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moondirti · 2 days

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ANGEL OF SMALL DEATH [ john price x f! reader ]

: he sees you when his vices take hold. little love, invented. chimeric, he assumed - until you're not.

mdni. noncon; addiction (nicotine and alcohol); SSRIs; intoxication; breeding kink; daddy kink; hallucinations; kidnapping; drugging; objectification; slut-shaming; sexual harassment; violence; bondage; vomiting; guns; suicide, murder, pregnancy, spanking and branding mentions. 7k.

a/n: have yall seen ruby sparks? yeah imagine that but worse

John's always had his fixes.

He remembers the hysterics. Five and wet behind the ears, lungs scoured raw of anguish when his mum hadn't let him sup the vanilla extract. It's not what you'd expect, hun. But the child-sized idée fixe, destructive in its naivety, turned its head at the implication. He stuck his nose to the bottle's cap, got a whiff of it unfiltered, and revolted; how could it taste like anything but the ambrosia it promised?

Or, who was she to deny he try?

(His resistance to authority can be spoored there. A miasmic trail back to youth, stinking something foul. It had been a Sisyphean effort, pyrrhic, when he enlisted. Burnishing odour only to find, without it, there was nothing left for them to make use of.)

So – red-faced, tousled pyjamas at 2200, balanced atop a chair as his parents snored soundly on the couch – he snuck a teaspoon for himself.

It was foul, of course. A calcine irritation that clawed on its way down his throat, baring raw tissue in its wake. He hid his coughs behind his sleeves, vision cloudy with tears as he put everything back where it belonged – not disappointed so much as he was committed, he thinks. Because the very next night, he came back to try it again.

And again, and again.

Like clockwork, he tipped the small vial up onto his tongue and hoped it would pass into something different. Obsessive. Ruinous monomania. His dreams sprung into caliginous visions that detailed nothing but the phantom touch of it to his tongue; this taste, syrupy sweet like nothing he would find in comfits and puddings and pies.

(In hindsight, all it did was teach him how to embrace the burn.)

It only stopped when his mum woke to him voiding his guts in an old popcorn bowl. Poison control, buoyant levity clipped over the rotary phone, told her that it happens all the time. Kids go looking for a midnight snack and think vanilla will hit the spot. Our suggestion is to settle for alternatives until he's old enough to know better. Hydrate in the meanwhile.

– know better.

It's hard to say he does.

His wants still have wants, have asinine wants, that which keep him so late into the night that it's dawn before he falls comatose. Sunk into a leather wingback, the space of his parlour more smoke than it is air, contemplating keeping a warm body in these hinterlands. Helplessly soft, pretty. Fixated on that faceless something, burrowed beneath his sweet tooth again.

But on the wrong side of forty, he's honed prudence like a well-oiled firearm. Custom so things run smoothly, though not one he finds necessary if it weren't for convention. He knows his job would cut in on the upkeep, month long absences like a disease to whoever he manages to snare. It'll kill them, slowly, holed up in this home alone.

(When his parents did away with the extract, he tore the curtains and scribbled on their walls. A boy's green version of withdrawal, deprived of his favourite vice. He's never considered sobriety for that very reason – he's bad even with a maduro in hand.

And the thing about people, they're never so easy to replenish.)

Age besets everything. Counters them, grown as he is. Pragmatic.

Still. To say he knows better is... faulty, flawed. Not when he fists his cock to those fantasies and stirs on all the ways he can bring them to light. Early retirement (a prompt no; he's just as dependant on the field), or multiple little loves to keep each other company, his house turned an Arcadia of nymphs (though he tires to think of wrangling more than one, and the idea diffuses like sugar steeped in tea.)

It's on his fourth- fifth iteration that John starts to see it for what it really is. That this – a darling wife to curl between his legs – is like the imagined taste of vanilla extract. Too good to ever be made true. At least for a man of his ilk, whose bloody hands slip around nirvana. Unearned. Chained to purgatory so long as he weighs sins against the greater good. He wasn't meant for the finer things in life.

So he sticks to what he has. Old familiars. Noxious inhibitors, palmed for upwards of ten pounds, crafted for old dodgers like himself. Tobacco, dry whiskey. Nicotine to spout fire to his hindbrain. Cheap, easy accesses that sate the itch behind his eyes, so long as he lights another.

Ouroboros. It feeds itself and lasts.

(Until you come off the tail end that is, and sever the loop with your own, clever little hands.)

You pose a different kind of problem.

It starts after Serbia. Hounding across the Carpathian mountains for the better part of a winter has detrimental effects, see. And though he eventually locates the bunker Laswell's informants alerted them to, he comes out of it changed – head fixed the wrong way around, skin flaking over off a mulish swell of anger. Going back home is an ordeal when his body acclimatised to find warmth in the frost, talking to Stygian shadows like comrades. Necessitated madness revoked.

Because all of a sudden, everything is too comfortable. Vibrant. Nothing hurts enough to match the stress still ricocheting within him, and the imbalance threatens to capsize. The doctors prescribe SSRIs, tell him to keep it separate, Captain, when their eyes skim that part of his file that notes him as a habitual drinker – so he switches from bourbon to Canadian whiskey, like the ABV will make a difference.

(That inveterate defiance, rearing its ugly head once more.)

And really, he doesn't get what all the fuss is about.

The static in his head flatlines, white noise taking its slot. It's the greatest peace he's found since his bunkmate at boarding school stuck a joint between his teeth and told him to suck. Like fog wearing over a hill, his thoughts grow muddied, loose and abandoned once he can't tell which way is up or where the sky ends.

And the wants, the very same he's long since buried, come back with a vengeance. Unchanged, for the most part (he doubts they were ever dead in the first place) yet manifested differently, like they're privy to the scepticism that killed them last.

(Reveries no longer disembodied, shuddering old film onto the backs of his eyes, but projected into the dark corners of his house, instead.)

He hears your laugh, first. It is early March and easter endorsements already shade the telly in garish joie de vivre, corporations fighting for a foot in your spring celebrations! Buy an egg-dying kit and get one free, hurry before it's too late! John doesn't remember turning it on, can hardly feel the remote in his hands, but that acedia ebbs once the sound of it meets his ears. The sound of you–

Jingle-bell mischievous, he knows it has no place amidst the foolish ditties of spring. He turns the T.V. off, sitting upright in his chair, ears piqued in every direction as he waits for it again.

From the kitchen: another breathless titter, tapped from a chest too delicate to be mistaken for the howling winds outside. When he rises to inspect the source, he swipes the spare gun he uses to foot a broken table, trigger finger dangling bonelessly by the grip. Good to have it there, just in case, though he's confident he won't need to resort to such measures to neutralise you – not if you equal the Zephyr-like quality of your voice.

(Paranoia, it seems, is another effect of downing his meds with Crown Royal. Had he been less inebriated, he would have remembered that his doors are double bolted, and that there's no one out for miles.)

But what he expects to find, luminous between the birch cupboard rows, is not there. His kitchen is as empty as it's always been.

So, they might have warned him about it. He might have avoided this whole thing had he listened. But things snowball when he grasps what's happening. Calamitous uptake; it invades his dreams again, and his dreams invade reality.

(If he cannot have what he wants within the provident constrictions of life, then what's the harm in indulging himself, if only a little.)

Soon enough, he sees glimpses of you wherever he looks.

Sylphic figure come to haunt him. Light bounces through you, your flesh gossamer-like. Diaphanous. He thinks you cannot be crafted that way if not to accent the dark, wet rims of your eyes. The lightning-branched veins etched to all four extremities. Nipples like petals, touched alluringly to your breasts. He thinks you cannot be fictitious – he's never been an inventive man, and the impish flick of your lips reads as familiar, somehow. Dancing on the tip of his tongue, or a song he's heard once and never again. Like he's taken to it before–

His memory swishes like watered nectar in this state. It's impossible to place.

Still–

So long as you continue to appear as fine mist does, chasing the throttles of his high, John's a happy man. He need not tell you anything; you already know his name, what it is he likes. You sway to imagined tunes (later, he couples it to the erratic drumming of his heart) and jump nimbly around his legs, winding and tangling and falling right through them when he wishes to see you stumble.

You don't talk much, either. He has yet to whet the finer points of your being, work out what makes you tick or how you'd enunciate your words. It's an eggshell process. Fragile. Some nights, he'll imagine you with a cadence that doesn't quite fit, and you'll stutter like a faulty motor before shattering from view. To avoid disillusionment, he has to be careful. Extend a platter of properties for you to choose from, picky thing, and watch as you notch them on your tongue, testing.

You'll get this look on your face as you do. Contemplative, lips pursed for a moment before you shrug and slide down to decorate his feet, arms stretched across his ottoman like willow branches over a creek. It would put him off if it were anyone else, but he's eternally endeared to you.

The first time you speak, it's to call him out on that.

'Naturally.' You giggle, twirling your phantom fingers in the tufts of his leg hair. 'You have to like something in order for me to present it. Or is that not how it works?'

He doesn't think so.

"You tell me, little one. If that were the case, why disappear when I try something you aren't keen on, hm?" His words are slurred, strung together hastily, like his tongue hasn't the strength to articulate each in full. You understand him anyway, of course, scrunching your nose.

'I don't know.'

"Think, then."

You shuffle straighter on your knees.

'Maybe I want to be just right for you, daddy. Not all your ideas are great.'

John jerks his leg admonishingly, the joint of it passing right through you. It causes you to blink out of existence for a second, and his throat twists uncomfortably around the new darkness. Loneliness hurts more, harrows deeper, now that he's unused to it.

But you come back, straddling his hips this time. You always do

(So long as he keeps sipping, the glass in his hand sweating cool condensation into his skin. His cigar slowly smoulders away in a nearby ashtray, waiting for the uptake.)

"Mm, thought I lost ya." And if you were there – really there, he thinks – he'd wrap your hair in a fat fist and angle your head roughly down onto his. His arms lay flat to his sides, however. Restless.

'No.' You don't exhibit the same discretion. You smooth down his bare chest, ironing his scars until he feels brand new again. Whole as a kid. 'Haven't you heard? I have a tongue now, and all I wanna do is talk.'

"Is that right?" He hums, half-lidded eyes watch the space between your knees widen. Like Artemis in her waters, cursing Actaeon to the jowls of his dogs – you love teasing him when you know he cannot do anything about it, destined to be torn apart by his inborn desire.

'Well, what else is there?'

And if not for that one thing, John would be content to live like this forever.

(Two, if you count his prescription quickly running out.)

Routine lasts about a fortnight, if his taking of time is to be trusted.

Staged courting, you call it. A production of how typical romances go. When the sky bruises, opening up like the ripe flesh of a plum, he'll knock back two tablets using the last dregs of his afternoon whiskey and wait for you to come home to him. You look stunning when you arrive; naked, your body soft and creased and effulgent. And while it depends on how his day's been, more often than not, you'll imitate rubbing his feet as he tells you about everything – paperwork and the taskforce and state secrets (does confidentiality count towards figments of his high?) – before he's settled enough to cut to the chase.

Yet he runs out of patience for it as time hauls on. Avidity amasses, tumorigenic need cramping his chest. One day, he stops you from kneeling at all.

"No need for that, sweet thing." He orders with a stiff grunt. There's no justification as to why, though it's clear you sense it already. The fraying strings of his sanity, that which you bat at like a playful kitten, have started to unravel dangerously close to what is holding it all together. "Just do what you do best, hm?"

(The best you can do–)

'Yes, daddy.'

Ever-dutiful, despite the monotony. There are no arguments with you, no taming and fights unless he's in a particularly aggressive mood. The only indication of your disappointment (not yours so much as it is his in himself) is the wet flutter of your lashes, the poking harlequin pout.

Both disappear from view when you turn your back to him and bend at the hip, small hands stretching to dig into your behind. His cock is out in no time – was practically tearing at his pant's seams, really – thrumming painfully hard, leaking onto his stomach when you pull apart either cheek like dough.

Your pussy spreads, glimmering under a matting of wiry hair. Arousal (feigned, imagined, projected–) webs your thighs together, swollen clit budding at the end of your mons. Apple of Eden; his jerks are awkward, uncoordinated, in comparison. Human. There's a twinge in his wrist from working himself almost daily.

His teeth taste like tobacco and spice, sleep clinging to the roof of his mouth. Would you eclipse it with your sweet-sour tang? He pictures taking you; stuffing his nose right below the tight rim of your ass so his tongue can lave over your slit. Working you open with his tongue. You'd soak the hair around his lips, and he'd press harder in response.

John spoils you rotten in his dreams. You know it, too, toes wiggling where you stand a few feet away. How cruel that he shouldn't get the chance to, then – that he has to consume his fixes to stop them from taunting him, and you're God's way of saying that he can't always get what he wants.

Carrot on a fucking stick. He's made an arse of. And worse yet–

He can't cum, no matter how enticingly you stand there. His palms are too calloused, nerves grown bored of their rough drag. Every jerk is a barely-there sensation. Surface level. Shallow. Like a rock skipping across a lake that never manages to sink.

(It never did amount to what you do to him in his head. But it seems as though his body has finally caught on to what the rest of him already knew.

That this – this tragic, autogenous slaking of carnal desire – can not continue on forever.)

He groans, paralysis needling painfully up his neck. It echoes like anger and holds none of the punch.

Breaking position, you twist to assess the newborn tension.

'Shhhh,' You coo. There's no judgement in your glassy eyes, none that can perceive (or wants to see). Rather, it's all pure love, a whisper of distress, and devotion. His little love, so perfect besides this one thing. 'I'm sorry. I'm sorry.'

"Not your fault." Hoarse. Broken.

(Who has he become?)

'I'd help you if I could. Let you take whatever you wanted from me, you wouldn't even have to ask.'

He'd been the one to initiate it, but the prospect of his orgasm is long abandoned when you perch on the armrest, laying your head near his. He has nowhere else to put his hands, so he keeps them cupped between his thighs – and if he suspends utilitarianism for long enough, can almost believe that they're yours, instead.

"That's nice, little one."

He imagines your warmth, the soft comfort of your bosom, as sleep encroaches on his periphery. You'd cup the tired weight of his head and lay it on your lap, there to stay until he awakes to birdsong. There in the morning light.

Thus the minutes tick by in quiet melancholy. He's halfway layered in the pelts of hypnagogia before you speak again.

'You should visit town tomorrow. Mail something home for Mother's Day maybe, and stop by the grocer's for eggs. You're all out.'

He hasn't seen greater society for almost a month.

A wicked hangover splits his skull, worming its claws into the soft matter of his brain. John had initially set out to do as you bid him – find a nice present for his mum and stock up for the next few weeks' hibernation – but the throngs of people crowding home goods and the jewellers make his condition worse, so he resolves to call her on the day and heads straight to the market instead.

Eggs, you said. He needs a lot more than that. Water and red meat and perhaps something that leaks grease when fried. Cucumbers, yoghourt, granola, too. Milk or juice, never both because he can't commit to finishing them before their best-by date. Fruit. Cookies.

The list grows exponentially as he surveys the colourful aisles, under eyes tender to the touch. If it weren't for the cart carrying most of his weight, he would have toppled over already, his chest dipped over the handle, wheels barreling forward. The store's empty enough that he doesn't worry about clipping someone's ankles. For now, it's just him.

Always that. Just him, and–

"Ah!"

Fuck.

"Are you alright?" He defaults, lurching to pluck the rolling oranges off the floor. It necessitates far more exertion than he can handle at the moment. The woman he ran into catches what bowls from his reach.

"Oh, yes! So sorry, that one's on me." She laughs, nervous. The nature of it – gentle, shaky like the beat of a butterfly's wing – rouses a near Pavlovian response in him, pleasantries crystallising between his teeth, hard as pearls. He coasts a suspicious look up, but her head stays bowed as she piles everything into her basket, arched baseball cap obscuring her features. "I insist on carrying everything, see, then it gets too much for me and the baskets are the nearest thing, and you know how heavy those can get if you do some serious shopping, don't you?. Honestly, I never learn. How silly."

The wonder shatters. He cringes, eyelids pruning shut to gather his sore thoughts in the sudden clammer. Talks too much, too loud. He finds it hard to tolerate anything but singsong whispers these days.

(On him, he knows.)

Unceremonious, they both stand. John extends the final orange, appraising the products she tucks it between rather than look back up at her. Sugar, butter, eggs, flour. And a hefty heap of citrus, of course. Odd.

She seems to think the same, breaking the awkward lull first.

"Big family?" The question is clearly well-intentioned – posed to the stacked contents of his cart. No well-adjusted man would hoard as many perishables for himself, not with the grocer's as accessible as it is. But John is not well-adjusted in any sense of the word, especially in the past few months. All her prying does, then, is inflame the irritation dusting his throat, kneading salt into the wound.

How incredibly unfortunate timing.

"Gingivitis?" He clips back. His hangover makes regret a hard thing to reach, though given she doesn't take offence to his snipe.

"Ouch, okay." She laughs, more lighthearted than before. It reminds him of you (you, is anything its own thing anymore?) and John feels a fire light his heels. Agitation to get back home. "No, I'm making orange shortbread for the old folks at the nursing home. Needed to replenish a few things. I haven't baked in a while."

"How nice."

"'Tis the season! Erm– I mean. Y'know, with Mother's Day."

(Later, when he's staring at his fingers, sozzled like a cat on cream, he replays this conversation over in his head like he'll be able to change its outcome. Had he been alert, he'd have picked up on it by now. Christmas platitudes in spring – who else did he know with such transgressive peculiarities?

Captain Price wouldn't have missed it. Unfortunately for him, he left that intensity between powdered ice and silver firs.)

"Anyway." She coughs. He didn't realise he was expected to respond, stare lingering on the exit some distance away, keen to see this end. In his periphery, her cap tips down, supply list clutched in fidgety hands as she reads down the line of ingredients. He forces his attention back to the moment, training his eyes on the curve of her skull. "Just one thing left. Um, should be down hereeeee–"

Her head tilts up again, searching for the aisle markers overhead.

And it's–

Painful. Like the rip release of every organ seizes simultaneously, domino discharge down his spine. Ribs flush suddenly into the flaring muscle of his heart, which thrashes wildly against the corral, desperate to see itself out. To reach across this empty space and leech on to the delicate features that come into view. His brain – startled out of its judiciousness – blares I told you so's to the hot rush of blood behind his ears. Marrow melts to oil his joints, unmooring their structural integrity, and his breakfast threatens to disgorge and make for a foul first impression.

(John always thought revelations came kindly, that they blossomed in the neglected forks of life. Like a summer boscage, or the gentle, prying hands of a monarch escaping its cocoon. How can divulgence be anything but soft, and refined? How would the world grapple with them if otherwise?

He sees it now for what it is.

The world would have no choice.)

"Vanilla extract." You shake your list, smiling at him – a vivid, honest smile – before you brush right out of view.

He tells himself this doesn't change things. No matter how you like to argue the opposite.

