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#getting my eyes nose eyebrows and mouth removed
rileyslibrary · 9 months
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You burst into the office and slam the door behind you. Ghost jumps from his seat and looks up from the paperwork he’s been filling out. His eyes widen as you sprint towards him.
“What the f-”
“Just play along,” you interject, dragging a chair and plopping down. You grab two sheets of paper from the pile next to him and snatch the first pen within reach.
He keeps staring at you dumbfounded before managing to utter something.
“Can you at least-”
“Nope,” you cut him off while focusing on the papers and nibbling on the pen. “No, can’t do. You need to trust me on this one.”
“Define what ‘this one’ is.” He demands.
“Shhhh,” you hush him, waving your hand dismissively and glancing over your shoulder at the door. “He’s coming.”
“Who’s com-”
The door swings open, and footsteps approach. They settle beside you, and a hand slams on the desk. Ghost looks at the hand, then upward.
“Captain,” he says. “What brings you in-”
“For the love of everything you hold dear, Simon, you better not be involved in any of this,” Price warns. He slams his hand on the desk again and looks at you. “Why were you running away from me?” He asks.
You stare at him with furrowed eyebrows before removing the pen from your mouth.
“I wasn’t running away from you, sir,” you reply, pointing the pen at Ghost. “I was late for my meeting with the lieutenant.”
Price turns towards Ghost, seeking for an appropriate answer. The lieutenant sits up straight on his chair, clasps his hands together and motions with his head towards you.
“Very punctual, this one.” He says.
“Cut the crap, Simon,” Price orders and turns to you. “What were you doing inside Bravo Unit’s barracks last night?”
“Bravo Unit has barracks?” You ask Ghost. He shoots you a side-eye and raises one eyebrow.
“Stop playing dump and answer the question,” Price warns and points at Ghost. “And don’t look at him—he’s not covering for you this time.”
“How about you start from the beginning, boss,” Ghost interjects. “What happened?”
“Someone broke into Bravo Unit’s barracks last night and stole every inch of toilet paper they had,” Price says, looking at you, then turning to Ghost. “And not just toilet paper, mind you! Kitchen rolls and tissues are gone as well.”
“Tsk tsk tsk,” Ghost murmurs, shaking his head. “Such an inconvenience.”
“Inconvenience, Simon?” Price whispers, leaning on the desk. “The entirety of Bravo Unit had to wipe their ass with parchment paper this morning.”
Ghost brings his hand to his face and pinches the bridge of his nose. He lowers his head and takes deep, laboured breaths. Price is already fuming, so you decide to intervene.
“I was never inside Bravo Unit’s barracks, sir,” You state. “I just happened to walk through it once.”
“Oh, I see, I see—you walked through it once,” Price repeats, nodding. He removes something from his pocket and slams it on the desk.
“The instigator left this behind,” he states, looking back and forth between the two of you.
You and Ghost look at the garment on the desk—it’s a skull balaclava that once belonged to the lieutenant. He gave it to you last Winter since your ears and nose tend to get cold during patrol.
“Now,” Price states, “would you care to brief me on who this belongs to?”
“Hm,” you murmur, setting the pen and papers on the desk. You pick up the mask and start examining it. You look at Ghost, who stares at the mask with his eyeballs threatening to pop out of his face. He shoots you a deathly stare, and you redirect your attention to Price.
“That looks like it must be the lieutenant’s,” you reply, lifting the balaclava next to Ghost’s masked face. “With the skull and all—it’s a perfect match, actually.”
You both turn to Ghost, whose expression has transformed from utter disbelief to an inexplicable calmness.
“Indeed, that looks exactly like the one I lost,” Ghost confirms, taking the mask from you.
“Is it now?” Price asks in a high-pitched voice, tilting his head to the side. “Do me a favour and smell it for me, Riley.”
Ghost does exactly as he’s told. He brings the mask close to his nose, sniffs it, and nods. “Yup,” he confirms. “Smells exactly like me, too.”
Price sighs, takes a bottle from the pocket of his cargo pants and slams it on the desk. “So you want me to believe you use ‘Magnolia Blossom with Moroccan oil’ as a shampoo?” he asks.
“I’ve got dry hair.” Ghost shrugs.
“You should try coconut oil instead,” you suggest to Ghost, “it’s cheaper.”
Price kicks the chair next to you, and you both turn to look at him. He presses his lips together, and a red flush creeps on his neck, threatening to reach his head. He opens his mouth to say something, but you stop him.
“Why did you go through peoples’ stuff without their permission, sir?”
“Oh, I wasn’t going through anyone’s stuff,” Price explains. “You just were dumb enough to ditch the balaclava right behind the barracks. The detection dog picked up on the smell and led us to your stuff—it was a perfect match, just like you said.”
“You had sniffer dogs involved in this?” Ghost asks.
“I had to.” Price replies. “Pair the parchment paper with a day full of training, and Bravo Unit developed the worst rash they had since wearing diapers.”
A chuckle escapes Ghost, and he tries to silence it with his hand. He takes quick gasps of air, and you try to retain your laughter, too.
“Please tell me you’re not laughing!” Price shouts.
“No, boss,” Ghost says and wipes his tears, “It’s just so-”
“-sad,” you say and wipe your eyes as well. “It’s so sad.”
Price looks at you, then at the lieutenant. Now defeated, he sighs and throws his head back, shutting his eyes.
“I’m done with both of you.” He says, lifting his arms and dropping them to his sides. “I expect all toilet papers to be returned today. And as for you, you are responsible for cleaning Bravo’s toilets for the entire month.”
“For the whole month?!” You shout and wince at the idea.
“Be glad I didn’t make you wipe their asses as well.” He shouts as he walks to the door and slams it behind him.
Ghost recovers from the laugh and directs his attention to you. He tries to be serious but his teary eyes betray him.
“That was a hazardous operation you did back there,” he says.
“I didn’t do anything.” You reply, still vouching for your innocence. “But whoever did it taught Bravo Unit not to mess with our thermostats again.”
Ghost shakes his head. “I just happened to walk through the barracks once,” he says, repeating your earlier statement. “What were you thinking? Who walks through barracks?”
“I don’t know,” you reply, shrugging. “Ghosts would be my guess.”
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starkeyisthelastname · 3 months
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can you plzzzz write more pornstar!rafe i love him !!
pornstar!rafe is a different breed of dirty 😿
Pornstar!Rafe who had no idea what he was doing at the door of your apartment a few weeks after the scene you had shot together. He had fucked a lot of women, on and off camera. Never did he once go back for seconds, he just wasn’t that type of man. Maybe it was perverted of him to pay your agent to give him your address, but nonetheless it worked for him as he knew it would. He kept thinking about you, and he didn’t know why. Sure he fucked a lot of pretty girls, but something about you made him want more.
You looked up in surprise when you heard a late-night knock on the door, wondering who could be visiting at such an hour. Due to your line of work, you didn't have many friends or family, so unexpected visitors were a rarity. Slowly getting up, you made your way to the door and looked out the peephole. “Rafe?” You whispered to yourself, feeling your stomach drop. How did he know where you lived? What was he doing here? It made you nervous but in such a curious way.
As you opened your door, you immediately noticed his towering figure. His piercing blue eyes met yours, drawing you in. It had slipped your mind just how imposing his height was, even when dressed casually. A baseball cap concealed his messy blonde mullet, while a simple t-shirt and loose-fitting jeans accentuated his broad physique. You saw the familiar smirk come to his face, making your pussy flutter and forget any concerns you had on why he was there in the first place.
“Keep your fuckin legs up.” Rafe spat, a head full of dirty blonde hair in between your spread thighs as he ate your pussy like a starved dirty man.
It had been all of 15 minutes and this man already had you on the brink of an orgasm by just his tongue. The way his head moved back and forth, smearing your sweet and sticky juices across his thick mustache, had you gasping while you tried to hold your legs back. Your body was becoming limp though, his pert nose rubbing against your swollen clit as his tongue rapidly licked through your soaked folds.
One hand that was hooked on the underside of your thigh, fell as your stomach tightened and eyes started rolling back. You felt two thick digits slide into your creamy hole, pushing themselves to hit your G-spot. “O-oh fuck…Rafe.” You mumbled, eyebrows squeezing together as your eyes came back to watch him.
“Greedy fuckin hole likes gettin' finger fucked, huh?” His words were dirty, only making you clench around them as he shot you that cocky smirk.
You nodded, mouth falling open as he drilled them in and out of your leaking cunt with brutal force. You wondered if he would be just as nasty off camera, but never thought you'd see him again unless you filmed another scene together. (At least you were hoping you two would.) He was proving to you that his porn acting was who he was as a person, and he was just as filthy as he was on camera.
That smirk faded as you refused to answer him, his blue eyes darkening into something a little more sinister. Abruptly pulling his fingers out, he shoved them inside your open mouth, pushing them deep until you gagged. His other hand came to your poor pussy, slapping it roughly as you squealed around his digits at the hard smack. It wasn't until he shoved three fingers in without warning that you realized he was not playing.
“Not a big fan of repeating myself. Yeah, slut? So I suggest you answer my fuckin question.” His voice low as he stood up to lean over you. He removed his fingers from your mouth, wrapping a hand around your throat to squeeze.
His left hand moved inside you at a rapid pace, repeatedly bruising your sweet spot as he choked a reply out of you. This man was on a whole other type of level, and you knew you couldn’t hold back any longer. “Please… k-keep fingering me. D-don’t stop. Gonna cum so hard.” Your voice strained as he applied pressure against your neck.
You could feel your eyes rolling back again, head spinning and cunt pulsing as one more push of his fingers did your climax hit. In the porn industry, you weren’t known for being a squirter. There you were though, letting a fountain of clear liquid spray both of your bodies as you completely let go.
You barely had time to recover, before you were flipped over with ease, thick cock cramming itself in your sopping cunt as he yanked your hair back. “You better fuckin start listening to me. I don’t ever fuck a girl twice, even on camera. Feel lucky I wanna make you my own personal whore.” He rasped in your ear, the butterflies hitting your tummy at the thought of having this deranged man in your guts over and over again.
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chikaras-garden · 10 months
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Demonhead Damian when his lovely sugar baby is angry and giving him the silent treatment, how does this possessive man handle this?
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Hot anger flares in your chest as you stride through the halls, and every assassin in your path knows not to get in your way. When you look like that—powers sparking, eyes alight—everyone knows that it’s more dangerous to cross you than to feign ignorance when the Demon Head inevitably questions them. 
The guards avert their eyes when you burst into Damian’s chamber and accuse, “You dismissed my maid!”
As he sits behind his desk, his eyes slowly rise to meet yours. Then, his eyebrow quirks—just a little. “Removing one of your friends? That is all it took to convince you to speak to me again? To think I had considered having her killed.”
“I am still angry with you,” you point out, inclining your chin in the face of his blatant nonchalance. He’s not afraid of you? Good. You’re not afraid of him, either.
He tilts his head, corners of his mouth twitching. “Come to me, princess.”
You scoff. “Hire my maid back.”
A beat of silence passes, and then he lets out a long-suffering sigh. “Very well. But I do expect you back in my bed this evening; sleeping alone is…”
This time, he’s the one to wrinkle his nose.
“…inadequate.”
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sturnioz · 3 months
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☆ . . ."fuck, you're takin' me in so fuckin' well." matt pants heavily in your ear as his hips drill up into yours, his grip tight on your waist to keep you stable above him.
your face is shoved into the pillow beside his head, your arms laying limp at your sides, and drool seeps from your lips with your eyes rolling to the back of your head with each deep thrust.
you've completely fallen apart on top of him, unable to remember the amount of times he's made you cum in the past hour. your head is cloudy, your vision is blurred, your mouth feels dry and your voice cracks whenever you try (and fail) to use your words. the only sounds that leave your lips are the uncontrollable moans and whines.
tears stream down your cheeks from pleasure, and the sniffles you make only urge matt to go faster. his blunt nails press into your ass cheeks as he fucks you deeper, muttering all sorts of filthy words and praises into your ear.
"such a good girl, fuck." matt whispers as his movements start to falter, letting you know that he's close to cumming inside you once again, and you're eager to be filled.
the grunts that fall from matt's lips are heavenly, and you're unable to truly appreciate the sounds when your ears ring and your mind falls blank when he slams up into you, painting your walls with thick spurts of cum.
his body convulses as he goes through the last few waves of his orgasm, and his body relaxes against the bed with heavy pants, trying to get his breathing back to normal as his hands travel upwards, rubbing over your clammy back before affectionately caressing your hair, blowing the strands away from his mouth.
matt murmurs your name as he helps lift your head up from the pillow so he can look at you. the corner of his lips twitch as he sees you tear strained cheeks and blank eyes, feeling some pride in himself once realising he's fucked you dumb.
he pecks your lips softly, "come on, let's—"
"no," you manage to croak out when you feel him try to remove you off of his cock, and you surprise yourself as you find the strength to shake your head and grip his arms.
"what do you mean 'no'?" matt snorts as he cups your cheeks so softly despite his rough actions a mere moments prior, "i told you earlier i'd fuck you dumb..." his finger gently taps your temple. "i think i made my point pretty fuckin' clearly."
"more." you order as you push yourself up and place your hands on his chest for leverage when you feel yourself go dizzy, already feeling light headed from the slight movement.
your body aches, but you don't care, pushing that feeling to the side when you grind your hips.
matt's eyebrow raises high, watching you with a dark gaze as you ride him at such a pathetically sluggish pace, his cock nestle deep, his cum becoming makeshift lubricant for the both of you.
he doesn't care that your movement is slow, he's already getting hard again at the sight alone, and the fact that you as so desperate for him makes him feel a little crazy.
"you s'big," you babble, already losing yourself again as you dig your fingernails into his chest to keep you grounded. "matt... fit s'well inside of me. fuck—"
you gasp when you're thrown down onto the bed. matt switches positions, now kneeling between your legs, staring down at the way your puffy cunt sucks in his cock as he completely bottoms out inside of you.
matt exhales through his nose, his jaw tense as he watches how your body reacts to him, how your mouth parts at his movements and eyes flutter shut as his cock presses against that spot that makes your toes curl.
"you're insane..." matt whispers affectionately, so in love with you and your body. "god, i fuckin' love you."
© sturnioz
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writingjourney · 3 months
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𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭
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Your betrothal period feels entirely too long. You and Benedict make the most of the wait, especially once you spend your days together at Aubrey Hall. Or: Five times you and Benedict have to restrain yourselves before your wedding and one time you don’t.
pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader
content: 6.5k words, regency romance, secret meetings, stolen kisses, smut (morning sex, v fingering, p in v), 18+ MDNI
Masterpost – Ao3 Link
───── ⋆⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺⋆ ─────
1 Closet
“Ben–”
“Shhhhh.”
His mouth closes around your nipple, breasts spilled over your stay that he tugged at desperately mere seconds ago. You tip your head back, fingers tangled in messy brown curls. His tongue draws a soft moan from your lips, the kind you could not hold back if you tried.
Benedict removes himself with a pop and looks up, innocent eyes over pink, kiss-swollen lips. “They are going to hear us!”
His scandalised tone is what lures the giggle from you.
Benedict, alarmed but no less amused, brings a hand up to seal your treacherous lips. “Shhhh!”
An incredulous smile spreads across his face and you tug at his lapels, intent on kissing it away. His weight has you pressed against the shelf behind you, the hard edge biting into your lower back. You moan into his mouth with the combined vigour of pleasure and pain.
Benedict breaks the kiss with some effort, brow furrowed in distress. “Do you want us to get caught?”
“It is too tight in here I rather think,” you bemoan and urge him to switch places with you. He has the height to his advantage. “Besides, we are already betrothed.”
“Betrothed, yes, but not wed.”
You ignore his complaint as you fix your state of undress, then wrap your arms around his neck to remedy the offending distance. A second of hesitation passes before he leans back in and resumes to bruise your lips. You wonder, sometimes, if the passion you share is of concerning strength.
As air becomes scarce he breaks away to attend to your exposed skin. His lips press to the round of your bosom, your clavicle, then softly venture forth to your sensitive neck. He lingers as long as he can get away with, then pauses by your ear. “How long have we been in here?”
“I should think a few more minutes will go unnoticed…” you whisper.
Benedict hums, the sound deep and warm against the shell of your ear. You rake your fingers through his hair and he bites your earlobe in turn. You are moderately concerned for your jewellery but then his nose tickles the inside of your ear. Another giggle escapes you as the tingle runs through your body and leaves you shivering in its wake.
Once again his hand moves to cover your mouth as his eyebrows rise in alarm. The warning look under his enviably long lashes is a sight you have grown rather fond of. The thrill of these stolen moments makes them all the more memorable, rare as they are.
You smile against his fingers before pressing an apologetic kiss to his palm. “I shall endeavour to be quiet from now on.”
His gaze softens with a twitch of his mouth. “One of these days Anthony will have my head…” he whispers before leaning in to kiss you yet again.
⋆⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺⋆
2 Music
The music is unmistakably yours. The practiced tunes lure him from the sweltering heat of the gardens into the cooler corridors of Aubrey Hall where they arrived just yesterday morning. Anthony insisted on hosting the wedding here, of course, and how could Benedict not rejoice at finding himself under the same room as you at last?
He stops, leans against the frame of the open door to the drawing room and drinks you in. The piano is angled away from the open windows, your back turned to him. Bare skin shimmers in the sunlight, diffused by sheer white curtains that stream dreamily in the mild breeze. He follows the line of your shoulders where they rise and fall as your hands dance across the keys, then up the curve of your spine where your neck is exposed under pinned-up hair. The music seems to carry the ease with which you hold yourself.
