#A Swift and Sudden Exit | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

atomicami · 4 months ago

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imagine sharing a cigar with sevika while riding her…(18+ minors DNI)

you’re straddling sevika in bed, her strap on is shielding your pussy in front of her, but she’s briefly moved it to the side so her human hand can play with your clit, getting you nice and wet for you to ride her.

“would you look at that pussy, pretty girl…” she murmurs, watching in awe as your arousal begins to pool onto the harness of her strap, darkening the leather. “think she’s ready for my cock, don’t you think?”

you nod quickly through your whimpers, and before sevika was about to guide you onto her cock, she began to get that sudden itch for a smoke. she groans to herself quietly, her eyes flickering over to her nightstand where she had her pack of cigars resting there. she impulsively grabs the pack but before she opens it, she looks up at you for a moment. “do you mind if i…?”

“go ahead,” you say, signaling her to have one.

with that, sevika pulls out a cigar and brings it to her lips before taking the lighter and flicking it onto the cigar to bring it to life. she tosses the pack and lighter aside, her hands now free to go back to what they were doing.

her hands grab ahold of your hips and she takes note of your hesitation. “c’mon baby, i’ll help you out,” she mutters before breathing the smoke out of her nose. with that, you lift your hips up and align her cock with your tight entrance. you forcefully tease the tip through your folds to get it wet enough before slowly sinking down on it, a soft chain of moans and whimpers escaping your mouth as you do so.

sevika watches in awe, admiring how her cock was impaling into your pussy as she releases another puff of smoke through her mouth. “atta girl, baby…look at you…already taking my cock so well.” you watch with heavy eyes as sevika takes another drag of her cigar, and a new craving starts to hit you. without even asking, you simply reach over and pluck the thick cigar out of sevika’s lips before placing it in between your own. the smoke of the tobacco quickly fills your lungs as you rise your head up to exhale, letting the puff of smoke curl into the air.

sevika blinks, completely off guard. ironically, she never went for girls who smoked—it was actually a dealbreaker for her. but after watching you take a hit—so effortless and bold—it only made her want you more. “didn’t think you had that in you,” she murmurs, her voice now laced with lust.

“mmh…” you whine, gently grinding yourself with sevika’s cock inside you so your pussy adjusts to the length. “just…just needed a little pick me up.” you take another drag out of the cigar, and sevika takes in the sight of you as you close your eyes and tilt your head up again to release the smoke, admiring the way your breasts heaved and how your ribcage expanded as you exhaled the smoke into the air. “f-fuck, i need to move,” you whine again, handing the cigar back to sevika before lifting your hips up and preparing yourself to ride her.

the pace was slow at first, giving sevika the time to take a few more drags out of her cigar before handing it to you, a smirk growing on her face as she watches you trying to multitask between smoking the cigar and riding her cock. you grab the cigar with a shaky hand and bring it to your lips. you try to take a drag, but your body is too fixed on the strap sliding in and out of you, resulting in a couple coughs before the rest of the smoke exits out of your lips.

you hand the cigar back to sevika, only for her to shake her head. “take another hit.”

“i-i can’t, sev…” you whine, more determined to keep riding her and chase after your release. “i need to keep—“

sevika didn’t even let you finish speaking. she wasn’t going to take no for an answer. she snatches the cigar out of your hand and takes a swift drag from it, but she doesn’t exhale just yet. instead, she sits up with her cock still inside you, and with a gentle yet firm grip, she grabs you by the the neck with her mechanical hand to pull you closer to her. with her face now inches away to yours, sevika parts your lips open with her thumb and exhales the smoke into your mouth.

the smoke that sevika forces into you starts to burn into your lungs, causing you to cough multiple times, your body instinctively trying to push it out. her grip on your throat loosens just enough to let you catch your breath. “if i tell you to take another hit, you’ll fucking take it.” she murmurs in a low and commanding tone before letting your neck go completely and lying back down to hit her cigar again.

to your surprise, that last hit that sevika forced into you was just the push that you needed, and you begin to speed up your pace on her cock. you start to push your hips faster, taking sevika by surprise over your sudden burst of energy. “well would you look at that?” she smirks, tightening her grip on your hip with her free hand. “looks like you just needed a little push, yeah? go on then, baby…show me how good my cock feels.”

sevika stays relaxed under you, watching the sight of your helpless self bouncing on her cock as if you were merely just a show to her, all while she finishes the last few drags of her cigar. “f-fuck s-sev…i-i think i’m gonna cum…” you whine out to her, and with those magic words, sevika immediately puts out her cigar on the side of her nightstand before bringing her full attention back to you. she grabs ahold of your hips with both hands now, simply guiding you as you continue to ride her cock at a fast pace. however, that stamina in your body was bound to leave quickly. your legs start to give out, and your hips begin to slow down. “s-sevika, i can’t—“

“oh yes you fucking can.” she interrupts, her metal and flesh hands creating a tighter grip on your hips as she begins to pound into your pussy relentlessly. you yelp in surprise, and your torso falls back but your hands land in time on top of sevika’s thighs to keep you steady. a chain of broken moans escape your mouth and ends with final cry of pleasure as you cum, your cunt squeezing around the strap before creaming over the length from base to tip. you start to feel dizzy, and your body suddenly goes limp. sevika is quick to sit up and catch you from falling before slowly pulling her cock out of you and gently setting you down on the bed next to her.

for a moment, your eyes are fluttered shut as you catch your breath, but they’re quick to open up again once you hear the familiar flickering sound of the lighter. you open your eyes to see that sevika has lit up a fresh new cigar, and a challenging smirk grows on your face when she looks over to you and says:

“think you can handle another round?”

oh, so we’re going again? respectfully pass me that shit.

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zevrra · 11 days ago

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pls can u write a jealous! joel who has just settled into jackson after bringing ellie back from the hospital! if you’d like, can you please have reader be pissed at him because he made her stay behind while he went to drop off ellie:)

CHEMISTRY ✮

𝗳𝘁. jealous/jackson!joel x ex-gf fem!reader

𝘄𝗰. 5k

𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝗱𝗲𝘀: straight smut, age gap, oral (f receiving), fingering, slight dirty talk, cussing, unprotected p in v, coming inside v, feelings involved…

𝗮/𝗻: this is way longer than i wanted it to be but like not even mad about it tbh skdhdjj anyway i hope you enjoy!! :3

You couldn’t believe your eyes.

It had been almost a year since you had last been in Boston. Since you had last seen him. Joel Miller. An ex-lover of yours; who chose a job over staying with you— all because he couldn’t come to terms with the feelings he had for you.

You had crossed the country to find this little settlement you heard other raiders talk about. Packed up and moved away from Boston after waiting and waiting for Joel; who left you cold and lying in your bed alone.

And you were finally starting to be happy again in your little corner of the world. Patrols, tasks, a drink at the bar, meeting other men or women to fill that little hole Joel had left inside your heart.

And now he was here, in Jackson, standing at the other end of the Tipsy Bison, watching you with that heavy gaze you remembered all too well.

Your eyes locked, almost at the exact same time, as if sensing each other’s presence or feeling some kind of pull towards each other.

The live music pumps loud in your ears but the blood rushing to your head is louder. You can feel your pick of the man for the night kissing against your throat, his hands wandering along your body, but you’re not focused on him in the slightest.

But Joel sure is.

Even across the room you can see the storm behind his eyes. The anger, the confusion, the jealousy.

His boots are loud and heavy as he stalks across the hardwood. You try to detach yourself from the man grinding up against you but Joel is faster. One large hand is grabbing the collar of the other man’s shirt, dragging him entirely out of your personal space, and tossing him against the bar’s floor like he’s a damned rag doll.

“Shit! Joel!” You shout, grabbing onto the thick of his bicep and dragging him backwards.

Joel stumbles back, only because it’s you tugging on him.

“Keep your fuckin’ hands off her.” Joel growls, pointing at the man thrown to the floor.

You utter a swift apology to the guy, whose name you didn’t even know, before you’re dragging Joel towards the closest exit.

When the cold winter of Wyoming hits your skin, it feels like your entire body is steaming with how flushed and angry you are. Joel’s just a step behind you so when you suddenly stop and swivel on your heel to face him, he’s standing directly behind you.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” You scoff, pure disgust dripping off your tongue. It tastes sour, unfamiliar to you when you were so used to speaking to him with so much love.

Joel’s eyebrows knit in confusion. As if he half expected you to fling yourself into his arms and cry his name at his sudden return.

“Me? What about you? He was all over ya!” Joel sneers with a deep frown settling onto his face.

You laugh in disbelief at his statement, unable to wrap your head around what he was saying. “Yeah, Joel, that’s the whole fuckin’ point.” You curse under your breath, rubbing a hand across your face. The warmth of a headache was already beginning to crawl its way across your mind.

“And you think that’s alright?” Joel huffs in similar disgust, pushing his jacket aside so his hands can settle on his hips.

You roll your eyes at him, pointing an accusatory finger his way. “I ‘member you leavin’ me back in Boston, so yeah, I think it’s alright.”

Now it’s his turn to roll his eyes. “You promised to wait for me.” He whispers, seething with jealousy and anger.

His words chill you more than the cold of Wyoming does, makes you shudder and hug yourself a little tighter to fight off the cold.

“Dammit Joel! I did wait! I waited for months before deciding to move on. You still left me! Choose a job over me!” You shout right back, almost pushing up onto your tippy toes to be eye level with Joel just so he could also see the anger in your eyes.

Joel scowls down at you. “Apparently you didn’t wait that long. Was the bed even cold?”

That’s it. Those words nail the coffin close. You had told yourself that maybe, if you had ever run into Joel again, you’d find a small little piece of your heart left big enough to forgive him for asking you to stay behind and wait for him.

“I can’t believe this.” You whisper, throwing your hands up in defeat. “Fuck you, Joel. Don’t talk to me again.”

You spin on your heel, demanding your legs to move, stalking through the snow in search of the path that would take you home. You’d forget everything in the morning. Boston, him, those months of waiting—everything.

“Now wait here—“ Joel’s voice chases after you and he takes three simple strides to catch up to you, a strong hand grabbing your bicep and holding you still.

You try once to shake out of his grasp but it doesn’t work, he’s got ahold of you now. He turns you back to him, forcing you to face him, as he plants himself before you once again.

“I’m sorry.” Joel says, his breath fogging up into the cold night’s air. “I’m…a fucking idiot. And I’m sorry.”

The words make you feel a little lightheaded hearing them. Joel, apologizing? The man you knew back in Boston, the raider you knew, would have never said sorry. Not even if his life depended on it.

What the fuck happened on this “job” he took?

Silence stretches between the two of you for a few heartbeats. Letting his apology sink further and further into your skin and bones.

“You don’t get to just…apologize and make everything okay again.” You whisper, eyes fluttering under his gaze. Suddenly the cold has reduced your anger to nothing but smothered coals. You wouldn’t admit that maybe your heart was betraying you just a little…because this definitely wasn’t the man you knew roughly a year ago.

“I know, I know.” Joel’s voice cools, the anger and jealousy subsiding, leaving just a hollow pain to his tone. “I’m sorry. I just, dammit, I don’t know. Seeing you with someone else…all this time, I thought maybe you were gone…and I would never see ya again. But…think it’s worse seein’ ya with someone else.”

Your heart pounds inside your chest at his words. This…vulnerable side of him was something you had not expected to ever see or hear. Listening to him mutter his feelings and his apologies all in one night? Unheard of. Even if it was all over something as silly as jealousy…it was strange; new. Made you feel like a little girl with butterflies in her stomach.

