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#it's thick and covers a big part of the other half of his face
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Everyone who draws gy without the monocle, I appreciate your efforts
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tiza0925 · 6 months
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Hello! I'm new to this but have you ever thought about any of your favorite characters while they're in the act and you look down at a certain part and they're so big on you that it scares you but they're pretty sure it could fit.I don't know if you could write something like that, sorry if it makes you uncomfortable.
hellooo, absolutely love this prompt so much ty for this ♡
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men that make it fit | 18+
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warnings/tags: nsfw, afab/female!reader, size difference, fingering, pet names, praise kink, squirting, raw sex, implied multiple orgasms, large cocks ♡
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
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Big men who just cover your entire body with theirs when they’re on top of you. 
Guys who make you feel so small when you’re on their lap, their hands are so damn big that they can cover your entire waist, legs, and hands—practically engulfing you. 
Big men that just pin you to the mattress while making out with you, they’re so strong without needing to try, and you probably should feel scared by the difference in strengths but god—you feel so secure. 
And you know he’ll take care of you even if he can hurt you sometimes—never on purpose unless you want it—because of how massive he is. 
Guys who feel just a little bad when they hear you cry from them pushing their thick fingers inside you—stretching your poor cunt and making you leak all over his hand as he curls his fingers inside your plush walls, coaxing out a throbbing orgasm from you. 
“Such a sweet little thing for me,” You hear him murmur, watching as your face twists with pleasure, and he can see the slight worry in your eyes as he fucks you with his fingers. “My baby is taking me so well already.” 
But can you take his cock? 
Fuck—what if it’s too big? 
It must be—his fingers are already too much for you—his dick will be nearly impossible to fit inside you. 
“You think you can be good and take my cock?” You whine, feeling heady and muddy as he pins both of your hands above your head on the bed, while his other hand continues to twist and curl inside you, his thumb pressing and rubbing your swollen clit. “I want to feel my favourite pussy, sweetheart.” 
But you suck in a shaky breath, eyes wide and scared because you know you can’t fit all of him in, and he chuckles breathlessly as he kisses your lips so softly, making you melt against him. 
“Don’t be scared,” He kisses your cheek, then gives your trembling lower lip a gentle pull with his mouth, trying to get you relaxed as he strums his fingers through your sopping folds, his voice low and deceptively soothing. “I’ll be gentle with you, okay?” 
He always is—and that’s the thing. 
No matter how gentle he tries to be—he still ends up stretching you so wide that you think you might actually split in half, the sting of him inside you being too much that you cry sometimes.
He kisses you, and reassures you, hand running up and down your body to spread goosebumps all over your skin. 
Then he’s pushing his pants off to let his fat cock bounce free—it lands on your belly, all hot and heavy, and your breath hitches as electricity sparks through your body—and your heart rate doubles with every passing moment, just waiting for him to stuff you with his cock. 
“Relax for me,” He says while guiding his dick to slide between your plush pussy, letting your slick folds hug his length and coat them in juices as he rocks his hips—his cock head bumping against your clit every time his hips are flushed against yours. 
“You feel that, baby?” Your lashes flutter, your eyes half-lidded as he works you up, making your cunt pulse as he glides his heavy cock over it. “You’re gonna be so good and fit all of me, okay?” 
You gulp, but you still nod—because you want to be good for him. 
You want to feel him and make him feel good. 
And he watches you, focused, taking in every twitch of your features as he slowly pushes the head of his dick inside you—his eyes alight with heat when he sees the way your mouth pops open with a gasp, already feeling the intense stretch of him. 
“You’re okay, baby,” he shushes you, sliding his hands under your thighs to guide them around his waist, and you whine as you hook your arms around his neck, bringing him closer, sloppily kissing him as he waits for you to adjust. “You feel so tight already—fuck—”
He groans, his voice vibrating against you, and you begin to breathe heavily as he pushes his fat cock into you—making you feel every agonizing inch as your pussy struggles to swallow him whole. 
“I—“ Your sentence gets cut short as you choke, already feeling him in your lungs and he’s only halfway in, “I can’t—”
“You can,” One of his hands comes up to swipe a fallen tear on your cheek with his thumb, while his other hand pins you to the bed by the waist. “I know you can, baby, you always did before.”
Which is true—you always did but—
It’s just so fucking big—holy shit—
You bite your lip, and your eyes squeeze shut as you try your hardest to relax—your fluids being pushed out as he lodges his dick inside your warm, plush walls, causing a wet mess all over your thighs and bed. 
You hold him as if you’re clinging onto dear life—taking all of him as he kisses you through it—until his hips finally press against your ass, his cock so deep that your limbs grow numb and you swear you can orgasm already. 
“There you go, sweetheart,” He purrs, waiting a moment as your pussy throbs around him, feeling abused and soaked, and he smiles down at you so achingly soft. “Taking me all like a good girl for me.” 
Then he pulls back—
“Oh god—” And you keen when he rocks his hips forward, sliding his cock along your walls, and he sets a pace of fucking you—getting you wet and your eyes to roll back as he becomes greedy with your pussy. 
“Look, baby,” He grunts, thrusting his cock in and out, his length coming out slick and creamy from your arousal, and he grips your face—fingers squishing your cheeks—to make you look down. “Look how well you’re taking me.” 
Your vision is foggy, you’re barely able to comprehend anything except for the dick inside your sore cunt, and you blink blearily as you try to look at what he wants you to see and—
Fuck.
You watch the way his cock disappears into your pussy, his girth forcing its way into you—and you let out a shaky breath at the way you’re taking it all in. 
Just like he said you would. 
“Told you I’ll make it fit, sweetheart, I always do,” You hear him murmur, and you force yourself to relax into a ragged breath as your limps melt into the mattress beneath you.
You feel like you’re being split in half as he fucks you over and over, bringing you higher and higher until you’re cumming all over him—gushing out liquid as you squirt on his cock with a wet moan, his name on your tongue—
And he takes good care of you throughout it all. His aftercare overwhelms you with cuddles of love and affirmation.
He loves you too much, anyway.
End.
Bokuto, Oikawa, Ushijima, Atsumu, Suna, Gojo, Choso, Sakusa, Geto, Sukuna, Nanami, Akaza, Oda, Kuroo, Hinata, plus any of your fav characters ♡
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urhoneycombwitch · 4 months
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foreword: have u ever had a buddy so good you jack off with him <3 roommate!Eddie x reader fic for ya. link to roommate!Eddie mlist here
cw: drug mention, R wears a bra, has breasts (implied to be large enough to “spill”) + V, no pronouns used only petnames, nipple play, R is queer (talks about Molly Ringwald in a sexual nature <3), praise kink, mutual masturbation, but as friends, we’re all normal here okay, we Do Not talk about our hidden feelings in this one soz
wc: 2.3k
___
An unfortunate shift of the pillows supporting your body pulls you from the depths of sleep, consciousness surfacing, breaching with a soft huffy groan. 
Waking up on a normal day is hard enough. Waking from a good dream, one where someone’s head was between your legs and everything was swelling lush with heat? Now that’s torture. 
You burrow the cold side of your face under the covers, eyes still screwed shut in defiance of being awoken before the dream could pay off. There’s a heartbeat pounding near the apex of your thighs; with one leg stretched out and the other draped around the curve of your body pillow, your hips roll forward automatically, seeking friction.
The soaked front of your underwear drags against the pillow’s seam, catching your clit on the next glide of your hips. Another soft moan, breath fanning from your parted lips. If you can stay in this grey area of sleep and waking, maybe the horniness will swallow your mind back to the dream…
When someone’s hand brushes your bare shoulder, your movements freeze. Goosebumps prickling in the palm-owner’s wake, you blink against the morning light pouring in through your bedroom window and try to orient yourself.
Your head is nestled in the curve of someone’s neck, left arm tucked secure around their chest. Leg hitched over their waist, cotton boxers band digging at the plush of your thigh- something else solid and warm trapped against their stomach.
A snuffle from your human body pillow, and the waking world hits you sideways, all at once- Eddie. You’d fallen asleep with Eddie last night, after helping him play-test a new hybrid strain and dancing to records all evening, until you both collapsed in a heap of giggles. In your bed. 
Which means that you’ve been humping Eddie’s leg in your sleep. And the thick length trapped under your thigh belongs to him, too. 
Before you can even fully process or think up an escape plan holding the least amount of embarrassment for you both, Eddie’s stretching the arm that isn’t cupping your shoulder up and out with a long yawn. 
His hips shift, pressing himself into your leg unintentionally, and you can feel the moan that rumbles through his body- at your ear, vibrating under your hand on his bare chest. Eddie mumbles something incoherent and sleep-addled, pulling you in closer, nosing at the crown of your head.
“Uh-” your voice comes out half-squeak, half-croak, not fully pushing off Eddie but keeping your frame tight enough to roll away at a moment’s notice. “H-hey.”
Eddie’s palm smooths down the plane of your upper back, stopping at the wide band of your bra. He makes another noise, this time a bit less sleepy- and then he, too, freezes, all those points of contact along the length of your own body stiffening, muscles tensed with realization. 
“Oh, fuck. Shit.”
Eddie’s voice is like rocks on pavement, three shades of gravelly, really not helping your whole ‘wet as a river’ situation, one that he can probably feel leaking onto his bare leg at this point. He doesn’t immediately roll away, though; he remains in that freeze-mode, tense and poised, holding you against the span of his side still.
Well. As frozen as one can be with a throbbing case of morning wood.
“I guess we… fell asleep,” you say, carefully, adopting the same cat-like stillness, the pause before a big leap. “Sorry-”
“You’re sorry? I’m sorry. Jesus.” Eddie uses the hand that’s not cradling your shoulder to scrub down his face. This close, nestled into his neck, you can feel his loose hair tickling your cheek, the light scratch of his day-old stubble against your forehead when he speaks. “I’m gonna… go take care of this. And then maybe. Breakfast? Christ. Can’t think. All my blood’s elsewhere right now.”
You breathe a chuckle. His arm is still wrapped around you. 
“Yeah. Okay. Or you could just- take care of it. Here, I mean. With me.”
Eddie’s breath stops, actually stops, then stutters back into steady rhythm under your hand. “...yeah?”
He sounds unsure but curious, excitement bleeding into the edges of that one word as your thumb sweeps across the spot where his ribcage meets. “Yeah. Be doing me a favor, too- I was kind of in the middle of a… a good dream. Prob’ly me that woke you up, anyways.”
Eddie’s hand drops from your shoulder, slithers back to his own space, disrupting your head rest briefly- until you realize he’s doing it to make enough room for you both to stretch out flat (on your mattress that was barely designed for one full-grown person). 
“A good dream,” Eddie parrots, as you both re-situate under the thin cover of your floral-patterned top sheet. Shoulder to shoulder, skimming the heat from each other’s bare skin as you stare resolutely at the ceiling, there’s a frizzy mass of black hair in your periphery. A hint of a smile in Eddie’s voice as he asks, “What were you dreamin’ about?”
You can feel the rippling shift of his bicep as his arm moves, hand sliding unseen beneath the sheets- a sharp inhale as his hand finds purchase over the bulge in his boxers. 
In response, your own hand follows the contoured path to the spot below your navel, toying with the band of your panties before slipping underneath. Cupping yourself, feeling the heated slick coat your fingers before dragging it back up to rest your middle against the beating pulse of your clit- “Ah- um. Was dreamin’ about. Uh. Molly Ringwald.”
A few days from your latest John Hughes marathon, it’s the first feasible famous person that comes to mind. Luckily, Eddie just laughs, in a stilted gasp when his fist finds his aching cock- “Oh, fuck- yeah? Redheads do it for you these days?”
“Uh huh.” Maybe if you keep the focus on someone else, you’ll both be able to come out of this event unscathed. Walk away with your hands clean- er. Well. Nope. 
A better analogy is gonna have to wait, because your abdomen’s tightening with each pass of your wet finger over your clit, pleasure licking and sparking, the usual slow-build to orgasm forming with shocking rapidity.
“What was she doing?” Eddie, sounding strained and strung-out already (really makes you wonder how long you’d actually been using each other, in sleep, grinding and working the other person up), hand moving in long strokes- “In your dream, I mean. Licking you out? Did she use fingers?”
It’s not like you haven’t heard Eddie’s dirty talk before- in fact, you helped cultivate it, years ago when he was nervous for a third date and wanted some advice. You’ve coached him on sex techniques, he’s given his own expertise, you’ve both appraised the other's nudes, for christ’s sake- this is just a natural extension of your friendship. Your closeness. 
Eddie’s feeling awfully close, now, his arm bumping against yours with each pass of his fist over his dick, your leg periodically grazing the downy hair of his shin as your hips jolt upwards, into the electricity stemming from the pad of your finger. 
Choking on your words around a bright surge of pleasure- “Y- yeah. Her mouth. Fingers. All of it.”
“Fuck.” Eddie’s form lurches, doing a half-crunch forwards- risking a glance, you catch a glimpse of the sweat beading at his temples, the dark slant of his brow in concentration, jaw working through the grit of his teeth- “Why don’t you use some fingers, then.”
Like he’s got you under some sort of command spell (because you’re not touching the alternatives with a ten-foot pole), you obey, middle and ring fingers curling into the tight channel of your cunt. There’s a spot you hit on your front wall, gummy and responsive, muscles reacting on instinct by contracting and spasming around your fingers.
You’re close already, panting, head tipped back against the bottom sheet, neck bared, eyes squeezing shut at the wave of pleasure that begins to pulse insistently. “I’m- fuck, Eddie. Keep talking, please-”
“So good,” Eddie says, almost funny in how quick he is to interrupt your pleading. “So good for me. Sound so wet, too, bet you’re soaking…”
You are, in fact, rivulets of slick joining into one just under the globes of your ass, cooling and sticky, a bit uncomfortable but since it’s laundry day and you feel this good you can’t really bring yourself to care.
A half-gasp whimper as you writhe your pelvis up, again, chasing that edge, tantalizingly close, the wet noises from your weeping cunt and plunging fingers spurring Eddie on.
“That’s it, baby.” He’s encouraging even in his own heady fog of pleasure (must’ve had a good sex-talk coach), voice low and rough at your ear as he drops his chin to get closer. “Tell me what you need, hm? Lemme get you there.”
“Need you- you, to…” Frustrated by your lack of breath, in lieu of communicating with words you slide your fingers from yourself, seeking Eddie’s hand before you can overthink the action. You leave a trail of slick against his hip bone, and Eddie releases himself to give you his hand- moaning, cock twitching, as you coat your own heated wetness over his dry palm. 
This time, when you both get your hands back on yourselves, it’s with a tandem whine, Eddie’s ending with a hiss through teeth- “Fuck. Fuck, yes. So wet. So good.”
“Yeah?” Like you never left, your pussy molds easily to the shape of your three fingers again. Your other hand leaves your side to paw at your clothed breast, nipples peaking through the lace. “I gotta- I’m gonna take my bra off. Please.”
You don’t actually wait for permission, but Eddie gives it anyways as you slide the cups down, babbling encouragement- “Shit, sweetheart, yeah. Whatever you gotta do. So good for me, tellin’ me what you need. Good job.”
One day, you’re gonna regret telling Eddie you get off on praise, but not today; with one nipple pinched firmly between thumb and forefinger, your other breast spills to the side, resting against Eddie’s upper arm.
He groans, from his toes, fist slipping over his cock with ease thanks to your contribution. The sounds filling your small room are obscene, sex-dipped moans and glossy wet hand movements all reaching a crescendo as both your hips jerk up at the same time.
Keeping the same pace against your clit as Eddie’s keeping on his dick, the spark of pleasure has turned into a roar that swims up to your ears, a white-out of an orgasm fast approaching each time the heel of your palm slams into your clit. 
“Eddie- jesus, Eddie- Eddie Eddie Eddie-”
You’d feel sheepish about how desperate you sound if Eddie wasn’t matching your energy two-fold. His lanky frame thrashes when your speech devolves into a repetition of his name, keening as his fist staves off tipping over the edge with a tight ring at the base of his cock- “That’s it, baby, y’can do it, angel. Come on. Come with me. Please, please-”
With a final cruel twist to your breast, you come undone, orgasm spooling heat throughout your whole system, Eddie’s name unraveling in a long cry. Eddie follows you, fucking up into his fist, ropes of cum shooting to the top of the sheets tent he’d made, hunching against the spasms crawling up his abdomen. 
You ride the last of your orgasm out on the stretch of three fingers, releasing your nipple when the pressure turns to a twinge of pain. Under the covers, your bare chest heaves around the stretched elastic band of your shoved-down bra; with shaky, uncoordinated hands, you reach behind and beneath yourself to undo the hooks, flinging the offending clothing in the general direction of your hamper.
Eddie chuckles, breathless, bellows of his ribs nudging your forearm as he sinks back into his (your) pillow. “Christ. Good thing it’s laundry day.”
There’s no room for shame, no ounce of you that wants to dwell on what this could mean, right now- although there’ll be plenty of time for that later. As it stands, you’re both swathed in a quiet, post-sex bliss, neither wanting to disturb the peace. 
In a dreamy haze, you take note of little things- the drag of Eddie’s pinky against the back of your hand. The glint of his rings stored in a neat line atop your nearby dresser. A block of mid-morning sunshine from the window cast over the bed, prickling at your legs with warmth.
After a few minutes of this, Eddie sits up, mumbling apologies when you snatch the sheets to keep yourself covered. “You want first shower?”
He looks at you over his shoulder, down the lovely arc of his nose, brown eyes tender and staying on you for a beat too long. Squirming under his gaze, you find anywhere else to look (other than the pale slope of his back, smattered and dotted with freckles), shaking your head. “Nope. All yours.”
You flick your interest back to the ceiling as Eddie pulls up his boxers, grimacing at the mess he’s made of your sheets; before leaving, he bends to scoop up your tossed bra, snapping his own underwear to emphasize- “I’ll start this load before showering, then I’ll come back for your bedding.”
At your nod, Eddie leaves to clank around in the laundry closet; then there’s a rusty squeak of the shower handle, a subsequent rush of water, and Eddie’s pleasant husky humming floats down the hall through the open doors. 
You roll onto your front with a contented sigh, burying your nose in the pillow Eddie was just lying on- it smells like him, now, smoky and spicy and familiar. 
You spend the rest of his shower time coming up with a good excuse to save this pillowcase from being washed.
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dadsbongos · 3 months
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possessed by the thought of laios fucking half-foot reader 626 words, pure smut (hinted you're fuckin in da dungeon) ~~~
You hate tall-men. Tall-men are gross and impolite and throw their weight with little regard for others. You especially hate adventurer type tall-men. Their need for exploration usually sours their personality further; tall-men adventurers are inconsiderate and belligerent towards you and your fellow half-foots.
Except for Laios.
You love Laios.
“I don’t know if it’ll fit…” 
Laios is tender, and kind.
“You can make it fit, Laios. I can take you.”
Laios knows how to work what he has.
Laios can keep his cool, feeding you the fat tip of his cock with care to avoid tearing you open. He sighs, huffing at the squeeze and suck of your slick cunt. He curls an arm around your waist, palming your chest, binding you against him. 
Once he’s managed a solid inch inside you, Laios uses his spare hand to grab your thigh and spread you open. Stretching your leg over his bent one, sweat clinging sweat and Laios’ soft lips soothing your molten face. 
“You’re so wet,” he smushes his cheek against yours, gold eyes searing down to where he’s slowly stuffing you, “Does it turn you on? That I’m too big? You like that?”
You grind down onto him with a soft whine as if to answer the question physically (a terrible idea when its Laios you’re fucking). He goes to repeat himself so you turn your face into his neck and suck rosy welts along his skin. Yanking groans from under his breath; hips jerking into yours barely faster. Even his cautious thrusts jostle your smaller body, and when concern burdens his arousal Laios wets his fingers to circle your clit.
Strong arms constrict your instinctual humping and snapping, thick with muscle and soft with flaxen hairs. You could probably describe the entirety of Laios that way: thick. In the most mouth-watering way, he’s meaty and broad and so much fucking bigger than you. When you imagine a man, you’re slowly finding that Laios is the only one to come to mind.
And he’s splitting you open so sweetly.
Wriggling a hand free, you press on the electric spot Laios is battering from the inside. Added pressure making you squeal and whimper into his neck. 
“Can you feel me right there?” Laios strays the hand not strumming your clit to cover yours on your stomach, you can hear his breath hitch when the pudge of his cock meets his fingertips, “Oh, you can. I’m way too big,” he swallows harshly, drilling into you faster despite his words, “You like that?”
“Fuck yes, hah,” you reach back to dig you nails into his shoulder, gasping and shuddering as Laios tugs your hips to burrow somehow deeper in your gut. Heavy and warm, he’ll burn you from the inside out and the sickest part is that you’d beg him for it, “You too, right?” you have to strangle out a yelp, “Laios, Laios! You like it, right?”
“Uh-huh,” he rolls you easily so you’re on top of him, lifting and slamming you on his cock to study the way your twitchy cunt clings. Cheeks tinted rouge and mouth agape, “So warm and snug- love it- love- !”
You silence him with your mouth on his. If he bothers to ask, you’ll blame it on wanting to muffle your crashing orgasm by wailing his own name against his lips. There’s no way you look a man so lovely in his eyes and say you just don’t want him gasping out a love confession with your party in the other room.
After all, Chilchuck’s heightened hearing catching you fuck the party leader is one thing, but to have him pestering you about falling in love with the guy is too much.
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queenimmadolla · 8 months
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𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐈 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞
(dad!eddie x mom!reader)
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Summary: Eddie has to shower before he can hold his impatient baby. She's having none of it.
a/n: i was attacked by yet ANOTHER cute baby tiktok so here we are with a little bit of grease monkey!eddie and another little drabble. set in the early days of the pennyverse. and yes, i've used this gif before but he's dead so i'm running out of them. mistakes might be fixed later, i dont know :)
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“Are these your little fingers?” You asked your baby, tone saturated in honey and affection as you held the chunky palm in question, lips pressed to her pudgy fingertips. 
  Despite your aversion to it prior to your pregnancy, you’d inevitably developed a baby voice when Penny had come into the world and you couldn’t be blamed. Not when she was all squish, delicate cheeks holding so much chub they bulged, and rolls decorated her little limbs. She was a glutton, always demanding your milk and you couldn’t deny her; those big, gorgeous eyes she’d inherited from her father made it nearly impossible to, even when the wetness welling up in them were completely alligator tears. And those curls. 
  Regardless of taming them with some water, a brush and maybe some vaseline, they ended up wild, flying about or mussed and matted to her head with sweat because your baby was a little heater when she slept and napped. Just like her daddy.
  Your smile widened in size when you heard the sound of keys slotting into place at the front door, the lock mechanism giving away. It tripled when you realized your baby also recognized the sound, head turning to stare at the door as she bobbed in place, thick legs squatting and then popping back up as you held her by her waist with your other hand, assisting her with standing.
