You practically pry him off as you ride the wave of your high. You sigh deeply, and Yuta licks his fingers. He waits for your adoration, pleased to receive as you pull him up for a kiss.

“You’re so fucking good, Yuta,” You say and Yuta feels his resolve crumble. He needs to fuck you immediately “So, so good to me baby.”

He whimpers into your mouth. “I need you.”

You laugh breathlessly, your hand reaching between your bodies to squeeze his cock. Yuta shudders and you giggle to yourself.

“Yeah. Bet you’re feeling pent up, Yuta. How about I treat you this time? That okay?”

“Treat me?”

“By riding you,” You say, smiling at him. He gets chills from the offer “You want that?”

“Oh. Oh, fuck - please. Please?”

You smile at him.

“Lay on your back, sweet boy.”

Sweet boy. He swallows thickly but does as you say. Lays back and watches you climb over him a second time tonight - this time with a much more obvious intent. He can’t stop thinking about how gorgeous he finds you - no matter how many times he sees you, it’s not easy to get used to.

You sit up on his lap, naked and beautiful, your hangs tugging down his boxers just enough to free his cock. He hisses at the sensation of air, then moans because your hand squeezed around the shaft. Yuta watches, bewitched, by how you spit into the palm of your hands and let it drip down onto his cock. You stroke until he’s covered in it, saliva making a mess of him. When he’s all wet, you scoot forward just slightly. A hand ends up on his chest as you pull your hips up.

Guiding the tip to your hole, you sink down on Yuta finally. He can only recognize loosely that there’s no condoms to be seen but he doesn’t find it in himself to care. There’s a slight sensation of tension that quickly gives away to nothing but slick, white-hot pleasure. You feel amazing. It’s not like anything he’s ever felt in his entire life and each time you drop down another inch - he’s biting his cheek trying not to cum immediately. That’d be such a waste, even if you’ve promised to fuck like rabbits - Yuta wants to make this last long.

You lower yourself steadily until all of him is inside. Your expression is slightly pinched, and your whole body trembles before you finally seem comfortable. You lean forward, your hand next to Yuta’s head as you look at him.

“Cum when you feel like you need to, ‘kay?”

Yuta just swallows.

Before he gets a chance to adjust to the feeling, you pick your hips and slam them back down on his cock without breaking a sweat. Yuta nearly screams, his hands immediately shooting to your hips to try and slow you down. You give him a wry grin, He almost wants to plead for your mercy.

“Want me to go slower?”

“Please be nice.”

You giggle but heed his request. Repeating the motion but slower as promised, you rock yourself steadily onto Yuta’s cock. The pace is controlled and smooth, a rhythmic pass of your hips over and over. Your insides feel like they’ll melt him completely, make him liquid from the inside out. You’re picturesque riding him, tits bouncing and leaned forward enough that Yuta can see the concentration on your face. He watches you find your own pleasure in it too - somewhere half-way between grinding and bouncing that makes you look so good. He feels so incredible like this.

He moves his hands so they’re grabbing your ass and only moves with you slightly. Not enough to change the pace, but to meet you. The room is filled with the sound of skin hitting skin - a tacky smack as your bounces hard enough to hit Yutas thighs. Something about is so vulgar, but something about is so sensual. He can feel every nerve in his body standing on edge. Your hand moves gently between your bodies to tease your clit as you ride and Yuta can’t help but be impressed by your stamina. He feels so spoiled. Feels so mind-numbingly good he wants to go brain dead while you drain for everything he’s got.

Your expression is blissed out as you hit your stride, absolutely debauched. He can feel you again, another rush of arousal. He’s getting better at telling when you’re close. Your pussy is so sloppy all for him, because of him. So messy that it’s dripping down his cock onto his balls, all over the sheets underneath you. He can feel you clench in anticipation - the sudden spasming in the build up.

“Gonna cum again and I want you cum right after me, yeah baby? Can you do that?”

Yuta groans.

“Pleasepleaseplease.” Is all he can make out. You laugh, breathy. Your pace is still the same as you rub your clit. The third time you cum is less intense. It’s a shorter wave, a softer sort of orgasm that seems to ease you more than it does anything else. Even still, you clench around his cock hard - getting so much wetter than you were a minute ago.

It’s in the tremors that Yuta finally feels in touch with himself again. He loses himself completely. Finally giving into the sensation that’s been drowning him, He feels it in his entire lower body. Every atom of him finally catching up to the high of the release. It’s so intense when he opens his mouth nothing comes out. His eyes shoot open then go back closed. The coil in his stomach loosens more slowly at first than all at once, like a car crash. When Yuta finally cums he sees nothing but white stars in his vision. He can’t scream, can’t speak - so he holds onto you tight and finishes to the sound of your gentle coaxing. Your voice is shot hoarse as you coo to him.

“That’s it baby, cum for me. That’s it, there you go.” Echoes around in his head. Cum spurts out of him, thick and hot in your walls and he doesn’t even try to pull out as he goes completely limp underneath you.

When he opens his eyes back up again, you're both just as ragged as each other. Yuta can’t stop himself from laughing. He hugs you tight to his chest as you lay on top of him - naked bodies and tangled limbs.

“I love you,” Yuta says blearily. You laugh.

“I love you too, Yuta.”

After you and Yuta manage the energy to shower, you find yourselves back in bed. It’s late when you’re finally ready to sleep, being in the same positions you were before. Only this time with new sheets.

Yuta lets you into his arms, wrapping them around you as you nuzzle into his chest.

“So. Was it worth breaking your rules?”

Yuta can’t help but break out into laughter at your question. He nods his head, a flush on his expression.

“Yeah. Yeah it was.”

#yuta x reader #yuta okkotsu x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #yuta okkotsu smut #writing tag #i was NOT going to post this until i woke up later #but due to unforseen and horrendous circumstances i am alive #i wrote this for miss aleks i am literally so grateful for u kdsjknkjsd thank u sm #i hope it is okay!! its been a while since ive written him

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buckets-and-trees · 2 months

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Prepare For Takeoff

Title: Prepare For Takeoff Characters/Pairings: soft dark!Mafia!Andy Barber x female!reader Word Count: 1.5k

Content Warnings: vaginal fingering, dubious existing engagement

Logistical Notes: Another piece early in the days of the I'm Your Man AU.

Author Note: I started this AU when I was at an airport, and my recent trip had me thinking of these two again, and it had me wishing I were Andy's to spoil.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

While you aren’t used to being chauffeured to every aspect of your life (nor did you want to get used to it, the driver and vehicle yet another element that Andy insisted on in the new life he inserted you into), you know a security checkpoint where your driver had to stop and speak to someone else is not part of the typical route back to the palatial Barber Estate. You sit up straighter in your seat, looking first to the men in the front, but neither of them give anything away, your bodyguard Shep’s face is the same stoic expression as ever, and your driver Mark only glances into the rear view mirror to meet your eyes briefly.

Your brows furrow and you look out the window. You can only see large white buildings on either side of the SUV, and the overwhelmingly industrial feel has you at a loss for guessing the where and why of your location.

That is until you reach the end of the building and the car pulls around the corner. Now you see these large white industrial walls make up the sides of a row of aircraft hangars. While your jaw doesn’t drop, your mouth opens slightly. The jaw dropping moments as a character in the life of Andy Barber are so frequent, but you are starting to control your reactions a bit more.

The SUV pulls up smoothly to the side of a private jet, sleek and black, the late afternoon sun shining off its metal sides. Mark stops the vehicle, and as Shep opens your door, you are not surprised to see you are stepping out exactly onto a long, blue carpet that leads from the SUV to the bottom of a set of white stairs. At the top of them, Andy emerges from the plane, nodding to you. You smooth down the front of your clothing and glare up at him.

“What is this?” You call up loudly.

“You know what it is.”

“Where are we going?”

“Away for the weekend. Now, don’t be difficult, sweetheart, you’re going to love this.”

You feel a sting in your eyes but quickly blink it away.

You hate this because you know he is right.

Yet again he will undoubtedly give you exactly what you want and go beyond what you could even imagine for it, but because he wants to, not because you want any of it.

That is the constant curse in this relationship.

Everything you want, but all your choices stolen from you before you can make them.

You concentrate on taking deep breaths as you ascend the staircase, mustering the strength that you will need for this. You have to armor yourself against his charm and his cunning. Every moment with him is dangerous.

“I thought it was time to take you away, make you forget the everyday. I know you’ve been under a lot of stress.”

You blink, open your mouth, then shut it again. He is the source of the stress, but you don’t trust what would happen if you said that.

He smirks, then sweeps you into a kiss that immediately sends tingles all through your body, from where his lips press insistently against yours, tongue teasing into your mouth, to the hand he plants possessively onto you hip and the other on your back, pressing you flush against him, down to your toes, legs feeling unstable as he takes your breath away. You are helpless but to cling to his shoulders and kiss him back, because your traitorous body willingly surrenders to him, damn near craves him.

He finally lets you breathe again when you tap against his chest and turn your head, gasping for air.

He kisses your cheek, then your neck just beneath your ear.

Getting your breath back, you give a small huff. “So, what? I don’t even get to pack? You just have whatever I need for the flight and when we get wherever we’re going, I’ll just arrive to a closet full of new clothes and accessories?”

“Naturally.” You can feel his smirk against your skin for a moment before he bites at your delicate flesh.

“This is insane.” You push away from him and step through the open door of the jet.

“It’s not insane,” he says, stalking close behind you.

The interior of the plane is sleek, minimal, but the flavor of the furniture and decor evoke the same feeling as the common spaces of his estate with lush leather and dark wood.

The fact that there’s furniture…

“It’s not normal.”

Hand to your back, Andy ushers you further into the plane. “You’re never going to be subjected to normal again in your life.”

“But what if I liked normal?”

He sits on a leather loveseat and pulls you down immediately next to him, nearly in his lap. He counters, “You liked needing to get to the airport early, check your bags or haul them through security with your three-ounces-or-less limit on liquids, take off your shoes, and trek through the terminals to your gate?”

You sigh and look straight ahead.

He chuckles and beckons over a gentleman who offers a tray of drinks.

“Bourbon or champagne?”

“Thank you,” Andy says, and takes a glass of the dark bourbon.

“No, thank you,” you decline.

“The captain says we are clear for take off on your word, Mr. Barber.”

Andy nods. “Wheels up then. We’ll take dinner in ninety minutes. You can leave us until that point.”

“Call if you need anything, sir.”

You hear the click of a door as the man disappears. Andy takes a slow drink, then presses the glass to your lips, forcing you to take a sip before he sets the glass aside.

You feel the jet begin to move and then turn toward the runway.

“You deserve more than normal,” Andy says, eyes on you, returning to your conversation from moments before.

“Andy…” you hedge.

