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joelsmochi · 8 months

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honey ♡ joel miller

rating: E 18+ only pairing: beekeeper!joel x f!reader summary: joel is obviously beekeeping age warnings: not proofread, no outbreak, best friends dad!joel, soft!joel, unspecified 30+ year age gap, a hint unrealistic in the sense that sarah doesn’t care, lots of bee science, mentions of bees/bee stings (ouch), honey play (i had to), fingering, f receiving oral, kitchen sex, pet names, plenty of dirty talk (mhm yes yum) a/n: i totally didn’t google bee sex for like an hour just to be accurate… nope… no i didn’t. lol enjoy & happy valentines day ;)

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“Which eyeshadow should I use?”

You looked at the small, black palette and its array of choices before telling Sarah, “Purple, it goes great with green dresses.”

Sarah began to brush the product onto her eyelids while she talked about her plans for tonight with her boyfriend, Alex; her voice became white noise as you caught a glimpse of her father in the backyard working on something.

“Your dad’s a beekeeper, right?” You asked without realizing you interrupted her.

“Uh… Yeah?”

“Cool… How’d he get into that? Doesn’t seem like the type to… Save bees?”

“What do you mean?” She mumbled beneath her working hand.

Shrugging, you tried to keep your expression and tone neutral. “Aren’t beekeepers usually a bit dorky?”

“My dad is a dork.”

“I mean, not really,” you chuckled, watching the man pull out the different trays and examine them. “It’s cute, your dad keeping bees… How old is he again?”

Sarah only rolled her eyes.

“He’s definitely beekeeping age,” you continued. “Kinda sweet. Him caring for a colony of bees in your backyard.”

Your best friend was now looking at you look at her father—correction: you were ogling him. Your attempts at seeming unbothered by his looks failed. Sarah always said you wore your heart on your forehead sometimes.

You just couldn’t help it; Joel was tall and big and broad and… Older. He wore a tough exterior, one that always intimidated you, but now you see him tending to bees. The man was a softie at heart, not to mention insanely hot.

His skin tanned even deeper from the long hours of being in the sun, and his forehead littered with droplets of sweat. Was it so wrong to think about Joel f—

“Sarah, I wanna fuck your d—“

“Oh, really?”

You shrugged and sat down on her bed. “Can you blame me?! He’s like… Twenty times hotter than the guys our age.”

“He’s also twenty times your age,” she spat.

“Doesn’t he have a brother?” You shamelessly asked.

She scoffed and looked at you in disbelief. “Yeah, who’s married and has three kids.”

You groaned softly. “Bummer.”

“You have a fucking insane sex drive, you know?”

“Ugh, tell me about it,” you whined, “It’s making me masturbate more than I’d like.”

“You know what, if you wanna make the bold attempt to fuck my fifty year old dad then you have my blessing,” she sarcastically told you.

You simply raised an eyebrow and stared at her shit-eating grin, waiting for her to tell you she was joking. “Don’t bullshit me, Sarah, ‘cause you know I will.”

“Ah—la la la la la! I am not—I am not listening to it anymore. Get it out of your system before I take it back.”

You pretended to lock your lips and throw the key away as she got back on her boyfriend, but all you could think about was her dad.

♡

You waited for Sarah’s boyfriend’s car to leave the driveway before shakily fixing your hair and lip gloss, then you walked into the backyard with eyes set on the man and his work.

“Mr. Miller,” you called once you were a few feet away from him.

He looked up for a split second and motioned his head as a greeting, saying your name in response.

“Bees?”

“Yes, ma’am. Somethin’ I can help you with?”

Shrugging, you walked a little closer but kept your distance fearing a bee sting. “Maybe.”

He lifted a panel up and briefly examined it until he noticed the lingering silence. His dark eyes locked with yours and he sensed your hesitation. “You allergic?”

You only shook your head.

“They’re calm if you are.”

I am so not fucking calm right now, you thought.

“C’mere darlin’. I’ll show ya.”

He used his index and middle finger to beckon you, and you instantly fixated on why you were there in the first place.

You made the daring move to take a few more steps, ears coaxed by the hum of the colony.

“They usually only sting if you annoy them, or smell like a flower.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t spray floral perfume on my shirt this morning,” you joked.

He almost laughed as the bees didn’t seem to care for you so far. “Honeybees really don’t want to sting you.”

“‘Cause it kills ‘em, right?”

Nodding, Joel says, “Exactly. Their number one goal is to protect the queen. Second is to survive whatever threats they face.”

“How’d you get into this kinda stuff?” You asked.

You were trying to find some way to bring up your question without being sudden or rude, though beekeeping didn’t seem like a helpful topic.

“When Sarah was little she used to get a lot of rashes and she had some bad allergies. That over the counter medicine didn’t help, but honey helped. The natural shit— stuff they sell at the store… Well, it gets expensive. And I didn’t have as good a job as I do now... So I figured I’d give it a go and make my own honey.“

“That’s sweet of you. My dad always had me tough it out,” you chuckled.

“I have plenty stashed away in the kitchen. You’re welcome to take some,” he offered. “Hey, what was it you needed?”

“Oh, uh.” You pursed your lips unsure of whether or not you should lie. “Well, I have this sort of… Itch.”

“Itch? It’s not an STD is it, ‘cause I don’t think honey can help with that.”

You knew it was a deadpan joke but the tension had your face stuck in a scrunch.

“No. Not an STD,” you answered. “I just, uh… I really like you, I guess.”

“I hope so, you’ve been eating up half my groceries for the past twenty somethin’ years.”

Idiot.

“No, I mean…” You realized you wouldn’t be able to ask him. “Never mind, uh. Just forget it.”

He watched you turn and begin walking away before it dawned on him. “Oh!”

You faced him again, scratching your head and giving him a nervous look. “Yeah, like I said: forget it. We can just pretend I never asked—“

“Come here,” he said, adjusting his jeans and walking to the other side of the apiary. “Wanna show ya somethin’.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting your stress response of fleeing the scene and standing beside him again.

“Do you know why bees are so loyal to their queen?” He asked after pulling a panel out to show you.

“Mnh-mnh.”

“The queen is the only bee in the entire hive that can produce more bees. Again, a bee’s second main goal is to preserve the life of their species. The queen produces pheromones that calm the bees down and keep the structure within the colony. Drone bees are male bees that really only exist to mate with the queen when she’s a virgin and out of the hive. Worker bees are females that aren’t the queen, but they’re very nurturing. Especially to the queen because she’s the one in charge.”

“Ahh, a matriarchy. Count me in,” you giggled.

Joel chuckled and pulled a switchblade out of his pocket before forcing the blade to whip out. “Do you know how bees mate?”

His voice sounded a little more quiet, and his eyes met yours with curiosity. You shook your head and waited for him to explain.

“When a new queen is selected, she goes out just one time to find a group of drones who will essentially take her virginity. And drones have an endophallus so after they ejaculate into her, their insides are ripped out and the drone dies. When a new drone comes up to mate with the queen, he removes the last guy’s endophallus and does the same thing. Mate with her… And die. She can mate with about ten or twenty different drones before flying back to the hive and laying eggs.”

“So the drones’ only purpose is to mate with a queen?” You asked.

He began cutting away a small piece of the wax, and the honey trickled down slowly.

“It’s the only reason he lives,” Joel muttered. You watched his thick fingers scoop up the liquid gold and he raised them to your lips. “He waits… And waits… And waits… For the right queen to come along.”

He smirked at your amused expression.

“Are you trying to seduce me by telling me the sexual nature of bees?”

He softly shook his head and glanced at your shiny lips. “Not trying to seduce you. Just tellin’ you what most men really want.”

Exhaling, you tried to ignore his fingers lingering in front of your face. The sickly sweet smell of honey filled your nostrils as his words echoed inside of your head.

“Go on,” he whispered, “have a taste.”

It took you a few extra seconds to build up the confidence in order to take him on his dare, but you made sure you did it as slowly as possible.

Your lips parted and he immediately felt your warm breath flow over his fingers; instinctively, your tongue darted out to catch a drop of the honey before it fell to the ground. Then you wrapped your lips around his digits, softly moaning at the sweet tasting nectar that coated his wood scented fingers.

WIth steady eyes you watch his brown orbs darken with lust, hearing him let out a huff and seeing the muscles in his face relax as if your slick tongue gave him the satisfaction he’d been seeking for a long time.

You swirled your tongue around, persisted to taste every last drop. The thickness coated your throat while you desperately wanted it to be something other than honey.

Your lips left his hand with a wet pop that prompted him to lick whatever saliva and honey remained on his fingers.

“Tastes good.”

“Just good?”

“Tastes delicious,” you corrected.

He let out a soft chuckle and put the wood panel back in its place.

“Sarah know you’re out here?”

After rolling your eyes and smirking you said, “She doesn’t need to know. Actually quite sure she wouldn’t want to know. Besides, Alex just picked her up, so.”

“So we’re all alone,” he finished.

“I’m gonna go get some of that honey you were talking about. Though I might need your help finding the right cabinet.”

He watched you walk back into the house before following you; once inside he saw you reaching into a cabinet in the corner, but a big red bruise on your arm caught his attention.

Joel walked over to you and grabbed your arm. Confused, you tried to see what he was looking at to no avail.

“You got stung right here,” he said as if he read your mind. He started walking over to the correct cabinet.

Frowning, you lifted your arm before spotting the bump. “Weird. Didn’t even feel it.”

“S’normal,” he muttered.

He stepped in front you to lift you up underneath your arms and sit you on top of the kitchen island.

You carefully watched as he opened up a sealed mason jar and stood between your legs.

“Mmkay. Lift your arm up.”

You did as he told and tried not to grimace while he scraped the stinger out. Honestly you didn’t have to try too hard; he looked so good like this, taking good care of you. Focused and confident like he’d done this a million times. You were certain he had.

He dipped a finger into the jar and swiped a little honey over the bump, carefully rubbing it in and drifting his gaze to your eyes.

“Helps the itch,” he spoke. “You said you had one, right?”

“Think I’ve got a bigger itch,” you replied.

“Hmm. Where at?”

Biting your bottom lip you trailed a finger over your neck, finding your sweet spot and rubbing a small circle over it. “Here.”

Joel rubbed a some honey on your neck and lapped it up like a thirsty dog. He held back on sucking the skin, mindful that you might not be fond of hickeys.

“I get it?” His voice strained.

You hummed. “No… No it’s went down a little bit. Tryyy… Here.”

Your clavicle.

More honey. More licking.

“How ‘bout now?”

You took your shirt off revealing your breasts. “Try here, and here.”

Your breath shook when the cold liquid was smeared over your hardened nipples. Once he took the first one into his mouth you let a desperate breath and held the curve of his head in your palm, letting him have his way with your tits.

“Nope, still there,” you spoke once he pulled away.

His fingers found the button on your shorts, then the zipper.

“Damn itches,” he said, “they’re always so damn stubborn. Ain’t that right? S’okay. Think I have a remedy for that.”

Just like that your shorts and panties were off and his fingers scooped up some more honey—more than what was necessary for anything.

He bent down to your glistening pussy and lazily rubbed the honey all over. You’d be lying if you said that alone didn’t make that knot inside of you twist harder.

Joel’s tongue eagerly met your clit, and he didn’t bother wasting anymore time with teasing you. A gurgling moan left his mouth once he tasted your juices mixing with the honey, creating the perfect elixir for his tastebuds.

Your legs clamped around his head reactively but he was strong enough to force them apart and keep them open.

Whilst he sucked and pulled and lapped around your clit, your hands were reaching, searching for anything to grasp. As a result you ended up knocking over the jar and spilling its contents, but you were too dazed to give a fuck.

Somewhat annoyed with you flailing around like you’d never been eaten out before, Joel smacked the back of your thigh. You shuddered and calmed your body down, settling with pulling on his hair relentlessly since the force of his smack stung a little.

He preferred it that way; take your tension out on him. Make him hurt if it meant you felt good. It only stroked his ego.

His tongue slipped between your pussy lips and slurped up whatever it could, the vibrations making you cry out his name. He did it again and again and again and again and a-fucking-gain until he was certain you were screaming from an orgasm.

Joel moaned at your thick cum pouring out of your cunt and down his sticky chin, drinking up anything he wasn’t missing.

He only stopped when he figured you’d had enough and stood eye level with you while fumbling with his belt buckle.

“I think that itch got a little deeper now,” he cockily said, “wouldn’t you say?”

Your eyes were wide, pupils nearly blown, mouth agape, and chest heaving. “I think you can reach it just fine, Joel.”

Holding back a boastful laugh, he lined his erection up with your soft entrance and slid inside carefully.

“So pretty,” he whispered, “you look so fucking pretty like this, baby.”

You pulled his face in for a sloppy kiss, happily tasting the mixture of you and his honey. He noticed your hand was tacky from the spill and stuck a few fingers into his mouth, spreading the stickiness anywhere he could get it.

“Your cock,” you moaned into his chin. “So big.”

“It’s all yours, princess,” he moaned.

His hips pulled back and then snapped back into yours; his tip pressing into the deepest part of your pussy.

“Fuck. You get so fucking deep,” he praised. “S’it feel good, baby?”

“Yes,” you said against your will. “Oh my God, just like tha—fuck!”

Joel fucked you just the way you liked: fast, but not sloppily or too hard. He watched his cock disappear into you a dozen times, and he grew harder than he ever had before.

“You look so pretty with my cock inside. Such a dirty fucking girl,” he shouted over your moans. “You take it so well, baby.”