  The moment Eddie opened the door and came into view she began cooing and squealing in excitement, mouth parting in a wide smile as drool raced down from the corner of her mouth.
You laughed, and so did Eddie as he heard his baby welcoming him home.
  “You excited to see me, sweet pea?” He cooed right back, walking over to squat in front of the two of you, eyes raking over you momentarily in appreciation before focusing on the little one in your arms. 
  She let out another long coo that ended on an airy sigh, pulling her hand from your grasp to reach both of her pudgy ones out to him, practically begging him to hold her as she began wiggling in your arms.
  Eddie’s head tilted, lips curling into the most tender smile as he stared down at her with nothing but love swimming in those eyes he’d shared with her. 
  “Daddy missed you and mommy so much.” He whispered, a hand reaching out, almost close enough to caress her soft cheek but it hesitated before he could touch her. His rough, grease covered finger was a stark contrast to her clean, smooth skin. Clearly, you’d given her a bath before he got home because her mouth and cheeks were usually covered in the food you were starting to offer her (sometimes baby food, but mostly bits of your food because she wouldn’t accept any offerings of mushed up veggies and fruits if there was something else on your plate, hence why your diet had been pretty bland and not at all a result of the tight budget your maternity leave left you on).
The rest of his hands were no better, palms stained, streaks all over his arms as a result of shucking the top half of the monkey suit and rolling up his sleeves at the garage. 
  There were even a few streaks of grease and maybe oil on his face and neck. Your husband smelled more so of tires than he had the spicy cologne that surrounded you when he’d kissed you goodbye in bed this morning. 
  And he knew it.
  Penny didn’t let that stop her, still eagerly reaching out for him as she grunted to try and provoke him in swooping her up into his embrace.
  “As soon as daddy’s clean, okay? I’ll pick you up and my sweet girl can give me all the cuddles she wants.” He promised, hands on his knees before he stood back up, leaning over her to give you a sweaty, greasy oh so sweet and firm press of the lips kiss before he swiveled around and disappeared into the small bathroom as quickly as he could to be out of hearing range when Penny began whimpering at his absence. 
  You heard the shower start running at the exact moment she began to cry and you offered a sympathetic whine of your own as you adjusted your grip on her, bringing Penny up to your chest, your cheek smushed against her more plump one.
  “Shhh…it’s okay, my love. Daddy’s just showering. He’ll be back.” You stood up, hitching Penny on your hip as you walked to the entrance of the small hallway so the bathroom door was visible to her. Eddie’s humming floated out from underneath the crack of it. 
  Penny was Eddie’s daughter, alright, full of dramatics as her breathing remained heavy, chest rising and falling quickly with the hitches in her breath as a chunky fist gripped onto your blouse, lower lip curling out and wobbling. She didn’t seem satisfied with your explanation but that didn’t worry you. If Penny was awake when Eddie left for work in the morning, she’d start bawling. 
  The first couple of times she’d started reacting to his departure, he’d ended up full of guilt and late to work. It still wasn’t easy for him, even after you’d finally convinced him she’d have the same reaction whether he left in the morning, afternoon, or evening. Regardless of the time, she was going to be upset that she wouldn’t be able to see her daddy, probably convinced in her little baby mind that he’d abandoned her (he’d nearly quit the shop when you’d phrased it like that) but he’d always come home to her—and you—and that’s what mattered.
  You were positive she’d start yelling and shrieking when it came time for you to go back to work, too. She was just a baby, so she was being a baby.
  You carried your huffing and puffing daughter back to the living room, placing her down on the carpet in front of some toys she had been playing with earlier in the day. Maybe they’d distract her.
  Wrong.
  She sat on the carpet, chunky legs strewn out for just a few seconds before she was moving forward onto her belly and propping herself up. Then she was off, crawling as fast as she could towards the hallway while breathing heavily with exhilaration. You trailed after her, amused at how stubborn she was when she stopped directly in front of the bathroom door, propping herself up on her bottom.
  You watched Penny reach out with shaky palms, pressing them gently against the door. It looked like they were feeling around it before she began slapping them against it as hard as she could as she yelled her baby babble, no doubt demanding her daddy open the door, pick her up and love her right now.
  Giggles were muffled into your palm, as she kept up with it. 
  Eventually, maybe when she realized that wasn’t working, Penny leaned over, wiggling around until she was on her tummy and the side of her head was resting on the carpet. You realized she was trying to look under the door for him and your heart clenched, hand flying over your chest as if you could grasp the organ.
  You expected her to sit back up and go back to smacking the door but she remained there, a stubby finger absentmindedly trailing through the carpet as she stared through the thin crack, warm bathroom light and Eddie’s voice flooding out from underneath to comfort her as she waited.
  Picking her up had crossed your mind, and so did the idea of how loudly she’d probably start screaming and crying if you did. 
  The two of you didn’t have to wait for long, the shower shut off and you could hear the sounds of the shower curtain rings scraping against the rod as Eddie pulled them back. 
  Panic briefly filled your chest as you realized Eddie probably wasn’t expecting his baby to be lying on the floor directly outside of the bathroom—he’d step on her, so you called out, “Heads up, Eddie, you’ve got a visitor.”
  You didn’t hear a response, but a few moments later, the door opened to reveal your husband. Water droplets slipped down his neck and chest. He had one towel—that had definitely seen better days—wrapped around his waist and another (yours) he was using to scrunch up his sopping wet curls to dry them.
  Eddie had heard you, shooting you a smirk before he addressed the baby beaming up at him, “Shower’s free if you wanna hop in, stinky.”
  Penny had no idea what he was saying, it didn’t matter anyways because he said it in the same voice he used when he gave her kisses and held her to his chest so she was reaching up for him and he finally reached down—with clean hands—grasping her sides before she was hoisted into his arms. Penny wasted no time, mouth parting wide to mouth aggressively at his face and chin while she shook her head and wiggled about.
  She was giving him kisses.
  Or trying to eat him, she had little bursts of energy where she’d do that—attack you out of nowhere while you held her causing the both of you to break out laughing.
  Eddie let her get it all out, and when she cooed, resting her cheek on his shoulder, he retaliated. Her cheeks and little neck rolls were smattered in his smacking kisses as she squealed and shrieked and wiggled but there was no escaping her daddy’s clutches now that she was finally in them. 
  When every inch of her available to him had been kissed, he turned towards you and you suddenly found yourself victim to two sets of identical crinkly brown eyes. A deep chuckle rumbled from Eddie as he padded over to where you stood, mischievous smirk making another appearance.
  “Mommy’s turn.”
2K notes · View notes
johnbrand · 2 months
Text
Little Brother
With @next-pharaoh
“Eh, dirty Arab,” Markus muttered to himself, squeezing into the aisle seat next to the younger brown man beside him. He could only hope his suit would not get filthy while next to the fellow. Markus was on his way to a meeting across the country, hoping to be promoted to an associate at his law practice.
“I’m sorry, what did you say, zalameh?” Markus’s new acquaintance asked innocently. Markus grimaced at the hair that seemingly covered every exposed part of the young man’s body, and the musk that naturally wafted off of it.
“Nothing, nevermind.” Markus did not want to get into an argument. He was not worried about the other passenger’s size–Markus's hobby of weightlifting would definitely make it an even match–but he was on a plane. They were going to sit together for at least three hours.
“Picking a fight with me is rather bold,” the man beside him warned. “Just because we are in public does not mean your big brother Khalil won’t put you into place. I’ve had no problem doing that in the mosque, remember?.”
The second half of the comment caught Markus off guard. “I’m sorry…what?”
“Do not play dumb, zalameh,” Khalil smirked. “Although I guess skipping that post-secondary education may have slowed you down.”
“N-no, I’m smart…and I’m not Muslim.” Markus struggled to regain his footing, which was surprising for the lawyer of almost ten years. But then, something else began to alarm him. “Wait, what’s happening to my suit?!”
Right before the pair’s eyes, Markus’s suit had begun to dwindle away, pulling back towards his core. The jacket disappeared completely, while the starched button-up softened into a basic graphic tee. Markus’s pleading eyes searched for help but no one seemed to notice his pant legs curling up, becoming sweat shorts that reached halfway across the thigh. Finally, as his premium loafers morphed into beaten sneakers, Markus switched to the offensive.
“You’re doing this aren’t you, you camel-”
“Shh, brother,” Khalil placed a brown finger to Markus’s lips, shushing him. “You don’t want to make a scene, do you?”
Recovering fast, Markus ripped Khalil’s hand away, but then he noticed a new problem. “My-my arms! Why are they…”
“They’ve always been brown,” Khalil stated as they both followed the wave of melanin that flushed over Markus’s arms. “They’re as hairy as mine, but if you joined me in the gym more often than they’d be as buff and strong as mine too.”
Markus’s arms shrunk under Khalil’s comments, now more toned than muscular. “Wha-” 
“And that runner’s build too,” Khalil commented. “Sure you have abs and that thick treasure trail, but it makes you more boyish than man.”
“No, stop it!” Markus exclaimed. And yet no attention was given to him from the other passengers as his frame thinned out into a figure appropriate for a runner.
“At least you have that fat, bushy, Arab cock our family name takes pride in!” Khalil suddenly grabbed Markus’s crotch, both of them noticing the heftier weight. Markus did not understand how, but he could feel his white sperm rapidly evaporating within Khalil's grip.
“B-but I’m not Arab…and I’m a lawyer…and I’m-”
“You're my little brother,” Khalil finished, grabbing Markus’s face. “Praise Allah I have patience for your misunderstandings.”
Markus was going to comment, but instead was distracted by a foreign feeling on his chin, “Since when do I have a goatee…?”
“Since you could grow one, zalameh. You’ve wanted to be like me ever since you were little.”
Markus groaned. “I don’t...ow, my head...”
“By Allah you practically are like me at this point,” Khalil chuckled. “One could even confuse us for twins.”
“No…that can’t be…true.” Struggling, Markus got up. To his surprise, Khalil did not stop him–nor did anyone else for that matter–as he stumbled towards the bathroom. He had to see if it was true. Markus had to know if…
“Subhanallah!”
With the mirror in front of him, Markus was able to witness what Khalil had meant. Reflected back was a young Arab man, no older than 25. Attractive in a boyish way, but still held that Arab hair and funk that many brown men were proud of. Markus’s eyes began to water, but before he could cry his phone received a notification.
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“Marwan, what’s taking you so long! We are about to take off!!"
Marwan shook his head, what was he just thinking about? It probably did not matter anyway. Luckily his older brother Khalil was looking out for him once again. Admiring his own brown, masculine beauty and quickly thanking Allah for it, Marwan left the bathroom to return to his brother. Khalil was beaming from ahead, eagerly awaiting him.
529 notes · View notes
girlboypersonthingy · 6 months
Note
Big reward. I meant for that to be a smut request, my bad.
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OMFG I BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE!!! Yessss finally some Valentino smut. I love it~ I’m honestly soooo inspired by @sweets4dolls and her Val x bunny!reader smut 🤤 literally so good. He’s so toxic. 10/10 would smash. Go check her stuff out! And I hope you enjoy my stuff too ❤️‍🔥
Notes: fem!reader, she/her pronouns, THIS ENDED UP LONGER THAN EXPECTED OOPS I’m gonna have to excuse myself now, geez 😳
TW: oral s*x (m receiving), DDLG, unsanitary, unprotected s*x, spit, creamp*e, rough, dirty talk, 18+ only MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Valentino x reader- Superstar 🌟💖
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“And cut! That’s a fucking wrap!” Valentino shoots up from his seat so fast his chair tips over behind him as he claps obnoxiously. Boy had stars in his eyes, even his assistant was shocked by his display of pride and admiration. “Damn, baby. That was a helluva show, fuck! That’s why she’s my favorite~” Val smirks as he eyes your figure still up on set, still down on your knees and trembling. He snaps his fingers, yelling out to his back stage crew. “Alright! Come get the vibrator off her, hurry up.”
Yeah…although the scene had ended and the cameras cut at least 2 whole ass minutes ago, you’re still in position waiting for the boss to give you the okay. Down on your knees, hands bound behind your back with thick pink ropes, your pretty lacy lingerie disheveled and drenched in all kinds of different bodily fluids and, of course, Val had one of his most sturdy and powerful vibrators tucked up against your heat, making you grind down against the carpet below you just to get off. The worst part- he made you leave your panties on the whole time. Finally, after a few orgasms had already wracked your body, the vibrating in your crotch disappears, leaving you only half satisfied.
The entire shoot, all he had you do was suck as many dicks as you could, swallowing every single load for the camera. Gagging on cock is hot to some, maybe not to others- but there’s something about how darling you look choking on another demon’s dick that just sets him and his viewers off. Your pretty lashes dusted with tears, your nose and cheeks pink, your forehead shiny with sweat, your bare chest covered in spit and cum, your cheeks and throat stretching to fit every inch. Not that you mind! You’d do anything for Val but damn, you were aching for a real fuck. All the vibrator did was get you prepped and wet and now you need some real friction.
“Everyone, out! Now! I need to talk to (Y/N).” As all his employees scramble to leave the studio, Val walks over to you, still bucking your hips against nothing now. He kneels in front of you, taking your face in his hands. You’ve been staring at his hard on since half way through taping and now that he was right in front of you, dick about to rip through his pants, you feel your walls clenching longingly. “Wow. Holy. Shit.” He lets out a deep chuckle as he stares at your face, your make up smeared under your eyes. “I did okay?” The question has Val scoffing as he looks you up and down, watching as your thighs quiver. “Baby, you did fan-fuckin-tastic. You’re gonna make me so much fucking cash, I’m not gonna know what to do with it!”
With his hands still holding your face, he pulls you into a sloppy kiss, letting his tongue wander into you immediately. You happily tongue him back, leaning into him as you struggle to keep your balance with your hands still tied behind you. Breaking the kiss, his large hands travel down your neck to your chest, his fingers giving your sensitive nipples little squeezes. Val looks down to see you’ve scooted closer to him and you’re still rolling your hips in the hopes of finding something to fill you. He eases your pain by gently thrusting forward, his hard bulge up against your needy crotch for a moment.
“Aww~ I know, amorcito. Such a long shoot with such an empty hole. You must feel so hollow right now, baby. Does my little girl need more?” Nodding frantically, you kiss him again before moaning your pleas into his mouth. “Please, fuck me, Valentino.” His smirk becomes sinister as he leans away, refusing your kisses now. His shift causes you to fall forward into him more, your tits squished against his stomach now. “Ah ah ah. Try again.” His scolding makes you whine, makes tears begin to form in your eyes. “Hmm~ please f-fuck me, daddy~” and within seconds, he’s tearing your once disheveled lingerie completely off of you, your strained voice making his dick twitch.
“Hmm~ yeah, that’s my little superstar.” Within seconds, he had you turned around on your knees once again with your face pressed to the plush red carpet. Val made little effort to remove your panties, leaving them bunched up around your knees. Finally, with your face on the floor, your ass in the air and your throbbing cunt free of the fabric, Val gets a good look at your eager pussy. He yanks off his belt and quickly frees his dick without even pulling his pants down much. He can’t wait much longer and neither can you.
He swiftly leans over, one hand on each of your ass cheeks as he spits on your hole, earning a whine of anticipation from you. With no hesitation, he sits up and thrusts into you all at once, filling every bit of you instantly. “Oh my fucking-“ Val growls loudly as his hands grip your hips, his cock immediately moving at an unforgiving pace. Giving you no time to adjust, he continues to pound into you as he leans forward, putting one hand on the side of your head then forcing it down onto the ground. “Ah~ such a clean little cunt you’ve got, just patiently waiting to be filled by daddy, huh?”
All you can muster up is a collection of moans, whines and gasps. Right as you catch your breath, Val spanks your ass hard and his pace slows. “Use your words~” Despite the stinging hand print on your ass, his voice is soft and sweet, so sultry and exciting. “Yes! Ah- oh! I’ve been waiting for you all day...” Your begging goes straight to his head, pulling a hearty chuckle from him. “You’re such a good girl, amorcito. Always doing exactly what I say, right when I say it. And you do it all sooo welllll~”
His thrusting had stopped completely now and suddenly, his hands are on your shoulders, pulling you up to be parallel with his body. Your back against his chest and you now sitting on his dick, he wraps one of his strong hands around your throat loosely and pulls you back against him before whispering in your ear. “Good girls get to cum sooner. You wanna cum now, baby?” And you couldn’t take it anymore, you began to squirm against him. “Yes, yes! Please keep goinggggg~”
And Val obeys, wrapping his arms around your torso tightly then helping bounce you on his dick. He is so strong, he is literally lifting you completely off of his lap before slamming you back down again, making your stomach bulge as he swelled inside you. A moaning mess covered in sweat, you had lost control of your legs and were now relying on him to keep you going. Now you’ve found yourself thanking the stars that you had done good today and impressed him. He was always willing to service his favorites and this was so worth the wait.
He moved one hand up to your neck again, squeezing it as he pants and growls in your ear. With every up and down of your body, you can feel yourself getting close, your tummy feels so full and your walls won’t stop tightening around his dick. “Yeah~ lemme hear you, mi cariño.”
Moaning at a higher volume now, Val couldn’t hold back anymore and he sunk his teeth into your shoulder, drawing blood. As a squeal leaves you, he keeps his mouth latched to you, still thrusting up into your sopping cunt as he licks the blood away. Finally, once you feel yourself fall off the edge of pleasure, your legs tense up against him and your hands bound behind you were searching for something to grasp. “Oh fuck~! Th-thank you, daddy. Thankyoudaddythankyoudaddythankyoudaddyyyyyyy~!” Your cries are harsh, babbles of appreciation pouring from your dry mouth as Val continues to buck up into you.
Without letting you catch your breath, he pushes you back down into the carpet, your weak body going limp as you lay flat against the ground. Panting and whining still, you squeeze your legs together once you realize he’s not inside you anymore. Not a moment later, Val was gripping your bruised hips and pulling your ass back up in the air. Legs shaking violently, you couldn’t control your loud whining as he thrusts back into you again, resuming the same rapid pace as before. Val grunts and hisses at the feeling of your slick dripping down his thighs now. “Hmmph…gonna cum in you. Gonna fill my pretty girl up.” With a firm slap to your already tender ass, Val lets out a rumbling laugh as you pant into the carpet, tears of overstimulation cascading down your burning cheeks.
Already so fucked, you couldn’t even close your mouth for long enough to form a single word. Your only option was to relax into his grip and enjoy it for as long as he lasts. “F-fuck.” Val stutters out as his fingers dig into your soft flesh. With one final thrust, burying his dick inside you completely, he let out a throaty grunt followed by soft sighs. It nearly brought you to another climax feeling his hot cum spill into you. After a few seconds of being still, Val slowly pumps in and out of you, lewd squishing noises sounding from where your bodies connected.
Another hard smack to the ass is followed by Val slowly pulling out of you with his eyes locked on your swollen pussy the whole time. Glancing back at him, all you could see through the blurry tears in your eyes was his huge, satisfied grin as he watched his thick load dribble out of you. “Mm mm mm. You are so delectable. Such a good girl.”
Without another word, Val stands and pulls his pants up, adjusting himself before fastening his belt. You had since collapsed completely, your body heavy and flat against the floor beneath you. Val stepped over your quivering form and skillfully untied your hands with amazing speed. Your arms came flopping down to your sides as you inhaled fully then exhaled deeply. “Get yourself cleaned up and go rest for the night. I’m gonna need you to do all of that lovely hard work again tomorrow. You can do that for me, right baby?”
“Yes, daddy~”
853 notes · View notes
tmblrcolouredpaper · 11 months
Text
Sleepy scenarios with TXT: habits, routines and rituals that occur when you share a bed with them (fluff) 
5 scenarios, member x reader
wc (in total): 2691
no warnings
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Yeonjun 
Refuses to use individual blankets and pillows
One blanket, one pillow
You're freezing? Blanket is not big enough to comfortably lay next to each other? Yeonjun takes up the pillow, so his chest is the only free space for your head to rest? Well, you gotta cuddle the whole night then. 
You tuck him in each evening, making sure he has more of the blanket and Yeonjun loooooves it, letting you do this task while having the biggest grin on his face. 
You keep complaining about it, but end up giving in to the forced cuddles, because do you want to freeze? No! Do you want to sleep without Yeonjun to have your own blanket? NO!?
Yeonjun always makes sure you sleep first regardless of how tired he might be. 
He caresses your arm up and down, gently has his hand on your back or lets his fingers slowly wander over your face. 
You end up turning away and taking up all the blanket with one move. That's when Yeonjun knows he can fall asleep now too. 
Holds you close and sometimes feels you pulling the blanket back over him in the middle of the night. 
It's intuitive how you always end up in his arms with both of you covered by the blanket again. 
You basically sleep half on top of him and the one who sleeps longer wins the blanket in the morning.
It's Yeonjun's favorite game. You hate it, but love it. 
'Is it raining again?', you asked, refusing to pull the blanket away from your face to look outside the window yourself.
'Yep', Yeonjun chirped and pulled the curtains aside even further with an overdramatic and energized stretch of his arms. 
He welcomed the grey weather, heavy clouds imitating the thick blanket on his bed that he couldn't feel covering him most times throughout the night. 
He looked back to where you were lying and smiled. This was his favorite part of each day he experienced with you. 
'You stole the blanket again', he sighed with the smile still plastering his face. 
'I keep telling you to use two blankets when two people sleep in this bed, but -', you mumbled into the singular pillow on the bed, until you felt Yeonjun dropping down on you. 
'You just have to tuck me in better', he laughed and clang onto you like a koala on top of a branch.
'I'll tie a rope around you and this stupid blanket', you groaned and tried to wiggle free. 
Yeonjun only allowed that process only go as far as your face being visible. 
'Look who is ready to face the day', he hummed and kissed the tip of your nose. 
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Soobin 
Wants to see you in his clothes. 
Gets too excited to have you with him in these late hours AND the early hours. 
Throws a pile of shirts and hoodies on top of you to let you pick what you want to wear. 
One shirt, one hoodie, but then also another hoodie that you can cuddle. 
He doesn't necessarily need physical contact the whole time. He's happily at peace with your close presence, but he doesn't want you to feel any sort of distance despite remaining a more comfortable sleeping position. Solution: You wrapped up in his belongings and holding onto the soft fabric with his scent as well. 
Cuddles in the morning are a must tho. 
He'll wear the hoodie you cuddled when the cold morning arrives and lets you wake up in his arms when you're comfortable with such closeness. 
'Where is it?', Soobin mumbled half asleep, freezing in the dark and quiet room. 