“I will whisk you away anywhere in the world. I’ll give you everything you want. You’re mine to spoil. You’re going to live a beautiful life with me.”

“Andy,” you start again, but unsure how to counter.

He growls your name and yanks you abruptly into his lap. He cuts any argument you were about to launch into by biting at your lower lip and grinding you down onto his hard bulge.

You whimper and throw your head back.

Andy assaults your bared neck with heated kisses. He knows he’ll have you a pliant mess for him to slake his lust in a matter of moments.

You know it, too.

And you know he’ll overwhelm you with pleasure of your own, never a selfish lover even though every other bit of him is selfish.

His fingers slip under the fabric covering your core without hesitation, and he strokes your labia, gathering more and more of your arousal as the plane picks up speed. Slow strokes back and forth, back and forth. The pad of his forefinger circles your clit and you bite back a whimper.

“Mmm, you know I love those noises you make.” He circles your bundle of nerves again, this time with his thumb, letting two of his fingers dip just slightly into your slick channel. “Give me what I want,” he coos, coaxing with another circle, and another, and you finally break, moaning openly for him.

“That’s it, sweetheart, let me know how good I make you feel.”

He pumps his fingers full into the knuckle now, and not like anyone else you’d ever been with intimately before. It’s only been a few weeks, but Andy has taken every opportunity to become a master of your body and coax and command pleasure out of every inch of you. He knows just how much pressure to apply when fucking you with his fingers, and he pushes into that spongy spot at the front of you walls insistently, repeatedly as the jet leaves the ground, making you cry out and shake on an abrupt orgasm.

You sink forward, hanging your head on his shoulder, but it’s only the first orgasm he plans to ply from your body on this flight. He draws your left hand to his mouth, and hums as he places a kiss first against the band of your engagement ring on your finger and then into your palm, before trailing his lips to your wrist. He eases you down to the floor, and you lay back and watch as he shucks off his pants above you before descending down to sheath himself inside you next, demanding more.

And as he fucks you there, then on another of the chairs, then takes you back to the sleeping quarters for yet more, you bend to his will and his demands and his lust, overcome with everything he is and everything he makes you feel, lost in the complexity of what he’s confined you into. His spoiled and ruined sweetheart.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

#andy barber #andy barber smut #andy barber x reader #mafia au #chris evans characters #soft dark andy barber #I'm your man #aspen wrote something

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sarawritestories · 4 months

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Unwavering Presence Chapter 4

Cassian X Archeron Sister (Reader)

Summary: Y/N comes to after being attacked and formerly meets the inner circle. Cassian and Y/N finally begin training, and he shows her around what he calls the heart of the Night Court.

Content Warning: Nightmares, flashbacks to under the mountain, Fluff

Word Count: 4.1

Chapter 3 Masterlist

A/N I want to take this moment to say thank you for all the love and support on this story! I am so grateful for you all! It honestly makes my day with every like and comment and reblog that I see! I hope you enjoy this chapter as we finally get some good Cassian X Reader quality time!

The Naga approached the sound of them slithering close causing me to whimper. One gripped my bound arms tightly from behind me, its dry tongue sliding up the column of my neck. The other gripped my breast tightly eliciting a shriek from the back of my throat. “A delicious treat, brother. Just for us.”

I begged for Rhysand to help, prayed he would make it in time. As the creature in front of me gripped my face puckering my lips as he pressed his to my own. I thrashed against them as hard as I could, but they were stronger than me.

Rhysand’s voice came clear as day but instead of sending help it was just my name.

“Y/N! Y/N!”

“Wake up, Y/N.” My eyes blinked open and violet eyes came into focus. Calloused hands grazed my damp cheeks, wiping away the tears. “It was just a Nightmare, Angel.” I sat up as he released my face and moved toward the edge of the bed. I looked behind him to find the chair Cassian was sitting in the night before empty and I tried to dampen my disappointment that he had left sometime after I had fallen asleep. Rhys looked to me, “Shields up, Y/N.” I jolted him and worked on building that wall around my mind as the High Lord continued, “I sent Cassian off this morning to run some errands for me. He put up a fight about before he left though.” He gave me a smile.

There was a comfort knowing that he stayed with me, but other thoughts whirled in my brain I sighed and rubbed my face, “Rhys, what happens now? Also where are we?”

“You’re in my townhome, this is where I reside normally. You were staying in what we call the House of Wind.” Rhys’ smile fades, “As for what happens next, there are two options we can take due to the fact you’re still human. The first, would be that we can send you back to the human lands and you would be able to be with your sisters.” I bit my lip as he prattled on, “Or option two, you become a member of the Night Court as my human emissary.” He grips my hand, “In my opinion, not that you asked for it, I would hope you would like to pick option 2. I would pay you well and you would be able to see Feyre every month. Not to mention, I like having you around.” I gave him a small smile and his eyes held unspoken emotion. “You remind me of someone I knew long ago, she would have loved you.” A tear slid down his perfect cheek.

I squeeze his hand, and with my free on wipe the tear from his cheek, “She must have been really special, if just mentioning her has this reaction. One day when you’re ready I would love to hear more about her.” I pause, “Especially all the reasonings as to why she would love me.” He laughed a boisterous laugh, and I was happy to take his sadness away.

When he stopped, he asked, “One day huh? Does that mean you would like to stay?”

“Yes, I would like to stay.” My stomach rumbled.

“We can discuss logistics and details on your position after we have gotten food in your stomach.” He rose. “There are clothes in the closet, Mor has already claimed you for the afternoon to go shopping.”

I quirked a brow, “So you knew I would say I wanted to stay?”

“No.” He opened the door and gave a playful smirked, “I was, however, hopeful that you would want to. Get dressed and come down to the stairs I’ll introduce you to everyone, formally.” With that he closed the door. I took a moment to look out at the window and gasped at the beauty of the city I am staring at. The sunrise coated the city in various shades of pink and orange the sun glimmering on the river as soft waves flowed down stream.

I got out of bed and discarded the nightgown I was gifted and put on the Teal sundress that had sheer sleeves and flowed down to my knees. I placed my hair up in a simple bun and walked down the stairs. Laughter erupted and I followed the sound I found a dining room that has almost every seat filled all for one that was in between Mor and Azriel. There was a short female with short black hair and mesmerizing silver eyes that rolled her eyes at the laughter and her eyes met mine. “Well, well, well, appears someone is awake.”

The laughter dies down, and all eyes turn on me and I rub the back of my neck, “Hi.” I whispered. Mor shot up and ran over to where I was and almost tackled as she wrapped me in a bone crushing hug.

“I’m so happy you’re staying with us.” Mor squeezed causing a squeak to come out of me.

“Mor, let her go you’re going to crush her.” The low timbre of Cassian caused me to meet his gaze and he gave me a smile and a playful wink as Mor released me mumbling the word asshole under her breath. She led me to the seat next to her and I gave Azriel a smile, he simply nodded his head.

“Okay as promised, formal introductions. You know Mor, obviously,” He points to Azriel, “This is Azriel, the Night Court’s Spymaster and our very own shadowsinger,” I looked to Azriel whose shadows swirled around him as if a part of him and he puffed his chest slightly a sense of pride of his High Lord’s words. “The tiny angry looking one over there is my Second in command, Amren.” She doesn’t look phased by how she’s introduced and raises her goblet to me and takes a sip. “Last but certainly not least, the General of the Night Courts armies, Cassian. Though I believe you two have been acquainted.” My head snaps at Rhys’ who gave us both a shit eating grin.

“Sorry, Princess, I may have told them about that night we met.” My eyes met the General’s hazel ones his face had a flush on them as he smiled.

I grabbed a croissant from the platter in front of me and took a bite, and gave him a smile, “That’s alright, General.” I took another bite as two puzzle pieces clicked together and I ask, “Are you still willing to train me?” I avert my gaze and pick at the pastry.

“Any reason why I wouldn’t want to?” He asked, the table has fallen to an uncomfortable silence awaiting my answer.

Flashes of last night whirl through my head, of how I couldn’t even push the Naga away from me. Before I’m able to catch it, a tear falls then another, and sobs unleash until I can’t stop them. I cover my face and let it wrack out of my system. I feel Mor’s hand rubbing my back and can feel a talon on my mental shields of Rhys trying to get me to let him in. Then there is the scraping of the chair, sound of large boots. Mor’s touch vanishes as my chair is gently pulled back. Large hands grip my wrist and give them a light tug as the sobs continue, as I meet Cassian’s face, there was no judgement or pity, if anything there was an underlying rage there. He grips my hands tightly as if to remind me that I’m safe and that nothing would harm me. I look at the table and everyone gazes hold the same sentiment.

“Look at me, Y/N,” Cassian softly ordered, I face him once more and his thumb is rubbing soothing circles and my heartrate spikes. “I promise, I will make sure that you will never feel powerless again. You were ambushed last night; you were wounded and left out to fend for yourself, no one here thinks that you are weak because of it.” He wiped the tears from my face. “Would you like to start today?”

I nodded my head, and he gave me a beautiful grin, “Wonderful, we can get you some training gear and you can meet me outside after we eat. Okay?” I nod again, and he squeezes my hands before letting them go and instantly missed the warmth they provided. As he stands pushes a free strand of hair from face and tucks it behind my ear, “You know what happened last night wasn’t your fault right?”

I bit my lip, “Maybe if I wasn’t so confrontational with Tamlin.”

“Don’t even finish that sentence, Girl,” Amren spoke for the first time since I entered the room, and everyone stilled. I met her gaze it was as if her irises were swirling with silver liquid, “Tamlin, is a coward and fool. He feeds off feeling superior over the weak.” Her red lips formed a smirk, “You weren’t willing to bend to him and challenged him. He simply used the one thing he had on you. The simple fact that your human. Make no mistake that Tamlin is the worm here.”

I tilted my head at her, and let her words really sink in and I blurted out, “You’re Stunning.” Heat immediately racing up my cheeks. Amren’s eyes widened a fraction as the table filled with laughter at the immediate shift in mood.

Amren smiled and tipped her head to me, “Likewise, girl, I think you’ll fit right in.”

Breakfast went on, and Rhys shared what my duties at Emissary would be, and he provided me with some fighting leathers that hugged every curve of my body. I made my way outside to find that Cassian was stretching, in his usual leathers with those gems on across his body. With the mid-day sun, he looked like one of the old gods long forgotten. He was beautiful, and the way he moved as he practiced made him lethal. His wings twitched, and his spine went rigid. He turned in my direction, “Right on time.”

I walked toward him, feeling disoriented by the heavy boots Rhys had given me. “What are these gemstones? If you don’t mind me asking.”

He smiled and I decided that I would never get tired of him smiling, his whole face lit up when he did the gesture showing genuine happiness there. “They’re called siphons they harness my power to make it easier to control. They are earned during this thing called the Blood Rite, an Illyrian tradition but I won’t bore you with the details about why we do it, or their backwards beliefs of them. Not today anyway.”