'I don't see why not, daddy. Don't you want me, too?'

More than he'd like anything else in the world. But it's back again, that reaper of dreams poison control once foretold. Know better. He does, at least to the extent that bringing you here – tying you to his bed posts like he so desperately wants to do – is not the best idea. His age, his job, his incessant fucking wants, all pave their own desire paths; some more practical than others but less tempting as a result.

He knows how loneliness kills. At least he's built for it, but you?

"Work complicates things, little one."

John finds it all unfurling before him, the coffin housing his fears unhinged.

(You, dead by your own hands or worse, made vulnerable to the brutes he works against. Not a possibility when you're linked to him like this, hallucinatory, unreal, but you – the you he saw earlier today – aren't any of those things.)

'You don't really believe that, do you?'

You're never so argumentative. He sucks his teeth, waving a hand through your hips. And it must snub you so, for you disappear like smoke beneath a cloudburst of rain.

No matter. He doesn't need the temptation finding him.

(That is, until an answer finds him first.)

He phones home for Mother's Day, and she asks for updates for any lucky miss he would call his.

In the borders of his vision, you're hunched over the persian rug that was a gift from an associate for a job well done. Your feet cross over each other, fingers working idly at pretending to braid the fringed edge. The sight gets the better of him, adorable, and he briefly considers switching his answer from the usual – wish you'd stop fretting, it's not doing your health any favours – until sense catches on. He wouldn't know how to deal with the questions.

"No."

"What a shame. I know you're busy with that job and all, John," Because his mother never addresses the big risk to her son's life by name. "but you really should work on making me some grandbabies, before I pass on to the earth."

"Please, mum. Don't start with that nonsense–"

"No! It's any day now, you know it as well as I do." She tuts. He remembers her hands – tracing cool patterns onto his scalp that night, back when he was five and only concerned with the best taste his mouth could fathom. He remembers, and thinks of the wrinkled stretch of them now. "Take this as my last word of wisdom! Family will be the one thing you have when those milking tosser's decide to do away with you. Family, John!"

He chokes back a sigh.

"Yeah. So you've said."

Family. So bloody simple, isn't it?

Iron-wrought key, right under his nose this whole time.

His last two pills frown at him from behind their orange confines, two-toned and unassuming. He could get more if he so pleased, but the hope is that they won't be necessary after tonight.

Carried by the bourbon that blazes down his gullet, they go down smoothly. Soon enough, you appear, summoned, as he laces his boots.

"Does it hurt you, sweet thing?" He finally asks, punching an arm through his windbreaker's sleeve. April showers carry bracingly after dusk, weatherproof attire a functional choice.

That is to say, the towel in his pocket isn’t for him.

You gain that elvish look to your face, of the same variety he fell in love with when you first appeared to him. He often forgets how otherworldly you can be; radiant, inhuman vision. Your mirror isn't so... remarkable. Frizzy hair, fleshly, bleeding behind round cheeks. Perhaps that's the appeal.

'F'course not. It is me, after all.'

"Is it?" The front door clicks behind him, new-washed breeze pushing it into place. It feels final, like casting his decision in stone.

'Hmm,' You pretend to think for a long, long while, prancing a solid two paces behind no matter what speed he sets. A new moon blights the fields around his home, sparse raindrops reflecting only your glowing figure. It lights the way until he reaches the skirts of town, when street lamps bleed gold down onto him. Only then do you speak again. 'I should think so, yes. Take a left here.'

John does as you say.

'Though she won't be as receptive to it all. Right.'

He turns right.

'You’ll have to decide how to deal with that.'

"I'd appreciate a few pointers."

'What do you think I'm doing, daddy?' You murmur, materialising before him as he comes up on an avenue known for its nightlife. 'Take a right here and keep going.'

"And you?" He asks, though he already knows the answer.

'I'll be there.'

You are. Though you’re not alone.

Two cretins crowd you into a brick wall, lanky arms anchored by your head to form a flimsy aviary. John hears their badgering a block away; crowing voices, placatory promises they wouldn’t be able to uphold even if they knocked back a viagra each. The wind carries it, works their whispers into fine dust. Powder. Negligible. He’s seen this dance before – this dreadful caper, a little bit of force behind what is otherwise an insipid show – but he’s usually above such drama. The men he keeps know not to ask for what they want. Not when it hazards a bird flapping out of reach.

You’ve got to clip their wings, first.

Though you look like you’d be indebted to any sort of hero. The hem of your dress rides up your thigh, snapping away from restive hands. Shortening what is already… He resolves to admonish you about it later, traipsing closer to the scene. Given your ornament, he can’t blame these men beyond covetous reason, but he won’t topple it onto you either.

Everything flays out before him. Of the bunch, you demand the slyest hand.

“C’mon, love. It isn’t that far of a walk.”

“Yeah. You’re pissed out of yer mind a’ready. Can’t go home now, huh?”

“Would be so cute between us both.”

“The best. Look at those wide eyes.”

“Busy checkin’ out the arse on her, but I’ll get to her eyes in a minute.”

Your face crumbles in on itself. He’s closer now. Can make out the mascara painting black tracks down your cheeks, lips smeared by the rain – or, the alternative, pecking vultures having claimed them already. Either way, a green-eyed serpent seethes in the curls of his gut, blood imbued venom coursing. He feels it wind, poising for attack, strength compressed into a tight ball of anger.

Then, when one of them – ginger, juvenile – snakes a hand between your legs, it strikes.

He rips his gun from the inner lining of his coat. The other kid is shorter, more on edge, so John doesn’t worry about the force it’d take to daunt him. When the cold press of his muzzle fixes to his companion’s temple, he dashes away with a pathetic screech, tripping over the loose ends of his shoelaces. Par for the course. Weasel.

The ginger isn’t so lucky.

“You get off on scaring defenceless girls, lad?” He barks into his ear, one hand gripping both floundering wrists. The boy cringes, fear rattling his throat. Any response he tries to shape turns out a nasally wheeze.

“P-Please-”

“Shut your fucking trap. You’d have a better shot at mercy carving your little cock off.”

“I w-wo– we were just-t having fun. No harm… harm done, right?” The pleas recourse to you. In his periphery, John registers your frown. Half-hearted. Scared still – of both the unfamiliar, violent men. He peels the commotion two steps back to show he means no harm.

(To his narrow definitions, of course. His plans for you constitute harm in anyone else’s book. He’s sure that, if you were wise to them, you’d slip in the other direction.)

“She doesn’t seem to think so.”

“No! No, p-please, p–” He silences the boy with a pistol-whip, blunt end of the gun breaking skin off his jaw. The message couldn’t have been clearer – twice now, he’s demanded silence – but no one seems to listen. His cries peak, out-of-tune in the pitter-patter shower. Tortured, like a mangled cat.

“Here’s what you’re going to do, yeah?” The air flutters around you. He’s trained to tread carefully, like you’ll disappear at any moment. Better make this quick, then. “You’re going to go home, lock your windows, and try to sleep with an eye open tonight. The young lady’s welfare matters more than your fate, but I don’t forget. There will be a time where I come to break every finger off your hand. Enjoy them in the meanwhile.”

Perfunctory, he shoves him to the muddy floor. Blood joins the streams sluicing to the sewers, inky swirls of gore a welcome sight. He hasn’t felt this alive since–

Well, since Serbia.

And the boy must see the predatory gleam in his eyes. The dead, inbred callousness. Shark out of the water. Knows what’s good for him as the fin breaks the surface, rows of teeth just underneath, because he runs off before they can snap around his clumsy legs.

(You, on the other hand, don’t have that instinct. Instead, you blubber, seal on a floating icecap.

And dive headfirst into his jowls.)

“T-Thank you, I can’t thank you enough. I- My friends left me and I didn’t have a ride home and no one was picking up my calls so I thought it would be safe to ask them, but I couldn’t have predicted how nasty they’d be. Really, they seemed like nice guys–”

John censures you with a stare.

“You should know better than to be out at this time.”

He’s gotten good at imagining your responses. He needn’t hear what you have to say next. Before you can even open your mouth, the chloroform-doused towel in his pocket is out and pasted to your pretty face.

There’s a brief pause where he expects you to fall through to the floor. But your body slumps, ragdoll boneless, right into his arms.

That’s what brings him here.

Here: cotton rope hitching your elbows together behind your back, a column of square-knots parallel to both arms. It was what he managed while you were unconscious. Could have managed more – so much more, tick off the beginnings on a cosmic index of all the things he wants to fucking do with you – if it weren’t for patchy effort. He went a little rabid, see. Clipped off the leash, chain to the doghouse broken. Saw the time better spent fondling your supple curves, your body lax beneath his.

Weakened or willing, it doesn’t matter so much as you’re corporeal. That he can.

(A book he bought as a much younger man details seven different ways to harness a chest. If he had a grip, he would have seen to it – your breasts purpling, ensnared in a lattice of his own construction. It’s this new, foul fascination. How many ways can a body bend before it breaks? He’s never been mindful of the line before, on the field, but he’s got one to do with as he pleases, now.)

Little one. New toy, fix. His wife.

You process it all in your own time, sleepy eyes peeling open to find that you’re no longer in some dingy alleyway. Though your hair has yet to dry, he’s made good work of paring the damp dress off your form, the steady warmth of a fireplace making for a gentle come-to. John takes it as encouragement when a tired yawn splits your mouth, lips quirking up. Smiling.

“Look at you.” He hums, thumb working quicker over your clit. With legs notched apart, your cunt’s been made vulnerable, bared to every ministration he couldn’t wait to inflict until after you woke. Thus you’re already weeping a steady stream of slick, folds lacquered in arousal. Leaking down the line of your ass, too. Desperate thing. He scrutinises the sloppy mess of it, doughy and swollen and wet, shoulders flexing over the possessive swell in his throat.

It’s comical, the turnaround. Reality overruns your face, peaky infestation from his carcass to yours. Your eyes well with teary distress as you take him in. What a monster he must make; frothy longing turned savagery, held too long under the blighted mass of his tongue. Festered. Ugly. He sees it himself in the contrast of his skin and yours. Where you’re satin, all incandescent sweat-slicked stretch, he’s 60 grit sandpaper. Sun-hardened leather and crooked scars.

“Hnmphh!”

But he can ignore that. Doesn’t have to concern himself with rejection, not when the bit gag between your teeth renders you mute. Simple knot sandwiched by your molars. Subtle. He doesn’t want it to hurt today – not any more than necessary, at least – but conversation has gotten old. There’s a reason he brought you home. Why thick fingers work your hole, breaking it to house something bigger. He isn’t interested in soft-soaping anymore.

(The two of you have had your honeymoon already.)

No. Purpose, he thinks. His mum laid it all out for him. A family to bear you company during those long weeks he isn’t home. Family, linchpin to making this all work. To crowd this house with not just one, or two, but multiple sweet things that’ll extinguish the lonely flame at its hearth. He celebrates it already – boisterous corners, crowded kitchens, the cable he pays for finally being put to use.

And you–

“Promise I’ll suck that pretty pussy like I promised, little one. Just– fuck- daddy just has to do something first, yeah? You gonna be good for me?” John huffs, shucking his trousers to fish himself out of his pants.

Your muffled protests launch into something else entirely, feral defiance compelling your limbs like electric shock. It’s fusillade, violent devastation. Your legs flail, unhinged, compensating for the lost mobility in your arms. He manages to slip his fingers out of your clutch and tuck a hand under either knee, but not before your heel connects to his jaw. As is true on the field, adrenaline primes a strong kick. Metallic warmth swathes the inside of his cheek, strength waning for a second.

And through it all, you have the audacity to cry.

When he regains his bearings, anger has supplanted care. He hoists your thighs up onto your chest, calves upright in the air, and pushes a knee forcefully into the space exposed. It flattens your cunt with the pressure, clit crushing in on itself. Agony bulges fine lines at your temples, veins bloating as a miserable scream tears from your throat.

“I’ll cane your ass raw if you keep up with this. Strike your hole until all you’ll feel for weeks is your punishment. That what you want, mm? Want the memory of our child’s conception to be filled with pain?”

His nose fits to yours, beard tickling the canyon of your upper lip. It's intense, the proximity. Heat flush between you, sustained fire you can’t pull away from. John watches the hesitancy flit over your eyes, the reluctance of a burn, breaths erratic and shallow. You didn’t breathe, before. Didn’t need to. But he finds that he likes the new rhythm of it. Like watching the life drain from a quarry, game bleeding out into Serbian snow. He never thought he’d miss hunting for survival – not until he had you pressed to his side, lured from those other predators into something much worse.

(And perhaps that’s what’s been absent, all along. You used to come too easy, allowed him to grow permissive and lazy. But this–

His skin fits the moniker again. Captain, revitalised in his bones.)

You shake your head no, just as he rubs his cock along your entrance.

The feeding is effortless. You practically draw him in, needy for it, walls conforming to the fat intrusion until his head nestles against a hard spot. Steel-wool pubes tangles in your own, scratching the sensitive hood of your clit as he adjusts to the balmy suffocation. Tight. So fucking tight, more so than he could have imagined, your struggle working against you as it contracts the muscles around the area.

His teeth knock into yours, borderline bruising kiss closing the gap. Should he give it a moment’s breath, his lips would swell blue. But he keeps you to him, your reluctant mouth slow against his own – impeded by the gag and your own stubbornness, snivels sucked into his gluttonous abyss. It tastes like seawater and vanilla, the wires crossing in his brain.

This, he thinks, is the taste he’s been searching for all his life.

This petty space separating you, a carpet of chest hair laid over our thighs. Breathing one another in, memorising the scars behind your cheeks. Pistoning into your cunt, making room for himself in the years and years to come. He’ll never get enough of you. You’ll never get enough of it – once you learn to embrace the pleasure wrought out of you.

In due time.

He batters parallel to your cervix, plunging deep as he can go. You’re slippery with the effort, wet where you thrum fierce, depravity stringing the oscillating gap of your mons and his pelvis. Binds you to him like gauze on a day-old wound, sticky and raw, and you must be a masochist if the stiffening of your joints is anything to go by. Your pupils roll, stupid, to regard the back of your head. Fucked dumb. Nerves snapping, limbic system miswiring.

“Can’t wait to see my seed take, have you grow round and glowing.” He growls, speaking into your cheek. The faint hints of your cologne, long faded under rain and sweat, cram temptingly into his synapses. It’s all he can do not to take a whole bite of you, now that he can. Wants to see the evidence of his ownership mark your skin; violent, a little bloody. Physical. Carnal. Imperfect presence honing in the fact that it is better than none at all.

“Mmmmff,”

“Yeah? Want me to keep you pumped full of my cum? Think that would be nice. Plugging you shut. Maybe suspending you upside down so it’s a sure process. How does that sound, sweet thing? Y’like it?”

Your feet thump weakly on his back.

“Then cum. Go on, be a good girl f’me.”

And with the orchestration of it all; your already tense pelvic floor, the rippling liquid of your eyes, the stifled voicing of your plight–

John can’t tell whether or not you do.

You tire yourself out, eventually.

It’s much later; the rise of a new morning flooding his home in sheer blues, illuminating last night’s mess. Without the orange glow of firelight, it looks a lot less romantic. Torn clothes, cotton fibres. Body fluids matting the pelts he uses to break up the floors. He would have it in him to blanch at the forfeiture of his self-control, cringe a little for appearance sake. He’s grown, now. Should know better.

But there’s no one around. No one. Just him, christening a loveseat instead of his wingback, and–

You, knocked out on his lap, rope burns raw up your arms.

(When you wake again, he’ll make it official. A passing of the torch, so to speak, from one fix to the next. He hasn’t a band, or really any certification to make it legal. But–

The lit end of his cigar should do. Touched, fittingly, to the proximal length of your ring finger.)

John’s always had his fixes.

He finds he’s finally had his fill when you cradle his child close to your breast, and reach out a hand for him, too.

i do not have a taglist. to be alerted when i post / update, please follow @moondirti-archive and turn on post notifs.

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penguintimes · 3 days

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Not my fault || Fridolina Rolfö x Reader (18+)

Summary: You tease Frido.

Popped back after a month to drop a fic. Hope everyone enjoys! Feedback is very welcome.

It was Frido’s fault, really.

It was in the morning, when she stepped out of the bedroom dressed in a pair of leather pants that hugged her ass perfectly and a short sleeved white blouse. Her golden hair framed her face perfectly, tickling you when she bent down to kiss you goodbye as she left for media day.

It was almost unfair how she had towered over you, brushing her lips so gently over yours, her larger hands cradling your head. You felt small.

You weren’t particularly short by any means. You were around 165cm, which was average height. Of course, Frido was anything but average, and you certainly did not dislike it.

The feeling of her being so clearly physically superior, though… It sent a rush of excitement between your legs. While her kiss had been nothing but chaste, you were left standing in the kitchen with a racing heartbeat, breathing heavily as your coffee got cold.

It was just your luck that she would be gone the entire day. Frido was also incredibly possessive over your orgasms, and had a diabolical sixth sense for whether you disobeyed her or not, so you couldn’t just quickly take care of yourself in her absence.

So that left you with only one choice. Suffer through your persistent yearning for your girlfriend.

You had planned on having a quiet day reading or watching tv on your couch. You disliked going out frequently, so it had seemed like the ideal day in.

You couldn’t possibly have predicted the predicament you would find yourself in. You simply could not focus. Every sentence in your book was read and then forgotten just as quickly. Every page was reread multiple times before you could even begin to claim to have registered what was written.

All you could focus on was the increasingly difficult to ignore ache between your legs.

After half an hour of struggling through your book (which you had been very excited about), you gave up and turned on the tv. Perhaps a good series would take your mind off things.

No such luck. You tossed the tv remote on the coffee table in frustration, groaning. Rubbing your eyes desperately, you suddenly sat up as you had an idea.

It would land you in deep shit of course. Frido would take you apart with her sheer dominance. But you were desperate. And horny. You just wanted to give her a taste of her own medicine, although you knew she hadn’t intended to turn you on that morning.

You weren’t going to lie to yourself, it was purely selfish to want her to suffer as you were suffering.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you took a picture of your hand in your shorts, sending it to Frido with a cheeky “I miss you” text.

She didn’t see it immediately, so over the next hour or so, you sent her a string of pictures, each one more compromising than the last, along with a long chain of texts, ranging from innocent “i love you” texts to utterly filthy ones.

Finally, your phone rang. Smirking to yourself, you declined the call. It rang again, and you let it.

Your anticipation grew as you received a text from Frido, a simple “stop”.

Although it had done absolutely nothing for your frustration, you felt deeply satisfied in knowing that at the very least, Frido was probably feeling just as frustrated as you were.

The rest of the day was spent alternating between mindlessly watching trashy netflix shows and obsessively cleaning the already spotless apartment.

You entertained yourself by imagining what Frido would do to you when she got back home. Would she edge you until you begged her to let you come, or would she fuck you roughly until you begging from overstimulation?