His hand dived through the layers of sheets. His blanket, your blanket, the layers of clothes that embraced you... Somewhere there should have been the grey hoodie he gave you in the evening before going to bed. However, he couldn't find it, too dark to to see and too messy to feel the right cloth. 
Frustrated, he let his head fall back against his pillow and he sighed tiredly, feeling too cold to fall back asleep yet too lazy to get up and get another hoodie. Besides, he wanted THIS specific hoodie that must be somewhen around you. 
You turned and rolled over, closer to Soobin's side of the bed and he immediately let his hand wanter into the direction he expected your shoulder to be to adjust the blanket. Unfortunately, he took the wrong direction and he hit your chin clumsily. He quickly pulle away and mumbled a shocked excuse. 
'S'biiin', you whined half asleep and groaned into the blanket. 
'Sorry', he repeated and pulled his own blanket further over his body, getting a sense of hiding in his embarrassment. 
You moved again, big movements, freeing your arm and swinging something through the air. It landed on Soobin's face and engulfed him with your sleepy warmth. 
'Y'owe me m'ning cuddles', you mumbled and pushed yourself against him, but pushed your arms back under the blanket. 
Soobin giggled and proceeded to put on the warm hoodie, finally arriving in the state of comfortable morning. 
He pulled you in your blanket wrap closer and felt you resting your head on his chest with a big sigh, making him smile like an idiot.
'Sleep', you demanded and instinctive he listened to your command and closed his eyes. 
It was warm and when he sensed you moving again, adjusting your position to mold into him a bit more, a few seconds later feeling your fingers playing with is hair, Soobin was starting into the new day perfectly relaxed and well rested. 
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Beomgyu 
You're his pillow, you're his bed
It doesn't matter where you are, on the train, on the floor, actually in bed, he will rest somehow on top of you
He doesn't even think about it, but once he gets tired, he gravitates towards you. 
At the same time, he holds your hand when you get tired. 
Let's you play with his fingers until you drift away. 
He would literally invent an own morse code system with you, so when he's awake and you're too sleepy to talk to him verbally, you'd still be able to respond to him. 
It makes him feel like your guardian at the boarder from awake to dream land.
The one who ends up tired first gets royal treatment. 
If you're both tired at the same time, he'd lean against you with his hand close to you, so you can just take it when you need or want to. 
The train got emptier and emptier with each stop, yet Beomgyu and you still had some way to go. The moon seemed to follow you and whenever you looked outside, a different cloud was decorating the stone in space. Beomgyu's head was leaning against your shoulder and his closed eyes exposed his luxurious dark eyelashes. He looked adorable and your focus shifted from moon to him, back and forth until you yourself got overwhelmed by a wave of tiredness. You combed his hair with your fingers, a gentle attempt to wake him. He stirred and sat up. Only one glance was enough for him to register your demeanor. 
'Your turn', he whispered and his hand found yours and feeling his warmth immediately brought you closer to sleep. 
'Set an alarm', you mumbled and took your scarf from your neck to adjust it over his and your legs like a blanket. 
'When do we have to get off', he asked and a big yawn escaped his lips when he opened the alarm app, his eyes getting teary. 
You took his phone and set the alarm to 10:53 pm, ten minutes before you were supposed to arrive. Beomgyu wiped his eyes and his head landed back against your shoulder. He grabbed your arm and linked it with his own, intertwining your fingers in the process, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. 
'Just sleep a bit', he mumbled and caressed you felt him tracing your palm with his thumb until sleep finally numbed you. 
When the alarm rang, you woke up properly first. Panic occupying your body in no time. You shook Beomgyu away and buried yourself gathering your belongings. The train stopped almost on time at your final destination and you got off, with bags in your hand and Beomgyu still clinging onto your arm, ready to let his head drop against go despite asking through the city. 
'Fall asleep in bed, not now!', you granted and felt one bag falling out of your grip. 
'We're not dreaming?', he asked and laughed, taking the bags with one and your hand with his other hand, now guiding you home. 
Finally in bed that night, Beomgyu asked:'We dream together, right? I always try to follow you to your dream land when you fall asleep first. I always try to find you'. 
You hand fount its way into his hair and he buried his face closer the crock of your neck. 
'Don't have to try finding me. I'm always there whether you see me or not'. 
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Taehyun
He's not playing when it comes to sleep. 
Practical and organized routine. 
Fresh sheets? Check. Water bottle on each side of bed? Check. Phones charging? Che- You forgot your charger and have no battery left? He gives you his phone to watch something or read and charges your phone on his side that while. 
Cuddles you to get a sight on the screen as well, but snatches the phone away after thirty minutes and plugs it in. 
Refuses on giving you your phone back, because you shouldn't stare at the screen last thing at night. 
Literally fights you when you try to reach it. Tickles you, pins you down, laughs with you until you both are out of breath. 
Only then, knowing you end the day with a sprinkle of happiness, he switches off the light. 
Gives you your phone back in the dark, but you're doomed if he sees that screen shining. 
If your head is full and you think you need your phone to distract yourself, he'll cuddle you. He's your distraction and your focus. 
'Please just shut your phone', Taehyun whined for the third time this night. 
He tried just not facing you, pulling the blanket completely over him, dear, he even built a pillow wall to shut off the light of the phone screen. It didn't work. He might not have seen the light, but he could still sense your whole demeanor, focus on your phone and not even slightly on sleep... or him. 
'No', you cried out and he saw the light finally getting off. 
'I was in the middle of this Webtoon chapter', you explained and Taehyun finally decided to break the blockade towards you, taking the pillows away and robbed closer towards you. 
'Hey', you said in shock when he snatched your phone out of your hand. 
'Just charging it', he explained and plugged it in on and placed it on his bedside table. 
'Here', he announced and gave you his phone instead. 
'It better be a good chapter, because I wanna read with you'. 
He watched you opening the app and typing some things in the search bar and to your surprise the correct title popped up immediately. 
'It's your account, silly', Taehyun laughed and cuddled closer to you, positioning himself so that he can see the screen. 
He read with you, silently. From time to time, he glanced up and studied your face. Once your eyelids wee so heavy you obviously fought not to fall asleep every second, Taehyun repeated his action and took the phone away from you. You demonstrated with a weak 'hey', but in no time you already held onto your own phone again. 
'No screen anymore, okay? You need to sleep', Taehyun whispers softly and maneuvered your arm to your own bedside table to signal you to finally put your phone down for the night. 
'Can we cuddle?', you asked lowly and felt Taeyhun pulling you closer, embracing you in his warmth and with his attention on you, sleep was not avoidable anymore. 
Taehyun felt you breathing in his arms in a calm rhythm. He got a bit thirsty and reached to his side next to the table where he found his water bottle that you prepared for him even before he arrived at home. The luxury of being able to go to bed with everything already perfectly prepared gave him the sense of just sleeping, but he liked to remind himself of his priority that was you and your comfort. 
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Kai
Other than Soobin, cuddles YOUR hoodie or dresses one of his plushies in one of your shirts when you're not there. 
Stays close to you before switching of the lights. A hand on your stomach, a leg thrown over you or you cuddled into him. 
Lights off and position for sleep adjusting, you don't sleep right away. You talk. About everything and nothing. 
The more sleep-drunk you get the more abstract will the topics end up being. 
For instance, you start talking about Pokemon in general and end up designing a whole 'Day in my Life as Mawile'. 
You guys have no idea at what point you fell asleep, trying to follow memory line to the last plot point. 
Waking up is messy. Blanket messy, pillows everywhere, plushies between and around you, despite them usually chilling aside, away enough to not come in your way. 
Sleepy cuddles in the mess of warmth and softness. 
Tidying up together, arranging the whole bed setup as a morning ritual. 
'This is new', you laughed and pointed at the moiling plushie that was wearing your cropped shirt, regular size on the fluffy creature. 
'Oh. OH! Yeah', Kai slightly panicked and suppressed the urge to throw Molang into another room to hide this attire. 
'You know I was already wondering where this shirt went?', you teased him, well aware of his embarrassment. 
'Oh, sorry, you can have it back', he spoke quickly, making you laugh and hug him. 
'It suits Molang way better anyway'.
*
Kai pulled the blanket over you both when you lied down and his hand instinctively found its way to rest on your stomach, minimalistically rubbing circles over the fabric of the hoodie you were wearing. 
You both lied there, facing the ceiling and letting the lights of the passing by cars flicker over the walls. The ticking of a clock is audible and it was a weird atmosphere of quietness and irritating noisiness. 
'So', you started and Kai immediately turned to his side, facing you and robbing himself up by pushing his free hand under his cheek, ready to listen to whatever you had to say. 
'When and how did you steal, sorry, did Molang steal my shirt?', you spoke, unable to ban some wheezes out of your speaking, because Kai looked absolutely cute the way he was staring at you, all sleepy yet attentive. 
'Borrowed. It's borrowed not stolen', Kai corrected in a matter of factly and hurried to place a kiss on your cheek to finish his sentence properly. 
'You simply forgot it here and I wanted to make use of it the best way possible', he continued and a second touch of his lips followed.
'Did you at least wash it?', you asked, genuinely not knowing what his answer might end up being.
'Washing machines are not invented yet', he yawned and you made a mental note to wash the damn shirt tomorrow. 
'What else isn't invented yet?',, you asked and rolled over to be closer to him. 
He adjusted and held you close right away.
'Cars', he said. 
'What are those lights then?', you asked and pointed up the wall. 
Kai took your hand and pulled it towards his lips to place another kiss, this time on the back of your hand, before he maneuvered your arm around him with a content sigh. 
'Gigantic fireflies`, he chuckled and after a few more explanations of what everything technological around you actually is, you two fall asleep, dreaming of a fantasy world with gigantic fireflies and Molang presenting its new shirt collection. 
2K notes · View notes
cherigu · 1 year
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— ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ All Mine!
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Paring: dom!jk x sub!reader Genre: smut, ex2l Word Count: 4.7k Warnings: f*ngering, orgsm denial, praise, finger scking, unprtected pnetrative s*x, very jealous jk
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The hardships of adulting have yet to receive their justice, as people only ever tend to talk about the good parts. Everyone deals with it differently, whether by coping healthily or downright ignoring it. Maybe that’s why no one ever talks about how hard it is, they’re too busy coping to warn you. 
Your friend group was an exception of some sort, choosing to land right in the middle of the two options. Their idea of unwinding was a night out with a side of drinks.
You knew that joining them wouldn’t be the best option for your well-being. He always knew how to get on your last nerve without even speaking to you.
The shit-eating grin he’d throw you across the club because he knew you were eyeing him down. It’s not like you had much control over what caught your attention. 
That stupid Calvin Klein shirt, you had once loved so much, the brand also peeking out from his baggy jeans on the waistband of his boxers. Sleeves folded upward to expose more of his tattoos, dark ink contrasting with the dark fabric of his clothes.
And finally, the curly locks of fluffy brown hair that fell atop his face, slightly covering those big, bright doe eyes that would darken in jealousy as the night went on.
“y/n, baby, you’re here” Jennie called out as you made your way to the full table, watching her stand up to greet you with a quick hug. You waved to everyone, saying a quick greeting before Jennie stopped you from going towards the seats.
“Not too quick, give us a spin” She held your hand and turned you, whistling as you gave her a 360 of your look.
“So beautiful, it’ll be a shame if no one takes you to their place tonight.” she winked, making you giggle at her compliment. You didn’t dress up for anyone, in particular, tonight but rather took the opportunity of a night out to put the club dresses to use. 
The skimpy black dress did a poor job of covering anything up, from the low v-neck that showed off more than enough cleavage, to the backless cut that exposed the small of your waist from behind.
Your plump ass was threatening to spill from the glittery material, thick thighs out on full display for everyone. You’d for sure steal hearts tonight, and maybe a one-night stand if you had just enough liquid courage.
“The only person I’d let take me home is you, Jen” You teased back cheekily, finally following her to the sofa seats circling the table. “Don’t play, ‘cause you know I’ll do it” She half-seriously warned, dropping back onto her seat and picking up a shot from the table. 
You scanned the seats around the table for a vacant spot, not only landing your gaze on Jeongguk’s scrutinizing stare but also on the only two empty seats.
One is next to Jeongguk, and the other is next to Hyunjin. To protect your peace tonight you’d choose the latter, although you knew there was no way to guarantee that as long as Jeongguk was present.
But you were petty after all, and you loved to push his buttons just as much as he loved to push yours. Hyunjin was an attractive dude, not as hot as Jeongguk, but he’d do it for the night, especially being in the same friend group.
Looking past his great looks, he was annoying and too far up his ass for your own good. Absolutely not your type of man, but definitely someone that would grind Jeongguk’s gears.
The two of you had a long streak of being on and off, currently broken up after a stupid argument you quite frankly don’t remember how it started. At least you knew it ended in you storming out of his apartment and swearing you’d never speak to him again.
⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ୨୧ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹
“You always fucking do this Jeongguk” You raised your voice, walking out of his bedroom into the kitchen for some space. You might as well have stayed in the room, though, as he followed right behind you anyway.
“And you don’t? The only reason you don’t realize it is because I never bitch and whine about it, unlike you” He stared at your frame as you quickly turned around, walking towards him with your finger pointed in his direction.
“Because there is nothing to bitch and whine about, anything I do will never be nearly half as bad as the shit you always pull on me” Shoving your finger in his chest, you hear him scoff.
“Why don’t you leave then? If you think I’m such a horrible person why don’t you get your shit and get out of here, huh?"
“Y’know what, I will!” 
⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ୨୧ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹
And with that, you turned towards the living room. Anger flooding the room and making its way inside your system, turning every moment after that into a blur. From the rapidness in which you snagged your keys off the keyholder, to the loud bang of the door as you slammed it shut. 
You don’t even remember how you got to Jennie’s house after that, all you know is that she nervously stood outside the guest room in confusion at the lack of sobs coming from your side.
She would’ve expected to hear a few cries, especially after how angrily she had heard you tell her he was dead to you. But this had become a normal experience, not even worth the tear-shed at this point.
So here you were now, only 2 shots into the night and already flirty for a reason. Your sweet giggles at Hyunjin’s compliments had him pulling you close enough to have you practically sitting on his lap. Normally, you’d be rolling your eyes and walking away at this point, but you had an unofficial mission.
You took advantage of the situation and increased the skin-ship between the two of you. A delicate hand grazing over the undone buttons of his exposed chest and your body leaning towards his own just enough to be in his embrace.
Given the woozy state of the two of you, both had grown bold throughout the night. “You’re so sweet” You fake-smiled at him as his hand trailed further up your thigh, resting right where your dress ended to rub his thumb along your soft skin.
“It’s true, you look gorgeous tonight. Bet it was all for me, hm?” He asked with the familiar cockiness in his tone.
You responded with a coy smile, slowly inching towards his ear, “That's for you to decide, are you worthy of it?” you whispered, dropping a daring kiss to the side of his neck.
You felt his hand drop to the side of your thigh and travel upwards, landing right on the swell of your ass before giving it a tight squeeze. “Let me prove it to you.”
If you weren’t so caught up in your act, you would’ve noticed the flare in Jeongguk’s nostrils as he downed another shot. He didn’t care that the two of you weren’t technically together, you were only his to have.
He’d be damned if another man did so much as look at you a certain way, so for Hyunjin to have you the way he did right now, you might as well take him right in front of Jeongguk and it’d have the same effect.
Rage coursed through his veins, traveling up to his brain and consuming every last of his emotions. His clenched jaw matched his balled fists as he fought the urge to just get up and rock his shit in front of everyone. That way, anyone who even planned to speak to you would know the consequences.
“Yo” Mingyu nudged him, “Can you make it any more obvious?” He teased, nodding his head to where you and Hyunjin were, only to drop the smile quickly when he realized Jeongguk didn’t laugh. His burning stare never left the two of you, shamelessly feeling each other up without any regard for the rest of the table. 
Jennie was quick to catch on, not really paying any more attention to her conversation with Wendy anymore. After overhearing Mingyu’s comment, she turned over to Jeongguk who looked like he was ready to jump out of his seat. 
“Alright enough drinks, let’s go dance” She got up, motioning her hands for everyone to get up onto the dance floor to which everyone complied. Except for an obvious one, Jeongguk, who strayed from the mob and ran off to a place only he’d know.
The dance floor was packed with hot bodies secreting the gross stench of sweat mixed with alcohol. The crowd left no room for proximity, forcing your body to press up against Hyunjin’s. Without Jeongguk in sight, you couldn’t even force yourself to keep up the act.
But after a few dances and what felt like forever, you finally located his tall frame amongst the sea of people. As if on cue, you pressed your black flush against Hyunjin’s chest, loosely enveloping your arms around his neck. You moved your hips to the beat, softly grinding yourself in contact with his body.
The sensuality of your moves made him grip your waist and match your movements, gaze entirely fixed on you and unaware of the burning eye contact you held with Jeongguk across the club.
It was like seeing a direct reflection of yourself, replacing Hyunjin with Jeongguk and you with a random girl. An arrogant smirk grew on Jeongguk’s face when you dropped your vision to the blonde girl, shooting daggers when she annoyingly arched her back against Jeongguk’s body.
Truth be told, he couldn’t care less about who was pressing their ass against his crotch right now. If it wasn’t you, he wouldn’t react. All he wanted to do was chip at your walls, and see how easily you’d crumble when you catch him playing a fair game.
Suddenly not in the mood, you pause your movements when the song comes to an end, quickly excusing yourself from Hyunjin and heading toward the bathroom.
Jeongguk wasted no time in departing from the girl, eager to chase after you but quickly losing you after the obnoxious voice and short frame obstructed his path. 
“Where are you going?” She whined while pouting, making Jeongguk’s nose crinkle in disgust. “Bathroom” He dryly responded, eyes scanning the room for any sign of his pretty, but oh-so-bratty girl. 
He attempted to move, only to end up in the same place as before since the girl refused to move, tugging on his arm. “Can you at least give me your number, in case I lose you?” She batted her eyelashes in a failed attempt to charm him.
“Like hell, I would. Move lady.” He quickly responded, slightly pushing her aside once she didn’t bother to resist. No other girl other than you would ever have his phone number, you’re the only one who would ever need it, and the only one he’d respond to.
He freed himself from the situation and rapidly approached the bathroom hall where he spotted you disappearing into. Once caught up, he followed you into the bathroom, swiftly pushing both of your bodies inside and locking the door with a hurried motion to avoid anyone noticing.
“Jeongguk what th-” He cut your question short by pressing his long digit against your lips, emitting a demanding shush before departing from you to check the stalls.
Once confirming it was empty, he leaned back against the wall, slightly chuckling at your angry stance with your arms crossed over your chest.
“So, are you done with your whole theater?” He asked smugly, watching a wave of panic flash through your eyes, leaving just as fast as it came.
“Are you drunk? What are you talking about?” You huffed defensively.
“You seemed pretty bored dancing with him when you thought I wasn’t watching” He paused, “Then all of a sudden you throw yourself onto him when you saw me, gonna tell me tonight isn’t an act?” 
“You’re fucking crazy. I don’t know what you’re talking about, just let me go”
Despite the blaring music outside, the bathroom fell so silent you’d be able to hear a pin drop. Your eyes met his face before switching to his arms, and then to the door next to him.
The air that came out of his nose resembled a laugh, a mocking one at that when he noticed you connecting the dots.
“ ‘M not holding you back, or blocking the door. The only grasp you’re fighting against is your own, baby” And just like that, every wall you worked so hard to build tonight, came crashing down like a ton of bricks.
You could lie to yourself and be in denial all you wanted, but at the end of the day, there was a reason you only put up the act while Jeongguk was looking. You wanted him to feel jealous, to make him miss you as much as you did him.
Despite the petty arguments and fights, Jeongguk would forever be the man you are willing to come back to a million times over again. And each of those million times would always be worth it.
He began to step closer to you, “I’ll give you an option right now. You can either choose to leave,” His body was centimeters away from being fully pressed up against you, making you feel the heat radiating off of his body on your exposed skin.
He brought a gentle finger up to your chin, lifting your face to look up at him as he spoke his last words, “Or stay”
Your voice failed to reach your throat, parting your lips only to hear nothing come out of them. The scent of his cologne filled your nostrils and vanished every last bit of sanity you had in you. Your voice was barely audible, coming out as a whisper at best. “Wanna stay.”
The two rings on the corner of his mouth danced as his lips curled into a devilish grin, bringing the pad of his thumb to brush your bottom lip.
“That’s a good girl” He whispered. His words entered your system and wasted no time shooting straight to your core, dissolving into pure arousal that dripped from your empty hole. 
He pressed his body onto yours, making you lean back into the sink that dug into your back. He positioned his knee in between your legs and pressed against your core, making you mewl at the much-needed friction. You instinctively leaned in to kiss him, furrowing your brows in confusion when you felt the lack of warmth on your lips.
“You think you deserve my lips after yours were on someone who wasn’t me?” He tutted, raising his knee farther up to raise your dress. You weakly moved your head from side to side, suddenly feeling extreme regret for all of your senseless acts tonight.
“Do you think you deserve my touch at all..?” He asked as he felt your hips slowly begin to grind down on his thigh, feeling a slight dampness soak through his jeans.
“N-no, but I wan’ it”
“Then beg for it, princess” 
You whined in a complaint, “Can’t always give you everything you want. That's how spoiled brats are made, you gotta use your manners” He hummed to quickly shut down your protests.
“Please, gukkie, p-please touch me” 
His hand trailed lower down your body, landing his large hand on your thigh. “Where do you want me to touch you?” He teased, moving his hand involuntarily when you took it upon yourself to pick it up and place it over your clothed core, “Here..”
He groaned at the feel of the drenched lace. He rubbed the sticky fluids over the soft material of your panties, gaining a high-pitched moan from you as the pleasure began to travel throughout your body. His fingers rubbing circles on your clothed core combined with the friction of your panties to make your tummy grow ablaze.
The heat was quick to cool down momentarily when he halted his movements to peel off the underwear from your body, letting it pool around your ankles.
“Be good for me and don’t cum til I say so, yeah?” 
“Mhmm” you hummed in agreement.
You watched as his tattooed hand dipped between your thighs, connecting the pads of his middle and ring finger against your puffy clit and beginning to rub figure 8’s on the swollen skin. The glint of the silver band wrapped around his digit glowed underneath the light, making you inevitably look down.
Desperation to feel him overcame your body, biting down on your cherry lips to hold back from catching an attitude with him, knowing he’d be cruel enough to leave you hot and bothered for the rest of the night if you didn't take what he gave.
 He swiveled his fingers further down and prodded your aching hole with a finger to tease you, circling your entrance before moving inside.
He started with lazy movements to prep you for the second finger he wasted no time in adding once your body was relaxed enough.
His fingers slightly curled inwards as he fully entered your core, pulling a soft whimper out of you when you felt the coolness of his rings come in contact with your hot folds.