“Well, I didn’t die, as you can see.” You reply, embarrassment fanning over your cheeks. Silly to feel so…young and dumb again. But you weren’t dead, even though the last several months had tried their hardest to kill you. “Now, let go. I’d like to go home.”

Joel doesn’t move an inch though. Instead he’s stepping closer to you, his fingers trailing down the length of your arm until they gently wrap around your wrist. He brings the back of your chilled fingers to the cusp of his warm lips, placing a tender kiss against your skin.

“Let me make it up to you, shuga,” Joel whispers, slow and heavy in his Texan accent. Knowing exactly how to tug on your heart strings.

You narrow your eyes, glancing over him once more. Time wasn’t kind to him either, it seemed. The graying in his hair was worsening. You could see at least a handful of new scars on his face. But something else had changed…something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. And you couldn’t tell if it was a good thing or a really fucking bad thing at the moment.

You swipe your hand from his grasp, the cold holding your hand now as his warmth leaves the tips of your fingers. You glance towards the ground and the snow underneath your boots, tapping your foot ever so slightly as you try and decide what to do.

A heavy sigh leaves your lips and you shove your hand into the pocket of your jacket. No more hand holding; for now. “Don’t disappoint me, cowboy.” You fire back at him, calling him by his old nickname to rile him up— before you lead him to your little home in Jackson.

You expect the roughness. Expect the door to slam behind you with him stripping you out of your jacket the second he passes the door— like the good ole days. Raider Joel wanted to devour you. Wanted to taste every inch of you while you screamed his name. He used to need the pleasure to numb his mind. Needed you so badly it hurt him.

But now it’s just a little different.

The door closes softer when you arrive back to your place. The light stays off, no visitors right now, but with the help of a little moonlight you can still see his face and weathered eyes.

He stands right in front of you. Taking in every inch of you with his hungry gaze. The way your hair falls is even prettier than he remembered. How you still smelled faintly of some pretty floral soap. The way your eyes still scan his face, looking at him like he was everything you had ever wanted.

Joel reaches behind his back to take off his jacket. It’s slow and precise, stripping it off his broad upper half, before letting it fall onto the back of a nearby rocking chair. His fingers work on rolling up the sleeves to his flannel, pushing the fabric farther and farther along his tanned forearms.

His fingers move to brush against your side, pushing up and up until he’s stripping you of your own jacket— slow and steady—before he tosses your coat right next to his, moving to work on getting you out of your shirt. Strong hands grab the hem and tug it leisurely above your head. Taking his time in undressing you— teasing you.

But fuck if the slow pace he sets isn’t almost a little painful. Everything he does, every move he makes, feels so strategic and meticulously planned out— like he’s been thinking about doing this with you every single day since you two strayed from each other.

The worst part, you think, is that he does it all in silence. He doesn’t speak or say anything for the moment. No quip or dirty jab to get under your skin to make him fuck you faster. It’s just him, and his eyes, drinking you in like it’s the first time he’s ever seen something so delicate before…and he wants to be careful not to spook you.

It makes your heart pound, hard, against your ribs. Playing a melody that only he could hear as every precise touch is slowly driving you crazy; forcing your lungs to expand faster to the point that you’re panting standing still as stone.

His fingers raise and slowly push back some hair behind your ear. You flinch just a little, expecting the rougher side of him to take over but instead his soft gaze returns to scanning your face.

The tips of his fingers trail down to follow along your jawline, where he tilts your head back. His lips brush against your forehead first, your temple second, and then finally— ever so gently— he lays his lips onto yours.

The kiss is tender and soft, as if he’s scared you’ll run away. But when you stand firm, following his lead, he presses on. Placing another firmer kiss against your lips. And another. One more, faster, more daring. Another one that melts you into him.

Joel’s hand leaves your jaw to cradle the back of your neck, pulling your mouth closer, closer, closer, into his. The quick pecks are replaced by longing, desired filled, hot, open mouth kisses. His pace quickens until the living room is filled with the sound of your chaotic and sloppy make out; where tongue and teeth alike collide.

Your lips gnash into his own, breath quickening with each twist of your mouth. Your entire body hums with his touch. Can feel his thumb rub soothingly across your skin as his other hand settles on your hip, dragging you just that much closer into his body. You’re chest to chest and the thought of you two being perfectly made to fit each other crosses your mind before it’s gone; being replaced by a swipe of his tongue.

You groan as the taste of him spreads like honey, sticky and sweet inside your mouth. It’s warm and welcoming as you roll your tongue into his. And you kiss him with as much vigor and eagerness as you can muster.

You’re a little ashamed to admit you’re the first to break, gasping for air and clutching onto the front of his flannel. Your head is spinning but Joel never falters, not even a little.

“Bedroom?” Joel whispers under his breath, lips roaming down the curve of your jaw. He kisses firmly down onto your throat, his beard just barely scratching across your throat. His teeth nip at your skin while he moves his hands across the curve of your body, molding you in your hands like a precious sculpture– until he lays his hands heavy onto your hips again.

“Bedroom.” You respond, jerking your head in the direction of the bedroom sitting just behind you.

Without another word, he backs you up into your bedroom, guiding you with his fingers tangling into the loops of your jeans. Somehow in the mix of the make out session, he’s skillfully stripped you of your bra, leaving you topless as you make your way to the bed.

Joel walks you right up to the edge of your bed, forcing your knees to buckle, and lets you fall onto your mattress with a whoosh. He doesn’t let you relax though, when he’s already working you out of your jeans.

He strips you of your jeans. Quick and easy, and as soon as the fabric hits the floor he’s slotting himself between your thighs. The flat of his palm smooths upwards across the curve of your cunt, already aching and begging for him.

“Lace?” Joel mumbles, fingers rubbing against the lacy panties you wear, right where your clit is. His lips hover over your lower abdomen. His warm breath spreads along your womb before he places a tender kiss against your tummy.

You shiver at his words but still manage to roll your eyes, even as his fingers press against your core. You silently curse your body for betraying you so easily. Already drenched for him with barely any stimulation like you were back in Boston.

“Shut up,” You sigh, teasingly, pushing your fingers through his graying hair. “Just enjoy. I had to trade some serious shit for ‘em.”

“Mhm.” Joel breathes. He places another hot kiss against your womb, his fingers hooking around the thin part of your panties and giving them a sharp tug. The fabric gives way to his strong hands easily; ripping the lace right off your body.

You gasp as he tears away your underwear, eyes widening as you stare down at him with a shocked look. “Joel!? What the fuck!”

“You wore these for other men.” Joel growls, soft and warm, lips barely just brushing against the bare skin of your stomach as he speaks. “I’ll get you another pair…that you’ll only wear for me.” He chuckles, dark and deep from within his chest, sliding his thumb up against the bundle of nerves that call for him.

“Ugh, enough of this jealousy bullshit.” You mumble, settling your legs heavy against his shoulders. Oh he was for sure gonna make it up to you tonight; especially after ripping your underwear.

“Pretend all you want,” Joel whispers. Another kiss against your womb. “I know you’re enjoying this…” He trails off. His thumb slides away from your clit, threading through the wet seam of your cunt, circling that fluttering little place that is increasingly coming to yearn for him. “Just look here, you’re soaked.”

You can feel the heat of a blush stretching across your face at his words. Damn him for being right…and damn your body again for betraying you!

“Well then you better fuckin’ do somethin’ about it, cowboy.” You huff, tugging slightly on his hair.

Joel laughs at the pet name rolling off your tongue, replacing his thumb with a thick finger he easily slips into the velvet soft of your cunt. “With pleasure.” He mumbles before his lips attach to the flat of your aching core. No more talking, he had work to do.

His tongue darts out immediately, pressing through the folds of your pussy while he curls his finger inside. He returns to his slow pace from before. Drags his finger in and out of your core, making sure you feel every inch, every bump of his knuckle, as he twists and turns it inside of you. Makes you feel the entire length, from the tip of his finger to the base of his knuckle.

Joel’s tongue doesn’t move any faster either. He slowly presses and brushes his tongue along your clit in agonizingly slow rolls. Spit dripping off his tongue to mix with your increasing slick, making it easier for his finger to move in and out— teasing you beyond teasing at this point.

You groan at the fleeting pleasure. Just when you think it’s going to be a rush, a flurry of his fingers stretching you out, he takes it away. He’s moving just enough to leave you wanting more. And damn if he doesn’t know it.

But damn if it wasn’t working wonders on you. Your entire body trembles under his well talented hands; leaving you breathless and trembling. He knew your body so well you’re almost convinced he may have crafted you out of some piece of wood with his bare hands at some point.

Joel twists the finger inside of you until his palm is facing upwards and just when you think he’s going to remove his finger, he slips a second one inside. Your hips lift to meet the sharp thrust of his second finger, moaning his name as your hand tightens in his hair.

His fingers thrust faster inside of you now, just a little more than before but not enough to pull you over the edge. He was saving that for just the right moment. His fingers spread deep inside of you, stretching you out with every thrust, while his tongue flicks back and forth against your clit.

“Joel! Quit teasin’!” You huff, trembling at every deep thrust of his fingers. You can feel him chuckle against your cunt, sending an electric shock through your entire body.

But for once this entire night, he listens to you. Joel’s fingers pick up in pace, thrusting deep and shallow into your core. He doesn’t let you live with that long before his pace changes again; his fingers curl before he’s digging into you. His entire hand is moving up and down, instead of in and out, forcing right into every sensitive spot deep inside. It’s faster and rougher, burning hot through your entire body.

“Fuck!” You whine, lifting your free hand to palm at your closest breast. Once your fingers roll over the nub of your nipple, you know you’re not going to last long at all.

You’ve quickly become coiled tight, ready to leap over the edge, ready for your orgasm to burn right through every inch of your body with every thrust of his fingers and dance of his tongue. Your legs scramble, your thighs tighten, back arches and you’re close, close, close—

But just before that thin line holding you together snaps, Joel removes his fingers and backs off. Edges you straight into a spiraling mess of whines and pleas; exactly what he wants.

“Not yet. Not until I say so, sweetheart.” Joel huffs softly, rubbing calming circles into the thick of your inner thighs to bring you back down to him.

“You asshole…” You groan deeply, sitting up onto your elbows to stare down at him.

Joel’s lips tilt in a smirk, kissing your knee before he straightens up to his full height. “Needy?” He asks with a teasing tone you’re not really used to yet.

You roll your eyes, lifting a weak leg and pushing into his hip, forcing him just a little to stumble backwards.

He’s quick to undress himself then, clearly just as needy as you are, starting with his belt buckle. You listen to him undo the front of his belt before sliding it free from his belt loops. Once he kicks off his jeans, leaving him in his boxers, you try your hardest not to stare at the tent under the fabric. Clear as day, leaking, and hard as a rock.

You turn your gaze away briefly, blushing like it’s your first time fucking seeing him…but it was also a little comforting knowing you weren’t the only one enjoying this.

When your gaze returns to him, he’s taking off his flannel shirt, and your breath catches in your throat– but for reasons outside of what was going on.

You stare at his abdomen, where a large scar is smeared across his skin. “This is new…” You whisper, sitting up solely to stretch out to him, trailing your fingers down the scar along his midriff; shaping its size with the tips of your fingers.

“Eh, lil somethin’ I picked up on the job. Call it karma.” Joel responds with a twitch of his lips, a smile, before he tosses his shirt off and onto the floor. He makes himself comfy on the bed where his hands grab hold of you, dragging you up and into his lap.