He notes that your maid is not with you, a sign that the staff is kept busy with wedding preparations. Or perhaps you sent her away as you are prone to do, craving solitude – and opportunities to meet him. Benedict finds himself chasing these moments in which he gets to have you to himself like they’re his sanctuary, so precious that he has to pile them up with care like gemstones in the shrine of his love for you. One day soon he will be able to display them more openly. For now he has to grasp them as they appear.
You only hear him when his steps have reached so close that not even the rugs can muffle them anymore. A few weeks ago you might have been startled by him appearing out of nowhere but by now it is rather natural that he should find you when you are alone. It seems he has a sense for it.
When you look up he is already urging you to scoot over. The double piano bench is rather narrow but you think he might be closing in more than necessary. You’re acutely aware of the press of his thigh against yours.
“Do not let me disturb you, dearest,” he says in the dulcet tone you know means mischief.
“Is your goal not to disturb me, Mr Bridgerton?”
“My goal,” he whispers, leaning in conspiratorially, “is to be closer to the music.”
His breath on your neck does nothing to enhance your ability to focus. The first few notes are not quite rhythmic as a shiver runs through your limbs and down your fingertips. You soon find your footing, however, and the song comes to life in the form of a moderately slow but all the more magical sonata of your own composition. Sheet music is quite expensive and your collection rather limited. To add some variety you recently began to write your own, significantly inspired by Benedict and his artworks.
“Beautiful,” he whispers to himself and you smile as you transition into a faster section of the song that reminds you of fairies frolicking in a meadow, drunk on honeydew and starlight.
However, you soon realise that he did not talk about the music. His hand dances along your back, fingertips drumming over your spine until they come to rest on the swell of your hip on the other side. It is the closest thing to an embrace, his arm a comforting support behind your back. His proximity, if thrilling, does not deter you. Your hands remember exactly what they must do – over a decade of tutoring has left its marks.
Your confidence is short-lived. His hair tickles your ear as he leans in, a soft press of his lips to your shoulder, devoted, sensuous and… lingering. Your fingers slip but for a moment. It is enough to draw the wrong tunes from the instrument, a cacophonous quake that has you wincing in surprise.
“You must stay focused,” Benedict warns, lips still warm on your skin, “or everyone shall hear that you are… rather distracted.”
“How fortunate that I am known for my stable countenance.”
“Hm, yes, that is what they say about you, my darling, “ he whispers. “If only they saw you as I do, falling apart at the mere idea of a kiss.”
You close your eyes and recollect yourself, trying desperately to ignore how he feels against you. Despite his warning he shows no signs of stopping, not even as you resume your play. The next kiss hits the crook of your neck. You feel his nose against your jaw as he inhales your scent, rose oil and soap. For a moment his warm exhale against your throat overshadows the fact that is fingers curl at your hip, a not so innocent squeeze that you feel somewhere between your legs.
You’re aware that both of your families are just outside in the gardens, that the open windows and the steady breeze carry your tunes far out on the premises. Muscle memory serves you and you finish the hardest part of the song without more than one or two off-key notes. Benedict has been silent, lips lingering just below your ear. Just as you move on to the conclusion his mouth gets more insistent, sucking gently at your delicate skin as he gets carried away.
”Benedict,“ you warn. Crooked tunes are one thing, a vivid red kiss mark another.
“Forgive me,” he whispers, pressing tiny kisses along your neck now. “I cannot help it.”
You finish the song with a relieved exhale, wondering if a musical number has ever felt so painfully long before. Benedict has lost his patience, it seems. His free hand comes to rest on your sternum as though he needs to feel the agitated rise and fall of your chest. You only have a moment to relish in the soft feel of his palm on your bosom before he curls his fingers over your jaw and forces your head to turn to him. His kiss is dizzying, starved. He tastes of the strawberries he must have had outside just earlier.
You allow him to kiss you breathless before you remove yourself. He tries to chase after you, as he is wont to do, but a finger on his swollen lips has him halting. His expression rivals that of Newton when he is in want of a treat.
“We must go back outside before they find us,” you say. “It is already suspicious enough that I played off-key the moment you stepped inside.”
“I blame you for being such a flawless musician.”
“I blame you for being such an irresistible distraction. Now come on, my darling, I am suddenly in want of some sweet strawberries.”
He sighs woefully and you cannot help but kiss the pout from his face.
⋆⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺⋆
3 Painting
You see the corgi’s bottom disappear around the corner. The Viscountess runs after him to retrieve the pall mall ball he stole from the lawn, her mallet swinging from her side as the heated game between her, Anthony, Colin and some of your own relatives is interrupted. The laughter of little children accompanies your every step as you and Eloise take a turn about the house, exerting your legs for a stroll after the small luncheon you had earlier.
Perhaps mere intuition. You glance up to one of the windows upstairs just as it gets pushed open. The rolled up white sleeve and bare forearm disappear from view and you have to resort to using your parasol to hide the direction of your gaze as it lingers long after. A purposely given sign or mere coincidence, you are eager to find out.
“Excuse me, Eloise, I would like to… cool down inside for a moment,” you lie. “I am running quite hot in the sun.”
“Ah, yes, cool down,” she murmurs. “I am sure it is not at all because you cannot bear to spend even a minute without my insolent brother.”
She waves you off, her words mere teasing. You have no doubt she is rather glad to return to her books instead of parading around with you.
Thanks to the many diversions offered in the gardens you manage to slip back inside mostly unnoticed. Aubrey Hall, as grand as it is, is still more of a maze to you than a house and you wander around for longer than expected. A waste of your time with Benedict, certainly, but the manor more than makes up for it in beauty and family history at every turn.
When you reach the right corridor, you note that one of the doors stands ajar. With the window open you can feel the soft breeze carrying you towards the room, the mildly chemical smell of paint assuring you that you are correct.
Benedict is busy. He is seated on a wooden stool, wearing nothing but his ruffled white shirt, the collar open wide to reveal most of his chest, suspenders sitting somewhat tight on his shoulders as he moves his brush across the canvas like it’s his sole purpose in life. Your stomach warms at the sight.
Everything he does inspires love, the way he holds the brush, the way his face is scrunched up in concentration, lips slightly parted and tongue wetting the corners of his mouth. When he spots you by the door his expression morphs into the crooked smile that never fails to have your heart aflutter.
“Do not let me disturb you, dearest,” you echo and he cocks his head to the side.
“Is your goal not to disturb me, Mrs Bridgerton?”
“Not my name quite yet,” you correct. “Though I do rather like the sound of it.”
“Hm. So do I.”
He picks up more paint with his brush and you approach the easel, watching him work. The subject is a still life, for lack of better choices you assume. The fruit in the small basket has seen better days, though he omits the putrid details in his painting.
“I should have you sit for me,” he comments, noticing your doubtful gaze. “That way I might not get as much painting done but at least I would have something worthwhile to look at.”
“If we were to be left alone in a room for hours I doubt you would get any painting done.”
He chuckles, depositing some more of the red paint on the cheek of an apple. “Are they all distracted outside, then?”
“Mhm, your brother is busy ruining my family at pall mall,” you say. “He should give them a chance at winning or they might call off the engagement after all.”
“Are they quite ambitious?”
“Not as much as your brother and the Viscountess, I daresay.”
He sets his palette down to give you his undivided attention but before he can stand and seize control you’ve already wrapped your arms around his neck from behind. Without his waistcoat there is hardly a barrier between you now, the thin shirt allowing you to properly feel his shape underneath as you press against his back. Your lips find his cheek, your hands the opening of fabric at his shirt and you can’t help but pull at your gloves, desperate to feel his skin. The moment your warm palms connect with his chest the brush slips from his fingers, clattering to the floor.
“You must stay focus, remember?” you tease.
“What if I don’t want to?” he whispers, suddenly breathless.
“Then you can focus on me instead.”
He does. You crave more room so you slowly run your fingers up his suspenders and let them slip from his shoulders, one by one, until you can open his shirt even wider. You admire his bare torso, the freckles that litter his body like stars in a pale night sky, soft hair and even softer skin.
The kisses you press to his neck and shoulder are nothing short of reverent, the muse admiring the artist. Benedict gives you full access, one hand gently resting on your wrist and the other in his lap. Braver now, you run your thumb over his nipple and the deep moan he releases is nothing if not obscene. You smile to yourself, repeating the movement to which he reacts by letting his head fall back against your shoulder. His hand reaches for his knee in a tight grip.
“You are certain everyone is occupied outside?” he asks, voice strained.
“It seemed so,” you reply. “Though, if you keep making these noises, they will hear you through the open window and knowing your brother he will sense my presence up here.”
“Hm perhaps Anthony will challenge me to a duel if he finds us.”
“Don’t even joke about that. Besides, he would have to challenge me to a duel since I am currently dishonouring you.”
“And whatever would you duel in? Who can vex me more?”
“Do I vex you, dear?”
“You do, s-so much. Ah.”
“And how so?”
“Do you really have to ask, you little temptress? How am I expected to wait another week?”
His patience has run thin. Before you can react he has swivelled around. Two broad hands grab at your hips and he pulls you into his lap with a fluent turn of his upper body. The stool wobbles precariously under your combined weight but somehow, miraculously, Benedict manages to balance it out. His thumb feels wet when he swipes it over your cheekbone, drawing you in for a proper kiss.
Benedict has a tendency of getting carried away when you’re alone. You slow him down with a tug at his unruly hair. His tongue swipes across your lips and you allow him to lick against yours for but a moment. Somewhere in the back of your mind, prudence and common sense battle with the unhinged desire that his touch provokes at all times. You pull away with a regretful sigh.
“Do not think I am handling this any better than you,” you whisper.
His lust-filled expression has you doubting your own sanity. You are close to losing your composure at the way his lips curl in discontent when a childlike squeal outside reminds you that you are in fact not the only two people in the world. Benedict reluctantly eases his grip on you and you manage a safe distance.
“I shall let you get back to your painting,” you say. “I expect someone will be looking for me soon.”
“I will join you outside in a moment.”
You smile and make for the door before your senses leave you yet again. The corridor feels violently empty without his presence but you are not yet around the nearest corner when you are met with the broad frame of another Bridgerton. Anthony spots you with an expression that borders on disapproval but carries the same hint of perpetual fondness he cannot shake ever since marrying his wife.
“Has your… game ended, my lord?” you ask, trying to appear innocent.
“Hm, I see yours has as well. You should… wash your face.” He gestures to your cheek with a raised brow, brisk steps carrying him past you. “And I shall have a word with my dear brother.”
When you bring your fingers to your face you are met with the wet texture of undried oil paint, apple-red. You notice another stain by your hip soon after, fingerprint-shaped no less. Even though you will have to change into a different dress now you can’t bring yourself to regret your impromptu visit, not when Benedict’s taste still lingers on your lips. The shouting from the other room stays out so you assume his brother found mercy on him as well. No duel today after all.
⋆⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺⋆
4 Picnic
The weather is most pleasant as you traverse the vivid green meadows with Benedict by your side, hand placed securely in the crook of his arm. It was decided that two days before the wedding the whole party would embark on a picnic to enjoy the outdoors. The chosen destination is a nearby lake and while the servants set up the location you are all taking an extensive walk across the countryside to see more of the surrounding lands of the Bridgerton’s ancestral home.
The walk is short in distance but with both of your family’s making the trip it is a rather time-consuming endeavour. Your relatives have decided to inspect every single tree and field on the way, complimenting the Viscount and his mother on the beautiful piece of land his family calls their home. The smaller children are meanwhile distracted by pebbles, sticks and the odd insect that crosses their path, particularly intrigued by the colourful butterflies that flutter excitedly over a plethora of blossoming weeds and flowers and refuse to be caught by their eager little hands.
You and Benedict use the time to focus on each other. You have fallen back just enough to speak freely and you count the amount of love-sick smiles you receive every time he lures a giggle from you. He is adorable when he’s with others, more adorable still when he is with you.
By the time you reach the lake you are at twelve smiles. The set-up is too lovely and serene, a shame to be disrupted by two dozen people swarming to it for refreshments. In the shade of high broadleafs and so close to the water the heat is much more bearable.
“Benedict, fetch your betrothed a lemonade, will you?”
You find Violet, as you are now allowed to call her, with her hand reaching for your gloved elbow. Benedict and her exchange looks that speak of their intimate knowledge of the other’s thoughts, his challenging and hers that of a mother who has to remind her son of his manners. You fight off a smile as he excuses himself. He never likes to leave you alone with his family.
“Will you sit with me, dear?” Violet asks. “It is rather difficult to catch either of you alone these days.”
“Forgive me, I know we are toying the line of propriety by spending so much time together already–”
“Oh, nonsense! I am sure neither Anthony nor your family mind. In fact we are rather excited to see you getting along so well.” She leads you to one of the blankets by the side of the picnic arrangements, littered with pillows of sky-blue embroidery that invite you to rest. “You must know that a love match is all I ever wanted for dear Benedict.”
You do your best to find a graceful sitting position on the uneven terrain, keeping your latest encounter with Anthony to yourself. “I daresay it is rare to find a love that is so genuine.”
She smiles at you, a motherly smile that is all the proof you need that you have long since been accepted into the family. “I am inclined to agree, my dear. It is rare indeed.”
For a moment you sit in comfortable silence as the breeze sweeps through the clearing, leafy-green canopy swaying and rustling to the rhythm of the cooling wind. You spot several ducks gliding across the lake, some more sitting in the gras by the shore. It is idyllic. If a life with Benedict means spending more time in this part of the country you know you will spend many a happy summer with him.
When you focus back on the party you notice your betrothed approaching the scene with a somewhat hesitant smile, still adorable in its crookedness. A reassuring look is exchanged and he slowly lowers himself to your level, hands occupied with refreshments.
“I shall take my leave,” Violet says. “I hear Daphne and sweet Augie require my presence.”
You are certain that they are alright on their own but you will not miss an opportunity to be alone with Benedict if she offers it so willingly. Once she is out of sight Benedict hands you the lemonade. The first sip is just what you need after the walk.
“And… since you are so fond of strawberries,” he says, “I secured you the last few before the children get their hands on them.”
“Thank you, my dear.”
He smiles genuinely now and you lean a bit closer. A comfortable silence settles between you, even though the party more than makes up for it in noise. The strawberries are sweet as they only come in June, picked ripe and fat with juice, staining your gloves red at your fingertips. You care not. Not when Benedict secured them for you, not when his eyes are fixed on your mouth with every bite you take as though he envies them every sinking of your teeth.
You offer him one but instead of taking it he leans in and presses his lips to the corner of your mouth, sucking the juice from your lips.
“Ben–” you warn.
“Shhh.”
Another kiss before he pulls away. You glance around nervously but everyone seems too occupied to notice. On the blanket you place your hand next to his and toy with the ring on his pinkie, hooking your finger in his bigger one. Benedict looks at the strawberry still in your hand, then back to your eyes, a honey-sweet smile gracing his lips.
“Perhaps I would like one after all,” he says, “now that I know how delicious they are.”
He is a tease but you lift the fruit anyway, holding it up to his mouth. He takes his time to take a bite, eyes intensely glued to yours. Perhaps you are too far gone to care, perhaps it’s the way he commands all of your attention with a mere look, but the world around you blurs into nothingness. It is unfair, you think, how every freckle and dimple you discover on his face makes him even more beautiful.
As he swallows you finally notice a few pairs of eyes on you. Heated cheeks have you sitting back, covering the worst with a press of the back of your hand. But before you can compromise yourself any further one of the children squeals in terror and the whole party shifts their focus to sweet Augie who has got too close to one of the ducks. The bird has spread its wings to run to safety, quacking in sudden irritation. The other ducks follow swiftly and soon the whole swarm flutters back to the lake in a whirlwind of feathers and chatter.
You use the distraction to grin at Benedict. His eyes are fixated on you as though the turmoil around you is of no significance to him, a soft, affectionate expression no doubt prompted by your flush. You dare to lean in once more, kissing the sweet strawberry juice form his lips. He looks down to your intertwined fingers, removing his in favour of fully grasping your hand.
You cannot bring yourself to care what it looks like to anyone else as you both let yourself fall back into the pillows, watching the fluffy white clouds travelling across the sky.
⋆⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺⋆
5 Night
A sudden bang like thunder has you shooting bolt upright in bed. You are momentarily confused, the room not as familiar as your own quite yet. Bright moonlight, blue sheets, sheer curtains. Aubrey Hall.
It is the night before the wedding.
You can’t remember falling asleep, only the anxiety that kept you up all evening. Another, quieter bang and you realise that it is your door. Not a knock though. It sounds like someone is using their entire body to get it to open.
You think the whole house must have woken up but beside the ruckus at the entrance to your bedroom everything is eerily quiet. You’re entirely too trusting. Perhaps bringing a makeshift weapon would have been helpful but you approach the door in just your nightgown, barefoot, empty hands. Intruders would attempt to be quiet, would they not?
You are met with Benedict tumbling straight into you. His body is heavy with the lack of his own coordination to support it and you struggle to hold him upright. He recovers before you can fall, stemming a hand against the doorframe.
“Whatever are you doing here?” you yell-whisper, sleep still clinging to you in such a way that it seems absurd and almost dreamlike to find him in your room.
Benedict giggles. He does not laugh, he giggles. “I am here to see you, of course.”
His lull is evident and reality clicks into place. “I believe you are quite drunk!”
“I believe I am quite in love,” he corrects. “And is that not the same thing?”
Suddenly you feel very bare in your sheer, lace-trimmed nightgown with your hair undone and face still crusted with sleep. Benedict is hardly noticing your state, half-leaning on your shoulder, half-leaning in the doorframe. He smells of liquor and smoke.