“Sensitive, hm?” He smiled and watched you nod, too needy to even speak. You felt full from two fingers already, and you knew it’d be nothing compared to his cock.
You pushed your body further down to help his fingers reach impossibly deeper inside you. The desire to feel every part of him fill you up was overwhelming, causing your hips to begin feverishly grinding down on his fingers.
“Mmm,” you moaned out, “Feel so full, wan’ feel good.”
Jeongguk’s pupils dilated at your neediness for him. You were already submitting yourself to him so well after only having used his fingers, which was the most exciting reminder that you did in fact love the way he made you feel. No one would be able to compare to how good he was with your body.
“Be patient, love. I’ll take care of you”
He began to set a stable pace while watching his fingers pump in and out of your leaking hole, creating a squelching sound due to the fluid fighting against his fingers to roll down your thighs. 
“So wet baby..” He groaned.
 “Just for y-you” You heaved, heavily exhaling from your mouth from the pleasure as you continued to rock your hips back and forth to match the speed.
“Yea?” He smugly smirked as he picked up the pace, scissoring his fingers to stretch out your plush walls and find the gummy tissue inside of you, “This pussy’s all for me?” 
“Oh fuck— yea! All for you, just for you” You babbled.
The mix of his rapid movements and the repeated stimulation of your sweet spot had you rolling your eyes back, tightening your grip on the porcelain sink behind you as you fought to keep your wobbly legs from giving out.
He watched as you threw your head back and tightened your thighs around his moving hand. Your walls pulsed around his curled fingers as you felt your high rapidly approach you due to his relentless movements. The knot in your stomach was dangerously close to bursting, so much so that you even began to hear the ringing in your ears.
“Shit— ah, gukkie! ‘m so close” Losing all composure, you began to mindlessly beg for release while you barely held on to hold it back as per instruction.
And just as you were on the verge of tipping over, Jeongguk seized his fingers from your body completely, eliciting a loud whine from your swollen lips.
The protest was short-lived as Jeongguk was quick to raise his fingers to your mouth, tapping twice and leaving the residue of your fluids on your lips.
“Suck” He ordered, pushing his fingers inside of your mouth as he felt your tongue roll around them. Once sucked clean, he pulled back his digits with a small pop of your lips that quickly melted back to an upset pout.
“Want you to cum around my cock, princess” He manhandled your body on top of the sink counter and landed a slap to the side of your thigh, helping you sit comfortably because he knew the last thing you’d be able to do is stand after he was done with you. “You gonna let me?” He asked, to which you quickly responded with a yes.
You admired his physique as he worked quickly to unzip his jeans once he heard your answer, pulling his underwear along with the pants in a quick motion. His painfully erect cock stood tall and proud with drops of precum sitting prettily on the slit, ready to bury itself inside of your heat.
Your eyes fought to decide what to focus on as you watched Jeongguk’s inked hand snuggly wrap around his cock, fisting it a few times to coat the shaft with his natural lube.
On the other hand, his beautiful face was slightly scrunched in pleasure, knitted eyebrows sitting atop his shut eyes as he concentrated on pumping himself in preparation.
“Shit” His parted lips allowed the quiet puffs and hisses to escape from his mouth, quickly pressing it shut once he was ready to be inside of you.
You parted your legs slightly in eagerness to feel him inside of you, letting him align his engorged tip on your hole. “T-too big” you whined when he pushed in.
“ ‘s only the tip, baby” He never stopped sinking himself deeper, “I know you can take it, my sweet girl” And with that, he bottomed out, enjoying your beautiful moans as you adjusted to his girthy size. Your legs wrapped around Jeongguk’s waist not only for support but to pull his body closer to yours.
His hands formed a steady grip on your thighs and began to move his hips rhythmically, soaking in the growing sound of skin slapping as well as the feel of your juices coating his flexed thighs.
His breathing grew shaky when he decided to look down at where your bodies met, his cock perfectly fitting into your tight and pretty pussy. “Oh, yes, yes, yes” Your lips trembled as the string of yesses spilled from your mouth.
“Fuck” He tugged on his bottom lip with his teeth. “Such a perfect cunt” His voice is heavy with lust, working the obscene words towards the heat pooling in your belly once again.
“Mhmm, you fuck me so good- ahh” Your voice got stuck in his throat when he delivered a particularly hard thrust. “Yea? Only I can fuck you like this, hm?” 
By this point, he was now pounding into your pussy mercilessly, almost as if he was trying to get his point across. “Say it baby, say ‘m the only one who fucks you this good” 
It was hard to speak when Jeongguk was drilling his dick into your insides, rubbing all of your sweet spots at once and successfully knocking all of the thoughts out of your head. “O-only you… Fuck me t-this good, only you Jeongguk”
You felt his dick throb inside of you in satisfaction with the words that came out of your mouth, motivating him to further defend his point. “Princess like you needs a man to fuck her right, yea? Not a little boy.” 
Your orgasm was approaching quickly, as was his. “Tell me, would Hyunjin fuck you silly like I do? Hm? Tell me, baby” His tone was soft, not comforting soft, but more like the calm before a storm.
He expressed his underlying anger through his movements, becoming more erratic at the thought of any other man having you spread out for them. 
“ ‘m yours gukkie, no one else’s ” The pain of holding back your orgasm began to become unbearable, causing your eyes to screw shut to avoid the tears falling.
“Thats right, no one else can know your body like I do, touch you like I do, have you all spread out ‘n pretty like I do” His hips began to stutter in movement but never failed to deliciously stimulate your insides, “No one– fuck, can love you like I do”
Your eyes shot open at his foreign-feeling words after not hearing them for a while. Tears from the stimulation fell from your glossy eyes onto your pink flushed cheeks, and even with mascara running down them, Jeongguk still thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world. He’d die before he’d ever lose you without a fight. 
“Can cum now baby, cum with me” His breathy voice lingered in your ears, feeling his hips ram into your own one last time before his thrusts became slow and sharp.
“Look at me when you do” He used one of his free hands to gently wipe away the hair that stuck to the thin layer of sweat on your forehead. 
He stared deeply into your eyes lovingly, letting you know how much you truly mean to him despite the obstacles that come across too often. “I l-love you, love you, so much” you whispered through shallow pants. 
“Don’t stop— ‘m coming Jeongguk, please, right th-ere, Oh fuck” You finally relaxed your tense body and allowed yourself to tip over the edge, feeling Jeongguk pound himself into you as he pumped his long ropes of white cum deep inside. “That’s right, princess. Cum for me, shit” 
The white light consumed your entire vision, being able to see nothing but Jeongguk’s adoring gaze as you fell apart beneath him. His whiny groans went up a few octaves in your ears as his own high washed over him.
Your orgasms came in sync, allowing the two of you to experience an elevated state of euphoria together. Your heat swallowed his twitching cock repeatedly into your throbbing hole while you rode out your highs.
He admired the way your pretty face melted into pleasure as you came, mouth agape and so inviting for him to press his lips against, and he just couldn't hold back.
He caught your plump lips in his, taking his time in savoring your taste while he slowly began to decrease the speed of his pumps before softly pulling out.
The post-orgasm haze began to hit you hard, making your limbs feel like jelly and giving you the extreme desire to hold Jeongguk close.
You knew that if you held him now, you'd stick by him all the way to his apartment. While it didn't seem like a bad idea at the moment, you knew that you needed to be more level-headed to begin approaching this situation.
While you caught your breath, he took a second to admire the collective mess the two of you had made, a combination of your fluids pooled at your entrance and threatening to spill.
He used a single digit to push the mix of release back inside of your abused cunt, earning a small no more Jeongguk, before retrieving it.
 “Just making sure nothing goes to waste” He bent down to wrap his fingers around the thin lace material of your panties, sliding them back towards your hips to cover you up.
“It's gonna run down my thighs, gukkie” You jutted out your bottom lip slightly, “At least everyone will know you have someone who fucks you right” He cockily smiled, landing a kiss on the crown of your head. 
“Not funny, 's not like anyone would want to approach me while I look like this anyway” You pointed to your sex hair and smeared mascara. “Bet that guy Hyunjin would anyway, probably still waiting on you right now too” 
“Quiet” The sound of skin-on-skin contact mixed with the sound of Jeongguk chuckle, earning a slap to his bicep at the Hyunjin mention. As much as you’d like to forget and move on, you knew he was most likely still waiting for you.
“Hmm, y’know what?” He looked down at his spread-out hand, sliding off the band of silver from his pointer finger, reaching out to take your hand in his. “What are you doing?” You questioned only to earn no response as he simply continued to transfer the jewelry onto your ring finger.
“There you go, now he’ll even know you already have someone who loves you right too.” 
And if it wasn't the disheveled hair or slight sheen coating your inner thighs, it’d be the JK initials that sit so perfectly around your ring finger that’d let anyone in the club, especially Hyunjin, know that you weren’t alone. 
“You’re all mine.”
A/N: who caught the seven references 🙈
1K notes · View notes
fuckyeahdindjarin · 8 months
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Pressing
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Jack Daniels x F!Reader, dude ranch AU
A Palomino oneshot, but can be read on its own
{ Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }
Rating: E
Summary: Jack marks you as his in an unexpected way.
Warnings: PWP, Jack's belt leaves an impression on reader's skin, unintentional branding, unprotected sex, long-distance relationship, desperate and feral cowboy, no physical descriptions of Reader, very lightly edited, written as part of the Palomino universe, set after the end of the series, but can be read as a oneshot on its own
Word count: 1.4k
Notes: This little story came from an ask sent in by 🐴 anon in December 2022, which I have long lost, about a song that mentions a guy’s belt buckle leaving marks on his girlfriend's inner thigh while fucking. Naturally, they thought of Jack’s belt. 🐴 anon, if you’re still here, thank you for the inspo and for your patience ❤️
Also thank you to @lola-lola-lola for getting me horn knee about our cowboy again 😘 Writing Palomino smut first thing in the year was not on my 2024 bingo card, and I’m not mad about it!
Cutest dividers by @firefly-graphics.
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It’s been two and a half months. Week after wretched week of phone calls on stolen time. Day after day of aching to reach through the phone screen and the distance between you to touch him.
It’s hard being hundreds and hundreds of miles apart. It’s even harder on weeks when he’s in the mountains with no reception. Harder to find time to call when you have to work late and he has to get up at dawn.
But you endure it all - for days like this. 
It’s a rare weekend off in the high season, with Teak pulling back-to-back pack trips to cover for him, joking that he can’t take all his sighing and pining for his Darlin’ anymore.
Jack takes the last flight out on Friday night, arriving first thing on Saturday morning, before the city - or you - wake up. You’re half-buried under the duvet when the jingle of the key in the door jolts you from shallow slumber.
On unsteady feet, you wobble out into the hallway, crashing into the walls as you go, balance off-kilter from sleep.
But it’s ok - he catches you, all white t-shirt and tight blue jeans. Incognito, if you will, in casual sneakers, but the cowboy hat is on as always. You knock it off post-haste, burying your face in the side of his neck in a desperate need for contact, his warmth seeping into your skin and wrapping you up in the deepest of comforts.
His hair is longer than he usually keeps it, and your fingers twist into his tousled curls when you pull back, taking in the stubble on his sharp jawline, and his tired eyes. But before you can say anything, he leans in and slants his lips over yours.
The taste of airplane coffee is sharp and bitter on his tongue as he kisses you deep and messy. You startle when he suddenly slams the door shut behind him, not realising it was still open, and his beat-up weekend bag is tossed carelessly behind him somewhere in the doorway. 
The legs of the kitchen table scrape jarringly against the floor as he crowds you onto it, big hands cupping your ass and pulling you against his straining erection through his jeans.
‘Fuck, it’s been too long, darlin’.’ His voice is gravelly from an apparently sleepless overnight flight, and hearing his voice finally on the shell of your ear has you whimpering needily.
‘Can’t wait any more,’ he growls, desperation thick in his voice.
With a flick of his wrists, he shucks off your ratty sleep shirt, eyes hooded as he gazes down at your tits, like he can’t believe he’s actually touching you. Cupping them, soft and heavy, with reverent, rope-worn palms, he sucks one nipple after the other between his lips, making you squirm against him and leak wet and sticky between your thighs.
Strong hands hold you in place easily as you buck, the scrape of his moustache almost painful on your over-sensitive skin, nerve endings on fire after being deprived for long weeks. 
Too impatient to wait, you tug your pyjamas shorts down your hips and kick them off clumsily, panties tangled in your damp folds as you writhe under him. 
You feel the breath catch in his broad chest at the peek of your pussy, a rapidly growing damp spot darkening your cotton underwear. Hooking his thumb under the fabric, he tugs it unceremoniously to the side, baring you to him. 
‘Look at all this,’ he marvels, tracing the fleshy pad of his thumb through your folds, making you arch clean off the table. ‘So wet for me and you’ve barely woken up.’
‘Been thinking about you the while night,’ you admit, hips twitching as you chase his touch. ‘Couldn’t sleep.’
‘Did you touch yourself, darlin’?’
You shake your head vehemently. ‘No. Wanted your fingers. Your cock.’
His nostrils flare at your answer, unabashedly possessive in the way he looms over you. 
‘Good girl,’ he murmurs into your throat, nosing the side of your neck while thick fingers thrum against your clit. ‘I was so hard for you the whole fuckin’ flight.’ 
As if to prove it to you - not that you need it - he rolls his hips into your inner thigh, the hard bulge undeniable.
You mewl, hooking your ankles around his waist. ‘Fuck me now, Jack - please.’
There’s a wordless fumble for the solid sterling flask bottle of his belt buckle, his usual level-headed composure nowhere to be found as he pushes down his jeans with shaking hands, just enough to pull his cock out of its denim confines - 
And then he thrusts home inside you.
After months of only your fingers, it’s a stretch. But what a delicious stretch it is.
You feel him throb deep inside you, feel the thunder of a pained groan in his chest, pressed up against yours. Your cunt is all slick and give to his determined strokes as he begins to move. 
There’s no finesse, hardly any awareness, when he fucks frantically into you. His solid weight pins you to the table, and it rattles precariously under your back.
Your legs are splayed obscenely wide and bent at the knees while Jack pounds into your wet heat, eyes wild and mouth hanging open, watching your tits bounce as you take him, your nails digging into the cotton of his white t-shirt. He never did take off your panties, and the fabric rubs your clit just so with every one of his thrusts, rapidly sending you to the edge.
In the back of your mind, you’re aware of the coarse scrape of his jeans against your inner thighs, and something digs hard into the tender skin, the repeated motion dulling the sensation to an almost numb pressure. 
When you cum, you’re crying out before your head catches up, your body convulsing with blind bliss as your pussy clenches around him in a hot rush. The blood pounding in your ears is drowned out by your chants of his name, and then his hips start to stutter and his whole body tenses, frantic eyes on yours as he teeters on the edge. 
‘Where, darlin’?’
‘Inside me.’
The words have barely left you and he’s coming, broken pants against your lips as he comes and comes and comes - spilling inside you, filling you to the brim until he’s empty, turned inside out.
Slumped, boneless on top of you, humid pants pressed into your shoulder, his fingers tangle with yours, squeezing as if to let you know that he’s here.
You almost doze off, the gradually slowing rise and fall of the cowboy’s broad chest a comforting anchor, when he rouses you with gentle lips along your jaw. You giggle, feeling him softening and sliding out of you, making a mess of your kitchen table. 
‘Mornin’ darlin’,’ he says somewhat belatedly, warm eyes crinkling as he smiles at you.
‘Morning,’ you grin back, and when he shifts, you wince at the ache in your joints from being pinned to one spot for this very vigorous wake up call. His hands smooth over your legs in apology, and you jump when his fingertips brush over somewhere at the juncture of your upper thigh that is surprisingly sore.
‘What’s that?’ you ask, puzzled.
Jack doesn’t answer, curiously quiet. You look down to where he’s bracketed between your legs, watching him trace his index finger over the unmistakable imprint of his distinct belt buckle on the inside of your thigh, where it’s been digging into your skin the whole time. 
He glances at you. ‘I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?’
‘No, you didn’t,’ you give him a knowing grin. ‘And are you really sorry, cowboy?’
He doesn’t even have the decency to look sheepish. Gently pinching your swollen folds together, he groans when a milky bead of his cum dribbles out of you, running down the inside of your leg and smearing onto the flask-shaped impression.
‘Ain’t sorry about somethin’ that looks this good on you, darlin’.’
‘Could’ve asked me before you branded me, you know,’ you half-joke, running your own finger along the deep lines carved into your skin, for now.
‘Beggin’ your pardon, I tend to forget my manners when I’m balls deep in a pussy as sweet as yours,’ he retorts, one eyebrow arching when he feels you shiver at his words.
You huff in jest, ‘Doesn’t sound like much of an apology if you asked me.’
‘Whatcha want, darlin’? Me on my hands and knees for you?’
Heat flashes under your skin, from your cheeks down to your toes, and Jack’s eyes darken as his tongue wets his bottom lip. ‘Alright. I hear you loud and clear, ma’am.’
Slowly, he sinks onto his knees in front of you, his joints creaking endearingly as he goes, and you can’t help but tease, ‘Easy there, cowboy.’
The wicked tip of his tongue peeks out, and you bite your lip in a moan when it cleverly traces the outline of the belt buckle on your skin, ending in a playful nip that pulls a gasp from you.
With an unapologetically smug grin, Jack winks. ‘I’m only just gettin’ started, darlin’.’
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Note: Thank you for reading ❤️ I’ve missed these two, and if you’re new to Palomino, I hope you’ll give the series a chance!
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fr0stf4ll · 1 month
Text
Forge of starlight - Part 6
paring; Azriel x reader
summary; In the heart of Velaris, a skilled blacksmith's quiet life is turned upside down when unexpected bonds begin to form with the enigmatic Spymaster of the Night Court. As she navigates the challenges of her craft and the complexities of newfound relationships, she discovers that love and loyalty may be the strongest forces of all in a world where darkness often lingers just beyond the light.
word count ; 7.7k
warning; /
notes; Pretty big chapter again today, i hope that you guys will like it. I'm wondering if you guys would like me to do open request for azriel or other characters of the ACOTAR universe ? bisous bisous and see you tomorrowwwww //>_<//
here is the link for part 5 or part 7
The first light of dawn didn't had yet to touch the sky when you quietly slipped out of bed, the soft creak of the wooden floorboards barely audible in the stillness of the early morning. The house was cloaked in shadows, the only light coming from the faint, silvery glow of the moon filtering through the curtains. You moved with practiced ease, pulling on your training clothes—a simple but sturdy outfit made for movement and endurance.
Once dressed, you padded softly to Alex’s room, where the young boy was still deeply asleep, sprawled across his bed with one arm hanging off the side. His peaceful expression made you pause for a moment, a soft smile tugging at your lips. But as much as you hated to wake him, you knew it was time to start the day.
Gently, you placed a hand on his shoulder and shook him awake. “Alex, it’s time to get up,” you whispered.
A soft growl emanated from under the covers as Alex buried his face deeper into his pillow, clearly not ready to leave the comfort of his bed. “Just five more minutes, Nana,” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.
You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “You know we can’t be late for training. Come on, up you get.”
With a reluctant groan, Alex slowly peeled himself out of bed, rubbing his eyes as he sat up. His hair was a wild mess, sticking out in all directions, and he blinked blearily at you, still half-asleep. “Why do we have to train so early?” he grumbled, though there was no real bite in his words.
“Because,” you said with a smile, “this is the best time of day. The city’s quiet, the air is fresh, and it’s just us and the forest. You’ll feel better once we’re out there.”
Alex sighed, but he nodded, already moving to get dressed. “Okay, okay, I’m coming.”
Within a few minutes, the two of you were ready, your footsteps silent as you slipped out of the house and into the cool pre-dawn air. The sky above was still mostly dark, with only the faintest hint of light on the horizon where the sun would soon rise. The streets of Velaris were quiet, the city still asleep, and the world felt hushed and peaceful as you made your way towards the forest.
As you approached the gates of Velaris, you spotted the familiar figures of the guards stationed there, keeping watch over the entrance to the city. These were the same guards you saw every morning on your way to the clearing, and over time, you had come to know them well.
“Morning, Y/N! Alex!” one of the guards called out with a friendly wave as you approached. He was a tall, broad-shouldered male with a beard that always seemed to be impeccably groomed, despite the early hour. His name was Rylan, and he had a reputation for being one of the friendliest guards in Velaris.
“Morning, Rylan,” you greeted with a smile. “Quiet night?”
“Quiet as can be,” Rylan replied with a grin. “Though I’m not sure how you two manage to get up this early nearly every day. I’m just glad I’m the one on watch and not the one doing all that training.”
Alex, still rubbing the last traces of sleep from his eyes, gave Rylan a small wave. “Morning, Rylan. You should join us one day. Nana’s training is tough, but it’s fun.”
Rylan chuckled, shaking his head. “I think I’ll leave the tough stuff to you young folks. Besides, someone’s got to keep watch while you’re out there.”
Another guard, a younger male named Darian, leaned over with a teasing grin. “Don’t let him fool you, Alex. Rylan here used to be quite the fighter back in his day. He’s just gotten soft with all these night shifts.”
Rylan rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Says the one who can barely lift a sword without complaining about his back.”
You laughed, enjoying the banter between the two guards. “Maybe we should all train together sometime. Keep everyone sharp.”
Rylan held up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright, I’ll think about it. But for now, you two should get going. The forest awaits.”
You nodded, giving them both a wave as you and Alex continued on your way, the guards’ laughter fading into the background as you left the city behind and entered the forest.
The path through the trees was familiar, one you had walked countless times before. The forest was alive with the sounds of nature—the rustle of leaves in the breeze, the distant call of birds just beginning to wake, and the soft crunch of leaves underfoot. The air was cool and crisp, carrying the earthy scent of the woods, and you felt yourself relax as you breathed it in.
Alex, now fully awake, walked beside you, his earlier grumpiness replaced by the quiet focus that always came with these early morning sessions. “Do you think we’ll see any animals today?” he asked, his voice hushed as if he didn’t want to disturb the peace of the forest.
“Maybe,” you replied with a smile. “The forest is full of life at this time of day. If we’re lucky, we might catch a glimpse of a deer or two.”
The clearing came into view a few minutes later, a peaceful spot nestled deep within the trees. It was a place of quiet solitude, far enough from the city that you could train in peace, but close enough that you could return quickly if needed. The ground was soft and even, covered in a thin layer of grass, and the trees around the perimeter provided a natural barrier, shielding you from prying eyes.
As you stepped into the clearing, the first light of dawn began to break over the horizon, casting the forest in a soft, golden glow. The sky above was slowly transitioning from deep blue to shades of pink and orange, and the beauty of the scene was enough to take your breath away.
Alex, standing beside you, let out a small sigh of contentment. “I guess you’re right, Nana. This really is the best time of day.”