Finally, you heard the sound of keys jingling in the locks. You stood up, half in anticipation and half in fear.

Frido walked in, an unreadable expression etched into her face. You stood there, frozen, not daring to say anything.

She silently took off her coat and put her keys on the counter, then approached you. You could liken the image to a panther stalking towards you. She stopped right in front of you, forcing you to crane your neck upwards to maintain the uncomfortable eye-contact that had you paralyzed.

It unnerved you deeply that she hadn’t spoken a word yet. Maybe you should say something.

You opened your mouth, then shut it abruptly as Frido’s jaw clenched.

She brought one of her large hands to the back of your neck, squeezing lightly and sending shivers through your entire body. Using your neck as leverage, she led you to the bedroom.

Closing the door behind her, she turned to observe you.

‘Care to explain yourself? And don’t lie to me.’ She glared at you, daring you to disobey.

You stayed silent, slightly regretting your decision-making.

‘Nothing?’ Frido growled, ‘You had so much to say earlier. What a shame.’

‘I’m sorry,’ You whispered, hanging your head half in shame, half in intense arousal.

‘Why?’ She hissed, ‘Because you’re a needy brat who got herself worked up and decided to distract me at work? Do you know how badly I’ve been losing my mind?’

‘I just-’ you tried to explain yourself, but Frido cut you off with a rough shove onto the bed.

‘Shut up and let me fuck you.’

She all but ripped your clothes off of you, kissing you roughly. Her hands wandered all over your naked torso, caressing your skin gently, or twisting your nipples cruelly. You gasped into her mouth, letting her slip her tongue deeper into your mouth.

You tried to pull her closer, but she promptly removed your wandering hands. She nipped and sucked along your jaw as you released a whine.

“Yeah? You like it when I kiss you there?”

Her lips wrapped around your sensitive pulse and you mewled pathetically. You tried to tug her hands down to where you needed her, but Frido grabbed your wrists in an iron grip and pinned them by your head. You struggled and squirmed under her weight as she tightened her grip

‘No,’ She said sternly, ‘Stay.’

You whimpered at her tone, but obeyed her.

She yanked your shorts off, smirking broadly at your glistening folds. It was already dripping down onto the bed. Frido spread your legs open with her hands splayed against your thighs and blew on your pussy lightly, chuckling as your hips bucked.

“Hmm, someone liked that.” she teased. ‘‘You’re absolutely dripping, älskling.’ She cooed, running a long finger through your slick. ‘Is this all for me?’

‘Yes,’ you gasped, your back arching as she applied a little pleasure onto your aching clit.

‘Did I get you so horny and desperate?’ Frido rubbed your clit gently, ignoring your cries of pleasure. ‘Poor thing, you must have been so wet and helpless all day, with no one to fill up this pretty pussy.’

‘Y-yes! Yes, like that!’ You moaned, as she touched you exactly how you wanted. You fisted the sheets tightly, hips bucking wildly into her touch. You could already feel the knot in your stomach start to tighten.

She slipped a finger into you without warning. Your back almost arched just from the relief of having your girlfriend’s fingers filling you up. She thrusted gently, and slipped another finger in you. Stroking your clit with her thumbs, her fingers curled into all the right spots, over and over again, until your legs started to clench You swore you were seeing stars. You just needed a little more-

Then, just like that, it was gone. Frido pulled away from you entirely, sucking on the taste of you on her fingers, leaving you panting and confused.

‘No!’ You whined, ‘Why’d you stop, come back!’

You closed your legs as you observed her clicking her tongue while rummaging around the drawers, still clothed. The thought that you were naked, exposed on the bed when she wasn’t had you feeling so vulnerable. The feeling of being so powerless, so owned, had your head spinning.

‘You know better than to think I’d just let you come so easily, älskling.’ She came back, holding a large strap-on in her hands. ‘Especially when you’ve been such a brat.’

Frido caressed your face with her knuckles.

‘You’ll take it how I give it to you. Understood?’

‘Y-yes.’

She hovered over you, frowning at your shut legs. Glancing up to look at you, she raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow up at you.

“Älskling,” she warned, “Spread your legs. I won’t ask again.”

You slowly opened your legs, exposing your slick to her once again. She smiled fondly at you.

“There we go.” She cooed, “So much better now, no? Now all you need to do is lay there and let me fuck you.”

Frudi pressed the head against your entrance, swiping up and down your folds before pressing in. You whimpered at the stretch, your smaller frame trembling in her arms, yours wrapping tightly around her back. This time, she let you pull her close.

“Shh, you can take it.” She whispered into your ear. “T-too much, too fast.” You cried into her neck, nuzzling for comfort as her cock spread your cunt open.

“You can take it.” She said firmly. “Weren’t you acting like a whore earlier? Bratting because you didn’t have enough cock in you?. No, you asked for it, and you’re going to take it.”

Frido started to thrust deeper and stronger, pulling pathetic moans from you. The pain and the pleasure molded together, tightening the knot in your stomach once again.

“Frido, baby!” You cried, going incoherent immediately after as her thrusts got rougher. She grunted softly, rutting harder into you at the sound of your sweet voice crying her name.

“Like that?” She said in your ear, biting your earlobe sharply, rolling your clit between her fingers. “You like when I fuck this pussy?”

“Y-yes!” You moaned, “I love when you fuck me.”

“Mine.” She growled, thrusting particularly deep. “My pussy. All mine. Only I can touch it. Not anyone else. Certainly not little brats like you. You better remember that, Älskling.”

“All yours.” You breathed, burying your face into her shoulder. “Your pussy.” The coil in your gut tightened so much, your legs started to shake around her waist. “Baby, I’m going to come.” You whined.

“Beg,” She demanded, circling your clit rapidly.

“Please!” You cried immediately as you hurtled closer to the edge. “Baby, please, please let me come! Please, I need it!”

“More.”

“Please, Frido! You make me feel so good! Please let me come, my pussy is yours, you own it.”

“Come,” She ordered, rubbing your throbbing clit. You tipped over the edge immediately, moaning loudly as hot white pleasure rushed through your body. Frido continued to fuck you through your high, prolonging your pleasure.

As you began to come down from the sheer amount of pleasure you felt, you realized Frido hadn’t slowed down her thrusts. Hips, jumping in sensitivity, you tried to bat away the hand that was still stroking your clit, just to find your hands yanked up and pinned down under a single iron grip.

You cried in sensitivity. “Frido, I can’t, it’s too much!” You squirmed uncomfortably under her, desperate to get away from her overwhelming touch.

“Does it hurt? Good.”

“Frido, please! I can’t!”

“You can and you will take it.” Frido hissed. “Weren’t you begging to come earlier? You were such a whore today, acting like a brat. Don’t worry though. I’ll be sure to keep filling this tight cunt, make sure you don’t feel needy anytime soon. I’ll fuck your attitude right out of you, Älskling.”

Before you knew it, you were coming again, screaming her name, your body spasming and bucking violently under her. Your vision went white as you clenched tightly around Frido. She stroked your back and slowed down her thrusts. You gasped for breath, still tightly wrapped around her.

Only when the strap shifted uncomfortably inside you did you unlatch yourself from Frido, pushing weakly at her. She slipped out of you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“You did so well, Älskling, letting me take care if you like that.”

“So good, baby.” You breathed. You shifted, then hissed in sensitivity at the movement.

“Maybe you’ll think of that next time you decide to act out, hm?” She chuckled, stroking your face.

“Rest up now, Älskling. We aren’t even close to done.”

#fridolina rolfo x reader #fridolina rolfö #woso x reader #woso community #woso fanfics #woso smut

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maxsimagination · 2 days

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𝙘𝙤𝙖𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙨' 𝙙𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙚𝙧 - 𝙥.𝙗𝙪𝙚𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙧𝙨

warnings: little suggestive? fluff

a/n: r is geno’s daughter, i know he’s like 70 but for the sake of the story let’s pretend that he has a younger daughter (26)

-> also, part 2? if anyone’s interested.

------

coming home had never felt better.

after two years studying abroad in spain, i was finally back home. i could see my family again, my dad again. he had no clue i was coming back now, he thought i was still overseas and he wouldn’t see me for another month.

i knew he was at uconn, i was studying my degree there and he was the women’s basketball coach. so i thought the best way to surprise him would be to show up at one of his practices. mom had given me the times of his practices, with the promise of making someone record his reaction to seeing me back for the first time.

i walk down to the gymnasium, hearing the light sounds of shoes squeaking from running on the court.

the doors to the arena are open, i walk in and the first thing i spot is my dad, his back to me and yelling instructions to a team of really tall girls.

the second thing i see is a six foot, hot, blonde woman. i knew who she was, paige bueckers is unmissable. and she was staring directly at me.

instead of approaching either of the two, i decide to sit on the bleachers for a bit and observe the practice. since i was in the states for my last year of studies, i might have to start coming to more of dad’s practices.

to spend time with him of course, and definitely not to see paige.

geno shouts at the players to take a water break and next thing i know, paige is walking straight at me.

“hey.”

“hi.”

i don’t know what else to say, it’s the paige bueckers talking to me.

“i haven’t seen you around here before, what’s your name?”

“i’m yn.”

“nice to meet you, i’m paige.”

“you looked good out there, paige”

the taller girl grinned down at me, and we got to taking for a bit. that was before geno called them all back from their break. paige left me with a wink and a promise to come speak again after practice. i held her to that and waited until they were finished before standing up.

my dad was yet to realise that i’d been here the whole time, and i was waiting for the right time.

when he told all the girls he’d see them tomorrow for practice again, i started walking towards him.

“hey dad.”

he whipped around at my voice and his eyes landed on me. i stood there grinning, waiting for him to say something. there were multiple players watching on, including paige, who didn’t know that i was their coaches’ daughter.

“yn, you’re back?”

“i’m back, dad.”

he didn’t say anything back, just swept me up in a giant hug.

i hugged him back as much as i could, even though he was taller than me by quite a bit. you’d think that being the daughter of tall parents would mean passing down the tall genes, but apparently my siblings took them all. so i was left to stand at only five-foot-eight.

that meant that almost the entire women’s basketball team towered over me. speaking of, when geno finally put me down, the first person i turned to was paige who stood directly behind me the whole time.

“surprise.”

i grinned up at her, and tried to hold back my laughter at her shocked expression.

“damn, coaches’ daughter? i guess i can’t take you out on a date now.”

she feigns sadness and i laugh out loud.

“what can i say, rules are meant to be broken.”

her faux sadness turned into a wolfish grin.

“i always was more of a rule breaker.”

i grabbed my phone out of my pocket then, pulling up a fresh contact.

“put your number in. i’ll text you.”

paige didn’t hesitate to type in her contact, handing my phone back to me in record time.

“i’ll look forward to it, pretty girl.”

i could feel my cheeks blush at the pet name, before i gave a small wave and followed my dad over to where he was just finishing gathering his things and leaving.

it was later that afternoon when i decided to bite the bullet and send paige a message.

to: paige

hey it’s yn, i’m free this friday if you are?

i didn’t expect a reply back so quickly but within the minute, my phone had vibrated multiple times.

from: paige

hey pretty girl

i’ve got practice @ 10, but we could go for a late lunch if that’s okay with you?

to: paige

sounds good, i’ll see you then ;)

never in my life did i think i’d be going on a date with the paige bueckers.

#wbb #uconn huskies #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader

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hoe4sports · 2 days

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“All this time I’ve wasted”

Alexia Putellas x reader

A/N: This is the third part of the series based off of Myles Smith’s song “Stargazing”. Triggers involves swearing and depressive thoughts. And some head smacking. P1 can be found here

«And with that, it sums up the terms and conditions of this contract. Any questions, concerns or requests?” That were the final words of Brann’s sports manager. You smiled politely as your manager was asking questions regarding loans, termination and renewal of contracts. It was tiring, the situation with Alexia made every cell in your body tense up. It filled your heart with rage and hatred. Yet, you couldn’t help but love her. After your argument, you hadn’t spoken to her again. Always finding another partner during practice, always sitting with someone else at lunch and pretending to fall asleep on flights and on buses. All to avoid your bestfriend, Alexia. You see, she meant the world to you and she had done that for over 20 years. Somehow the bricks of your house had gotten torn apart violently similar to how a tornado tears apart states. That was why you had talked to your manager about being interested in a transfer, and on the world of football; money talks. A transfer meant more money for him. The process of discussing the contract was excruciating. It made your feel at conflict, like you had a big gaping hole in your heart that you couldn’t close up even though your blood was pouring out on the floor. The team didn’t know that the contract was in discussion, they didn’t know how you had practically begged the Barcelona sports manager to terminate your contract or to sell you. The feeling of betrayal was eating you alive, and it was about to get a whole lot worse.

The following Monday, you woke up to a million notifications on your phone. It felt like it was about to blow up next to your bed causing you to violently be ripped out of the comfort of your dreams. The contract discussed had leaked. You threw yourself backwards and covered your face with a pillow. This was not how you wanted things to play out. Your first feeling was anger, followed by anxiety and then relief. Anger because someone had leaked your secrets. Anxiety because the team were going to be furious with you. And relieved because you didn’t have to tell the team yourself, you didn’t even have to bring up the subject because if you really knew your team, you knew that someone would take it upon themselves to bring it up.

You sat outside the grand arena debating whether to walk in or not. Barcelona was your legacy and it wrecked every part of you to leave it all behind. It wasn’t like you were going on a loan or to a club in Spain; you were going to Norway. More specifically, to Brann. The club that you played a few months prior in championship league. You had originally had offers from Germany, but Germany felt overwhelming. That’s why when your manager told you about a possible deal with Brann, you wanted to feel ecstatic. It would be close to multiple of your friends; Aurora Mikalsen whom you knew from before, Frido that grew up in Sweden, Ingrid and Caro that grew up in Norway. You didn’t really have anything against Norway, and perhaps Norway was what you needed. However, the feeling of ecstasy never came around, and it made you feel like you were walking around in an empty shell. The shell of what once were your passionate, joyful, sunshine self had now been replaced with guilt, sadness and despair.

08:45, 15 minutes was all you had to mentally pull yourself together enough to not fall apart inside practice. You traced the roughness of the leather on your steering wheel with your fingertips. Another thing that needed to be added onto your to do list before a potential move to Norway. The heart in your chest felt like it was about to burst out of you. It still felt like your heart was about to drown, like it needed cpr for you to make it through the day. It felt like Alexia had lured you into a dark alley and pushed you into a deep hole in the concrete making you fall into the never ending darkness.

08:48.Your brain was so caught up within its own whirlwind of chaotic thoughts that you didn’t notice Ingrid standing outside of your car, patiently waiting for you in the pouring rain. Ingrid tapped the window and you opened the door. “Hey, are you coming in?” the Norwegian said with her usual cheery voice and her perfect smile. Her smile was so perfect it hurt, she was so perfect. God, if you were like Ingrid then maybe Alexia would like you. Ingrid was so kind, so bright and so compassionate. She was one of your closest friends, yet you couldn’t bare to load all your heavy rocks into her backpack. “Just go ahead, I’m coming soon” you mumbled hoping to get Ingrid to move along with any fuss. Ingrid took notice of your frown and raised an eyebrow. “Are you okay?” Your tears immediately came pressing into the premises of your eyes making your eyes burn as if they had been infested with chili. The pressing caused you to rub your eyes intensely, not noticing that Ingrid had walked around and hopped into the passenger seat of your car until her hand touched your thigh. You looked at her while tears were streaming down your face. “Are you really leaving?” You nodded. “Brann». Ingrid’s eyes widened. “Norway? But, why Norway?” She asked with furrowed brows. Norway wasn’t really a country where female football was at its most popular. You didn’t really know why, it was the only team that had decided to take the offer for you. None of the bigger leagues had teams that wanted you. Perhaps that was all you were. Unwanted. Your mother had disowned you after your father had passed away in a horrible accident as she took to the bottle to avoid her emotions. Alexia and her family had been your family. That was also about to be ripped away from you. You had no siblings, your parents didn’t have siblings and all your grandparents had passed. You felt like you were all alone in this big world where you had no purpose but to chase after a ball. Your eyes met Ingrid’s blue eyes. Her eyes were so intense, so bright. She was skilful, a natural, a force of nature. But you were just there. Always on the bench until some new exciting player came along and then you’d be benched from the bench for months on end. Never making any rosters. Never given the chance. Never noticed. The chain of thoughts were broken by Ingrid leaning forward to shake you gently. “Yes, Norway. I guess I’ve always wanted to see the mountains.” That was a lie. “Norway is so pretty, and I would love to learn another language.” Another like. “I really think this could be a good opportunity for me”. Third and last lie.

08.50: Ingrid reluctantly seemed to accept the lies as she nodded and summed up something about meeting you inside afterwards. You had just given her a hum in respons concealing your spinning thoughts. Your thoughts were spinning in a way that they hadn’t before and the voice in your head wouldn’t shut up. It felt like the world was wrapping you in a weighted blanket only to try to strangle you. It felt like you couldn’t catch your breath. Like someone had put your car into a never ending rollercoaster. A tiny drop of sweat onto the tip of your nose snapped you out of it. You rubbed your eyes hard. Just hard enough to have fuzzy vision and to see starts. You wiped your hands onto your shorts. The teardrops on the windows were rolling down and the thunder was not many seconds behind. The atmosphere was dark as the clouds covered the usually blue sky. The weather felt like a metaphor for your fucked up emotions. The things you would do to

08:58. Two minutes was all that was left before practice. Before another day of facing the love of your life that didn’t feel the same towards you. The love of your life huh. Football or the woman you now could stare into the eyes of without feeling the crumbs of what once was the silver lining of your soul? You closed your eyes for the last time as you took yet a deep breath in desperation of its effect. Your hand grabbed the hinge of the door and you hopped out as you slowly walked towards the arena and your warderobe.

09.03: You ran out to the field with the fabric of your cleats clinging to your grilling socks. The other girls stood outside listening to the coach all dressed in their raincoats. You didn’t bother with the jacket, and ran out in just shorts and your half zip sweater instantly feeling the familiarity of coldness as the rain poured down around you. The other girls stared at you as you slumped next to the group, and at the corner of your eye; if you just looked far enough, there was Alexia. Focused as always, always sharp, always prepared, always perfect.

14.47: The day had just ended, and you had spent hours in overdrive trying to keep Alexia at distance while still pretending to be nice. It was all becoming too much. The gush of the reality showered over you like a semi truck while you plopped down on the bench after the other girls had finished showering and left for the day. You were shivering from the rain and the cold. It was the kind of cold that you felt deep inside your bones. The kind of cold that leaves you shaking uncontrollably for hours upon hours on end. The back of your head was leaning on the locker as you shut your eyes. The thoughts were so loud. They were occupying every inch of your brain. The infectious sadness and conflict rained upon you like there was no tomorrow. God, you hated this. The position you had gotten yourself in. The position that you had forced yourself in based off of an imaginary thought that you could have what you had wanted all your life. What had always been within reach, but yet so far away that you were longing for it. You smacked the back of your head in your locker as your phone started buzzing. Upon closer inspection, it was your agent. He expected a decision from you. A all clear. A positive feedback. It was exhausting trying to make a decision. Your phone felt like it weighed 3000 pounds. Your hand grabbed your phone as your agent’s name lit up your screen. You took a deep breath before answering.