You stifle a laugh at his joke. Maybe it really was karma for leaving you…but a dark, twisted feeling flutters through your heart briefly. The scenario of him dying somewhere, alone, with maybe the thought of you on his mind— without you ever knowing…the thought hurts much more than you were willing to admit in the moment. But it’s quickly swept away when Joel presses a kiss into your throat.

“Don’t get distracted now. I’m right here.” Joel hums softly, hands sliding up the side of your body.

You instinctively wrap your body around him. Legs hooking behind his back and your arms sliding around his shoulders. Hugging him as close as your bodies would allow.

“Yeah, I gotcha baby.” Joel mumbles in response to your clingy hands. One large hand falls onto your lower back, rubbing soft, soothing circles into your skin. His other hand trails down to your knee, where he adjusts the both of you perfectly, lining himself up against the drip of your seam. The tip of his cock sweeps through your drenched lips, gathering any of his spit or your slick onto the head to make it all just a little easier.

Then he steadily, almost cautiously, presses into you. The burn of his cock spears you but the stretch of him is forgiving with the pleasure it brings. His name rolls off the tip of your tongue as your pussy accepts more and more of him– stuffing every inch deep inside of you with ease. Your breath quickens as you suck more of him inside until there’s nothing more for him to give.

He bottoms out, cursing under his breath at the tightness surrounding his cock, gripping your body just a little rougher as he forces himself to still; allowing you to fully catch your breath and relax around him.

When he finally begins to move, Joel rolls into you, slow and steady like he has been all night. He hooks your leg back around his waist, his hand returning to lay heavy on your hip. He tentatively thrusts up into you; not harsh like a storm but more calming, relaxing– like a wave you float on. He reaches deeper than you remember; and with you sitting in his lap, his hands spread out against your hip and back, lips attached to your neck, all your senses sky rocket to an eleven.

“Fuck Joel,” You groan, meeting every slow roll of his hips with your own.

“Mmm, yeah baby, ya like that?” Joel whispers against your skin, sinking his teeth down onto a thicker part of your throat, marking you as his. He was gonna make sure if…this didn't work out, any man for the next few weeks would at least know you were made for someone else.

You don’t…hate it though.

Joel thrusts shallowly but just like with his fingers, he’s easily pressing into every sensitive curve inside your pussy. Your mouth falls open as your bodies connect again and again. You clench around his weeping cock as he bottoms out again and again inside of you with every roll of his hips. Feeling a little victorious as Joel curses under his breath at the tightness wrapping around him but it doesn’t last long when you’re already leaping for that damn ledge he edged you back from earlier.

“Mm, Joel,” You whine his name, fingers kneading into the thick of his shoulders, head tilted back as he places another harsh mark on your throat. And he knows you’re close. Knows everything about you that it makes you want to weep in his arms and stay there with him—forever.

Joel stops though. Edges you yet again and it makes you sob. He just doesn’t want to admit that with his age…he was also reaching the end a little earlier than he used to. It probably didn’t help with the way you moan his name, so sinful yet light— like it was the only word you knew how to speak. Or when you were so wet and drooling all over him; or clenching around him so tight he could see stars.

“Wanna hear you say it,” Joel breathes, fire and ice prickling along your skin. “Say you’re mine.” He adds with a hum against your throat.

Joel stays completely still deep inside of you, throbbing against your velvet walls that scream for him to move.

You bite down on your bottom lip, silencing yourself for a second before just absentmindedly obeying him and his words. You almost want to be difficult, to scream and yell at him that this wasn’t the time and place for his jealous ass to be taking over; but god was it hot. From the start, speaking next to no words to now panting hard against your skin, whispering the filthiest of things.

“C’mon baby…” Joel chuckles softly, rolling his hips to dig deep inside of you– making stars dance across your eyes. “Say it. You’re fuckin’ mine.”

You shiver in his grasp, releasing your bottom lip and letting your mouth fall open to speak what he (and you) both want to hear. “Yours!” You shout, nails digging into the thick of his shoulders.

Joel hardly waits for you to catch your breath before he’s digging deep into your core again. His hips jut forward, picking up his pace the second that word leaves the tip of your tongue. He moves faster, thrusting harsher again and again into your pussy. You swear he’s hitting your womb in this position and it strips any air from your lungs. You feel him deeper and fuller than you’ve ever done so before and you already know you’re not going to last long with the sudden, brutal pace he sets.

“Repeat it.” Joel growls. His grip on your hip tightens, using your body to meet every single one of his thrusts.

“Yours!” You gasp, legs locking tighter around his entire waist. You follow his lead with every single thrust, rolling into meet them. If your mouth was open, you’re sure you’d be drooling from the mind numbing pleasure running it’s coarse throughout your entire body. “Fuck! I’m yours, all yours Joel!” You babble, tears springing to the corner of your eyes.

Joel chuckles deeply, skimming his lips from your throat, where he’s left your skin a blossom of reddening petals, to your jaw. “All mine. No one else gets you. Not ever again…” He mutters, leaning back ever so slightly so he can see your eyes.

Unfocused as much as they are, Joel still captures your gaze. You briefly look into the warmth of his eyes before his lips capture yours. He kisses you once again, buried deep into your quivering cunt, setting a flame beneath your skin.

It doesn’t take long now for your orgasm to spread through your entire womb. It blooms swiftly, taking hold of every one of your senses. His name sticks to your tongue as you coil up tighter around him. Your legs lock behind his back, your hands slide to cup the back of his neck as you kiss him deeper while your orgasm rocks through you. Your hips jerk wildly and you clench down hard around him, gasping between every small part of broken lips.

Joel breaks the kiss this time, gasping wildly for air between clenched teeth. He growls, like a wild animal chasing after its prey, and bites down on his lip hard enough to bleed. He lets his head fall, forehead resting on top of your shoulder as he comes at the same time you do. He continues to roll into your gushing pussy, painting the insides with his own orgasm. Fucks you into overstimulation— broken sobs and the wet sound of splashing off skin echoes in your bedroom— until he’s entirely finished himself.

Then silence stretches. Neither of you move, neither of you speak— only gasp for air. You continue to sit perfectly still in his lap, fingers rubbing into his sweaty skin. His own fingers run soothingly along your back.

“I’m never letting you go again,” Joel breathes, breaking that built up silence, as he comes back down from his own high. His breath is warm across your body like a summer’s sun. “Never leavin’ you again.”

The declaration makes your head lighter than your orgasm ever could. Joel was a different man. Muttering soft words you have never expected to hear from him. But the cherry on top that sends you spiraling into tears?

Three little words.

“I love you.”

@ 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐙𝐄𝐕𝐑𝐑𝐀 | 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐄𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖/𝐎 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍

@lowrisemiller

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mariasont · 9 months ago

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Sending another thought that I can’t think of a way to elaborate on to your magnificent mind

Aaron Hotchner with his assistant who’s rambling (like every other day) about random stuff and she’s just like “I want kids someday” and Hotch is like “oh yea?” And she’s like “yea! And if I ever have kids I hope they’re just like Jack, he’s such a little angel” blah blah blah and poor Hotch is screaming in his mind like YOU COULD HAVE JACK??? BE HIS STEPMOM????

Sorry I’m absolutely feral for them ily bye

BUSINESS OF MAKING BABIES - A.H

a/n: i took this in a slightlyyyy different direction but ugh same im so feral for these two!!!! thank you for your most amazing request! i <3 you!

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

warnings: references to baby making!!!!!!

wc: 0.6k

Aaron needed to get work done, but his focus was more trained on the delicate patch of skin that connected your shoulder to your neck, smooth and glowing like you'd just stepped out of the sun. You smelled delectably good, which was sending his neurons into overdrive. You were saying something, formulating and articulating thoughts from that perfect brain and through your also perfect mouth.

He was concentrated on making sure you knew he was listening, nodding and humming every so often as you continued on your tangent, hands waving dramatically through the air, heels clanking on the floor in his office as you paced the room. His gaze moved to your thighs, only for a second, he was a gentleman after all.

"And she's just, you know, popping them out left and right, and I'm over here like, Hello? Can I get a turn? I'm not asking for much, just a sweet guy who's willing to, you know, help me out with the whole baby-making thing."

You stopped dead in front of his desk, placing your hands atop the wood as you let out a melodramatic sigh. This caught his attention, eyes snapping up to meet yours.

"You want kids?" The words left his mouth before he could filter them. "Isn't that a bit premature at your age?"

"Okay, Grandpa," you giggled, plopping yourself down in the chair before him. "And, of course, I want babies. They'd be the cutest, hopefully just like Jack. He's the sweetest, isn't he?"

Hotch felt his heart plummet to his stomach, jaw clenching and unclenching as he rubbed his thumb along the rough edges of his chin. "Yeah, he's pretty great."

You sighed again, a common occurrence in this conversation, as you stood up and moved around the desk before plopping yourself down on it. Your calve grazed accidentally against his thigh. You absentmindedly adjusted a wrist full of charm bracelets, creating a gentle jingling sound that should've annoyed him, but it did anything but.

"Honestly, though, who even needs a boyfriend these days? I could totally just take the whole donor route for the baby thing. Easy-peasy!"

Hotch's response came after a brief, flustered pause, during which he seemed to search for the right words. Clearing his throat, he managed to look anywhere but at you as he carefully said, "Ah, yes, I suppose you could... do that."

In an effort to regain some semblance of control over the situation, Hotch took a deliberate sip of the somewhat stale coffee sitting on his desk. However, before he could swallow, you bounded off the desk, eyes wide with sudden realization.

"You know what? You would be a great donor."

The coffee in Hotch's mouth nearly made a swift exit as he choked, trying to comprehend what you had just said.

Hotch opened his mouth, attempting to form a coherent response, but before he could broker a single word, you had both hands on his shoulders.

Your eyes were sparkling as you took in his face. "Yeah, like, you have great hair--totally not receding--perfect eyes, great skin..."

Your rapid-fire compliments left him momentarily speechless, a rare flush making its way to his cheeks.

"Well, I--" Hotch began, but your excitement had already taken the reins before he could even navigate through his thoughts.

"I can totally see it; we'd have such cute kids!" you gushed, practically dancing towards the door as if your dreams were almost tangible in the air.

Hotch watched you leave, stuck in his chair, dumbfounded and momentarily lost for words. A bemused smile formed on his lips as he realized he didn't hate the idea at all.

No sooner had the door closed behind you than Morgan appeared, looking thoroughly baffled. He crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze flicking between Hotch and the door you had just exited through.

"Since when are you and Miss Pretty in Pink in the business of making babies together?"

taglist: @readergf @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179 @malindacath @freyy253 @broadwaytraaaaash @sunfyyre @sleepysongbirdsings @trulycayla @crouchingapple @navia3000 @aaronlovesava @bakugocanstompme @pansexualhailstorm @averyhotchner @looking1016 @everythinglizzy @sky2nd @messylxve @alexxavicry @yaykeira @spencerssatchel @candyd1es @storiesofsvu @pleasantwitchgarden @kodzukenmaaa @hiireadstuff @dilflover-3 @spenciesslut @phoenix-le-danseur-de-pole @deadofnight0 @sabmichell @jstcln @just-here-to-read13 @c-losur3 @wondergal2001

join my taglist here!

#aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x bimbo!reader #aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader #aaron hotchner x bimbo reader

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kxsagi · 2 months ago

Note

hii i love the way you write the bllk characters. can i request sae itoshi x reader where the reader attracts a lot of attention from men and they start flirting with her but she’s so oblivious and dense so she doesn’t see it that way, but sae realizes and gets jealous and reveals their relationship to the public even though they were supposed to keep it private so no one would harass the reader online or get swamped with questions by interviewers?? sorry if this is confusing, ty in advance :3

“𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞”

a/n: thank you!!!

i just know sae would be so possessive or maybe i'm being delusional

his hair is disastrous (i want him to yell at me)

(header art credits go to coa357951)

sae had always been a man of precision. he read the field like a seasoned strategist, calculating every move before the other players could even see it coming. that was how he operated in life, too, meticulous, composed, and annoyingly good at keeping his emotions on lockdown.

but right now? right now, he was fuming.

he watched you from across the room, arms folded, jaw clenched so tightly it could’ve cracked a diamond. his sharp eyes, as perceptive as ever, caught every glance sent your way. every lingering stare. every guy who wandered just a little too close. and worst of all, you didn’t notice a thing.

“oh, you’re funny!” you laughed, oblivious as hell, after what was definitely a weak attempt at a joke. sae knew it was weak because he could hear it from where he stood. something about traffic lights or oranges. gosh, it was so unfunny.

and yet, there you were, all smiles, eyes sparkling, just being your usual kind self. and they were eating it up.

sae scowled. your warmth, the very thing he adored, was now driving him insane.

he knew you weren’t flirting. you were just being friendly, the way you always were. but these men? they were definitely flirting. sae could see it in their eyes, in the way they leaned in, in how they made their voices lower and smoother. one of them even had the audacity to brush his knuckles over your wrist when you handed him a drink.

that was the final straw.

without thinking, sae pushed off the wall, storming toward you with the same lethal grace he carried on the field. his hand found your waist, possessive and firm, and before you could blink, he tugged you flush against his side.

“what –” you turned, blinking up at him with wide, confused eyes.

“we’re leaving,” he muttered, voice low and clipped, and in one swift motion, he was guiding you toward the exit.

the VIP lounge room quieted slightly at the sudden display. people stared. reporters froze mid-sentence. and your eyes widened when you realized sae wasn’t just walking next to you, he was holding your hand. in public.

the same hand he always tugged into his coat pocket when paparazzi were nearby. the same hand he always let go of before he stepped onto the field.

“sae…?” you whispered, brows furrowed in confusion.

but he didn’t answer. instead, he kept walking, grip firm, jaw tight. and by the time you were outside, you heard the first faint camera clicks.

“sae, what are you –”

he stopped abruptly, turning to face you. his teal eyes were sharp, turbulent, like a brewing storm. for a moment, he just stared at you. then, without a word, he leaned in.

his lips crashed against yours.

it wasn’t soft or hesitant, it was bold, deliberate. he kissed you in front of everyone, in front of the cameras, in front of the world. his hand slid up to your jaw, keeping you in place as if daring you to pull away. when he finally parted from you, the warmth of his breath lingered on your lips.

stunned, you gawked at him. “what… what was that?”

his eyes were still dark, almost challenging. his voice was low, rough around the edges. “you’re mine.”

your heart stuttered. you blinked at him, unsure whether you’d misheard. surely he didn’t just –

“mine,” he repeated, firmer this time, like he was making it clear to everyone who dared to look.

the murmurs and whispers around you grew louder. phones were out. flashes were going off. the reporters were practically salivating. sae itoshi, the notoriously private prodigy, just revealed he was in a relationship.

you grabbed his wrist, pulling him slightly away from the growing crowd. “sae, what the hell?” you hissed, panic bubbling in your chest. “you know this is going to blow up! we agreed to keep it private! what about the media? the interviews? the harassment –”

“i don’t care,” he cut you off sharply, eyes flashing with something fierce. “i don’t care about them. they can think whatever the hell they want.”

he was still fuming, nostrils flaring slightly. his hand was still gripping your waist, like he was afraid you might slip away.

“they were flirting with you,” he muttered darkly, almost like he was still processing it, as if the thought itself made his blood boil.

you blinked. “… what?”

he stared at you like you were hopeless. “are you serious?” he let out a humorless scoff. “they were all over you. you didn’t even notice.”

“i didn’t –” you frowned, baffled. “they were just being nice. we were just talking –”

“no. they weren’t being nice.” his voice was clipped, sharp. “they were looking at you like they wanted you.”

you were still processing his words when he suddenly leaned down again, brushing his lips over yours. this time, softer. slower. more possessive than impulsive. he kissed you like he needed to remind you who you belonged to.

his forehead rested against yours when he pulled away, his breath uneven. “let them know,” he muttered, voice low and rough. “let them all know you’re mine.”

your chest tightened. you searched his eyes, still slightly shocked by the public display, but the intensity in his gaze left no room for hesitation.

“okay,” you whispered softly.

his eyes softened slightly, only for you. “good.”

and just like that, sae itoshi, the cold, stoic, untouchable soccer prodigy, walked back through the crowd with your hand in his, unbothered by the flashing cameras or the wide-eyed reporters scrambling for their questions.

because the only thing that mattered to him was the fact that everyone finally knew you were his.

#sae itoshi #itoshi sae #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae x reader #sae itoshi blue lock #itoshi sae blue lock #blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk #bllk x reader #i need this man #sae itoshi is my favorite food #not so private anymore

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guiltyasdave · 1 year ago

Text

delicate

pairing: modern!Oberyn Martell x f!reader

word count: ~3.9k

summary: You meet a mysterious man at a club. He's just as attracted to you as you are to him.

warnings/tags: explicit smut (-> 18+ only!), alcohol consumption, able-bodied reader, no use of y/n, very soft dom!Oberyn, protected p in v (who am I), dirty talk, fingering, anal play (m receiving), a hint of angst, romance because I can't help myself

a/n: written for @dancingtotuyo’s on repeat drabble challenge, based on the song delicate by taylor swift. this is honestly just feral, i have nothing to say for myself.

dividers as always by @saradika-graphics <3

find my full masterlist here and follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for fic updates!

Lights are flashing, colors dancing over the exposed skin of your arms and shoulders; the bass is pumping, making your whole body feel like it’s vibrating from within. You’re clinging to your friend, your arms intertwined as you navigate your way through the crowd of people to the bar.

You first see him as you’re gulping down your drink, welcoming the cool liquid in your parched throat. Your eyes are observing the crowd, flying over him and then flickering back to take a second glance.

He’s gorgeous, his dark hair a mess, a beard framing his face, his skin shining under the lights. He’s wearing a shirt that flows around his body, threads of gold weaving through the fabric and reflecting the dancing lights. It’s almost entirely undone, giving you a generous look at the expanse of his toned chest, at the sun-kissed skin that you feel a sudden urge to run your fingers over. A massive gold chain with a lock hangs around his neck, an accessory that you’re convinced would look absolutely ridiculous on anyone else. But on him, it somehow only accentuates the strong cords of muscle that ripple under his skin in a way that makes you want to lick your lips.

He moves with a confident ease, his body in tune with the stomping beats, his whole being exuding an almost cocky self-assuredness. You keep drinking him in, fascinated in a way that you can barely understand. You realize that you’ve been staring when your friend follows your line of sight and you hear her quiet gasp beside you.

“Haven’t seen that one around before,” her voice floats into your ear over the music and you shake your head in silent agreement. You’d definitely remember if you did.

You both watch him move with the body of a woman next to him, watch him bend down to whisper something into her ear, watch the way his lips curl into a smug grin as she grinds against him in reaction to his words.

“Too late, I guess,” you laugh, downing the rest of your drink and tearing your eyes away.

The two of you head back into the crowd, swaying your bodies to the beat. You try to get lost in the feeling of it, but your eyes keep searching for him, hungrily grasping at the glimpses of him that you can spot. Eventually, you watch the retreating backs of both of him and the woman head toward the exit, their bodies closely intertwined. Like you said, you try to shrug it off, too late. It’s not a big deal, there’s more than enough other guys around you.

But you don’t go home with any of those guys, none of them able to catch your interest the way he did, and when you lie in bed in the early morning hours, your head pleasantly buzzing with the remaining alcohol in your bloodstream, you still see him behind your eyelids.

A few weeks go by and while you hope to catch him every time that you’re out, there’s no trace of him. It isn’t until your friend’s birthday celebration, a tradition that the two of you have kept up for years, that you see him again.

Again, you’re leaning against the bar, your eyes aimlessly drifting over the dancefloor while you’re sipping on your drink, when you spot him. He’s wearing another colorful shirt, his chest almost entirely on display, and he’s shamelessly grinding against another young man as they’re both moving to the beat. You can’t tear your eyes away, apparently staring so intently that he catches you and throws you a wink across the room.

You feel heat rising in your cheeks and almost turn away, but he’s already on his way, moving towards you with a cat-like grace, effortlessly weaving through the crowd of moving bodies.

“Hey,” he says, leaning into you so close that his breath fans hot against your ear, causing goosebumps to rise on your neck. “Saw something you like?”

You grin at him over the rim of your glass, biting your lip and nodding. He mirrors your grin, an almost predatory glint in his eyes. He’s even more gorgeous up close, a light sheen of sweat on his face and his eyes a smoldering brown, his dark hair a mess with strands sticking to his forehead. You take in his toned chest, his broad shoulders and you desperately want to touch your hands to his golden skin. A foreign accent is lacing his words in the most delicious way, only adding to the pull that you feel towards him.

“Let me buy you another drink,” he purrs and you accept, thanking him and offering him your name. You relish in the way you have to lean into him so that he can hear you, greedily soaking in his scent and his body heat that make your mouth water.

His name is Oberyn, you learn, a name that sounds foreign on your tongue and you could swear that a quiet growl rises up his throat when you repeat it back to him.

You’d love to spend your evening dancing with him, pressing your body against his, find out if moving with him feels as good as it looks from the outside. But it’s your friend’s birthday, and you’re gonna stick together, dance the night away with each other and no one else, the way you do every year.

He shrugs it off when you tell him as much, an unbothered grin on his face as he promises you another time then. His hand wraps around your wrist, the warmth of it sinking into your skin as he pulls your arm out towards him, a black marker suddenly in his other hand.

“What are you–” you begin to ask, but your voice dies at the sight of him pulling the cap off with his teeth, something that really shouldn’t affect you this much.

He bends over your arm and it takes your hazy mind a moment to register that he’s writing numbers onto your skin. You’re getting lost in the feeling of his hand on you, even in such an innocent place, and your thoughts are already jumping to fantasies of how it would feel trailing up your arm and over your body.

“There,” his voice floats into your ear and you almost jump. The smug look on his face leaves no doubt that he knows exactly what kind of effect he has on you. He leans in close again, so close that you can feel his breath on your skin. Your mouth feels dry.

You look down at your arm, now adorned with digits in black ink. A phone number.

“Give me a call,” he smirks, and leans in even closer, until his lips move against the shell of your ear and a shudder runs down your back at the sensation. “Just think of the fun things we could do.” He throws you another wink and slides away from you, back into the crowd.

You text him the next day, worried if it’s too soon, if it makes you seem desperate. Then again, you have to admit to yourself, you are desperate. Desperate to hear his voice again, desperate to feel his hands on you again. Texting him is less awkward than you had hoped, his demeanor putting you at ease almost immediately. You catch yourself smiling at the screen, already down bad for this man.

You’re in bed, struggling to calm down enough to sleep when your phone’s screen lights up the darkness of your bedroom from where it’s lying on your nightstand.