You smiled down at him, ruffling his hair affectionately. “I knew you’d come around. Now, let’s get to work. We’ve got a lot to do before the sun fully rises.”
With that, the two of you began your morning routine, the clearing filled with the sounds of training—sharp breaths, the swish of weapons through the air, and the quiet, steady rhythm of feet moving across the ground. The world around you was waking up, but in that moment, it was just you, Alex, and the peaceful solitude of the forest, ready to face whatever the day might bring.
The clearing was bathed in the soft, golden light of the early morning as you and Alex moved through your training routine. The air was cool, refreshing, and filled with the scent of damp earth and pine, a perfect setting for the physical exertion that awaited you both. 
You began with the basics, going through a series of warm-up exercises to get the blood flowing and muscles ready. Alex mirrored your movements, his focus sharp and determined despite the early hour. He had come a long way since you first started training him, his small frame now stronger and more agile with each passing day.
Once the warm-up was complete, you moved on to sword training. You handed Alex a wooden practice sword, and together, you began a series of drills, the rhythmic clashing of wood echoing through the clearing.
“Remember to keep your guard up,” you instructed, your voice calm but firm as you parried his strikes. “You’re doing well, but don’t let your focus slip.”
Alex nodded, his brow furrowed in concentration as he adjusted his stance and brought his sword up to block your next move. The two of you moved in a synchronized dance, your swords connecting and separating with precise, practiced movements. After a few more exchanges, you could see that Alex was getting into the rhythm, his confidence growing with each successful block and strike.
“Good,” you said, stepping back to give him space. “Now, let’s try something different.”
You set the wooden swords aside and walked over to a small area of the clearing where you had set up a simple target—a wooden post with a painted bullseye on it. You handed Alex a bow and a quiver of arrows, watching as he adjusted his grip on the bowstring.
“Archery is about precision and control,” you explained, demonstrating the proper stance and how to draw the bow. “You need to find your center, steady your breathing, and focus on the target. Don’t rush the shot; let the arrow fly naturally.”
Alex nodded, following your instructions carefully as he nocked an arrow and pulled back the string. You could see the determination in his eyes, the way he focused entirely on the target in front of him.
“Relax your shoulders a bit,” you advised, moving behind him to gently adjust his stance. “And keep your wrist steady. There you go—now, when you’re ready, release.”
He did as you instructed, and the arrow flew from the bow with a satisfying twang, embedding itself in the outer ring of the target. Alex’s face lit up with a mixture of surprise and pride at his success.
“Nice shot!” you praised, giving him an encouraging smile. “You’re getting the hang of it. Let’s try a few more, and focus on refining your technique.”
As Alex continued to practice, you took the opportunity to stretch, easing your muscles after the earlier sword drills. You moved through a series of stretches, leaning into each one with practiced ease. As you stretched your legs, your body moving into a graceful split, you kept an eye on Alex, offering tips and guidance as he shot arrow after arrow.
“Remember to keep your core engaged,” you advised, your voice calm as you reached forward, your fingertips grazing the ground. “It’ll help you stay steady. And don’t forget to follow through with your shot. Let the energy flow all the way from your feet to your fingertips.”
Alex, now fully immersed in his practice, nodded at your words, making the small adjustments you suggested. His shots grew more consistent, each one landing closer to the center of the target as he honed his technique.
After several rounds of archery practice, Alex finally lowered the bow, breathing heavily but with a satisfied smile on his face. He had clearly made progress, and it showed in the way he carried himself—more confident, more self-assured.
You finished your stretches and stood, rolling your shoulders to ease the tension. “Great job, Alex. You’re improving with every shot.”
He beamed at your praise, though he still looked a little unsure. “Thanks, Nana. But I think I still need more practice.”
You chuckled, ruffling his hair as you often did. “We all do. But that’s what training is for. You’ve done well today.”
Feeling the morning wear on and satisfied with the training session, you led Alex in a series of cool-down stretches, guiding him through each movement to prevent stiffness and ensure his muscles recovered properly. He followed your lead, the two of you moving in sync as the morning light grew stronger, casting long shadows across the clearing.
As the session came to a close, you both stood in the clearing, the sounds of the forest waking up around you. Alex stretched his arms above his head, a yawn escaping him as the exertion of the morning began to catch up with him.
“That was a good session,” he said, his voice a mix of tiredness and satisfaction.
You nodded, glancing up at the sky where the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, bathing the world in a soft, golden light. “It was. But now, I think it’s time we head back home and get some breakfast. What do you think?”
Alex grinned, his earlier grumpiness forgotten. “Definitely. I’m starving.”
With that, the two of you made your way back through the forest, the familiar path leading you back toward the city of Velaris. As you walked, you couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of contentment. The morning had been well spent, and as you returned home with Alex by your side, you knew you were ready to face whatever the day had in store.
After finishing your morning training, you and Alex returned to the house, the warmth of the interior a welcome contrast to the cool, crisp air outside. The shop could wait for a little while longer; right now, breakfast was calling, and you both needed to refuel after the exertion of the morning.
As you moved through the house, you could hear the soft sounds of Alex humming a tune to himself as he washed up, clearly in high spirits after the training session. You took the opportunity to freshen up as well, quickly washing away the sweat and dirt from the morning’s exercises. Once you were both clean and dressed in more comfortable clothes, you headed to the kitchen together to prepare breakfast.
The kitchen was filled with the comforting aromas of freshly brewed tea, warm bread, and sizzling eggs. Alex had insisted on helping, and you were more than happy to let him. He was getting quite skilled at cooking, and you enjoyed the quiet moments you spent together, preparing meals and chatting about whatever came to mind.
With breakfast ready, you both carried the plates to the living room, settling down on the couch with your food. The sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room, and you felt a sense of contentment as you began to eat.
But it wasn’t long before Alex’s curiosity got the better of him. As he took a bite of his toast, he shot you a mischievous look, his eyes gleaming with barely-contained excitement.
“So, Nana,” he began, his tone teasing, “what’s this I hear about you having dinner with Azriel tonight?”
You paused mid-bite, raising an eyebrow at him. “And where exactly did you hear that?”
Alex shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant, but his grin gave him away. “Oh, you know, just some rumours going around… mostly from you and him talking last night. So, is it true? Are you going on a date with him?”
You couldn’t help but laugh at his antics, shaking your head in amusement. “Yes, Alex, it’s true. Azriel asked me to have dinner with him tonight.”
Alex’s grin widened, and he waggled his eyebrows in a way that was clearly meant to be playful. “Ooooh, a date with the Spymaster! Sounds serious, Nana. You must really like him.”
You felt a warmth rise to your cheeks, but you kept your tone light. “I do like him, Alex. He’s… different from anyone I’ve met before. But it’s just dinner. No need to get too carried away.”
“Uh-huh,” Alex said, his tone clearly teasing. “Just dinner. Sure. But you know, Nana, I’ve seen the way he looks at you. It’s not just dinner to him.”
You took a sip of your tea, trying to hide the smile that was tugging at your lips. “And how exactly does he look at me, Mr. Expert?”
Alex leaned back on the couch, crossing his arms with a smug expression. “Like you’re the most important person in the world. Like he’d do anything for you. I mean, I’m just a kid, but even I can tell when someone’s got it bad.”
You chuckled, reaching over to ruffle his hair. “You’re too smart for your own good, you know that?”
He grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “I know. But seriously, Nana, I’m happy for you. Azriel’s a good guy, and I think you two would be great together.”
You smiled softly at his words, feeling a swell of affection for the boy who had become like family to you. “Thanks, Alex. That means a lot to me.”
For a moment, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, enjoying the warmth of the morning and the simple pleasure of each other’s company. The teasing might have been playful, but there was a truth to it that you couldn’t deny. Azriel was special, and the thought of spending more time with him, of exploring whatever was growing between you, filled you with both excitement and a little bit of nervousness.
As you finished your breakfast, Alex gave you one last grin. “Just promise me one thing, Nana.”
“What’s that?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
“If you and Azriel do end up together, you’ve got to let me be the one to give the toast at your wedding.”
You burst out laughing, shaking your head at his cheekiness. “Alright, Alex, you’ve got yourself a deal. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves, okay?”
“Deal,” he said with a wink, clearly satisfied with himself.
With breakfast finished, you both got up to clear the table, the lighthearted mood lingering in the air. As you moved about the house, preparing for the day ahead, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of anticipation building. Tonight’s dinner with Azriel was going to be special—you could feel it. And whatever the future held, you knew you were ready to face it, with Alex by your side and, perhaps, Azriel as well.
The day had settled into a comfortable rhythm as you and Alex worked quietly in the shop. The clinking of metal and the gentle hum of the forge created a soothing background noise as you focused on your tasks. You were working on a set of generic weapons to display in the shop—well-crafted swords and daggers that could be sold to walk-in customers. Alex was nearby, organising the shelves and occasionally asking you questions about the different weapons you had made.
The morning had passed without incident, the shop quiet but steady with the occasional customer coming in to browse. It was a typical day in Velaris, and you found yourself enjoying the calm after a busy few weeks.
Just as you were finishing up the polishing of a particularly intricate dagger, the soft chime of the bell above the shop door rang out, signaling the arrival of a new customer. You glanced up, expecting to see a familiar face, but instead, a stranger stepped into the shop.
The man was dressed in a dark, hooded cloak that obscured much of his face, only his sharp, calculating eyes visible beneath the shadow of the hood. He moved with a quiet grace, his footsteps almost silent as he approached the counter where Alex was standing.
“Good day,” Alex greeted the man with his usual cheerful demeanor. “Can I help you with something?”
The man’s eyes flickered over the various weapons displayed around the shop, but he made no move to examine any of them. Instead, he reached into his cloak and produced a sealed letter, placing it on the counter with a deliberate motion.
“I have a request,” the man said, his voice low and measured. “Everything you need to know is in this letter.”
Alex looked at the letter with curiosity before glancing back up at the man. “We usually discuss orders in person. Can you give me a bit more detail about what you’re looking for?”
The man’s expression remained unreadable, his eyes narrowing slightly. “The details are all in the letter. The payment will be made upon delivery of the weapon.”
Alex frowned, clearly not satisfied with the vague response. “We typically work on a two-payment basis—half upfront, half upon delivery. It ensures that the materials and work are covered.”
The man didn’t respond to Alex’s statement. Instead, he simply pushed the letter closer to him, a silent insistence that the terms would be followed as written.
You had been listening from the back of the shop, where you were tending to the forge, but the strange exchange piqued your interest. Wiping your hands on a cloth, you stepped out from behind the counter and approached the mysterious customer, giving him a polite but curious look.
“Is there a problem?” you asked, your tone calm but with a slight edge of authority. You had dealt with difficult customers before, but there was something different about this one—something that put you on alert.
The man turned his attention to you, his gaze briefly scanning you as if assessing your worth. “No problem,” he said smoothly. “As I told the boy, everything you need to know is in the letter. The weapon must be crafted according to the specifications provided, and the payment will be made in full upon delivery.”
You exchanged a glance with Alex, who still looked uncertain, but you decided to take the letter and see for yourself what was so important. You picked up the sealed envelope, feeling the weight of it in your hand, and nodded to the man.
“Alright,” you said, your tone firm. “I’ll take a look at the request. But you should know that we don’t usually proceed without a down payment. It ensures that both parties are committed to the transaction.”
The man’s lips curled into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. “You’ll find the payment terms satisfactory once the weapon is delivered. The craftsmanship you’re known for will be well-compensated.”
With that, he turned on his heel and walked out of the shop, leaving the door to swing shut behind him with a soft click. You watched him go, a strange feeling settling in your gut. There was something off about the entire interaction, and you couldn’t shake the unease that lingered in the air.
Alex looked up at you, his brow furrowed. “That was… weird, right?”
You nodded slowly, still holding the letter in your hand. “Definitely weird. Let’s see what this is all about.”
Carefully, you broke the seal on the envelope and unfolded the letter inside. The parchment was of high quality, and the handwriting was elegant, almost too perfect. As you read through the contents, your unease grew.
The letter detailed a request for a weapon that was unlike any you had crafted before. It was to be a blade of ancient design, infused with a specific type of magic that was rarely practiced anymore. The materials required were rare and dangerous to obtain, including a metal that was said to only be found in the darkest parts of the continent. The weapon needed to be completed within a week—an almost impossible deadline given the complexity of the work.
You frowned as you read further, noting the vague references to the purpose of the weapon. The client mentioned only that it was intended for use against a formidable enemy, but there were no specifics given. The secrecy and urgency of the request set off alarm bells in your mind.
“This doesn’t feel right,” you muttered, half to yourself and half to Alex, who had moved closer to read over your shoulder.
“What do you mean?” Alex asked, his voice tinged with concern.
“The materials, the timeline, the secrecy… it’s all too much,” you replied, folding the letter and setting it down on the counter. “And the fact that he refuses to pay upfront is another red flag. Something about this feels… dangerous.”
Alex nodded, his expression serious. “So, what do we do? Are we going to take the order?”
You hesitated, torn between your curiosity and your instincts. The challenge of crafting such a weapon was undeniably intriguing, but the risks were high, and you didn’t like the idea of being drawn into something you didn’t fully understand.
“I’m not sure yet,” you said finally. “I need to think about it. Maybe do some research on the materials and the magic involved. But I’m not making any decisions until I know more.”
Alex nodded, trusting your judgment. “Alright. Just… be careful, Nana. This feels like it could be bigger than we realize.”
You gave him a reassuring smile, though the unease still lingered in your chest. “I will, Alex. Don’t worry. We’ll figure this out together.”
With that, you turned your attention back to the forge, the mysterious letter still weighing heavily on your mind. Whatever this order was, it had the potential to change everything—and not necessarily for the better.
——
The evening was drawing closer, and you found yourself in your apartment, standing in front of the mirror with a growing sense of frustration. You had been rifling through your wardrobe for what felt like an eternity, trying to find the perfect outfit for your date with Azriel. The more you looked, the more you second-guessed yourself, and now your room was strewn with discarded clothes, each one deemed "not quite right."
Alex was sitting on the edge of your bed, watching you with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. Stellan, your loyal white direwolf, was lying at the foot of the bed, his dark eyes following your every move with what seemed like a judgmental gaze.
You held up a tunic in front of the mirror, frowning at your reflection. "What do you think of this one?" you asked, turning slightly to get a better look.
Alex rolled his eyes dramatically, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Nana, aren't you like, over a hundred years old? And you're struggling to pick an outfit for a date? Seriously?"
You shot him a playful glare through the mirror. "Age has nothing to do with it, thank you very much. And picking the right outfit is important!"
Alex snorted, leaning back on his hands. "Uh-huh. Sure. But honestly, you look good in everything. I don't think Azriel's going to care what you wear."
You sighed, tossing the tunic onto the growing pile of rejected clothes. "Easy for you to say. You don't have to impress anyone."
Alex grinned, clearly enjoying the role reversal. "Oh, come on, Nana. It's just a date. You should be more worried about what you're going to say, not what you're going to wear."
You turned to face him, hands on your hips. "And what exactly do you suggest I say, oh wise one?"
He shrugged nonchalantly. "I dunno. Maybe start with 'Hey, Azriel, nice wings. Wanna fly me to the moon?'"
You burst out laughing, shaking your head at his antics. "I think I'll pass on that one."
Stellan, sensing that this was a lighter moment, let out a low huff, almost as if he was agreeing with Alex. The wolf’s eyes seemed to sparkle with amusement, and you could have sworn he was judging your fashion choices just as much as Alex was.
You sighed again and picked up a different top, this one more form-fitting. You held it up in front of the mirror, trying to gauge if it was too casual or too dressy.
Alex’s eyes narrowed as he examined the outfit with a critical eye. “Are your boobs bigger?” he asked, completely deadpan.
Your eyes widened, and you turned to him in mock horror. “What? Do I look like I’ve gained weight?”
Alex’s expression quickly shifted to one of concern as he realized his joke had backfired. “No, no! I didn’t mean that! You’re not fat, Nana, I promise!”
You couldn’t help but laugh at his flustered reaction, shaking your head as you tossed the shirt aside. “I’m just messing with you, Alex. Relax.”
He let out a sigh of relief, clearly relieved that you weren’t upset. “You had me worried for a second there.”
You smiled warmly at him, ruffling his hair as you walked past him to grab another option from the wardrobe. “You’re sweet, Alex. But seriously, does this look okay?”
You were dressed in a deep, midnight blue tunic that fell gracefully to mid-thigh, the intricate silver embroidery along the edges mimicking the swirling patterns of wind and shadows, reminiscent of the Night Court itself. The sleeves were fitted, flaring slightly at the wrists, ending in cuffs adorned with the same silver embroidery. Beneath the tunic, you wore black, form-fitting trousers that allowed for ease of movement, and knee-high boots made of soft, supple leather, both practical and stylish. A delicate silver chain belt sat low on your hips, catching the light with each movement.
To combat the winter chill, you had chosen a warm, dark jacket to wear over your tunic. The jacket was made of a rich, dark material, lined with soft fur along the collar and cuffs, providing both warmth and a touch of luxury. It complemented the rest of your outfit perfectly, giving you a regal yet grounded appearance.
Alex, who had been observing your preparations with a mix of amusement and interest, gave you an approving nod as you fastened the jacket. "Now that's what I’m talking about, Nana. You look amazing. Azriel’s going to be speechless."
You smiled, feeling a warmth in your chest that had nothing to do with the jacket. “Thanks, Alex. I think this is the one.”
Stellan, your ever-faithful direwolf, gave a low, approving rumble as if to agree. His dark eyes gleamed in the dim light of the room, his presence a comforting constant.
Just as you finished getting ready, there was a soft knock on the door. Your heart skipped a beat, knowing who it was. Alex, ever the eager one, darted to the door with a mischievous grin on his face.
“I’ll get it!” he called out, clearly excited to greet your guest.
You watched as Alex opened the door, revealing Azriel standing there, but tonight he looked different. Gone were his usual fighting leathers, replaced with something more relaxed yet still undeniably stylish. He wore a tailored, dark grey tunic with subtle silver accents that highlighted his broad shoulders, paired with black trousers that fit him perfectly. A deep, rich cloak hung loosely around his shoulders, the fabric swaying gently as he moved. The entire look was casual yet elegant, perfectly suited for a night out in Velaris.
Alex, not missing a beat, looked up at Azriel with a teasing grin. “Wow, you clean up nice, Azriel. Ready to take Nana out for the night?”
Azriel chuckled, a rare, genuine smile gracing his lips. “I think so, Alex. And you, Y/N…” His eyes softened as they took in your appearance. “You look stunning.”
A blush crept up your cheeks at his compliment, and you couldn’t help but smile. “Thank you, Azriel. You look quite handsome yourself.”
Alex, always quick with a quip, shot you a look that clearly said, “Told you so,” before turning back to Azriel. “Make sure she has fun, okay? And don’t worry about me—I’ll be just fine.”
You ruffled Alex’s hair affectionately, laughing at his antics. “There’s food on the counter if you get hungry, and Stellan will keep you company. Stay safe at home, alright?”
Alex grinned, giving you a mock salute. “Aye-aye, Captain. You two have fun.”
With a final glance at Alex and Stellan, you stepped out of the apartment, closing the door behind you. Azriel offered you his arm, which you took with a grateful smile, feeling a sense of warmth and comfort in his presence.
As you walked down the quiet streets of Velaris, the cold winter air nipping at your cheeks, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and anticipation. The stars above twinkled brightly, reflecting off the river as you made your way to your destination.
Azriel’s presence beside you was steady and reassuring, and as you walked together, he glanced over at you with a soft smile. “I’m glad you agreed to this, Y/N. Tonight feels… special.”
You returned his smile, feeling the truth in his words. “It does. I’m looking forward to it.”
The walk through Velaris was quiet and peaceful, with only the soft murmur of the city and the gentle rush of the Sidra River accompanying your steps. Azriel led you through winding streets, each more charming than the last, until you arrived at your destination—a small, secluded restaurant nestled at the edge of the city, overlooking the river.
The restaurant was a hidden gem, its entrance tucked between two tall buildings, with a beautifully carved wooden sign hanging above the door. Soft, golden light spilled from the windows, casting a warm glow onto the cobblestone street outside. As Azriel opened the door for you, you were greeted by the cozy, intimate atmosphere inside. The interior was all dark wood and rich, deep colors, with low-hanging chandeliers that gave off a soft, inviting light. The tables were set with fine linens and polished silver, each one adorned with a small vase of fresh flowers.
Azriel guided you to a corner table near a large window that offered a stunning view of the river, its waters shimmering under the starlit sky. The space was quiet, the other patrons speaking in hushed tones, as if respecting the privacy of each table.
“This place is beautiful,” you remarked, taking in the ambiance as you settled into your seat.
Azriel smiled, clearly pleased with your reaction. “I’m glad you like it. It’s one of my favorite places in the city—a bit of a hidden secret.”
You glanced around, noting the small details that made the place feel special—the soft music playing in the background, the delicate scent of the flowers, the way the light flickered gently from the candles on the tables. It was clear that Azriel had chosen this place with care, and the thoughtfulness of the gesture made your heart warm.
As you both perused the menu, the conversation flowed easily, beginning with the lighter topics of the day. After placing your orders, you found yourself curious about Azriel’s childhood, a side of him that you had never truly explored before.
“So,” you began with a playful smile, “tell me, what was it like growing up with Rhysand and Cassian? I imagine the three of you must have gotten into quite a bit of trouble.”
Azriel chuckled, a soft, genuine sound that made his eyes crinkle at the corners. “You could say that. Rhysand was always the leader, even back then, and Cassian… well, he was always looking for the next adventure. I was the quiet one, trying to keep them out of too much trouble, but somehow, I always ended up in the thick of it with them.”
You leaned forward, intrigued. “Any stories you’re willing to share?”
Azriel thought for a moment, a distant look in his eyes as he recalled memories from long ago. “There was this one time when we were barely teenagers. Rhys had this idea to sneak into the Night Court’s library after hours. There was this old, restricted section that we weren’t supposed to go near, full of ancient texts and magical tomes.”
You smiled, already picturing the scene. “Let me guess, Rhys wanted to read something forbidden?”
“Of course,” Azriel replied, his tone amused. “He convinced Cassian and me to come along, promising it would be worth it. We managed to sneak past the guards, and Rhys found a book he’d been eyeing for months. But as soon as he opened it, a magical trap triggered. The entire library lit up, alarms blaring. We barely made it out before the guards arrived.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “I’m surprised you didn’t get caught.”
“Oh, we did,” Azriel admitted with a grin. “And we were punished accordingly. But Rhys, being Rhys, somehow talked our way out of the worst of it. He’s always had a way with words.”