“Where are you coming from?” you ask, trying to steady him with your hands. He is falling against you again, though you suppose he is doing it to be closer now and not for lack of balance.
“Spent the night with my bro‘ers,” he explains. “A ugh… tradition.”
“Getting drunk the night before our wedding? You are going to feel awful tomorrow!”
“I am not that drunk,” he argues, though his pupils appear wide in the relative darkness of the room. “Just enough to… calm the nerves. Now, do I get my goodnight kiss, pretty please?”
“You are too drunk for a kiss,” you argue, even though his exaggerated pout is rather convincing.
“I am not that drunk, love, I swear.”
“Too drunk to know that you should not be here. Have you lost your mind?”
Another pout, this time, unfairly so, combined with that pleading tone you can never resist. “I had to see you. Make sure you’re… still here.”
His words confuse you more than they enlighten you and you know that the noise combined with your talking might wake someone else any moment now. You cannot draw attention to the rather compromising position you find yourself in, no matter how soon the wedding takes place – if only to save face in front of your relatives.
He may not be too drunk to walk but his unsteadiness is concerning you enough to make an impromptu decision. “Let me take you to bed.”
He giggles again, clearly misunderstanding, and rubs his nose against your cheek. You stop, returning the clumsy embrace you find yourself in. He continues to nuzzle, inhaling deeply in a way that tickles your neck in all the sensitive spots and his hands wrap so tightly around you that he squeezes the very air from your lungs. Your heart swells. Being in his arms unties every tense knot in your body. It is the home you never knew you were missing.
“Oh Benedict,” you whisper, “whatever have you done to me?”
“To bed, hm?”
You gently push him off of you. “Yes, but not mine.”
He grunts but his complaints stay silent as you usher him back into the hallway. You can tell he is more coordinated now but when he uses you as his crutch you allow it anyway. To your dismay, you realise that it is going to take you forever to get to his room. His pace is sluggish, multiple times you have to shush him and he refuses to walk without touching you in some shape or form.
By the time you finally arrive at his bedroom, you are not sure if you’re sleepwalking or actually awake, the sudden rush of excitement upon waking up now slowly catching up with you. It is sheer luck that you enter without anyone taking notice. Benedict exhales a loud yawn that rivals the roar of a lion. You use the opportunity to undress him.
Perhaps it is for the greater good that you do not get further than his waistcoat. He rather suddenly drops himself onto his bed and drags you right with him. The impact has you tumbling across his body, landing in the soft sheets and pillows that are as yet untouched. Benedict pulls you close, eyes half-lidded and heavy. His hands roam your body but it is not sexual at all. He follows your curves as though it is the natural thing to do and with only your nightgown covering your skin his hands feel closer, warmer than ever. You raise a hand to brush back his curly hair, tracing the tired lines of his face, connecting each freckle like the stars in a constellation of your own making.
You think he must be falling asleep, lulled by your gentle caress, but then he suddenly furrows his brow. His eyes find yours as though he suddenly remembered something important.
“You won’t say no, will you?” he asks. “Leave me standing by the altar a fool?”
You smooth out the crease on his forehead. “Are you truly afraid that I would?”
“You must admit… this all rather feels like a dream.” His hand stops at the dip of your waist, resting in the natural valley underneath your ribcage. “A part of me is still waiting for the painful morning after when I wake up and realise that none of it was real.”
“It is real, so very real, Benedict.” You smile, reassuring him. “Though I daresay it is natural to be nervous the night before your wedding. Is this why you came to my room?”
He ignores you, fingers denting your flesh in insistence. “Tell me that you will say yes. Promise me.”
“Of course I will. I promise. There is nothing I want more than to marry you.”
He seems satisfied, eyes falling closed again. His lashes tickle his reddened cheeks. They feel hot underneath your thumb as you smooth it over his skin and you hope he won’t feel too exhausted tomorrow. Even now he is so very beautiful, so lovely, so yours.
“Don’t be scared, please,” you whisper, and then, because it feels right, “I love you.”
His eyes blink back open, the words, so explicit, a novum between the two of you. Your reward is the crooked smile you so adore and he presses his forehead to yours. “I love you.”
You decide that he earned his good night kiss now. It is soft, unexcited, but it lingers and he does his best to kiss back. You note a bitter hint to his taste but it does not bother you. When you break away Benedict is practically asleep and by the time you finally control your love-sick smile you can hear his quiet snores.
You slip from his bed on the empty side and bring your hands to your lips, touching them as though you just kissed him for the very first time. The way back to your room feels like a dream in itself. But you know, you are so perfectly sure, that you will wake up to the happiest day of your life.
⋆⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺⋆
+1 Wed
Mornings start with a soft press of his lips to your shoulder.
No matter which position you find yourself waking up in, it is always the first thing you feel. The kiss is so soft that it tickles and you can never pretend that you are asleep for much longer. Benedict won’t let you because the first kiss is always followed by another and another and another. So many kisses that you can’t hold back your giggles, not when he reaches the ticklish spot by your ear.
You think it is the very reason he does it.
A heavy freckled arm wraps around your front, dragging you across the mattress until you are met with the solid chest of your husband. He is warm against your back, familiar, welcome.
Benedict hums, a hand closing around your breast and squeezing. His lips return to your neck but they are less soft now. If you do not pay attention you have to walk around with your silk scarf again. Paying attention, however, is hampered by his other hand sneaking down your belly and dipping between your legs.
“Good morning,” he whispers, “my beautiful wife.”
“Good morning,” you echo, still quite hazy with sleep.
The bright light streaming in through the curtained windows tells you it is rather late already. However, your eyes flutter closed the moment his fingers slide between your folds. He rubs you gently, waking up your body with the tingles of carefully built pleasure. You can feel his hips shifting forward as well, his cock growing hard against the small of your back, and suddenly getting up is the last thing on your mind.
By now you are customarily late for breakfast.
For the past few days he has done nothing but explore the previously unknown land that is your body, map out its hills and valleys and find the sweetest spots to linger. No matter how much information you thought you had clandestinely gathered, nothing truly prepared you for what it means to love someone, to lean into your passions so freely. But then perhaps Benedict makes it easy.
You gasp when his finger probes further down, slipping into you effortlessly. He adds a second digit soon after. Even so he remains unhurried, taking his time to gift you the sweetest strokes, the gradual build-up of warmth and desire you now know is the most rewarding. The rhythm of your bodies is slow like a dance to one of your ballads but soon your moans grow louder and you roll your hips into his hand with impatience. Your peak draws near and his other hand knowingly rolls your nipple between his fingers, lips pressed firmly to your neck. The touch is enough to take you to the release you so crave. You keen and shiver in his arms as it tears through you, one hand grasping at his biceps and the other buried in the sheets.
“Ben–” you whisper and he chuckles at your breathless voice.
It is evident that he enjoys showing you how good he can make you feel. That it pleases him to worship you whenever an opportunity arises. Mornings in bed are drawn-out, nights short and sleepless, slow hours during the day filled with spying for empty rooms and available surfaces. You wonder if you could extend your honeymoon indefinitely, to spend your days like this forever.
Benedict gives you a mere moment to breathe before his hand releases your breast and cradles your cheek instead. He gently turns your head, thumb pressed to the tender underside of your jaw, and then his lips descent with an impatient hunger. You bury your hand in his soft hair, one of your favourite things to do, and he groans when you tug at his strands. His body has become familiar to you as well, your own map of him ever-expanding.
Slow as your mornings begin, they quickly turn sensual and needy. His other hand grabs your thigh and opens you for him, spreading you apart. You can feel his cock hard against your wet cunt, an anticipatory whimper leaving your throat. Benedict slowly pushes into you, making sure to avoid any discomfort you might feel before he finds a more satisfying pace. Your limbs are still tangled in the sheets, every movement bringing forth a symphony of rustling of fabric and the rhythmic sound of skin meeting skin.
Kisses deepen, lips swell and your bodies move in practiced sync. You feel the warm tingles spreading into every corner of your insides, his softer moans and your higher ones drowning out the world around you until all you know is him. You are still tender and when you come the pleasure feels like liquid fire in your veins. You hiccup as he picks up his pace with you still tight around him, prolonging the sensation. Then he rather suddenly stills, smothering a deep moan with an uncoordinated kiss. You feel his release warm inside of you and smile.
As the world comes back into view, you begin to stroke his hair and lace your fingers with his. He laughs, satisfied, then kisses you again with less insistence. His arm once again wraps around your middle, pulling you close while his lips stay firmly planted on yours. His chest is damp and your own body feels hot as well. You’re grateful for cool sheets and silken pillows.
“I don’t think we should rise today,” you decide, eyeing the window.
“Mhm, I don’t think we should either.”
───── ⋆⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺⋆ ─────
Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed – kudos, comments, reblogs etc are as always much appreciated ♡
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okiedokrie · 4 months
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size kink go brr
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Summary: Reader is horny, Mingyu is big, size kink go brrr
Characters/Pairing: Boyfriend!Mingyu x Reader
Genre: Smut, dirty, self-indulgent, porn without plot. (Crack, yeah, this is a crackfic smut.)
AU/Trope info: Established relationship. No thoughts, head empty, monster cock Mingyu.
Word Count: 1254
Warnings: Female reader, smut warnings under the cut
A/N: reskin of another fic i wrote for ateez bc I need to feed yall
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Smut Warnings: cunnilingus, degradation and praise at the same time(?), choking, very large emphasis on the fact that reader is getting split open by what is essentially a third leg, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, creampie, reader starts crying at one point but Mingyu isnt into that, biting, reader overstimulated to the point she short-circuits. 
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“Fuck, Mingyu!” You screamed as he gave a particularly harsh suck to your clit, your fingers tugging at the roots of his hair as two of his large fingers scissored you open. The dirty slurping noises come from Mingyu as he ate you like a starved man, he groans and almost buries his nose in your pelvis, breathing in your scent, and his eyes roll to the back of his head as if your pussy was the best thing in his mouth after fried chicken. 
He bucks into the mattress, dick hard and leaking at the tip in his boxers, if you kept moaning so pornographically and pulling at his hair he might just jizz in his pants. He squeezes the flesh of your thighs hard, pulling your pussy closer to his face, the man was on a mission to make you cream (or better yet, squirt) all over his face; an essential part of his skincare, at least that’s what he said.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck- Mingyu! Mingyu! I’m cumming- cumming-!” You whine out, clamping your thighs around his head as you push his face closer, Mingyu welcomes your orgasm with his whole mouth by messily slurping your cum. He pulls away from your cunt once you start cringing from overstimulation, using his hand to wipe your cum off his chin.
He quickly discards his pants and boxers, “Help me get your legs over my shoulders babe.” He says as you hook your hands under your thighs, spreading out your legs as Mingyu slots himself between you, pumping his dick quickly. “Fuck, you should see how hot you look, so tiny and so willing to take everything I give you.” He said while lining his dick to your entrance. You can feel the tip of his dick prodding at your hole, you bit your lip as you brace for the entrance of his gargantuan, monster cock; I’m talking thiccc with three ‘c’s, third leg, can play baseball with the fucking moon kind of big.
You hiss as the tip of his cock breaches your entrance, his large calloused hands guide your hips onto his dick as he pushes in more. You hiss at the delicious sting of his dick, removing your hands from your legs and opting to claw at the bedsheets, Mingyu takes one takes a hand that was once guiding your hips to hold onto the headboard, the view from below was great.
You slowly take him inch by inch, and even with how wet you are the penetration still seems to burn, it took a lot more time than you think for Mingyu to bottom out, like, when I say MONSTER COCK I MEAN it. Once he does bottom out, his pelvis meeting with your ass, the tip of his angry cock pressing up against your cervix and pushing away some of your organs. 
He pulls out slowly, gauging your reaction to every vein and ridge on his cock, as he pushes back in you furrow your eyebrows, biting your lip as you feel his dick rub the entire inside of your pussy. He groans when you clench around him, nails digging into the wood of the headboard as he starts with a gentle pace, moving his hips in and out slowly at first, before speeding up the roll of his hips.
“Holy shit- Mingyu! Fuck so big, too big-!” You cry out, you really can’t be sure that’s what you said though, even if he isn’t fucking into you at an animalistic pace he still manages to fuck the brain cells out of you, you might just be babbling nonsense right now. He makes a noise between a moan and a groan, biting the inside of his cheek, “You take everything I give you- you understand?” He grunts out, speeding up again and pinning you down more, he is low enough for you to feel his hard breaths on your ear, he bites down on your shoulder in an attempt to quiet down his noises, he wants to hear you.
You grip his arms, moaning in a high pitch and babbling nothing in particular, Mingyu was fucking you stupid with his giant cock and you couldn’t be happier, his pace now was brutal, the skin of your ass stinging with how hard his pelvis has smacked into it, you could feel yourself get embarrassingly close already. Your moans turned into high-pitched cries as your orgasm was speedily approaching, you clenched around his dick to signal to him your incoming orgasm, but it never came, because suddenly Mingyu got off and pulled out, denying you your orgasm. 
You whine in frustration, making more babbling noises and doing grabby hands at Mingyu, he chuckles and bites his lip, looking up and down your naked body, from your hard and perky nipples to your abused and tender hole. He finally enters you again after making sure your climax is nowhere to be seen, this time he starts fucking into you with fervor, holding your hips up to hit the deepest part of you, “Fuuck- that’s it, take my cock like the good fucking cum slut you are-” He says, somehow the combination of his praise and degradation make you whine out, absolutely blissed out, no thoughts, head empty, only big Mingyu and his big cock destroying your insides.
You were so, so close again, but Mingyu slowed down the aggressive pace of his hips, stopping his thrusts and just grinding down slowly, you started to cry, you wanted to cum so badly but Mingyu didn’t let you for the second time already, “Fuck- Mingyu, please please please, let me cum! I’ve been so good, please-!!” Mingyu, not having the heart to deny you again, finally decides that he was going to let you cum.
He lays down, “Go on and ride me, babe, I know how much you love to bounce on my cock.” He says, so naturally, you jump up and immediately straddle his hips, sinking onto his cock quickly, he takes a sharp intake of air as you enthusiastically start rolling your hips, grinding down on him. You place your hands on his large and firm chest, then you start bouncing up and down his cock, loving the sting of his giant dick reaching the deepest parts of you. Mingyu can feel himself coming closer to his high as you clamp down on his dick like a vice, trying to milk him for his worth, he grips your hips and starts bucking up into you, you whine out and babble expletives, mouth hanging open and drooling, digging your nails into his chest as your orgasm approached you quickly.
You throw your head back and finally cum, your jaw slacking open and your eyes rolling to the back of your head, the spasming of your pussy pushes Mingyu over the edge too, sending his load straight into your womb, this action threw you violently into another orgasm, making you choke out a strangled moan as your cringe of oversensitivity.
You both pant out, you’re exhausted and sweaty, muscles sore, pussy raw, and you just want to pass out in a tub full of warm water. Mingyu shares the same sentiment, so he runs a bath for both of you to get cleaned up, and once you two are done taking a bath, you sit down on the edge of the tub while Mingyu changes the ruined sheets. He tucks you under his arm, kisses your forehead, and you both pass out.
FIN.
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rafeschicana · 5 months
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𐙚˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆。 ˚ just like her mama/daddy 𐙚˙✧˖°📷 ༘
dad!rafe x mom!reader
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the constant beeping woke you from your afternoon nap. only given birth three weeks ago naps with your newborn baby were routine. you blinked, slowly bringing your hands to your face and rubbing your eyes. it’s only when you hear a shriek, do you sit up in bed panicking. you quickly look to the left of your bed where your daughter’s bassinet is, finding it empty. after struggling with removing the throw blanket that was tangled between your legs, you leave the room in search of your newborn daughter and her father.
“i’m sorry baby i know, i know mama is smarter than daddy, please be patient” rafe whispers to the fussy baby who whines in his arms. “Just let me put you down for one second!” he pleads to a fussy ari. that is when you decide to help. “i got it” you giggle walking towards the bottle warmer rafe couldn’t get started. “sorry we woke you, babe, she’s hungry and i couldn’t get that shit on.” he mumbles.
“that’s okay, our baby is like her father very impatient..when he wants something.” you smirk making him shake his head. the sound of his raspy laugh calming the little bundle in his arms. “how are you feeling?” the simple question warming up your insides. rafe was already a loving husband before becoming a father. now seeing him as a dad almost brings you to tears every time. “im okay i needed that nap” you whisper running a finger down ari’s nose.
“she's so beautiful” you now understood what everyone says about moms believing they have the cutest newborn in the world. “just like her mama” rafe bent down placing a gentle kiss on your lips. he never fails to make you feel beautiful even though you thought you looked a mess. wearing one of rafe's shirts which now had spit-up stains. his own sweats were also covered in dried-up milk. it was all part of the new parent life. you'd get adjusted soon enough.
ari squirmed in her father’s arms. bottom lip forming a baby pout. “my princess don't you start i hate seeing you cry.” rafe cooed rocking back and forth. “it’s coming ari girl” pulling the bottle from the warmer you tested out the temperature on your wrist. “just needs a couple of seconds to cool down” your girl was very picky when it came to her milk temperature. if it was room temperature she wouldn't take it, spitting it right out with a whine. It needed to be the perfect in-between. “mama’s got milk okay let's go sit down” rafe moved towards the living room with you following behind.
immediately snuggling into both of your loves as they rested on the sofa. “it should be good” you smiled passing rafe ari’s bottle. “only three ounces lets see how fast she drinks this shit” rafe joked knowing his baby was a hungry little thing. “We might have to change her schedule to a bottle every two hours.” it'll be hard but maybe she'll sleep a little longer through the night.