Joel felt the his orgasm begin to arrive so he pulled out and took a step back; you whined a bit and reached for him but you were already so sore.

Meanwhile he just undressed himself and laid you down on the marble countertop, climbing on top of you not long after.

“I hear you, baby,” he cooed. “You don’t need to beg… I’m gon’ take real good care a’you.”

You lazily smiled and wrapped your legs around his broad waist.

“There you go,” he whispered against your lips as he slid back into you, hearing your whines turn into moans. “There you go, sweetheart. I got you.”

He returned back to his original pace, only his hips thrusted harder into you. You felt every curve and vein along his cock, every inch he gave to you.

Your nails clawed at his back and feet dug into his hips. You reached for him in any way you could. His lips danced with yours as you drank each other’s honey-coated moans.

“Joel, fuck. Oh, Joel I’m gonna cum,” you admitted.

He felt your back arch off of the counter as if your tone was indicating enough.

“I know, baby, I know. You’re doing so well. I got you, I got you. Need you to look at me, darlin’, can you do that? Can ya look at me with those pretty eyes when you cum?”

You struggled to open your eyes, wanting to wilt up at the intensity building inside of you. But once you saw his eyes again you were hooked.

“Good girl,” he chuckled, wearing the proudest grin imaginable. “Doing such a good job, let it out sweetie. You can cum.”

“I’m cu—oh!”

“I know, babygirl. I can feel it. Let it out for me. Let it out for daddy.”

He watched and held you as you writhed from your orgasm; your skin was on fire, stomach fluttering with elation.

Joel loved the sound of your voice calling his name, so precious and shameless. He couldn’t hold back anymore. He didn’t want to. He wanted to make you his own, even if it had to be temporarily.

“Cum inside me,” you breathed out, feeling overstimulated and overstretched. “Need you to—ah.“

He leaned down for another kiss just when he began to cum inside, a feeling so raw and deep he hadn’t felt in years. He forgot how fucking good it felt, and savored it by pushing through every painful bit of the overstimulation.

Joel gave you a few more soft kisses and slowly got off of the island. He ran a hand over your thighs and watched you come down from your high.

“My hair is covered in honey,” you giggled.

“Let’s go wash you up. Maybe we can find a few more itches to scratch.”

#SORRY THIS IS KINDA RUSHED UMMM #pedro pascal #joel miller #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #tlou smut

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exodusin · 2 months

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♱ — 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬 𖤐 bill cipher x fem!reader, Who Framed Roger Rabbit au, bill cipher is Roger coded and you are the one and only Jessica Rabbit coded, Bill Cipher will be a triangle suck a lemon for those who don’t fuck with triangle bill

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

* ੈ✩‧₊˚

There you were, applying the first layers of your makeup, wearing a fluffy white robe to cover your sparkly, seductive red dress, while your hair was held by hair rollers as soft jazz played from your record player. Your assistant knocked on your door. "Mrs. Cipher, you have gifts."

"Bring them in, Stevie. Thank you," you said, your voice dripping with a sultry tone. Your assistant entered and placed the gifts onto your couch. You resumed applying your makeup, but a tag from the gifts caught your eye. You see the 'tag', which turns out to be a card.

"For my dearest, loveliest wife, from your one and only husband, Bill Cipher. Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo - flip to the second page for more hugs and kisses, dearest!" you read, a smile spreading across your lips.

You smiled lovingly at the tag and flipped to the second page without leaving out a word or letter. On the next page, there continued to be lots of 'xoxoxo's until you spotted a Polaroid picture of Bill. You saw the picture of Bill blinking, and unexpectedly, he popped out of the picture, floating above you with a mischievous grin.

"Well, well, well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes! Look at you! Looking beautiful as ever, toots!" Your triangle husband praised, doing a little spin in the air. He eagerly grabbed your hand and peppered it with kisses from his eyelid. "Mwah! Mwah! Mwah!" he exclaimed, his voice high-pitched and giddy.

You chuckled, and your eyelids rested unintentionally seductively since you were drawn that way to be unintentionally seductive. "Oh, honey, you flatter me way too much. I'm just wearing a mere robe, and my hair is still in rollers," you said in your natural deep voice. Bill rolled his cat-like pupil eye and scoffed dramatically.

"Nonsense, nonsense! I will love you and spoil you with my affection no matter what, dearest!" Bill declared, swooping down to plant a kisses on your hand. He then snapped his fingers, causing a clone of himself to appear and do the same to your other hand.

You sighed and shivered, feeling goosebumps on your exposed neck as the clone merged back into the original Bill. The yellow triangle then opened one of the boxes he had given you as a gift - it was a pair of sparkly, deep purple gloves.

"A pair of sparkly gloves for my brightest supernova that shines brighter than any other star from all the dimensions I've visited and destroyed," Bill giggled, doing a little jig in the air.

You smiled lovingly at him. You reached for the gloves, but he just pushed your hands away from them with his black fingers, tsking playfully.

"Ah, ah, ah, let me do the honor of putting these gloves on your beautiful hands and arms," he said, snatching up the gloves and carefully sliding them onto your fingers and arms, smoothing out any wrinkles with his extra hands.

With his extra hands, he wanted to do your makeup, gushing the entire time about how lucky he was to have a loving, hot diggity dynamite wife like you. "Oh, you're just the most beautiful and wonderous creature to ever exist, toots! The bee's knees! The cat's meow!" he exclaimed, giggling uncontrollably.

When he finished doing your makeup, he was just giggling at how beautiful you are, floating around you in circles. You looked at the mirror and just dotted a fake mole on your cheek.

"Oh, Billy, honey, you are such an artist," you said seductively, grabbing him and peppering his 'face' or triangle body with kisses, leaving lipstick marks all over him. You finished with one final, lingering smooch on his 'lips', which are his eyelids.

Bill's body jolted like electricity at the kiss, and his top hat let out a train-like whistle at your affection. Once you broke the kisses, Bill was over the moon and couldn't stop giggling, doing loop-de-loops in the air.

As you were going to take off your robe that covers your sparkly red dress and undo the hair rollers, Bill stopped you, claiming he wanted to wowed and surprised once he sees you perform on stage all dolled up.

"See you later, Billy," you said, giving him a coy wink.

He giggled like an idiot, his voice cracking. "See you later, angel lips!" he squeaked, before zipping out of the room in a blur of yellow and black.

#bill cipher x reader #gravity falls #bill cipher #the book of bill #who framed roger rabbit #whiskies and whistles ; bill cipher x reader

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beomie3 · 11 months

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fangs - c.sb

bf!soobin x fem!reader

summary — the proper way of doing your boyfriend's vampire makeup for a costume party is straddling him, of course <3 + the hickeys you left on his neck are only part of the costume, right?

wc — 2.1k

content — established relationship, smut, you both love marking one another <3 rough make out, unprotected sex, cursing, you do soobin’s eyeliner hehe

♫ fangs - matt champion

✩ this is fic 2/5 of my halloween spooky series!

"bin- we only have an hour," you're slightly out of breath as you try to inform your boyfriend of the time in between heavy kisses. he has you pinned against your wardrobe as you two were in the midst of getting ready for a halloween costume party that started in about an hour.

you still had to do his eye makeup but you just couldn't resist him with how sexy he looked in his sharp black suit; black tie snug to his neck, tight dress pants hugging his legs so perfectly. faux vampire fangs slightly poking the plush of his bottom lip. how could you resist?

you tugged his tie gently to pull him closer, walking forward while he blindly walked backward to sit in your vanity's chair when you lightly pushed him down into it.

his chin was about to your chest with how tall he was still whilst sitting down, darkened eyes staring up at you and what felt nearly pierced your soul.

"close your eyes for me," you lightly swiped your hand over his eyelids as you bit the eyeliner cap off and held it between your teeth, tilting his chin up with your free hand.

his legs were spread irresistibly as you stood in between them, tongue pressing into his own cheek with a subtle smirk growing on his lips. you just knew he wanted you and you wanted him just as bad. if it weren't for the time crunch, the two of you would probably be tangled in the sheets. but that wasn't to think about now, was it?

you ran the pencil along his lash line, gently smudging it around with your fingers, stopping to admire just how beautiful he looked in this lighting; jet black hair messily gelled back revealing his pretty eyebrows, supple skin, the soft and sharp contrasts of his facial structure.

"open," his eyes fluttered at the command of your voice, more intense now that they were sexily smudged with eyeliner. you then ran some in his waterline, his eyes never leaving yours. he loved observing you at work, finding your concentration utterly admirable. you stepped back after you had finished, absolutely head over heels.

now, this was it. holy shit. you knew your boyfriend was sexy as hell already but- his eyes lined and smudged effortlessly and dark left you with your lip between your teeth. he was irresistible.

"how do i look?" his voice was low, smoky gaze penetrating yours. how does he look? what kind of question is that? you bit your cheek, a glint in your eyes that undressed him where he sat. it wasn't until he skimmed his long fingers up your thigh that a certain buzz ignited your skin, tickling your core in a dangerous way. the party started in forty-five minutes. fuck it.

you had no words except the small moan that left your throat when you crashed your lips to his passionately, his large hands helping you to straddle his lap and snaking them around the small of your back to keep you there.

"you look so handsome," you whisper into his ear, sending chills up his spine at the warmth of your breath down his neck, turning him on infinitely. you kissed down his neck, stopping for several moments to decorate the soft skin with red marks that you knew he loved receiving. you began loosening his tie, enough to unbutton his white button-up, smoothing your hand over his exposed chest; a perfect canvas for kissing and licking all over.

your red lipstick left lip-shaped imprints all over the contours of his pecks, something he found so hot; he just wanted your kisses all over his body. attaching your lips to his neck, you sucked and bit at the skin, decorating him with your art.

happy with your purple and red splotches on his neck and chest, it was his turn. skimming his nose against your jaw, you angled your head to give him access to your neck; warm and supple for him to suck the life out of it. dragging the tip of his tongue across your neck, you shivered, tangling your fingers in the loose hair at the nape of his neck when he began suckling at the skin, soft and wet lips addicting against your sensitive flesh.

although, this time it was more intense with the dull ache of his fangs against your skin, turning you on in a way you couldn't even begin to explain. boy, would people know he's yours and you're his at the party. your matching vampire costumes would make sense now, with the red splotch and bites across your necks which emulate a vampire bite from one another <3

his hard-on was no secret as it prodded your wetness against your panties. luckily, that was all you were wearing under your black mini-skirt. you began to grind against the firmness in his pants, whimpering as it perfectly soothed your aching clit, tingles darting up and into your stomach.

he groaned against your neck, guiding your hips with a firm grip. you were pushing him nearly over the edge with your pretty noises in his ear; oh, soobin~ you're so sexy. and so hard, all for me? he could nearly explode at any moment. he needed you, bad.

that's it. suddenly, he groaned, picking you up swiftly and carrying you to the door of your bedroom as it was directly ahead, pressing your back against it as you wrapped your legs tightly around his hips. sharp black stiletto heels digging into the backs of his thighs.

he cursed under his breath as he held you against the cold wood of the door, the plush of your thighs becoming revealed under your skirt as the material was pushed up to your waist, his eyes darkening more and more as he looked your body up and down like it was a fucking buffet.

"soobin, baby..." you ran your fingers down his exposed chest, then returned them to his face, swiping your thumb over his lips. "...fuck me."

your tongue across his bottom lip was all he needed to be completely set over the edge, holding you up against the door with one hand and unbuckling his belt with the other, his sleek pants dropping to the floor in an instant. the ironed dress shirt he tucked in so perfectly an hour ago was long forgotten about at this moment, everything leaving his mind. it was just you.

using a finger to hook your soaked panties aside, he looked you dead in the eye. a hungry, no, starved look prevalent within them. you smirked, seeing him so hot and desperate for you all had you almost moaning at the sight.

"like this?" he groaned lowly against your lips, slurring his words as he slowly pushed himself into you. his dick stretched you so good, so hard and curling up to kiss your g-spot at the perfect angle. you threw your head back into the door, only his name and yes yes yes to escape your lips repeatedly, so drunk on his cock already.

"mhmm?" he pressed kisses over the bruising hickeys on your neck, his hips rutting against yours slowly yet intensely, each thrust causing a thud at the door with his strength. he didn't give you much time to adjust to him because he knew you could take him. your pussy was just molded for him <3

"fuck soobin, fuck!" tears pricked your eyes as he rutted his hips against yours so harshly, fucking you so good you couldn't even think straight. nothing but the sound of both of your whimpers harmonizing, the slick sounds of him entering you repeatedly, the slapping of his full thighs against your ass, the thudding at the door with every thrust. he loved every bit of it.

he especially loved getting to watch your chest bounce against his at this angle, nipples poking through the thin silk of your top. he groaned at the sight, leaning down to help one strap off at a time with his teeth to free your tits. he pressed his lips to your collarbones, leaving even more marks behind.

an hour ago, you thought the two of you would be in the car by now, making your merry way to the costume party in your matching costumes. but no, here you were, getting absolutely fucked out of your mind; suspended against your bedroom door, getting handled in any way your boyfriend pleased. but you loved it. you loved everything he did to you.

even so that he now had you bent over the counter of your vanity, staring at each other's reflection in the large lit mirror. tight skirt pulled over your hips, his large hands holding you firmly in place as he pounded into you from behind, squeezing the plush of your ass.

everything about his reflection in the mirror was drop-dead gorgeous; the sweat beading on his forehead, your red lipstick smeared all over his mouth, neck, and chest. the depth of his smoky eyes piercing yours as he absolutely ruined you.

your legs were shaking in your high heels, nearly giving out but he firmly held you there, leaning over you to press kisses to your shoulder blades, exposed through the dainty straps of your silky top that hung lazily off of your shoulders.