He’s asking you to meet him in a dive bar, right now, if you want to. You’re reluctant at first, once again worried to appear too eager, but the almost magnetic pull that you feel towards him eventually leads you out of your apartment and to the address he sent you.

He’s waiting for you in the back, just like he told you. Wearing dark jeans and a white t-shirt, the fabric stretching around his broad chest in a way that makes it hard not to stare, dressed much more casually than you’ve come to know from him. It doesn’t take away from his persona one bit, he’s still exuding that energy that seems to let him command every room he’s in, that makes it so hard for you to resist him.

He buys you a drink and pulls you into a corner booth with him. Talking to him is easy, he’s an attentive listener and his quick remarks make you laugh, leaning into him when you do. You learn that he’s not from around here, that he flew in to visit friends but that he’s thinking about moving here permanently. It almost scares you, how giddy that prospect makes you, the idea of having the chance to keep seeing him. His arm finds its way around your shoulders eventually, his fingers drawing shapes over your skin. The innocent contact makes you feel like a teenager, suddenly sixteen again.

He walks you home later, his arm still wrapped around you, pulling you into his side. It feels good, a sense of safety and intimacy that you feel yourself getting lost in. You had thought that he was hot, that he would be a fun hookup, but as the minutes tick on, you realize how much you already like him. How much you want this feeling to last.

It feels so natural, turning around to face him when you reach your building, both of you leaning in simultaneously until your lips meet, like it’s the only possible way for this evening to end. You think that it is.

Kissing him feels even better than you had envisioned in your mind, and you melt against him, one hand braced against his chest while the other comes up to pull at the hair in the nape of his neck, needing him closer, not ready to let him go. He’s cupping your face in both hands, his thumbs caressing your cheeks, and you feel him smile against your lips. You lick into his mouth, revel in the groan that rumbles deep in his chest.

You don’t let go of him, holding onto his hand when you pull him up the stairs, soak in the feeling of him pressed against your body when you unlock your apartment door, let him connect his lips with yours again when he walks you backwards down your hallway.

Everything about him feels so right, so safe and yet like the most exciting experience you’ve ever had. You breathe him in, ecstatic with the sensation of his broad form against you, with the way you feel his muscles move under your fingers where you’re grabbing at his shoulders.

He lets you lead him into your bedroom, his hands still all over you. You push him down to sit on the edge of your bed and he follows your lead, sinking down on the mattress with an easy grin on his face, regarding you with hooded eyes. He wraps his hands around your waist as you’re standing in front of him and he pulls you closer. His fingers find their way below the hem of your skirt, dancing over the supple skin of your thighs, slowly inching up higher.

You whine, already squirming under his touch, and his grin widens.

“So soft,” he coos up at you, tightening his grip on your thighs and moving you to straddle him, your legs already spread wide to accommodate the thickness of his thighs beneath you. One hand comes up to cradle your face again, his thumb nudging at your lips and you flick your tongue against the digit, making him chuckle.

“And so pretty,” he continues, leaning in to connect your lips once more. You want to melt into him, let him consume every fiber of your being.

Your hands tug at his t-shirt, pulling it up, desperate to satisfy the need to be closer to him, to feel his bare skin against yours. He helps you, lifting the fabric over his head. You’ve seen most of his chest before, but not like this, not revealed just for you, in the dim light of your bedroom, yours to look at, yours to touch. He somehow seems even broader without clothes on and you’re almost transfixed by the thick cords of muscle of his arms and shoulders that are on display for you now.

He chuckles again, placing another kiss at the corner of your lips.

“You alright, princess?”

“Yeah,” you murmur, feeling breathless, overwhelmed with how much you want him.

His hands splay over your thighs, fingertips dipping beneath your skirt again, slowly, teasingly skating higher.

“Take this off for me.” It’s phrased like an order, but it’s still so soft, not leaving a doubt in your mind that you could say no if you wanted to. But you don’t. You want him to see you, want to feel his eyes on you, want to have this hungry look that’s trained on your face burning all over your body.

He groans when you obey, a deep, rumbling sound that goes straight to your core and you know that he feels your thighs clenching on top of his. His mouth is on your bare skin within seconds, kissing and sucking, his tongue moving against you like he’s going to devour you.

You arch against him with a whine when he circles your nipple, first with his fingers and then with his tongue before sucking the sensitive bud between his lips. It’s all encompassing, the wetness of his mouth, the strong grip of his hands, the heat of his chest seeping into your skin where you’re pressing yourself against him.

“Please, Oberyn,” you whimper, not even sure what you’re asking for, just knowing that you need more. His responding moan sends vibrations from his mouth straight through you, before his fingers dig into your waist and he flips you over, until your back is resting on your sheets and he’s hovering over you, your thighs still spread wide around him.

The image alone is enough to send another wave of arousal through you, the way he looks just as wrecked as you feel. His large hands spread your thighs wider as he leans back, his eyes trained on your panties, where you know the fabric must be soaked already.

“So pretty,” he mumbles again, more to himself than to you. His eyes fly back up to meet yours, almost black, his pupils blown wide. “Can I take these off?” He dips a finger under the lace covering your hip, pulling it away and letting it snap against your skin.

“Please.” You don’t care how desperate you sound, not when he looks up at you with the most sinful smirk on his face. His hands grasp the fabric and you lift your hips to help him pull it down, but his smirk widens as he tears the lace in half, ripping the shreds off of your body.

“Fuck,” you whine, not a single thought wasted on the fact that those were some of your favorite panties, every part of you focused on how badly you want his hands all over you.

His eyes stay focused on your expression, eagerly drinking in your every reaction as his fingers dip between your legs, so close to where you so desperately need him. He groans when he feels the wetness seeping from your folds, swirling his digits through it before reaching your clit. He’s ghosting over the sensitive nub with barely any pressure, but it’s enough to elicit a moan from you, your hips canting up to follow his touch. You’re distantly aware of the pleas that are falling from your lips, giving way to a loud whine when he finally sinks two thick fingers into your heat.

He thrusts into you, curling them just right, and his name tumbles out of your mouth again, laced with pure need. You watch in fascination when he sucks his slick-coated fingers into his mouth, eyes still trained on your face, a rumble forming in his chest at the taste.

“Tastes so sweet, princess.”

Your thighs fall open wider, shamelessly offering yourself to him, to his eyes, his hands. You reach out, grabbing at his waist, the need to feel all of him nearly overwhelming. His fingers intertwine with yours, pulling your hands away from his body. He lifts them up to his mouth and presses soft kisses against your knuckles, a whisper of patience on his lips before he lets go of you and rises up to rid himself of his jeans.

Your eyes widen at the sight of him, a needy sigh escaping you when you think about feeling him inside you, about the way he’s gonna stretch your walls. You sit up, eagerly reaching for him again. Your fingers wrap around his cock, mesmerized by his girth, and he hisses when you move your hand over his length.

You hear the crinkle of plastic and then his hand is on yours, gently tugging it away, much too soon for your liking. You watch as he puts the condom on with practiced ease, the sight of his own hands on his cock enough to send another wave of arousal through you.

He’s back on you before you know it, sliding in between your spread legs, his large hands splayed over your upper thighs, pushing them further apart. His eyes are trained on your weeping pussy, a hungry darkness in them. You whine when he rubs his cock through your wetness before tapping against your clit.

“You want this?” he asks, his voice husky.

“Please, Oberyn.” Your desperate plea breaks off into a filthy moan when he sheathes himself inside of you, breaching your tight walls with the most delicious sting, and you feel your eyes rolling back into your head.

Pleasure grows inside of you as he starts to move, slamming into your pussy in a forceful rhythm. You feel so full of him, the sensation almost overwhelming as he hits the perfect spot over and over. The wave inside of you crests so suddenly that you barely realize what’s happening, the need that you’ve felt brewing all evening finally reaching its peak.

You gasp his name, nails pressing into his shoulders as he fucks you through it, until you’re a trembling mess beneath him. He slows, moving in and out of you with shallow thrusts, his lips on yours once more.

You stay like that for a moment, arms wrapped around him, holding him close while you bask in the bliss that you’ve just experienced. But his continuous movements have the hunger for more growing inside of you once more. You meet his thrusts with your hips, needy to feel him deeper again. He props himself up, and it’s sinful how good he looks, his face glowing, a sheen of sweat on his skin.

You suck one of your fingers into your mouth, eyes wide and holding his gaze, feigning innocence. He watches you, a curious glint in his eyes, as you trail your hands from his shoulders down his back until you reach his ass and pull him further into you, fingernails digging into his flesh.

You let your saliva-covered finger reach further, gently massaging the puckered ring of muscle and he gasps, thrusting into you with so much force that it jostles your whole body and you cry out, the sensation of him so deep inside you a heady mix of pleasure and pain.

“Fuck,” he grits between his teeth as you keep up your ministrations, delighted to have this effect on him. “Fuck, princess, just like that…”

You bite your lip, grinning up at him. “Do the girls back home touch you like I do?”

He breathes out a laugh and shakes his head, his movements never faltering as he gathers your wrists in his hands and pins them down on the mattress beside your head.

“No. And you’re gonna make me come if you keep this up, but I’m not finished with you yet,” he purrs, leaning down and sucking bruising kisses into the soft skin of your throat, the scratch of his beard only adding to the sensation. You free one of your hands from his grip to tug at his hair, your fingers burrowing in the soft strands at his neck and scratching against his scalp.

“You can give me one more, can’t you?” His voice in your ear makes you shiver and you nod, a breathless please on your lips.

“Good girl.” His kiss is soft against your cheek before he pulls away, his thrusts speeding up, as he grabs your hips, holding them up, giving you no choice but to take him. “Touch yourself,” he demands, the tendons in his neck straining with exertion.

Your fingers are on your clit within moments, rubbing against it, slick with your arousal. The coil inside you tightens again, desperate for release once more.

“Give it to me princess, come on.” His voice sounds wrecked, and it’s the thing that makes you leap over the edge a second time, stars exploding behind your eyelids as you pulse around him, pure pleasure soaring through you.

He comes to a stuttering halt, hips pressed flush against yours, and his groans are almost enough to make you want to come again. He falls forward, forehead pressed against yours, and you share a lazy smile.

You think that he really is the most beautiful person that you’ve ever met.

You fell asleep curled against him, your head resting on his chest and soaking up his warmth, with his arm around your shoulder, but when you blink awake to soft morning light falling through your curtains, you are alone. You roll onto your back, staring up at the ceiling. You’ve seen him at the club, he’s probably in a different bed almost every night, you shouldn’t be surprised that he snuck out of yours in the morning. And you sure as hell shouldn’t be disappointed.

You get up with a sigh, pulling a t-shirt over your head and padding down the hall to the kitchen. You come to an abrupt halt in the doorway, met with a sight that you hadn’t expected. He’s standing in front of your open fridge, the expanse of his back bare and turned towards you. There’s a swoop of excitement in your stomach.

You exhale loudly and he turns towards you, an easy smile on his lips. “Good morning.” His voice sounds raspier, still thick with sleep.

“Hey,” you say, returning his smile. He closes the distance between you and cups your face, the sensation of his thumb against your cheek already a familiar one. His lips find yours and you get lost in the feeling of it, in the fantasy of this being your every morning, in pretending that he’s yours.

When he pulls away, the words are out of your mouth before your mind is able to catch up.

“I think I really like you.”

You want to bite your tongue immediately, to take them back. Too early, the voice in your head screams. Your eyes widen as you search for something else to say, but he doesn’t waver, still regarding you with that relaxed smile on his handsome face.