“Well, another time, I’ve never heard about Illyrians before. They are not talked about much in the history of the fae we’re taught back in the human lands.” I walk past him to where he was practicing, “I’m also a sucker for a good story.”

“Well, when I can steal you for more than an hour. You can ask me all the questions you would like.”

I crossed my arms, “Why would you have to steal me?”

Cassian quirked a brow, “You have met Mor, correct? She has not shut up about wanting to spend time with you.”

“Hmm. Well, I will need someone to show me around. Where are we exactly? As I know this is Rhys’ town home, but I’ve never seen a city as beautiful as this. Well, I’ve never really ventured far from our small cottage anyway.”

Cassian made a few strides toward me, “We’re in Velaris, the city of Starlight. I personally think it’s the heart of the Night Court.”

“I can’t wait to explore.” I was acutely aware of how close Cassian had gotten, leather and sandalwood infiltrating my nose. “So will you show me around?”

“Sure. Though you’ll break Mor’s heart.” Cassian joked and caused me to smile, “Alright, Archeron,” I turned to him and gone was the playful face is gone. Replaced with the serious gaze of a General. “Let’s get started.”

Cassian had me show him what Rhys had been teaching me and showed me some more stretches before he asked me how I would punch someone. I clenched my fist and Cassian immediately shook his head. “No, Princess, you hit someone like that you’re going to hurt yourself more than your opponent.” He came up and grabbed my hand. He opened my hand he began folding my hand where the tip of my fingers was tightly placed in the base of my palm. He then places my thumb over my index finger. “There, this will protect your fingers and give you the best chance of hurting someone instead of yourself.” He walks behind me and raises both fists and nudges my legs with his own to get me in the perfect stance my heart was racing at the mere touch and proximity of him. “Tomorrow we’ll go over exactly the best stance to throw a punch and keep your balance but standing like this,” He whispered in my ear and chills ran down my warm body. He moves my arm in a punching motion, his other hand on my waist twisting to move with the punch. He does it a few more times and after the fifth time he releases his grip and has me do those movements on my own. I could feel his eyes on me as I kept repeating the motion until he held up his hand. “Very good. I think we’ll call it for the day.”

I nodded and he walked over to hand me some water. “Thanks.” I sipped the water, and he drank some from his own cup. He grabbed my cup and placed it down with his. He pointed to the floor, “On your back, Princess.”

My face heated and I’m sure my cheeks were pink, “Why?”

Cassian smirked, “I’m going to help you stretch, its important to stretch the muscles so you’re not sore tomorrow.” He crossed his arms, “What were you thinking about?”

I huffed and followed his order to lay on my back. “I was thinking about nothing, grow up.”

Cassian knelt his hand rubbing my calf with a smirk, “I’m quite grown up, thank you. I’m over 500 years old.” My eyes widened at the fact as he bent my knee and pushed my leg toward my chest, the muscles stretched, and I bit my lip to suppress a moan.

“That feels divine.” I whisper and I hear a low chuckle as the General moved to the other leg. He met my eyes as he pushed back my leg, and I could not hold the moan this time. I covered my mouth as he placed my leg down and massaged my calves. “I’m so sorry.”

Cassian looked like he wasn’t breathing his eyes holding something like yearning there but shook his head and waved me off, “Don’t worry about it, Princess. It’s a natural reaction,” He pat my legs and rise to his feet. He holds his hand out to me, and I take it he lifts me up with ease and releases my hand. “Good job today, we’ll pick up tomorrow.”

Rhys walked outside and tucked his hands in his pockets, “Mor, sadly had to go do her job and has left for a few days. So, your shopping spree has been put on hold.” Rhys shrugged, “I could take you around, and give you a tour of the city if you would like.”

I looked to Cassian, “If you don’t mind Rhys, could your General take me?” Cassian smiled and draped an arm around my shoulders. “If you don’t mind, Cass.”

“I don’t mind,” Cassian looked at Rhys, “Do you mind if I steal her?”

Rhys smirked, “Not at all. Have fun you two.”

The two of us parted ways to bathe and change. A midnight blue top and matching pants were prepped for me as I came out of the bath, and I placed it the top on used to the slight mid drift. I placed my hair fall in its natural curls and placed it on moon pin in my hair and slipped on a pair of silver slip on shoes. I walked down to the front door to find Cassian, wearing a casual shirt with a leather jacket and pants. His wings were relaxed and tucked close behind him and his hair was in a half up bun.

He looked up as he heard my footsteps coming down the stairs, “Well you clean up nicely,” I teased elbowing him. He smiled and rolled his eyes at me.

Cassian’s eyes lingered on my outfit and back up to my eyes. “I could say the same about you, Princess.” He opened the door, and the late afternoon breeze tickled my skin, “Ready to go?”

I nod, and he lays a hand on my back and guides me out of the front door. Once he shut the door behind me, we were off. Cassian and I walked the busy streets of Velaris. We went into various shops looking at clothes and different works of art. I stopped when we were at a vendor selling various paintings. My heart sank, Feyre had not painted in months, and I doubt after yesterday she’ll ever want to. I would do anything if it meant that she would want to paint again. If I ever see her. Calloused hands grazed my neck and brought me out of my thoughts, “Where’d you go?”

“I want Feyre to paint again,” I whispered, “She loved to paint after we came out of Under the mountain she just wouldn’t. Now with last night will I be the reason she never paints again?” I cross my arms and I walk past the paintings, “I don’t know if I could live with myself if that were the reason.”

Cassian gripped my elbow, “Y/N, Feyre has her own healing journey to take, her reasons, for doing or not doing something are her own, you don’t need to shoulder responsibility for someone else’s grief.”

I give him a small smile and give his hand a pat, “Thanks Cas, but my job was always to protect her, and I took pride in securing that small ounce of peace she would get when painting. I would sneak money just to make sure she had enough paint.” I kept walking Cassian meeting my stride his wing flared and wrapped slightly around me almost protectively. “I was like that for Nesta and Elain I always made sure anything they wanted books for Nesta or plants for Elaine, tensions were high a majority of the time, I just tried to keep the peace and made sure everyone was happy and safe.”

Cassian was quiet as we approached a bookstore, and I gripped his arm with an excited squeal, “Can we go in here?” Cassian nodded and opened the door for me, and the smell of books and a thin layer of dust fills my nose and i couldn't contain my smile. I walk up and down the aisle, looking at all the stories. Cassian was a silent yet steady presence behind me. There was a portion of the store that had various leather-bound notebooks.”

“What about you?” I turned to Cassian my brows furrowed. “Feyre has painting, Nesta reading, and Elain had gardening. What did you like to do?”

I bit my lip and shrugged, “Protecting my sisters I guess.” I grazed the top on a journal, “I never really had the time to do anything, if I wasn’t chopping wood, or helping Feyre hunt, or trying to make money. I didn’t have time for hobbies.”

Cassian frowned and guilt washed over me for taking his smile away, “If you did have the time what would you have liked to do.”

I lifted a Journal and flipped through the blank pages, “Don’t laugh.” I looked at him, “I would have loved to write. Even if I didn’t know how to write, I would have loved to tell stories. The kind of heroes and villains and romance things that Nesta would read to me when I was small.” I placed the journal down and shrugged. “Just a silly little dream.” I give him a smile one to hide the lingering sadness. “Enough about that, I’m hungry.” Cassian’s frown deepened clearly seeing my deflection.

“I’ll be out in a minute. Rhys ironically enough wanted me to see if they had a book in stock. “ I nodded my head and walked out of the store. I looked out at the river and quickly walked over and leaned against the railing to stare out at the sea. The sun is beginning to set and enjoy the scenery around me. Soft waves crashed amongst the bridge, and the scent of the water spray filled the air. It was peaceful and serene.

I was entranced by its beauty that I didn’t even hear Cassian approach, his hand on back caused me to jump and turn. “Sorry, didn’t mean to frighten you.” He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry for being a little jumpy. Did they have the book you needed?” I asked as he offered his arm for me to take, leading us to a little restaurant in an area he called earlier the rainbow.

Cassian shook his head, “No but I did find something else that piqued my interest.” He grabbed out of his pocket the leather-bound journal I was holding in the store and handed it to me, it felt as though the air had been sucked out of my lungs.

“Cassian-“

He interrupted me, “You may find that you have more free time here, you have worked hard to make sure your sisters were able to keep their hobbies. You should be able to explore something that interests you.” He gave you a smile “Plus I know there is one person for sure who would love to read whatever stories you come up with.”

I stopped, tears pooling in my eyes, “Cassian, I can’t repay you for this.”

Cassian also stopped, his hazel eyes warm and shining bright, “It’s a gift, Princess. Nothing to be repaid.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck, “Thank you, Cass.”

He chuckled and wrapped his arm around me. “You’re welcome, now let’s go get something to eat.” He pulled away and looped my arm with his once more and led us to dinner. At dinner he shared some stories of how he and Rhys met and how they met Azriel how they have been friends for centuries and in turn I told him of all the trouble Feyre and I used to get in before we lost our fortune and when it was over we fell into comfortable silence on the walk home.

Music played on the bridge, and it caused me to pause in my tracks. I gripped Cassian’s arms as my mind went back to late nights under the mountain.

Feyre had fallen asleep after sobbing, and I was still in the corner tears stained my face. The feeling of hopelessness taking over. I wish I had told Nesta and Elain how much I loved them before we left. I tucked my head into my knees and sobbed. Beautiful melody flooded my eardrums, something that held hope and happiness. Images flashed against in my mind of a beautiful orchestra on a bridge over river. The night sky was breathtaking as if they were swirling and dancing to the melody of the music. My eyes grew heavy as the melody hit the crescendo. I laid my head back and let the music sweep me into a peaceful slumber.

My breathing was labored, “Hey, hey, hey,” Cassian’s hand cupped my cheek, “what is it?”

“Rhys...he played this music in my head to help me sleep Under the Mountain.” Tears were streaming down my face clutching the journal Cassian bought me, “He was letting me know I wasn’t alone when I was convinced Feyre, and I weren’t coming out alive. He was showing me this band a piece of his home.”

Cassian eyes gleamed silver as well, “He’s annoyingly a good friend like that.” He looked over at the band as I chuckled, “Would you like to stay and listen for a little bit?”

“Please.” I whispered and he lowered his hand from cheek, but I reached out and laced my fingers with his. He tucked his wing around me to block the wind as we stood and listened to the music that kept me from breaking under the mountain.