"wanna come for me, beautiful?" he whispered into your ear from behind, reaching around to rub circles into your clit, causing you to clench and flutter around his fullness. he buried his face in your hair at the sensation, deep moans and whimpers exiting his mouth. the sound so pretty and lewd and pushing you right to the edge.

all you could do was desperately nod at him through the mirror, a familiar tickle at your core that only needed one more thrust to send you spiraling into white-hot pleasure. with one final thrust, the deepest one yet, you were moaning his name like it was a prayer, his eyes fixed intensely on yours, so satisfied to watch your face contort in pleasure.

your orgasmic pulsations around his cock was enough to have him spurting hot cum inside of you, thrusting it deep inside of you and watching as some leaked out and dripped onto the floor.

"holy fuuck," he cursed in your ear at the intensity of your orgasms, hot breath spreading across your neck that was covered in sweat, his thrusts slowing as you both rode out your highs, catching your breath before he pulled out of you.

your arms and legs were dead tired as they had held you up against the table the entire time, almost giving out but he spun you around and held you tightly against his chest, pressing kisses to your lips and neck, trailing his hands softly all over your body as to show his gratitude. he carried you to the bathroom bridal style and helped clean you up, oh SHIT coming from behind the bathroom door when you both realized the party was five minutes away from staring.

you hastily helped clean him up as well and returned to the vanity where you stared at one another's reflections. you couldn't help but laugh; the two of you were a fucking mess.

but to be honest, you both looked a lot more like vampires than what your original costumes even called for, and a lot sexier too; faces shimmery under the dim candlelight of your room, disheveled hair like you just went out on some sort of feral hunting mission.

the only thing you had to touch up was your lipstick because it was completely gone, all transferred onto him. his eyeliner was a bit smeared but so much sexier this way.

"ready to go win this contest?" you stared at him in the mirror as you had finished reapplying your lipstick, slinging your sleek bag over your shoulder. you almost blushed with how sexy both of you looked, basking in a certain afterglow that just radiated off of your faces.

he interlaced his fingers with yours and looked down at you, the shadow of his figure towering over yours and cast against he wall by candlelight. the two of you were just the perfect pair.

he didn't say anything but instead bent down to hug you, smothering you in his embrace. you hugged him back, suddenly yelping when he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, spanking you and speed walking out of the door.

"we can't win if we're late!"

that was your soob; just fucked your brains out, but worried about being late. that was your man <3

a/n: my spooky series was on hold for a bit but i will still try to get out the rest of the fics!! thank you so much for 500 followers, u are the best :) i hope everyone has a safe halloween and tysm reading <3 comment if you’d like to be tagged in the rest of the series!

tagslist: @love-be0m @izzyexe @mhasimp666 @alialialisstuff @caaaptaaainamericaaa @airax1 @slut4saerom

©beomie3

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satoruhour · 1 year

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a/n: INTENSE rambling about gojo’s dimples / jjk manga spoilers (alluding to a physical feature of gojo, rather than a plot point) + includes manga panels under the cut + mini barbie spoilers? lol, just a warning if you haven’t watched it! / 0.8k ✶

if satoru notices your recent fascination with his smile, he doesn’t say anything, and rather lets your finger trace over the skin of his face. over the stark white lashes of his eyes to the peculiar double eyelids that ran through the gojo clan. your fingers like to leave trails of unspoken admiration over the skin of his pale cheeks, blushed red from the cold of the tokyo winter to the plump, shiny pair of lips — it’s because he liked to lick them so much.

it first starts out when you’re on the brink of death (gojo puts it that way, you were just immensely tired from fighting a regenerative curse) that you’ve made such a startling discovery, poking at the dip in his cheek in an almost robot-like way before you let out one last sigh, fainting from the fatigue.

and later in shoko’s office, you’re doing it again to his sleeping form, angled toward you while he sat in an uncomfortable chair, hand tightly clutching onto yours. the sight melts your heart, moreso when he leans into your gentle finger, drawing over the familiarity of your love.

“baby! baby, oh my god, you’re awake— let me go get s—”

“stay with me, ’toru,” you mumble, already feeling tired again from the toll which took over your body.

the same soft smile that he donned matches the one in the kitchen just a week ago, enjoying the mediocrity of the morning with your lover. gojo is situated between your legs as you brush the hairs from his face, staring at you with a tug on his heart and trembling breaths. your hands have abandoned your coffee cup, left to the side while you just map out the coordinates of his eyes, his sharp nose, the same plump lips that now frequents your strawberry lip balm.

“why’re you so pretty?” you mumble mindlessly, thumbs subconsciously dipping into the dimples beside his smile. the smile that is only reserved for you, like the one in shoko’s office.

gojo’s smile widens into a grin now as he leaves the question unanswered, mainly because he’s wondering why you’re the one asking the question when he feels like you could rival a goddess and win by miles; when he feels like the ache of his knees from worshipping you is worth every bruise.

“should be asking you that, sweetness,” satoru’s voice is raspy from just waking up, scooting closer to the kitchen counter which you’re propped on and pulling your closer, “you paralyse me each time my eyes lay on you.”

you roll your eyes with a giggle, leaning in for a soft kiss laced with dawn’s morning light of blue and purple, humming needily when you feel his hands wander over your body, squeezing and kneading at your waist. and before he turns away to go ahead with the day (not without a little complaining and more kisses — he’s just so drunk on you), he doesn’t miss the way your eyes drop to his lips again, or rather, to the right side of his mouth.

satoru makes a mental note to ask you about it the next time you do it, a stroke of luck when you’re having movie night two days later and instead of staring at ryan gosling yell “SUBLIME!”, you’re admiring gojo’s smile once again and the slight tip of his head when he giggles at the movie.

“you’re not entirely secretive, y’know?” the other simply pulls you closer, satisfied with having you under his embrace and relishing in being able to see how your cheeks heat up with his six eyes. he’s watched barbie once already, so he doesn’t exactly need to pay attention.

“why’d you keep poking my cheek, baby, hm?” gojo is not opposed when you straddle him on the couch, bringing two thumbs to the corners of his mouth and pulling, an exaggerated smile spreading across his face that you can’t help but let out a loud laugh; he catches your wrists and laughs with you, littering little kisses to your fingers.

“why do you like my smile so much?”

“nothin’,” you whisper, “it’s more of your dimples, actually.”

“oh?” gojo’s lips stretch into a smile he usually gives his students, finger feeling around on his cheek for the familiar dip. to be honest, even he didn’t really pay attention to his features, pressing incessantly at the area once he’s found the dimple. “didn’t even know i had…”

“oh, you do!” satoru trails off as he lets you ramble about the many many times you’ve seen it, focused more on the way your eyes gleam in the dim living room light. he’s fixated on the smell of your shampoo and the illumination of your body from the tv’s light.

at least, in this hour, the sorcerer could wish for everything a normal life could bring; a life where he isn’t weighed down by the title of the strongest, where he could listen to you talk about the features on his face and watch barbie with you.

gojo satoru learns more and more about himself through the lens of your eyes — a love letter sealed with the saccharine strawberry you apply every morning and your whispered confessions that hold a multitude of suns to leave his fingertips blazing and heart soaring.

god i love him sm :(

#jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojou satoru x reader

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keisobe · 2 years

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: 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 — (𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐲𝐚𝐦 + 𝐥𝐨’𝐚𝐤 𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲)

— from avatar 2 : way of the water (spoiler free!!)

contents. f! reader, reader is a na’vi, established relationships, teen romance, small kissing scenes, use of a pet name, all fluff + wc. 701

notes. this was really fun to write, though i struggled to write lo’ak around this time ㅠㅠ hope you guys enjoy tho!

NETEYAM 𖥔 ݁ . ༅ — “good girl.”

“hey!” your ears perked up when you heard a familiar voice, stopping you from observing the array of herbs and gleaming seeds that you needed to restock for your medical supplies.

turning your head, you see neteyam running through the patches of glossy leaves and fresh soil— a bright smile adorning his blue face. you couldn’t help but smile back, resuming back to arranging the seeds and herbs into different pouches as his footsteps became more distinct.

neteyam lingered behind you, amused by your fluid fingers hastily grinding apart certain herbs and seeds to make them into a fine powder— he was always fascinated by how attentive you are in becoming a healer. one day you’ll make an amazing tsahík.

“do you have the medicine for tuk?” he asks, swatting off the insects that flew near your dewy skin. you nodded in reply, rummaging through the purple woven basket that neteyam gifted you. the basket was embroidered with personal designs that were done by neteyam; it nearly took him a month to make.

“yes, i just made it a while ago,” you assured, the sounds of bottles clicking against each other and the intense fragrance of heady floral aroma filled neteyam’s senses.

“here it is,” without looking at him, you held the vial of green liquid behind you as he took it from your grasp— resuming back to stocking up on medicine.

neteyam knelt down to your level, leaning towards your pointed ear.

“good girl,” he muttered, patting your head gently before sweetly running his fingers through the locks of your hair.

your cheeks burned with an obvious blush, completely flustered by his word choice. but before you can comment on it, neteyam presses a quick peck on your slightly agape lips, returning back into the forest to tend to his little sister.

LO’AK 𖥔 ݁ . ༅ — “so pretty.”

the marui was lit with a burning lantern, only you and lo’ak lay awake in the night. he was longingly staring at the enchanting scenery through the entrance— milky white splotches and dashes of blue adorned the sky. you sat beside him, resting your head against his shoulder.

“this will never get old,” your voice cuts through the nightly air, the glowing waves sloshing beneath both of your feet.

lo’ak only hummed in reply, his eyelids feeling heavy with exhaustion. after swimming for most of the day, he couldn’t help but feel an ache penetrating through his muscles— recalling back to the crazy stunts he did to impress you.

you instantly noticed his fatigue and decided it was time to sleep. lo’ak felt your warmth disappear from his bare shoulder, he groaned from the loss of contact— a bubble of irritation coursing through his veins.

still, you managed to drag him deeper to the pod, despite all his slurring whines and poor attempts to blink away the sleep.

with a warm woven blanket and a plush pillow, you gently tucked lo’ak to sleep. he felt your fingertips smooth out the wrinkles of the sheets— slowly lulling him to sleep. your touch traveled towards his face, brushing off the stray braids that threaten to hide his yellow eyes.

for a little bit, you hummed a calming melody that your mother would always sing to you, helping you doze through the bad dreams. lo’ak watched the way your hair glistened under the dusky sky and the flutter of your lashes when you hummed the favorite part of your song.

he reached towards the hair that fell from your face, tucking it behind your ear.

“so pretty,” lo’ak whispered, running his thumb on top of your balmy lips. warmth prickled onto your cheeks as he said that, relieved that the darkness could hide the color that developed on your skin.

before you could wish him a good night, lo’ak was fast asleep— a low purr exhaled from his mouth. you smiled at how peaceful he looked in his sleep, grazing a soft kiss onto his lips before your eyes wander back to the night sky.

#✩.*˚ — ina’s works🎂#ੈ♡˳ — (atwow) 📁#* ੈ♡˳ — (neteyam sully) 🎞️#* ੈ♡˳ — (lo’ak sully) 🎞️#— ౨ৎ ࣪ . ⊹ : drabbles #avatar fanfiction #neteyam x reader #lo’ak x reader #neteyam sully x reader #lo’ak sully x reader #avatar imagine #avatar headcanons #avatar way of water #avatar 2

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callsigns-haze · 1 month

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Unexpected twist

Pairing: Tim Bradford x Reader

Chapter Summary: Tim and Y/N's first date at a fancy restaurant is interrupted by a robbery, turning a romantic evening into a spontaneous takedown and leaving their relationship exposed to their curious colleagues.

Chapter Warning: This chapter contains a sudden shift from a romantic date to an intense, potentially dangerous situation involving a robbery, with moments of suspense, gun use, and police intervention.

A/N: My first fic about the rookie eeeeeeeeek

The evening was perfect—the kind of night that begged for romance. The sun had just set, leaving behind a soft twilight that bathed Los Angeles in shades of purple and gold. The upscale restaurant Tim Bradford had chosen was nestled in a quiet corner of the city, known for its elegance and discretion. It was the kind of place where celebrities could dine without being disturbed, and tonight, it was the stage for a first date that had been a long time coming.

Tim arrived first, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and nerves. His usually steady hands betrayed a slight tremor as he adjusted the cuffs of his navy-blue suit. The suit was perfectly tailored, accentuating his broad shoulders and athletic build, the sharp lines giving him an air of authority even out of uniform. The crisp white shirt he wore beneath it was open at the collar, revealing a hint of tanned skin, and his dark leather shoes were polished to a mirror shine. His hair was neatly styled, though a few rebellious strands fell across his forehead, softening the hard lines of his face. He glanced at his reflection in the window, making a mental note to ease up on the cologne—he wanted to make an impression, not overwhelm her.

Just as Tim settled into his seat, Y/N Y/L/N entered the restaurant, and for a moment, he forgot how to breathe. She was a vision in an emerald-green dress that hugged her curves in all the right places, the rich color bringing out the warmth of her skin. The neckline was a perfect balance—elegant yet suggestive, hinting at the strength beneath the softness. Her hair was styled in loose waves that cascaded over her shoulders, and her makeup was subtle but impeccable, with a soft shimmer on her eyelids that caught the light just so. A delicate gold necklace adorned her neck, matching the small, sparkling earrings that completed her look. She moved with a grace that was both natural and practiced, each step exuding confidence.