“Is– is it okay that I said that?”

He hums, his large hand still on your cheek.

“I think I really like you too.”

as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider putting a smile on my face by reblogging, commenting or sending in an ask <3 thank you for reading!

#oberyn martell #oberyn martell x reader #pedro pascal #game of thrones #oberyn martell fanfiction #game of thrones fanfiction #oberyn martell smut #oberyn martell x you #oberyn martell x female reader #oberyn martell x f!reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedrostories #janas fics #fic: delicate

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yourfavebooklrsfavebooklr · 1 year ago

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New Releases of May 2024!

I pre-ordered The Takedown because The Stand-In was great, hoping it’s as good as its predecessor!

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the-bi-library · 9 months ago

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As bisexual visibility month approaches us, I wanted to highlight a few bi books we don't see people talking about much and give people some recs for bi books to read!

Books listed:

Fall Into You by Georgina Kiersten

Splinter by Jasper Hyde

Spring on the Peninsula by Ery Shin

When Tara Met Farah by Tara Pammi

Forever Is Now by Mariama J. Lockington

More to Love by Georgina Kiersten

When the Stars Alight by Camilla Andrew

Lulu Sinagtala and the City of Noble Warriors by Gail D. Villanueva

No Two Ways by Chi Yu

Exposing Lesser Demons by K.N. Robertson

Wolfpack by Rem Wigmore

A Dance of Water and Air by Antonia Aquilante

Hugged by Verity Ritchie

Where Willows Weep by Luna Fiore

Fake it by Lily Seabrooke

Small Gods of Calamity by Sam Kyung Yoo

Beyond Repair by Catherine Stein

Baptism of Fire by Jessie Thomas

Poisoned Primrose by Dahlia Donovan

Birthright by M.A. Vice

A Masc for Purim by Roz Alexander

Your Driver is Waiting by Priya Guns

Errant by L.K. Fleet

Loser of the Year by Carrie Byrd

Fortune Favors the Dead by Stephen Spotswood

Monstersona by Chloe Spencer

Scoring a Spouse by Liz Lincoln

Tengoku by Rae D. Magdon

Leaving's Not the Only Way to Go by Kay Acker

Speech and Debacles by Heather DiAngelis

Things I'll Never Say by Cassandra Newbould

Chameleon Moon by RoAnna Sylver

Allure by CEON

To Beg or Not to Beg by Cat Giraldo

Shadows Dark and Deadly by Andrea Marie Johnson

Ride with Me by Jenna Jarvis

Dearly Departed by Heather Novak

Swift and Sudden Exit by Nico Vincenty

Wishing on Winter by Brenna Bailey

Crystrals and Contracts by A. A. Fairview

Tomb of Heart and Shadow by Cara N. Delaney

False Hearts and Broken Frets by Elle Bennett

The Blood Born Dragon by J. C. Rycroft

An Act of Devotion by A. M. Leibowitz

Biting down by Torrance Sené

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hopecomesbacktolife · 1 year ago

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crying weeping. this book was phenomenal. 100/10 magnificent and soooooo intense and vast and searingly intimate and heartbreaking and swoops of joy and I just. Katherine x Zera 5ever I love them so much

(possible spoilers in the tags even though I redacted the most spoilery bits)

once I’m a bit more coherent I plan to write an actual legible review (a glowing one, of course!) but I had to scream about all my feelings for this book here 😭❤️

#personal #a swift and sudden exit #definitely one of the best books I’ve read this year and probably even broader than that #it is so utterly unique and unlike anything else I’ve ever read and is so incredible and I just #it was so gotdamn INTENSE at times and the whole last bit was a TIME but oh my god #they got their soft epilogue 😭😭 that they deserved 😭😭 they’re good people and they’ve suffered enough 😭😭#my heart went on such a wild ride with this one #to have a love that literally spans the decades.. ‘with you I remember everything’… ‘I’ve waited a hundred years for you to say that’…#I can’t 😭❤️❣️#they loved each other and gave each other a renewed desire not just to exist but to LIVE that they literally saved the world 😭😭#nico this was brilliant and spectacular and beautiful and magnificent and I’m so glad you wrote this book #it’s lovely and I am a changed woman after reading it. my heart. I’m so emotional and in awe of the journey they went on #my god. 10/10 #this book was just. I don’t even know it was wonderful #and like you know me poster child of emetophobia!! if I can get past the mentions in this book and still be raving about the book. that spe #ks to how incredibly GOOD this book is. and it is. it’s so good. so good ♡#sci fi sapphic bis is such a fantastic genre and I’m so glad this book exists in it #also I’m not over posh (derogatory) to posh (in love) and formal (lying) to formal (trembling with the intensity of their love) ough #Katherine x Zera 5ever x2059953920019493929201 #and the SILVER IN [redacted] IN THE FINAL CHAPTER IM WEEPING I LOVE THAT SO MUCH #as we all know I cannot relate to immortality idolization whatsoever and when [redacted] and she was JOYOUS about it #which was made all the more beautiful and poignant by her journey to GET THERE #I JUST. OUGH😭🥹#so beautiful #and to have all of this grandiosity high stakes end of the world post apocalyptic life and death. and to have it end on a picnic in [redact #d] with wine and a sunset. I just. I just. it’s so perfect and so right and I just.#i love this book so much #also jenifer prince your beautiful beautiful art is so perfect I adore the illustrations the cover and the Polaroids & bookmark 10/10 so lo #ely #and all plot important beats too 😭❤️

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deunmiu-dessie · 1 year ago

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ⅰ ▬ ⁽ 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒𝓌𝑜𝓁𝒻 ⁾

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ♡︎ : ₃˖₅ₖ ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡ 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ♡︎ : mdni----- unedited, NSFW, dubcon, rape/noncon elements explicit content, teratophilia, monster/human, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie, very obvious size difference, dacryphilia, ( slight?? ) somnophilia, cunnilingus, knotting. ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ♡︎ : you're invited to the bar by your bestfriend, barb. things go awry. ꒰m!werewolf ₊⊹ afab!reader꒱

𝒜s you drift in and out of a light slumber, the sudden sound of your phone jolts you awake. The room is enveloped in darkness, and a chill lingers in the air, reminding you that you forgot to close the window. You shift in bed, directing your gaze towards the nightstand, and reach out to grab your phone, squinting against its blinding brightness. Running a hand through your tousled hair, you sit up and flick on the nearby lamp, illuminating the room.

As you settle in, your eyes slowly adapt to the light, allowing you to observe your surroundings. Glancing at your phone once more, you notice the time - it's already 9:27 PM. Your friend tried calling you five times, with the first call going unanswered for ten minutes.

As you slide out of bed, you stretch your arms and legs, grimacing at the sounds of your joints cracking. You brush your hands through your hair and make your way to the bathroom, turning on the light, and leaning against the sink, letting out a sigh at the sight of the bags under your eyes. Your lithe fingers gently pull at the skin under your eyes, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed. Sighing, your arms drop to your side before lifting them to twist the faucet handle.

You bend down and form a makeshift bowl with your hands, sleepily awaiting the rush of water. The liquid cascades into your palms, filling them with a refreshing embrace. With a swift motion, you splash the cold water onto your face, instantly jolting your senses awake.

Huffing out a sigh, you shut off the tap, taking a brief pause to relish in the quietness of your home, before reaching for a soft hand towel to gently pat your face dry. Tossing the damp towel into the laundry basket, you pivot on your heels and exit the bathroom, flicking off the light and shutting the door behind you.

Glancing around the room, you notice the scattered clothing on the floor and your disorganized dresser, and as much as you wanted to clean it, you simply lacked the motivation. Your gaze swiftly shifts away from the mess and you clear your throat.

"Hey, Alexa, Call Barb back."

As her robotic voice obediently chimes, you collapse onto your messy bed, emitting a groan in response to the piercing sound resonating in your ears. A brief moment of silence passes before you're taken aback, startled by Barb's exuberant cheer.

" Thank god! I thought you were dead! What are you doing right now?" The ambiance of music and conversation engulfs her, prompting yet another sigh from you- the nth one since you've woken up. You're now well aware of the reason for her call, but you're not in the mood to socialize or have a drink.

After all, this was your only free weekend for the next month or so; and besides, you had already planned a date with a tub of ice cream and a marathon of horror movies.

"I just woke up from a nap, where are you? It's loud."

The woman softly utters a flustered 'stop', likely to a guy she's flirting with. Barb clears her throat to hide a giggle. "I'm at a bar with Crystal and Kevin. Please come down!" The idea of socializing at that moment sent shivers down your spine. No matter how much you adored Barb, her offer didn't tempt you in the slightest.

Actually, the idea of socializing at that moment sent mind-numbing shivers down your spine, and just as you were about to decline, her following words elicit a gentle chuckle from you.

"And! Before you say no, I promise I won't ask you to come to any events for the next three months." The anxiety in her voice is palpable, and it begins to chip away at your resolve, her small whine finally breaks you and with a sigh, you find yourself smiling at her proposal. "Fine, send me the address and I'll be there as soon as I can. "

The place is bustling with noise and the unmistakable smell of sweat as you navigate your way to the bar. From the entrance, you catch sight of Barb's eye-catching cotton candy pink hair. She's engaged in light-hearted banter with a burly man, and although you hesitate to interrupt, you do so anyway.

Wrapping your arms around her waist, you bask in the comforting aroma that surrounds her. Barb was an absolute doll, and the instant connection you both had when introduced by a mutual friend three years ago is still strong. Barb was practically the sole reason you weren't a recluse.

A small chuckle escaped her lips as she affectionately placed her hand on your cheek. "That you babe?" She turns around as she hears your approving hum, and her gaze falls upon your attire. It wasn't flashy, considering this is just a bar. Your legs are clad in mom jeans, complemented by a band tee and a pair of chunky combat boots. In contrast to Barb's tight red dress, you may seem a bit underdressed, but your intention wasn't to find a hookup tonight; you're here to catch up with Barb.

She pressed her lips together, but eventually gave in and rolled her eyes before pulling you into a warm hug, without getting up from her seat.

" Henry, this is my best friend. " she beamed at you and playfully raised her eyebrows. "Bestie, this is Henry."

You cast your eyes towards him, uninterested."Hey, how are you?"

Without waiting for his response, you plant a kiss on Barb's forehead and gesture towards the other end of the bar. "I'll grab a drink and then search for Kevin and Crystal."

Barb's lips formed a pout as she nodded, her expression turning stern. "Don't leave without telling me okay?" You acknowledged her request with a nod, waving her off and making your way to the stool at the end of the counter, collapsing onto the chair, and releasing a weary sigh.

The bartender looked at you expectantly, prompting you to bite the inside of your cheek before simply requesting water - you had no intention of drinking tonight. Your eyes flit over the bar, taking small sips from your water bottle, looking for any eye candy. Eventually, your gaze landed on a man wearing a red, dirtied beanie, his eyes lowered. He's big and burly, with dark hair covering his forearms and a thick beard.

Your heart stutters in your chest, prompting you to clench your thighs together. His sun-kissed complexion exuded an irresistible aura of feral masculine energy, that made your nipples perk up and harden. You discreetly averted your eyes, taking a gulp of water to quell the sudden and embarrassing rush of desire.

Stealing another glance, your heart skips a beat when his hazel eyes meet yours. Flustered, you quickly look away, feeling the warmth spread across your cheeks. You had just got caught ogling a sexy hunky man, and you'd probably been drooling too.