“Hello”

“Hello Miss Y/L/N. How are you?”

“I’m fine, how are you?”

“I’m well! Now, I would’ve been even better if I heard your decision. Have you made up your mind?”

“…”

“Y/N?”

“Oh, yea yea. Bad service. I.. I uhh..”

“Well?”

Your heart rate skyrocketed. You could heart your heartbeats in your ears. Like all the blood was rushing straight through your ear canals. You swallowed nervously. This could change everything. It could give you a new start. A new shot a professional life. But it could ruin everything you ever had. Or didn’t have.

“..Yes. I’ll sign”

“That’s amazing! I’ll let Brann know. Expect a call from me later so we can talk arrangements. Congratulations Y/N, take care!”

*Call ended*

You looked down at your phone. Your head was spinning. You felt dizzy.

“So, it’s true Y/N/N, you are really leaving?”

You looked up with glossy eyes. It was Alexia. Alexia with a sad grin. Tired eyes. Eyes with tears in them. God, you thought to yourself. What have you done.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas

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radioactiveparker · 2 days

Text

A Proposition To Make Amends - Steddie X Fem!Reader (Smut)

Summary - Your boyfriend Steve does whatever it takes for you to get along with his best friend.

Warnings - Strong Language / Use of Y/N / Alcohol / Mentions of Drunk Driving / Threesome / Rough / Unprotected Sex / Spanking / Dry Humping / Riding / Daddy Kink / Praise Kink / Spitting / Choking / Oral (M & F Receiving) / Spit Roasting / Multiple Orgasms / Multiple Creampies / Cum Play / Cum Eating / Subspace