Tim stood as she approached, his heart beating a little faster than usual. "Wow," he said, his voice dropping an octave, full of genuine admiration. "You look... stunning."

Y/N smiled, a hint of a blush rising to her cheeks. "Thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself, Bradford. I almost didn't recognize you without the uniform and scowl."

He chuckled, the tension easing slightly. "I save the scowl for the rookies. And for bad guys. I promise you won't see it tonight."

She raised an eyebrow playfully as she took her seat. "We'll see about that. I’m sure I could get it out of you if I tried."

Tim’s eyes sparkled with amusement. "Careful, Detective. You don’t want to see me at my worst tonight."

"Oh, I’m not afraid of you," Y/N teased, her voice dropping to a flirtatious whisper. "In fact, I’m looking forward to it."

Tim leaned in slightly, his gaze locking with hers. "You know, I wasn't sure you'd actually say yes to this. We've worked together for a while, and I didn’t know if you’d be interested in mixing business with… pleasure."

Y/N's lips curled into a slow, seductive smile. "Who says I’m interested in pleasure, Bradford? Maybe I just wanted to see if you’re as tough off-duty as you are on."

His grin widened, clearly enjoying the banter. "Oh, I’m just as tough, but I can be pretty charming when I want to be."

"Charming, huh?" Y/N’s tone was light, teasing. "I’ll believe it when I see it."

They continued to flirt as the evening progressed, their conversations flowing easily from work to personal interests, each revelation bringing them closer. The chemistry between them crackled like electricity, unspoken but undeniable. Every now and then, they would exchange a glance, both of them half-expecting a familiar face from the station to walk through the door.

"You know," Y/N said, breaking the momentary silence, "I keep thinking someone from work is going to walk in and ruin this."

Tim nodded, his expression softening. "Same here. It’s like we can’t escape the job, even on a night like this."

"Well, if they do show up, we’ll just tell them we’re working undercover," she suggested with a mischievous grin.

Tim smirked. "Yeah? And what exactly are we investigating?"

"Restaurant quality," she replied with a wink, making Tim chuckle.

Just as they were starting to relax, the door to the restaurant was thrown open with a loud crash, and the once tranquil atmosphere shattered like glass. A man in a black ski mask stormed in, waving a gun wildly in the air. The room fell into a stunned silence, every patron freezing in fear.

"Everyone stay where you are!" the man shouted, his voice edged with desperation. "Empty your wallets, your purses—now!"

Tim’s eyes sharpened, his instincts kicking in immediately. He looked at Y/N, who had already reached under the table, her hand on her off-duty weapon. Her expression had gone from flirty to deadly serious in an instant. She gave Tim a quick nod, and they both moved with a speed and precision that spoke to years of training and experience.

"Hey!" Tim barked, standing up suddenly. His voice was authoritative, commanding the room. "LAPD! Drop the weapon and get on the ground, now!"

The robber spun around, momentarily thrown off by the unexpected confrontation. His gun wavered, but his desperation outweighed his common sense.

"Don’t move!" he yelled, his voice cracking. But it was too late—Y/N was already moving, her gun drawn and trained on him with deadly accuracy.

"Put the gun down!" Y/N ordered, her voice steady, every bit the seasoned detective. "This doesn’t have to end badly for you."

The man hesitated, his eyes darting between the two officers and the terrified patrons around him. The tension in the room was palpable, everyone holding their breath, waiting for the situation to explode.

Tim slowly approached, his gun also drawn. "You’re outnumbered, and we’re not going to ask again," he warned, his voice low and threatening. "Drop it."

The robber’s resolve broke. His hand shook violently as he looked from Tim to Y/N, realizing he had no way out. With a defeated sigh, he let the gun slip from his fingers and clatter to the floor. Y/N was on him in an instant, kicking the weapon away and securing his wrists with a pair of handcuffs.

Tim kept his gun trained on the man until he was sure the situation was under control. As the adrenaline began to fade, he glanced around the restaurant, noticing the wide-eyed stares of the other patrons. Applause broke out, tentative at first, then growing louder as relief washed over the room.

Y/N looked up at Tim, a grin spreading across her face. "So much for a quiet evening, huh?"

Tim couldn’t help but smile back. "Yeah, I guess we have a talent for finding trouble."

Y/N stood, pulling the cuffed robber to his feet. "Or maybe trouble just finds us."

Before they could share another quip, the sound of police sirens filled the air outside, and moments later, a familiar group of officers burst into the restaurant, weapons drawn, ready to respond.

Nolan was the first through the door, followed by Harper, Aaron, and Lucy. Their faces were a mix of surprise and confusion as they took in the scene—Y/N and Tim standing over a cuffed suspect, both looking more like they were on a night out than responding to a robbery.

"What the hell is going on here?" Harper demanded, her sharp eyes narrowing as she holstered her weapon.

Tim and Y/N exchanged a quick look, trying to come up with a plausible explanation. Y/N opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, Lucy chimed in, her eyes wide with curiosity.

"Were you guys on a date?" Lucy blurted out, the question hanging in the air like a bomb waiting to explode.

Tim felt his face flush, the color rising from his neck to his ears. Y/N seemed equally flustered, though she quickly tried to recover.

"Uh, we were just… grabbing a bite to eat," Y/N said, her voice a little too casual.

"Yeah, just happened to be in the right place at the right time," Tim added, though his tone didn’t quite carry the confidence he hoped for.

Nolan raised an eyebrow, a slow grin spreading across his face. "A bite to eat? In suits and fancy dresses?"

Harper crossed her arms, clearly amused. "Right place, right time, huh? Sounds more like a date to me."

Y/N sighed, knowing they were caught. "Fine, it was a date. But in our defence, we didn’t expect to be playing hero tonight."

"Well, you certainly picked a memorable first date," Aaron remarked with a smirk, looking at the subdued robber. "Though, maybe next time choose a place that’s less likely to get held up."

Lucy’s eyes sparkled with excitement. "I knew it! I knew there was something going on between you two!"

Tim shot her a look, though there was no real heat behind it. "Can we maybe focus on the fact that we just stopped a robbery?"

Harper chuckled, clearly enjoying the situation. "Sure, Bradford. But you know this is going to be all over the station by morning."

Y/N groaned, rubbing her forehead. "Great. Just what I wanted."

Nolan grinned, clapping Tim on the shoulder. "Hey, at least you didn’t have to pay for dinner."

Tim couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head. "Yeah, I guess there’s that, still get to keep the two hundred in the budget."

As their colleagues began to process the scene and take the suspect away, Y/N leaned in close to Tim, her voice low and playful. "So, how about round two? Somewhere a little less public?"

Tim’s eyes lit up with a mix of humour and affection. "Sounds perfect. And maybe this time we can actually finish a meal."

As Tim and Y/N walk out of the restaurant, still riding the adrenaline from the robbery, Tim glances at her with a playful grin. “So, any ideas for our second date? Preferably somewhere without armed robbers?”

Y/N laughs, shaking her head. “Yeah, I think we’ve had enough excitement for one night. How about something a little more low-key? Maybe a quiet dinner at my place? I make a mean lasagna.”

Tim’s eyes light up at the suggestion, and he nods. “That sounds perfect. But just so you know, I’m bringing dessert.”

“Deal,” Y/N replies, smiling warmly. “And this time, let’s keep our badges out of sight.”

They exchange a look filled with anticipation, both eager for a date that will hopefully be free of interruptions—and a chance to really get to know each other.

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#the rookie #the rookie abc #the rookie fic #the rookie fanfic #the rookie imagine #tim bradford #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford fic #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x you #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford x fem!reader

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konigsblog · 1 year

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early mornings with farmer!könig

early mornings with könig include his firm, tight grip on your waist. he doesn't let go, not for a second. his tight grasp doesn't falter despite your squirming. groaning out and scolding you for moving so much, his face and nose buried in your hair — huffing at your sweet, strawberry essence. wearing nothing but your lace panties and bra, his thigh between yours and your legs intertwined with eachother.

it takes a lot to get up, too comfortable in eachothers silence and warmth. the sun peaking over the horizon, flashing through the blinds and allowing some cool air to seep through the gap in the window. the birds sing their melody, and he begins shuffling and moving. you almost think he's getting up — only pulling you closer and closer to himself. “sonnenschein...” his voice raspy, he grumbles out, eyelids slightly open before closing again, feeling as you turn to face him.

pressing your forehead against his, he smiles and chuckles before holding you tighter. his eyes finally crack open to admire your morning beauty, kissing your soft lips and leaning back on his white cushion. large, brute arm hung loosely around your waist, pulling you against him and covering his eyes with his other forearm. “so tired,” he mutters , you giggle. trailing your fingertips over his covered chest, a loose and breathable jumper on, the sleeves rolled up to his forearm.

he sits up, removing his jumper before leaning back down. a groan leaves him as you run your fingers to his abdomen, chuckling and holding your wrist before interlocking his large, calloused hand with yours. the sounds of birds chirping can be heard from outside, trees a bright green as spring approaches summer. the flowers are painted beautiful pastel colours, such as; purple, yellow and white.

chickens making the cluck-cluck sound and the sun a golden colour. the strawberries look ready for picking, perhaps you'll make a strawberry cheesecake or a pie of some sort whilst he works on the farm. his hands finding their way into your hair, noticing you zoning out. “what are you thinking about?” he smiles, seeing you flutter your eyes closed, a small smile curling the corners of your mouth. “nothing, baby.”

it's early, 05:21 to be exact. just twenty-one minutes past five o'clock, you had some time to spare. a knitted blanket at the end of the bed, and a yawn coming from your mouth as you finally wake up. sitting up, you pull your housecoat on, a white wooly robe around yourself, your bra peaking from the top. “coffee or tea?” your voice laced with honey, picking up his glass of water on the bedside table. “coffee, please, schatzi.”

the kettle boils and you do some dishes laying around in the sink, putting them away and adding the some milk before heading back upstairs with the mug in hand. he grabs the handle, smiling at you before you make your way to the bathroom to get ready for the early start of your day. cold water on your face and your breath fresh, a short, lace sundress on your form and some boots to go pick the growing, fresh fruit; the perfect season for them.

he's ready once your basket is full of red and blue berries, placing it on the counter before he heads off and onto the farm to feed the cows and chickens and sheep, calling you out to milk them. you giggle softly at his clinginess in the mornings; embracing warmth and comfort, holding you and snoring quietly behind you.

you did end up making that strawberry cheesecake, his favourite.

#i gor carried away #but i love farmer!könig 🧺🐓#he's clingy and deserving 🙁#orla speaks #konig cod #konig x reader #cod konig #konig mw2 #konig call of duty #könig cod #könig #könig call of duty #könig mw2 #könig x reader #call of duty #call of duty fic

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storiesoflilies · 4 months

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poseidon!suguru was a breathtaking vision of the boundless beauty and splendor of the seas he ruled over.

she was staring at him now, beached upon the shoreline; leaning back lazily in the sun with his ink-black hair carelessly cascading down his bare back. his skin was beautifully bronzed, with water droplets tracing the chiseled ridges of his body as they dripped down onto the sand. his lower half was hidden beneath the teal waves, a strong mauve tail occasionally flicking above the surface.

the god was perfectly serene, like the soft lap of waves gently breaking against an anchored ship. how could this be the very same being whose wrath was known to mercilessly drown hundreds of sailors and ravage seaside towns?

with his eyes closed, he tilted his head in her direction, a long strand of wet hair brushing against the sand. “i sense you, mortal. do not be shy, you may approach me.”

she hesitated, then tepidly tiptoed towards the god of the seas. as she approached, he cracked open an eyelid, a lilac eye peeking out like a glimpse of a pearl in an oyster, taking her in. perhaps it was foolish to have been spying on him, but she couldn’t help it. it wasn’t often that he was known to reveal himself, being an elusive and slippery god at the best of times.

“what are you hiding behind your back there, sweet little thing?” he asked so very sweetly, as soft as sea foam, a beautiful, easy smile gracing his features.

with her lip bitten, and reconsidering all her life choices that led her to this very moment, she kneeled before him and presented her gift as an offering, holding it in outstretched palms. it was a necklace made of seaglass, a mosaic of blues and purples, with white shells dotted between them like gems.

he reached out to touch the necklace, humming happily, his still-wet fingers brushing hers, sending a sensation as if she were incredibly warm and then suddenly doused with a bucket of cold seawater. she was even more surprised when the god placed the necklace over his head and slid it onto his graceful neck.

“what a wonderful gift,” he complimented smoothly, his eyes of purple coral gazing at her with an almost detached sort of adoration. “and what, pray tell, would a loyal follower of the sea wish to ask of me?”

she gulped. “n-nothing at all. only the honor of being in your company, great ruler of the seas.”

the god’s eyes widened playfully, and the waves beat a touch faster against the shore as a mischievous glint sparked deep within his irises. the deep purple fins of his tail broke the surface of the sea as the whole appendage slowly rose out of the water, curling backwards towards his face, his toned abdomen flexing deliciously.

“you seem quite interesting,” he mused, the corner of his lip curling upwards, as the tip of his tail fin touched the edge of her mouth somewhat affectionately. “i think i will visit you more often.”

she didn’t know whether to be scared, exhilarated, or both.

#💭 lily’s imagination runs wild #Poseidon!suguru #geto suguru #getou suguru x reader #geto x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #jjk geto #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x greek mythology #jjk x you #jjk x reader

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grapenamjams · 2 years

Text

König, Soap and Ghost scenarios with a fatally injured reader

(What they would say to you to keep you awake? Idk how to explain it)

Warning: descriptions of blood and injuries

A/N: nothing like a little bit of angst to start off the holiday season, imma right?