“hey, hey slow down princess it ain't going anywhere” rafe gently removed the bottle from ari’s mouth. ari let out an angry breath, furrowing her eyebrows. “i think she's mad at you daddy” you giggled craning your neck to kiss his nose. rafe threw his head back in silent laughter “she looks so funny when she's mad” he brought the bottle back to her mouth. ari immediately going back to drinking her milk in slow gulps. “still cute though”
“just like her daddy” you whispered before letting your eyes close into slumber.
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cloverfarm · 5 months
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— read you like a book
sdv!harvey x f!reader
rated e - 5k
Tags: gentledom/service!dom harvey, mutual pining/ yearning, mention of alcohol, flirting, kissing, begging, teasing, body worship, oral sex, vaginal fingering, implied squirting, multiple orgasms
A/N: had the thought that Harvey would know just how to take care of you, and wanted to explore that idea (and still deep in my Harvey-is-a-dirty-talker era)
“You want to know what I was really thinking about?” Harvey rasps, the tips of his fingers skating against your waist, slipping down to tease against the elastic band.
“I was thinking-,” A finger slips beneath the band, testing the elastic. Inching it away from your skin, but not making to remove them, “A girl like you should be taken care of.”
His voice drops, “And that I wanted to be the one to do it.”
(Or - Harvey overhears about your past lackluster experiences, and can’t help wanting to lend a hand)
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There’s the clack of pool balls colliding in your corner of the Stardrop Saloon. The jaunty piano music muted, your fingers wrapping around a sweat-dewed glass.
A late-night Friday evening, the conversation already turning debauched as your off-handed remark of feeling frustrated was quickly misinterpreted and took another turn. Spiraling away from you, with their overlapping ideas.
Your nose crinkling with a suggestion to use the community board, one that has them bent-over with laughter - you could only imagine the shock at seeing such a message.
Help Wanted: Farmer looking to get ploughed. Used to getting a little dirty. If interested, please call…
“Could use an app. Been a while, but I used to do that.” Shane’s wiggles his phone at you, keying in the website for FerngillFlings. Flashing the front page at you, all while you try to ignore the clench of jealousy that flares to life in your stomach.
Sam leans over you, squinting at the screen, “You can’t tell me that works. Your matches come all the way out here?”
“Sure do.” Shane’s shoulder lifts in a shrug, from where his arm rests on the couch behind you. “Haven’t heard any complaints.”
The double-innuendo isn’t missed, your tongue poking into your cheek as your head shakes in exasperation.
“Haven’t heard, or haven’t listened?” Abigail shoots back with a smirk, and he rolls his eyes at her in response.
“Any matches from here?” You can’t help but ask, glancing sideways at him in curiosity.
He slumps a little further in his seat, knee knocking against yours, “Wouldn’t you like to know, farm girl?”
Thick fingers curl around the can before it lifts it to his lips, hiding his own smirk as you stiffen beside him.
Shane infuriated you. Always teasing, never answering a question directly. Deflecting a sly comment with a dry one of his own, until you weren’t sure where you stood with him.
You’d given up a while ago.
Your heart now quite taken with another.
“I think we’d all like to know.” Abigail chimes in, and you send a grin her way.
“I thought we were still talking about Miss Grange Queen?”
Your look turns apologetic - you know Pierre has been prepping all week as well - but she brushes it off, “I don’t care. Honestly, I hope you win this year. But he is right…”
A chipped polished nail taps her lip, before she fixes you with a look of concern, “When was the last time you got laid?”
The gulping swallow of your drink goes down wrong, making you splutter. A solid hand thumps you on the back, as your palm swipes across your mouth.
“What?” You manage, through watery eyes.
“Okay, we definitely gotta know.” The hand still rests against you, pinned against the plush cushion of the couch. Fingers tapping expectantly between your shoulders.
Yoba almighty.
You know they won’t back down. Even Sam lingers, eyebrows raised as his hip rests against the edge of the pool table.
“It’s been… a while.” You hedge, glancing around the room before you can answer. Voice lowering - not worried about the bar, it’s too far away.
More concerned about the booth that sits just across the room. Occupied when you arrived - your gaze flicking to Elliot often as he had sat alone, waiting.
Knowing who would be coming - a little flip in your stomach with Harvey arrived late, red-cheeked from the run, the novel pinched between his fingers.
You thought it was cute. Their little weekly book club. On another night you would have hoped to eavesdrop - figure out what the choice was for this month.
“You talking weeks? Months?” Sam asks, ignoring the glare from Sebastian, the hip check that follows - indicating his turn.
“Pre-farm,” Your head shakes, “Two years, maybe?”
“Years?” Abigail screeches, as your eyes widen - a hand coming to press unconsciously against a burning cheek.
Unable to help the sidelong look at the table across the way. The heat in your cheek rising to your ears when your eyes meet hazel ones, before you’re dropping your gaze.
“It’s not worth it,” You try to rein them in, all but pleading, “It’s not like it’s all that satisfying either, you know?”
“You mean you don’t…?” Abigail suggests - looking at you dubiously, and even Sebastian is turning to give you a pitying look.
“I mean… sometimes, I guess?” Your shoulder lifts, and then drops, “It’s not a big deal.”
You could get there yourself just fine. Have certainly managed, with your current dry spell. Before, you sometimes would afterwards - alone - easing the unresolved pleasure that licks in your belly.
But you’re sure it wasn’t the same as having someone there with you. Having their focus so solely on you.
It’s not something you’re about to explain. This has gotten too deep. You’re used to the tales of Shane’s old one night stands. The occasional complexities that come from Sam and Abigail both dating the same person, but these talks rarely focus on you.
“What kind of guys are you fucking?” Shane asks bluntly, making you gasp.
“Normal guys.” You hiss, “Besides, it’s probably just me.”
Taking a sip of your drink then to deflect, the sharp flavor making you cough.
“You don’t starfish, do you?” Sam pipes up, helpfully.
It has you almost choking again.
Shane smirks, “Maybe it is you, Farm Girl. Should have someone here take a look-”
You miss the end of his comment with the sudden, loud scrape of wood. Heads turning to where Harvey half-stands, his chair pushed back. Staring your way, with lips parted and brow furrowed.
“You got something to say, Doc?” Shane scoffs, his voice a little too loud.
Harvey blinks, and reddens. Coming back to himself, a sharp click of teeth as they close - swiping his half-full glass from the table.
Mumbling something about needing a refill - before his head is dipping, and he makes towards the bar.
Your eyes follow him, before your hand is scrubbing over your face - the heels pressing into your eye sockets. And finally, mercifully, the subject is changed, a collective groan as Sam accidently knocks two stripes in the corner pockets.
But even as the evening fades - you can’t quite shake Harvey’s expression from your mind.
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The air is cool, hinting at the coming frost. Your jacket shrugged on as you step outside, before plunking down on the cobblestone path outside of the Stardrop.
It’s dark, late. The scattered streetlights outside offering pockets of the town, the rest cast in hazy shadow.
There’s a flare of light to your side. Sebastian sneaking out for his smoke break, now that Robyn and Demetrius have called it a night. You sometimes go with him, keeping silent company.
Content to let your legs dangle, to listen to the croak and groan of the frogs near the river. To let your mind wander.
Tonight though, it’s still so singularly focused.
You don’t feel embarrassed about what you said, only that he overheard it. Harvey had so much of his life together - surely a man who was there to discuss books and drink wine would not want to spent his evening listening to the lewd gossip of folks younger than him.
What if he took your words to heart, and thought you were not interested? What if he thought you weren’t good? A sigh to yourself then, as you pull yourself together with a reminder. Not that he thinks anything of you.
But… you admit that you had hoped.
It’s only now that you hear voices just down the path, two friends bidding goodbye. That shade of green you’ve come to associate with Harvey has your ears pricking up - catching where they linger, near the park benches.
Bravery steeling itself, in your belly.
“I’m gonna head out,” You hear yourself saying, as you push to your feet, “I’ll catch up with you guys tomorrow.”
“You sure?” Sebastian asks, with a smoky exhale.
“Yeah.” It’s distracted. Giving him a wave, just as you skirt around the door that opens behind you.
Missing the pair of eyes that follow you as you leave.
Too far out of earshot to hear the murmured words, as he exhales another held drag from his cigarette, “You’re missing your chance, man.”
And then the answer, growled out as Shane’s hands shove deep into the pockets of his well-worn jacket.
“Never had one.”
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“Harvey!” You call out, as he splits from his companion.
Missing how Elliot settles amongst the trio of benches, his book cracking open to finish the chapter under the streetlight.
Harvey lingers, in the middle of the cobblestone path. His expression almost wary, your explanation coming in a rush.
“I am sorry if we made you uncomfortable.” Your hands clasp together, fingers twisting, “We should’ve been more considerate. You and Elliot were there first.”
His expression clears at that, a slight mark between his eyebrows. He’s tall, you’re realizing. Not that you didn’t know, not that you haven’t stood next to him on occasion.
But your heart had never quite pounded like this, never so acutely aware of your proximity - too used to the barrier of the counter in his office.
“No, uh, not at all. I wasn’t uncomfortable.” Harvey clarifies, his voice soft, “I certainly didnt mean to try to interrupt. I’m afraid that was rude of me.”
His answer sends your mind careening into overdrive. Not quite taking his half-hearted excuse earlier, but too wrapped up in your embarrassment to truly process it.
That has you thinking - realizing that he had some sort of intention. Your heartbeat kicking up a notch, unable to help but wonder.
“Can I ask you something?” Your eyes search his, voice quiet in the night, “You don’t have to answer.”
The slight curve of his lips fall, an almost uneasy look passing his features - though he does not deny you, “If you’d like.”
“What were you going to say?” You ask him “Back in the bar. You can tell me, I won’t tell anyone.”
Your words hang, for a moment. And then silence, enveloped by the soft sounds of the night.
“Oh.” He hedges, a hand rubbing at the back of his neck, “It’s, ah… it’s just a shame.”
Your eyebrows lift, worry flooding through you as you wonder what he means.
“That you haven’t had a more… positive experience.” He finishes lamely.
The worry transforms, turning into a heated curiosity.
“Why would it be a shame?”
The shade of pink deepens across his cheeks, hidden in the shadows. A finger unconsciously hooking around his collar and tugging.
“Because there’s no reason satisfaction can’t be mutually inclusive,” He manages, “From uh, the point of view of a medical professional.”
Your lips press together to hide your laugh, charmed by his careful answer, “How I wish that were true.”
And that had him fixing on you, catching you in the brunt of his gaze, “It could be. Maybe you just haven’t met the right person yet.”
It makes your breath catch. That hope flaring to life again. Reading into his meaning, daring yourself to ask, “Is that right? You know anyone around here?”
Only to watch the way his face goes carefully blank - his words slow, “I’m sure… I’m sure you don’t need my help to find out.”
It’s hard not to feel disappointed. Hoping that there was an offer, woven into his words. The bit you had clung to leaves you, with the next exhale of your breath.
“I’m sure you’re right.” Your smile is small. Deflecting with a joke, because it’s all you know, “I don’t starfish, by the way. If you heard that part.”
He huffs a laugh, the corners of his eyes crinkling.
“I didn’t think you did.”
The look he gives you is at odds with his hesitance in answering. A soft, amused smile that makes your heart flip.
Yoba, you have it bad.
“Goodnight, Harvey.” You smile back - intent on ending the night before you make it worse, “And, thank you.”
His answer echos yours, his feet firmly rooted as you disappear into the night. Silence lingering under the soft glow of the street lamp, as his mind races.
“If you were looking for an invitation, old friend,” An amused voice comes from the benches - where Elliot still sits, his book long forgotten.
“That was it.”
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The television blares as you stretch out on the couch - intent on unwinding a bit further, after a long day. Immediately stripping down to your loungewear as soon as you stepped in the door, cracking a window to let in the autumn air.
Your head rests on a pillow, an old quilt pulled haphazardly around your hips as you watch a rerun of The Queen of Sauce - something that fortunately required little attention.
Because your mind is occupied elsewhere, thinking back to the square with both chagrin and disappointment. Hoping that maybe Harvey had drank more wine than you thought - that maybe he wouldn’t remember how you all but threw yourself at him.
Gentleman that he is, he probably just wouldn’t bring it up in the first place. You don’t know if that’s more preferable, or less - perhaps you owe him yet another apology.
A timid knock at the door draws your attention, your feet silent as you slip from the couch. You really should move it - giving yourself a view of the small, narrow porch. Maybe installing another light outside.
But this was Pelican Town, you remind yourself - you’re not in the big city anymore. It was probably Abigail, not wanting to head home yet.
For now, you move to the door, pausing to shrug on the worn, plaid barn coat that hangs by the door, buttoning it in an last-minute attempt at modesty.
Your hand on the frame of the door as you crack the front door open, close enough to grab the old wooden bat you have tucked next to the rickety side table.
Eyes going wide when you realize who it is.
Harvey. His face half-turned away, looking like he’s second-guessing himself from your delay - half-way ready to book it down the steps that lead to the packed dirt road.
“Hi again,” You nudge the door open wider, leaning against the frame.
He turns back, surprise crossing his features again when he sees you. Eyes dipping down, snagging - slowly dragging back up over the bare skin of your legs, the low dip of the collar, as if he has forgotten himself for a moment.
“Hi.” He answers belatedly, blinking as he comes back into the present.
You wait a beat for him to explain, for any sort of sign as to why he’s here. Wondering why he travelled all the way in near-darkness, you knew more than anyone what a trek it could be.
And he must realize, because he blinks again, worry pulling down the edges of his brows, a small crease appearing in the middle.
“I-, well, Elliot-,” Harvey begins, throwing a thumb over his shoulder into the darkness, his other hand still clutching the book from the Saloon. Starting over when he realizes he’s making zero sense, “Back, in the square.”
His lips pressing together for a moment, an inhale of breath before the words rush out, “Am I misreading this?”
An emphasis on ‘this’, a small gesture with his fingers between the two of you. It makes you smile, relief flooding through you - enough to where you’re reaching out, tapping a fingernail against the solid cover of the book.
“I think you’re reading this just fine.” Your head tilts up to look him in the eye, seeing the relief on his own features as well, “Would you like to come in?”
“Yes,” He breathes, and you’re stepping aside with a smile - taking his book from him to rest on the little side table.
Hanging his moss-green jacket on your one good hanger by the door, showing him where to put his shoes.
Steps that make the floorboards creak because he doesn’t know which ones to avoid - not yet - as he lets you guide him to the couch. Carefully sitting on the middle cushion, the sharp, white starch of his dress shirt standing out against the worn, rust-orange fabric.
Your own feet following until you’re standing in from of him. Not quite believing, as your face tilts down to meet the upturned angle of his own.
Harvey was here.
The man who got more than a little bossy with you when you came in to the clinic with a bad scrape, or a cold. Who always has a smile, who listened intently when you keep him up to date about the new crops you’re growing, even though he knows nothing about farming.
Who you never had let yourself daydream about too often, because he had always kept you at arms length. You had always thought it was part of his profession, or that perhaps he just didn’t see you like that.
Like he’s looking at you now - like you’ve hung the stars.
You really want to kiss him.
You hope he’ll let you.
Slowly, like when you’re approaching a new calf, you move toward him. The slight, automatic spread of his knees as you step between them, before your own knees are bending.
Hands resting on the wooden frame of couch as you lower yourself - until you’re straddling his thighs, bare knees pressing into the worn cushions on either side.
“This okay?” You ask, close enough to smell a hint of his aftershave, the solid weight of him beneath you.
Hands that slide from their place at his side, up the curve of your calves, until they’re resting on the bare expanse of your thighs.
“Yes.” The word comes out low, fingers pressing against your skin as your own drop to the thick buttons of your coat, slowly working each one open.
Until you’re shrugging the fabric off to pool on the wooden floor - all bare arms and legs beneath in your too-large t-shirt, a pair of cotton underwear.
About to apologize for your choice in clothing - never actually expecting to take someone home - but the hands rise, cradling your face as he tips it to meet his.
A low sound in your throat at his lips touch yours, your hands resting on his chest, fingers fisting in the fabric. A feather-soft brush until you shift, pressing yourself against him as you lean in.
His groan matches yours. Hands moving, skating down your arms, curving around your hips. Your hips roll on their own, seeking the friction of his trousers. Something warm pooling in your belly, when he deepens the kiss.
Encouraging you, as those hands guide the roll of your hips again. As his tongue brushes against lips that part without thought.
There’s the sharp punch of fruit on his tongue, paired with the taste of him. A heady mixture, making you feel like you could get drunk off just this.
You can feel him harden beneath you. Pressing against your cleft as your thighs inch further apart. It’s only when your hands leave his - reaching for the bottom of your shirt, that he breaks away.
His lips kiss-swollen and pretty. Disheveled, his tie crooked, shirt wrinkled from your fingers. Equally dazed, his eyes flicking down to your mouth, and then further again.
“Not here.” Harvey’s voice is a low rasp, unmoving despite his demand.
It has your pausing, until you catch the way his first two fingers slip under the hem, petting against skin.
“Bedroom?” You offer, and he’s smiling. Leaning forward to kiss you again. Easing you off him but it’s reluctant - his fingers twining with yours as you stumble into the next room.
It’s darker in there, the light from the television flickering against the floor. Dissolving as it reaches your bed, your knees parting this time as he stands between them.
Your eyes greedy, focused on his fingers as he loosens his tie, the first few buttons of his shirt. His own drifting over every inch and curve of you. A short intake of air as you tug the shirt from your shoulders, leaving it to drop on the floor.