You set your water bottle on the counter and pat your cheeks with your cold hands. Gradually mustering the courage, you decide to approach the man- the intimidating but hot man who sat in a booth alone. As you prepare to stand up, you are startled to find him just a few steps away from you, gaze searing and unwavering.

Towering at 6'4, he appeared even more imposing in person, his muscles clearly defined beneath his jacket. Despite your jitters, you offer a smile and a nod in his direction. His eyes briefly leave yours, locking with the bartender's. A surge of desire courses through you, his voice is deep and velvet-smooth, and it has your stomach in knots.

"Another bourbon."

His eyes fixated on you, captivating your very being and luring you into a trance. A timid squeak escaped your lips as you retreated into your shell - he exuded an aura of sheer intimidation. The slight twitch at the corner of his mouth accompanied a subtle nod, but little else. You couldn't help but feel foolish for even attempting to engage with him because even though he didn't wear an expensive suit or look well off, he was way out of your league. At least, that's how it felt.

As he grabs the glass of bourbon, he disappears into the shadows of his lonely little booth. You feel the urge to approach him but two things hold you back– one- you don't know what you would say and two– you really have to pee.

Downing the last drops of water, you bring the bottle with you to throw in the garbage can. Suddenly, you come to a halt, noticing the lengthy line forming at the restroom — that was like a thirty-minute wait, you couldn't possibly hold your pee for that long.

The longer you pondered your next move, the more your bladder seemed to betray you. Your only choice was to venture outside and take care of business in the back. You clenched your jaw, cursed under your breath, and hurried to the back door. As you made your way, you locked eyes with Barb at the bar and gestured towards your urgent need. She responded with a nod and a thumbs-up before returning to her conversation. With a sigh of relief, you slipped out into the cool night air, feeling its gentle touch on your skin.

The town may have been small, but it possessed an allure that captivated its inhabitants. It wasn't the kind of place where everyone knew each other, yet it still retained an intimate charm. Nestled at the edge of town, this bar stood amidst the endless forest that enveloped the surroundings. It was easy to get lost in there.

Into the heart of the forest, you went, careful to avoid prying eyes as you attended to your needs, wary of the consequences if caught by the property owner or law enforcement. As you made your way through the trees, the dim glow of the bar faded and you continued to walk until you had to squint to see the bar lights.

The sound of your belt coming undone echoed through the stillness of the area and you feel your skin crawl with anxiousness. You can hear the steady stream of your pee hitting the leafy-covered ground and you cringe at the loudness of the sound. After you make sure you're at least a bit dry down there, you stand and pull your pants up. As you adjust yourself, a rustle in front of you makes your heart race.

Your hands freeze at your belt buckle, a deep, low, guttural growl meets your ears and suddenly you can see golden irises looking towards you. It's a wolf. Fear grips you as you step back, trembling with terror. As your eyebrows knit together, your gaze intensifies upon the creature before you. There is no denying its identity as a wolf, yet its sheer size is awe-inspiring, towering over you. Its maw is much too big, its teeth much too large and its physique exudes strength.

What the hell were you looking at?

It takes a step forward, snarling at you. Your body quivers with nervous energy, unable to find calm, unable to focus. Without hesitation, you pivot on your foot and sprint away, your eyes scanning the surroundings with newfound intensity - every obstacle, every tree, every shadow. Uncertain if the predator is gaining on you, uncertain if more have joined in on the chase - you refuse to look back. The snarls and the sound of rapid footsteps fade momentarily. Breathing becomes difficult, and your face is flushed and covered in sweat.

Seeking refuge behind a tree, you struggle to regain composure, your heart racing wildly, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Crack

Sprinting away, driven by an insatiable desire for safety, you disregard the possibility that it might not be the wolf. You suddenly experience an excruciating pain that travels up your ankle, causing an ear-piercing shriek to erupt from your throat and obscure your vision with tears.

Your skull collides with the rugged terrain, engulfing your vision in darkness for a fleeting moment. As your mind gradually regains clarity, you steal a glance at your ankle, recoiling at the sight of the weathered bear trap sinking its fangs into your flesh. Thankfully, the wound appears shallow, and you offer a silent gratitude to God.

Crunch

You lack the strength to budge, even though it's not causing any real harm; the agony is unbearable. The wolf draws nearer, yet its snarls transform into a plaintive whine. Your eyes remain tightly shut, refusing to open, as your body becomes paralyzed by the sensation of its scorching breath against your face.

It continues its advance, until it reaches your leg, eliciting a whimper from you as its jaws envelop it. Although no additional pain ensues, the sound of fabric rending fills your ears. With trepidation, you finally summon the courage to open your eyes, only to find half of your pant leg ripped away.

Crack, Crack

Bones are breaking, you can hear every crack and also see them breaking under the wolf's fur. As the wolf's fur ripples, you witness the gruesome spectacle of bones splintering beneath its skin. A sickening sensation rises in your throat, causing you to retch violently onto the verdant grass below. The cracking stops but you make no move to look again.

The searing agony dissipates, replaced by the faint rustling of metal being pried apart and discarded with a metallic clink. A rough, yet tender and moist touch glides over your wound, gradually erasing the numbness that enveloped you. The scorching pain that once tormented you is now but a distant memory.

Facing the creature, you realize it has grown even larger, standing at an impressive 9 feet tall. Its massive frame is covered in thick, dark fur, making it almost impossible to discern its true shape. The only colors visible are the glowing gold of its eyes and the pink knot nestled against your thigh. You swallow heavily and avert your eyes quickly, eyes flitting to the wolf's face.

Your heart races as you feel its large hand holding your leg, the gentle touch of its claws sending shivers down your spine. The sensation of its tongue brushing against your skin sends waves of pleasure through your body, despite the fear that grips you. His nose twitches, his eyes flicking towards you, the tension in his muscles palpable.

Your body quivers like a leaf, appearing fragile and small beneath the werewolf, so easily breakable. You can feel his cock stiffening even more, almost impossibly so. Reluctantly, you retract your leg from his grasp, edging back slowly. He watches you with intelligent eyes, tracking your every motion. Struggling to rise, you opt to flip onto your hands and knees, clutching a nearby tree for support— still uncertain of your 'healed' ankle.

There's a pressure on your waist, claws teasing your delicate hips, barely breaking the skin, and you cry out as your pants are torn from your legs, the cool air brushing against your exposed skin. He pauses for a moment, snout coming close to your sex before sniffing deeply. As tears cascade down your cheeks, you instinctively lash out, kicking your leg in a desperate attempt to distance yourself.

Your combat boot forcefully collides with its face, a feeble protest that is met with a mocking snort. With a single swipe of its claw, your delicate undergarments are effortlessly torn apart, leaving your hole quivering, and juices leaking without permission. Drawing nearer, its snout radiates warmth, causing you to recoil, your eyes squeezed shut. Yet, they swiftly snap open as its wide, elongated, and moist tongue begins to sensually lap at you, the roughness of its muscular appendage gently grazing your entrance and occasionally slipping inside.

Against your will, you're moaning loudly. Your eyes roll back and your lower lip is trapped between your teeth. The hand that was holding onto the tree is now on its snout, attempting to push it away. Your face is pressed into the ground, your back arched in a deliciously painful curve, and your ass is raised high in the air.

It laps at you eagerly like a thirsty dog, and you're lost in a sea of pleasure, moaning and pleading for more, despite yourself. You love every second of this, and it makes you feel disgusted with how enamored you are at what this monster's tongue is doing to you.

You're enveloped in a sea of pure white, as its tongue explores the depths of your being, gently caressing your sensitive spots and teasing your g-spot. It's tongue fucking you so well, like it possesses an intimate map of your body. Its tail sways rhythmically as your trembling thighs embrace its snout, cum dripping onto its eager tongue. Your body spasms with pleasure, and it revels in its satisfaction.

Your pussy tightens slightly, releasing your desire onto your inner thighs, playfully winking at the creature, enticing it to take you. Its hands encircle your waist, contrasting your size against it. The tip of its red cock is lined with your entrance and it finds it a bit difficult to slip the head in at first, you're a tight squeeze.

" No. No, it won't fit!" It's thick and long, and so much bigger than a normal cock, and that thought terrifies you. You shriek as it inches into you slowly, pussy stretching to attempt to accommodate its thickness. You shake your head, crawling forward and attempting to escape the overwhelming intrusion. However, its deep snarl makes you whimper and freeze.

You weakly resist one last time, wriggling your hips to stop it from completely ruining you for any other man, but as it sinks into your quivering, messy cunt, you stop struggling.

Despite the tension in its muscles, it takes its time. The beast is exceptionally thick, so its cock is heavy inside you. The drag of its bulbous tip on your g-spot has you whimpering and drooling over yourself. Abruptly its massive frame envelops you, hands firmly gripping your hips.

How ironic, a canine-like creature ravishing you in the primal position of doggy style.

With a powerful thrust, it plunges its rigid cock deep inside you, its pelvis pressing against your ass. The weighty orbs of its balls collide against your clit, brimming with cum, and despite knowing you shouldn't, you crave every drop of its hot seed.

Your sight becomes hazy, and the world around you blurs as pleasure consumes you. It's an overwhelming sensation that brings tears to your eyes. Each touch from it sends electric shocks through your body, it's touching every nerve inside of you effortlessly. Despite feeling completely satisfied, a deep craving for more remains. The desire to feel it cum inside of you.

With each thrust, a creamy white residue encircles its cock and you're not sure how you've cum so many times in such a short period, but your eager, filthy little hole is starting to feel tender and sensitive. You're whining and whimpering, a blubbering mess below it. You need more.

It starts to speed up, hips stuttering, and a whine building in its throat. With one final forceful thrust, it buries itself deep inside you. Its primal roar echoes in your ears, yet you lack the strength to shield them.

The wet, erotic sound as it pumps you full of cum makes you orgasm once more. Your poor slutty hole clenching around it. You've lost track of time since you left the bar, and you don't know how long the two of been fucking. Exhaustion washes over you, and all you desire is to return home.

However, it appears that th beast has different intentions. Suddenly, it lifts you up, positioning itself on its hindlegs, and you find yourself sitting upright on its throbbing cock. One of its hands ventures beneath your band tee, discovering your erect nipples, while the other firmly grips your hip, effortlessly thrusting you onto its shaft as if you were its own personal fleshlight. Its muzzle nuzzles against your neck, sending shivers down your spine as you surrender to the overwhelming pleasure, even though exhaustion consumes you.

–

When you came to, you were relieved to find yourself at your house, believing that maybe you had dreamt it, it couldn't have been real. But the evidence of your wild night with that beast is undeniable - the sticky puddle of cum on your sheets and the missed calls and texts from Barb serve as a tantalizing reminder. You can't remember how long he used your body for his pleasure but you do remember leaving a pool of cum where the two stayed that night. Though, one text stands out to you.

"Babe, a man came up to me earlier and said that he enjoyed you last night. WTF?! Bitch, spill."

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miss-celestial-being · 1 year ago

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jake peralta going on a blind date that boyle set up but she’s actually completely his type

literally the love of my life tysm for the request

"No. No. No. No. No. No. No. And did I mention, no!" Jake says exasperatedly. "You see, I knew you would say that which is why I already set up the date with her." Charles rebuttals. He tells him your name as he taps rhythmically on Jake's desk. "She's thirty-two, she loves herself some Tay-Tay, and her favorite soup is crab bisque. I met her in my hot goat yoga class." "Ew, what." "Yeah, I'm hearing how that sounds now. But still, I think you'd like her. Who knows, by the end of the night you may just be smushing booties." Jake groans, "God, Boyle, don't say smushing booties." "Right, yeah, yep," He picks up the file from Jake's desk, turning to the man as he walks away, "Shaw's Bar, 8 o'clock."