…

König

How could there be so much blood coming from such a small person?

From An injury that only happened in a matter of seconds.

His large hands pressing against your side does nothing to stop the crimson from blossoming across your abdomen, soaking your shirt.

“No no no, please no-“ his eyes look away from his shaking hands to your face, catching your eyelids staring to close.

“Eyes open, Liebling!”he cant stop his panic from rising up within him. “Just hold on a bit longer”

You try to fight against a force that tries to pull you away from him. You don’t want to go, you want to keep your eyes open for him but the pull is becoming harder to ignore. Slowly your eyes start to flutter shut.

“Dont-“ könig leans over to your face a hand coming up to your shoulder and neck, feeling for your weak pulse. he places his forehead on yours, whispering “don’t go somewhere I can’t follow, you hear?”

His voice not hiding the fact that his heart had begun to crack inside his chest. “Dont go away”

his whole life and sanity resting on feeling that slight beating under his fingertips.

Soap

John curses when he sees his hand covered in blood after moving your head into his lap.

His heart rate speeds up but he tries to control it as he places his hand back behind your head to apply pressure.

His eyes land back on your face and his heart drops, “Oh no,don’t do that to me. Open your eyes lass”

his eyes move across your face frantically wanting to catch any sight of movement. “I want to see those gorgeous eyes, please sweetheart” his voice takes on a desperate tone.

You manage to open your eyes slightly, a blurry face coming into focus above you.

You focus on the intense blue of his eyes reminding you of a perfect clear summer sky.

“Hey” his voice quivers “there you are” he states when he sees your eyes. A small smile lifts the corners of his lips. his voice comes out soft and gentle while his insides feel like a storm is roaring in his head.

his free hand pushes your hair back from your face so he can take you in. “Keep your eyes open for me, yeah?”

You want to, with your whole being you want to listen to him and stay in the warmth and safety of his arms, looking up into his blue eyes that were able to reassure you through everything

but the darkness around the edges of your minds eye begin to spread and close in on you.

John eyes suddenly become blurry as he pushes your body into him further. “Not like this no. Open you eyes, love please”

Ghost

Each time you breathed it felt like a hot knife was going through your chest. Blinding white light flashing before your eyes as you tried to sit up, the pain in your abdomen flaring in a aggressive retort to your movement.

Everything was clouded over or was that because of the smoke. Nonetheless your eyes set on a dark large figure coming towards you. You can’t even move to defend yourself, the pain becoming unbearable within you.

“Where are you hurt?” You hear a authoritative deep voice say above you. Even with your vision blurred you instantly knew it belonged to ghost.

You didn’t even try to speak only weakly moving your left hand hovering it above your stomach.

Ghost’s tactical eyes can’t see blood anywhere coming from that area. so before doing anything else he lifts up your shirt.

“Fuckin hell” he curses under his breath. A significantly large portion of your abdomen was covered with hues of purple and blue. Ghost knew better than to think it was simply just a bruise.

Internal bleeding. His already racing heart seemed to run to a stop everything slowing down around him as he thought of a plan to get you to a medic.

Everything resumed back into motion when he saw your pale face.

“Hey none of that, keep your eyes on me understood?”

Your fluttering eyes, open for a second looking into his own. Even though they are covered you can still that familiar hint of blue.

“That’s it, just- just stay awake. We can’t have you leaving us” something enters his voice as he looks into your dimming eyes.

You can’t even scream when Simon tries to move you, only a pained groan.

He apologizes quickly. cursing, realizing that he isn’t going to be able to move you without causing more damage to your already broken body.

He yells into his radio telling where his position was for a evac.

When he looks down at you, your head now on his lap, everything becomes silent again.

“No no no, I told you to keep your eyes on me. Dammit” he places a hand on your cheek cradling your head.

“You can’t leave us- you can’t” his voice finally breaks. “You can’t leave me, alright? Come on”

He takes off his glove to place his fingers to you neck, searching for that faint pulse.

“Stay with me, please stay a little longer”

Simon wasn’t one to think about himself, to ask anything for himself. But he would plea, he would make a deal with anyone if it meant you could stay by his side.

…

The angst continues here: Gaz and captain price Rudy & Alejandro

If you don’t want the angst here is pt 2

#headcanons #modern warefare 2 #call of duty #könig mw2 #könig x reader #john soap mactavish #john mactavish x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley #angst #writting

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thevelvetvampyre · 3 months

Text

Bunny to a wolf - Jonathan Crane x patient reader

“So go on bunny. Run for me.”

Warnings: Predator x prey dynamic, noncon, restraints and cuffs, victim blaming, sexual assault mentioned, he’s derogatory, creampie, dacryphilia, general smut and dark adult content

Note: this is basically an intense game of hide and seek (predator x prey kink on 🔝)

──── ──── ────

It had been a few months since the attack, the smell of musk still making your stomach turn and your face cringe.

The memory of how heavy he felt on top of you, the way he heaved against your limp body and his rough grip on your sides that bruised a deep purple the next morning. The only thing that made it more horrific was the fact that he was still out there, probably boasting about the young girl he cuffed and fucked on the side of the road after one too many beers, how tight she was and how she took him so well.

“Are you scared that it may happen again?”

Dr. Crane gazed at you expressionlessly as he held his notebook on his crossed thigh. Exasperated and bored from asking you the same questions after each therapy session, his time with you proving to be non-beneficial as each appointment came around.

“Very.”

Your voice shook as your eyes remained on your lap, unable to look your psychiatrist in the eyes as you felt him grow more irritated with you daily.

“Well- unfortunately there’s not much else I can do.”

He huffed, uncrossing his legs and widening his knees as he clenched his jaw. Pushing up the frames on his nose bridge and glaring at you disgustedly, he linked his fingers on his stomach and furrowed his brows as he analysed you.

The fear that radiated off your skin was hypnotic, capturing his affection with how weak and pathetic you looked. He could smell how scared you were. Of him or the context as to why you sat opposite him, he didn’t care. He felt honoured, blessed even, he got to hear your sweet voice string out sentences of his version of an erotic violence.

Your descriptions of the attack were pornographic to him, the way you sobbed as you went into extensive detail of the pain you felt was so arousing you’d think he was watching you get off. With each tear that rolled down your cheek, a bead of cloudy white leaked out his pulsating tip.

A seething jealousy prickled under his skin as he imagined a filthy, Gotham peasant thrusting himself into you, angry he couldn’t of been present that night to stop him. He often wondered how adorable your wrists looked cuffed together, bruising and bleeding as you tried to escape.

He dreamt of replacing the man’s drunken cock with his experienced shaft, squinting down at you begging him to stop as he felt himself spill his cum into the back of you.

Watching you now, seeing how you were still so hopeless after months of therapy, he felt he’d broken you down enough to take matters into his own hands.

“There is one more thing we could try…”

His words were slow and deliberate, the tone he emitted made it sound like he would present you with a gift, a glimpse of hope in your psychologically devastating situation.

You pull your eyes up to meet his, a small haze had covered your vision and you rapidly bat your eyelids to focus on his face clearly.

“You may be… scared.”

He tilted his head as he pondered what emotive affect his suggestion may cause, confused on how your sensitive emotions may arise during the ‘treatment’.

“But it will work. It has to work.”

His lips pulled into a grin, the corners turning upwards as his eyes flattened into a squint.

Nodding your head agreeably, you’d do anything to rid the trauma from your mind. Desperation was in your blood at this point, your heart thumping in defeat as you’ve accepted you may feel like this forever.

“Anything Dr.Crane… I’ll do anything.”

Cocking a brow up, he clenched his jaw as he stood up and took slow strides to his desk, pulling open the top drawer on the right side of the mahogany wood and looking up at you in amusement.

Reaching down, you heard a clanking metal scrape along the material and his fingers revealed a dangling, swaying set of silver handcuffs.

Your eyes widened and you gulped, the fear of seeing the restraints sending goosebumps onto the back of your neck and flushing your cheeks with a violent red.

He walked around the desk to sit on the tabletop on the opposite side, your body physically reacting as you pushed yourself further into the couch to create as much distance from him as possible.

Watching as he sat on the desk, the grin on his face made you queasy and on edge.

“Come here.”

His voice was low and husky, his eyes following you as you hesitantly stood up and carefully walked over. The knot in your stomach was bubbling with anxiety, twisting in your gut and making you want to gag.

Standing in front of him, he took a deep breath as his eyes fell over your face, basking in how scared you looked and ignoring his primal queue to pounce on you then and there.

“This treatment is called systematic desensitisation. Where aspects of the patients PTSD or trauma is gradually exposed to them in a safe environment- the end goal being…”

He swiftly grabs your wrist mid sentence, causing a gasp to escape your lips.

“The confrontation of the fear allowing the patient to overcome that aspect of their trauma.

He gave you a full smile as he tugged lightly on the free side of the cuff, looking down and humming in approval at the way your wrist fit perfectly under the metal.

“Dr.Crane I-“

A wave of uncertainty and panic rush over you, subconsciously trying to retreat your wrist as it proved to no avail, his fingers holding firmly on the other clasp to keep your wrist propped up.

“Be a brave girl… I’ll admit you if this doesn’t work.”

Your eyes went wide as they began to swell in tears, his threat of Arkham throwing you off guard as he’d never mentioned it before this moment.

“You’ll be a danger to yourself.”

His head tilted as his voice purred a tone of sarcastic, speaking to you like you were a stupid dog who didn’t know how to sit for a treat.

His face became blurred as a tear brimmed on your waterline, the icy blue that stared daggers into you feeling threatening enough over his cold words.

Swiftly pulling your wrist a couple feet to his left, he ducked down and cuffed the other side of the cuffs onto the leg of his desk. You followed behind stumbling with the force of his action dragging you downwards to attach you to the pole of wood.

Sitting down and bringing your knees to your chest, you curled vulnerably as your mind raced with your attempts to calm yourself, trusting Dr.Crane through your palpitating anxiety.

As he glared down at you, his eyes turned dark and an overwhelming sense of panic flooded over you. He looked at you like a piece of meat, wanting the floor to suck you in whole to avoid his hungry gaze.

“Have you ever considered that maybe, you were asking for it?”

Dr.Cranes words shocked you, furrowing your brows and opening your drying mouth to respond to him.

“W-what?”

Pulling your knees closer, your heart pounded in your chest as he pulled a chair in front of you and sat down, spreading his knees as you sat perfectly between them.

“Tell me again, what were you wearing?”

His words were venomous yet clinical and he spat them out onto you, your limbs began to tremble as he suddenly looked a lot bigger with you sitting down.

“That doesn’t have anything to do with-“

You were offended, confused as to why he was suddenly going against the comforting advice he’s been giving you since the first session.

“Oh but it does darling, this is Gotham- remember?”

His face pulled into a look of disgust as his eyes trailed along your frail body, shuddering as his gaze was eating you alive.

“S-skirt- I was wearing a skirt.”

You shamefully looked down and tears started to swell in your eyes, the pain in your chest evident as you started to breath heavy in an attempt to calm yourself.

Groaning and clenching his jaw as he rolled his eyes back and pictured you laying exposed on the side walk in a tiny skirt, he felt his cock thicken under his pants and he licked his bottom lip as he salivated.

“So you were asking for it.”

His eyes remained closed and yours snapped onto him, your jaw falling in shock as your tears violently fell down your cheeks.

“No! I wasn’t!”

He chuckled at the fight in your voice.

“Oh I think you were”

His eyes opened and his head nodded to his words.

“Only whores wear skirts in Gotham.”

You began sobbing and trying to pull your wrist out of the clasp of the metal, panic fuelling you into fight or flight and in this case, running was the only answer.

He chuckled as he watched you intently, enjoying the view of you struggling.

“Calm down…”

His voice was oddly comforting but to no avail, your wrist pulling harder on the desk and it proved to be much heavier than you as you winced.

“I said- calm down.”

He lent his chest forward and grabbed your scalp, pulling your face up with your hair as he remained inches away from your lips.

His eyes fell across your features as you winced in pain to his grasp, admiring how pretty you looked with flushed cheeks and black smudge running along your eyelids.

“Are you going to be a pathetic little victim forever? Or are you going to let Dr.Crane fix for you?”

He growled his words, showing his teeth as he spoke.

All you could do was whimper, causing him to pull back at your hair once more and snap your neck further back.

“Hm?”

You gulped down as you looked at him, his hum now a softer whisper.

“Dr.Crane to fix it for me.”

You mumbled, he let go of your hair and sat back on the chair, you swayed as you lost his grip and he cleared his throat.

You could only look up at him with furrowed brows, your eyes swollen and your scalp stinging. You felt pathetic, chained to your psychiatrists desk as he made you feel responsible for your attack.

Sighing, his eyes fell along your body and you shuffled back, anything to get out of his sight.

“I’m going to fuck you.”

He threw his hands up, stating his sentence as something that was obvious.

“And I’m going to fill your cunt until I’m finished.”

Your eyes widened and your brows knitted, a string of begs fall from your lips as your wrist started pulling violently on the cuffs.

“No! Dr.Crane-please!”

You began to sob, panic possessing you as you watched him chuckle.

He basked in your pleas, rolling his head back with his eyes as he furrowed his brows.

“I’ll do anything! Please let me go.”

You choked on your words, your wrist bone bleeding purple as a bruise began to form.

“That’s it… cry for me.”