Word Count - 5.6k

A/N - Inspired by that one audio I was never able to find again :'(

~~~~~

You hid your fatigue behind a big cheesy smile as you and Steve bid the last of your guests goodbye and good night, waving at them from the front door of your home as they drove off down the road. The second the door shut, you relaxed your sore cheeks with a liberated sigh. Steve chuckled, pulling you in for a much needed hug. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in as close as he could. You pressed your lips to his out of habit.

Despite the many years that you and Steve had been together, you still got butterflies every time you kissed. It was like there was a button on your lips that only Steve could activate that shot a rush of adrenaline through your body. It was only meant to be a quick peck on the lips, but you couldn't seem to pull away. Your lips melded together like fluffy marshmallows in a freshly brewed hot chocolate. His tongue was warm sugar, sweet and addicting, making your eyes roll back under closed lids. You moaned gently into his mouth, clasping your hands behind his neck and playing with his soft hair. It was his turn to moan when you gave it a gentle tug, feeling his half hard on beginning to grow against your hip.

"Am I interrupting something?"

The two of you pulled back abruptly. Eddie stood before you, trying to take another sip of his beer through a smirk. In all honesty, you thought that Eddie had left already, but perhaps that was just wishful thinking. You were ready to kick him out so that you and Steve could continue where you had left off.

"Yes, you are." You snapped bitterly.

"You leaving?" Steve asked, clasping his hand in Eddie's and giving him a side hug.

"Yeah, the boys want to get band practice in early tomorrow."

"Good luck with it, man." Steve patted him on the back and opened the door for him. He froze when he noticed Eddie's van in the driveway. "Wait, you're not driving, are you?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Dude, you've been drinking."

"Only like three beers." Eddie brushed him off, using a strong arm to push his empty beer bottle into Steve's hand. "I'll be fine it's like a ten minute drive."

"No way, man. I'm not having you driving under the influence. Why don't you just stay the night?"

You diverted your gaze from Eddie's arms, suddenly catching yourself staring at his muscles in his tank top. "Or he could just call a cab?" You chimed in. The last thing you wanted right now was Eddie here. Especially when Steve had got you all hot and bothered.

"He's got no chance of getting a cab this late. C'mon babe, it's just one night."

But it wasn't just one night. You couldn't seem to get rid of Eddie lately. He was always hanging out at your place or asking Steve to go down to the Hideout to watch his band play (which he would always drag you along to despite your protests) or calling him up to talk for hours. You knew they were best friends, but you didn't even see your girl-friends that much. If it was anyone else, you probably wouldn't have minded. But Eddie annoyed you to no end. He was always loud and such a slob, always talking about the girls he's hooked up with and the music that nobody but him liked. You honestly didn't know how Steve could stand the guy.

"But Steve..." You tried to tell him through your eyes the words you couldn't say out loud. Not with Eddie there.

I want you to dick me down until I can't walk.

"Please babe," he clearly didn't get the message, "for me?"

He could be so oblivious when he wanted to be.

You rolled your eyes with a reluctant sigh, not being able to resist his big brown puppy dog eyes. "Fine, but he's taking the couch."

He shut the door and grabbed your face to force you into an appreciative kiss that went straight to your core. You loved it when he got rough.

"No man, really, it's fine." Eddie tried to persuade. "I can drive."

The truth was, Eddie didn't like you either. He had been friends with Steve first, but then you came along and ruined what they had going. Suddenly Steve was too busy to go to Hellfire night, he couldn't watch his band practice. Heck, he couldn't even make the time to go get ice cream together. And you were far too clingy. Every time he invited just Steve to the hideout, you were always there with him to ruin Eddie's mood. And always wearing those skimpy little outfits that left nothing to the imagination.

Not that he was imagining you.

"No, Eddie, you heard the lady, you're staying." Steve guided Eddie back into the house.

He turned to you, trying not to smile at how cute you looked when you were annoyed and pressed a loving kiss to your lips in an attempt to subdue it. "Why don't you go get changed while me and Eddie clear this mess up."

You agreed, only if it meant that you got another kiss from him. He chuckled against your lips before giving your ass a playful smack when you turned and headed for the bedroom.

"Is that why you wanted me to stay? So I could help you clean up?" Eddie teased walking through your open plan living room and into the kitchen to grab a garbage bag.

Steve held his hands up in defence. "You got me, man."

They shared a laugh before beginning to clean. You and Steve had planned a little get-together for all of your friends. You found it so hard nowadays to all be together like you used to, so everyone managed to free up a weekend and spend it together. Even the kids had managed to come down from college to see you. It was one of the best nights you had had in a while, catching up, eating pizza, drinking beer, and watching movies. It had felt like nothing had changed.

You managed to reminisce about the night as you swapped your party clothes for your pyjamas. With the summer heat easing its way in, it was difficult to wear anything more than a pair of shorts and a tank top. You even had to ditch the bra because the heat was making you itch.

You grabbed your used clothes and made your way downstairs to put them in the laundry room, deciding to do the washing tomorrow. With an overheated sigh, you headed for the kitchen to find some way to cool off. You passed the boys on the way as they carefully deconstructed the beer bottle tower Dustin and Lucas had so proudly made.

Eddie watched you from the living room as you made your way to the fridge wearing the sluttiest pyjamas he had ever seen. The shorts barely covered your backside and the top was so tight that he could see your nipples through it when you opened the fridge.

You visibly relaxed from the coolness emanating from it, practically moaning in relief.

"You alright over there, babe?" Steve laughed, putting the final beer bottle in the bag.

"Yeah, you boys want a drink to cool down?"

With a small chorus of agreements, you grabbed three bottles from the back of the fridge, pressing one of them against your forehead as you walked into the living room. You placed the other two on the coffee table in front of Eddie and Steve. They sat on opposite ends of the couch, Steve with his feet kicked up on the table and Eddie with his muscular arms spread over the headrest, giving you no choice but to sit between them. You did not want to sit near Eddie.

Reluctantly you took the single seat on the side closest to Steve, curling your feet up and twisting the cap off your drink.

"Do we smell bad or something? What are you doing all the way over there, babe?" Steve joked, patting the spot on the sofa beside him.

You kept your eyes on the TV, not being able to look him in the eye when you lied to him. "No, it's just too hot to all be crowed on one sofa."

"Now I know from experience that it's never to hot for a cuddle."

You wanted to curse yourself for making up that stupid rule. Whether it was because of the hot weather, or a steamy bath, you always cuddled Steve. You didn't care that you were sticky and sweating, you just loved the feeling of Steve's arms wrapped around you.

"I'm sure Eddie won't mind. Right, Eddie?"

"Actually I wouldn't mind if she stayed over there." Eddie disregarded, taking a long swig of his beer.

He watched as you did the same. A droplet from your bottle splashed onto the soft flesh of your collar bone. He couldn't help but stare as it rolled steadily and slipped in between the valley of your breasts.

Steve stood from his seat on the couch, switched the TV off and stood in front of it so that he was the centre of attention. "Alright, what is up with you guys?"

You and Eddie stared at him blankly as he looked between the two of you, waiting expectantly for an answer.

"What do you mean?" Eddie asked dumbly. You had to fight against rolling your eyes at how obvious his tone was.

"Why are you guys so tense around each other all the time? Don't think I don't see the way you roll your eyes at each other, or the petty little argument you're always having. Why do you guys hate each other so much, huh?"

You sighed, sitting up straight and placing your beer on the coffee table. "It's not that I hate him, It's just that... it's like he's always there. And he's annoying."

"I'm not annoying." Eddie frowned, clearly offended.

"Yes you are, and you're such a slob. Every time you come over here I'm cleaning up after you."

Eddie scoffed in perplexity. He had literally just helped clean the living room for you. "Well, if I'm a slob, you're a slut."

"Excuse me?"

"Whoa man, that's too far."

"I mean, just look at her Steve. She's practically naked. She's always wearing skimpy fucking clothes. She's just begging for attention"

"Dude, you can't just hate someone because of what they wear-- don't you start laughing, Y/N."

"He's got no real reason to hate me." You snickered. "At least I said something."

"Can we just act like adults please?"

Eddie pouted. "I will if she will, but I wouldn't hold you're breath."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"Alright, guys stop!" Steve raised his voice. He had never spoken to you that way. You hated that it kind of turned you on. "What is it going to take for you to get over whatever rivalry you two have got going on, huh? A rage room? Therapy? Do you need to bang one out or something?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa."

"Absolutely not, besides he's one to talk. Calling me a slut? He's the one that's forever boasting about his hook ups."

"Hey, I don't boast, okay? And my sex life had nothing to do with you."

Steve began laughing in disbelief. "I can't believe that that is what this is about?"

"What what is about?"

"That you two need to just fuck already." Steve expressed like the brightest lightbulb was blazing over his head. "All this fighting because you two are attracted to each other."

"I am not attracted to him." You gasped. "Do you think I'm cheating on you?"

"What? No, babe I'm not accusing you of that. I'm just saying that I understand if you're attracted to him."

"Yeah, I'm not attracted to you're girlfriend, dude." Eddie flushed.

"I wouldn't blame you, man. I mean, look at her, she's hot." It was your turn to flush. "So how are we gonna do this then?"

"Do what?"

"Have you two get it out of your systems."

"Dude, I'm not fucking your girlfriend."

"At least we finally agree on something." You laughed. Never in your life did you think you would be saying that.

"Look, baby," Steve sat on the coffee table and took your hands in his, making you look him in the eye. "Eddie's my best friend, and you're my best girl. I don't want to see you fighting all the time. Please, just for me, just this once."

Those god damn puppy dog eyes. You couldn't believe that you were actually considering this. You shifted uncomfortably to ease the throbbing between your legs. It had been a while since You and Steve had had sex, especially with Eddie being around all the time. Your dry spell was making you feel like a bitch in heat, so desperate to feel something. Anything. You blamed your horniness for clouding your judgement.

You sighed in defeat. "Are you sure you're okay with this?"

"You have my blessing." His smile turned to a smirk, his tone lowered to the rasp he always used in the bedroom. "Besides, it could be kinda hot."

There it was again. That burning desire deep within your core. The feeling hadn't really gone away. You almost always had a smouldering passion for him, but he managed to reignite it with a snap of his fingers. Steve couldn't help but smile at the fucked out look on your face; eyelids heavy with desperation and lips parted, just begging for something to slip between them.

"You see that Eddie? She wants to fuck you."

Eddie couldn't stop the feeling stirring within him. The look on your face and the way your nipples perked through your shirt had him squeezing his legs together like a fucking teenager. Try as he may, he couldn't deny that you were hot.

"I swear to God Steve, If this is a fucking prank--"

"It's not." You assured him, standing from your seat and making yourself comfortable on his lap.

You straddled him, resting your hands on his shoulders before calling Steve to sit beside him. Eddie stared at you in confusion when you pulled Steve in for a kiss, suddenly feeling like a third wheel. He felt like a perv watching your tongues swirl along one another and the way you would suck on Steve's like it was a cock. Just when he was about to call it quits, you slowly began rolling your hips. Eddie couldn't help but groan at the sweet relief, resting his head on the back of the sofa and enjoying the view. You moaned as Eddie grew harder beneath you, giving you more friction on your aching clit. You pulled away from Steve, putting your full attention into grinding on Eddie.

"Fuck, that feels good."

"You wanna take your shirt off, baby? Show him those perfect tits?"

You nodded drunkenly, raising your arms above your head so Steve could pull your top off. Eddie groaned almost instantly at the sight of them. He cupped one tenderly, feeling the flesh burning beneath his touch. He sat forward pressing harsh kisses along your neck and traveling down until he reached your breast. He sucked your pebbled nipple into his mouth, lapping it up and teasing it with his teeth. You gasped at the feeling, even more so when Steve mirrored his actions, first painting hickeys along your neck until he popped your other nipple in his hot mouth. You cupped the back of both their heads, guiding them with your movements as you continued to rock your hips against Eddie's.

"Shit, I'm gonna need you to fuck me." Eddie strained with a bruising grip on your hips.

"You hear how desperate you've got him, baby?"

You moaned against Steve's lips again as he kissed you. Eddie paused your grinding so he could slip off his boxers and pants. His weeping cock sprang free, the tip crying in relief. You ogled at it's perfection. It was a similar size to Steve's (that's to say huge), but with much more girth. You worried for a moment that Eddie could ruin Steve for you, but your mouth was just filling with saliva staring at it. You needed it inside of you.

"Wow, look at that, baby." Steve cooed in your ear, standing behind you and kissing your neck. "Is that what you wanted, huh? You want Eddie's fat cock deep inside your sweet little pussy?"

"God, yes." You breathed.

"You gonna take those shorts off then? Show Eddie your pretty little cunt."

You expertly took your shorts and panties off while still remaining in Eddies lap, having had lots of practice with Steve. With your pussy free from it's confinements, it was free to drool all over Eddies cock. You swiped your folds along his shaft, spreading your juices so you were ready to take him.

You twisted your neck to look at Steve. "Will you help me, daddy?"

His eyes rolled into his skull at the name. "Of course I can, baby. Ready?"

You lined the tip of Eddie's cock to your entrance, letting Steve guide your hips with his hands. He manoeuvred your hips downward, letting Eddie's cock ease into you. You gasped at the intrusion, finding yourself falling forwards. You grasped the head rest of the sofa, your face falling within kissing distance of Eddie's. You moaned and grunted into each others mouths, lips barely brushing and sharing breath as Steve continued to assist you onto Eddie's length. It took you a moment to adjust to his ridiculous size, Steve giving you a gentle squeeze of encouragement.

"C'mon baby, you've still got a few more inches left. Be a good girl and show Eddie how well you can take him."

You were already creaming all over him, your juices dripping down his length and pearling along his balls. Steve watched as your pussy struggled to swallow him whole, his cock just about ready to burst out of his jeans at the sound of your moans. He unbuttoned them and shoved them down to the top of his thighs, just enough to release his own throbbing cock.

"There we go." He spurred you on with gentle kisses to your shoulder as he fisted his own cock. "That's my good girl."

You whimpered at the praise, struggling to even clench around the thickness of Eddie's length. You gripped desperately at Eddie's top, tugging it over his head and pressing your chest against his to feel his hot skin on yours. You sucked gently along his neck, blindly reaching behind you to yank on Steve's shirt for him to do the same. He practically ripped it off himself before pressing his body against yours, sandwiching you between them. You sighed at his familiar warmth and the feeling of his hard cock on your back. Goose bumps prickled your skin as he danced his fingers down your sides until he reached your hips and then cupped the cheeks of your ass in his hands. He gave them a delicious squeeze before using them to guide you along Eddie's cock. Your hips lifted until just his tip was left dribbling into your cunt. You whined at the loss, resting your head on Eddie's shoulder and lapping your tongue in the crook of his neck. He let out one of the hottest moans you had ever heard when Steve forced you downward, your pussy devouring his cock whole. You practically sobbed when his blunt tip jabbed that swollen spot deep inside you. You breathed and gasped against Eddie's neck, cooling the wet spots of saliva on his skin and making him groan at the sensation.

Steve continued to guide you up and down. His own length nestled between the cheeks of your ass, your sweat and his leaking precum acting as lube, sliding his cock along the soft flesh. He pressed into you more, wedging his cock between your ass and his stomach for more friction. You moaned at the feeling of him humping your body to get off. Your juices were practically flooding out of you, causing wet slapping noises with every roll of your hips.

You wanted more.

You propped yourself up, coming face to face with Eddie and placed your hands on his shoulders. You started driving your hips faster, angling them to get his cock as deep as possible. You had Eddie and Steve moaning in each ear.

"God, you feel so good wrapped around my cock."

You wanted to tease him for complimenting you, but you were so drunk on his cock that you couldn't say anything more that a sensual whimper.

"You gonna say something nice back, baby?" Steve cooed in your ear, nibbling at the lobe before giving your ass a harsh smack. "You're supposed to be bonding, remember?"

You opened your mouth to say something, but you could do nothing but moan, your head rolling back onto Steve's shoulder in pleasure.

"His cock feels that good you can't even talk, huh?"

"Fuck. It's so good, daddy." You managed breathlessly.

He kept a palm on your ass, and snaked the other one up to wrap around your throat. He gave it a taunting squeeze as he pressed gentle kisses on your cheek until he reached your lips, forcing his tongue inside. It was so fucking messy. The angle made it awkward to capture his lips properly and your mixed saliva ended up pooling out of your mouth. It dribbled down your chin, dripping into the valley of your breasts. Eddie couldn't help but reach up a hand, collecting it and smearing it over your tits, giving them a delicious shine. The open air cooled it on your skin, making your nipples impossibly hard. The feeling of Eddie's rough hands grazing over your skin was slowly pushing you to the edge.

"Fuck! Eddie, I'm so close." You moaned like you were the star of your own porno.

"That's it, sweetheart. Cum on my cock."

"You hear that, baby?" Steve teased. "You've got him calling you sweetheart."

You moaned wildly as you bounced, desperate to feel your release wash over you. Steve's strong hands had you slamming onto Eddie's cock so rapidly that your shaking legs were struggling to keep up. Your pussy throbbed with the pounding of your heart, hungry for euphoria. With a few more guided thrusts, your orgasm spread across your entire body with searing pleasure. Your walls squeezed harshly around Eddies cock causing him to groan. You fell onto his chest, panting and shaking pathetically.

"Good fucking girl." Eddie growled in your ear. "You think you can take more?"

You nodded aimlessly, completely intoxicated by your orgasm. You couldn't prevent the whimper from escaping your lips when he pulled out, leaving you feeling completely empty. Eddie moved you onto the couch with his muscular arms, resting your upper body on the arm rest so you were on all fours for him. Your back arched in anticipation, your ass glistening with sweat and Steve's precum. He gave it a smack, causing you to moan.

In one swift motion, Eddie forced his cock back into your abused cunt, punching the air from your lungs. He slammed his hips into yours frantically, ramming his cock deep inside you at a much faster pace than you had ridden him. You were practically screaming, eyes rolling into your skull and mouth hung open in complete bliss.

Suddenly, you felt a hand gripping on your jaw and guiding you forwards. Steve stood in front of you, grasping the base of his cock and awaiting your eager mouth. You opened wider, lolling out your tongue. He placed the tip of his cock on the soft muscle, letting you lap at in like a lollipop and suckling it into your warm mouth. At the feeling of the soft walls of your cheeks, he released his hand and harshly thrust his cock all the way to the back of your throat. He groaned, stroking the top of your head until a vein bulged in your forehead. He reluctantly pulled back to allow you some oxygen. You coughed and spluttered for air, taking in a few lung-fulls to prepare yourself before his cock intruded your mouth again. You had had plenty of practice deep throating him that you hardly ever gagged anymore. But Eddie's constant thrusting had your body edging forwards, taking Steve's cock deeper and deeper until your throat was constricting around him. He moaned again at the tightness before placing both hands on the back of your head and pounding his hips into your face. You were moaning and crying around his length, high in ecstasy at the feeling of being taken from both ends at the same time.

"You can go harder than that, man. You're not gonna break her." Steve critiqued. "And spank her too, she likes it rough."

"Yeah, I can see that." Eddie laughed breathlessly.

His hips pistoned into you at a ridiculous pace and a large hand struck your ass. You gagged around Steve's cock at the sting, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. He did it again, leaving his mark on your other cheek before rubbing the skin tenderly. Your sensitive cunt was screaming at you to stop, but you were getting so close again. You murmured around Steve's length, trying to warn him of your oncoming orgasm.

"What was that, baby?" Steve teased. "I couldn't hear you over my cock."

You tried to repeat yourself, but Steve wrapped a hand around your throat, squeezing his cock through it so it was tight around his length. Your words were gargled and the vibrations shot along his shaft, making him grunt animalistically. You looked up at him through wet eyelashes, begging him to let you talk. He took pity on you, pulling his cock from the back of your throat and putting you out of your misery. You gasped for air.

"Fuck, I'm so close!" You're voice was hoarse. "Can I cum again, daddy?"

"I don't know, baby. You're gonna have to ask Eddie, he's the one who's gonna make you cum."

Never in your life did you think you would be begging Eddie for anything. You could practically hear him smirking behind you. Any other time you wouldn't dream of it, but right now you were desperate.

"Please can I cum, Eddie?"

"Fuck, you're so fucking hot." He slapped a hand on your ass again before reaching round to play with your clit. "Cum for me, sweetheart."

His callous fingers on your sensitive clit had you cumming almost instantly. You were glad that Eddie had his arm around your waist because you didn't think that you could hold yourself up on your shaking legs. Your entire body was humming in pleasure as Eddie continued the thrust into you. You moaned an 'ah, ah, ah' with every snap of his hips, your walls quivering around his length.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum, sweetheart. Where do you want it?"

"Inside. Cum inside me, Eddie. Fill me up."

His eyes squeezed tight and his hips began to lose their rhythm. Despite your overstimulated cunt, you threw your hips back to meet his thrust, sending him over the edge. His hands gripped your hips and impaled you on his cock, keeping you firmly in place. You pussy engulfed him completely until his balls were pressed against your clit. You could feel them tightening as he released his load deep inside you with a loud groan. He pressed a soft kiss to the centre of your back before slowly pulling out and falling back onto the couch. You followed suit, not being able to hold yourself up. You fell between his legs, resting your back on his heaving his chest.

"You think you got one more in you?" Steve's voice was soft as he climbed between your legs and pressed a persuasive kiss to your lips.

His cock stood tall, red and twitching, and dripping precum onto your stomach. Despite your reluctance, you could feel your mouth watering for him. Your body seemed to have a mind of its own. You nodded listlessly with heavy eyes and spread your legs wide for him.

Your cunt was swollen, dripping with Eddie's cum and eager to please. Steve's cock twitched in his hand as he scooped the still-warm cum onto his tip and shoved it all the way back into your pussy. You let out a quiet whimper at the sensation. Steve was definitely longer than Eddie. You could feel him much deeper, especially when he pressed a hand to your stomach, feeling himself inside of you with every thrust.

You were just completely lost in pleasure. Completely and utterly cock drunk.

Unexpectedly, feather light kisses trailed along your neck and calloused hands danced delicately over the soft skin of your arms until they met your tender breasts. You turned your head to look at Eddie. His eyelids hung low, chocolate irises staring longingly at your lips. You angled your neck upwards, meeting in the middle for your first kiss together. He delved in tongue first, massaging yours soothingly and humming at the softness of your lips. It was perfectly unrushed and gentle. The complete opposite of Steve's actions, who thrusted into you desperately trying to chase his high.

You were moaning into Eddie's mouth with every snap of Steve's hips as he shushed and cooed against your lips, telling you how good you were for them and goading you to cum again. The contrast in their actions was making your head spin. Your hands clasped over Eddie's that were continuing to knead your breasts. You guided his rough palms to squeeze gently and you nibbled his bottom lip at the feeling. You gasped loudly against Eddie's tongue at a particularly pleasurable thrust from Steve, his cock perfectly angled to plough deep inside you when he pressed your knees into your chest.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum, baby."

"Cum inside me, daddy. Give it to me, please."

He thrusted a few more times, his cock gliding effortlessly in a mix of your juices and Eddie's cum. The thought of that alone was enough to push him over the edge and he shot his load inside of you. You whined into Eddie, feeling utterly filled to the brim after being stuffed full twice. The second his softening cock slipped from inside of you, he ducked between your legs, gathering his spend and spreading it all over your swollen folds with his tongue. You hands immediately weaved themselves into his hair, pulling him closer as his tongue delved into your bullied hole. Eddie dragged his fingers along your spoilt clit, rubbing harsh circles until your legs started quivering around Steve's head. Your back peeled from Eddie's front as it arched. You struggled to catch your breath between your crescendoing moans. Your toes curled as you released a pleasurable cry to your final orgasm. Eddie stroked your hair and whispered praises in your ear as Steve continued to slurp at your pussy until you pushed him away.