It feels like you’re on display, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Not with the way he looks at you - his eyes snagging on the damp patch between your thighs, the pale fabric darkening with your arousal.
“You want to know what I was really thinking about?” He rasps, the tips of his fingers skating against your waist, slipping down to tease against the elastic band.
You’re near-mute. Left nodding, as the bed dips. As he urges you back into the pillows, folding himself onto the mattress with you.
“I was thinking-,” He tests the band, a finger slipping beneath. Inching it away from your skin, but not making to remove them, “A girl like you should be taken care of.”
His voice drops, “And that I wanted to be the one to do it.”
You feel yourself clench down around nothing. A low whine in your throat at the tone of his voice. So matter-of fact. Like he knows how to do just what he says.
“Can you?” It comes out strangled, your breath held as his eyes fix on yours, “Could you show me? What it’s like to be taken care of?”
“Would you like that, sweetheart?” He asks - his gaze searching. Slipping a second finger under, the blunt nails grazing sensitive skin.
“Yoba.” Your hips feel like they lift on their own, seeking him, “Yes. Please, yes.”
He smiles again, the moonlight catching on his glasses. A hand running through tousled curls, mussing them further. Fingers joining yours as your panties join the floor, baring yourself fully.
You expect him to touch you and he does - but not in the way you’re thinking. Lowering himself next to you, guiding your mouth to his again. His hand skimming the inside of your thigh. Fingers slipping along the crease where it meet your hip, inches away from where you ache for him.
“Harvey.” You sigh into his mouth. Chasing it when he pulls back, hearing the pleased hum in his throat. Carefully removing his glasses, tucking them into his shirt pocket.
Then his mouth is dropping to your neck, where your pulse flutters. To your shoulder. All while his fingers trace your skin, making you squirm in anticipation.
When his tongue peeks out to brush against tight, peaked nipple, you hear yourself cry out. Clinging to him again, as teeth graze against your breast - followed by a soothing kiss, his mustache tickling against the soft curve.
“I need you to touch me,” You pant.
Long forgetting what it was like to feel like this. The anticipation swirling in you like a dam about to burst. The desperation - knowing after all this time of wanting him, that tonight he is yours.
Your own hands grasping at him - tugging at the buttons. Pale skin and dark hair appearing with each one that loosens, trying to pull the hem from where it tucks into his trousers.
The hand against your thigh twitches, his gaze dark as he glances up at you. No longer hidden behind frames, you can see how his pupils are blown wide, inching out the hazel.
“I just want to make sure you’re ready, sweetheart.” He rasps, inching closer - fingers parting on either side of your mound.
“Want you nice and wet for me.”
It’s too much. You’re too wound up, needy. In your daydreams you’ve thought of him - in your bed, bent over the table in his office. Everything pales in comparison to this, turning you into a begging mess.
“I am,” You breathe, “Fuck, Harvey. You know I am, I’m-”
The words break off, turning into a ragged moan as he finally touches you. Parting your slick seam, where you’re dripping from the press of his mouth and the teasing glide of his fingers.
“There you are.” He hums, though you can feel the way his hips press against yours. Chasing his own urges, seeking friction where he strains.
Your eyes flutter half-shut as he teases as your entrance. Fingertips slick as he brings them up to circle your clit, sparks going up inside your belly.
Watching as he moves, the careful ease from where he lies next to you - now settling between your thighs.
“Yoba, you’re beautiful.”
He says it so simply, almost as if in awe. Your thighs start to clamp shut around his hand but he’s smiling - his left palm pressing your leg to the bed, opening you further.
Not used to his gaze like this. It flicks from your face, down to where his hands shift - his thumb rolling against your clit, as his middle finger sinks inside you.
He can feel how you clench around him already. Movements slow, drawing himself out just to sink further each time.
“So fucking pretty.” He says it again - you think, just to see you squirm. The way your eyes pull from his, the flex of your muscle under his palm.
Transfixed by the way his fingers move. The pressure against your clit, the way he presses deep. Your small room filled with the little sounds you make and the slick plunge of his finger.
Your panting breath catching, turning sharp as his finger crooks on the next pass. Carefully stroking against your inner walls, a throb of pleasure following.
He catches your sounds, a mark forming between his eyebrows. One you’ve seen before, in the way he focuses when you’re explaining something about your farm. A sweet stretch of pressure when he adds his ring finger, opening you further as he strokes again.
You haven’t felt anything quite like this. A ghost of it, with past lovers. Something that made your muscles tighten, but never so focused.
Like he’s intentionally searching for this spot that makes sparks arc up your spine. Making you ache for more - to be filled by him.
“Mm,” He hums with satisfaction, “Right there. Does that feel good?”
It’s hard to think, with the thrust of his fingers. The circling pressure against your clit. Your own fingers curling - one in the sheets, an anchor. The other drifting up to cup at your breast, unable to help leaning into his ministrations.
“Tell me, sweetheart.”
There’s an edge to his voice. One that he uses in his place of authority, one that only stokes the roaring flame in your belly. Everything winding tight in anticipation, each steady pump of his fingers hurtling you towards your peak.
“Yes,” You moan, “Yes. Oh, Harvey-”
His head dips, mouth pressing a kiss against your abdomen.
“Good girl.” He husks, with your answer. The words shoot straight to your cunt, just as you begin to arch into his touch.
“Oh, please-” You whine, eyes sliding shut, “Fuck, you’re gonna make me come.”
The pinch of your fingers harsh against the tight bud of your nipple. The flicker of pain melding with the tight swirl of his thumb.
“Good.” He all but growls, the words low and rough in his throat, “Come on, honey. Show me.”
Your next moan turns high and long - as that tight string inside you finally snaps. A throbbing pleasure that begins at the apex of your thighs, radiating outwards as you bear down around him.
The hand in your sheets grasping and slipping on your way to him - his hand leaves your thigh to twine with it. Anchoring you as your hips buck into fingers that have gone still, giving you something to clench around.
“Just like that,” He coos, “Ride it out, I’ve got you.”
His breath warm against your skin, a kiss pressed to your stomach again, then hip.
“It’s not you,” Harvey tells you, each kiss moving lower, “You know that, right?”
Your breath catching - it feels like your cunt is still pulsing, when his mouth dips further. Not waiting for your answer this time - driving his point home with the talented tongue that suddenly presses against the bud of your clit, wet and warm.
Ensuring you won’t forget.
A moan is ripped from you, as he teases. Tight pointed licks, a flat lick following. A rough groan as he tastes your orgasm that coats his fingers, only just how beginning to move.
You’re too sensitive, squirming at his touch. Panting breaths and little jerks of your hips, the tight twist of overstimulation bleeding into something smooth and sweet as honey.
He’s ruining you for everyone else. The thought is a blurry one, something you can barely snatch. He hasn’t even fucked you yet, and you’ve already come harder than you ever have.
And is already working you towards a second. A rough groan when you let your fingers leave his to twist in his dark curls. Grasping onto his shoulder with the other one, his shirt wrinkling further.
You want it off. You want all of it off, want him bare and on top of you. Want to taste him on your tongue. Taste yourself against his lips, after this.
Unsure how he’s able to do it. Bring you to the edge again so quickly, but maybe it’s because you’ve never desired someone like this.
Deeper than desire, though you’re not quite ready to admit it.
You’re brought back, as his palm presses beneath your thigh. Hiking it over a shoulder, opening you to be devoured. Those fingers more confident now, sure and slick as they pound into you. Louder now, with the way you coat them, your release smeared across your thighs.
This time when you come, it’s against his tongue.
Brought over with the way his lips close sound and suck. The way he groans at your taste, his clever fingers leaving you breathless.
Choking on your heartbeat as you shatter. His wide palm curled around your thigh, keeping your cunt pinned against his tongue.
This time he can feel your pulse. Each throb of pleasure as it resonates through you. Feel the way you gush for him - his fingers dampening further, across knuckles and the flesh of his palm.
“Fuck.” You moan, when you can breathe again.
You expect him to pull away, after this. He must know you’re more than ready. But instead all you can see is dark eyes, a tongue that slips between the fingers that are still buried in you.
“Harvey,” You gasp, as his tongue then lifts to curl over your clit again, “Don’t you want to-?”
Doesn’t he want to fuck you?
Isn’t he aching, like you are?
“Tonight is about you,” He answers firmly. Lips glossy with your release, and despite his words you don’t miss the way his hips press into the bed.
“Sounds like I got some time to make up for.”
Your head falls back onto the pillow as you huff a laugh, breath catching as you feel his fingers slip free just long enough to work in a third.
Already finding that spot again, as he begins to build towards a third.
If he can read you this easily already, you think dizzily…
You can’t wait to find out everything else he knows.
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So here for the Harvey Renaissance 🙏💕 would love to know what you thought! Are you enjoying 1.6? (If so what are your mod recs???) | part ii is up here!
2K notes · View notes
worldlxvlys · 7 months
Note
Can we get a Matt using a vibrator on the reader infront of his brothers and he edges her but she finishes so he takes her homes and punishes her fic plsss.
vibe
matt sturniolo x reader
warnings: smuttttt, use of vibrator in public, edging, orgasm denial, p in v, creampie, overstimulation, fingering, spanking, choking, degradation
a/n: hope u like <33
i looked at myself in the mirror, smoothing out the end of my dress.
i tilted my head to the side as matt wrapped his hands around my waist, burying his nose into my neck.
“you look so good, baby” he mumbled into my skin.
“you think so?” i asked, my eyes fluttering closed as he left kisses against my skin.
“matt, we’re gonna be late to dinner” i breathed out, but tilted my head farther to give him more access.
he chuckled at this, “seeing as how i’m everyone’s ride, they can wait” he spoke as his hands crept under my dress.
he moved my underwear to the side and inserted a finger into my entrance without warning.
“fuck, matt” i moaned out.
he used his free hand to cover my mouth while his other inserted another finger into me.
“stay quiet, baby” he whispered as he continued to fuck his fingers into me.
suddenly, his fingers were removed from me just as quickly as they had been inserted.
i whined into his hand as he reached into his pocket for something.
“just needed to stretch you out, my love” he said as his fingers were replaced with a cold object.
“oh my god” i moaned as my tight hole was stretched out.
“matt what- FUCK!” i cut myself off with a moan of suprise when i felt a strong vibration in my core.
i gripped his arm as matt brought his phone into view.
“ i have full control baby” he said.
it’s a vibrator that he can control on his phone.
fuck.
suddenly, there was a loud knock on the door, followed by nick’s voice.
“can you guys hurry up? we’re hungry!”
deciding to tease me, matt suddenly switched the vibrator to the highest setting possible.
my body lurched forward as i brought my hand to my mouth, biting it.
i tried my hardest to suppress my moans as my entire body shook.
this shit is powerful.
“sorry, what was that nick?” matt yelled back, purposely stalling so nick would stay by the door longer.
matt smirked at me, watching me struggle to contain myself.
“just give us a few” i screamed out, willing nick to walk away.
“ok, chop chop!” he yelled back, before his footsteps retreated.
“well this is gonna be fun” matt spoke smugly, before turning the vibrator off.
“hurry up, baby. we’ve made them wait long enough” he raised his eyebrows tauntingly.
this sick fuck.
i just narrowed my eyes at him as i attempted to collect myself.
--
we were now sat at a booth in a local restaurant, matt and i seated next to each other and across from nick and chris.
matt hadn’t touched the controller for the vibrator since we left his room, and i honestly had forgotten about it completely.
we all looked over our menus, deciding what we wanted before the waitress came over.
as soon as it was my turn to order, i felt the low vibration inside of me.
i shakily inhaled, attempting to keep it together.
as soon as i opened my mouth to speak, however, the vibration intensified.
“can i” i cleared my throat, “ i-i have an iced tea?”
the waitress looked at me oddly, but nodded, nonetheless.
after i struggled through the rest of my order, the waitress collected the menus and walked away.
chris immediately spoke up, “you ok? you seem…off”
“yeah!” i blurted out, rather loudly.
his eyes widened at my sudden outburst, but he decided not to question it, “…ok” he replied.
i swallowed harshly as matt placed his hand on my thigh, making my dress ride up slightly.
i glared up at him as he looked at me with an evil glint in his eye.
he leaned closer to my ear and whispered, “ i promise if you cum, you’ll regret it. be a good girl and hold it. nod if you understand.”
i nodded lightly, and he immediately turned it up to full power.
i immediately gripped onto the edge of the table as my hips jerked forward under the table.
thankfully, chris and nick were too wrapped up in their own conversation to notice my reaction.
my underwear was drenched in my arousal and i bit my lip to stop myself from screaming out.
waves of pleasure shot throughout my entire body and i closed my eyes to hide the fact that they were rolling into the back of my head.
matt’s hand found its way under my dress and his fingers rubbed my clit through my panties.
“seems like you’re close, ma. you better not cum” he whispered as my body began to shake.
i quickly tapped my leg against the ground, making it look like i was shaking due to my leg bouncing up and down, rather than my boyfriend fucking me with a vibrator under the table.
“matt” i moaned under my breath, only loud enough for him to hear.
i was on the brink of an orgasm, when matt turned the vibrator off.
“fuck” i shakily sighed out.
“you ok?” nick asked, catching my sigh of disappointment.
“yeah, my head is just killing me” i answered, before turning to matt.
he looked at me innocently, as though he hadn’t just ruined my orgasm.
“you probably just need some food is all” he smiled before leaving a kiss to my forehead.
the majority of the dinner went like this, up until the food arrived.
matt teased me relentlessly, building up my pleasure and taking it away just before i got the chance to release.
each time, he waited longer and longer to halt the vibrations, trying to see how long i could hold out before breaking.
by this point, i didn’t care about anything other than finishing, i had completely lost my appetite for food. i was hungry for something else entirely.
once our food was placed in front of us, matt turned the vibrator onto the highest setting.
i placed my hand on his thigh, squeezing with all of my might.
tears pricked at the corner of my eyes as the toy pulsated against my sensitive walls, but i quickly blinked them away as i reached for my fork.
what i failed to realize, however, was that i wouldn’t be able to keep my fork steady due to the amount of shaking i was doing.
this caught the attention of both nick and chris.
“hey, are you sure you’re ok? you’re literally shaking” nick spoke up.
“o-oh, yeah. i think i’m just kinda anxious y-you know? lots of people in here” i spoke as a shiver ran down my spine at the intense amount of pleasure i was receiving, “plus, i’m just really hungry” i finished as i shoveled food into my mouth.
matt quickly threw his arm around me, rubbing my arm gently, “hey, it’s ok baby. i’m right here” he pretended to coax me, knowing damn well what the real problem was.
his hand moved to my back, before creeping its way down to my ass.
he gave it a squeeze, and i hid my face into his neck.
“don’t fucking do it” he whispered, knowing i was close.
“matt, i c-can’t hold it” i whispered into his ear.
“you can and you will” he whispered back.
my mouth hung open and my eyes rolled back as i dug my nails into his arm.
i tried not to give any indications of my incoming orgasm, but he knew my body too well to be fooled.
i gently bit the skin of his neck as i felt my juices leak out of me and into my panties.
my body continued to shake lightly against him as the powerful vibrations shot through my oversensitive pussy.
“did you just cum?” he asked in a chillingly low voice.
i lowly whimpered against his neck, not being able to form words as the effects of my orgasm still took over my body.
he gently pulled away from me and turned the vibrator off, and went back to eating his food.
for the rest of the dinner, he didn’t say a word to me, unless it had something to do with the conversation he held with his brothers.
when we got back home, we bid his brothers good night and he took me to his room without a single word.
once we got to his room, he closed and locked the door behind us.
“matt?” i asked as he pulled his shirt off.
“take off your clothes, right now” he spoke firmly, as he did the same to himself.
i quickly followed suit, until i was bare in front of him.
“what the fuck did i tell you in that restaurant?” he spoke as he turned me around, making me face away from him.
he ran his hand along my ass before giving it a firm slap.
i moaned out in surprise, “not to cum!” i spoke in response.
“oh, so you did hear me? you just didn’t feel like listening, huh?”
another slap.
“answer me.” he spoke before slapping me again.
“i’m sorry, i just couldn’t hold it” i whispered out.
he smacked my ass again, “speak up”
“i couldn’t hold it! i’m sorry, matt!” i yelled. at this point, i didn’t really care if his brothers heard me.
“hmm, you just wanna cum so badly, huh? ok. you wanna act like a cumslut? i’ll make you one”
i moaned at the thought of that.
“yeah? you like that? of course you do. my dirty girl” he pushed me onto the bed, making me land on my stomach.
“you gonna make me cum yourself or did you need the vibrator again?” i asked, testing his limits.
i shouldn’t have done that.
bang, bang, bang.
his headboard repeatedly slammed against his wall, his thrusts were sharp and hard.
my mouth hung open, spit dribbling out as he pounded into me from behind.
i lost count of the amount of times he had made me cum on his dick.
“you’re awfully quiet, ma. what’s wrong? did i fuck you speechless?” he asked as he slapped my ass.
he pulled out for a second, before turning me onto my back.
without missing a beat, he entered me again, making my back arch off of the bed.
“wanna see the face you make when i fuck every thought out of your brain”
my eyes were crossed at this point, makeup smudged, and my mouth stuck in an o-shape.
“look at you, you’re fucking ruined”
he slapped my tits, making my face scrunch up in pleasure.
his tatted arm reached up, and his hand wrapped around my throat.
“can a vibrator make you feel like this?” he growled out.
“no! no, only you matt!”
“you sure? cause if you want, i can stop. we’ll let your vibrator finish the job” he taunted.