The shock of his words left you sobbing louder, your chest heaving and a panic flushing your skin warm. You tried lifting the desk, sneaking your wrist out and opening the clasp manually, you were stuck under his control for as long as he had you chained.

His cock began throbbing as you cried, his months of patience paying off as he felt his veiny dick fill with blood.

He continued to chuckle, amused by your failed attempts of escaping.

“Please- Dr.Crane let me go!”

You extended your last word, sobbing through your mouth and whining like a spoiled child.

“Go?”

His eyebrows cocked up.

“Go where?”

You continued pulling on your wrist, the pain growing unbearable.

“Home- please… I want to go home.”

“Oh no bunny… not yet.”

He began tapping his foot, growing irritated at the sound of the metal pulling aggressively on the wooden leg.

He chuckled louder as you began to scream for help, screaming louder than your lungs could hold as a hot burn filled your organs in urgency.

“There’s no use darling. I’m the only one in my office.”

Your cheeks stung with his nicknames, a heat rushing across your skin as you felt you were knocking on deaths door.

“Oh c’mon…”

His eyes rolled.

“Nobody’s coming to save you. Fuck, no one can even hear you.”

His tone was flat, his words stabbing you deeply as you knew it was true.

His office was huge, basically the small section of the ward in Arkham was completely his. Three rooms, one of which you were currently in, and the reception. Nobody was ever there and you were alone in this apartment sized office, crying and begging your psychiatrist to not fuck you.

“Please… please let me go!”

Your whines grew annoying to him, rolling his eyes and groaning at the sound of your screaming voice.

“You just won’t have it, will you?”

“No-no, no… let me go!”

You shook your head in denial, your words rapid and rushed as your wrist started to bleed.

Sighing in defeat, he leans forward as a smirk grows on his face.

“Let’s play a little game, hm?”

He roughly grasped at your wrist, groaning at the sight of your exposed flesh that your desperately pathetic attempts to escape caused.

Looking up at him through your heavy, tear stained eyes, you frowned and felt your heart thump in fear.

“Are you good at hide and seek?”

His face was dangerously close to yours now, the bright white of his office turning your stomach as this monster was supposed to be your psychiatrist, your saviour.

He reached into his pocket to pull out the key to your cuffs, your eyes going wide and your chest fluttering in relief.

“We’ll play a round. You hide… and I seek.”

His voice was low and merely above a whisper, the undertone of excitement made you breath shakily in fear, unable to respond to his words.

“Please let me go.”

You whispered, his face still inches away from yours.

“I’ll give you exactly what you want.”

You furrowed your brows in confusion, watching as his fingers clasped at the metal and his other hand turned the key to loosen its hold on you.

“So go on bunny. Run for me.”

As soon as you felt the cool air on your bruised wrist, you shot up and began sprinting towards the door.

You stumbled as your legs tried to move faster than you were capable of, sobbing and screaming as your knees moved fast.

You pushed past his office doors and he watched as you shoved yourself through the frame, clenching his jaw, flaring his nostrils and cocking up his brows as he remained bored at your panic.

Running as fast as you could through your exhausted pants, you ran through his reception and attempted to push the door.

He locked it.

Screaming a screeching sound of ‘no’ as your palms slammed against the door, you pulled at the door handle desperately as you sobbed in failure.

Staying seated in his chair, he flipped his wrist and pulled back his suit, watching as his watch ticked to thirty seconds since letting you free.

Standing up slowly before adjusting his tie, he took slow strides out of his office and chuckled as he saw you on the other end of the reception banging as hard as you could, your ongoing screams swelling his thick cock harder and tenting his pants.

“You just don’t listen, do you!”

His voice was loud and echoed through the clinical walls, swinging your head back to look at him as the panic stole the air away and switched it with fear in your lungs.

You heard the clanking of his shoes come closer behind you, bailing on your attempt at his reception door and deciding that maybe you could outrun him.

You were exhausted from the sobbing as your knees became weak and barely let you run, your breathing was erratic and you heaved in desperation.

Although you felt as if you were bolting around his office, his long strides seemingly caught up with your pathetic jog.

Feeling the heat of his arms, he grabbed you firmly and pinned you against the wall. He was bigger, stronger and faster than you and held you up on your tip toes as you struggled beneath him.

You felt his throbbing erection press into your stomach, sobbing out choked cries as his cock felt huge, bulging into your stomach and spreading a heat across your core.

“Is that the best you could do?”

You continued to squirm, avoiding his face as he was merely an inch away from yours.

“No wonder you were so easy. You’re not very good at this, are you bunny?”

He chuckled and pressed you tighter against the wall, grunting as he tried to keep you still.

You were on your tip toes as he held you on his eye level, wincing out in pain as the concrete was violently pushed against you.

Dropping you slightly but keeping you firm in his grasp, he wrapped his arms around you and guided you into the room besides his office. The room with the examination table, limb restraints on the bed and a rack of medical tools that ranged from blunt to flesh teasingly sharp.

Manoeuvring you onto the examination bed, he swiftly chained your wrists to your sides and made his way to your feet. You kicked at them in an attempt to hurt him, his grasp too strong and overpowering as he held you down and chained you up to the heightened stirrups.

“Don’t be so… difficult.”

He grunted as the final clasp tightly restrained your left ankle, your legs open and wide for his viewing.

Huffing out and placing his hands on his hips, he tilted his head as he admired how weak you looked chained up and legs spread, a smirk growing as he turned around and walked to the cupboard behind him.

Your chest heaved heavily and your hands trembled, fear possessing your body as tears violently sobbed down your face. Watching as he turned around with a pair of scissors in hand, your stomach turned and almost brought up breakfast in panic.

Watching as he held one hand to pull up your pyjama pants and used the other to slice the fabric down the center, you cursed yourself for not wearing underwear as the cold, clinical room hit your exposed cunt.

“Such an easy slut… have you learned nothing?”

His face was in disbelief, licking his bottom lip as he placed the scissors down next to him and ducked down to meet your pussy at eye level. He brought both his hands up to pull you apart and growled at the sight of your pink flesh.

“You’re very wet for someone who’s so unwilling.”

Your face flushed red as you cringed, turning your neck to the side to avoid looking at him analysing your dripping cunt.

He stood back up and his eyes turned dark, purring groans as his expression was now possessed with lust and hunger.

As your tears continued to roll down your face, your chest palpitated as you watched him glaring down at you. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he looked like he was about to dig right in to your raw flesh and eat you alive.

After basking in how pathetic and easy you looked, his hands fell to his pants and he unzipped his middle, leaving his belt on as he shimmered his cock out from under his underwear.

“No- please Dr.Crane no!”

Your head rolled and your tears were flowing, the size of him frighting as it sprung out into the cold air onto his palm.

“You’re scaring me- please.”

Your voice remained as whisper as you lacked air in your lungs, feeling his hand grasp round your hip as he moved closer to your exposed cunt.

“That’s the point darling.”

He growled lowly, pressing his tip against your entrance before slowly dragging it up and down your wet slit.

His cock was already warm, a residue of liquid smearing along your opening as he picked up your arousal onto him. Whimpering under his touch, your body attempted to shift but proved useless, his grip too firm on your hips and your wrists heavily bound onto the table.

Pressing his tip against your hole, he sunk his head quickly and you sobbed at the feeling of his cock breaching your tight walls.

“Oh- bunny.”

He panted breathlessly, watching as his inches pressed into your unwilling cunt.

He groaned around your walls, after feeling how tight you were on his tip he impatiently pushed himself down to his base. His balls pressed against the bottom of your asscheeks and you couldn’t help but cry out a sobbed moan at the feeling of him inside you.

“That’s it…”

He pulled his hips out slowly before harshly fucking himself fully once more. Wincing in pain, his mouth fell open and his brows furrowed.

“Take your psychiatrists cock like the whore you are.”

He groaned and you squirmed in pain, his thick, veiny cock being much larger than your attackers.

Repeatedly dragging himself out before roughly fucking his hips into the back of your cervix, your cries became muffled as you laid there limp in acceptance to your situation. Occasionally shedding a tear as you whimper against his thrusts, he strung out praise on how tight you were around him.

“Taking my cock so well.”

He grunted, fastening up his pace as his balls slapped against your ass and filled the room with a squelching noise, his growls filling your ears as his pace remained robotic. Your stomach turned as he spoke, repeating the same words your attacker did, your pussy clenched around him in response and he grunted against the feel of you tightening around him.

Your crying was poetic, softly sobbing as you felt him ruin you. With each sob, his dick hardened and flexed.

“Cry for me bunny… cry- oh yes, just like that.”

Throwing his head back and rolling his eyes, you peered a look at your psychiatrist who was seemingly coming undone around your cunt.

You watched as his face blushed a soft pink and his lips were swelled, his mouth falling open as his eyebrows twitched in rhythm to how his cock flexed. His fingers remained deep in your hips, stinging at the sharpness of his nails in your soft skin.

You bounced off his hips as your skin slapped together, watching how his hair fell around his face as he scrunched it in pleasure.

“M’gonna- fuck- fill this cunt. Have’s you dripping my cum- mhm- all week.”

His words were breathless and whiny, his knees bucking as his thrusts became sloppier.

His cock stuffed you, ploughing into you hard enough to shift you along the examination table.

“Yes… yes- oh fuck bunny your cunt feel so good.”

His voice was trembling at a higher pitch, swinging his neck down to watch himself break you in half.

He whimpered as a circle of white covered his base and his cock glistened in the medical, white lighting in the room.

“M’gonna- fuck!”

His cock flexed and twitched violently inside of you as he met your eyes, watching as you bawl in pain undid the hot knot in his groin as he spilled his cum into the back of you.

It felt like a dam that had cracked, a monstrous amount of liquid seeping out of him as it sprayed along your walls.

Whining and panting as his thrusts fucked you pathetically slow as he came, his face was a deep red and his hair fell over his eyes.

His mouth was open and his brows knitted together into one, the strength of his orgasm overpowering him as he wobbled on his knees.

The liquid heat had filled your pussy, you felt the stickiness rub against you as he continued to drag out his cock and delicately touch the back of your cervix.

After slowing down his thrusts and panting through his whines, he pulled his cock out and it fell out softly in between his thighs.

His eyes remained knitted and tearful as they looked at you limp on the examination table, your shirt wet from tears and your nose runny from the force he fucked you at.

Collecting himself, he pushed his cock back into his suit and slowly removed the shackles around your ankles. Moving slowly and deliberate on your skin in a soft, gentle manner.

Unable to move as you continued to lie in front of him, even once he had freed all your restraints, you were defeated and stared at the floor, unable to meet his eyes as you were now weak and used.

Sighing as he looked down at you, he lowered his gaze and pressed his glasses up on his nose bridge.

Meeting his eyes he was shockingly giving you a sympathetic look, genuine or not you’d never seen him look so kind.

“You can go now, bunny.”

He whispered, bringing the back of his palm up to caress your tear stained cheek.

Huffing out at your lack of movement, he stood back up and left the room.

Your body began convulsing as he walked away, his absence from your side, or in you, feeling colder than you expected.

He turned around at the frame of the door to glance back at you.

“The session next week will be at the same time. Wear something… accessible.”

Your eyes rolled on the bed and you huffed out, a string of his cum tickling your slit as it rolled out of you.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian smut #jonathan crane #smut #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane x you #Batman begins #scarecrow #cillian murphy x fem!reader #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy drabble #cillian murphy x reader

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cameronspecial · 4 months

Note

I’m just restarting my Tennis routine again, so maybe you could make like a fluff about Rafe with Tennis player!reader on how he loves her in her short cute tennis fits and everything. just a cute sweet something😆! thank you

Good Luck Charm

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.7K

Masterlist

The warming weather in the OBX only means one thing for Y/N and Rafe loves what it brings for him. Not only does it mean she comes to the country club with him more, the purple pleated tennis skirt she wears to play drives him crazy. He loves tennis season and he wouldn’t change a thing about it. Before dating her, he never used the club's tennis court. Now, every time he goes to the club with her, they play at least a round on the green rectangles.

“Rafey, are we almost done?” she whines from the cart. He takes note of where the ball lands and turns to her with a smile, “Almost, Baby. I just have three more holes. Think you can handle that?” A small pout falls on her face and her fingers play with the hem of her skirt. She rubs the fabric against each other. “I guess, but it’s getting a little late and if we get lunch before hitting the court, it might be a little hot once we get on the court. I have to practice my backhand.” He can see the worry in her eyes. He knows she doesn’t love playing later in the afternoon because there are a lot of people on the court and the heat causes her to get a little cranky. She grins as he makes his way over to her. His lips meet hers and he sets his club back into the bag. “Okay, then we can head to lunch now. It’s all good, Baby. I’m going to go get the ball and we’ll go.” She jumps with a small clap, causing her tits to bounce. His eyes follow its movements. “Thank you so much. I love you,” she thanks.

———

After lunch, Rafe runs to the car to grab their rackets. The soles of her white Addidas that Rafe bought her slap against the green pavement as she runs over to him. She jumps into his arms with her arms wrapping around his neck. He picks her up by her waist for a second and puts her back down. Once he sets her down, he taps her bum to get her moving toward her side of the court, loving that her short skirt means the tips of his fingers can touch the skin of her bottom. He flicks his chin in her direction, “You start. And if you win, I may have a little something for you.” Her eyes sparkle at the teasing of a surprise and she eagerly nods. She bounces the ball against the floor, throwing it up in the air once her mind is in the right mind frame. Her racket makes contact with the ball and sends it across to him. The game has begun.