Charles turns back around and bumps into Terry as he walks to his desk. He groans as he crushes his yogurt cup in his hand, "Damnnit, Boyle." "Sorry," He says as he backs toward the exit of the bullpen. He rapidly clicks the close button once inside the elevator, evading Terry's angry gaze. "Jake sighs as he looks back at his computer.

"So, hot date tonight, huh?" Amy asks as she leans around their computers to smirk smugly at him. "Uhm, no. I'm not going," He says, his eyes not leaving the screen as he types mindlessly. "What? Why not? Charles says she's perfect for you." "Exactly: Charles thinks she's perfect for me. Knowing him she's either some hot goat yoga-loving freak, or-" "Or actually perfect for you. I think you should give it a shot. I mean, you're constantly complaining about how horribly dull your love life is," Jake frowns, "Hey, now, I wouldn't say horrible dull-" "Yes you would, and you have. Now no more fighting, you have a date to get ready for." Jake looks at the time at the bottom right corner of his monitor and sighs, "All right, fine. But when this all goes to total shit, I'm blaming you." Amy rolls her eyes with a grin and opens the next file from her stack as Jake makes his way to the elevator.

The bell rings as Jake opens the door to Shaw's Bar, his free hand shoved in his jacket pocket. The warm, boozy bar air fills his nostrils as he steps toward the bar, the glass door closing slowly behind him. He looks around the bar, hoping to instantly recognize the mystery woman, to no avail.

The bell rings again as Jake asks Hank for an orange soda on the rocks. The bartender sighs exhaustedly as he pulls the Crush can out of the mini fridge from behind the bar. "Jake?" A voice asks as someone taps him on the shoulder. He turns around, and his mouth opens and closes like a fish as his brain short-circuits. "Or not?" You laugh awkwardly, "I'm really sorry about this, I was told someone would be here, but it looks like he stood me up." You sit one chair over at the bartop, sighing as you rest your chin on your fist.

"Hi," Jake says as he hold out his hand, "I'm Jake." "Oh," You breathe, "Sorry. You didn't say anything and I just thought- Y'know what, never mind, I'm probably not what you were expecting." Jake smiles, "Well, you're right there. Charles told me he met you in a 'hot goat yoga class'." You cringe slightly, "I honestly didn't even know his name, I walked into the wrong building and he started talking to me about his friend Jake." "Sounds about right." You both laugh and he moves to the chair between you.

"So, my weird friend tells me you like Taylor Swift," Jake starts and the conversation lasts hours, the orange soda on the countertop left completely ignored. "All right, time to wrap it up. The bar's closing." Hank says as he wipes the counter. "Oh my god, how long have we been here?" Jake asks him, surprised. The bartender ignores him as he moves on to another part of the bar. You look around to find the bar completely empty.

You laugh quietly, "This was fun," You say softly as you exit the bar, "We should do this again-" You're cut off by a sudden surprising kiss, Jake's hands holding your cheeks gently to keep you close. Your eyes flutter closed and take the collar of his shirt in your fists. He pulls away, mumbling out a quick 'noice' before getting pulled back into a kiss that leaves him gasping for breath.

ik this ended abruptly but its a school night and i have to go to bed so this is as good as we're getting today

i really hope you liked this bc jake has been on my mind for ages and i couldnt find many fics here sadly

dont hesitate to request more

#sinc this is just a blurb im gonna leave it without any fancy stuff but when i write a full fic ill make it all pretty i promise #jake deserves it 😌#boredbeesask #jake peralta #jake peralta x reader #b99 #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn 99 #b99 x reader #brooklyn nine nine x reader #brooklyn 99 x reader #charles boyle #terry jeffords #amy santiago

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aestherin · 10 months ago

Text

KEEP MY HEART

goal 30: something wrong

NOTES: this took longer than i thought 💀 anw it was more tamed than i imagined omg yay!! ^^

Scaramouche thought the car ride home was plenty suffocating, but nothing could compare to how heavy the air was once he got home with his mother.

An extensive home that is reasonably far from other neighboring houses, with a spacious lot surrounding the house itself. It could've been such a perfect home — if not for the two broken people living in it.

As his mother remained silent while the two of them exited the car, Scaramouche thought he had at least the whole night to prepare for his mother's outburst. Alas, they haven't even made it to the front door yet, and he had already started hearing something.

"Kunikuzushi."

He merely turned to her, not even saying a word.

"Just what happened?" Scaramouche could not get something from his mother's voice at all. She wasn't yelling — it would be out of character for her to do so anyway. But she obviously wasn't happy either. But at least it wasn't that cold, too?

At a loss for words, the young man forced himself to focus his gaze on one random thing, perhaps the grass peacefully lying on their front yard.

'I'll just have to let her say anything and everything she wants to say, and I'll say nothing. And then tomorrow, we'll just continue like nothing happened,' he thought.

And so he did, letting his mother's words pass through one ear to the other. 'How can you let yourself play like that', 'how can you allow people to see you like that', 'just what would they say about you now', 'this isn't what we trained for'... Nothing he wasn't used to. It was all alright. He can go through another sermon session just fine.

Until he was knocked out of his stupor by a certain statement from his mother.

"Perhaps I should've gotten between you and that companion of yours I saw in the freedom wall. I think she is distracting you, maybe you should stay away from her."

A sudden surge of rage came over him, prompting him to finally meet eyes with his own mother. Ei was slightly taken aback, not used to receiving such a hateful look from her one and only son.

"What?"

The woman could not utter a response, still in shock at the state her son is in. She was so used to him being so indifferent whenever they talk, making it seem as if her advices and sermons have no effect at the slightest.

Meanwhile, Scaramouche, at the lack of response from his mother, could not stop himself anymore.

Scaramouche felt like a balloon — thinned, worn out, and keeping too much inside.

Much more than he could handle.

And his mother's words that night felt like a sharpened needle.

"Why the fuck do I always have to do what you tell me?" He finally snapped.

"What?"

"Can't you see that I'm trying?! And yet you always see something!" Scaramouche gritted his teeth.

"You always see something to criticize! You always see something like a flaw! You always see something wrong!" He yelled, shortly followed by a bitter laugh. "Heck, maybe you even consider my birth to be something wrong."

A swift slap cut him off.

Somehow, the physical pain inflicted by his mother got him out of his continuous outbursts, replacing his seething anger with shock. No matter how cold and strict his mother was, she had never gotten physical with him.

Refusing to believe what just happened, a wondering Scaramouche looked back up to his mother's face — only to see her eyes dripping and her cheeks stained.

'Are those tears?'

'My mother... crying?'

"How could you say something like that Kunikuzushi?"

"How can you treat your life so lightly like that?" Ei sobbed. "Your birth wasn't something wrong — it was the most beautiful thing that happened to me."

The young man just stared at her, probably in disbelief.

"You are my son, a part of me, something even more important than myself —"

"— and that's why I never wish to see you hurt."

"Hah," Scaramouche scoffed. "Really?"

The man could not do anything but laugh ironically. She doesn't want to see him hurt, she says?

'I hate to break it to you mom, but you've been doing that for so long.'

How many lies would she feed him tonight?

"I don't want you to suddenly commit a mistake while playing, put yourself to shame, and be unnecessarily criticized and judged heavily." The purple-haired woman said. "And if that happens? Then what? You'll be so affected by all the backlash, and then you'll finally lose yourself?"

Scaramouche swore he never expected to see his mother cry so hard. In fact, crying was one of the things he thought his mother was incapable of doing. But what was she saying?

Where is she getting all this from?

"What?"

"I don't want anyone precious to me to ever experience that again."

"What the heck are you talking about, mom?"

It was a slip of the tongue, unconsciously going back to what he once used to call the woman in front of him. A slip of the tongue that he failed to catch, but did not go past his own mother, whose memories of the days when he used to call her 'mom' flashed by her eyes.

But before she could even explain herself, someone else made their presence known.

"Your mother had a sister, you see."

It was Yae.

His mother's old friend.

“Have you ever heard of Makoto?” The pink-haired lady asked. Scaramouche could not see the relevance of her question, but he decided to humor her nonetheless. “Who?”

“My twin sister.”

“You had a sister?!”

Scaramouche thought he knew a lot about his mother. But really, is he even qualified to say that he knew her if he knew nothing about her past before having him? Everything he knew about Ei were memories of them together. Her being a loving mother to him when he was little, her having Yae as her only friend, her suddenly changing her parental practices once he started his soccer career — all of them were memories of her after his existence.

Only now did he realize he never knew anything about his mother’s past.

Yae sighed. “How is he ever going to understand if you never told him about Makoto, Ei?”

“It’s too dark of a story. He might not be able to handle it.”

“And you think he can handle your coldness and strictness forever?”

“What, do you want me to discourage my son from his dreams of being a top soccer player by telling him that my twin sister fucked up on a game just once, got so many backlash and became the people’s punching bag, went depressed up to the point that she couldn’t handle it anymore and eventually lost herself?” Ei spat out. “I don’t want to scare him off from achieving his dreams, but I can’t also risk the possibility of him having the same experience as my sister.”

What the fuck?

Merely processing the things he was hearing already required so much from the young man. He could not bear to disturb the conversation between the two ladies, lest there are still some things he should hear.

“So you set high expectations for him?”

“It was the only way I thought of.”

“Have you ever considered the thought that you yourself may actually be ruining his dreams for him?”

“What?” Ei turned her gaze to Scaramouche for a moment, allowing her to once again notice the state that her son was in. Trembling hands clenched into fists, focused yet glossy eyes, and brows furrowed — she couldn’t tell if they were out of fury or confusion. Perhaps it was both.

“You are making your son hate that dream of his that you sought to protect with the way you are treating him, Ei.” Yae walked towards the young man and lightly tapped his shoulder. “What this kid wants is to have fun playing, not play under constant expectations and strictness from his mother.”

Scaramouche looked up at her, who only smiled at him in return. “Isn’t that right, Kunikuzushi?”

He turned his face away from her and immediately swatted her hand from his shoulder. “What would you know about what I want?”

“Oh? But was I wrong?” She grinned. “No response? I must’ve been right then.”

“Shut up.”

“You’re just salty I’m right.”

“I am not?” The guy scowled. “Stop making things up you annoying hag —“

“Uh, excuse me?! What hag?!”

A certain purple-haired woman remained all throughout the banter between her son and her friend. When was the last time her son spoke to her without reservations like that? No, when was the last time they even had a proper conversation, one where he isn’t replying with words not even amounting to a handful?

“Ei, I want to ask you something.” A voice brought her out of her trance. “How do the other players on your team look whenever they practice and play?”

“Tired.” Ei described exactly how the boys on the team looked whenever they were on the field. Their whole beings drenched in sweat, their limbs trembling, their breaths hurried.

But despite everything, she remembered that they were having fun.

“But were they having fun?”

“They were.”

“And how does your own son look whenever he’s on the field?”

For the first time that night, absolute silence reigned over their abode’s front yard.

“See?” The pink-haired woman smiled. “Don’t you want Kunikuzushi to have the same experience as everybody else on your team?”

For the first time, Scaramouche heard the two words he thought he would never ever hear coming out from his mother’s mouth.

“I’m sorry.”

KEEP MY HEART — scara x reader smau

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