He collected the mix of all your juices on his tongue before pressing his lips to yours, forcing the liquids between your lips and licking into your mouth to swirl the flavours onto your tongue. You moaned at the mix of sweet and salty. Resisting the urge to swallow, you pulled yourself from Steve before passing the mixture to Eddie. He took it from you eagerly, shoving his tongue as deep into your mouth as he could to savour every drop.

"That was so fucking hot." Eddie commended, finally relaxing properly into the sofa.

"Hey, good job, man." Steve complimented, throwing a friendly punch to his arm.

You could hardly hear any of it. Your ears were still ringing from your orgasm and your eyes were threatening to close, feeling completely absent from reality. Three sharp snaps of Steve's fingers had your bleary eyes opening.

"Are you still with us, baby?"

"Yes, daddy." Your voice was just above a whisper and laced with sleep.

"It's not daddy anymore, baby. It's Steve."

"Steve?"

"Yeah, that's it baby." He praised, gently stroking your cheek to ease you back into the real world. "Keep your eyes open, baby. I'm gonna get you a glass of water, okay?"

You nodded drowsily, your head lolling back onto Eddie's chest. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head when Steve was out of sight.

"You good, sweetheart? You have a good time?"

You nodded again, humming a soft 'mm hmm'.

"Well, I'm glad that we could resolve our differences." His laugh rumbled against your back.

Steve waltzed back, jeans hung loosely and unbuckled on his hips as he approached with two tall glasses of water. "Can you sit up for me, baby?"

You had barely any strength left in your body. Eddie had to sit you up with him, keeping you pressed against his chest. Steve handed him a glass of water. He brought it to your lips, the coolness of it hydrating your parched lips and dry mouth. You gulped it down greedily, nearly half the glass gone before you started feeling more awake. You finished the glass before using what little energy you had left to pry yourself from Eddie's sweaty skin and sat yourself properly on the couch between the two boys.

"We need to do that again." You exhaled with a chuckle.

"We can talk about that in the morning, sweetheart. For now, let's get you cleaned up."

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txttletale · 19 hours

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what are some things you like about fnv?

so much! i like the character writing, i think every companion is well-written and compelling--i like the extremely tight and overarching but (mostly) unforced focus on theme. 'let go, begin again' gets said verbatim maybe a bit too much in dead money but it's also the theme of all the other DLC and every individual companion quest and the most popular of the four main story paths and i think that kind of broad coherence really shines. i love the quest and world design, i love how many different skills will pop up in conversation because it lets you genuinely roleplay, getting the option to e.g. tell dog the cage must be locked from the inside or bypass difficult combat encounters because you have a high lockpicking skill makes you feel like your character is an expert lockpicker in a way that just being able to get optional loot sometimes just doesn't--i love how you will be directed to important or interesting locations from multiple quests, how all these places interconnect.

and i also deeply love how fnv's world is a world of history and people, not of facts and lore. you can kill caesar and kimball and their factions don't just explode without them--and you will hear multiple, contradictory takes from people in the world about how those deaths will impact those factions. if you kill caesar, house says it won't matter at all, boone says he has successors, ulysses and some NCR guys say it'll collapse the legion, and you never really get to know for sure. and so much about the world is like this, stuff you can get endless perspectives on and no single authoritative 'neutral' information. and in that line i love how the world is more than those people! how the world is much more than you., as impactful as the courier can be, the world reacting and moving and changing is prioritized over absolute player freedom to Experience Content--i love that, for instance, if you're vilified by the NCR before House gives you the quest to protect kimball, he just says "they're not going to let you get close to them, we'll just have to let him die" and then you can't do that quest and kimball dies! little shit like that makes new vegas' world feel real instead of warping around wikis and lore bibles and the protagonist.

so yeah i like a lot about fnv! i am a bit more vocal about my criticisms just bc quite frankly i think all of the things i like are things most people like and i see people saying basically all of this every time the game is brought up while i don't see people talk about the stuff i think is weird/bad as much. and i'm naturally inclinced to like, say whatever i think my more original trhoughts are so i'm not just adding to a chorus. but i do love fnv a lot

#ask #fnv

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fishnapple · 2 days

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CRYSTAL READING: How will you meet them ? Your first meeting with them (future spouse/lover/partner)

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Your feedback is much appreciated 🎐

Masterpost

Buy me a drink or book a reading with me - KO-FI (Read this post : personal reading)

1. Pyrite

Your energy: Crow Their energy: Starfish

The meeting:

Someone might come off as a little too strong for the other person.

On that day, you will find them very alluring and physically attractive. They could be hanging out with friends and somehow they will stand out from the rest and catch your eyes, maybe they are the center of attention at that moment, bantering, telling some jokes that crack up the crowd. You could catch their laughing voice first before seeing them.

Even though you will be the one that notice them first, they will be the one that do the approaching.

The situation seems not really casual as in a beach party or some bar, but more serious. Could be something related to work and finance, could be a bank or where there will be people from the higher up, a meeting for work, some convention, or a conference, but people will be able to talk freely. There could be lots of foreigners or it will happen at a foreign place, a foreign country.

You will be there to learn something and exchange ideas. To find opportunities for change, which could be related to your finances, this situation will open opportunities for you to secure your finances more, to give you more stability. This is where you have to express yourself, show your creativity, something about making yourself stand out more. You will feel nervous, wanting to look around for an anchor. Maybe that's why you will be attracted to your person's voice or laughter, it will show confidence and ease.

For the meeting, it will be unplanned, out of the blue. Maybe you see them one moment but won't pay too much attention. After you turn away and turn back, they won't be there at the same place anymore and will have moved to somewhere else. But then some moments later, you guys kind of bump into each other or will be in close proximity to each other.

There won't be enough time to prepare yourself, so you will just react with the most natural reaction for a surprise. When you see someone that you have noticed them before and now they are approaching you, maybe you would get a little self-conscious and try to prepare yourself ? That kind of thing, but in this situation, you won't be able to do that.

They may notice that you're a little tense and want to make a conversation to put you at ease. Could be saying something funny or offhand, some random stuff that may not be related to the situation.

There will be a hidden undercurrent of sexual attraction. On that day, you will be on high alert mode, and your intuition will be sharper than usual. You may have an inkling that this person will play some important role in your life, but you will be distrustful. You may find them to be superficial and shallow, vain even. They may boast a little about their achievements, perhaps. But you won't find their words completely tasteless. Some of those would make you smile and feel more comfortable.

After this meeting, there may be some time before another contact. This connection seems to have many moments of surprises and separations, likely from external factors. There could be space and distance between you guys. Sometimes, you will feel like this connection would go nowhere and fading, then some surprises will spring up, and you two will connect again.

I feel colder months for this first meeting.

2. Strawberry quartz

Your energy: Moth Their energy: Bat

The meeting:

I see a big question mark. You guys will feel confused why you are meeting this person, why here, why now, who are they. Something feels both heavy and light with this group. You could meet them somewhere of a serious nature.

The image on the card shows you (the moth) flying up while them (the bat) flying down. This meeting has a certain fateful element to it. Two creatures meeting each other on their journey, completely unaware of each other until that moment, the meeting makes no sense but also make the most sense ?

Your energy is light, you seem to not take life too seriously at that time, you want to try different things, meet different people, going here and there, quite flighty. You would be in a hurry when meeting them. Running to somewhere. Could be carrying something, then drop it. Your energy feels a little clumsy and impulsive.

The place will be someone's home or at a real estate agency. A garden, somewhere private, that place will be decorated beautifully, could be a wedding. There will be a performance there, or someone will do something that pull everyone's attention to them. I feel that person could be you. You may say or do something to entertain the guests, intentionally or unintentionally. Or you stumbled, and everyone gathered to help you. Asking if you're okay. But someone will be nagging or say some harsh words that make you feel uneasy a bit.

Your person will be standing from a far, looking at the commotion, they may be in the process of leaving that place then heard the noise and turned back. Maybe that will be the first time that they notice you. They would want to come forward to help.

Your person's energy feels a lot heavier. They seem to be coming out of the dark, in the process of moving on, or have just moved on from something, someone. They will feel a sudden urge to approach, like someone is standing behind them, nudging them forward. But they may have trouble approaching you because of all the people surrounding you at that time. So there will be some hesitation, should I, should I not. Just a note, your energy feels younger than them, younger than everyone around you at that time also, or just physically smaller.

You seem upset or hurt, so they will want to approach carefully, they will be subtle, not saying much. But this interaction with you will somehow make a shift in their mind, subconsciously. They may still find it hard to let go of past situations. I see someone walking away, and their mind still linger on that direction. But meeting you will jolt them out of that reminiscing mode. They will question their feelings and their fears. Subconsciously, they already wanted to move on, and meeting you will be the final push.

While you, on the other hand, don't seem to think too deeply about this meeting. You will think that they are a nice person, someone helpful. But you will feel a sense of familiarity with them. Maybe you guys have seen each other in dreams before. Some kind of psychic connection.

The meeting will be on a sunny day, warm, could be spring or summer. At the time of the meeting, you guys will be at a confusing point of your life. Both will have some confusion and feeling lost, something is missing. This meeting will be a wake-up call to both, to make you reassess your mindset, digging deep within. Like walking aimlessly in the sea of dark mist, then suddenly a light is shone brightly for you.

3. Red jasper

Your energy: Buffalo Their energy: Elk

The meeting:

This group seems to have heavy earth energy. Two stable and grounded individuals meeting each other. For some of you, you may already meet this person, for other of you who haven't met this person yet, the meeting will be completely unpredictable. The stone represents the Place flung so faraway, so you guys will likely meet at a very faraway place, far from your home, foreign countries, not a short travel, could even be a change of living place.

Your energy is stable, but the meeting itself is the complete opposite. Some elements of spontaneity and surprises are here. You won't get any head up for this meeting (does this reading count ?), no inkling, no intuitive hunch. Your intuition on that day may be even lower than normal.

It could be because of the foreign environment, you will feel ungrounded and worry a little more than usual. You haven't gotten used to the new place yet. I'm getting something about feeling hungry and going out to find a place to eat. To explore the environment more. Your usual daily routines will be disturbed, you will do things and go to places that you have never been to before. If normally, you are the kind of person to go to bed early, you will stay up late at that time, or you don't normally eat a certain kind of food but being there will make you want to try out different things.

The setting will be at night. You could be walking on the street at night, exploring here and there. I see an art museum or some kind or large, beautiful building. And you will meet them there. Their energy will be pretty similar to you, grounded and stable, but they seem to be more established than you. Could be because they are the native of that place. They will want to guide you, giving you helpful advice. You will find them to be very reliable. They could work at the museum or just go there at the same time as you, but they know the place better than you so they could even give you a tour around. You guys will be talking to each other along the way. Slow walk, a little pause here and there, they may be walking a little behind you.

You will find yourself being very open to this person, an immediate trust. You and them will talk about something profound, quite philosophical, could be related to the contents that you guys are watching. They will talk a little more than you, you will get to learn more about them and find out that they are someone pretty well respected in the community. They may appear a little stubborn. There could be a debate, but nothing too heated. This person is usually a lot more reserved, but on that day, when they are with you, they will be more willing to open up. You guys will both feel comfortable with each other.

At the end of the meeting, you will exchange contracts with each other. A chance meeting that will turn into something more serious.

Maybe, on that night, when you return to your bed, you will find it hard to sleep, thinking about what you have said, what they have said, or on the opposite end, you will sleep soundly, peacefully. The earlier anxious feeling will go away. You and them may mutually feel a certainty about this connection, a future. Something that you can build together.

4. Blue agate

Your energy: peacock Their energy: cosmic egg

The meeting:

This group feels very straightforward. To be honest, I'm not getting many situations for you guys.

By the time you meet them, both of you will be in a state of inner peace. You have found your own contentment after a long journey. You have come to the point of having a compassionate view for life despite all the hardships along the way. All of that comes from being self-aware. Some of you may have gone through a dark night of the soul before meeting this person. Or both of you. You and them mirror each other.

I see some place for a retreat and to relax.

Daily life would put stress on your mind, so you would suddenly get the idea of going away to relax and enjoy yourself. This could be your usual way to deal with stress. You seem to be pretty balanced, knowing when to stop and take a rest. Maybe some friends will invite you to go with them somewhere. You will feel the nudge to go.

The place will be different from your usual go-to place. Somewhere heavy with scents and drinks. Could be a fair, an event, a concert. You may even receive a psychic reading there, some element of spirituality. They will be there, could be the one doing the reading for you, or participate in a group activity with you.

Immediately you guys will talk to each other, you just clicked. At first, sharing your thoughts about the event or the place, then later on going to more personal topics. You will find the other person's view and opinions on things in life that are pretty similar or harmonious with yours. Even if there are some differences, you will be able to understand and accept them. You guys could talk about your past experiences, the journeys that you took, travelling, religion, childhood stories, words just flow.

Accompanying that feeling of compatibility with be a strong physical attraction. You light up the other person, passions are ignited. Later on that day, you guys could be intimate with each other. The connection would progress pretty fast. Could be a hook up at first that will later develop into something more committed.

This group is pretty short, nothing complicated. You have learnt your own individual lessons, now it's time to learn the new lessons together. You guys will have many spiritual journeys together, to feel the expansiveness of your spirit and discover love in the highest sense.

Love.

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togumie · 3 days

Text

“THAT WASN’T MY NAME.”

WINDBREAKER BOYS + SAYING THE WRONG NAME. ft. hayato suo, kaji ren, nirei akihiko, & sakura haruka x f!reader

content: explicit smut (18+), fellatio, overstim, choking, teasing, (kind of) brat taming, multiple rounds, mentions of creampies, usage of pet names, individual tags below.

mdni - 1.5K wc. filled request!

HAYATO SUO.

very mild brat taming, usage of pet names

“oh? that’s not like you, love.”

his gaze remains gentle, eyes intent on watching the way your cunt flutters so desperately around his length, your legs wrapped tightly around his hips to try and pull him deeper inside— but he doesn’t let you, of course.

suo has always been a tease. he likes to get you pent up like this, get you needy and frustrated until you’re clutching onto him and whining for him to stop and give you more, but he admits that he may have gone just a little bit too far today.

he’s brought you to the point where you’re moaning his friend’s name just to pull a reaction from him, and he knows painfully well that it’s your last resort at getting under his skin— because he knows your thought processes and tricks like the back of his hand.

so the fact that it actually worked is just that much more infuriating to him.

“thinking about someone else? how rude of you.”

the way your walls tighten around his length in response to his change in tone doesn’t go unnoticed by him, and you really couldn’t have been more obvious if you tried.

“ohh, i see,” he continues, pushing himself just an inch or two deeper- just enough to draw a lewd moan from you, “you just enjoy being put in your place, hmm? is that it?”

the way your eyes widen at such a suggestion is almost endearing, your head quickly shaking back and forth as you protest, blurting out a jumbled mix of “of course not” and “you’re just hot when you’re mad..”

absolutely anyone could read you like this, especially with the way you’re peering up at him so curiously through your lashes to gauge each and every reaction he might make. he already knows without you telling him that there’s nothing in that brain of yours besides your fantasy of him pounding into you at his full strength, maybe even pinning your wrists above your head while he’s at it.

“you really should have just asked me, love,” suo’s fingers wrap gently around your neck, a part of him content with the way you perk up in anticipation from something as little as that.

“..because i didn’t like that act of yours very much.”

he’s rutting into you once again before you even have time to think, angling himself to slam deep inside as your arms scramble to wrap around his shoulders, pulling him closer as you whine. you accidentally pull him deeper inside you like this, and suo fails to mask the way his face contorts at the sudden tightness.

“o-oh?” his voice holds an unfamiliar breathlessness to it, “i didn’t know you were so needy today.”

“ah— because it’s so deep!” you stammer, loud moans going straight through his ear. his unrelenting pace is so foreign to you, and you don’t know how he’s still so precise, aiming to pummel the exact spot that has you seeing stars the fastest- and you’re not sure if you can handle this much.

you let go of his shoulders, arms coming to shield your eyes as they roll back into your skull, your back arching in a futile attempt to escape the overstimulation.

“oh— no,” suo’s voice cuts through the air, “we won’t do that.”

he’s pinning your hands far above your head in one swift movement, frame towering over yours as he rolls his hips into you harder. “s-suo, it’s too much!” your words come out slurred, expression contorting with how quickly you’re approaching your high.

“this is just the beginning love. we’re gonna play out all those fantasies you’ve had tonight,” his grip around your wrists tighten slightly, “so no more running from it. okay?”

KAJI REN.

neck kisses, choking (barely), usage of pet names, jealousy?

“oh,” you turn your head to look up at your boyfriend when his thrusts come to a complete halt at the realization of what you just said, “i meant to say kaji.”

there’s an uncharacteristically long silence from your boyfriend, the only sound in the room being your giggle as you try and wiggle your ass against his hips to rile him up even more. “sorry,” your voice shifts to a stifled laugh, “don’t worry though, i was just kiddin-ah!”

you’re pulled up with ease when his hand wraps around your neck, guiding you back until you’re pressed flush against his strong chest, your head falling back to rest on his shoulder.

“think you’re funny, huh?” his thumb comes to roughly tilt your chin to the side, letting him grunt into the skin of your neck.

the new angle has you trembling, eyes widening with how much bigger he feels inside you like this. he’s stretching you out so much more than before, his fat tip nestled uncomfortably against your cervix as he holds you in place.

“real funny, princess,” you hear his click his tongue in annoyance.

the feeling of his breath fanning against your skin has your breath hitching in your throat moments after, his lips just barely ghosting over the sensitive skin of your neck. “got me reall good,” he repeats slowly, lips tantalizingly close to the smooth skin, “but i don’t wanna hear that guy’s name leaving your mouth again.”

“prank or not.”

it’s not like kaji isn’t aware of how silly he looks right now, jealous and angry over a minor prank like this one, but he can’t help it, not with the way the name rolled off your tongue in such a sickeningly sweet way.

he wants to hear you moan his name instead. wants to hear it again and again until he’s no longer green with jealousy.

a shiver of anticipation races through you when he starts trailing wet and sloppy kisses along your skin, each touch sending a wave of pleasure coursing straight into your core. he’s rough with it, a stark contrast to the way his finger is gently circling at your clit, just the way you like it.

“a-ah,” you moan when he starts sucking at the skin, inhaling sharply when he catches a faint whiff of your perfume. “k-kaji, that feels good.”

he almost groans at the sound of his name again. “again,” he growls, lips returning to give you another mark on the side of your neck, “say that again.”

you were his- his only, and he was gonna make sure everybody knew that by the end of tonight.

NIREI AKIHIKO.

mention of creampies

“s-sorry,” nirei mumbles, “that was a lot, huh?”

he watches with a heavy blush across his cheeks when your fingers come to collect the cum that he’s shot directly onto your tits, his cock throbbing when you slowly drag your tongue up your hand.

“it’s okay, sakura. oh— wrong name.”

he blinks a couple times before his heart sinks into his stomach. his first thought was that he just heard you wrong, but there was just no way that was possible.

“..sakura?”

his expression shifts from confusion to worry, then to a frustrated pout when you start laughing. “i’m just kidding!” you giggle, laugh trailing off to a concerned hum when his eyebrows stay deeply furrowed.

“oh? was that too mean, nirei?”

you watch him closely when his hands come to pull you by the waist, your own arms coming to wrap around him, but he doesn’t let you. “you know,” he starts, and he’s grabbing both of your wrists before pinning you beneath him, “i change my mind.”

your tits bounce a bit when your back hits the mattress, your chest still covered in his cum, and he wishes time could stop for a brief second so he could stare and admire you like this for just a little longer without looking like a total creep. it doesn’t help when you’re staring up at him like that too, your mouth still parted to pant lightly from the previous round.

you’re fucked out in the cutest way, and it’s enough to get him hard again.

“…about?” your words trail off with a hint of uncertainty under them.

“‘m not sorry,” he whispers, groaning when his overstimulated cock slaps against your folds. “not sorry at all anymore. gotta shoot it inside next, or this’ll keep bothering me.”

SAKURA HARUKA.

fellatio, teasing, his dick is sensitive <3

“h-huh..?”

your eyes flicker to the way the muscles of his abs flex when he abruptly sits up, deep blush across his cheeks as he watches you bob your head up and down his length in complete and utter disbelief.

“sorryy,” your voice is a soft and teasing whisper, and you give him that sugary-sweet smile that always kills him in an instant, “wrong name.”

an awfully casual mistake to make, he thinks.

sakura is absolutely dumbfounded, forcing himself to try and glare despite the way you have him breathless and trembling underneath your touch, but you’re resuming your movements only a second later, your tongue dragging up his length as if you didn’t just call him someone else’s fucking name just now.

“h-hey,” he can barely choke out a word with how good your lips feel around his dick, and he’s trying to reach forward and pull you off of him, struggling to blurt out a “s-stop that!”

but you’re suddenly taking him deeper, letting him in your throat until your nose pokes at his skin, and he groans loudly at the feeling of your throat around him.

“ah— shit..” his mouth falls open when you moan into him, vibrations of your voice forcing his hips to jerk up against you.

“you— you just…” he’s trying, trying so hard to get a word out, but you’re such a fucking tease. your head bobs up and down a little faster, tongue flattening to glide perfectly around his thickness, and the way his quads start trembling doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

he’s getting close.

the lewd ‘pop!’ your mouth makes when you let him go only deepens the furious blush across his cheeks, and he wishes he didn’t make the mistake of looking down and catching a glimpse of you rubbing his pre-cum off your bottom lip with your thumb.

“i was just kidding,” you smile when you notice his attention is back on you, even if it’s only for a brief moment before he’s tearing his gaze away, “but the face you made was real funny.”

his expression switches to an angry scowl— as angry as he could possibly look after you’ve reduced him to nothing but a panting, flustered mess beneath you. he’s gasping loudly as soon as your hands start to run up and down his thighs, fingertips pressing into him to get a better feel for his muscles.