“mmmmmm, no! i mean yes, i’m sure! i’m sure matt, oh my god” i babbled, as i dug my nails into his back.
“matt, i’m so close”
“yeah? me too, baby. c’mon, want you to cream all over my cock” he groaned.
i looked between us where our bodies met, the sight of his pleasure from the previous rounds being pushed into me sending me over the edge.
“fuck, fuck, fuck!” i screamed at the top of my lungs as i released on his dick, matt following right behind me.
he rode out our highs for a few seconds longer and pulled out of me.
my body laid limp as i attempted to regain my breathing.
“you ok?” matt asked me, placing a kiss on my forehead.
“fuck yes. are you ?” i asked in response.
“yeah” he breathed out with a smile on his face.
“let’s get you cleaned up” he said as he grabbed a clean washcloth from his bathroom.
while he cleaned us up, he whispered soft praises into my ear, reassuring me how good i was for him.
when he finished, he threw the dirty cloth into his hamper.
he gave me a shirt to wear and pulled on his boxers and a pair of sweats.
“i’ll be back, just gonna go grab some waters for us” he spoke gently, leaving a kiss on my cheek before exiting his room.
i checked my phone, seeing several missed messages.
nick <33
get that dick sisss
wait that’s literally my brother wtf
you two sick fucks are actually disgusting
chris <33
i hate you both
you’re so fucking loud
and the shaking at the dinner table ? you are some freaky fuckers
🌸🌸🌸🌸
masterlist
tag list: @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @vib3swithanuk @sturnsdior @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @annelisseakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @abbie13sworld @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @sturniolololover @lolll1029
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lexisecretaccx · 7 months
Text
Don’t hold back - Chris Sturniolo
(Fem reader x Chris sturniolo, Dom Chris, SMUTTY, degrading, hair pulling, choking, over stimulation, spanking, cock warming, breeding kink if u squint, all that goood stuffs)
Summary : Reader x Chris havent fucked in a week and reader is horny asf and wants Chris to not hold back and he doesn’t.. (everything is consensual do not fear)
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It’s been about a week since me and Chris last fucked, not because of any fault of our own but it’s been a stressful week. “You look fucking hot.” Chris smirked as he sat down on the bed next to me. I laugh lightly and keep fidgeting with the ring on my middle finger.
Chris notices this as he grabs my hand and looks me in the eyes, “what’s on your mind ma?” His right eyebrow raises slightly and I look at the freckles on the bridge of his nose, I sigh before rubbing my eyes “I don’t know, it’s just.. we haven’t fucked in like a week..” I trail off as my eyes uncontrollably focus on the light bulge that I can see through his sweatpants.
“Oh? Why didn’t you just ask, I’ve been stressed all week I needed to let it out somehow.” Chris smiles before standing up off the bed, “you can take the stress out on me, I don’t want you to hold back.” I stand off the bed also before walking up to Chris and look up at his lustful eyes.
“You’re gonna regret saying that babe.” Chris speaks slowly and in a low tone as he starts to place kisses on my neck, sucking and leaving marks. He hits that sweet spot just below my ear causing a light moan to leave my lips. Chris silences the moan by connecting our lips in a heated kiss. His tongue exploring every inch of the inside of my mouth.
I bite his lip softly as his hands travel down my waist to my hips and then he removes his hands to pull down his sweatpants, a bigger bulge outlined in his boxers, a light happy trail leading to his belly button. I move my hands down to palm his clothed cock, and he grabs my hand and holds it above my head, he breaks the kiss and pushes me down to my knees.
“You’re gonna take this like the good fucking slut you are.” He hisses as he pushes down his underwear revealing his large member springing up to his stomach, he pumps it a few times before looking down at me and placing his hand out flat, “Spit.” He demands and I spit into his palm. “Good girl.” He whispers as he lubes up his cock with my saliva.
He directs his tip to my mouth before rubbing it softly against my lips and pushing it into my mouth roughly, I grab onto his thighs for stability as he fucks my throat causing me to gag on his large cock as it pounds the back of my throat, his hands making my hair into a makeshift ponytail as he uses it to his advantage to force his dick further down my throat.
My eyes start to water and I look up at him through my tear soaked lashes, “you’re a beautiful whore for me aren’t you mama?” He asks through groans and grunts. I nod slightly and hum since I can’t get words out since his pushing into my mouth, not stopping his pace. “Fuck yeah you are.” He moans lowly.
I feel my mascara running down my eyes as continue to choke and gag on his cock, I feel it twitching in my mouth and his moans only get louder as I know he’s reaching his climax, “be a good slut and take my cum down your throat..” he breathes and I nod as his pace slows down, giving me room to breathe.
I feel warmth shooting to the back of throat as Chris lets out a loud groan and grabs my hair. I remove my mouth from around his member with a pop and swallow the last bit of cum in the back of my throat. I lick the excess cum off of his tip causing him to jolt forwards slightly. He pulls me up by my hair and kisses my tear stained cheeks.
“Look at you crying you gorgeous mama, you’re gonna take my cock in your fucking pussy because you’re a good girl.” He commands and I let out a croaky “okay.” As he kisses my lips before pulling my shirt over my head and throwing it across the room, he grabs my neck before pushing me face down on the bed as he pulls my pants and lace thong off in one swift motion.
He slaps my ass roughly before setting me up, face down ass up. Without warning he licks a stripe up my already dripping heat before pushing his tip into my entrance without warning causing me to grip the sheets and let out a loud moan. He pounds into me and the only sound in the room is his thighs clapping against my ass and both of our lustful moans.
He grabs my throat and pulls my head off the bed before continuing to fuck me so roughly my eyes are rolling into the back of my head, “fuck, you’re a dirty slut you love me choking you don’t you?” He teases in a cocky tone, I nod as his tip kisses my g-spot making me let out a pornographic moan. “Use your fucking words.” He demands through gritted teeth in my ear.
“Ye- yes I do.. fuck!” I barely am able to get out words as he’s fucking the life out of me, my eyes cross as I feel the knot in my stomach tighten, he removes his hand from around my throat and pushes my face into the mattress causing my moans to muffle, “Fuck Chris right there.” I scream as I feel my orgasm only miles away, he continues thrusting in as hard as he can, balls deep as he grabs his phone off the bed.
He pulls my head up by my hair and snaps a picture of my face as I’m being fucked dumb. “Picture perfect,” he speaks through groans. “Fucking slut.” He whispers in my ear as he throws his phone onto the bed. My back arches as he pushes my head back down and I feel the knot in my stomach snap as I feel my arousal leaking out of me around his cock. “Fuck I’m cumming.” I moan audibly, instead of helping me through my orgasm he continues to pound my entrance.
He flips me over, keeping his dick still inside of my walls, my legs limp and shaking hanging off the edge of the bed, my jaw hanging agape and my eyes in the back of my head, “Chris it’s too much..” I look at him, his facial expression unrecognisable, one like a lion would have looking at its prey. “Take it.” He groans loudly. “I can’t, fuck..” I whine. His tip kisses my cervix with every thrust.
“Let me fuck my kids into you ma.” He grunts as he continues fucking me deeply. I can only manage to nod as the overstimulation has taken my ability to form words. “Good girl.” He lets out a final groan as he releases his load into me, leaning over me looking me in my eyes, his pupils wide from adrenaline or something, like fucking me is a drug and he’s an addict. He slows down his pace and flops on top of me, his cock still inside of my sensitive hole.
After a brief moment he picks me up, not removing his member from me, and places me in the bed and puts the blanket over me. “You look like such a slut with my cum on your lips and your pussy..” he whispers in my ear as we get comfortable to sleep, “fuck Chris I don’t think I’m gonna be able to use my legs.” I breath out and let out a soft laugh.
He laughs before pushing his cock in a little further causing me to breath in swiftly and my legs twitch. “I’m gonna fuck you sideways right here.” he mumbles from behind me, as we’re lying down. “I-” I don’t have time to answer as he starts thrusting in and out for a second time, this time more softly and I look at him, sweat causing his hair to stick to his forehead and his lips puffy.
He starts kissing my neck, this time more aggressively and he bites down softly causing me to grab onto the headboard, I’ve lost all feeling in my legs and my stomach feels fuzzy, he starts to pound more aggressively as he moans lightly and slight whimpers leave my lips.
Before we get a chance to even feel the orgasm reaching, chris’ head falls on my shoulder as he kisses lightly. “I can’t do it anymore..” he whispers softly, “I couldn’t do it for the past 10-20 minutes Chris, welcome to my world.” I say sarcastically as I feel his fingers snake down to my swollen bud as he pinches it causing me to yelp out.
“Fuck!” I squint my eyes, Chris laughs against my shoulder. “Don’t ever speak like that to me fucking slut bitch, or you get that again.” I nod aggressively.
A few minutes pass as Chris’ cock stays inside of my aching walls, “you’re beautiful mama, fuck.” He whispers to me before kissing my cheek, “let’s sleep baby.” I mumble, “I’m keeping my cock inside your pretty pussy while we sleep, okay?” Chris speaks in a seductive tone. “Whatever as long as I can get some rest.” I kiss the top of his head as he falls asleep quicker than ever and me following shortly after.
Fuck I take back asking him not to hold back.
A/n : ok my coochie aching rn. I’m feeling like so smutty recently I had to write this. I’m not even sure if any of this makes sense I just want to sleep with sm1 cock in me rn who said that? Anyways hope u liked this, I wanted to make it kinda filthy and that is what I have done. Jesus Christ im scared of this idk.
Also! Feel free to request fanfics for me to write in my inbox❤️
Taglist: @kvtie444 @blahbel668 @mattsleftnipple03 @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @hysteria-things @sturniologurl4l2008 @jakevwebber
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buckys-wintersoldier · 4 months
Text
Domination | Bucky Barnes
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// Pairing //
-> Soft!Dom!Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Sub!Girlfriend!Reader
// Summary //
-> Bucky dominating you isn’t something he would say no, but that also means that he has the best idea for some a reward and aftercare after using you as his personal slut.
// Wordcount //
-> 2.636 Words
// Warnings // Explicit Content
-> 18+, Minors DNI, Dom!Bucky, mean!Bucky, finger sucking, degradation, dirty talk, praises, daddy kink, oral (male!receiving), deep throating, face slapping, ball worship, possessiveness, cum eating, fingering (fem!receiving), nipple play, cockwarming
// Authors Note //
-> I want to thank @bucks-babe for proofreading and for all these comments to the fic, thank you!
//Events //
-> MCU Kink Bingo | G5 | Dom/Sub ‘Verse | @mcukinkbingo
// Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist //
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“Bucky! Now,” you say, rolling your eyes when he just stares at you. His eyebrows narrowed and his hands on his hips, a slight smirk on his lips.
“We talked about that, doll. I’m doing what I want and when I want it, and you won’t tell me what to do,” he growls, taking a step closer and placing his hands on your hips. “You asked me to dominate you. Won't stop until you use your safe word; now be a good girl for Daddy.
You whine quietly, tilting your head back to look into his beautiful ocean-blue eyes. His pink, plumb lips look so kissable that you stand on your tiptoes, trying to reach his lips, but Bucky just turns his head and causes you to groan in desperation.
“Bucky! Wanna kiss you,” you mumble, placing your arms around his neck and trying to pull him closer. Bucky chuckles, not letting you pull him closer. “Asshole.”
“Watch your mouth, babydoll!” His tone is demanding, and he walks a few steps with you until your back hits the counter behind you. A soft moan leaves your lips when you feel his growing bulge pressing against you.
“Watch my mouth or what? Your pretty dick needs my pussy, doesn’t he?” You say, smirking.
“Wanna tell me your pussy isn’t dripping, ready for my cock?” He asks, his hand snaking down to your pants and into them. His fingers slide through your wet folds, teasing your entrance with a few soft circles before he removes his hand from your pants. Bucky lifts his hand, holding it in front of your face, smirking when your slick connects his fingers and causes them to glisten.
You moan softly, parting your lips to let him push his fingers into your mouth. When he smirks and places his fingers on your lips, you use your tongue to twirl them around his fingers, licking your arousal from them.
“Looks like my pussy needs my cock, huh? Sucking my fingers like a little slut,” he growls, pushing his fingers deeper into your mouth. You gag around them, tears building in your eyes, but Bucky holds you in place, fingers pushing down on your tongue. “That’s hot when you’re so submissive to get your daddy’s cock.”
You nod, your fingers digging into the skin of his neck, while Bucky thrusts his fingers slowly in and out of your mouth. Your saliva is coating his fingers, slowly dripping down your chin. Your eyes water, and a few tears fall down your cheeks when you try to breathe through the nose while Bucky shoves his fingers as deep as possible into your mouth.
“Good little slut, looking so fucking pretty with my fingers in your mouth. Would look even better if you drooled over my dick, bitch,” he groans, earning a moan. His eyes darken, and he removes his fingers, taking a step back and grasping you by your shoulders, pushing you down with force. “Such a slut, moaning when Daddy’s degrading you and telling you to suck his cock.”
You nod, breathing heavily while you’re grinning, when you see the bulge in his pants. Your hands made their way to his belt, unbuckling it. Bucky chuckles when he sees your shaking hands, trying to open his pants impatiently. “Gonna use your words when Daddy’s talking to you? Fuck, you’re so fucking impatient; wanna spank your fucking little ass for that.”
“Daddy, I need you,” you whine, trying to unzip his pants, but your shaking hand and the anticipation rushing through your body make it impossible to open them. Bucky groans, helping you unzip his pants, and lets them fall down, the belt hitting the floor.
With your palm, you rub over his bulge, earning a low growl from your boyfriend. He thrusts his hips forward, but you continue to rub slightly over his cock. The outline of it is visible through the fabric of his boxers, and a wet spot forms on his tip. “Daddy’s cock is leaking.”
“Don’t tease me, babydoll! Daddy’s cock needs your pretty mouth, so hurry and take off my boxers and take Daddy’s cock like the good little slut you are for him,” Bucky says, his tone giving no opportunity to discuss it with him.
You grasp the waistband of his boxers, shoving them slowly down. Bucky’s cock springs free, leaking, and the tip is red when it slaps against his stomach. Your boyfriend groans, looking at you, when you shove his boxer further down his legs until he takes them off completely.
Your eyes snap to his cock, the vein on the underside of his shaft poking out, and you lick your lips, squirming softly when you see the pre-cum on his tip slowly leaking down his cock.
You take his length into your hand, your fingers wrapping around his shaft, and you slowly pump him into your hand. Bucky trusts his hips forward, meeting your slow movements. Your thumb slips over his tip, smearing the pre-cum over it and using it to cover his cock in his arousal.
“Take it in your mouth already, or I will make you,” he says, demanding, and you whimper. Your panties are soaking wet with your arousal, and the way he talks to you turns you on beyond belief. Bucky being mean and teasing you while you kneel in front of his cock, taking it into your mouth, is so hot. “Whimpering like a little slut.”
You part your lips, bringing the tip of his cock closer and taking it between your soft lips, suckling at his tip. Bucky throws his head back, loving the feeling of your lips wrapped around his tip. You take more of his cock, twirling your tongue around his tip, and moan softly about his taste — salty but delicate.
Bucky’s metal hand finds its way to your hair, fisting them and pushing you further down in his cock. Your nose is touching his lower stomach when he is balls deep inside your mouth. You move your tongue along the underside of his shaft, swallowing harshly with his cock in your throat. Your saliva is dripping out of the corner of your mouth, coating your chin, and falling down on your pants, soaking the fabric.
“Looking so good with your mouth stuffed with my cock. Fuck, so pretty, my little cock drunk slut,” he says, pulling you off his cock until only his tip is resting in your mouth. You twirl your tongue around it, sliding it over his slit, before he pushes his cock back into your mouth, making you gag around his huge length.
Your fingers are digging into his thick thighs. Bucky throws his head back while he holds you on his cock. Your tongue sticking out so you can slide it along the underside of his cock and his Balls. You swallow harshly around his huge cock. When you tap his thigh two times, he pushes you off his cock, letting you inhale deeply before he pushes you back onto his length. His thrust forward, thrusting deeper down your throat, and his balls hit your chin. Bucky's length is covered in saliva, dripping down on his balls.
“Take daddy's cock, fucking little slut. Looking so good with your mouth stuffed with my cock. Fuck— suck my balls, doll. Take it all like the little whore you are,” Bucky grunts. His cock is twitching in your mouth when he thinks about your pretty mouth filled with his cock and balls. He pushes you off of his cock, grasping your chin to tilt your head back and look into your face.
Your eyes are watering, trails of tears are falling down from your cheeks, and drool is all over your chin. Bucky moans loudly when he looks at you, his other hand stroking your cheek before he pulls it away to slap you across the face, causing more tears in your eyes. With his metal thumb, he strokes your cheek softly, his hand still holding your chin, and he smirks at you.
“Fucking love when you’re crying for my cock. And now take my balls in your mouth, whore.” With that, he lets go of your chin. You moan softly, your hand grabbing his balls, and you roll them softly into your hand. Low groans leave Bucky's lips while he looks at you playing with his heavy balls. You lick over his balls, wrapping your lips around his balls, and suck softly at them.
Bucky thrusts his hips forward, his dick sliding over your face. You slowly take more of his balls into your mouth, twirling your tongue around them. Your boyfriend groans, grasping your hair again, his other hand wrapping around the base of his cock, and he pushes you back to push his cock into your mouth as well.
“Pretty mouth too small to take Daddy's cock and his balls? Be my good little whore and take it, fuck— take my cock, bitch,” he groans. Bucky thrusts his hips forward, his dick gliding down your throat, and he takes his balls in his hand to push them to his dick into your mouth.