Chapter 5

Story Tags: @hellodarling1357 @hnyclover @waytoomanyteenagefeels @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @esposadomd @sleepylunarwolf @stressed-reader @kylaisra @marvelouslovely-barnes @magicstrengthandcourage @spideytingley @awkardnerd @donttellthecats @tastydewdrops @vermillionwinter @asweetblueberry2 @bunnyredgirl @homeslices @azriels-mate2 @oksloan3 @wallacewillow0773638 @fandom-crashlanding @writingstreetspirit @hannzoaks @minnieloo @tuggboatfishin @judig92 @atrxidxs @dustyinkpages @secretlyhers @mxblobby @blogforficslol @historygeekqueen

#cassian x reader #cassian fanfic #cassian acotar #cassian x you #acotar #acotar fanfiction #rhysand x reader #azriel x reader #archeron sister #unwaveringpresence #cassian acosf #cassian imagine

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miss-tc-nova · 4 months

Text

S/O Inexperienced in Relationships - TWST Housewardens

Not a day has gone by that I haven't been working on this. I'm SO sorry this took so long but I interpreted this in a few different ways and had to decide how I wanted to write it. But it's done!!!

Also, sorry for not using a fem!reader. I've apparently conditioned myself to write around that.

As for the question of my patience, I've answered that here, lol.

Premise: The Prefect is acting a bit odd

Words:

Riddle: 308

Leona: 357

Azul: 296

Kalim: 364

Vil: 351

Idia: 400

Malleus: 362

~~~~~

Riddle

Riddle has started to become suspicious.

You almost seem paranoid—second guessing every single move you make. The foods you choose, the clothes you wear, and apparently even the path you take to class. There is nothing that seems to get the green light the first time around.

At first he lets it go, seeing as it doesn’t interfere with his duties. But as the problem persists, it does begin to interfere in the relationship. This wasn’t a thing before you started dating.

He never thought he’d frown upon fastidiousness, but you checking and double checking that little book of yours has interrupted far too many activities and is beginning to irk him.

So he demands the book only to be stunned at the Queen’s rules written inside.

You had been spending hours upon hours trying to abide the Queen’s rules that Riddle knew by heart.

However, Riddle has recently come to terms with the idea that not everything has to be perfect—that people can just live. So while he admires your dedication to adhere to something he finds important, he’s concerned for your wellbeing.

When he questions why you would go to such lengths for this, you shyly, embarrassedly admit that you were afraid of losing him. You’ve never had many friends, let alone significant others. You didn’t really know what made a strong, enduring relationship.

But you knew the rules were important to him.

Riddle finally understands, warmth bleeding through his chest as a smile pulls at his lips.

“I don’t mind if you know the logistics of a relationship or not. What matters is that we build this one together. And while I admire your dedication to study the Queen’s rules, I would much rather you preserve your health. You’ll learn them in due time. Until then, please, just be yourself—my beautiful rose.”

~~~~~

Leona

Leona’s ire is growing.

This is not what he thought your relationship would be like.

Sure, he didn’t expect you to be throwing yourself at his lap or hanging off him, but to not even smile when he approaches you? If he didn’t know better, he’d say you weren’t even dating.

He’s starting to go out of his way to get a reaction out of you. Taking things out of your hands and pretending to examine them—sometimes returning them, sometimes not. Leaning against you, and if you manage to resist, he’ll just go limp until you crumple beneath his weight.

In some rare occasions, if you’re having a conversation with someone, he’ll just pick you up and walk off. Honestly, he’s impressed you haven’t snapped at him yet.

Eventually, while your attention is focused on studying, Leona snaps. He snatches the book from your hand and hurls it over the balcony of his room, leaving you stunned.

When you ask if he’s okay, he turns the question back on you. When you insist that there’s nothing wrong, he demands to know if you regret agreeing to go out with him.

Denying that accusation is not enough as Leona persists that you “don’t act like it.” Your retort turns out to be that you don’t know how to “act like it.”

His confusion finally gives you a moment to explain. You never had many relationships with anyone, including romantic kinds, so you have no idea what you’re doing in this relationship. All you really know is that Leona isn’t into clingy types so you tried your best to be the opposite.

It takes Leona a moment to soak in the information before he promptly tells you that you’re an idiot through a smirk.

“Look, I can’t say I’m a relationship expert but do what you want. Pretendin’ to be someone you think makes me happy is just stupid. And clearly not workin’ for ya, so you might as well go back to bein’ that person I asked out in the botanical gardens. Now get over here. We’re takin’ a nap. No, you can get your book later.”

~~~~~

Azul

Azul regrets his decision.

At first, he thought having you take on some of his responsibilities was a great idea. He didn’t even ask you to; you volunteered.

You can easily run the Lounge in his absence, scheduling shifts, obtaining stock, and whatever else that needed doing. Hell, he even trusts you to facilitate contracts on his behalf.

He’s thrilled to have the free time to look into new ventures.

Except, with all this free time, he starts to notice that you have none.

You’re always on the move, always writing, always busy. And it seems to be taking its toll. You look tired, the spark in your eyes gone.

Regret sinks in, mostly because he can’t remember the last time the two of you actually spent time together.

It takes several attempts to pry you away from your work to finally talk and Azul starts right off with reducing your workload. When you refuse, he persists, his suspicion growing until he finally asks why you’re being so stubborn.

You crack. The last thing you want is to lose him because you aren’t good enough. Friends, let alone partners, aren’t something you understand very well for lack of experience. Without that knowledge, you concluded that becoming as useful as you could was best.

A smile tugs at his lips as the man pulls you into his arms.

“My darling, I promise I’ll be just fine running things without you. But more importantly, I promise that nothing will change between us. And while most may find experience advantageous, I think I more enjoy the idea of us learning to be together, together. Now, I’ve taken the liberty of clearing both our schedules for the day. And I would enjoy nothing more than to spend it with you.”

~~~~~

Kalim

Kalim is…confused.

He loves you and he is absolutely basking in all the affection you shower him with.

But it doesn’t feel like you anymore.

Shortly after you began dating, you began fawning over him at every opportunity. Your arms were always wrapped around him and you always kissed his face when entering or leaving his presence.

The thing that really clued Kalim in to something being wrong was the constant smile on your face. You had a beautiful smile when it was genuine. But this smile is forced.

On top of that, you aren’t the kind of person to be this overly affectionate. It must be draining to keep up such an energetic façade. And the last thing Kalim wants is for someone close to him to pretend to be someone they’re not.

He mulls over how to ask you about something that you might find sensitive.

Then he catches you without your mask. You look tired and anxious. And he can’t hold it in anymore.

Ignoring your smile, Kalim gets to the point, asking point blank what’s wrong.

You deny at first, but he begs you not to lie to him. He cares too much and, after what happened with Jamil, he refuses to let someone else suffer in silence if there’s anything he can do.

So you tell him. You tell him that you were pretty much alone in your world, no friends or romantic partners. You don’t know how to act or what’s expected; you’re even more lost when it comes to dating a freaking prince. You can’t offer anything that he didn’t already have. All you have are your feelings for him.

Hearing your worries, Kalim drags you into his arms. Of course he’s happy that you would shower him with love, but he wants the real you, all the time.

“Mmm, I don’t really know what romantic relationships are like either. But I don’t think it really matters. It’s okay to not be happy all the time. I mean, I love seeing you smile, but I love you no matter how you feel. So please don’t pretend just for me. Oh, there it is—the most beautiful smile.”

~~~~~

Vil

Vil holds his tongue a bit too long.

Initially, he’s impressed by the sudden, significant effort you put into your health and appearance.

This included morning workouts, tracking every meal and drink, and spending hours making sure you look perfect for the day. Not a hair out of place nor a frayed hem—all the best you could do with what you had.

And Vil encouraged you. Yes, he noticed that you weren’t exactly thrilled with the new regime, but no one really is in the beginning. But he wanted to support you.

Yet the longer he observes your efforts, the more he realizes that this attempt to “better” yourself is having the opposite effect.

Sure, you’re more glam, but your emotional state hasn’t improved. In fact, you seem exhausted. You smile and act bright, but a true actor could see through it. He’s ashamed he let it get this far.

But he’s not letting it continue.

He catches you on the way to your next workout and gets to the point, asking why the sudden uptake of your rigorous routine.

You tell him you’d always meant to be healthier and just never had the motivation to. So he retorts asking what this new motivation might be.

This is where you hesitate, growing embarrassed. Vil’s gentle insistence coaxes your worries into the open. You were a loner in your home world so you have no idea how you managed to catch the eye of one of Twisted Wonderland’s biggest celebrities.

You gush about how perfect Vil is but you’re just you. You’re terrified to lose him, so all you could think to do is adopt Vil’s way of life.

A soft laughter escapes him as he presses a kiss to your head.

“While I admire your efforts to emulate my lifestyle, the last thing I want is for you to be miserable every day. You can make little changes; I’ll support your every step. But even if you don’t, you’re still perfect. And who has a better eye for perfection than I do? That’s right. You are my perfect, little gem..”

~~~~~

Idia

Idia may have missed his cue.

A new patch released on one of his games, so of course he was lost to the world.

Throughout the whole thing, you kept quiet, never interrupting his game as he spent endless hours hunched over his keyboard.

However, the moment that end credit scene concludes, the young man sits straight, rubs his eyes, and immediately notices a distinct lack of you.

Ortho informs him that you haven’t been around for a few days. Seeing as you spent nearly all your free time with Idia since you two started dating, that sounds suspicious.

When his messages receive no reply, he forces himself to trudge out of the dorm for the only person he’d brave society for.

In Ramshackle, he finds you doing homework. But as he opens his mouth to tell you about his fantastical adventure, he stops himself. Even as you look up at him, your mouth is shut, but even more, you look sad.

Awkward as hell, Idia sits beside you. He’s grateful for your courtesy of letting him enjoy his game, but even he admits that ignoring you was rude.

So he asks why you didn’t interrupt him.

Your shoulders shrug. Idia had been excited for this expansion. You’d never been in a relationship before, but it felt wrong to rain on his fun. Besides, you were used to being alone so you didn’t see a difference.

He stares, lips twisted shut. Then he stands and leaves, marching straight back to his dorm where he gets to work for the better part of two days—including shipping.

Then he returns to drag you back to Ignihyde. His cluttered room is a little more so—filled with empty boxes and wrappers. But right next to his desk is another, set up very similarly. Meanwhile, Idia himself fidgets, a tint of pink on his face.