———

With the ball hitting just outside of the line, a point is awarded to Y/N and she wins the game. “Yaayy!” she screams, jumping up and down with the racket in her hand. She runs over to Rafe and throws herself into his arms. “Congrats, Baby! You always do,” he felicitates. He peppers kisses all over her face and she giggles. She rests one hand on his shoulder and holds the palm up of her other one, “You owe me a gift, Rafey! You promised.” He chuckles, setting her down on the ground. He fishes into his pocket and pulls something out. “Close your eyes, Baby,” he orders. Her eyes flutter short and she feels him lift her hand into his. A weight falls on her wrist. Excitement fills her as she has an inkling of what it is. She has been hitting at it all year. His lips touch the shell of her ear, “You can open them.” Her eyelids pull apart and the Tiffany Victoria Line Bracelet gleams back at her. “Awww! Thank you, Rafey.” She smears his face with kisses, leaving her lip print all over his face. “What is it for?” His head tilts to the side, “I don’t need an occasion to spoil my girl, but if you really want one, then think of it as a good luck charm. I may not be able to be physically there for all your games, so this can be a reminder of how much I love you and am rooting for you.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader

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leeeeeeeeech · 5 months

Text

Don't Wanna be your Friend Anymore

"B-Beee." I slur, leaning against the ghoul, my vision swimming behind my drooping eyelids. The alcohol kicked in much quicker than I would've liked it too. This game was a dumb idea.

"Told ya," He chuckled, tucking some of my hair behind my ear with a delicate claw. "You cannot hold your liquor fer shit, tootsie pop."

I go to argue with him, but the bile that jumps into my throat beats me to it. I practically launch myself from the couch to stumble towards the bathroom. Beetlejuice cackles, triumphant that he'd won. I come back, sweatier and a couple shots lighter, to Beetlejuice sipping on another bottle of tequila. His hair a subtle purple hue.

"Damn, Beej, you goin' through something?" He jumps, a little startled, before he jerkily shrugs his shoulders, the purple retreating into his hair line, quickly replaced by his signature electric green.

"Nah, I like the burn," He takes another gulp, making a sour face as he set the bottle down. "Augh yep! That's the stuff."

"Come on, what's wrong? You're purple."

His eyes widen, hands jumping to his hair, attempting to cover it up. "N-Nothing's wrong. I just.. ughhh fuck okay okay." He sighs, gritting his teeth. My heart breaks as the purple comes back full force, it even bleeds past his hair. His tie and the white stripes of his suit a faded plum color.

Oh no.

"I miss you." He whispers, his voice strained. I sit next to him on the couch, scooting closer until our legs bump together.

"But I'm right here, Beej." I reach for his hand, but he smacks it away.

"No! No, you're not. Ever since you took that dumbass job you never have time for me!"

"How? We hang out every night."

He shakes his head, red sprouting into the purple, like splotches of blood.

"No. We really don't Y/n. This is the first time we've had an actual conversation in weeks, and it's only happening because we're both drunk!"

My head is swimming from this revelation. Was my new job really affecting him this much? I thought that things were good between us. I... I really fucked up, didn't I?

"I'm sorry, Beetlejuice, why didn't you say anything before?"

He shakes his head. "I didn't want... fuck.. this shit is really somethin' huh?" He gestures to the half empty bottle of tequila. "It really makes ya just say anything!" He laughs, but the joy doesn't reach his eyes, or his hair, or..anywhere really. A mirthless noise.

"Beej, you can be honest, I'm sorry we haven't hung out like we used to. I've been a terrible friend to you."

Beetlejuice mutters something angrily under his breath, crossing his arms and turning away from me. "What?" I lean towards him, grabbing a hold of his shoulder to balance myself.

"I don't want to be your friend." He says, punctuating each word with a pained hiss. I feel like complete shit. I took him for granted. "Beej, I'm so sorry! I wish I knew how to make all this better."

He's quiet for a while, seemingly contemplating, his hair changes from color to color. Red, blue, purple, orange, yellow....pink. I continue to watch in silence as he broods. A soft pink remains at the root of his hair as it fades through the entire rainbow. He pauses for a moment, noticing that I hadn't said anything to him. His eyes meet mine, the pink crawling through his hair slowly, the purple sliding into the forefront of his head. His gaze flickered down to my lips for a beat.

"Beetlejuice, I know I messed up, and if you don't want me-"

"Shut up for a second."

I clamp my mouth shut, watching him carefully as he scoots closer to me.

"I-"

He cuts himself off, turning away from me with a scoff. I hear him grumble, "Fuck it." but before I can comment on it at all, his hands are cupping my face, and his lips are pressed up against mine. My eyes fluttered closed as he presses into me, my hands wandering up into his hair to pull on the ever-changing strands. He groans into the kiss, the vibrations reverberating throughout me. It makes me shiver

He leans into me further, more hands groping, pinching, pulling. His tongue, cold and wet pressing against my teeth. His heavy breaths, and little groans are too much for me to handle. I push him off, panting and wiping at the slobbery residue of the kiss. Beetlejuice looks upset for a moment, but his eyes flick to my lips again and his hair goes bubblegum pink, strands of red settling in random patches. it makes him look like cinnamon candy.

"Bee-" He holds up a hand to my mouth, shushing me. He runs his free hand through his hair, a few mold spores falling out as he did so.

"Listen, Y/n, I.. I like you. A lot. Anytime I think about you and me it's like my heart's havin' an orgasm." His confession is rushed and stumbled through, but I quit listening to him once his hair started glowing. The pink shining so bright that it cast a soft light throughout the living room. I smiled at all my things being in Beej's light. I interrupt his ramble by kissing the hand that covered my mouth. He flinched, stopping mid sentence.

"You give my heart orgasms too, Beej." I laugh, holding on to his hand with both of mine. His shock quickly fades, replaced with that flirty cockiness that I've come to love.

"I bet I can make you feel like that all over~"

I lean forward into his space, grinning as his cheeks darken at my being so close. Liquid courage or love, I didn't care. I was going to see my ghoul pink for as long as possible.

"Let's test it."

(lil note): this is also on ao3!

#beetlejuice x reader #beetlejuice #beetlejuice x y/n #beetlejuice the musical #my writing #leech writes

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becauseicantthinkwritings · 5 months

Text

To Love and To Cherish (I)

Part 9 of my Accidentally on Purpose Series!

Warnings: Smut (18+), CNC Play, masturbation (f), practice of future CNC play.

A/N: Hoping to get To love and to cherish (II) out soon.

Something’s shifted.

It’s intoxicating being in the same room with him, you can barely think straight in his presence.

When he wakes up in the morning, to get dressed for work, you wake too, and you watch him.

It’s training day, and he has to go in extra early, but the time doesn’t stop you, you wake, and you watch him quietly, as he steps out of the shower with his torso bare, delicious snake tattoo on display for you.

He puts on a show for you, one towel snug around his hips and another smaller one for his hair. You don’t hesitate, propping your body on two pillows, tossing the covers off.

He pauses, glancing in the mirror to make eye contact with you when he sees the movement.

You hold his gaze, tugging your dress up to expose your lower half to the open air.

His eyes are dangerous, warning you not to push your luck.

But you want his anger, you want his rage, you want his darkness.

You slip your hand between your legs.

His throat bobs as he swallows, and after a moment, he resumes his routine while you massage your clit gently behind him.

You watch him easily, delicate fingers roaming over your swollen bud, gentle, featherlight, content to observe him and nothing more.

Your body burns, begging you to go faster to get yourself off, but you know, just like he knows, that it’s not going to happen until he can.

You watch him slide his boxers on, then his socks, pants next, and you hum delightfully at the way he looks, messy, with his white shirt open exposing a part of his chest and abdomen.

You want to lick the trail of hair below his navel, your fingers speeding up.

When you whine a second time, he turns his head, looking at you from the corner of his eye as you stare at him in the reflection of the floor length mirror.

You know what it means, you’re taking too many liberties, and you stop the motion of your fingers automatically.

He faces forward again, buttoning his shirt slowly.

When he’s done with that, he steps into his closet for a tie. He brings back two options, leaning against the bed as he holds them out for you. One is a dark mauve, and the other a slate grey, you tilt your head, observing the colour of his pants before you raise your hand, slick with the arousal from your cunt, and run your fingers on the back of the purple tie.

He drops the other tie on the bed beside you, sliding the tie you selected around his neck. Your fingers glide right back between your legs, tormenting your body for his pleasure.

He steps away again, grabs cufflinks and a watch, drops them on the bed and presents one wrist for your assistance.

You look him right in the eye when you reach for a cufflink, your fingers sticky with your arousal. Pressing them into his sleeve. They’re silver, and as you squint in the early hours of the morning, you notice a snake engraved onto it.

You look up at him, breath halting in your chest at his expression, his lips curled into a gentle smile, his eyes so dark you swear they take up all the light in the room.

You look down, reaching for the other cufflink, and then his watch.

His hands are… gorgeous, and you turn his palm upward so that you can press your cheek against it. A blissful sigh leaves your lips, his rough palm on your cheek and you delight in how whole you feel, your fingers going right back to that spot that craves him so desperately.

“Tell me something else that you know about me.” You beg, looking up at him.

His eyelids flutter for a moment.

“I've seen your porn preferences. I know what you touch yourself to the most.” Billy answers.

Your mouth parts in shock, but your fingers don't stop their glide on your clit, eager for the information.

When he reads your reaction, and determines it's not one of real fear, he decides to take it further.

He pulls his hand from your cheek, pushing you back until you hit the bed with a gasp, he hovers over you ominously, and the same hand that was just cupping your cheek gently, rises to grip your jaw firmly.

“You like hearing that? I know what dirty things you look at while you play with that little cunt. I know what no one else knows about you, I've read the porn you get wet to. Does that turn you on?”

You whine, fingers moving faster on your clit as you nod.

He releases your jaw, reaching down, he grabs your wrist to pull your fingers from between your thighs.

“Enough.” He growls lowly, and you feel a shiver of bliss traverse your spine.

After a few moments, you come to your senses just a little, looking up at him with desperate eyes.

You pant, watching his hands release your wrist, his fingers trailing down your forearm, and up to your shoulder.

He slips his fingers under the strap of your dress, sliding it down your shoulder, tugging at it, until your breast is almost exposed but not yet.

His hand presses to your shoulder next, thumb roving over the exposed skin.

“Do you like… bondage?” He whispers, the tips of his fingers dragging gently on your skin.

You shiver, tilting your head to the side to let his fingers explore you. You nod subtly.

His hand wraps around your throat.

“Words.”

“Yes, sir,” you whisper in a rush, “I like the idea of being tied up.”

“Why?” He pries.

“Helpless.” You stutter out, a little ashamed.

His eyes are dark, overwhelming in a way that makes you feel like you've been holding your breath. Your vision swims, hypnotized by him.

His mouth curves up into a devious smile.

“You wanna be helpless for your husband?”

Your body throbs as you whisper your affirmative.

Then he blinks, and the darkness in his eyes recede, he leans down, a quick kiss to your lips.

“Three more days.” He promises, before he straightens his body, leaving you in the next moment, dishevelled, and barely breathing.

He pulls your hands behind your back, keeping them locked together in his grip while he pushes your shoulder, forcing you to bend over his desk until your cheek presses against the cool wood.

You stay there for a second, trying to breathe through your arousal, your panties already ruined from a few minutes ago when he was asking your permission to do this.

“How was that?” He asks softly, loosening his grip on your wrists.

You make a little shake of your head.

“Harder.” You whisper.

“Sure?” He checks.

“Please.”

He grips your wrists once more, pulling you up, his other hand gripping the back of your hair to manipulate your body better, walks you over to his floor length windows, his movements a little more forceful, and doesn’t stop until your cheek is pressed securely to it.

“Better?” He asks.

“Uh-huh,” You mewl, cheekbone aching a little with the pressure, “Hit the glass.”

His hand slips from your hair, he spins you around, so easily manhandling you in a way that has your legs wobbling while you try to keep up.

You’re looking right into his eyes when his palm slams against the glass right beside your head. It makes a deep sound, you can feel the vibration of it against the glass. It makes you press your thighs together tightly in response, something tugging harshly inside of you.

He leans in, a stern expression on his face as he gets close.

“Did my little plaything like that?”

You close your eyes, nodding your head frantically.

“Two days.” He promises, a soft kiss pressed to your lips.

“One more day.” He whispers into your ear, standing behind you, he pulls your hair away so that he can place soft kisses on the nape of your neck.

You giggle, tilting your neck to give him better access.

“Someone is going to see us.” You warn him, as you stand in Anvil's rooftop restaurant, looking out the window at the skyline.

“I love how you think that would stop me.” He teases between kisses, “Anyway, what's one more day? I'm sure I'm well enough now. We can go back to my office and get rid of all this… frustration.”

You glance around to make sure that no one’s around, the late time of day helps with that.

“I wanna see a signed note from your doctor before you’re allowed to do anything. Besides,” You turn, wrapping your hands around his neck, watching his smile as he looks at you, “Wouldn’t it be a little sad if we waited this long, only for our first time to be in your office?”

“Oh, suddenly you don’t like my office? I can recall a lot of times you begged for me there.”

You scoff in amusement.

“I’m just saying, we should make the next time special.”

“It’s going to be.” He promises, with no elaboration.

His face takes on a serious expression, glancing away for a moment, deep in thought. You study him, waiting patiently for what you can see he’s building up the courage to say.

“Do you trust me?” He asks, softly.

Of course you did, more than anything, Billy knew you in a way that no one else did, he understood you, on levels that no other person could. Of course you trusted him.