Your hands are still placed on his thighs, grounding yourself while you feel his cock twitching in your mouth. “Feeling my cock twitching, my balls are so fucking heavy.”
You swallow his length, feeling his pre-cum sliding down your throat, and you moan around his length. Bucky gasps at the sudden vibration around his cock, pushing his dick deeper into your mouth. “Bet my pussy is dropping, wanting my cock so fucking deep inside my pretty pussy. Yeah, you’re fucking mine, and your fucking pussy belongs to me and only to me.”
Groaning loudly and another thrust of his hips Bucky comes into your mouth, his cock twitching, and he pushes his cum down your throat. You swallow his cum, moaning softly about the salty taste of him, while you still suck his cock until his balls are empty and you have eaten everything of his load.
Bucky pulls his cock out of your mouth, letting go of your hair so you can inhale deeply. With your tongue, you lick over your lips. Bucky breathes heavily, his cock softening.
“Clean the mess you made.” You smirk, licking over his length and balls, cleaning them. Bucky slides his hand through your hair, watching you while you take all of his cum. “Good girl, you're my good, pretty girl.”
When you lean back, you look at him, your eyes meeting, and you smile when you see the pride glistening in his beautiful blue eyes. Bucky waits for you to get up, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you as close as possible against him. His lips trail over your neck, nibbling and biting softly. You moan quietly, tilting your head to the side to give him more space. His lips and teeth grace your soft skin, causing goosebumps all over your body.
“Doing so well, doll. Now let's run us a bath and take good care of you and of my pretty pussy,” he whispers, kissing you. Then he picks you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist, feeling his dick against your pussy. A quiet whimper leaves your lips, and Bucky carries you into the bathroom, placing you on the edge of the bathtub.
“Pink or blue bubbles?” He asks, holding both up for you to pick. You grin, taking both and letting both fluids flow into the bathtub. Bucky laughs, taking off his shirt, then looking for two towels. While he does so, you take off your clothes as well, get into the bathtub, and lean back. There is a big grin on your lips when Bucky looks at you with a raised eyebrow.
“Think you sit between my legs,” you say with a grin on your lips. Bucky places the towels to the side before he takes a step closer, leaning closer until he is at the height of your ear.
“Hope you didn’t forget who you’re talking to, babydoll,” Bucky says in such a calm tone that you shiver. His breath hits your ear and neck, and you moan softly, immediately moving forward so your boyfriend can get into the bathtub behind you. “Good girl.”
Bucky’s hands rest on your hips when he pulls you closer; his cock is already hard again, and you whimper when he presses his length against your back. His metal hand snakes over your belly and lower to your pussy.
You press your back closer to his chest, your hips bucking forward when he slides his fingers through your folds. Bucky plays with your clit, rubbing small circles on it before pinching your sensitive spot. His other hand grasps your breast, playing with your nibble, twirling it softly between his fingers.
“Bucky, please,” you moan, arching your back. He lets go of you, earning a frustrated groan. “Daddy, please.”
“So desperate, huh?” He asks teasingly, but places his hands back where they belong. His metal finger slides further down to your entrance, two of his fingers circling it, before he pushes one digit against your entrance, slowly entering you. “So tight, it makes me go crazy. My cock’s so hard again, and my balls are so heavy. Fucking imagine your pussy squeezing around me or your tight ass. Yeah, that’s what you like, my big cock in your tight ass.”
He pushes his finger deeper inside of you, feeling you immediately clench around him. Bucky moves his fingers slowly, curling them before he adds another finger. You grasp his arm, digging your fingers into it, and moan loudly. Back arched and pussy squeezing Bucky’s finger hard, sucking them deeper inside of you.
“My pussy loves my fingers, squeezing me so well,” he groans, pumping his fingers in and out of you. Bucky curls his fingers, hitting your sweet spot. “There it is, your sweet spot, fucking love your moans, and that tight pussy.”
Your boyfriend adds another finger, his thumb rubbing your clit in small circles. His other hand was still wrapped around your breast, pinching your nibble. Your head is thrown back against Bucky’s shoulder, and your lips are slightly parted while you pant.
With every thrust of his fingers, he hits your sweet spot, bringing you closer to the edge. You feel the pleasure growing in your lower stomach. “Daddy, please. Can I come?”
“Come, all over my fingers. Now!” Bucky groans. His lips are gazing over the soft skin of your neck. When he bites you, the band inside of you snaps, and you come all over his fingers.
You whine loudly, moaning Bucky's name and arching your back, pressing your pussy more against his fingers. Your pussy is squeezing Bucky violently when he thrusts his fingers at a slow pace into you, fucking you through your orgasm.
“You look so pretty when you come; I could watch you come over and over again,” he whispers into your ear, removing his fingers. You whimper about the sudden emptiness inside your pussy. Bucky kisses your neck softly while you calm down from your high, his hands moving in slow movements over your sides and stomach.
“Doing so well for me, pretty girl. I love you,” he mumbles, smirking against your skin. His fingers are caressing your skin softly.
“I love you too, Bucky,” you say, tilting your head to meet Bucky’s lips. His soft, plump lips press against yours, his tongue sliding over your lips before he drags it between them, smirking into the kiss. His hands grasping your hips and pulling him closer, dick rubbing against you before he lifts you up and positions you over his cock, letting you down on it slowly, while feeling your walls clench around him and a soft moan escapes your lips.
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// Taglist //
@kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @pono-pura-vida @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @nervouseden @jiyascepter @princesscore-angel
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sapphire-writes · 1 year
Text
My Dragon ~ Aemond x wife!Reader
warnings: mentions of Aemond's eye injury, some angst & fluff
word count: 1.0k
note: pure fluffy dad!Aemond goodness! was stuck on this idea for a while, hope you enjoy this little piece!
masterlist
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You returned to your chambers after a long day, desperate for nothing more than a long, hot bath and the soft furs of the bed you shared with your husband. You had spent the day with your good sister Helaena. Though once only sisters through friendship, you were truly sisters now after the marriage to her younger brother. 
As you opened the doors to your chambers, it was unusually quiet. You closed the door behind you, listening to the crackling of the hearth. You spot the back of Aemond’s head, seated on the settee facing the dancing flames. His head is angled downwards; no doubt he has stayed up late with his nose in a book as you often find him. 
Though he never admits it after the fact, you’d caught him on more than one occasion fast asleep on the settee or in his chair, a book open-faced in his lap. 
You smile softly as you approach, careful not to startle him. 
“My love…” you call softly, to which Aemond turns his head. 
He purses his lips slightly, bringing a hand to his mouth shushing you. Your eyebrows concave together in confusion, which ebbs as you walk closer. Aemond has forgotten his usual book this evening; instead, your sleeping daughter rests her head on his lap, fast asleep, her small chest rising and falling with each breath. 
Her silver curls are splayed every which way, her nose whistling with every breath she exhales. 
“It is late my love,” you playfully tease, keeping your voice a low whisper so as not to wake her.
“I know,” Aemond says, his voice just as soft, “We lost track of time.”
You smile, walking behind him to place your hands on his shoulders. Though only in her fourth year of life, your little dragon has the Targaryen prince wrapped around her little finger. Aemond brings a hand to rest on top of yours, pulling it from his shoulder and pressing a gentle kiss on the back of your hand. 
“Did you have a nice time?” he murmurs against the back of your hand, his breath causing gooseflesh to appear. 
You hum in response. “I did. You know how I enjoy spending time with Helaena. Though I must admit, my legs do ache.”
You had spent most of the day walking through the gardens with the princess, helping her add to her collection of curious creatures and oddities. You loved Helaena’s hobbies and were more than happy to indulge her. But the day was long under the hot summer sun, and it left you eager for bed. 
“Shall I call for someone to draw you a bath?” Aemond asks as you lean to rest your chin on his shoulder.
“It tis alright,” you assure him, “Do not trouble yourself.”
“It is no trouble, you know this,” he insists, glancing at you sideways. You made sure to rest upon the shoulder where he can see you with his functioning eye. 
You remove your hand from him, caressing the leather eyepatch he wears. 
“You must be uncomfortable,” you tell him softly, stroking the worn leather. It begins to irritate him on days such as this one when the heat causes the leather to chafe the skin of his cheek. 
The weather is strange these days, getting so hot during the day and then dropping significantly during the night. Aemond’s violet eye flickers down at your sleeping child. How perfect she looks, the perfect combination of both of you. A miracle made of your love. You sense his hesitation.
“She shall not be afraid, my love,” you assure him.
“How can you know?” he says, looking down away from your comforting gaze. 
Aemond had always been fearful of how others reacted to his injury. You remembered in your youth before he had begun courting you, how you’d learned of why he wore the patch. It was Helaena who informed you that Aemond wished to not frighten the ladies of the court.
“Prince Aemond should not wish for a weak stomached woman anyhow,” you had snapped, as other ladies had snickered at his injury. “Women say they wish to marry a warrior, then faint at the scars from battle. How distasteful.” 
Helaena had told Aemond how you’d come to his defense. You’d been the apple of the Prince’s eye ever since. Well, until the birth of your little one. Two women now completely owned the dragon prince’s heart. 
“A mother’s intuition,” you assure him, moving to remove the patch. Aemond freezes for a moment but relaxes into your touch as you place the eyepatch on the table, revealing his magnificent sapphire. 
You stroke your finger along the scar, admiring how the sapphire reflects the light from the hearth. 
“My dragon,” you murmur, cupping his sharp chin in your hand, and pressing a gentle kiss to the scarred tissue. 
Aemond sighs, his chest rumbling. You can see a flicker of desire in his violet eye at your praise. Your daughter stirs then, perfect face scrunching as her pale lashes flutter open. She looks up at you with wide violet eyes before throwing her small arms around your neck.
“Muña!” she says sleepily, arms heavy around your neck. 
“Hello my love,” you softly croon, pulling her completely into your arms, “How was your day?”
She buries her face into the crook of your neck and you inhale the lilac scent of her hair. How you enjoy the moments with your companions, but oh how you miss your daughter by the end.
“We went exploring all day! And we went flying on Vhagar,” she chatters away, “Sunfyre even joined us! Kepus flew right next to us!”
“Did he now?” you ask with a chuckle. Aegon was a surprisingly delightful uncle. 
Aemond stands then, still facing slightly away. You reach for his hand, pulling him closer. Your daughter looks at him, the smile never leaving her face. Aemond turns his head slowly, revealing the scarred tissue and brilliant sapphire. You hold your breath, waiting for your little girl’s reaction. 
She stares, unblinking, before reaching out to touch his face. 
“Blue is my favorite color,” she informs, turning back to you, “Did you know Sunfyre likes to sing? I don’t think Vhagar enjoys singing, her songs are rather deep. It shakes the windows of the Keep! Muñāzma was quite cross with her!”
You glance at your husband, watching his cheeks turn red. You smile so brightly that your cheeks begin to ache. There was never anything for him to fear. She adores him all the same.
As do you.
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mandarinmoons · 2 months
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SLUMBER PARTY WITH REID!!
brainiac bsf surprises you when your feeling down with the idea of sleep over. pretty boy has never had a sleep over, but boy does he wanna sleep over with you. he suggests a movie and chinese takeout but you’ve got things to add to that list. you get him to do face masks with you and convince him to let you paint his nails pink and he feigns annoyance but he’s actually just happy to see you in a happy mood. you best bet he will be shy coming into work with those rose colored nails, that he isn’t a fan of, but at least his face is as smooth as a baby’s bum 😭😭
“Spence, hold still or else I’ll get the nail polish on your fingers!”
Spencer sighed as you tightened your grip on his hand and carefully applied the pink paint on his fingernails. He smiled to himself seeing how your tongue poked out of your mouth in concentration, he thought you looked adorable.
This is not how he expected his evening to go. Spencer mentioned how he’s never been to a sleepover before and suggested having one seeing how you’d been a bit down lately. What he thought would be you two cuddling under the sheets, having some take out while watching a movie, turned into something else very fast. The second you heard the word “sleepover” your mind went straight to doing face masks and painting each other’s nails, which you were currently doing. 
“Okay and… done! Don’t touch them for a few minutes to let them dry.”
Spencer’s eyebrows knitted together as he tried to get used to the feeling of the polish on his fingers. It looked nice but the fumes were making him feel a bit dizzy, but he didn’t say a word to you as he saw how happy you seemed for the first time in a while.
This is going to be fun explaining to Morgan
“How does your face feel?”
“It feels a bit… tight,” Spencer’s answer was mumbled as the clay mask he had on made it hard to move his face. You chuckled as you saw him try to move his face in order to gain some sort of feeling back, but the beauty product rendered it useless.
“That means it’s time to take it off. Let me help.”
You took a damp washcloth and gently ran it over Spencer’s face, removing the mask and the impurities it took with it.
Spencer felt as though he could fall asleep right then and there, you ran the cloth over his face so lightly and he felt so well loved and taken care of. He didn’t think humans had the ability to be this tender until he met you.
“All nice and clean,” you ran your thumb over his cheek, feeling the effect the mask left on his skin.
“It feels nice.”
“It does, doesn’t it?”
Spencer nodded and you kissed his cheek, your lips barely making contact with his skin. Spencer reached out and pulled you closer to him, your nose squishing against his cheek in the process which caused both of you to laugh.
“I’m really glad we did this.”
“I am too.”
Taking Spencer’s hand into your own, you ran your thumb over his fingers, taking in the hard work you put into them.
“Hmm…”
“What’s wrong?”
“I made a mistake.”
“What do you mean? I think they look nice.”
“No, I mean yeah they look good, but this is so not your color.”
Spencer rolled his eyes as you chuckled and kissed his cheek again.
“It only means I get to paint your nails again.”
“Whatever it takes to make you happy, angel.”
Taglist: @radioactiveinvisible @whoisspence @sreidisms @lanascinnamongirls @luvkatryna @sp3ncelle @iluvreid @khxna @keiva1000 @reidstheyfriend @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @cynbx @kimm4710 @niktwazny303 @reidsdaisies @mindfullycriminal @cumulo-stratus @themarauderseraslut @gayfor-rosadiaz @gubsbuubs @multifandomsimp69 @chyozai @deppfanatic @potatovoyager @indyvelazquez @nini123 @justlivinginadaydream @kers505
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propertyofwicked · 2 months
Text
LEARN - OP
summary: oscar finally gets to show his girlfriend what he's been reading about (part 2 to this - but can be read as stand alone!)
warnings: smut! MDNI! fingering, orgasm denial (sorry), again - smut, not proof read
masterlist the playlist
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oscar rarely found himself with a break between races, and yet instead of spending his free time on the track or in the gym, he curled up on the couch with a book. not just any book, but one of the spicy, smut-filled novels his girlfriend loved. he wanted to understand, he wanted to learn.
"you're really getting into those, huh?" y/n teased, noticing the deep concentration on oscar's face.
"yeah, they're... interesting," he admitted, a faint blush on his cheeks.
y/n smiled and kissed the top of his head. "that's sweet, oscar."
a few days later, at the mclaren garage, lando couldn't help but notice oscar's new reading habit. he leaned over, peering at the cover of the book in oscar's hands.
"mate, are you reading... romance novels?" lando asked, an amused grin spreading across his face.
"y/n loves them, so i thought i'd give them a try,” oscar shrugged, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips.
lando chuckled, shaking his head. "you're becoming more like her every day."
y/n truly thought that the summer break meant that her and oscar would spend more time together and yet back at home, oscar was once again absorbed in one of her favourite books. y/n was wrong - he was so engrossed in the story that he didn't hear her calling his name, nor did he notice when she walked into the room, pausing in the doorframe with her hands on her hips and a loose smile playing in her lips.
"oscar? are you ignoring me for my own books now?" she asked, a playful glint in her eyes, causing oscar to glance up at her, slightly startled.
"sorry, these stories are just... really good."
y/n laughed, sitting down beside him, a hand coming to rest on his shoulder as she peered over to look at the chapter he was on.
"i'm glad you like them," she started, “be careful with this bit it’s a bit…full on..”
“full on? like….” he replied with a smirk, his eyebrows raising as he looked at her, “full on?”
“i’m talking like biting and shit…” she trailed off, shifting to rest her head on her hand, her hair brushing against oscar’s neck briefly.
“oh that’s nothing compared to the last book i read.”
“oh yeah? what did you learn in that one?”
“i could show you…” he said, turning his face to look into her eyes, “if you want?”
“yeah?”
“yeah.”
nothing more needed to be said in the moment as oscar’s lips moved to join hers, softly at first, as though he were testing the waters. his hand gripped at her thigh, pulling it towards him and slinging it over his own. his fingers trailed along the expanse on her thigh, drawing patterns that trailed her skin, dipping momentarily beneath the fabric of her shorts. y/n rocked her hips slowly, feeling the tensed muscle of oscar’s thigh on her heat, her hands gripping at his shoulders as he slipped his tongue into her opened mouth.
he pulled back slowly, his teeth nipping at her bottom lip, pulling it with him before letting go. y/n head fell to oscar’s neck, kissing the skin beneath his ear as his hands moved her hips so she straddled his lap entirely. he struggled with the button of her shorts for moment before popping it open and dragging her zip down tantalisingly slow, his hand sneaking behind the fabric and pressing the pads of his fingers onto her clothed clit.
“osc..please,” she begged.
“patience, sweet girl,” he replied, removing his hand to hold her face and press a kiss to her cheeks, her forehead, and her nose before moving to her lips. oscar moved his hands back to her waist, pulling at her body till she lay beneath him on the sofa, her hair fanning around her head like a halo.
his fingertips loomed on the waist band of her shorts, pulling them back only to let them slap back on her skin causing her to whimper in frustration again. his lips landed on her neck, pressing a trail of kisses down her skin, over her t-shirt and finally down to the cotton of her shorts that his fingers were slowly pulling down her legs, underwear in tow.