“So, yeah, I was a major jerk for going AWOL and I totally deserve to be reemed. But I’d totally take being interrupted over tanking our relationship. ‘Sides, the OG you is way more valuable than any platinum. I know! Cringe! But, if you’re interested, maybe we can just party up instead? Yeah, it’s got the latest specs and I already downloaded the best RPG so we can play together. No worries, let Gloomurai show you how to stomp those other noobs! Why are you laughing? Oh geeze.”

~~~~~

Malleus

Malleus can tell there’s something, but isn’t entirely sure what.

The shift was minute, the slow withdraw.

All was as it should be when your relationship began. Malleus could not have been happier.

Then the creases worked their way across your face. Sure, you smiled with Malleus, but when conversation lulled, it vanished and your eyes turn downcast.

You always seemed lost in whatever concerns occupied your mind and, soon enough, even Malleus couldn’t regain your attention very easily.

Inevitably, he gains some clue when a song of praises of the great heir come exploding from Sebek’s mouth. As the freshman demeans another student for some trifling reason, the dragon distinctly notes your aura recoil. The floor has your attention and you’ve never looked so uneasy.

This worries him. All his life people had kept their distance, but to have the love of his life do so as well—he’s not sure he could stand it.

So the prince bides his time, waiting for a moment of privacy before his fear becomes unbearable. And with a heavy heart, he asks if his status has finally gotten to you.

You bashfully admit that it might have and he feels his heart cracking.

But you continue. Your experience in relationships is miniscule. You’ve only just begun to learn what it means to have friends but in romance your knowledge is woefully non-existent. The thought of maybe one day needing to lead a whole kingdom of people is terrifying. What if you mess it up?

Word by word, Malleus begins to realize that this isn’t about him or his status. He scorns himself for thinking you would care about that; nevertheless, it does ease his own worries.

Because he has nothing but faith in you.

“After everything that’s happened, it’s peculiar that you worry about such things. I may not be well versed in relationships myself, but I’m not concerned with whether or not you’re good for my kingdom. You’re good for me—perfect just as you are. And together we’ll learn and be an example of what it truly means to care for one another. Mm? Are you blushing? Was it something I said?”

~~~~~

#gender neutral reader #malleus draconia #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #riddle rosehearts #kalim al asim #idia shroud #vil schoenheit #twst x reader #novas requests

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goldenfreightforwardingmarketing · 5 months

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Sustainable Delivery Options: Balancing Speed and Environmental Responsibility

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#freight forwarding company #logistics company in canada #freight forwarding solutions #global freight solutions #cargo logistics canada #ltl & ftl trucking #cargo logistics #freight forwarders near me #logistics company #freight international services #International freight forwarding industry #freight logistics trucking #laptop packing and shipping #furniture freight companies #global used clothing shipping #sea freight forwarder #ocean frieght services #LCL Shipping Canada

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yridenergyridenergy · 1 month

Text

Dir en grey interview translation notes around The Devil In Me

Just some of the more interesting bits from the single's booklet and from PHY vol. 25.

Kyo

He was the one who came up with the title, and the title was determined before they even attached a song to it. The band basically decided to set a date for a new single ahead of time, not too long after 19990120's release, then they had just one song selection meeting (usually, they have three) to pick a song to work with toward becoming "The Devil In Me". After scheduling a release date, they had to pick a title before even knowing what song would be part of that release for production/logistical reasons.

Kyo wrote the lyrics of The Devil In Me based on his sense of dissociation from world events, how his own issues are not aligned with what the world cares about. He finds that people's lives are sometimes pre-determined the moment they are born. It's really a reflection on: "Why am I the way I am?"

The chorus has so many layers because Kyo wanted to illustrate that inner evil, or wickedness.

While re-recording Yokan, Kyo realized that he used to sing in short bouts, taking a breath more regularly, whereas he's evolved to sing as much as he can in a single, long breath now.

The small changes made to the lyrics of Cage just serve to help Kyo feel more immersed in that old poem, but if he'd wanted to change the lyrics to represent his current mindset, clearly he would have composed a completely new, different song.

Kyo commented in PHY vol. 25 that if the producers wanted a band that sells a lot, they would have had to replace him with someone who is taller, has a nice face and that composes songs that appeal to a wider audience. But around their debut, Kyo had to bend to some of the producers' demands because he had to rely on their knowledge of what would make the band successful. He wanted to make a very dark band, but he had to accept to make songs like Yokan.

"It wouldn't be appropriate to sing about corpses and internal organs to a melodious song such as Yokan (lol)."

Kyo feels like Dir en grey is the toughest band for him to be a part of, because the band's shows are especially mentally difficult.

Kaoru

The music of The Devil In Me was Kaoru's idea.

Kaoru agrees that the song kind of ends in a way that the band could have, in the past, followed up on with a second section of the song, but they felt like ending it in a more simple way now, which still represents the band's current state.

Die

The band had a discussion in a dressing room during Tour23 Phalaris Final –The scent of a peaceful death- and that's where they came to an understanding of where they wanted to take the band next. Kyo brought them ideas on what he felt that the next single song should sound like, but in the end, at the selection meeting, the majority of the band chose a completely different song than the other of the 5 that Kyo preferred. He's fine with letting the majority win.

Die started working out in 2018 to make sure to stay in shape for stage performances, and I think that he mentioned that it's important for him to appear young and healthy so that the fans who follow the band also don't feel old.

For Die, he was in part less active on stage during the Dum Spiro Spero era because the songs were dark and complex, so he had to focus more. Because of that, he couldn't enjoy the actual shows as much.

Toshiya

Toshiya mentioned that doing commemorative tours and shows is really just fan service.

Toshiya described Dir en grey as a group of five dictators. Their enemies and friends/allies are all inside that group, and the past 25(+) years have been a continuation of challenges to bring the band forward despite this type of chemical reaction between five egos.

Apparently the band never has casual "weird" conversations where they chat about their interests of the moment, but they quietly observe the others without interacting, like by observing what kind of clothes they wear or are into.

Shinya

Contrary to the band's habit, the vocals did not even exist yet when Shinya had to compose and record his drumming for The Devil In Me. When the vocals were eventually recorded, they kind of matched what Shinya had expected.

However, overall, a couple of members of the band feel like The Devil In Me might be a song that people react to with: "I don't get it", rather that just liking or disliking it.

Shinya dissing The Marrow of a Bone again hahah.

Shinya described The Devil In Me as mysterious, inexplicable.

He started taking some lessons from Buck-Tick's "Anii" (Toll Yagami) to learn a new drumming method. In the past, at the very beginning of his career, Shinya used to wear lead weights at his ankles to hit the pedal heavier and develop muscles, but Yoshiki and other seniors told him how to actually play and he quickly got rid of the weight belts.

#Dir en grey #The Devil In Me #magazine #interview #cage #yokan #25th anniversary

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cheolhub · 9 months

Note

birthday bash ask!!~

let’s eat (🤤)- sarrrr this is dangerous!! i’m going to have to request mr kim mingyu (you know!!) and i’ll let you decide on a prompt(s) to use! (trust you with my all! gimme a dm if u want me to choose hehe)

5:13 p.m. — kim mingyu

prompt. “you're so good for me, so fucking good around me, fucking made for me. “

wc. 955

warning. mingyu fucks reader in a dryer (very unrealistic), needy!gyu, baby fever + marriage kink (my fav combo), use of mommy [x1], unprotected sex, creampie, manhandling, SO much dirty talk, pet names [baby, angel] — MINORS DNI 18+

note. thank u for sending in an ask lu,, i’m so sorry if you dont like the piece or the prompt i used !!! i know it’s a lil intense and lacks a lot of detail 😭 i was in the mood to write needy gyu with baby fever without thinking abt logistics so,,, here it is (also im sorry it’s so short </3) [not proofread if u see a typo, i literally didn’t write this]

mingyu is a sucker. you’re not sure there’s a diagnosis for what he has other than a severe case of baby fever. it's not when he sees babies that sets him off, no, it’s you. you doing anything remotely domestic like chores around the house for that matter. when you’re cooking him dinner, loading the dishwasher, dusting and sweeping in your cute little house slippers, and his personal favorite, unloading the dryer.

to put it simply, he just can’t wait to give you a baby so he can come home and spoil his gorgeous little family. the mere mention of even wanting a future with him has him weak in the knees.

it’s why your his shirt is flipped over your ass and your panties are pushed halfway down your legs the second he finds you in the laundry room. “gyu, what the fuck are you– ah!” you cry out feeling his spit-slicked cock slip inside of you. you fall into the pile of warm clothes, the smell of clean linen filling your nose. “baby!”

mingyu groans, cock twitching at the word that’s had his head spinning for weeks, “that’s right, ‘m gonna give you a baby, angel,” he says, hands gripping your hips for dear life, the flesh of your skin nearly interlaced between his fingers.

you moan loudly, but it’s muffled by the wild white sheets in the machine. your skin burns up as if it weren’t already on fire thanks to the fresh heat of the dryer. you knew mingyu was ruthless and needy when it came to getting his dick wet, but never would you have thought you’d be in this position as he pounds into you.

“fuck, i love you so much. love you and this fucking pussy so so much. ‘m gonna fill you up ‘n ‘m gonna marry you,” he mutters, eyes watching the way you swallow his dick whole, disappearing as it goes in and out. “gonna make you a pretty little mommy, make you my fuckin’ wife.”

you’re partially convinced that your boyfriend has gone crazy, but the words head straight to your core, the increase in your arousal solidifying everything mingyu had said.

his breathing becomes labored, soft moans growing louder as they morph into deep groans. your ears pick all of it up even with the walls of the dryer attempting to drown him out. “tell me you wan’ it, angel, t-tell me you wan’na baby, a pretty ring… tell me you want me forever.”

you just can’t say no, the offer is too good. you want everything and more with this man, so you tell him exactly what he wants to hear. “i do, i wan’ it, gyu, w-wanna make you a d-dad! w-wanna marry you!”

a guttural groan erupts in his chest and his thrusts pick up, the tip of his cock ramming into your cervix eliciting a loud, muffled cry as you scream into the cloth. “baby, you're so good for me, so fucking good around me, fucking made for me.” he babbles, overstimulated tears pricking at his eyes. “i’m so close, angel. gonna fill this cunt with all my cum ‘n get you pregnant. it’s gonna take. s-swear to fucking god, it’s gonna take.”

your hands mercilessly fist at the cotton, wrinkling it in your tight grasp. you think the heat from the freshly dried sheets melts your brain because now you’re sobbing, incoherently babbling out pleas, but the only thing that can be heard in the mess of your words is the chant of his nickname, “gyu, gyu, gyu!” you clench tightly around his cock, gummy walls molding to the shape of him as they’re made to.

and, fuck, mingyu’s abdomen tightens at the euphoric feeling. his balls draw up, thrusts turning sloppy and inconsistent as he fucks into you. “shit, baby,” he mewls, his grip on your hips near bruising. “i’m gonna cum.”

all it takes is another tight hug from your cunt and he’s a mess. his cock throbs inside the heat of your stretched cunt before he slams into you and stills, his tip pressed right against your cervix as he empties his load.

it’s the ripple effect that triggers your own orgasm. you moan and whine as you feel his heavy seed filling you to the brim and painting your used walls white. all the while, the knot that’s been steadily forming in the pit of your tummy completely unravels and you’re left a shaking, crying mess inside a dryer full of wrinkled, tear soaked cotton.

it takes him longer than usual to come down from his orgasm, but he eventually eases his grip on your waist as he finds his mind again. he pulls your near-limp body out of the dryer and you let out a broken whine as you feel his cock slip out, creating a mess of cum on the ground. he doesn’t really mind seeing his load go to waste knowing he’ll pump you full the second you’ve recovered.

you slump in his arms while he wordlessly presses kisses into your hair. when you whine again, he murmurs apologetically. “sorry i was so rough, are you okay?”

you nod, still trying to catch your breath and regain stability. “it’s okay. i’m okay. just need a sec,”

he doesn’t say anything for a minute or so, holding you in his arms till you’re able to stand on your own but then he whispers. “can we go again? are you up for it?”

you laugh softly at his need. “we can, but can we try the bed this time? do you think you’ll make it to our room without fucking me against one of the walls?”

he shrugs, grinning to himself. “we’ll see.”