Whether you should, was a different debate.

“I trust you.” You confirm.

“Sure? You know, we don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with.”

“I know. I promise you I know that.”

“Mrs. Russo?” The barista interrupts, “Your order is ready.”

“I love when people call you that.” Billy murmurs when you pull your hands from around his neck to step away.

You loved it too.

Billy holds your body tightly to his as you finish up lunch. His arms are wound around you as you lean against him.

You sigh, tucked against his body, feeling so safe and cared for, his arm resting easily on your shoulder, your eyes slip shut to help you relax.

“So, I kind of have a question for you.” Billy hums, his voice close to your ear.

“Hmm?” You ask, reaching up to link your hand with his.

“Can I have your wedding ring back?”

Your eyes spring open.

Before you can even ask for clarification, he’s speaking again.

“Only temporarily, I want to add something to it.” He explains.

You raise your other hand, examining the ring, you feel him press closer.

“It’s beautiful on your hand.” He murmurs.

You smile, because you know he can’t see it, you let your emotions show on your face. His left hand moves, reaching so that your fingers can interlock. Your rings glitter together beside each other.

You love the way they look, the little star etchings, the small sapphires, the way your rings look like extensions of each other.

“You can’t leave my finger bare, I’ll miss the ring too much.”

He makes a little chuckle.

“So I should have bought a replacement?”

“Not necessarily, you just have to put something there to keep the spot warm- like a rubber band or something.”

“I am not gonna wrap some shitty rubber band around your pretty finger.”

Glee fills you.

“So what then?”

“Umm..” He starts, pulling his hands away so that he can check his pockets for something, he glances at his desk, searching for ideas, before he tugs a little pocket knife out of his pants pocket and then tugs the small pocket square out of the breast pocket of his jacket that’s draped over the arm of the couch.

You sit up, watching him as he carefully slides the knife through the edge of the fabric and raises a small strip of silk cloth for you to see.

Your eyebrows lift in amusement, and you put your hand in his when he asks. His fingers wrap around the ring and you curl your fingers for a second, thinking about it for a moment, before relaxing.

He slips the ring from your finger so easily that you hate it. He makes it better by tying the strip of silk around your finger comfortably and cutting off the excess fabric.

It doesn't feel the same, your finger uncomfortably bare. You curl your hand into a fist, trying to force your familiarity.

He's studying you raptly when you look up at him, his head is tilted to the side in observation.

“What?” You ask quietly.

He shakes his head, a smile curling on his lips.

“I'm just admiring how sad you look without my ring.”

You give him a look of annoyance.

He grins.

“Come here.” He says, reaching for you, gripping your hips and tugging you onto his lap. You adjust your body accordingly so that you straddle his hips.

He grips the back of your head, pulling you down so that your lips meet.

He groans into your mouth, and you hum in response, your hands cupping his rough cheeks.

“My wife.” He hums between kisses, and you smile, deepening your kiss, Feeling his arms wrap tighter around you.

Your stomach tingles, hearing him say those words, you nod into your kiss, trying to tell him that yes, you were his wife, without having to say it.

More and more you were coming to understand how much you loved him, that every time you checked, you found it to be deeper than before.

He pulls back a little but you're not having it, kissing him harder, slipping your tongue past his lips.

Billy groans, feeling your urgency, responding to it with the tightening of his grip. He slides his hands over your body, admiring how good you feel above him.

He's hard, you can feel it, snug between your thighs and you don't hesitate to roll your hips against him.

He stiffens, gripping your hips to stop you. He laughs in the breath between kisses.

“Stop. Or I'll strip you bare and fuck you right here.”

Your fingers wrap around the knot of his tie, pulling him closer.

“Maybe your office wouldn't be so bad.”

“For what I have planned for you, I'll need more than an office.” He counters.

You sigh, releasing his tie and sliding off his lap. He lets you go easily, though his fingers still reach for you, twitching to hold himself back.

“Your loss.” You tease.

“Not at all, I'll make up for it later.” He responds, voice calm and casual.

You raise your eyebrows curiously.

“What exactly are you planning?”

He smirks in amusement.

“Just a little payback, Mrs. Russo, don't worry your pretty head.”

You’re holding his hand when you leave the building, but you draw up short when instead of one car waiting for you, there are two.

There’s a woman standing beside one car, a clipboard, or maybe a binder in hand. She stands straight, her bright red hair catching on the wind.

Billy says your name, and you turn to him curiously.

His eyes are on you, and he tilts his head, raising a hand to cup your cheek.

“You’re going to have to trust me now.” He says, his voice a little loud to compete with the din of New York.

You nod, trying to tell him that you understand without having to say it.

“Will I see you soon?” You ask, catching on to the idea that you'd be going to a different place than he was.

He smiles, nodding his head and leaning in to kiss the top of your head. As he lets you go, you reach for him, gripping his arm, a little afraid to be without him.

“Tell me something.” You plead, looking up at him.

He smiles in understanding, leaning down to press his lips to your ear.

“Sometimes, when you thought you were talking to Dominic, you were actually talking to me.”

Your mouth drops open in surprise, your body going warm in the cold, New York air.

You let out a soft sigh, squinting down at the open binder in your hands.

The redhead from earlier, had introduced herself as Sam, eager to get you into the car so that you could begin your journey to wherever you were going. She wouldn’t tell you, only giving you a soft smile before informing you that it was kind of a surprise.

She’d opened the binder, explaining that she planned special events and that Billy had contacted her for something very special. You assumed, with the way she was speaking, that she thought this was something of a date, and not what you guessed it really was- Billy’s attempt at taking six weeks’ worth of sexual frustration out on you.

The binder itself had contained pictures of a variety of different things. From dresses to food to flowers, she wanted an idea of the things you really liked.

You were stuck on dresses currently, flipping through, searching for something that really stood out. Sam had explained that these were already narrowed down by Billy, and whichever you chose would come along with you.

You were still curious about where you could possibly be going.

There was an obvious theme to the dresses, ball gown-esque in their design, not over the top because he knew you didn’t like that, but nothing overly simple as well. Some were covered in rhinestones, some were layered with delicate tulle fabrics, one had a keyhole neckline that could be seen as very inappropriate in a formal setting.

You scanned the pages, knowing that whatever dress you picked would most likely be torn from you before the night was over, and if you picked the right one- for example one with a high slit- you may have the opportunity to wear it just a little longer than the others.

When your eyes settle on one of the more shimmery materials, you blink, tilting your head. It wasn’t too extravagant, and yet something about the way the fabric looked kept drawing your eyes. The best part was the high slit, that you could assume would come up to the middle of your thigh, which would make it easier for you to run if necessary.

“This one.” You angle the book so that Sam can see. She nods eagerly, reassuring you of your selection.

“That one can be off shoulder, or with straps. What are you feeling?”

You hum, deep in thought for a moment.

“Off shoulder.” You decide, smiling at the thought of it.

“And, I also want something else, but you can’t ask any follow up questions.”

She tilts her head, and you explain it to her.

Your mouth drops open when the car comes to a stop, and there’s a jet waiting for you.

“Where on earth am I going?” You ask in disbelief, tuning to Sam in shock.

She smiles apologetically, shakes her head.

“You’re supposed to trust him, he said.”

Billy could be really outrageous at times.

The pilot introduces himself, and when you ask him about the plane’s destination, he angles his body to Sam, who simply shrugs.

By now, it’s well into the night, and as the plane takes off, the stewardess provides options for your dinner.

Billy’s methodology was madness, and you, equally mad for going along with it. Here you were, on a plane with people you didn’t know, going to an unknown place and all you had to go on was your trust in him, the man who’d trapped you in a marriage.

You didn’t even know where your passport was- how did you even get this far in the first place? You had no clothes, nothing to change into, not even a toothbrush-

Your thinking halts when Sam presents a small leather bag to you. You look up at her, taking it into your hands, the hum of the engine loud in your ears.

You look down, unzipping the top and peering inside.

Billy Russo, your magnificent husband, had packed you a bag of essentials.

You knew it was him, who else would know all your product preferences, you even find a pair of silk pyjamas, with your initials embroidered onto the breast pocket.

There was no one like him, and you knew, deep down, there’d never be another.

You smile to yourself, wanting to spill over with words of adoration, aching to grab the next person you could find and tell them how much you loved your husband.

“There's a bedroom in the back,” Sam says, “You can sleep there, we should arrive in the morning.”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise that the flight would be that long.

You study Sam for a moment, she gives you a shy smile, and you roll your eyes, already knowing that she wasn't going to tell you where you were going.

Dinner is delicious, beans, potatoes, chicken, and you really enjoy it, though you find yourself missing the warmth of your husband at your side. You realise that you've been around him constantly for a long time, and although you're still on his plane with his staff, you've never been physically farther since you woke up married to him.

Halfway through dinner, you get a text from him. You smile as you open the message, seeing that it's just a single photo of a document clearing him for work and physical activity as well.

Your mind goes wild with your imagination of what you're going to get up to, so of course, after you've settled into bed later, you unbutton the shirt of your pyjama top a little to send him a tasteful photo of your chest, your embroidered initials just barely covering your nipple.

You see the read receipt activate and you grin, watching him begin typing and stop repeatedly for five minutes before a message actually comes though.

I was in a handover meeting with Frank when I opened that. I groaned out loud and he kicked me out of his office.

You giggle.

I hope you're happy, he adds.

Your only response is to send him another picture, this time, you have your breasts on full display for him.

You're in so much trouble, is his only reply.

You wake when there’s a knock on the door.

“Yeah?” You ask, voice still heavy with sleep.

“Sorry to wake you,” She says through the door, “But you should get dressed, we’re landing soon.”

You glance at your phone to check the time, 10 am. You squint in confusion, knowing that you hadn’t been flying for that long.

You manage to pull yourself up, with a little grumble and get showered and dressed, Billy having supplied another item of clothing- a sundress- at the bottom of the bag.

You're seated and buckled in when the plane lands, and on the way out, the stewardess presents you with a cup of coffee and a breakfast bagel.

You take a look at your surroundings, studying the airplane hangar that you'd docked into, looking for any flags or language differences.

All the signs are in English, but you don't see any flags. You don't have a chance to look outside, being guided into an awaiting limo.

When you get settled, another text comes in.

Stop trying to figure out where you are, just go with it.

You roll your eyes in mild annoyance.

Did you just roll your eyes at me?

You blink in shock, raising your head and looking around. Sam pays you no mind as she studies the area outside while the limo drives. You figure there must be a concealed camera somewhere, allowing him to look at you.

Creep, you think affectionately.

Another message comes in, with an attached picture that makes your eyes widen and your core heat up.

It's a photo of his lap, fully clothed, Except he's gripping his cock through the fabric tight enough that you can see how hard he is.

You grit your teeth. Billy was such a fucking tease.

I'm going to have to apologize to that poor pussy for how hard she's about to be punished.

You clench, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth to bite down, feeling the pain center you.

You take a moment, turning your phone down to let the emotions run through you. Your heart was pounding in your chest you could feel the buzz of anticipation in your veins. Soon he'd have you, manipulate you into submission, make you his very own plaything.

You could barely contain yourself, desperate for it, the thoughts of riding his cock till you couldn't breathe, the feeling of his hands on your skin, the way his tongue knew exactly how to glide across your clit.

You smile, turning your phone over, sending a message to him, a challenge.

You'll have to catch me first.

The shift in timezones makes you a little groggy, and you’re almost half asleep when you see it.

You blink, trying to wrap your head around what you're seeing through the window of the limousine.

With tall, pointed spires, soft beige brick, the castle stands at the centre of a large piece of land, extending out as far as you can see.

It's not obscenely large, a flair of something ancient and baroque in its style, spanning the size of maybe a football field, or perhaps, a little smaller.

However dark the castle seems, is offset by the brilliance of the surrounding gardens.

And it takes you, it spins your mind, weaves intricate webs of fantasy and lust, makes you consider, just for a moment, the things Billy would do with you here, the ways it could make you feel.

“Gorgeous.” You hum, deep in your own wonder.

“It is.” Sam agrees, “When Mister Russo told me he'd gotten it all to himself for a week- well it blew my mind. This castle is super exclusive, they only rent a few rooms, to get the entire place, I can't even imagine.”

You want to stop her so many times. He'd rented the entire place? For a whole week?

Your cunt was definitely in trouble.

“Hmmm.” Is the only thing you can say, heart tugging in your chest at the implications, stomach fluttering in excitement.

There's a small welcoming party at the entrance door where the car comes to a stop on a circular driveway. You step out first, smiling politely and shaking hands with the people that introduce themselves. There's a house manager and groundskeeper and so many titles get tossed your way that you almost forget them all.

The tour of the castle is thankfully brief, because despite your night of sleep, the travel has made you exhausted. You smile politely, amazed at the beautiful interior, eager to explore it more on your own time later. You do take note of the dining room, with its large windows and the throne room that holds an impressive chandelier. You try to remember one important detail about each room as they begin to blur together.

Your room is on the second floor, a magnificently large space with an obscenely decorated four poster bed. It's gorgeous with intricate wooden carvings on the walls and on the columns of the bed.

You feel like royalty when you flop onto the bed, simmering with excitement as you let the effect of your surroundings sink in.

Your stomach flutters, you gaze up at the soft pink canopy, studying the intricate designs on the ceiling, letting the looping patterns calm you.

As you relax, sleep takes over, the fatigues of travel finally taking its toll.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #the punisher #billy russo smut #dark!billy russo #my writings #accidentally on purpose #accidentally on purpose married billy #To love and to cherish

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