“so pretty,” he told her, leaning back to sit on in front of her, gazing down at her heat.
“stop complimenting me and do something,” y/n started, wriggling her hips towards him in desperation, “please.”
“you’re never normally this impatient,” oscar replied, chuckling lightly as he ran his fingers through her folds, her slick coating them almost instantly.
“you never normally take this long,” she huffed, crossing her arms across her chest in defeat.
“oh, im sorry - did you have plans?” he asked, beginning to stroke small circles into her clit as he did.
“well no bu-”
“then you can wait,” he interrupted bluntly. slowly, his fingers dipped in her folds, dancing around her entrance quickly before returning to circling her heat once more. she wasn’t going to argue, she liked this new side to oscar, as though she had sculpted this change in demeanour by encouraging him to read the books she loved so much. strangely, she felt relaxed, her mind had gone blank in calm waves of pleasure from his gentle ministrations, and her eyes closed just taking in the bliss. had her eyes been open, she may have noticed the way oscar stared down at her, eyes flicking from his fingers, to her face and back to his fingers that he was now pushing into her slowly.
her back arched at the intrusion, helping the digits reach the spot that had her mewling his name before he retracted them slowly, repeating the action over and over again at a tantalising pace. her hips wriggled beneath him, desperate for something, anything.
“please osc,” she begged.
“fine,” he huffed, though exaggerated, his fingers speeding up suddenly and curling up into her, his free hand moving to toy with her clit, pinching it lightly, rolling it between his fingers and then finally, drawing patterns into her. oscar’s gaze stayed focused on her heat, in awe at the sight of his fingers disappearing into her and coming out covered in her slick that glistened in the evening sun.
“so good f’me, aren’t you?” he told her, moving the hand away from her clit to push at the fabric of her shirt, as she nodded at him, “taking my fingers like you take my cock,” he added, pushing a strand of hair from her face.
“feels good,” she replied, panting lightly as oscar’s hand pushed her shirt up further, exposing her breasts to him. he wasted no time placing one in his mouth, flicking his tongue over her nipple, nipping at the skin with his teeth. y/n’s hand fell to his head, pulling at his hair desperately trying to ground herself as his fingers continued their brutal pace inside her. the sensitivity spread across her whole body, as she felt waves of her orgasm approaching quicker than ever before.
“fuck, osc, please,” she begged, though not sure what she was asking for.
“you gonna cum on my fingers, baby?” he asked her, leaning over to attach his lips to hers, feeling the way she gasped into his mouth at the sudden feeling of him pushing deep into her, rubbing deep circles into her sensitivity as his thumb found her clit once more, mirroring the actions of his fingers.
“y-yes fuck, i’m gonn-” she started, feeling her walls contracting around oscar’s fingers as her high approached her, “fuck.”
her hips raised quickly, and dropped back just as quick, grinding up into oscar’s palm as though he was going to disappear. she felt herself reaching bliss, until she didn’t. oscar removed his fingers slowly, but surely, placing them in his mouth momentarily.
“open up, baby,” he told her, sliding his digits into her mouth and along her tongue for her to taste herself. though he didn’t need to tell her to open up, her mouth already hung open in the shock at having her orgasm ripped away from her so suddenly.
“what the fuck, oscar?” she finally asked him as his hands moved back to her hips.
“what do you mean?”
“wha-? why? what do you mean? why would you do that?”
“well you said you didn’t have any plans,” he replied, as though his reasoning was obvious.
“…and that means i can’t cum?” she replied, more confused than angry.
“no? it means you have all evening to earn it,” oscar replied, standing from the couch and extending a hand for her to take, guiding her towards the bedroom.
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brainddeadd · 2 months
Text
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Lovin' you right
Jungkook x fem!reader
smut scenario 6: marathon session (they just fucking keep going, babyyyy)
warnings: oral (m & f receiving and giving), unprotected sex (pls don't), breeding kink, daddy kink, face sitting, he puts a hand on her throat but its not choking, aftercare (always, no matter what) - let me know if I'm missing anything
not proofread
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It's a rare week of for Jungkook, and he has so many plans for you. Plans that include him giving you all of the attention he hasn't been able to the past few weeks.
He knows the time apart has been stressful and that you've been missing him. He plans to fix that.
Weight of the world on your shoulders
I kiss your waist and ease your mind
I must be favored to know ya
I take my hands and trace your lines
Jungkook's placing kisses to your skin, his hands removing your clothes gently, tongue leaving a trail of spit in his wake.
"Cookie-"
"Not my name, baby." Eyebrows rising in shock as he continues to trail across your body, hands finding their way to your pussy, tattooed fingers running through the folds.
"Daddy," you sigh and his cock jumps in his boxers, groaning at the name.
"Good girl," he shuffles down the bed, somehow making the awkward movement look attractive, holding you by the hips as he moves you with him. "Gotta make up for neglecting my baby."
He moves his hands to your pussy, but you stop him and his eyes shoot to yours, confusion evident on his face.
"Just wanna be close, you can play later." He nods and scrambles to remove his clothes, lacking his usual finesse.
Hovering over you, he runs the tip of his cock through your folds, making sure to press it into your clit.
"Plsase, don't make me wait any longer, please-" he can see tears pooling in your eyes, and that just won't do. Kissing you gently, he presses his tip to your entrance, pressing further into your pussy as he make the kiss sloppier. You whine when he bottoms out, hands finding his hips and holding him close.
Once he's sure you've adjusted to his size after so long, he makes quick work of pistoning his hips into yours, his chest moving over yours as he thrusts. All you can manage is little "ah" sounds amongst the squeals when his tip prods at that spot that makes you see stars.
"Fuck fuck gonna cum gonna cum-"
"Not yet, wait baby," you whine at his command but do your best to obey, body shaking when he slips his tattooed fingers over your clit. "Where do you want it baby?"
"In my pussy daddy, fill me up!" Even though he knew you'd say that, beg for it, he still groans as if it's the first time, body pressing further into yours.
"Cum all over my cock, pretty baby."
You love when I jump right in, all of me, I'm offering
Show you what devotion is, deeper than the ocean is
Wind it back, I'll take it slow, leave you with that afterglow
Show you what devotion is, deeper than the ocean is
He loves to taste you.
Normally, Jungkook has you on your back, writhing around, unsure if you want to chase the pleasure or run from it.
Today, he's got hovering on your knees, cunt directly over his face, and he's practically begging you to sit.
"Baby, you said I could play, so sit down- fuck, just give me- sit-" he huffs, hands hooking around your thighs, and he yanks, a squeal leaving your lips as the shock and the sudden feeling of his lips on your pussy sends your body falling forwards. He pays no attention as he laps at your folds. He's moaning into your cunt as he holds you firmly to his face, his nose bumping into your clit forcefully.
He's got you shaking in minutes, your hand in his hair and the other holding his hand on your thigh. He speaks into your pussy, lewd comments about how good it tastes and how messy it is, just for him.
"Ah ah, fuck I'm gonna cum-" you've barely finished getting the words out when the tension in your stomach is breaking and your flooding his mouth with cum, that he happily laps up, satisfied moans leaving his mouth at the taste.
Open up, say, "Ah"
Come here, baby, let me swallow your pride
You love to taste him.
Love to treat him right and worship him.
Your mouth is on his cock before he can process the lack of weight on his face. His hips buck at the sudden unexpected touch, and he groans as you swirl your tongue around his tip.
"Baby, you don't need to-"
"Shut up and let me suck your cock." His rebuttal cut off by the feeling of your nose hitting his public bone, and your cheeks hollowing to suck on his cock.
"Ah shit, fuck baby-" his hips buck, the movements getting faster when he sees you relax your throat and face to take his thrusts.
"Fuck, baby wants daddy to fuck her face? Use her like a fleshlight to get off?" You moan around his length in confirmation and he chuckles slightly, hands moving your hair off your face. "Alright baby, but remember, you asked for it."
His thrusts are brutal, hands holding your head still and he can see the bulge of his cock in your throat. One of his hands moves down to circle around your beck, feeling the way his cock moves from the outside.
"Shit, fuck, baby-" his hips buck a final time into your throat as he cums, thighs shaking and stomach tensing.
You know night after night, I'll be fuckin' you right
"Daddy I need your cock please give me your cock I'll be so good I promise please I need your cock need you fill me up so good wanna be dripping with your cum please daddy I need your cock need you daddy daddy please please fuck me I need you please please daddy I'm begging-"
You're not sure what you're begging for. He's already fucking you, his hips slapping into yours from behind, hands holding your hips so tightly there's sure to be bruises. There's cum leaking from your pussy onto the bed and your thighs, creamy and sticky on your skin.
"Pretty baby's gone dumb from my cock," Jungkook laughs slightly but it's cut off with a moan when you clench your pussy around his cock again, hands raking down his back. "Fuck baby, greedy pussy wants my cum again."
He hooks your legs over his shoulders and shifts so he can press his hips further into you, hips pounding into yours at a dizzying speed.
"Gonna fill your pretty pussy up, make sure your dripping with my cum."
"Please please please please-"
You know night after night, I'll be lovin' you right
The bath is running when you come to, Jungkook's hands soothing over your hair, gentle kisses being pressed to your cheeks.
"Let's go clean up baby," he carries you to the bath and cradles you against his chest, humming softly to your favourite song, hands soothing over the bruises he's left on your skin.
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wriothesleysgf · 1 year
Text
THRONE. ryomen sukuna.
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cws: [ex]plicit content - mdni . monsterfucking (true form sukuna), overstimulation, dacryphilia, degradation, pet names (mostly gn except two uses of princess), ds dynamics, possessivenes, sadomasochism, double penetration, cunnilingus, finger sucking, subspace, creampies, some aftercare.
notes: this is gonna get t*gg3d since it's pure filth, so reblogs are rly appreciated lol.
wc: 1.7k
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"𝐒𝐔'- '𝐒 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇! 𝐂𝐀𝐍'𝐓- 𝐂𝐀𝐍'𝐓 𝐃𝐎 𝐈𝐓!" you squealed, writhing in sukuna's hold.
you were sitting on his lap on the throne of his domain, facing him. though your clothes had been long since discarded, sukuna's trousers were only pulled down enough for him to be fisting both of his cocks simultaneously. the fortunate thing about being a cursed being with four arms was that he could continue to restrain you as he prepared himself for you.
"fucking brat," he spat, "you aren't going back on your word now. i despise liars and weaklings, and what was it you said, hmm? what got you into this situation, slut?"
he cocked an eyebrow at you, and you looked into his many eyes before replying in a hushed whisper. although sukuna had heard you perfectly fine the time before, he wanted to play with his food before absolutely devouring it. "speak up, pet. do what you're told."
"i-" you stuttered, shaking in fear at the curse's predatory gaze. you then cleared your throat, mustering every ounce of strength necessary for you to speak up. "i said i could take both of your cocks at once, sir..."
"and?" oh, he was truly cruel.
"i don' wanna say,"
"and why's that, brat?" despite maintaining his callous demeanour, sukuna became focused on scanning your expression and body language for any true signs of discomfort - he didn't wish to take things too far with such a precious thing such as yourself.
"'s embarrassing."
he scoffed at your meek response, amused that he'd thought you were uncomfortable when you were merely embarrassed. how human of you.
one of sukuna's hands let go of his cock, not bothering to wipe off the drops of precum mixed with spit that stained his fingers. he drew it back, before landing a harsh slap against your cheek. "you speak when spoken to, bitch. do you understand?"
his thumb moved to rest on your chin, angling your gaze to face him. he waited for you to state a clear "yes, sir," before slipping his thumb between your lips. instinctively, you began to suck on the tip of the digit, eyes remaining on sukuna's face.
"good pet. . . that will be your only warning. any further infractions will be met with ample punishment. now," he removed his wet thumb from your mouth, shifting it to rest on your swollen clit. he chuckled darkly as his long, thick fingers inspected your sloppy folds. "i was going to make you ride my boot, yet you're already dripping like a bitch in heat." sukuna then leaned back, loosening his grip both on you and allowing his cocks to lazily bounce against his toned stomach. "come on, princess. claim your throne."
for a moment, you questioned the cursed being. typically he enjoyed bullying his girth into you, so surely this had to be some kind of trap, right? regardless, the urge to satiate the emptiness that you felt between your legs was so immense that, without further questioning, you shifted to hover over both of sukuna's cocks.
you began with just the one on top, gripping its base and rubbing the tip through your folds before aligning it with your entrance. this action earned you a warning glare, a promise that you'd be punished if you made another movement that could be interpreted as teasing sukuna. though that hadn’t been your sole intention, you took it on the nose and continued the feat of getting his inhumane cock into yourself.
sukuna’s head lolled back, clearly enjoying himself as you managed to push the tip of him into your warm walls. his cockhead dragged across your sweet spot, causing your cunt to flutter around him. it took each little bit of self control for the curse not to grip your hips and force you to take the rest, then begin to bounce you around like a human fleshlight, though he managed to keep it together… mostly. occasionally, he would thrust his hips upwards very slightly, masking his own desperation with a gruff “hurry up”.
slowly but surely, you managed to work your way down his thick length, with your legs trembling by the time he was bottomed out inside of you. no matter how many times he’d fucked you before, it still burned ever so slightly. the out of character benevolence once again showed itself in the form of a thumb on your clit, a hand on the small of your back, and another nonchalantly dabbing at the odd stray tear that you’d shed as you grew accustomed to the stretch. soon enough, the pain dulled and was replaced by pure euphoria. you gave him the signal that you were fine to continue, and thus the barbarity returned.
“tight fuckin’ cunt,” sukuna growled, “i’m practically splitting you in half, pet, and we haven’t even made it to the main event.” he punctuated his mockery by conjuring a mouth on the palm of his hand, its hot tongue darting out to lick the remainder of tears from your wet cheeks. the salty taste was akin to ambrosia to the curse, the fact that he’d been the one to make you cry only turning him on moreso.
he wasn’t going to make you take his other cock yourself; instead, he let you haphazardly bounce on his length while he fisted the other a few times. you were too distracted to notice him spread a generous amount of lube over your tighter hole. he slid a finger past the taut ring of muscle, cooing over you in order to prevent you getting too antsy whilst he prepped your ass. sukuna didn’t reprimand you when you buried your face in the crook of his neck, rather he used it as further opportunity to get your pretty hole ready for his cock.
being with him in such a manner often resulted in you being subject to pain, though sukuna had trained his whore to crave the pleasure that shortly followed. therefore, you opted for biting on your lip and made no motion to tell him to stop when he progressed from scissoring your asshole open to gently working the tip of his secondary cock inside.
you whimpered at the sensation, another painful stretch that was slowly replaced with the feeling of being as full as you can be. two of sukuna’s strong arms tilted you backwards, easing more of himself into you. this was the last time that he would be tender, for you were beginning to exhibit a couple of a signs that you were nearing a point of overstimulation - the wide and teary eyes, the way that your bottom lip began to quiver, and the soft, sweet little cries that you tried and subsequently failed to muffle (much to sukuna’s delight).
“what a perfect whore,” he mused, “do you like both of my cocks in your little holes? no human could ever fuck you this good, you’re mine. my pet,”
he continued to spit a mixture of degrading and possessive phrases as two of his hands aided your hips, rocking you on his dual cocks. when you tilted yourself forward, it was a struggle not to collapse into sukuna’s arms. he picked up on this quickly, noticing you relying on his hold more with each passing moment. he then resorted to the sole method that he used with you: pain. once again, you received a harsh slap across the face, only this time, it was followed with another hand delivering a similarly mean spank to your ass. this caused you to clench around his cocks, earning a smirk from him.
“good bitch,” his words were laced with mischief and malice, “listen to my voice, don’t worry about anything else. just keep taking me like the worthless thing you are,”
countless names followed, with sukuna successfully distracting you from his current antics. it wasn’t until you felt his warm tongue against your clit that you noticed what he had done.
the curse had conjured a mouth on his lower stomach, positioned perfectly to lap at your drooling cunt while you fucked yourself on him. such feeling was the final nail in the coffin, and your movements grew sloppy, a sign that you were nearing you high. not bothered about chiding you and instead appreciating that dumb little look on your pretty face, sukuna placed his upper two hands under your arms, with the lower ones remaining on your hips. he lifted you up and down, forcing you to take all of him with each rotation.
“my fucking slut, my cockwhore, my sweet toy,”
repetitive rambles fell from sukuna’s lips as he continued to toy with your body like you were nothing. the both of you were nearing your respective high, and sukuna, knowing your body expertly at this point, nipped at your clit, then proceeded to suck the puffy bud - something that always drove you insane. your own words were reduced to incoherent babbles, brain turned to mush and legs to jelly as he continued to pump his cocks into you.
before you knew it, you were clenching around him, cumming with a loud cry as sukuna helped you ride it out. your body’s reactions drove him over the edge, cunt spasming around his cocks as he shot his loads into both of your holes. as much as he wanted to watch his seed dribble out of you, he knew that it was best to help you off of him, not caring about the mess on his lap.
he never really knew what to say during times like this, despite typically being a man with a sizeable vocabulary. so, he settled with holding you while you clung to him, your arms loosely wrapped around his torso and head buried in the crook of his neck. simply knowing that he let you hug him so tenderly was enough for you, because it showed that he cared about you even despite whatever harsh things he would say in the moment. the way that his arms awkwardly moved to return the embrace warmed your heart, and what more could a princess ask for?
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