#[ birthday bash ! ]#[ ⭐️: mutuals ! ]#[ 👢: lucy ! ]#mingyu smut #svt smut #seventeen smut

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the-kr8tor · 5 months

Note

First time request!

Hobie reading thirst tweets on buzz feed 🙊

Why did this idea randomly 💭into my head? IDK DONT ASK

Thank you for requesting! 😘😘

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing) Famous AU/ Band AU (?) Actor AU, CW suggestive, Fluff.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

“‘I wanna live in his knickers’ alright, how would you fit inside though?” You laugh loudly as Hobie reads a comment printed on a tiny slip of paper. “Think of the logistics, love” you guffaw, the sound echoing in the studio, you kind of feel bad for the audio people in the back.

You choke on your own spit from laughing so much, Hobie pats your back gently while he chuckles. “Bloody hell, look what you've done–” he squints at the username on the paper, his eyes widen at the crude name, he folds it in half to put it away. “‘m not even gonna read that out loud”

“What? why? Is it that bad?” You try to reach over him to try and sneak a peek.

“Not for your innocent eyes, lovie.” he flicks the paper away, it swishes away, slowly falling down on the carpeted floors.

You see the camera crew stifling a laugh from your peripheral as Hobie puts his whole hand over your face. The sheer size of it covers your entire face.

“This is why the last comment says your hands would look great as a necklace.” Your voice is muffled by his hand, now you feel bad for the audio editors.

“Well that one is more logical” he takes his hand off your face, wiping his hand on your too expensive blouse, pretending that your drool is sticking on his palm.

“This is vintage, Hobie” you say in between giggles. He rolls his eyes while he takes a piece of paper from your bowl.

He rests his chin on your shoulder as he holds the comment in front of you to read. You reach behind to gently scratch his nape.

“‘Please step on me, Y/N. Oh and Hobie can join too’” you two laugh simultaneously. Your stomach hurts from all the laughter.

Hobie leans too far back, too engrossed in his laughing. With a thud he falls off the stool, his legs raised like a cartoon character that slipped on a banana peel.

You gasp, hearing loud laughter from the crew that makes you laugh too as you see him put up a thumbs up with a goofy smile on his face.

“You look bloody fit in this angle” he flirts, the only comment from today's shoot that made butterflies fly in your stomach.

“Charmer” you're surprised that you managed to say a word as your cheeks heat up. Lending him a hand, you raise him back to his feet awkwardly.

His hand stays on yours, holding it tenderly, squeezing it three times while he looks at you longingly. “Let's get this over with so you can step on me right after.” He whispers.

“Hobie!” You hope they stopped filming because of his blunder.

#request done #hobie brown x reader #spider punk x reader #the kr8tor's creations #x reader #atsv fanfiction #atsv fanfic #atsv x reader #hobie brown x fem!reader #hobie brown x you #spider punk x you #spider punk x fem!reader #famous au #band au #actor au #hobie fluff #fanfic

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katiapostsss · 24 days

Text

ੈ✩‧₊˚ "𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔." — anakin skywalker

to stop a war, all you need to do is get anakin's cooperation. he has other plans.

▫️ warnings! :

fingering ,, smut ,, oral ,, denied orgasm ,, swearing ,, yelling ? ddde!

.ೃ࿐ 📰

SYNOPSIS: when anakin calls you to his attention, you expect the usual back and forth of your dynamic. what you get is just that. and a bit more..

〰️

. 𝑨𝑵𝑨𝑲𝑰𝑵 𝑺𝑲𝒀𝑾𝑨𝑳𝑲𝑬𝑹'𝑺 quarters smell of the sea and light citrus. the scent he wears on his clothes, his skin, his gaze, his breath, as you've always observed. it's the first thing you notice when you invite yourself in without bothering to knock, without even pausing outside of his door, the first thing that has never failed to make you question whether you truly hate him or not.

but the man sitting at his desk chair, toying with a pen that he lightly touches to his lip, reminds you just why you do. anakin's back is to you, therefore you cannot actually see him, his long legs spread and his eyes directed out the slightly-open window. he quickly looks to the door at the first creak in it's swing, quickly relaxes when he realizes it's you. but you are just as tense as you were walking up. he wears what you assume to be his night attire, which you are not used to.

"anakin," you start, "you sent for me?"

the jedi inhales heavily, nodding as if to confirm it for himself. "yes." he turns completely towards you, holding a stack of papers he'd collected from his desk, and idly sifts through them, plucking one out of the pile and dropping the rest back behind him. you are vaguely confused, you must admit, as you take it from his outstretched hand. "this letter was sent to me. from mace windu. read it."

your eyes fall to the paper.

discord regarding azariah's feats are only getting worse, anakin. if you are to do anything about this at all, as expected of you, do it now, or face the consequences inevitable to ensue.

i would suggest a meeting, in private preferably, to run things by, to confirm next steps. especially if it is your neck you'd like to save, rather than those of your enemies'.

and suddenly you are very nervous. there is a mask of quiet calculation in anakin's eyes when you look back up, undoubtedly expecting you to explain yourself. you clutch the paper and set your jaw, schooling your expression into cool starkness. "i must admit, i have been withholding information from you." you don't like the words. saying them makes it feel like he is in control over you. the one man you would never pledge any fealty to.

but he does not seem smug to have won you over for once. "and..?"

you nearly roll your eyes. "and letters, yes."

he purses his lips, nodding his head in a way that seems ironically disapproving.

"right, and why is this, y/n?"

"it was the more rational approach. seeing as you seem to value the chase over the actual logistics of a war, yes, i restrained a few details i felt would only worsen our condition if seen to by you—"

"and who do you pledge to? yourself? or me?"

you open your mouth to counter his argument, anger starting up within you, but he speaks before you.

"and were you ever considering informing me of windu's suggestion? that he'd like to personally talk? or is he not of much significance in your eyes now, too?"

he's accusing you. as if he even has a semblance of an idea of what you're going through to please him. what you'd like to do is scream at him, but instead, you fold slightly into yourself and close your mouth, readying a new approach. "i took your place, just to make sure the statistics were important enough to pass unto you."

at this, he huffs an incredulous laugh. you clench your teeth. "and? were the statistics important after all? seeing as apparently you're the jedi here now, hm?"

how he has the audacity to be angry at you for doing your part is beyond you.

"he— master windu, he informed me of a few moves azariah made."

this entire discord is based off of a lost lover in the first place, azariah. one anakin had taken long ago, who's now envious he's moved on. who is now sparking disarray almost everywhere. how stupid. who could anyone ever want the man before you, acting as though you are a dog to be pranced around with?

"go on," anakin says, waving a hand in the air.

"the shot— she'd been the perpetrator, it seems—" on the same note, a woman had been nearly killed in the flower fields a few months back, almost shot to death. the gun was found in the grass. more importantly, this woman was with anakin mere hours earlier. "—though she'd fled before anyone could catch her. i surmise it was out of jealousy. that is all windu told me."

what anakin doesn’t know, perhaps what he’ll never, is you knew who the shooter was long before master windu told you. you were the one to find azariah, crying on the cliffside, the one to talk to her—more so yell—and hear her out when she told you she didn’t intend on killing the woman, just scaring her off. and you were the one to promise you wouldn’t say a thing, having been a late friend of hers, as long as she left and never bothered the jedi again. obviously, that went sour.

anakin looks absolutely exasperated. "really, how many secrets are you keeping from me, y/n?"

you ignore him, crumpling the letter in the process of balling up your hands. "beyond that, i think we both know the smart move here is to give her what she wants."

the jedi, dropping the hand he used to rub at the bridge of his nose, gives you a stare that suggests he is quite done with you. "and that is?"

"must i say it?" you drawl, keeping your expression hardened while also trying hard to hold yourself composed. "the only way to stench the flow of any more strife is by giving into what azariah wants out of this conflict, and what she wants is you."

he looks immensely unimpressed.

you continue, "it is clear she will not stop for anything or anyone, even if it leads to her own demise. for what reason? i do not know, nor understand, but the girl is stubborn. i'm guessing it is being done most likely to prove she has a power over you and all jedi. if you were to return the sentiments she has been begging you to, i am almost certain she'd stop."

anakin is quiet. his eyebrows are raised, lips parted, but his expression as a whole gives nothing but deadpan. like you just told him a very horrible joke. "if you think you are being funny, you are not."

it takes everything in you to keep yourself together, stand your ground. because what you want to do is punch him straight into the floor right now. instead, you focus on maintaining confidence, feigned or not. "you need not even indulge in her games for too long. just enough to get her satiated, just enough to get her to put an end to this conflict."

"that is not happening," he states simply, turning back around to his desk and beginning to sift through more papers. "now that you've actually decided to catch me up on the information you withheld from me, i can construct other plans that don't involve making a mockery of my duties as a jedi."

at this, your icy demeanor slips for a moment and you stare incredulously at the back of his head, not believing. "if you are to lead us into war, anakin, then so be it. but i am not obligated to watch, and don't expect me to."

quickly, he turns back to you, cocking his head. "are you certain? or are you merely saying that to get me to bend to your will?"

you purse your lips into a grimace and bite out your response, "both."

anakin is surprised into humor by your approval, but also equally annoyed. you are getting on his nerves. what's new? his stare is calculating. precise. "alright," he begins, "so this seems to be the only route, yes? if so, and if this plan were to work.. this.. flirting... how would i go about it, y/n?" he challenges bitterly, tilting his head back. "if you surmise so truely that this is the only way, you obviously have some idea as to how i could strike, yes?"

his questions demand answers. you are nervous beneath their weight, though.