You could see the fondness in Azriel’s eyes as he spoke of his friends, the bonds they had formed over the years clearly unbreakable. It was a side of him you hadn’t seen often—relaxed, open, and willing to share pieces of himself that he usually kept hidden.
“And what about you?” Azriel asked, turning the conversation back to you. “What was your childhood like? I know you traveled a lot with your master, but there must have been some interesting moments along the way.”
You took a sip of your wine, considering how to answer. “It was… different. My master was strict, but he cared for me in his own way. I learned a lot from him, not just about blacksmithing, but about the world. We traveled to so many places, each with its own challenges and adventures. I suppose I grew up faster than most.”
Azriel nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “You must have seen and experienced so much. It’s no wonder you’re as skilled as you are.”
You smiled softly, appreciating his words. “I suppose I have. But I’ve always felt like there’s more to learn, more to explore. That’s what keeps me going.”
The conversation continued, flowing effortlessly as the night went on. The food arrived, each dish more delicious than the last, and you both took your time savoring the meal, the comfortable silence between you punctuated by occasional remarks about the flavors and presentation.
Eventually, as the meal began to wind down, Azriel leaned back in his chair, his gaze settling on you with a mix of curiosity and concern. “So, how are things at the shop? It seems like you’ve been busy lately.”
You nodded, setting down your fork. “Busy is an understatement. We’ve had a lot of orders coming in, which is great, but it’s been a bit overwhelming at times.”
Azriel’s brow furrowed slightly. “Anything in particular causing the stress?”
You hesitated for a moment, then decided to share the details of the strange order you had received that morning. “Actually, there was something unusual that came in today. A man came by with a sealed letter, requesting a weapon that’s… well, different from anything I’ve crafted before. The whole thing felt off, to be honest. He didn’t want to discuss the details in person, just handed over the letter and left.”
Azriel’s curiosity was piqued, his expression serious now. “What kind of weapon did he request?”
You described the contents of the letter, the specific materials required, the urgency of the timeline, and the vagueness of the client’s instructions. As you spoke, Azriel’s frown deepened, his concern evident.
“That does sound strange,” he said after a moment. “And dangerous. You’re right to be cautious.”
You nodded, grateful for his validation. “I’m not sure what to make of it. I’ve been debating whether to take the order at all. It feels like there’s more to this than I’m being told.”
Azriel leaned forward slightly, his tone gentle but firm. “I think you’re right to be wary. Whoever this client is, they might be hiding something. If you’re going to proceed with this, you should be prepared for anything.”
You appreciated his concern, and the protectiveness in his voice didn’t go unnoticed. “I’ll show you the letter when we head back. Maybe you can help me figure out what to do next.”
Azriel nodded, his gaze steady. “I’d like that. We’ll look at it together.”
The seriousness of the conversation lingered for a moment, but Azriel was quick to steer the topic back to something lighter, easing the tension and bringing back the relaxed atmosphere.
The dinner stretched on into the night, with more laughter, shared stories, and the easy comfort of each other's company. The restaurant had thinned out as other patrons gradually departed, leaving the two of you in a peaceful, intimate silence. It felt as though the world had narrowed down to just the two of you, the rest of Velaris fading into the background.
When the time finally came to leave, Azriel stood and helped you into your jacket, the warmth of his hands lingering on your shoulders. As you stepped out into the cold night air, he reached for your hand without hesitation, his fingers intertwining with yours in a way that felt natural, as if they were always meant to be there.
The two of you walked side by side through the quiet streets of Velaris, the city bathed in the soft, silver light of the moon. The stars twinkled brightly above, casting a gentle glow over the cobblestones, and the distant sound of the Sidra River added a soothing backdrop to the night.
The winter air was crisp, and when a particularly cold breeze swept through, Azriel instinctively drew you closer, his arm wrapping around your shoulders to shield you from the chill. You welcomed the warmth of his body, the steady beat of his heart a comforting rhythm against your side.
As you walked, your thumb gently caressed the back of his hand, feeling the roughness of the scarred skin beneath your touch. You noticed how his breath hitched slightly, and when you glanced up at him, you saw something flicker in his eyes—a mix of surprise and something deeper, something tender.
Azriel’s hands had always been a point of insecurity for him, scarred from countless battles and years of wielding shadows and steel. But you had never once questioned them, never looked at them with anything other than acceptance. In fact, you had always found them strong, capable, and a part of who he was—someone you respected and cared for deeply.
The simple act of you caressing his hand, without hesitation or judgment, made Azriel’s heart flutter in a way he wasn’t entirely prepared for. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes about the way you saw him—not as the scarred, hardened warrior, but as someone worthy of affection and tenderness.
He glanced down at you, his gaze softening as he spoke. “You never asked about my hands.”
You looked up at him, your expression gentle. “There’s nothing to ask. They’re a part of you, Azriel. And I’ve never seen them as anything but… you.”
His heart swelled at your words, and he tightened his grip on your hand slightly, as if anchoring himself to the moment. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.
You smiled up at him, your thumb still brushing gently against his skin. “Always.”
The two of you continued walking, the conversation shifting to lighter topics as the night unfolded around you. The streets of Velaris were nearly empty, the city’s usual hustle and bustle replaced by the peaceful quiet of the late hour. The stars above seemed to shine even brighter, casting a silvery glow over everything and creating an almost magical atmosphere.
As you walked, you found yourself asking a question that had been on your mind. “Azriel, what do you think life will be like for you in the next few years?”
He paused, considering your question as he looked up at the night sky. “Honestly? I think it’ll be much the same as it is now. My duties as the Spymaster of the Night Court will keep me busy—there’s always something to uncover, some threat to deal with. And, of course, Cassian will never stop making jokes at my expense.”
You chuckled at that, picturing the constant banter between Azriel and Cassian. “I’m sure he keeps things interesting.”
Azriel smiled, his gaze shifting back to you. “He does. But… I think I’m starting to appreciate the moments of peace more, the times when I can step back and just… be.”
“And what about you?” he asked, his tone curious. “What do you see in the next few years?”
You took a moment to think about it, your eyes drifting to the beautiful city around you. “I think I’ll stay in Velaris for a long time. Alex and I have built something special here, and I want to see it grow. The shop is doing well, and I’d like to keep developing it, maybe even expand one day. Stellan will keep us company, of course.”
Azriel nodded, listening intently. “That sounds… peaceful. It suits you.”
You smiled softly, feeling a sense of contentment in the vision you were painting. But as you walked, the conversation took a natural pause, and you both found yourselves stopping, turning to face each other in the quiet street.
There was something unspoken hanging in the air, a tension that had been building throughout the night, and it felt like the moment to address it had finally arrived. You met Azriel’s gaze, your heart pounding softly in your chest as you spoke.
“Whatever happens in the next few years,” you began, your voice steady but soft, “I hope that… we’ll be close. That we’ll be linked somehow.”
Azriel’s expression softened, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Linked, huh? I like the sound of that.”
The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you standing there, bathed in the soft glow of the moon and stars. The night was stunningly beautiful, the kind of night that seemed to embody everything the Night Court stood for—mystery, beauty, and an underlying power that was impossible to ignore.
Azriel’s hand came up to gently cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin with a tenderness that made your breath catch. He leaned in slowly, giving you every opportunity to pull away, but you didn’t. Instead, you closed the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a soft, tentative kiss.
The kiss was gentle at first, a sweet exploration of new territory. But as you responded, as you pressed closer to him, it deepened, growing more intense, more urgent. His hand slid into your hair, pulling you closer still, and you melted into him, letting the warmth of his embrace and the passion of the moment wash over you.
By the time you finally pulled away, you were both breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. The world seemed to have stopped around you, leaving just the two of you in the stillness of the night.
Azriel’s voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke, his breath warm against your lips. “Y/N…”
You smiled, your heart pounding in your chest as you looked up at him. “Yes, Azriel?”
He didn’t say anything else, just leaned in to kiss you again, his lips claiming yours with a tenderness that made your heart ache. And in that moment, under the stars of Velaris, you knew that this was just the beginning of something truly extraordinary.
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ohbo-ohno · 9 months
Text
merry christmas @luminousbeings-crudematter, here's the ghoap x reader purge au! (a week and a half after you posted about it... im so sorry)
5.7k, mind the tags <3
cw: ROUGH NONCONSENUAL SEX in all caps, pwp, under-prepared/painful anal sex, some pretty intense fear stuff, people covered in blood and referenced violence (it's a purge au lol)
Your hands tremble where they’re tucked close to your chest, blood sticky and thick between each finger. You feel coated in it, like someone has taken a brush and gone over every inch of your skin, painted you in red.
It’s in your mouth. You can feel the warmth of it on your tongue, the taste of iron sickening. You tell yourself that maybe you bit your tongue, that it’s not really your ex Phil’s blood coating your teeth.
Your thin pajamas are hardly any protection against the chill of the night air, less so with how soaked they are. The stench of piss is heavy in the air, a mixture of yours and his, but you don’t have time to go back inside and change.
You’re running on pure instinct, an animal urge deep in your mind insisting you run. You’d always thought you’d have more of a flight instinct than fight. Despite how you feel now, how your legs itch to carry you as far away as possible, the cooling corpse left behind tells you the truth. 
You stumble into the wall, a wave of nausea knocking you off balance. There’s a trail of red left behind as you use one hand to balance yourself, the other held protectively over your heart. 
Your security system - cheap, but usually enough to let you sleep through the Purge - is completely destroyed. There’s no chance of it protecting you, and the bust in windows will let anyone on the streets see your vulnerability. You’ll never feel safe there, and you can’t shake the need to run.
There’s no chance of any of your neighbors helping you. There’s some neighborly camaraderie between your floor-mates, but that all disappears on Purge night. It’s every man for himself, every year, without fail. You know that. You even think the same as them, pretend no one else exists when that siren goes off every year. 
But now, shaking and terrified, you wish you could knock on a door and see it open. Hear the security system disengage and see a familiar face, beg for help and thank them on your knees.
It’s a nice fantasy. Reality is less kind, seeing you shake with a dawning chill as you manage to shoulder open the door to the stairwell, cringing when it slams behind you.
The cold cement is rough on your feet, and a distant part of yourself worries about slipping - your feet are slick with blood, and you can hear yourself leaving a trail of footsteps. You don’t try to slow down, holding tight to the metal railing and shuffling down the stairs.
You’re halfway down the first of four flights when the door on the next floor opens, a large figure stepping into the stairwell. Your stumble to a stop before you even register that you’re not alone anymore, and you’re backpedaling before you even fully realize.
He’s big, his face covered in a red skull mask. From your vantage point you can see his hair is shaved into a mohawk, and he’s shirtless with only a pair of gray sweatpants on.
He’s drenched in blood. Even more than you, and you feel like you’re drowning in it. If you’re painted in blood, someone took a bucket and dumped it on this man. You can hardly see any unmarked skin, and you wonder for a split-second if the skull was once white.
There’s an audible grin in his voice when he calls up to you. “Look’it you, bonnie thing. You tryin’ to run?” He steps to the side, leaving a wide open space for you to pass him to the next staircase. You’re frozen where you’re leant against the railing, hardly able to breathe. “C’mon, give it a shot.” 
You listen, scrabbling further back and all but throwing yourself up the stairs on all fours. You’re only the need to get away, an innate fear that tells you to get as far from the blood-soaked man as quickly as possible. You swear you hear him laugh as you launch yourself up the next flight, panting already.
There’s no safety found in going up though, as hardly two flights later you’re tugged to a stop by your instincts alone.
Standing above you, hardly six feet away and blocking the door he must’ve just come from, is another giant. This one fully clothed and with a white skull mask, somehow bigger and more intimidating than the man you can hear coming up the stairs behind you. You can’t see even an inch of skin, black gloves on his hands and mean black combat boots reaching nearly his knees.
There’s a moment, before the chase ends, where you contemplate jumping over the railing. There’s no going up, there’s no going back, and you can’t even begin to imagine what these two men want with you. The only thing that keeps you from throwing yourself over is the fear that you wouldn’t die on impact, that you’d be left injured and even more vulnerable to these men.
You’re not sure you could’ve tried that plan had you even wanted to, because the moment it forms fully in your mind a pair of thick arms wraps around you, and a heavy weight forces you to the ground.
You cry out at the sudden shove, palms scraped raw against the cement. The man behind you covers your body completely - his knees bracket yours, his hands rest on either side of your head, and there’s no part of the back of you that isn’t cloaked in him.
He doesn’t say anything as he ruts against you, the blood from his chest soaking through your tank top and making you cringe further away. You can’t stop the quiet stream of whimpers as you try to shrink into the stairs, try to get away from the beast behind you. He doesn’t care, only drops more of his weight onto you and pantomines fucking you.
You can feel the outline of his cock through his pants, as thin as the clothes both of you are wearing are. If you weren’t wearing your shorts, if he tugged the waistband of his pants down, he’d be inside of you.
The thought makes you tear up, makes you want to slam your head back and try to knee him in the balls, makes you want to fight.
But all your fight is gone. It died with Phil and your security system, and you’re left only with a weight in your bones that makes you wish you could sink through the floor. 
The hard plastic of the skull mask presses to the sensitive skin of your cheek, biting into the fat there. You can see the gleam of bright blue eyes in the sockets, the creases at the edges that tell you he’s smiling.
“You gonna fuck her here for the first time?” The white skull asks, voice deep enough that you hardly register the words. Your eyes are jerked to his form and it makes you shiver to see him sitting on the top of the staircase you’re pinned to, legs spread wide as he stares down at you with a cigarette between lips exposed by the tilted mask. You feel like a sacrifice, thrown to the stairs of a temple for a god.
“Can I?” The man over your shoulder pants, accent roughened from his own movements. You can’t tell if the wetness between your thighs is piss, blood, or an even worse option. You bite your tongue to hold back a whine, wince at the burst of iron in your mouth.
The man above you tilts his head, smoking blown into the air. “You fuck her here, you won’t get to go again on the roof. Don’t need you gettin’ spoiled.”
Your nails dig into the concrete, folding beneath the pressure as you shake beneath the red skulled man. He whines over you, like a petulant kid being told no for the first time, but goes still against you. That alone has you blinking open damp eyelashes, watching him from the corner of your eyes.
“Alright, I’ll wait,” he pants, chin resting on your soldier. “Give ye some time to get ready, huh lass? It’ll be easier for ye then. Just think about what we’ll do to ye, how good it’ll feel to get properly fucked, yeah?”
You sob when he grinds one final time against you, your hips pushed into the harsh edge of the stairs. 
He’s dragging you up after that, hardly letting either of you stand fully before shoving you up the stairs. You can’t catch your balance and let out a small cry as you fall back to your knees, mouth twisting in pain at the unforgiving surface against your naked knees.
You flinch when a gloved hand grasps your chin, tugging up until you’re forced to look towards the white skull above you.
You’ve landed between his feet, a boot on either side of your body, and if you’d moved forward even another half foot, you’d have face planted into his lap. 
Your heart skips a beat when you realize you’re making eye contact with him. The dark brown of his pupils blends almost seamlessly with what must be black paint smeared around his eye sockets, and the only reason you even realize you’re locked in a staring contest is the way the light reflects off the whites of his eyes.
You don’t have time to try and move away from him on your own (or, more accurately, to throw yourself backwards and pray you didn’t break something falling down the stairs) before a pair of bare hands are shoving you up from beneath the armpits, making you almost squeal as you jerk in the direction you’re forced.
“Up, c’mon,” red skull grunts, hands flitting from one part of your exposed skin to the next as he herds you upstairs. “Need to get inside ye, kitty, fuckin’ walk.”
You sob as you stumble up the stairs, the top of your foot scraping painfully against the concrete. You glance over your shoulder just in time to see White stand to follow you two, but you’re nearly sent sprawling again when Red only shoves you all the more harshly.
“Pl-please,” you manage to gasp, shoulder roughly bouncing off the wall. A glance up tells you you’re two full flights away from the rooftop. “Please, I don’t know what you want, b-but…” You can hardly talk around the sobs floating in your throat, choking you. “Please, please don’t hurt me.”
Red groans as he tugs you nearly off balance, the sound echoing off the walls and full of what you can only describe as hunger.
“Fuck, haven’t even gotten ye naked yet ‘n yer already beggin. Knew ye’d be perfect for us.”
You can hardly see through the tears in your eyes, the rest of the trip up to the roof all gray with streaks of red and black. You can’t focus enough to try and get away again, can’t get enough of your panic under control to fucking think.
The red skull catches you when you almost go careening over the rails, one broad hand catching you by the chest and gripping.
He groans, you flinch. “Fuck, cannae wait to get my mouth on these.” He pinches with his whole hand, your breast going sharp with pain on every fingertip. You whine, flinching further against his chest and trying to shrink away.
“Keep movin’, Soap.”
“Aye,” Red - Soap - pants, and you can practically hear the saliva gathered in his mouth when he swallows. “C’mon, kitty, only a little further.”
The blood on your hands has dried by the time White is shouldering open the door to the roof, your hands itching and the red flaking away every time your fingers twitch. The night air is a cold shock, just jarring enough to tug some reason back into your brain.
Soap doesn’t stop his herding until you’re far enough from the door for his partner to block it with an old metal chair, the back tucked under the door handle. You tuck your hands beneath your arms, shoulders curled in in an attempt to preserve warmth.
You wouldn’t have expected the night to be so cold. Half of the street is burning - flames painting the sky, giving you the exact opposite impression of the biting chill you feel. There are dozens of people in the streets, carrying guns and axes and chainsaws and all sorts of other weapons you can’t see. You feel bile rise in your throat when you realize the dark pools reflecting flames in the street are blood, not water.
“Fuckin’ finally,” Soap grumbles, and you don’t have any time to think before his mouth is pressed forcefully against yours, tongue shoving at your lips.
Your eyes are wide open, unlike his, and you make a shocked sound high in your throat at the sight of his maskless face. You can’t really see what he looks like with the way he’s pressed against you, but it’s a shock nonetheless.
You keep your lips pressed tightly together, no matter how much his tongue prods and tries to force its way into your mouth. You feel more than hear him laugh against you after a few long seconds, and one of his massive paws comes up to cradle your jaw pointer finger against your temple and thumb under your chin.
He stops trying to force himself between your lips after almost a minute, instead shifting to just… licking your lips. His tongue paints wide across your mouth, soaking you in his saliva. He’s almost scarily determined in the way he accosts you, his grip tight on your face as his other hand shifts to bruise your hip, covering what feels like the entire bottom-half of your face in his spit. You can’t help but grimace, trying to pull away from him, but he’s pressed too close.
“Can’t fuckin’ wait to be in ye,” he pants, breath warm and wet against your cheeks. “I know yer gonna squeeze me just right, bonnie, can tell already.”
“Please,” you say, voice weak. “Please, don’t, I don’t want you to-”
His groan is guttural. “Ye wanna know a secret, bonnie?” His voice is quiet between the two of you, bright blue eyes boring deep into yours when he pulls back. To your endless frustration, he’s handsome.
He leans close, whispering so low that you almost have to strain to hear hum. “That’s what makes you fun. Wouldnae be draggin’ you up here if ye wanted it, could get you any other night of the year for that. But it’s Purge night, lass… so you go ahead and fight as much as ye want, yeah? Just makes it more fun for me.”
You can’t help but sob at that, fat tears streaming down your face as he maneuvers you. You feel disconnected from your body as he forces you down to the ground, your soft belly left exposed when he pushes up your tank-top to cup one of your breasts, a whimper crawling out of your throat at the way the gravel presses into you.
You feel his breathing grow heavier as his hands move down to your shorts, shoving them off your hips and leaving them loose around your calves, completely disregarding your pitiful attempts at crawling away.
“Poor thing, been stuck in these the whole time? They fuckin’ reek, bonnie, no offense. That his piss or yours?”
You shake your head against the ground, face twisted up in acute humiliation. For some stupid reason you don’t want to even begin exploring, you find it necessary to whisper, “H-his.”
Soap hums, and you curse yourself inwardly when the humiliation is slightly alleviated.
“Get ‘em off her,” the white mask says, and you can’t help but jump at the sound of his voice. He’s sat on a large box only a few feet away, leaning back and relaxing, looking for all the world like he’s settled in for his favorite show. “Don’t want anythin’ of his touching her now.”
The sound Soap makes at that is animalistic, a snarl coming from deep in his chest that makes you flinch as he all but tears the shorts from your body. You wince at the wet splat of them landing several feet away.
You force your forehead into the gravel when your knees are forced wide, a rough hand and another pair of knees spreading you.
“No, no, no, no, no, no, no…” you can’t help but beg, voice trembling. “Please- god, please don’t-”
“Fuck,” he moans over your shoulder. “Yeah, keep goin’, lass.”
You sob at the feeling of warm skin against your bared behind, his thick length slotting itself smoothly between the slightly spread lips of your pussy. Your eyes squeeze shut and it takes all your willpower not to keep begging.
He slides himself back and forth against you for a few long breaths, using online the slight slickness from a mixture of piss and blood to get some friction. But to your immense horror, it only takes a few moments for the sensual movement against your clit to have your body preparing itself.
The slight wetness at your hole might be a betrayal, but it’s not nearly enough to ease the way when he pushes inside of you with no warning.
You nearly scream, a high sound of pure panic and pain when it feels like you’re being split in two. Somewhere off in the distance, you hear someone laugh. Right above you, Soap groans.
He’s buried himself to the hilt inside you before the pain has had any time at all to fade, and he’s fucking into you hardly a second after that.
Every thrust forces a grunt from your throat, the entire weight of him slammed into your back each time his balls smack against your clit. Your face is twisted up in a grimace, your whole body racked with pain that your assaulter couldn’t care less about.
“Fuck, kitty. Yer squeezin’ me so good, such a good girl, shit-! Knew you’d be ti-tight as a vice, fuck, but didn’t know you’d be squeezin’ me so tight I can hardly move.”
Your whine is plaintive, his moan is filled with pleasure.
“Yer gettin’ so wet for me, bonnie. Ye like this, huh? Bet you like it just as much as I do, gettin’ thrown around and takin’ advantage of. That it, kitty? Ye like being forced?”
You sob and shake your head against the ground, crying all the more when sharp pebbles dig into your cheeks.
“Naw, I think ye do. Why else’d you be- fuck, squeezin’ me like that?” 
“Cause- because-” you try, but you can’t get the breath in to get more than a single word out.
“Huh? Cause- cause-?” Soap mocks, his voice pitching up to mimic you as he plants himself deep inside you, grinding his hips against the meat of your ass. “C’mon, kitty, tell me why. Go on.”
“Cause I want you to stop!” You cry, balled up fist slamming into the gravel. You can’t help but whine ow when the sharp rocks poke into your skin, and Soap’s laugh shakes your entire body.
“Good,” he whispers, breath hot against your ear. “Squirm all ye want, lass. I love it when you fight.”