it’s enough to kill him as is, but as soon as you start peppering his dick with kisses, he feels his patience crumble to nothing.

“enough,” his voice is just above a shaky growl, nails digging deeply into the armrests besides him, “needa be inside you— f-fuck. right now.”

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inevesgf · 2 days

Text

dating headcanons • formula one

request rules here.

formula one masterlist here.

summary → what dating some of the formula one drivers would be like and their love languages. includes verstappen, norris, sainz, leclerc, piastri, and ricciardo. female!reader x driver, gn!reader x driver.

authors note ꕤ missed doing little head canons so i decided to group them all together <3 hope u lot enjoy. definitely going to start writing more for f1!!! my apologies because i wrote a lot for some drivers and not that much for some of the others, oopsies..

MAX VERSTAPPEN … will try to seem like such a casual lover, but is probably secretly obsessed with you. loves having you at every race because you overall uplift his mood a lot. he’s usually a bit stressed before races, being a perfectionist, but having you there instantly calms him down. he tries his hardest to see you immediately after every race even though press and his crew always gets to him first. if he isn’t able to see you after the race, he spends the rest of the night keeping you by his side rather you guys are staying in or going out to party. even though he can be very busy, he always makes sure to set time aside to be with just you. if he ever so has to cancel on plans, he is always sure to make them up ten times better than they were originally supposed to be. i believe max’a love language is probably physical touch. after a rough day, he just likes to lay in bed or on the couch with you. lazy days in are something max enjoys a lot, especially considering he is almost always busy. like i said, he loves to cuddle and have nice, sweet, and deep conversations with you about life, racing, etc. he trusts you and basically only you wholeheartedly with a lot of information.

LANDO NORRIS … lando is probably one of the most loving boyfriends in the world. when having you at his races, he always claims you to be his ‘good luck charm’ and having you there overall raises his hope and confidence for the race. after making pole multiple times and winning in miami, he always makes sure to see you right after as he treats seeing you there as a special gift. when hes not home and isn’t able to see you, he surprises you with little gifts that he sends to you and even makes sure he can talk to you on the phone as much as possible. when he’s home, he plans special date nights that are just you two without any interruptions. he orders out takeaway sometimes just so you two can have alone time and snuggle up to watch a movie. lando also definitely loves to go out on fun dates including things like going on a drive with no destination, or roller skating even if he may be horrible at it. he loves to plan stupid, small dates that involve going on rides or even getting takeout and having a make shift picnic in your backyard. lando loves when you show interests in his hobbies as he shows interests in yours too. he’s down to watch any movie you like and participate in your hobbies because what makes you happy, makes him happy. when you show interest and racing and even suggest karting together, lando is is over the moon to share a piece of his interests and specialty with you. when out in public, he isn’t afraid to hold your hand and even give you a small kiss or hug when it’s appropriate. he always makes sure you are comfortable with his small acts of love and wants you to feel nothing but comfort in his presence. once again, lando is definitely another physical touch person as he likes to be as close to you as possible. when he isn’t able to be around you, he messages you sweet words of affirmation and gets the point across that he loves you so much no matter how far away or busy he is. he loves seeing you wear his close, especially anything that represents mclaren as he finds it so cute. lando lets you borrow some of his clothing while he is gone so that a piece of him is always with you.

CARLOS SAINZ … carlos is the kind of boyfriend you have absolutely wrapped around your finger. carlos is extremely loving, and no matter how busy he is, he will always shows his love for you. like the others, carlos loves having you at his races and cheering him on from the crowd. he loves knowing that you are there as it gives him more motivation to push as hard as he can at every race. there’s no doubt that carlos likes to let loose and party, but if he had to choose between that and spending time with you, he would spend time with you instead. after races, not depending on how good or bad they go for the driver, he likes to spend his time relaxing with you. carlos’ love language is the perfect combination between gift giving and physical touch. the driver also peppers you with kisses at the most random to show just how much he appreciates you. he loves to be near you and hold you, but he also spoils you with gifts from other countries he has gone too even if there wasn’t a special occasion while he was away. during the off season, he spends as much time as possible with you. carlos doesn’t care if the two of you are having a lazy day in or a big day out, he treats spending time with you as a special moment every time.

CHARLES LECLERC … charles is very confident in being in a relationship. he knows how to be a good boyfriend as well as the difference between right and wrong. he is very caring, but knows when to give you space and respects when you need it. charles enjoys spending time with you as it allows and appreciates that you two still have a loving relationship when he’s away. if you cannot attend races, he makes sure he can check up on you during the day and gets excited when you get the chance to watch his race form home. he appreciates receiving messages after races of you cheering him on as it goes on. accompanying this, charles main love language is definitely words of affirmation alongside physical touch. he loves to be near you and shows a lot of signs of casual intimacy as well as general intimacy. being away a lot, charles always makes sure to send you sweet messages that get the point across of how much he loves and cherishes being with you. he plans small little date nights that involve you two cuddled up playing a game together or watching a movie. charles prefers to stay inside for most date nights as he likes spending time with just you and only you in that moment.

OSCAR PIASTRI … oscar strikes me as the kind of boyfriend who goes with the flow. if you show interests in seeing a movie or going out to a place to eat, he plans dates revolving around the subject. much like lando, oscar likes whatever makes you happy. when you ask him what he would like to do, oscar is the kind of person to always say he wants to do what you want. you feel bad about it, but he always assures you that he just loves spending time with you. oscar’s love language is definitely words of affirmation and quality time. he constantly assures you how much he loves you and that time with you is like paradise to him, whether you overthink it or not. due to being away so often, oscar loves to do things that you like because he knows how long you have been waiting for that quality time. oscar will sometimes take lead as well and plan dates to show bits and pieces of his interests to you which ultimately strengthens your relationship and bond. after every race, oscar is always eager to message you or see you, knowing you two know how to hype each other up and calm each other down. his eyes light up whenever he sees you and it is always like he has fallen in love with you over and over again.

DANIEL RICCIARDO … daniel is a massive golden retriever boyfriend. he is a very “go-along-to-get-along” partner and is agreeable when planning dates amongst each other. he is very into the idea of planning dates and events that the two of you would mutually enjoy and that creates wonderful memories for the both of you. daniel is very open with your love and isn’t afraid to show affection. he is proud that you are his partner and flaunts you off to his friends, fans, and family by expressing how much he loves you. though you may not be able to see each other as often as you may see other people in your life, he is very optimistic about your relationship and makes sure you feel the same way about it. much like a golden retriever, daniel is very energetic when he is with you. he is always down for an adventure, no matter how ridiculous it may seem to be. your presence relaxes him as well, which is why he adores cuddling. daniel’s love language is the perfect mix between quality time, physical touch, and words of affirmation. he loves to spend time with you rather it’s going to hang out with friends, having a lazy day in, or a big night out between the two of you. he isn’t afraid of pda, but does not overdo it. he shows casual forms of intimacy in public by holding your hand and placing small kisses on your cheek or forehead. daniel always makes sure you know how much you mean to him and he appreciates the words of affirmation in return.

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callsignserpent · 3 days

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🇦🇹 König x Medic Reader Headcanons 🇦🇹

The whole ordeal was meant to start out innocently, believe it or not.

This giant boi had come walking into the medical bay after one particularly tough mission, sporting multiple lacerations across one arm and his face, along with a few bruises.

The way he'd sat there quietly as he waited for his turn, grumbling to himself in German, something about how he "doesn't need the hospital".

But when it was finally his turn and he'd seen you? Oh, this man was a goner, from the very beginning.

It was like a switch had been flicked, his whole demeanor changing in a snap.

Grumbling, stubborn 6'8" Austrian now becomes quiet, curiously observant patient.

"How did you get these?" you'd asked, gesturing to the cuts visible beneath the torn sections of his shirt.

"Die Mission verlief nicht gut", he'd simply responded in German, shrugging like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You'd been with KorTac long enough to have picked up several fluent phrases here and there, so you sort of understood him. Kind of.

You'd told him you needed to clean the cuts and bruises, and like a good soldier, he'd sat there and taken it, only wincing once, when you'd gone to clean the cut along the edge of his jawline, visible beneath the torn, ragged section of his sniper hood.

"Es tut mir Leid..." you'd hastily apologized.

The utter look of shock that passed over König's face when he heard you speak his native tongue-!

"Du sprichst Deutsch?" he'd grunted, trying not to crack a smile, to which you'd nodded and held up a finger and thumb inches apart, indicating you spoke just a little.

He'd seemed almost thoughtfully quiet after that, sitting and watching you as you worked.

Once you were done, König had seemed almost.. disappointed? ...that the time had gone by too quickly.

You'd dismissed him quietly with a gentle smile, telling him he was welcome back any time if he needed something.

And you better believe this man took those words to heart, quite literally.

Because not even three days later, he was back again, this time for just a small series of scrapes he'd sustained along the backs of his knuckles, presumably from a tussle with someone else.

"Ich würde den anderen Kerl ungern sehen, ja?" you'd joked in broken German, upon which König had accidentally cracked a grin beneath his hood, before he'd corrected himself.

"Your German is getting better, maus..." he'd answered, his tone unusually soft that day.

The answering blush in your face that little nickname had produced, that was a look König would picture several times in his head later that night.

From that point on, he would make it his mission to call you cute little nicknames like "maus", "liebling", "meine lieb"...

He'd also make it a point to try and find some excuse or another to see you throughout the week.

"Colonel, it's just mild allergies."

"Colonel, you're not bleeding, it's fine. Nein, you don't need stitches. Ja, I'm sure."

To which he'd insist "König. Und ja, it'll get better faster if you look at it, liebling, bitte?"

Everyone on KorTac's base eventually noticed how their Colonel had become a frequent flyer to the infirmary, their hushed whispers sometimes being overheard.

"Surely he can't be getting hurt that often?" "Is he clumsy, or is it on purpose?" "Maybe it's just bad luck...?"

Little did they all know, you were the real reason he kept showing up.

You yourself were sort of oblivious the first couple of times, until you eventually caught on.

König would even wait until your shift was done for the day, trying to appear casual as he leaned against the doorway to the infirmary, having to duck down a little due to his monstrous height.

Sometimes he'd bring you little gifts too, little things you could keep at your work station, or take back to barracks with you.

(The little stuffed brown bear dressed in a nurse's uniform was your pride and joy, always sat on display at your desk.)

On a more serious note, there was only ever one time he had scared the living shit out of you, when he had gotten really hurt.

A few of KorTac's best had been sent out on a mission, and König had been among them. When he'd gotten back, it was... bad.

You'd never seen so much blood in your life, and you weren't even sure half of it was actually his.

You'd spent that entire night (and the next) looking after him, surviving off coffee and pure adrenaline just to stay awake for him.

And when he'd finally opened his eyes a day later, even his badly torn sniper hood couldn't hide the soft grin that lit up this man's face.

"Mein liebling, sie sind hier?"

The light swat you'd given him, combined with the way your eyes shone with unshed tears, his gaze would soften so fast.

"I thought I was gonna lose you, Kö..."

"Nein, meine kleine maus, Ich würde dich zu sehr vermissen." came his gentle reply.

From that point on, the two of you were nearly inseparable; wherever you went, he would follow, and vice versa.

It would eventually reach the point where if anyone would try and mess with you, they'd very quickly be warned not to fuck with "the Colonel's girl".

You'd rather liked the sound of that, perhaps a little more than you should.

Being König's favorite person, that wasn't so bad.. right?

💀 TAGLIST: @nixwolfe @konigsbeloved @konigsblog @konigslittleliebling @kghostly @konigsqueen @konig-brain-rot @your-booklover-gal @konig-breedme @konig-is-bbygrl @koenigsbleachedshirt

#konig call of duty #konig x reader #konig cod #konig mw2 #kortac #cod mw2 #cod #call of duty #konig cod headcanons #konig headcanons #call of duty headcanons #konig fluff #konig x medic reader

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hgfictionwriter · 3 days

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Late Night Desires

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie and you wake up in the middle of the night and have a little fun together.

Warning: Smut. Strap sex, cockwarming.

A/N: I'm back! Happy to be posting again! Hope you enjoy the fic. Based on this request.

A frown crossed Jessie’s face as she was woken from her sleep by the gentle jostling of the bed. A lazy smiled formed on her lips as she felt you cuddle in and wrap an arm around her waist while tucking your head into her shoulder.

She opened her eyes. The bedroom was dark, still in the deep of night and leaving her momentarily disoriented while her mind caught up. Another frown crossed her face in realization. She didn't take off the strap after last night's activities. The last thing she recalled was both of you cuddling together - her still inside of you - after multiple rounds. She must've fallen asleep.

A shiver went through her as she felt your fingers slowly graze up and down her side. More goosebumps rose across her skin as you planted a soft, lingering kiss on her shoulder.

Jessie inhaled, shifting you both so you were on your sides and she was spooning you. She bit back a chuckle at how the strap poked you in the back. She reached down to remove the strap, but was stopped by you wordlessly halting her with your hand on hers.

A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth and she leaned down to lay a kiss on the back of your shoulder. She lifted your leg a bit and readjusted so the strap was settled between your legs, resting along the length of your core, but sure to not enter you. She wrapped an arm around your waist and smiled as you cuddled back into her. You lay peacefully in her arms, your hand resting on her forearm.

While Jessie was half asleep a minute ago, she was now wide awake.

She had training in the morning and you had work, so you should both really get some more sleep, but with you pressed up against her and her arms wrapped around you, the heat building between her legs wasn't going to allow that.

She couldn't help the way her hand began to graze along your stomach. She paused momentarily when your hand tightened on her, but when your thumb began to slowly caress her arm, she continued. She laid another soft kiss on your shoulder.

Eventually, Jessie's hand worked its way up your torso until she began cupping your breast. She noted the way you gently exhaled and pressed your body back into her subtly so. She tilted her head and kissed your back once more, leaving her lips there as she gently began to massage your breast, gauging your response.

Your head shifted slightly on the pillow and you began running your thumb along her forearm more firmly. Jessie gave your nipple a soft pinch, smiling at how your breath hitched, before she moved her hand to your other breast to repeat the actions.

In the silence of your room, Jessie was keenly aware of every reaction. She felt how your breathing deepened and every subtle movement.

You began to shift restlessly in her arms and she bit back a grin at how, most notably, your hips began to gently rock against her strap that was nestled between your legs.

Jessie pulled her hand away from your breasts - momentarily stalled by you gripping her and silently urging her to stay - to lay her hand flat on the front of your hips and hold you in place. A soft, but heavy exhale escaped you in place of a whine.

Jessie began to lay more slow, teasing kisses along your shoulder and along the nape of your neck. Any time you went to squirm, she held you firmly in place, eliciting another inaudible sigh of frustration from you.

Showing some mercy, Jessie began massaging your breasts again as she continued to tease you with more kisses. A smirk crossed her lips as your nails dug into her forearm.

As she kissed along the back of your neck, you brought a hand up, reaching behind to caress the back of her head. She paused a second, stiffening at your touch before pulling you tighter and kissing you deeper.

"Mm," you finally moaned, causing her to give your breast a particularly firm squeeze. In opposition to her earlier instructions, you rocked against her strap more fully than before. "Please, baby."

Her arm tightened around you, pulling you tight again and she gave you another kiss as she finally rolled her hips against you and giving you some of the relief you desperately wanted. Another short moan fell from your lips.

Jessie began to slowly roll her hips back and forth, drawing the strap through your wet folds and providing some much needed friction against your clit. You began to moan further and moved your hips in sync with hers, looking for more.

The teasing continued and you began to grow more desperate. She felt you try to angle yourself in a way so she would slip inside, but she didn't allow it, instead maintaining control and continuing to simply tease you with slow, measured movements.

You dug your fingers into her scalp and rocked yourself back against her as your needy moans filled the silence of the dark room. Your noises filled up Jessie's head and the ache between her legs was growing stronger by the moment.

She drew her hips back in such a way that when she pushed forward, she finally slipped inside of your tight core. A deep, heady moan escaped you as she finally filled you. She released a soft grunt in your ear.

While Jessie's earlier teasing strokes were slow and measured, she was now quickly picking up pace. You bent a leg up to give her more room to work, but soon she reached down and lifted your leg so she could thrust into your soaking tunnel with even greater ease.

Though the room had been more or less silent a few minutes prior, the sounds of your wanton moans and Jessie thrusting in and out of you now echoed off the walls.

As Jessie held your leg in place, she leaned back a bit to give herself more leverage and stability, rolling you both back a touch in the process. She wrapped her other arm around the front of your shoulders as you now lay back partially on top of her, legs spread as she fucked you firm and fast yet again that night.

Each thrust at this angle sent a pulse of pleasure radiating out through your body from your core. The way she was manhandling you right now as well sent your mind into an ecstasy-filled frenzy.

Jessie loved the way you were moaning and panting in her arms as she rut into you from behind. Knowing how confident and in charge you were in everyday life, most people probably assumed you called the shots in bed, but often it was really Jessie having her way with you and it drove her wild.

She heard your breathing quicken and the pitch of your moans rise. She tightened her grip on you and kissed along your ear.

She felt you tighten around her, almost affecting her strokes if she hadn't been anticipating it. A loud cry fell from your lips as you came while she plunged deep inside of you. You dug your nails into her arm and clung on tightly as she fucked you through your orgasm.

When your body grew slack, she rolled you both back fully onto your sides, lowering your leg and wrapping an arm around your waist once more. She held herself inside of you as you both panted, working to regain your breath.

She squeezed you tight and peppered your shoulder in light kisses. When you had enough strength you reached back once more and lazily ran your fingers through her hair.

You lay peacefully together, gently holding and caressing one another as you recovered. However, Jessie's hand began to wander once more.

Though she didn't move her hips, her fingers now traced along the hollow by your hip bones, moving downward until she was touch was feather light at juncture between your thigh and core.

You pushed your head back into her and she kissed your neck as she slipped her fingers through your lips and circled your clit. A renewed, soft moan bubbled up your throat.

Soon, her fingers began firmly rubbing your clit in a circular motion, pulling deeper moans out of you as she kissed and teased your neck.

Jessie's jaw fell slack as you subtly writhed in her arms. She pulled you closer with her other arm.

Though you rocked gently against her as she played with your clit, she held herself still inside of you. She wanted to keep you full and stretched out around her as she brought you towards another high under her fingers.

It wasn't long until you were faintly, but urgently, grinding yourself against her fingers, desperate to fall over the edge of another climax.

Jessie continued to rub your clit steadily and soon felt you stiffen and come undone in her arms. She hooked her chin over your shoulder, pulling you ever tighter against her as her name fell from your lips.

Both of you spent yet again, she held you in her arms as you recovered from another orgasm.

You both lay quietly together, bodies sweaty and hot, but neither of you wanting to be apart.

She felt your breathing even out and slow and she allowed her eyes to close as you rest in her embrace. She felt sleep starting to overtake her, but she managed to speak first.

"Is this going to be a thing? Me falling asleep inside of you?" She asked with a tired, but cheeky smirk on her face.

You pressed yourself back against her for good measure. "I love it."

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #canwnt x reader #smut fic #wlw smut

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tottentz · 6 hours

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𓂃 ¡ #KISS ME FROM THE RUSH ── honkai star rail ?! 🗯️‹3 𓂃 ˒ ʿʿ ❛ i can't get enough ❜ 🗝 ﹢を ˒ㅤ ft. aventurine, blade, dr. ratio, argenti, sunday, jing yuan.

ֶָ֢⊹𐙚 WARNINGS ! mdni. reader has no pronouns but has afab anatomy, soft dom ! character & inexperienced ! reader, dry humping / aventurine, praising, pet names, fingering / boothill + jing yuan, oral ( receiving ) / blade, blowjob + cum swallowing / dr. ratio, implied multiple orgasm + overstimulation, dacriphilia, lil of corruption kink ( if you squint ). ♡ˎˊ˗

mature content ahead ! + please take care of yourself before proceeding.

aventurine .ᐟ

slender fingertips dig into the excess squish of your hips, prompting you to wriggle your waist and forcibly slot your pelvis where aventurine ushers you atop his lap, bunching your skirt in his fidgety palms as you delectably initiate a merciless roll of your hips that had his cock straining against the crotch of his jeans and his own hips eagerly bucking upwards.

he devours you in his embrace, and presses a brief kiss to the corner of your mouth before swallowing every mewl-like cry that parts your lips.

the lengthening drag led your clit to the silver buckle of his belt; pulpous bud sinking against the metal and flattening whenever aventurine thrusted his hips and temporarily pinned the bundle, catching the sensory mound before it dislodged and continued its previous rut.

you hissed through your teeth, breaking away from his lips to speckle rosy contortions into his skin. aventurine impatiently rocks his hips as if a mutt graveling in his heat, stiffening cock occasionally bumping your clit before the imprint would card through your soiled unde, gliding trough the dampened fabric with a friction that could kindle fire.

"that's it, baby," he coos, "almost there..."

he sounds breathless as he speaks, body shuddering when you placed a hot palm to his nape, grounding yourself and forcing coarse friction where you straddled him, desperate to clash against his pants as if you'd soon wear the denim to nothing and leave him bare.

"see...now isn't that nice?" he breathlessly laughs, "you're doing so well..., does it feel good?"

his hips erratically jerk, and the breathless pants from his mouth divulged his own craving, lips blowing against your collar before biting his presence into your skin. he's just as far off as you. ruby red and temple coated with sweat, aventurine is flushed and trembling under your hold.

all he gets as a response is a pathetic whine, making him grin, "of course it does, sweetheart..." he so desperately wants to ravish what sensible though remained of your dizzying head; fuck you until you couldn't discern the hour of the day, but he refrained. not yet.

"that's it, sweetheart, that's it, cum for me. c'mon give it to me, show me how you pretty you are, yeah?."

and you do, you gasp and squeal when the high finally crashes over you. he slows his thrusts, barely letting you go before carefully pressing back in, working you diligently through the high s you tremble and cream all over his pants like the sweet thing you are.

blade .ᐟ

to his surprise, you don't yelp or squeak or become flustered when he occupied himself between your legs, only biting your lip as wild pulsations rendered your brain to mush and melted your forefront conscious into a haze of silver lining.

matching the complex twist of the interstate, your abdomen began to tie its knot of arousal and nervousness, your posture tensing into a deep arch that forced your head against the leather seat and a whimper to fall from your glossed lips, and before you could cover your face with your hands, dan heng quickly hold your wrists down again.

"don't." his voice is mereley above a whisper as erratic shivers shook your withering figure against the bed.

"you okay?" you choke intead a series of strangled moans following his order.