"i think you know what you could do, anakin. it is what anybody would do. it is common sense."

but he does not seem pleased with your responses. he watches you a moment, and your breathing, steadied, unsteadies itself again when the jedi draws himself from his seat, into a stand, staying by the desk but worrying you all the same. "none of that, y/n. please, do enlighten me. i'd like to hear it out loud. from your lips. if you know so much about war, that won't be difficult at all, will it?"

and then he's walking towards you. with each step, you feel your skin tighten around your body more and more, shocking you into silence. "so tell me, what could i do to help, hm? what could you possibly want me to do with azariah, y/n? touch her? kiss her, maybe? is that what you want from me?" he wears the same grimace on his face, and his tone remains just as harsh and cold.

you refuse to budge. well, your body refuses. your stomach is twisting and turning, and the evidence of your nerves is shown through the red on your cheeks. everything in you tells you to run as he stops a few inches before you, reaching out and skimming his knuckles across your arm. "do you think this would this work, y/n? touching her like this?" his eyes raise from his hand, to your own.

in your hazy, slightly horrified state, you stammer out, "probably." the last jab at him using the last of your confidence. your cool demeanor is completely gone now. "whatever you usually do works— works a charm." which is a horrible comeback, seeing as anakin has probably never let any woman touch him before.

but it is hard to think right now, when your whole body is alert yet relaxed at the same time, sick, horrendous desire coursing coursing coursing through you.

anakin voices a short, huffed laugh, completely humorless and bitter, and in his proximity, you feel it fan out across your face. the smell of citrus rides his tongue.

"oh, but i'm sure you know exactly what azariah would want from me, if you seem so devoted to pushing this narrative onto me. at least give me the benefit of your advice."

now, his hand rises to your face, fingers brushing against skin so sweetly it would pass as the caress of a lover. but you know better than to think it to be anything but horrible, twisted lust. "tell me, y/n. is this how i should handle her? so gently? should i look into her eyes as i do you? should i hold her face in the way i hold yours?"

heat is gathering in the spots of flesh he grazes with his nimble fingers. you are utterly ruined, unraveled, ravished before him, but there is still some left of you. could he undo the rest? "i don't know," you somehow manage to choke out, eyes darting to his lips, because as you speak, his dart to yours. there is something wrong with your voice. it's high, and pitchy, and so obviously laced with want you don't know how you're holding up. anakin seems to be thinking the same thing.

he does not care.

he leans in, down, his hand slipping to your ear and tucking away your hair, and his lips press oh so benignly to your lobe, that you almost don't feel it at all. you do feel the words he says next though. they are life and death and reincarnation against your skin. "do you think it would work.." he kisses you there again. "...if i touched her like this? do you think it would seduce her?"

all of you is alight. yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes. yes. it would. because it's working right now. "anakin," you say strictly, almost pulling away. you can't. you don't want to.

"y/n. give me an answer," he speaks. "i command it."

and is this how azariah felt? in the moments leading up to the shedding of clothing? did she also feel this alive, but also so dead? if so, you can understand now why she wants him back.

and even the thought of the the other girl he fucked cannot stop you from wanting this want to because something more. you can't remember to hate him, even when it's so obviously there in your mind. your desire is blaring brighter and stronger. it is much more tempting. it always has been, hasn't it?

"if i touched her like i touch you, do you think she'd like it?"

so you say what you know you shouldn't. "yes."

and what a word. because it is one syllable, and three letters, and it doesn't even mean a lot at all. but it is what has anakin pulling away from the whispers of your hair, staring into your eyes like you just harnessed the stars and offered it up as a christmas present. he looks surprised that you gave in. like that was all a big game to him, to get you just more annoyed. it is what, in mere seconds, has his lips on yours, and his body against your own, and his hands shoved into your hair, and your back against the door.

your limbs moves on command. anakin's mouth is soft, supple, even though he uses it in such a harsh way. this. this this this this this.

his hands roam everywhere all at once, as if they can't feel enough of you. they skim your waist, up your torso, fly to your jaw... there is a slight furrow in his brow. you are his muse. you are the concentration of his force.

and his tongue is prodding your lips, and prying open your mouth, and exploring exploring exploring exploring. fuck you're wet. have you ever been this damn wet? heat is pooling in your core, aching to be touched by the same fingers he's used to mock you. you're moaning into his mouth, muffled by his sweet movements, and the door you're pressed against is no match for his intensity.

"anakin..." you sigh when he pulls away, hastily admiring the mess he's made of your lipgloss. he tilts his head and licks the remnants off, and it's the hottest fucking thing you've ever experienced. you can't help but move yourself against him in your desire.

at that, he lets out a low groan, throwing his head slightly back. "tell me again— what you always say. say— it again," he whispers breathily, his words short and stammered.

brow furrowed and eyes closed, you don't even think to try and guess. "w— what?"

"that you hate me." his voice is perfectly hoarse. "tell me that you hate me again."

you're pulled slightly from your pleasure, forcing your gaze on him. god, he's so beautiful, your lip product smudged on his face, his hair mussed. when has he ever been this beautiful? or has he always been? why have you never really noticed? he's kissing your neck, your jaw, sucking at your skin, and you say the words with such disregard, but such intensity, you know they aren't real. "i hate you."

and he's kissing your lips again. harder. harder and harder. so fucking hard, you're scared your lips and tongue will be bruised by the morning. "i hate you i hate you i hate you i hate you—" you repeat over and over again into his hair as he nips and licks, hands tangled in his hair, as if reciting a spell, as if singing along to a litany of your deepest thoughts. he makes a sound like a grunt, and suddenly, he's pulling you off the door by the waist and pushing you onto his bed, crawling over you, his lips never once leaving your body. "i hate you so much, it's all i can think about sometimes."

and his grip on your hips tightens until it's painful in that sick, pleasurable way. then, he's kissing down your jaw, sucking and nipping the whole way, like he can't get enough. because he can't. your hands find themselves in his hair, pulling, tangling, squeezing, as you moan out into the warm, citrusy air. "this is a bad idea..." his lips end up on your collarbone, biting into the bone. you arch your back into his touch, wanting more.

"i know." anakin's hand trails down your torso, then under your tank top, feeling the cloth of your bra underneath. and his voice is so raspy and breathy, you question if you ever truly hated him at all, like you always liked to say you do. this doesn't feel much like hate. this doesn't even feel like dislike. "fuck, y/n."

and it's all too fucking much. "anakin— fu— please.."

he's running his hands along the plains of your breasts through your bra, and it's everything all at once. he looks up at you with those dead eyes, studies your face. "yea? you want this? you want my cock?" and he presses a kiss to your collarbone.

when your only answer is a moan, though, he's leaning back up to your face and retracting his touch from beneath your shirt, grabbing your jaw and forcing your eyes on his. his thumb presses against your lips, prying your mouth open, and hooking on your teeth. "use your words, y/n."

in your haze, you nod at the same time you breathe, "yes, please, anakin. want it— s— so bad.."

at that, he's smiling, straightening, pushing your shirt over your head and throwing it who knows where. he leans back into a kneel to admire your breasts, before sinking back down and trailing sloppy kisses from your neck, to the hem of your bra. you mewl and whimper, hands gripping his hair, as his hand explores, sinking to the clasp and quickly undoing it. when he's pulled off the skimpy cloth, he wastes no time latching his lips to the peaked bud of your nipple, licking and nipping gently. you arch your breasts into his face, crying out as a new wave of pleasure hits. his hand gently travels to your other boob and pinches your nipple, palming the soft flesh.

"so fucking beautiful—" he whispers softly, pulling back to admire you again. with your head thrown back and your brows furrowed, such a look of pure desire twisted into your face, you might just be the most beautiful thing on earth. he can't help but lean forward and kiss you messily again. "maker, y/n."

and you can't remember a time where your name on his tongue was anything close to annoying or irritating. he pulls away. "fuck me, ani—" you stammer out, looking at him with such lust, voice almost like a whine, and perhaps it's the nickname, that has him halting slightly, that has him hovering silently over you, searching your eyes, like he might need to hear the words again to confirm, before reaching down and quickly unbuttoning your pants, shoving his hand inside without even bothering to pull them down a bit. either way, you're not complaining. you throw your head back when his finger circles your clit through your panties, pressing ever so slightly yet eliciting moan after moan from you.

"so wet.. you're fucking soaking. is all this for me, baby?" he whispers, watching your face as his fingers toy and play, pulling the fabric aside and teasing teasing teasing. you buck against his hand, desperate for pleasure.

"y— yes! mhmm— fuck—" you choke out, nodding your head rapidly and stupidly along. a smile ghosts across his lips, and the look on his face—if you could see it—would tell you he's feeling like the luckiest man alive. he looks down at where his hand is touching you, retracting it and studying the glistening liquid on his fingers.

"shit," you hear him utter, forcing your eyes to where he's assessing, and the sight has you mewling for more. when his gaze meets yours, he looks utterly lost in desire. "you're driving me crazy, y/n." he drops his hand to the hem of your pants, stare still fixated on your eyes, and drags your jeans and panties down down down your legs.

watching it feels like reading a poem. you throw your head back as cold air hits your soaking pussy, whining shamefully. but his eyes are still on yours, watching, as his finger lightly begins tracing the line of your slit. a gasp, your body tensing. the "anakin.." that falls from your lips has him growing harder than he's ever been, and yet, he quietly just teases your entrance, running his digit up and down until you're begging, clenching around open air.

"please, anakin.." you plead, meeting his eyes. they look up at you from between your legs, and it is a sight that could make you release then and there. you squirm, a mewl leaving your lips.

and that is his cue. he shoves two fingers inside you without warning, curling them and pumping then in and out of your soaking pussy faster than your brain can comprehend what's happening, while his thumb traces your slit. you choke on a moan, your back beaming off the bed, your mouth falling open. "shit—! anakin— oh god—!"

his fingers working at you, the jedi gives a curse, studying your pretty pussy. "so tight.. how m'i gonna fit, hm?" he mutters to himself, looking back at you and almost bucking against the bed at the sight. damn, you're so fucking beautiful. he leans back up, kissing and biting down your body as his fingers abuse your cervix. your slick wets his hand, running down his palm, and you moan and mewl and beg, breathing heavily, while he murmurs and blows against your skin.

"i know, i know, baby," he whispers into your neck, trailing sloppy bites over your body until he meets your clit. he retracts his finger, and you whine desperately, thinking he's teasing you, but then, his tongue is licking a stripe up your pussy and his thumb, spreading you open. you cry out all over again, throwing your head back, your fingers finding his hair and tangling themselves in, pushing his face closer. your thighs wrap around his head as he spears his tongue inside you, lapping at your wetness like it's his last meal. "taste— so good, baby.." he speaks between licks.

the sound of your cries and wet licking is all you know right now. your back is arching off the bed over and over again with each delve inside you. all while he stares straight at the glistening plains of your face, screwed in desire, mouth open around all your moans. he keeps a hand on one hip to hold you steady, and one above your pussy, his thumb toying with your clit.