You can do nothing but go limp beneath him as he begins fucking you again, his pace somehow faster and even more relentless. It’s a small mercy that there’s no fight left in you, that you can’t give him any more pleasure. 
It certainly doesn’t stop him, though. Despite the fact that you’re doing your best impression of a dead fish, Soap pants and moans against your shoulder like you’re the single best thing he’s ever slept with. His cock is painfully hard inside of you, and his pace never once slows.
He’s loud when he finally comes, the sound of his orgasm clear enough that you know he’s thrown his head back to the sky. You can only whimper as he rolls his hips against you, working the last spurts of cum out of his cock and into your unwilling body. 
“Fuck,” he sighs in your ear, sounding far more satisfied than he has any right to. “Good girl, kitty. You were perfect.”
You sniffle beneath him when he slowly pulls out, both of you groaning at the sensation. He gives you an almost perfunctory pat on the ass, and stands to walk away. You manage to open your eyes and focus just in time to see him slide to the ground in front of his partner, leaning against the wall.
“Yer turn,” he sighs. “Warmed her up good for you, Lt.”
Despite the hatred boiling in your gut, you can do nothing but lay limp on the ground and watch as his partner stands, cracking his neck and moving towards your prone form. 
You want to run, you want to fight, but you can only watch the executioner come closer and wait for the metaphorical axe to fall.
He crouches by your head first, grasping your chin and pulling up until your torso tries to follow to alleviate the tension. He stares deep into your eyes for a long moment, and you find that it’s impossible to even tell where his pupils are with no real lighting. You feel like you’re truly looking into the empty eye sockets of a skull, no man and no mercy to be found.
“You’ll call me Ghost when I fuck you,” he rumbles, thumb stroking over the scrapes on your cheek. He doesn’t wait for a response, simply hauls you up by the shoulder and turns you onto your back. 
He’s rough with your limbs as he shoves your legs together and up, his forearm banding across the backs of both of your knees and holding them to your chest. You whimper and wiggles as best you can, but the bruising blow against your thigh is enough to have you gasping and stilling.
“Don’t fight,” he warns, and you feel his gloved fingers running up the crack of you. “You’re hurtin’ enough as it is, and I’m not gonna help. You wanna make it worse too?”
You shake your head, unsure if he can even see you through your legs. He doesn’t respond, and hums when he swipes two fingers through the liquid gathered between your lips.
You whine when those fingers move further down, a fresh panic creeping in when he presses around your back hole.
“You should be glad Soap fucked you so good,” Ghost drawls. “He gave you all the lube you’re gonna get.”
You feel like an animal when you whine again, unsure of how to even begin trying to speak. You yelp when a thick finger slides into your hole, completely disregarding any resistance and forcing its way in until it’s buried to the knuckle. Your cries go ignored.
“Quit squirmin’,” Ghost scolds, pulling his finger out to smack your ass before shoving two back in. “You’re fine.”
You’re not, you’re terrified and hurting and upset, but none of those things matter when Ghost only coaxes more of your slick and Soap’s spend to your unused whole so there’s less resistance. 
The only blessing you have is the fact that you can’t see more than the outline of Ghost’s figure with the way he’s got you positioned. You try your best to close your eyes and float into disassociation, and while you can’t fully manage it, the fact that you can’t see his face - his mask - helps you distance yourself from what’s happening.
The moment you realize this is of course the moment it stops being true. 
He seems to decide you’re ready after scissoring three fingers inside of you, hefting himself up so that he looms more fully over you. You can only whine as you feel the movements of him unbuckling his belt, feel the weight of him slap against your slightly spread cheeks.
Fresh tears fall past your lashes as you stare up into the fathomless darkness that are Ghost’s eyes. There’s nothing there, just a cold empty skull prepared to ruin you.
You don’t even have the energy to beg.
The stretch of him inside your ass is five times worse than Soap was. There’s no natural lubrication, and nowhere near enough synthetic lube either. Your hole feels like it’s on fire, the stretch white hot as he gives you no mercy.
You’re not even fully sure what you’re babbling as he slowly sinks to the root, only aware of the pain and fear and panic sitting heavy in your heart. You fear you’ll choke on your tears, head jerking back and forth.
He sighs when he bottoms out, heavy barrel chest forcing your knees past your shoulders. Your hips strain, just another pain from the endless abuse.
“There,” he grunts, patting your thigh when you go limp from it all. “Stay nice and still now, just need a place to dump my cum.”
Upsettingly enough, that hurts. The idea that you could mean nothing to this man is somehow worse than the thought of him having some other twisted feelings for you, your hormone-addled mind deeply insulted. 
His thrusts are long and slow, each one pulling nearly completely out before slamming back in. The sound of your skin slapping together is embarrassingly sexual, and a distant part of you is aware enough to pray that no one nearby had heard your screams and cries.
Ghost is near silent as he fucks you, the opposite of Soap. You can only hear the occasional grunt when you squeeze him because he’s inches away from your face - you can even feel the occasional gusts of breath when his hips start working a little faster. 
There’s nothing you can do but lay limply beneath him and take it, just a vehicle for his pleasure. You almost manage to float away, to pretend none of this is happening or has ever happened, when his free hand moves from your thigh to the top of your cunt.
You nearly squeal when he rubs your clit, the smooth leath gliding over your slick bud. Your eyes fly wide open, back arching as much as you can with three hundred pounds of man holding you down. The loud laugh from several feet away only makes you writhe more.
“Make her squirt, Lt!” Soap shouts, his voice carefree.
“Shut it, Johnny,” Ghost grunts, voice roughened with pleasure. You don’t even have time to focus on the fact that he’s just told you Johnny’s name, far too preoccupied with the tidal wave of pleasure rushing towards you.
You have no idea why it happens. You’re never quick to come - almost every single partner of yours has complained about you taking so long to get off, it’s been an Issue in several relationships. 
So it makes absolutely no sense that after hardly a minute of rough circles against your clit, you’re clenching down on the cock in your ass and moaning loudly as your orgasm overtakes you.
The natural clench of your body only makes the pain worse, a sharp spike of it running up your cunt and making your moan shift into more pained sounds. Ghost only moans in tandem above you, his thrusts becoming slightly less even as he lets your orgasm coax out his own.
You sob when you feel his cum paint your insides.
Unlike Johnny, Ghost doesn’t pull out after he comes. He lets your legs fall limp on either side of him, just barely managing to catch them for you before you slam your ankles to the ground. He leans his torso over yours, elbows resting on either side of your shoulders while you do nothing but wait beneath him.
He’s sweat off some of the makeup. This close, you can see hints of pale skin in the sockets of the mask. There’s nothing to read in his eyes, but that flash of skin tells you he’s still a man.
You swallow, trying to work moisture back into your dry mouth, and whisper, “Will… will you let me go now?”
You know it’s more likely he’ll kill you. It’s what you can only imagine happened to all those bodies in the streets, what you know happens to tens of thousands of women every year. 
So it’s not a surprise when he doesn’t answer you verbally, instead covering your mouth with his palm and pinching your nose shut with his fingers. 
Your eyes flutter shut after a moment, lungs tightening already, and all you can hope is that suffocation is a quick death.
———————————————————————
You wake, gasping, in a dark room. 
You’re lurching forward before you’re even fully aware that you’re awake, coughing loudly and gasping when it feels like your throat is bleeding.
“Oh, poor thing,” you hear a familiar accented voice coo, and a moment later there’s a warm hand patting your back. “Yer alright, deep breaths.”
You jerk back from Soap - Johnny - as soon as your coughing is under control, scrambling back on your palms and staring at him with wide eyes. He only grins at you, looking for all the world like any other normal man in his sweater and sweatpants.
He got changed at some point - these pants are clean. He’s not wearing his mask either, and you’re struck dumb by how non threatening he manages to look.
He also changed your clothes - or Ghost did, maybe. You try to cover your chest with one hand, but there’s no hiding the fact that you’re completely naked. 
Johnny only laughs at your attempted modesty. “Been starin’ at them for hours, lass. Ye’ve got nothin’ to hide.”
That’s… horrifying, and does absolutely nothing to calm you down.
It’s then that Ghost rises from a chair, stepping forward and making you aware of his presence. “Calm down, Johnny. We don’t want her panickin’ this early.”
Soap fully pouts, tilting his head at you before glancing up at his partner. “I haven’t even done anythin’, Ghost. Was just sayin’ hi, tha’s all.”
Ghost snorts, gripping Johnny’s mohawk and tugging back until the other man sprawls back on his ass. “You know how you are, pup. Give your kitty some space.”
Johnny listens, crossing one leg beneath him and bending the other close to his chest, looking casual as can be. Meanwhile your heartbeat only gets faster, and you wince when you happen to lean too far one direction and feel a throbbing reminder of what these men did to you.
Ghost steps forward again, crouching just out of arm's reach. You realize he’s not wearing the same skull mask as before, but a balaclava with a printed skull pattern instead. His eye sockets are unpainted, and you’re shocked by how such little things make him look so much more human. 
“You can calm down. Long as you behave, nothin’ much worse’ll happen to you.”
You find yourself almost comically not-comforted by that, and can do nothing more than stare at him with wide eyes. 
“Where…” Your voice cracks, so you swallow and start again. “Where am I?”
It’s Johnny who speaks up. “Our place. We finally brought ye home with us, kitty.”
The world feels like it’s slowed around you, and your eyes drag from one kidnapper to the other. You have to swallow again to work any moisture into your bone-dry mouth.
“Is the Purge over?”
The creases at the corner of Ghost’s eyes are painfully obvious with how pale his skin is, and you shudder at the thought of him smiling.
“Been over for… what, five hours now? Somethin’ like that.”
You can’t fight the tremble in your voice now. “Then… then you have to let me go.”
Ghost’s head tilts, the creases get deeper. “Do I?”
You nod with as much conviction as you can - which is almost none. “You can’t keep me here. You’re breaking the law.”
Ghost leans closer on the balls of feet and you lean further back, your spine pressing into the wall behind you. “Are we now? And who do you think will stop us, pet?”
“The- the police. Someone will report me missing, they’ll come looking.”
“Oh? And you think they’ll come here?”
You nod as best you can, and jump when Ghost laughs. It’s low and quiet, only a few beats, but it’s like gasoline thrown on the small fire of panic in your mind.
“You have no idea where you even are, and you think they’ll find you? I hate to break it to you doll, but you’ll be lucky if they look for you for a week. You have any idea how many people go missin’ after the Purge?”
Your breath is quickening. “So that’s it? You’re just going to… going to keep me here, forever? What are you even going to do?”
His laugh is sharper, meaner this time. “We’re gonna do a whole lot more of what we did last night, pet. Keep you as a little cocksleeve, a pretty thing tucked in the basement just for our entertainment. Ain’t that right, Johnny?”
You manage to tear your eyes away to look at Soap and see that he’s nearly salivating, having inched closer and closer and shifted so he’s knelt behind Ghost. There’s a feral spark in his eyes that has every hair on your body standing straight up.
“Yeah, tha’s right. Don’t worry, lass, we’ll make sure yer never lonely. Might even stay the night with you, cuddle up in the winter. Bet ye could keep our cocks nice and toasty in the cold, huh? Gonna let us use ye as a little heater?”
“A heater, a mattress, a fleshlight… your future’s lookin’ bright, sweetheart,” Ghost drawls, mockery dripping heavily from the cruel words.
Your eyes dart back and forth between the two men and their predatory stares, your heart racing against your ribcage.
It’s not a conscious choice for you to launch yourself towards them, reaching out and clawing your sharp nails down Soap’s face with a feral scream that tears your throat to shreds. 
Even as Ghost throws you off and forces you to the ground, you vow to fight these men to the end. You’ll kill them both if you have to, leave them dead and wander however many miles it is back to your apartment.
Ghost only laughs when you shout this in his face, and you scream as you lunge forward, just managing to catch his masked chin between your teeth and bite.
With your fight instinct back in full force, you’re ready to make their lives hell.
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babygorewhore · 7 months
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Caught
Simon Riley-Ghost Imagine
After a night of drinks, you find Ghost in a compromised position.
Warnings!Pervy! Ghost! Jerking off! Oral! Female receiving! Choking! Degrading! Unprotected sex! Light slapping! Light breeding kink!
You were celebrating after a successful mission, drinks all around and you were laughing at something Soap said, trying to hide the fact that you were watching Ghost through the corner of your eye.
Your crush on him started early on. You felt drawn to his stoic, sarcastic and somewhat arrogant Attitude. But he never gave away anything other than politeness to you. Sometimes he was stern, the Lieutenant bound by duty and leadership only wanted the best for his team. But you…you couldn’t help your feelings towards him.
Ghost wasn’t your opposite per say but he was harder to read. Sometimes he was so still it was difficult to tell if he was even breathing. He walked off suddenly, his wide back the only thing you saw as he disappeared. Most likely to go to his quarters.
“Stare much?” Soap teased and you blushed. And jerked your head to face the other man but your eyes lingered on the spot where Ghost had been standing.
“I wasn’t.” You immediately grow defensive and Soap scoffs but drops the subject. He knew better than to push you beyond your limits.
As the night went on and several drinks later, you stumbled down the small maze leading to your barrack. You were laughing at nothing but then a noise brought you to slow down.
It was faint but…it sounded like…moans? You blushed furiously when you realized someone was in…a compromising position. But the moaning was inside your room as you grew closer to your door. You growled. Someone was fucking in your room?? You opened the door slowly, not wanting to wake up the rest of the team when your eyes widened and your mouth parted. And you felt instantly sober.
Ghost was sitting on your bed. His legs were spread, pants pulled off with his black boxers around his big thighs. His shirt was lifted as his thick, heavy, purple tipped cock was wrapped around the black material of your favorite pair of panties. His hand was gripping his dick tightly, his knuckles taut as he rolled his hips into the motions, his breathing heavy and filled with low grunts.
You stood there for several seconds with a mix of emotions. What the fuck was happening? And then he started saying your name in a low rumble. His pelvis jerked against the panties.
Your entire drawer was rummaged through, your pillows, you could see the stains even in the dim light as they leaked with cum.
“Ghost!” You harshly whispered at him which caused him to jolt and immediately drop your underwear.
His mask was still on but his eyes revealed a horrified, guilty and dark expression. He scanned your body, taking in your uniform you still wore, fitted to every curve of your body and before centering on your breasts. You subconsciously covered them by folding your arms. You wanted to scream at him for the invasion but you refrained for two reasons. One, you didn’t want to wake everyone up and embarrass him and two. Seeing the guy you had a crush on fucking your underwear wasn’t exactly a bad sight. But still. What the hell was going on?
Ghost tucked away his cock by pulling up his boxers, his thick fingers flexing as he slowly stood up. He was much taller than you, especially since you weren’t wearing thick boots now. His broad shoulders were shrunken down, as if he was trying to appear smaller and less intimidating. It only half worked since you were still terrified of confronting him about his theft.
“Ahem. What are you doing? I know what you’re doing-but why were you doing it?” You hissed at him in a low whisper and he flinched. You breathed slower, trying to calm your nerves and assess the situation. Ghost stood like a statue, much different than his previous actions.
“Well?” You said, a little louder and set your hands on your hips. You took the opportunity to glance at your panties that were discarded on the floor. In the center was a wet patch of creamy fluid and you blushed furiously.
“I was-um-“ Ghost, the large, brutal leader was before you, stuttering his words feet away from you. You had a brief power exchange. You were now the one going to ask him direct questions with a cold sternness.
But secretly…you enjoyed this. You liked seeing him nervous and still. Afraid of your reaction for once. Your tongue felt thick and heavy in your mouth as he breathed shallowly. “Fucking hell.” He muttered before shifting away from you.
“Know you’re probably disgusted by me. Understand that. I would be…confused. But I can’t deny it anymore.” Ghosts' brown eyes settled on your face, looking for any signs of emotion to indicate what to say next. But your own features were masked by a scowl that you were using to draw him out. Make him admit to whatever he was feeling. You’d never get this chance again. You stepped forward, hands still on your hips and squeezing the bone. You raised an eyebrow, signaling him to finish his sentence.
“Thinking about ya. Wanting you. Been wanting you for ages now. This was as close as I could get. Figured you’d like it to be soap instead of me.” He situated himself, trying to move his erection away from you. “Stupid really. I should have known better. I shouldn’t haven’t stayed here.”
You were overwhelmed by his confession. But you shouldn’t have been. Even if Ghost did have feelings for you, why would he show it? He never revealed himself or showed any sort of vulnerability. You weren’t the exception in that regard. But the way he was staring at you with his deep set gaze, focused eyebrows made him look genuine with his statement. If he thought you wanted Soap, it was simply because you were comfortable with him as a friend. Ghost made you feel nervous and avoidant. Especially since you never imagined he’d feel the same way about you. Or fuck your panties for gods sake.
“Ghost. I’m not exactly sure how to respond to it other than honesty. I’m surprised with you. I’d never expect you to be here. Or to feel the same way.” You figured that was a decent middle ground.
His head snapped in your direction and you could see his mouth set in a line before he settled into a tense silence. You expected him to continue his sentiment but he didn’t. He just stood there. Staring at you. You wondered if maybe you misunderstood his intent was just to fuck you and you immediately wanted to curl in a ball. Oh god, what if you were wrong? So wrong.
“You have feelings for me.” This was a statement. Not a question from him. And your own stare widened imperceptibly and you swallowed, trying to dampen your suddenly dry mouth.
You weren’t sure how to respond. You didn’t want to repeat yourself for any chance of humiliation but you also couldn’t ignore his response. “Yes.” You kept your reply simple. Ghost remained still but his head moved to a slow, careful nod and he tapped his finger along his side. He seemed almost impatient with you.
You noticed his body move an inch closer, hearing his boots click on the ground and you realized he was still in his boxers. You were so focused on his face that you ignored his muscles. His wide shoulders, big arms, meaty hands that were covered in faint slick as he approached you with an eerie silence. Years of training made him able to walk without making noise but you looked up at him as his shoes nearly touched yours. You could see his bare chest moving up and down with determination.
“How long?”
“What?” You couldn’t hardly focus on anything but the heat radiating off him like a furnace. Ghost started to slouch, trying to shorten the distance between you both. His mouth twitched from underneath his mask.
“How. Long?” Ghost says. This time with more demand. His palms are pressed against his upper thighs. You started trembling. You weren’t going to get out of this without telling him the truth.
“Since I first saw you.” You replied quietly. “So. A while.”
Ghost nodded before sweeping over your features. Assessing you. Looking for a trace of a lie. His experience of interpreting facial expressions coming through. You felt like you were losing whatever power you had minutes ago.
You felt like you were invading his privacy. Instead of the other way around.
“Mhm.” He grunts.
You desperately want to reach forward but you’re still afraid. Afraid of rejection. Maybe he’ll put on his clothes and laugh at you.
You witness his hand start to raise, painfully slow as his warm fingers brush against your collar. Your eyebrows shit up as his palm then presses against your throat, his digits sliding around to cup your neck. His pressure was firm but you could break out if you truly wanted.
And you didn’t want to.
You bite your lip as his other hand comes to rest on your waist.
“Take it off.” His tone is curt. And you hesitate before fumbling to unbutton your shirt before he shakes his head sharply.
“My mask. Take it off.”
Your stomach dropped at his request. Goosebumps prickled your arms underneath your clothes. Your position with him, so vulnerable as he was holding your neck. He could so easily hurt you, his enormous strength and tactical approach with combat. And now he wanted to show you his face. Something he never did. You’d heard rumors. That he was handsome beyond measure. And he never denied it. Your hands found his mask, fingers shaking as you carefully unhooked it from around his ears. You peeled off the fabric, showing his face and you gasped.
Ghost had a sharp jawline, downturned medium sized lips, a nose that was almost as clean cut as his face. His eyes were deep set and so dark they looked like the earth ground. They were amber in the sun. His hair was light, a sight you didn’t expect as his lashes matched. His eye makeup was smeared but did little to hide his beauty. You cupped his cheeks, rubbing your thumbs on his skin.
“You’re so beautiful.” You whisper and he gives you a faint smile.
“Yeah? You think so, sweet girl?” Chills made your nipples hard and you shuddered as his hold tightened. Ghost brought you near, his lips going to your ear. His tongue darted out, flicking against the shell and he groaned. “Taste as sweet as your words, princess.”
You tightened your hands around his face, “Fuck it.” You said to yourself before crashing your lips to his. His lips were a little chapped but your core fluttered as Ghost moaned deeply against your mouth. He immediately pinned you against the wall, his big hands cupping your ass as he lifted you, forcing you to encircle your thighs around his waist.
Ghost grinds into you, his dark dick pressing against your cunt that grows wetter inside your pants. The material of his boxers adds friction as he shoves his tongue into your mouth before sucking yours, kissing you ravenously before sweeping his tongue all over your mouth. But it wasn’t gross, not like other guys and girls you’d made out with. You bury your hands into his hair, pulling it as you try to merge your bodies together. Ghost decides the wall isn’t good enough and carries you to the best. He slams you on the mattress without breaking the kiss and paws at your shirt, ripping it in half and showing your breasts inside your black bra.
He rips away from you, panting as his palms the flesh of your tits, “fucking beautiful, baby girl. So perfect. You’re so fucking perfect.” He leans down, peppering kisses to your flesh before he sucks harshly. Intending on leaving marks, and you welcome the pleasurable pain. You grind your clothed pussy against his cock and he growls against your chest.
“Fucking whore, ain’t ya? Do you like this? Like being my little bitch?” You choke on a moan as he moves to your nipple, giving them a harsh tug with his teeth and your back arches, Ghost’s cock against his thigh moves against you as he focuses attention on the left nipple, flicking his tongue to soothe his teeth marks.
You dig your nails into his skin, your legs yanking him closer by his hips and you crash your lips to his in a mess of tongue and teeth. Ghost actually whimpers into your mouth and your core drips inside your pants that he starts to remove. His blunt nails dug into your thighs as he dragged them down, exposing your sticky underwear in the center. Ghost brushed his fingers against your cunt, shivering at the feeling of your arousal.
“This for me, doll?” He teased before bending down, he lewdly licked a stripe over the lace making you jerk.
“Mhm,” you manage before he returns to his motions and kitten licks the underwear. His tongue is wide and flat, you grind your hips against his face, trying to get some sort of relief and try to take off your panties. But he stops you.
“Uh uh. That’s only for me to do. You’re losing another pair.”
“Another?” You breathe and he nods.
“You don’t think that’s the first one I took,do you? Messy little girl. Creaming all over me and I haven’t even tongue fucked you yet.” He grunts before pulling them and setting the underwear on the ground.
Ghost buried his face into your pussy, his tongue licking a firm and deliberate stripe before swirling around your clit. You threw your head back, clenching your stomach as you felt his teeth gently against you as he slurped and sucked like a man starved. He moved his head up and down, trying to get every single ounce of arousal as it smeared all over his face, coating his nose and mouth. Your thighs probably were suffocating him but he was very enthusiastic about keeping them in place as his fingers dug into your skin.