"ani ani ani ani," you repeat in the same way you promised falsely that you hated him moments earlier, grinding yourself on his face. he hums as he licks, and it sends vibrations through your core, his name growing louder and louder with each passing second. "fuck, anakin! fuc— ahh—!"

and this should last forever, his tongue lapping and lapping and spearing inside you, his eyes on your face as you take it like he always dreamed you would. his lips latch around the bud at the top of your clit, and it has your legs shaking around his ears, a curse choking out of your throat as you realize you're almost at that edge. almost. there. "i'm gonna— fuck— anakin— cumming—!"

and he pulls away.

almost immediately, your pleasure halts. without his tongue, your orgasm is failed, nothing. your movements still. you go quiet. everything goes quiet. confused, frustrated, angry. that's what you are. the magic is gone. you're back to earth, and it is much bleaker than you remember. "what the fuck—?" and when you look down, anakin is standing up, wiping your juices from his face and licking them clean off his fingers. "anakin—"

and you think maybe he's going to start again, when he climbs back over you, kissing his way from your collarbone, to your jaw, your fingers confusedly tangling into his hair again. his teeth latch onto the lobe of your ear, tug, and let go, and then.. "tell me, y/n, do you think your dear azariah would like that?"

and quiet ensues, and shock mars onto your face, your lips parting, your eyes going wide, and your blood running dead cold. anakin, with a couple of words, has just ripped a rug from beneath your feet. and you're left on the cold, hard ground, searching for words. and he hovers over your ear like that a moment, all lost, shivers running down your bare spine that was once bounding off this very bed, his bed, and then he's pulling off of you and standing at the edge of the mattress, staring at you with that smug fucking look on his face.

"we'd better hope, hm?" are his last words. and he's gone.

cardan greenbriar has my heart and soul, and i ask he never gives them back 😻😻

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saccharinesunsetretired · 11 months

Text

Stress Relief | L’Manbur x Reader

This is my literal first smut ever, and it took me multiple days to work up the courage to post it lmao

Summary: You once told Wilbur that he was welcome to use you while you were asleep. After a particularly stressful day as president, he decides to take advantage.

Warnings: Somnophilia, rough sex, reader is afab but gender neutral

Word Count: 1.9k

MINORS DNI

It started when you caught him one night. You were asleep, resting your head in your and Wilbur’s new home in L’Manberg. Wilbur truly had tried his best not to wake you, keeping his moans and grunts to a minimum, but his attempts had failed. You caught him at three am, touching himself desperately, head tilted back and eyes closed.

“You know, if you ever need me at night, you can just use me,” you’d said once you were fully awake. He was mortified, at least until you kissed him and made it all better.

After that, there was an agreement between the two of you. Should Wilbur need any late-night stress relief, he was welcome to use you. Being the president of a new and growing nation was one hell of a task, after all, and Wilbur hadn’t even had time to think about sex during the war. Now, he had a bit more time on his hands and a lot of time to make up for. An interesting combination.

He got home late one night after a long and stressful day. The economic state of L’Manberg was…less than ideal, to say the least, and Wilbur had spent all day scribbling down numbers and figures and writing bill proposals. It was exhausting, and the only thing he wanted was your touch.

Unfortunately, he was too late. You were curled up in bed. Not that he could blame you; it was past midnight, and he’d been gone all day. You couldn’t wait around forever.

He remembered the agreement he had with you. He felt dirty, even thinking about doing that, but you had given him explicit consent. Maybe he could use you for this, just once.

He took off his boots and most of his clothing before perching on the edge of the bed. He gazed at you, so peaceful in sleep. He was in nothing but his boxers now, and he slowly stuck a hand down them, teasing his length with his fingers just as you would sometimes do. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine it was you touching him. He sucked in small breaths, running a thumb over the head of his cock, trying to be quiet so as not to wake you.

It didn’t take long for him to go from slightly firm to fully hard, and then he had to figure out the logistics of how he was going to do this. It was hot in the room, seeing as how it was late summer, and thus you weren’t under heavy blankets. That would make this slightly easier. The light blanket you had pulled over yourself was easy enough for Wilbur to push aside.

Your sleeping figure was oh so tempting, and Wilbur had to do his best to restrain himself. He couldn’t put his hands under your shirt, as that would be an unnecessary touch that could wake you. He focused instead on sliding your pajama pants and underwear down enough that he had access to you.

He couldn’t go in without prepping you at all either, so he very slowly and tentatively pressed two fingers against you, circling your clit. He could hear your breath hitch, and he paused, scared you would wake up. You didn’t, and he kept going. You let out a few soft moans, barely audible, which only made him harder. God, he wanted you awake, wanting you gripping his shoulders and crying out his name while he pounded into you with an intensity that would have made the devil clutch his pearls, but he couldn’t have that. Not now.

He opened the bedside table drawer and pulled out a bottle of lube, squirting some out onto his hand. He put some on his fingers, which he proceeded to use to very slowly stretch you out. He was shocked that he hadn’t woken you, but was pleased by it all the same. You deserved sleep.

He rolled on a condom. If you were awake, you would perhaps give an opinion, but considering you were asleep, he felt better being more cautious. He put some lube on his hardened length for good measure, then laid on his side. He rested a hand on your hip before slowly pushing into you, inch by blissful inch until he was all the way inside.

He bit back a moan, face buried in your shoulder, trying to stay quiet. He could hear your breath hitch, hear the soft whimper that left your lips as he buried himself inside of you. It took him a moment to feel comfortable moving at all, but when he did, he did so slowly. His thrusts were gentle and hesitant, as he still wanted you to get as much sleep as you could.

That is, until one accidentally rough jerk of his hips made you moan loud enough that Wilbur was sure he had woken you. Sure enough, he saw you tilt your head to the side to try and look at him. “…Wilbur?” you asked sleepily.

“Shit.” Wilbur slowly pulled out, hearing you gasp as he did so. “Sorry, darling. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“When did you get back?” you asked. You rolled over to face him, and his hands went down your body once he realized that you were sliding your pants and underwear completely off.

“Ten-ish minutes ago,” Wilbur replied. “Sorry, I was just…”

“Needy?” you asked. Wilbur nodded, and you got on your back, slowly letting your legs fall apart.

Wilbur looked at you with an unmistakable hunger. “You sure? It’s late. I don’t want you to be tired tomorrow.”

“Worth it,” you said. “Come on, you’ve been so busy you’ve hardly touched me the past two weeks. Let out some of that pent-up stress, yeah?”

You didn’t need to tell him twice. Wilbur immediately got between your legs, kissing you hungrily, teeth almost clashing with yours. “How rough can I be?” he asked between desperate kisses.

“Rough as you want,” you replied easily. Wilbur let out a sigh of contentment before kissing you one last time.

“You sure you won’t regret saying that?” Wilbur’s hands gripped the underside of your thighs before gently pressing your legs up against your chest.

“I never do.” He saw your eyes flit to his dick, then his face. “Take the condom off.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Wilbur immediately took it off, discarding it on the floor. He could clean that up later. Right now, he had better things to care about. “Ready for me?”

“More than ready, Mr President.” You had called him ‘Mr President’ in bed once just as a joke to tease him, at least until you’d immediately noticed how much he liked it. Since then, your use of it became more regular. Wilbur could never resist that.

He pressed himself against you before burying himself in you, entering in one quick thrust that left you both gasping. He wasted no time, setting a brutal pace, fucking you as if it were his last day on Earth. “Fucking—Prime, you feel so good,” he panted, hips moving rapidly against yours. What had only minutes before been a silent room became filled with the sounds of gasps, moans, and skin slapping against skin. “Needed you.”

“I’m yours, Wil,” you replied. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, just don’t stop.”

“Won’t.” He could already feel the sweat starting to form on his neck and back, but he didn’t care. All he could think about was fucking into you, the feeling of your soft skin, the way your lips parted as you moaned and whined. His country was beautiful, but it couldn’t hold a torch to you.

He watched as you tried to grasp at him, a plan foiled by your legs getting in the way. Instead, your hands went to the back of your thighs, making sure your legs stayed in place. He continued pounding into you, eyes fixed on your face so he could watch every shift in your expression. “Good?” he asked between thrusts. He was going far rougher than usual, and he wanted to make sure you were still comfortable.

He was met with an eager nod. “Please, Wil, please keep going.” Every plea was music to Wilbur’s ears, and your voice gave him some renewed energy to continue. The bed creaked and groaned underneath you, headboard tapping against the wall. Wilbur was grateful that nobody else lived in the house.

He kept going, spurred onward by your desperate pleas and moans. “Gonna fill you, darling,” Wilbur panted.

“Please! Please, Wil, fuck, I’m close.” He could see some tears gathering in your eyes from the intensity of it all, and he considered it a personal victory.

“I got you,” he said. “Cum for me, love, whenever you’re ready.” He did his best to grind his hips against yours with every thrust, giving you as much friction as possible in order to put you over the edge.

It was a success. You cried out his name in a half-moan, half-sob that rang wonderfully in Wilbur’s ears. Wilbur kept going, pounding into you relentlessly through your orgasm and into overstimulation before he came with a gasp and a shudder. He thrust a few more times to work himself through it before going still.

For a moment, Wilbur simply gasped for air and tried to catch his breath. His lips were parted as he panted, and the kiss you pressed at the corner of his mouth was a welcome feeling. It took him a moment to come back to reality enough to kiss you back.

“I needed that,” Wilbur said finally. “God, you were so fucking good for me. That was perfect.” He certainly felt less stressed after that, still in a post-orgasm haze. “Thank you for this.”

“Thank you,” you replied. “It was a nice way to be woken up.”

“Still sorry I woke you,” Wilbur says. You let go of your thighs, and Wilbur leaned back enough that you could let your legs rest instead of keeping them pressed to your chest. He slowly pulled out, his eyes lingering a bit too long on the sight of his cum leaking out of you. He got out from between your parted legs and rested beside you instead. “Feeling okay?”

“Better than okay,” you said. “You don’t need to be sorry.” You cupped his cheek, and he tilted his head to press a kiss to your palm.

“I won’t be sorry, then.” He sighed, letting his eyes close. Sweat clung to strands of his hair, sticking them to his forehead. He felt your gentle touch brushing his hair out of his face. “You’re so good to me,” he murmured.

“You deserve it.” You snuggled up against him, letting him bury his face in the crook of your neck. He inhaled your scent, earth and salt and sweat. “Now get some sleep. You’ve been working hard.”

“I should clean up first,” he says.

“It can wait until morning,” you reply. “Rest.”

Now that he’d had some much-needed stress relief, he felt like he could. It didn’t take long for him to drift off, nestled against you, the worries of tomorrow far from his mind.

#l’manbur x reader #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x reader smut #wilbur soot smut #minors dni #sinful content #saccharine writes

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