“You taste so fucking good, bunny. Can’t get enough. Want you to cum all over my face.” He groans as you start bucking your hips even harder and he guides your pelvis to move, faster and faster before your stomach uncoils and you feel a lightning explosion in your core.
Only seconds passed before he was on top of you, pulling out his cock from his boxers, not even taking them off as he rubbed it along your clit, smearing your cum all over before he shoved it inside, filling you up to the hilt and your hands were clawing at his arms in a welcome stretch.
His bulbous dick hit every deep spot inside you perfectly, his balls slapping against your ass as he thrusted hard and made the bed squeak. His filthy sounds were animalistic as his hand wrapped around your neck.
“Fuckin cum slut. Your eyes are rolling back. Like me taking you like this? Like a bitch in heat?” His words were muffled by you growing light headed from the pressure but you enjoyed every second of his strength and brutal pace as his cock hit the softest part of your cunt.
“Simon,” you cried out before clamping your mouth shut. You didn’t mean to use his real name but he slapped your cheek lightly with a nod.
“Mhm, say it. Say it again.” He encouraged you and you blinked away tears as you felt like he was pleasantly splitting you open.
“Simon, you’re a pervert. You’re a whore.” Your words did little to slow him down, instead he increased his rhythm and smirked at you.
“But you like it, dirty slut.” Ghost bit his lip as your eyes squeezed shut. Your second orgasm hitting you hard, and you screamed.
He clamped his hand on your mouth, “no one else gets to hear you but me.” He snaps before reaching down and rubbing your clit. “Give me more. Want to fill you up. Fuck a baby into you.”
You were crying now, a wet sound as he painfully thrusted one more time, before stalling and spilling into you. Ropes of cum gushing into you and coating your insides. You felt it drip out, oozing onto your thighs and sinking into the bed. Your vision went white as he collapsed on top of you, pulling out his leaking dick and he started pumping his cum into you with his hand, “get every fucking drop, baby girl.”
You fucking twitched as the unsastiable male bent down, scooping out your arousal and started sucking his fingers with a deep rumble of a moan. “God, you taste so fucking good. It’s my favorite thing. Can’t get enough of you.” Ghost said between sucks.
“You’re so-“ you gurgled and he moved up and kissed you, making you taste both of you together.
He slips his tongue into your mouth, flicking it over your teeth before massaging yours. “Want you to ride me- think you can go a second round?”
You felt like your entire energy was depleted but you rapidly nodded.
It was going to be a long night.
Tagging @marchsfreakshow @slvt4jamesmarch @vamp-bunny
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pedge-page · 7 months
Text
Joel Miller x F!Reader - Piss Kink #4
if you're feeling bold, can be read with more Piss kink #1, #2, #3, or alone.
Summary: Joel entices you home with a uniquely fun hommade toy that he's been edging himself with.
Warnings: pisskink! , pill-filled condom, sending nudes ish, nipple play, sub!Joel returns!, male masturbation, mirror masturbation, assisted masturbation, overstimulation, degrading lanauge towards Joel, this one is all about Joel
18+ ONLY
- - - -
Work fucking sucks when you’re horny as shit.
While you rot away at a desk 5 days a week, from 9-5 with limited days off, you get a bit envious of Joel’s flexible schedule where he can pick his own contracts, his own projects, and work his own hours at his own fee.
Must be nice to be a solid brick wall of meat.
And he doesn’t make it any better. Having your phone buzz off at your desk literally every 5 seconds with pictures of his scruffy head waking up at 9:57am, his homemade sausage links and pancakes, his feet propped up on the coffee table while sipping away your coffee in your mug that you forgot because you were running late!
You: Fuck off, lazy ass
Joel: come home and I’ll fuck your ass all day :P
You: do you have any real plans today other than being a little shit?
There’s 15 minutes of silence from his end. Enough that you’re pretty far into a project you couldn’t get off the ground, until there’s a new chime vibrating from your phone. 
Joel: video attachment
You bite your lips, hovering over the file icon. This could be just another “Joel enjoying his day off” …
or a “Joel enjoying his day off.”
Not risking it, you run to the bathroom and lock yourself in the stall.
The video plays, and you can make out Joel’s big fat blurry fingers blocking half the camera as he angles the phone on the sink vanity, facing himself in the mirror focus sense. He backs away, and unzips his jeans. His cock is only half hard, but that doesn’t deter him from pumping it lazily in his hand, digging in the drawer off camera looking for something.
It’s not until he’s ripping off a condom with his teeth that you’re very intrigued. 
“Got a present for ya when you come home,” he smirks into the camera.
He rolls the plastic over his much harder cock now, pulling it tight all the way to the base, stretching it over his thick length.
Joel’s not one to use condoms, so this is—new.
He’s breathing hard, chest rising and falling as he pumps his dick with short jerks. His thumb teases over the clear covered tip. there’s some sweet little noises you know you’re missing because the mic doesn’t pick it up, but by the way his brows furrow, his lips part with eyes closed, you know he’s feeling dirty and good.
He lets out a strong groan, and the condom starts inflating quickly as he relives his urine. “FUck—fuck , shit, it’s filling up fast.”
You hold in a gasp because fuck yeah he’s right. The condom expands rapidly as yellow liquid quickly pools in the empty nub at the top before over coming the underside.
“Mmm—ah—ah-ahh-yeahfuck baby—its’ warm. Warm like you,” he grunts, smiling. He tilts his head back and moans, thrusting his hips a bit more like he wants to fuck it. 
He breathes shallowly when it’s over. The condom now tightly packed with warm golden piss around his aching length like a thick balloon, not much larger than a short zucchini but still impressively bulging.
He jerks over himself a little bit, watching the liquid bounce with such inertia it takes a moment to even out. It should be disgusting, really, watching him play with himself with his own piss like a pocket pussy, were it not for the tight clench of your thighs and throb between your legs.
“Reminds me of ya tummy when I filled ya full of it the other day.”
He starts to pull his jeans back up, careful to tuck the full package into his crock area before zipping it up cautiously. Two little hops and everything falls into place. He groans as he manages the button over his waist.
He pats his new bulge before winking into the camera and the video ends.
You don’t even realize you were biting your finger nails while sitting on the toilet seat in the stall. Your skirt bunches up over your legs as you spread them. Fuck, you can’t touch yourself at work!
Just as you’re about to write an extremely lengthly curse off to Joel, another image attachment comes in:
Joel lying on the couch with the camera facing down towards his feet, the evident bulge still packed tight in his head with his girth hand gripping at it through his jeans.
Joel: Warm n tight, just like your sweet little cunt :) 
Another video comes in, and there’s barely any intuition in you left to ignore it as you’re hitting play so quickly.
He’s positioned the phone in front of him again at the couch, folding laundry causally with his legs spread wide. The bulge in his pants, however, is much bigger. Each uncomfortable  shift only elicits a whimper from him, grinding into his palm to adjust the position but only turning him on more. He leans back and unbuttons the pants. The zipper practically falls away on its own to give room to the massive piss filled condom, shaped like a droopy sack, it’s been desperately trying to hold together.
He sighs in relief, jiggling the balloon. It’s now the length of a fat cucumber, sagging to the cushion from the weight. 
“Shit. This is a fuckin’ strong ass condom, baby. Feels like I’m bout to burst everywhere.”
He continues to smack it, jerk it, play with it like a silicon boob and not like it’s his own urine filling a condom and drawing his poor dick, still hard as a rock and an angry shade of red infused with the yellow tint of the sloshing liquid. His leg bounces, both of you hypnotized at the way the latex ripple with each wave.
“Can’t wait for you to come home and see how big it’s gonna get in your hand.” He cups his balls underneath while fisting his warm and wet pocket pussy. It jiggles obscenely in his hand, his hips thrusting into it until his tummy tense and he stills. You can just barely see the little air bubble at the top get smaller as he relieves himself more. His eyes roll back, feeling the warmth surround his meat like living inside your cunt. 
The video ends, and a second image is waiting for you:
Joel standing with his top belt button undone but the zipper struggling to stay up, holding his fat bulge that now has taken over to drooping down his thighs.
Joel: Fucking Christ baby, you see how fucking tight this is? 
You don’t open the last video attachment, as you’re already packing your computer away and telling your manager you’re not feeling well, zipping to your car and speeding home.
-
Joel’s cock is in a constant state of pain and pleasure all day. For one, his piss is keeping everything so fucking warm, unlike anything he’s felt regularly wrapped around his cock, stuffed in his pants. But on the other hand, his dick has been trapped inside a warm wet fluid substance for over two hours non stop hard, and he’s ready to cum geysers.
He considers whether waiting all day for you to come home for his “present” is going to be worth it when he hears keys being entered into the front entrance.
He’s standing right there the moment you open the door. He can tell you rushed with the state of your wrinkled shirt half untucked, messy hair and even more evident—the ferocious look in your eyes. 
You wrap your arms around him and hug him close. He lets out a tiny sigh, feeling your middle press against his crotch tightly. To your delight, it’s still there, all packed tight and warm, crammed so stiffly it could burst with any more pressure. Your hand roughly grabs at the squishy bulge in his jeans and Joel stutters a gasp, then a little moan with his eyes closed in bliss. You can just barely hear the quiet rush of liquid filling into the condom even more.
“Did you just piss some more?” You ask, your hand rubbings soothing circles over the bulge.
He nods, lips parted sinfully with dazed eyes now that you’re here and in charge.
“You’re a naughty boy, sending that shit at work. Making me come home early to take care of this,” you whisper sensually in your honey silk voice that has his veins shivering from excitement and trouble. 
“Nnmgg—mmmm, I wanted you here. And you want its too,” he snickers.
You tug the collar of his shirt and pull him in for a harsh kiss. He groans into your month, pulling you closer and grinding himself into your secure body like a horny teen. His body melts in to your touch, more needy to have you here than you were to have him.
Your tongue holds his hostage while you busy your fingers and unbutton his jeans. The piss filled condom spills out of there like it was desperate to breathe. 
Joel lets out a pathetic sigh of relief. You continue to palm him while he pants into your mouth, all the pent of pressure finally having room to escape, but still trapping his thick cock. It’s fucking heavy, the weight of his hot urine filling the bag over and over again, latex stretched so tight. “It’s.. s-so heavy—bout to burst,” he rasps, eyes shut into your shoulder as you hold it for him. 
You smirk against his lips, continuing your torture in your hand while he shivers.
You reach below the moist cucumber sack and roll his balls in your hand, tugging gently to get him to follow you.
He obeys beautifully. Leaping after you as you massage him, trailing so close that he’s wafting your hair product, twitching in your palm.
“Sit,” you command, pointing to the floor in the bedroom, directly in front of your floor length mirror.
He sinks to the group, staring at his reflection. So pretty and small beneath you. You slide right behind him, hands slowly tracing along his inner thighs, making him involuntarily man spread. 
You grasp the urine condom and start tugging, jerking it in your hand as you pinch his nipples under his shirt with your free hand. 
“You look like a fucking pervert and a whore.”
He whimpers and melts into your touch. Tense in his cock and chest but relaxed everywhere else. Despite the mass of the man in front of you, practically blocking your view of his beautiful twitching body, you perch over his arm to watch. 
His eyes keep drifting back, pleasure consuming him after edging all day. But he keeps snapping forward to look at how you’re tearing him apart.
“Only fucking disgusting boys do this type of shit, Joel. Is that what you are?”
He nods vigorously, hips cantering forward.
The sloshing of liquid grows louder as you pump over the slimy sack faster. His shirt rides up, his soft belly flexing with each painful breath he forces going in and out. 
“Can you fill this up some more? While I’l jerking you off? Don’t cum yet. Want more of your foul liquid to fill this thing. It’s so fucking big, Joel. see how much we can pack into here before it explodes!” You laugh.
He grits his teeth, and you still your movement. With a few assisted tugs wrapped around your own hand, he’s moaning out pornographically, and you can see through the latex the extra stream of gold forced out of the tip of his dick and expanding the hot condom. It’s big enough now that you need Joel to help wrap his other hand around it. The two of you jacking him off together.
“Such a fucking good boy, Miller. My piss hungry boy.”
If you weren’t so fucking turned on by your whimpering mess of a boyfriend you’d be cringing so hard. But Joel just somehow always manages to bring that side out of you.
“Arrgghhhhh--aahhh—oh—ohh—ohf—oh fuck! Fuck it baby, yeah—YEAH—unfff I’m—I’m gonna—“ he’s blabbering incoherently, nodding and shaking his head, overstimulated and yet so close to getting what his whole body is begging for. The condom bounces along as the two of you fall out of rhythm, smashing against his pelvis and balls, his tip stretching across the clear seal before being drowned in a vacuum of piss. 
You accidentally pinch the condom as you pull it close to him again. Coupled with being filled to its limit, the entire thing snaps in a giant explosion of the piss damn breaking, ursting all over Joel’s torso and thighs and the floor.
The impact of it all has his hips thrusting forward, his jaw dropping open in a surprised gasp when he cums into the free air—ropes of it shooting so far onto the mirror. You don’t stop, despite the wet mess all over him and tattered condom shred still clinging between your digits, jerking his wet cock to completion and tilting his hips up so that his creamy spend shoots on his pouty lower lip.
He licks away the salty tang of his orgasm,  breathing down from his high. You  both observe him in the mirror: clothes drenched from chest to knee, splatters of of his spend adorning him and the mirror like overly-excited icing on a tres-leches soaked cake. 
He’s shaking from the aftershock. So overly whipped and leaning further back against you for support. You hold his cock, now finally able to breathe, as you kiss along his jaw and neck. “You’re so gross, I fucking love it,” you tease, nipping at his ear.
He smiles with you, sighing up to the ceiling with blissful sedation. 
He stays pliant in your arms, head resting against your breasts. It’s quiet, minus the love sucks you’re dressing all over his face with your lipstick.
He opens his eyes. “How about a hug after such a loooooong day at work, baby?”
You stop kissing him and lean away, shaking your head. 
“No? Are you sure? I think you need it,” he hums, a devious look in his eyes as he starts to turn on you. 
“Don’t you fucking dare!” You warn. You immediately scramble to your feet and try to run out the door, but Joel’s caught up in no time, bear hugging you from behind.
“Awwwww, isn’t this soooo nice, baby?”
“Gross, gross, gross!” You laugh, wiggling unsuccessfully as you feel his urine seeping from his clothes to your beautiful white blouse and ironed skirt. You shiver at the warm, disgusting feeling of it all.
“Fucking nasty perverted piss boy.”
He giggles into your hair as you admin defeat, swaying with him in a tight embrace.
“With my fucking nasty perverted piss girl.”
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conchiferrous · 8 months
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bridge
[IMAGE ID: Digitally drawn fan art of One Piece made entirely with the binary brush tool. It features most of the pre-time skip straw hat crew, minus Brook. Luffy and Franky create a bridge over a ravine for the rest of the crew to cross using their arms. Luffy is on the left, he has a goofy smile on his face and is positioned on his hands and knees with his left arm stretched out halfway over the ravine, grabbing onto one of Franky's large fingers. Franky is on the right side, using his strong right to extend his arm halfway over the ravine. He is on his hands and knees as well. He is smirking and wearing sunglasses. From right to left; Robin, Nami, and Zoro are all walking across the arm bridge while holding hands with each other while Chopper rides on Robin's head and Usopp clings onto Zoro's head. Chopper, Robin, and Nami all look completely neutral while Usopp looks terrified and Zoro looks annoyed as Usopp's hands squish Zoro's face and Usopp presses the bottom of his head into Zoro's hair. Zoro walks upright and balanced despite the fact Usopp has his entire body curled up behind his shoulders, knees digging into his shoulders. At the bottom of the ravine, Sanji can been seen laying in a splatter of his own blood, face down with his limbs splayed out. He's drawn small with not much detail. Luffy is drawn with a wide nose and curly hair. His hat is scuffed and bits of grass and straw are caught in his hair. He is wearing his default clothes. Chopper has a three tone fur coat, primarily dark brown with lighter brown around his eyes and on his hands, and his chest is white. His nose is also wider and he has thick rectangular black eyebrows. He is wearing his default clothes. Robin is wearing an open purple jacket with a shirt that's green on the top, white on the bottom underneath. It's meant to look like a simplified version of her top during the Long Ring Long Land arc. Her pants and shoes are drawn all in one, as if she is wearing pitch black tights with no shoes. She has a small chest size and a completely rectangular body with no curves. She has simplified dot eyes that are colored brown. Nami is a bit shorter and chubbier compared to the canon material. She's wearing her blue striped shirt + yellow skirt combo from her first appearance, but is wearing the heeled shoes she usually wears. She has a cowlick with a bit of hair sticking out from the side of it in the shape of a stem with a leaf, freckles have also been added. Her torso is more rectangular and not curvy at all with a small chest. Zoro's arms are just drawn really thick rather than muscular. He is wearing his usual default clothes, though his pants and boots have been simplified with no clear indication where the boot starts and the pants end. Only the top half of Usopp's face is shown, and his nose is more fat and round than long and skinny, but still sticks out from his head regardless. He is depicted with much darker skin than in the anime. His bandana slightly covers the tops of his big eyes, but the edge of it is curled upward in the middle as if it is part of his brow. He is wearing his usual outfit. Franky's hands are exaggeratedly large with no wrists. His strong right is depicted as if Franky's arm was cut in half with a golden chain holding the ends together, with the exposed halves of his arm colored meat red. He is wearing his usual clothes. The background is simple and shows a few other cliff ledges in the back against a light purple sky. END ID]
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onelittlespiral · 11 months
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FML: Process Heavy
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It started off so simply. A friend emailed me a link to a YouTube video promising to teach me about how to get some quick muscle. We had been swearing for months we were going to get on a consistent schedule to go, we just never did. I watched the 20 minute long video quickly. I hardly even noticed when it was over. But I felt energized enough to go on a run. That’s how it would start. I would watch the next video in the series and time would simply slip away. 20 minutes. 30 minutes. An hour. I started noticing changes, little things out of place. My water bottle half drunk in my car. Tee shirts in the laundry when I swore I washed them. Some new supplements I didn’t remember buying. It wasn’t until I popped one on Friday night and came to Monday morning fresh from the shower that I really started to get concerned.
At that point, I began noticing the physical effects. My previously smooth body had begun sprouting hair all over: my chest, my face, my arms, my ass. My voice easily dropped two octaves, deep and bellowing. And the muscle. They were not joking about growing muscle quick. My arms swelled as biceps, triceps, and forearms strained against my taught skin. Abs formed a cobblestone path down to a deep V. Firm pecs we’re established, but not for long. They continued to swell and stick out, heavy and juicy. They were almost hypnotic, the way they would jiggle as I walked. But that was nothing compared to my butt. Bubble would hardly describe it, they were pillow-like. A soft mix of muscle and fat filled out a rear that you could bounce a quarter off. Every part of me swelled and filled with power. That was when the smell really set in. No matter where I was, what I was doing, or how much I would wash I would catch this smell coming off of me. It wasn’t bad, in fact it was deep and masculine in a way that I couldn’t quite describe, but it drove me wild none the less. And I wasn’t the only one. Other bros around me would kind of drift off into their own worlds, with a distinct outline pushing against their pants. I’m not kidding dude, my boss drug me into a meeting last week. He started complaining about how my work was slipping but after just a few minutes he was basically in his own world as he just kinda leaned back in his chair and let it all hang out. I asked if I could go and he just kinda waved me off. There was a faint moan behind me as I closed the door.
At this point whole days were slipping by before I even registered they had started. It was this weekend that I somehow came to during one of my episodes. I was in the sauna in a gym I didn’t recognize. Two bros were in there, zonked out of their minds on my scent. But I realized that wasn’t all. In their state, laid back, sprawled on the bench, mouths hanging open, I saw a stream of liquid dribbling out of one guys mouth. Thick and viscous, I immediately knew the sight of jizz. I stumbled out of the room, leaving my towel behind. I texted my friend who sent me the videos in the first place. I hadn’t seen him since this had all began and I needed answers. I felt my scent catch up with me, tickling at my brain to go back into whatever trance I had been under. I wrapped a fresh towel around my nose and threw on the stringer top, shorts, and sandals I had in my locker. When had my feet grown so big? Free balling, I stormed out to my car and drove towards my friend’s place. When I arrived, the door was almost suspiciously unlocked. Who greeted me inside though was not the curly-haired, lanky, nerdy friend I knew.
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He was ripped, oozed confidence, and passed a beer into my hands before I could even process.
“What, not what you were expecting? You didn’t think I would let you have all the fun did you?”
I knew then that this was all his design, his plan for me. I wanted to leave but, every small twitch of this man mesmerized me. Instead, he pushed me onto the couch, covered in his sweaty workout gear, and I began to sip on my beer. He looked me up and down, assessed me like a piece of furniture he wasn’t quite sold on.
“Well, I think you’ve processed long enough. I think it’s time to see what all that training has done.”
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He pulled his shirt off and sat facing me in my lap. I was glued to my seat as this man tore my top off of me and pressed our exposed bodies together. My mind tried to to resist but my body betrayed me, as he raised my chin, slid his hand around my neck, and pulled my lips to his. I was enraptured. Our tongues danced as he began exploring my body with his hands. Quickly, he had my arms thrown behind my head as sweat trickled from my pits. He buried his face in and gave them a good sniff.
“Fuck babe, you’re ripe. Not as ripe as these though.”
He threw an arm back and guided my face to his pit. If my scent was good his was pure heroine. It consumed my mind as I felt my cock strain against my shorts. As I worshipped that stench, it kept growing and throbbing. My mind shut down, giving into raw pleasure. Nothing else mattered, I could live on this high alone. In this state, he pulled me out of his pit and asked:
“You want to live like this? You want to be controlled by your master’s scent?”
Fuck I did. Anything, I begged him, please. He gave me one last kiss as he walked out of the room, a video now playing on the TV.
“Then watch”
I felt myself slowly draining. A familiar voice droned out of the speakers, and I was throbbing for the release he would give me. In moments I was floating on nothing but the instructions of my master, and the scent of his used jockstraps lying around me…
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Anyone who met you now would have never guessed how you started. A scrawny guy, stressed day in and day out at your corporate job, and cripplingly lonely. Any memories you had of that life were left somewhere in an apartment, nothing but dried cum on the floor and wall. The new you was sexy, outgoing, and confident. You worked out non-stop and did everything your master said to. You are dumb and obedient, with not a thought behind that flirtatious wink. But above all, you are horny. And guys can smell it. They can’t do anything but relax and submit, prostates being milked as they moan for more. The best get brought home and watch a few videos before being sent out into the world. Flex, fuck, propagate.
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