"i'm okay." he muses on that notion for a time, flicking his thumbs over your throbbing clit, the strokes stimulating the hardened bud that felt as if would burst in due time. nimbly dragging the anxious tips of your fingers between your legs. "it feels good?."

you sniffle and nod, "really good..."

he hums and leans down, kissing your clit for one fleeting second before his hands are on your knees, keeping them pinned to your chest while he sat between your thighs as he licks at you, tentatively until he hears you quietly moan. then he's lapping, eager, pressing his face firmer against your cunt.

the pressure was unfamiliar but it wasn't bad. in fact it felt really good, all the while your taste fills his mouth, floods his tongue, and he knows without a doubt that he would try this over again.

"blade-!" you gasp, reaching down to tangle your hands in his hair, effectively messing it up.

his cock is painfully hard in his pants but he can't bring himself to care -- not when he's got your spread like this, working your towards your high with every touch he gives you.

and when you finally cum, it's with a harsh tug of his hair. drawing his name from your lips, you arched further into the sheets as the last of your orgasm shook your weak limbs. his name carried significance. the tenor more than just a lovely echo of your rapture.

he hums, opening his pretty eyes to look at you. when he pulls away, theres a string a spit connected to his lips before he smiles, letting you close your thighs and curl up. the sight of you breathless and teary eyed from the intense orgasm makes him want to go for seconds.

dr. ratio .ᐟ

"what do you want?" veritas asks. he shifts a bit, the mattress creaking again. a hand lands in your hair. it doesn't pull or tangle. gentle. too gentle. he never pulls when asked; for now, you slowly relaxe into this.

"it would be good if you hurry up, too,"you remained at attention. readily awaiting as if a devoted minion who had yet to receive orders.

"impatient."veritas hums, his touch unhurried. he takes his time more than he takes. you have never known what to do with it. you still don't, now, with goosebumps on your skin.

"and you're awfully slow," you say. "i just wanna make you feel good, you know."

there's a low, thoughtful hum. veritas is always thinking. you never know what he's thinking about, but veritas Ratio is a beautiful frowner, anyways.

"very well" a sigh. tiredness, fondness. you are too dizzy on pleassure to tell "open," veritas directs, lightly touching beneath your chin. his hands are warm. he touches with purpose. efficiency, but no lack of gentleness. he touches you like a craftsman touches his work. you open your mouth.

you impishly swiped your tongue past your lips before bringing your parted mounds to the base of his dick. puckishly dragging your tongue against his pulsating sex, you followed the protruding vessels of blue, soon hallowing your cheeks as to sink your head towards his pelvis.

it earns him a soft hiss. veritas is never loud, but he's always honest. you rub your tongue along the underside, tracing the crown, flicking the slit.

a whispered curse word. veritas' hips press up a little, his hand settles on your head, there is too much saliva in your mouth, you don't know how to do it, and so you let it make a mess instead.

veritas curses again, his hand stays in place, though he's not trying to hold you in place. he makes a few shallow thrusts, cock sliding deeper, rubbing the back of your throat until you gag on your own spit, and then veritas eases you off to come up for air.

"good," veritas tells you, low and rough at your water-welled tear ducts glossed your eyes in crystalline solution. veritas is gentle even in this.

he warns you that he's close, and you moan like encouragement. his pace gentles. you are allowed to control the pace again, to pull off if you want to, but you stay.

veritas' thighs tense on either side of you, his breathings hallow and unsteady. he's always been beautiful in pleasure. all of him. veritas comes in waves on your tongue a moment later.

"pretty." veritas says contemplatively, careful not to waste a drop, so when his hand falls from your hair to your spit-slick chin, examining you, he can whip the mess from your chin with his knuckles. ever kind, ever considerate.

boothill .ᐟ

"stop staring" a moan rises in the back of your throat, and he thinks you look beatiful, how you shie away, hiding your mouth behind the palm of your hand when your moans begin to get loud, closing your eyes in ecstasy, letting the unintelligible noises melt away as boothill's hand slips inside your underwear.

"'m'enjoying the view." he runs the other hand down from your face to your chest, it dances on your body, caresses the curve of your neck, the valley of your breasts, rolling the sensitive bud beneath his fingertips, mindful to place bruising kisses along your neck where deep shapes of his ministrations would be left for you to cover.

his lips latche onto the skin of your shoulder, and he worked his away along the base until kissing the incision of flesh that dimpled behind your ear.

“look at ya,” perceptible to his observant gaze, your shoulders trembled enthusiastically, accompanying the quiver of your knees that were soon to clamp around his hand. “fudge, you're gon' be the death 'o me, darl.” he cooes against your heated skin, noting the way your hold on him tightened.

his fingers press inside, and the both of you groan together. his digits are slender, dangerous maybe, and he eases them in so slowly it makes you whine. your hips buck up against his hand, back arching, and he chuckles, a cold hand pressing down on your navel to keep your steady.

"there ya go. not so desperate after all, hm?" the sensation so riveting that you are tender into his arms as he fucks you, somehow both gentle and rough.

his fingers are sharp but slow, calculated to hit against your sweet spot with every thrust. he's filling the silence with gentle hums, encouraging you as you wither away, gasping and panting and begging.

"too good f'me," he whispers, crowding himself against your chest so you feel the cold metal of his own pressed up againts your skin, all over you. "aren'tcha?" there's a retort on the tip of your tongue, but the moment you open your mouth to speak, his hand squeeze your cheeks together "aren'tcha?"

you're nodding before you know it.

"i am," you whimper, hands bracing yourself up. your arms are quivering from the endless sensation of his big hand on you, slicking up and down and up and down slowly. he is bringing you to your climax with every soft kiss he press into your shoulder. "i'm good for you."

and you can't help the words that spill out of your mouth as you cum hard around his fingers, that twinge into the air between you. you shuddered and almost screamed through your last orgasm, a slow rolling thing after the two ecstasies preceded it.

unfamiliar with actions that caused your pretty little lips to squeal, boothill was sure to conduct each one, refusing to yield his practice until you had been blinded by sheer white, breathless and convulsing in his arms.

argenti .ᐟ

you hook your arms around argenti's neck before bringing him down for another kiss—one with more fervor, more intensity than you would otherwise offer. he doesn't reciprocate for a moment, seemingly astonished with your sudden vigor. but in time, he melts against your lips until one after the other.

such as now, his heavy body draped over yours, hips flush against you with his thick cock buried inside you.

"shh," he coos, fingers laced between yours as you sob and wail into the bed, feet mindlessly kicking as you cum around his stationary cock. he presses his lips against your shoulder, "how do you feel?" he teases you as you sniffle and tearfully look at him over your shoulder.

"s'good," you whisper and he smiles so sweetly at you that it makes your heart flutter.

he chuckles again, soft and reassuring as he lifts your thighs with strong hands, bracketing them again across his hips.

"i know it does," he responds, carefully rutting his hips against you, stirring his cock within your walls, "you came so quickly."

"'again-!" you cut off to moan when he suddenly pulls back, "wanna cum again"

"again" he considers, and you jolt when he pins your hips in place with one hand while seizing your wrist with the other. his look immediately morphs into something more captivatin, chuckling, "i'll make you cum again,"

but contrary to your expectations, argenti doesn't start fucking you into the mattress like a wild animal. instead, he hoists your hips even higher, holding your body at an odd angle. you're about to ask what he's trying to do, but when he plunges his cock back into your weeping hole, the words evaporate on your tongue.

"you are so beutiful," he assures. his sudden, unrelenting pace continues from then on out. argenti grips your thighs hard, but not enough to leave bruises.

his discretion makes your heart flutter, but you can't quite bask in the sentiment given that his cock is hitting all the spots that make stars dance in the seams of your vision.

deep. he's so impossibly deep that you fear it'll take you days to sweat him out. a trail of saliva dribbles on your chin as argenti slowly guides you to the apex of an orgasm.his name sounds like an incantation on your lips, and you wonder if the aeons would let you have this man forever.

"argenti!" you squealed, gasping as you reached down to grab his wrist, "oh! wait, 'm gonna-!"

"it's alright," he assures, voice just as soft and even as ever, "just let it happen. want you to feel good for me."

your eyes roll back in your head and you gasp, al the while he whispered praises as you trembling and gushed, soaking his hand and cock. but he didn't mind, he just enjoyed the sight of you feeling good all because of him.

sunday .ᐟ

mass against his own. his chest is keenly pressed into your breasts, pinning you to the mattress with an intimidating vigor and a punishing snap of his hips.

your ankles knock together behind his nape, and your knees crudely tense by your ears. a palm is cleaved at your waist, nails shoveling into the fat of your hips as the other hooks the bend of your knee into a firm mating press.

your fingertips fiercely claw at his shoulders, scrambling for a pillar to keep your conscious ground and aware, but you can count the stars behind your glossy lids, another flitter of light flickering into the dark as the male slotted between your legs commences another tunneling of your tiny cunnie.

"'s too much—" tears descend the swell of your heated cheeks, droplets streaking your skin and smearing the mascara you previously applied to your fluttering lashes, brows tense and crinkled as your eyes lulled towards the back of your head and exposed the reddened white of your dazed optics.

"is that so?" a hum colored his tone, mocking and high, "i just want to be selfish and feel you cum around me. that's okay, isn't it?"

he lets your head fall to the bed again as he pauses the pounding of his hips to reach for your face, grabbing the fat of your flushed cheeks before he presss his thumb on your bottom lip.

you're embarrassingly compliant, parting your lips at the same time—tongue swirling around his skin as you cover them in a sheen of saliva. sunday doesn't say a word, but there's an uncharacteristic glint in his eyes that you never would've associated with him earlier.

"but do look pretty like this." his strong hand lets go of your face, instead moving to gently move your hair from your face where it's stuck to the mix of saliva and tears- the juxtaposition reminds you again of how much he actually cared."you know i always want to make you feel good."

a tap to your temple brings you out of your stupor- you're mindless, you're a mess, it's humiliating, but he smiles down at you. "you can give me one more, hm?"

you whimper; mewl as if language were unknown to you. all you can do is cry, sob, as his splits your little pussy in half. your name echoes from his kiss swollen lips as his fucks you harder into the mattress. his brain is in shambles; cluttered and screwed as if he had lost reasoning, but he was aware of himself; aware of his present endeavor-

he won't stop until you are sobbing his name, eagerly arching your tremoring pelvis into his own because he had begun to relentlessly hammer a delicate plot that induced your vision to flicker and blurrily haze with spangled glimmers of hot electricity.

jing yuan .ᐟ

there's just something so sweet about your voice when you are desperate. when you are laying in front of you, legs trashing as jing yuan watches, a small smile on his face as you try, try so hard to angle his fingers just right.

"can't," you whimper, free hand reaching out for him. but he leans back, smiling in faux sympathy.

the nimble pads of his fingertips pried apart your slicken folds to clamp at the inflated bud between your legs, amber optics indifferent to your puppy-dog pout and repetitive mantra of plea as he forcibly held your thigh apart, eyes flittering the expanse of your skin when you pitifully cried and spoke incoherent requests he blatantly neglected to acknowledge.

he hums softly, shifting closer to you and hoisting you up by your armpits, he settles you in his lap. "better?" he murmurs against your skin, taking the vibrator in your hands and pressing it up against her drooling cunt, buzzing along her clit. she chokes out a small, yes, before burying her face in your shoulder.

"feels good, doesn't it?," he whispers. "tell me."

he can feel you tensing every time he pushes his calloused fingers just a little deeper, the way your toes curl and your ankles dig into his back. he knows you feel good. he just wanna hear it. "'s good," you whimper. "good!— feels really good."

"gonna cum?" he cradles your face with his free hand, dipping his head down to press a small kiss to your lips, swallowing your breaths. "gonna cum for me, yeah?"

you nod. your brain's melted into pretty pink goo, oozing out of your ears with every second his fingers keep fucking into you. he pushes you, keeps pushing you into ecstasy, until your unravelling on his fingers. "oh," he coos. "so pretty, look at you."

you don't know when you start cumming. you don't know when you stop. he doesn't stop though, never stops. he keeps fucking into you, the sensation so riveting you don't even feel your third orgasm until it materialises in your trembling legs.

jing yuan hushes you. "just let me, dear," he makes quick work of your clit, having you gasping his name "so good f'me, yeah? cum, come on. i know you got it in you."

you stifle your cries into his shoulder, and he smiles softly. it's times like these where he looks at you with hearts in his eyes, when he brushes the soft hair and tuck it behind your ear in a move of adoration. it's times like these when he thinks that you are so good, so sweet, you'd do anything he say, right?

#aventurine x reader #blade x reader #dr ratio x reader #boothill x reader #jing yuan x reader #sunday x reader #argenti x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader

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vintagebishx · 21 hours

Text

FOR THE FIRST TIME theodore nott

PAIRINGS: theodore nott x hufflepuff!reader

WARNINGS: fluff fluff fluff, use of she/her pronouns!, i used all lower caps.

SUMMARY: in which, the usual womaniser finds himself in love with a girl who doesn’t even know his name…

“ITS JUST LIKE SEEING HER,

FOR THE FIRST TIME,

AGAIN…”

“The first time you caught my eye

it was not love at first sight.

Instead a quiet curiosity was

planted in my chest and i knew

it was only a matter of time before

you sunk beneath my bones and

nurtured this deep seated familiarity

into a love so fierce that

i would question if i had

ever been in love before”.

THOSE WERE THE words that theo scribbled down in his journal as he sat in the middle of the courtyard amongst other students on the hot and surprisingly toasty day in Hogwarts. he finally dropped the pencil in his hand as his eyes averted back over to the sight before him, y/n.

theo wasn’t normally one for poetry but ever since the first time he had ever saw her, it was all he could think about.

he found himself in a never ending cycle of writing, constantly writing his feelings and thought down whenever she crossed his mind which was all the time.

it was like she had unknowingly helped him discover a part of himself that he was unaware of.

his gaze stuck to her face that was glowing due to the sun hitting her perfect caramel skin. she sat peaceful on the green grass with a big book opened in her hands, one that seemed to capture all of her attention.

his eyes then traveled down to her hands, her hands that were decorated with multiple rings and her wrists that wore a few bracelets.

she wore a sleeveless v-neck jumper on top of a long sleeved shirt as her yellow tie was tied perfectly. she wore two necklaces which hung and rested against his the tie.

he watched as the slight breeze in the air blew into her brown, perfectly curly, and volumed hair which also had a sunflower tucked into the side of her hair slightly matching her yellow, Hufflepuff tie. he wanted so badly to talk to her, to get to know her, to be near her, but he instead found himself gawking from afar and silently hoping that she would at least turn and look his way.

but wether he talked to her or not, even him just being able to look at her was enough to fuel his slight obsession with the girl.

she was special.

she was like the coffee he needed to energise him in the morning, or even the warmth he needed on a cold and gloomy day.

she was the sunshine that could light up any dark room.

with every minute he spent staring at her, he grew even more curious by the second. he wanted to know everything about her.

he wanted to know why she always wore that one bracelet, why she always seemed to read books published by the same author, why she always played with her hair while reading or even why she always came to the courtyard alone at the same time everyday and sat at the same spot too.

he was intrigued by her, she was different.

he didn’t want to say it in a corny way, but she wasn’t like all the other girls in Hogwarts. she kept to herself, had friends but never minded being alone, was always sweet to everyone, and didn’t care how others viewed her.

classic Hufflepuff.

if you had asked him a year ago today if he thought a hufflepuff would ever had him feeling this way, he probably would’ve laughed in your face. what made it worse was that he was presented with so many chances to go and talk to the girl but instead, he froze up and got lost in all of the words that he wanted to say which was nothing like him.

it was like she had casted an irreversible spell that only pulled him closer and closer to her.

“are you okay?” a voice suddenly spoke, causing him to break from his deep gaze.

he looked away from the girl and looked up which finally revealed mattheo, “oh- yeah, yeah!” he spoke as he cleared his throat and silently hoped that his slight infatuation with the girl wasn’t too obvious to his best friend.

mattheo furrowed his eyebrows as he looked down at his friend who was sat alone, “really? cause if you ask me, it looks like little miss Hufflepuff has you distracted…” he spoke with a small smirk.

“what? no!” theo quickly denied as he jerked his head back at his friends’ words.

matteheo took a moment to look down at the notebook that was sat on theo’s lap as he took notice to all the words written down that he struggled to read due to how far it was, “and what is this?” he asked as he suddenly knelt down to pick up the notebook, and got back up on his feet.

a sudden feeling of panic took over theo’s body as he hadn’t told anybody about his recent passion for poetry that was fuelled due to y/n.

“the first time you caught my eye it was love at first sight,” mattheo began as he read out of theo’s notebook. theodore was quick to stand up in attempts to grab the notebook from his friends’ hand but failed as mattheo continuously swerved his attempts.

“i knew it was only a matter of time before you sunk beneath my bones?” mattheo continued with a surprised tone at what he was hearing.

he had never heard theodore speak ever so passionately before.

“into a love so fierce-” “give me that!” theo interrupted his words as he finally grabbed the notebook from him.

his cheeks were tinted with a light red pigment as a small feeling of embarrassment grew inside of his system.

“your in love?” mattheo spoke with a laugh, “your in love with a hufflepuff?” he continued.

theo rolled his eyes at his words, “can you stop?” he spoke with an irritated tone.

“she’s more than that…” he began, “she’s special, s-she’s like a breath of fresh air in a world filled with copies of each other.” he spoke, his words filled with love as he brought his gaze back to y/n.

her peaceful presence finally bringing back that safe feeling in the pit of his stomach.

mattheo just stood there with his mouth slightly agape, realisation finally taking over him. his friend wasn’t just in love, he was deeply in love.

“wow… it’s worse than i thought, your infatuated nott.” mattheo said in a shocked tone.

he took a moment to look at theo, who put his head down in defeat as his friend uncovered his hidden feelings.

there was a reason as to why he had never told his friend about his liking towards the girl and it was simply because, he wasn’t used to it.

he wasn’t used to liking somebody, at all.

he wasn’t used to constantly thinking about somebody every single moment of the day, or having your heart beat faster at not only the sight of them, but the sound of their name. he wasn’t used to only being happy if he saw a certain someone, or not being able to sleep because of somebody disrupting his thoughts. he just wasn’t used to any of it.

he thought that y/n was just another girl that he would’ve liked for at least two days then gotten over her but no, the past three weeks of non-stop thoughts about her made it clear that it was more than just a crush and that he had to talk to her.

at first he was a little mad at the innocent girl as he wanted to know if she had put a spell over him, but he realised it was all him.

he craved her.

“why don’t you go talk to her, i mean you are theodore n-” “no!” theodore quickly interrupted his friend.

just the thought of her even looking at him made his nerves come to play.

mattheo took a moment to analyse his friends’ body language before letting out a loud laugh, “there’s no way,” he began, “are you… nervous?” he laughed out.

theo rolled his eyes due to it probably being mattheo’s tenth time laughing at him.

“i-i’m not, i just don’t know what i’d say to her.” he explained himself, “since when have you had trouble talking to girls nott? your clearly nervous.” mattheo laughed a little more before stopping.

“you know what?” mattheo spoke which caused theo to listen, “your gonna go over there and just speak whatever comes to mind.” he said.

theodore’s eyes widened at his words, he wasn’t prepared to even be near the girl let alone talk to her.

“what? no i’m not-” his words were interrupted by mattheo who grabbed the boys’ arm and began pulling him towards where the girl was peacefully sat, “yes you are!” mattheo spoke, simply ignoring the boy who was trying to rebel and pull away from his strong hold.

“no i’m not, now fuck off!” theo spoke harshly as he began using his strength to try and pull away but mattheo wasn’t having it.

“yes you are!” mattheo protested as he let go of theo before giving him one final strong push, pushing him right in front of the girl and causing him to drop his notebook onto the floor.

the commotion and sudden figure blocking her from the sun was enough to make y/n finally bring her head up from her book, she looked up to find the brunette boy staring right at her which slightly had her confused.

he looked a little anxious, as if he had been scared.

an awkward smile took over the girls’ face, “um, hello…” she said hesitantly as he did come from nowhere, “can i help you or?…” she continued.

but theo just stood there, like an idiot.

what am i doing, say something. he told himself mentally as he knew how stupid he looked, this was seriously unlike him.

“uhh, i-um,” he muttered out, “no!” he finally spat out as he finally moved out of his frozen state that he was once in before.

and there it was. the usually cool, and laid-back theodore nott was not tripping over his words and struggling on how to even form a sentence.

“oh…” y/n spoke, not really knowing what to tell him as she just continued to look up at him.

her eyes left his as she began to look at the grass, noticing a random, and unfamiliar notebook beside her.

“is this yours?” she asked him before she picking it up, “um yeah.” theo nervously spoke.

just then, y/n’s eyes scanned the page that was open. she quickly realising that it was a poem, her eyes lit up as she looked back at him.

“wait, did you write this?” she asked him as she stared right at him, waiting for a response.

theo’s eyes grew wide at the fact that she looked at the poem that he had made about her, his heart beats sped up due to a little embarrassment.

“y-yeah, but i’m not really a writer so-” “are you kidding me? i love poems!” she exclaimed, interrupted his words.

she took a moment to look a with a wide smile, the smile that made him want to melt.

“why don’t you sit down?” she offered which made him become shocked, “i mean unless you don’t want to then-” “no of course i do!” he suddenly spoke before walking a little closer to her, kneeling down, and sitting right next to her on the grass.

theo turned around and took a moment to look at the girl, this was the closest he had ever been to her and definitely the longest, and the first time, he had ever talked to her.

he took a good and long look at the girl, she was even prettier when closer.

her shoulder lengthened curls captured her face perfectly as they were as healthy as ever, she had a few small brown freckles on her face which is something he had never gotten to notice until now, he also didn’t notice how high her cheekbones were either. her full straight eyebrows were what made her face even more perfect as her almond shaped eyes topped her look off. his eyes then flickered to her her full, succulent lips which were as soft as ever. to top things off, her beautiful skin glowed ever so gently as the sun bounced off her face.

she was perfect… no, ethereal.

her smell too, she smelled addictive.

her sweet vanilla, tonka bean, red berries wnd mandarin scent was what drew the boy crazy. it made him want to be near her forever and ever.

“do you mind if i read this?” she asked him nicely before turning around and looking him looking him right into his eyes, “uh, sure.” he spoke as he quickly got out of whatever trance he was in.

it wasn’t like she would know it was about her anyways, he thought to himself.

y/n’s eyes went down the page as she read the poem, his writing style completely had her drawn as if it were written about her.

“oh my gosh, this is so beautifully written.” she complimented as she still looked at the notebook, she couldn’t believe how well he had managed to portray his feelings onto the paper.

she turned to look at him, “i-i mean, you sunk beneath my bones and nurtured this deep seated familiarity into a love so fierce? beautiful.” she recited his words as she continued to stare at him, impressed by how poetic he was.

theo’s eyes widened at her sudden compliments, he felt his cheeks heat up.

“thank you…” he muttered as a small smile came across his face, “who is this about?” she suddenly asked him.

theodore cleared his throat, “um, p-pardon?” he nervously asked even though he had heard her perfectly, he was just caught up by her question and did not know what to say.

a smile took over the girls’ face as she let out a breathy laugh, God that smile…

“i said, who is this about? i mean it’s so deep, there has to be someone because this isn’t something you can just make up…” she explained to him, and she was right. there was somebody who had inspired him to make the poem and it was her.

but he couldn’t tell her that.

how was he meant to explain to her that he wrote her a whole love poem, and many more, that a wife’s own husband could probably never make up if he tried.

how could he explain that for the past three weeks, she had been running endlessly through his mind?

how could he explain that every time he saw her, it felt like seeing her for the first time again?

how could he explain that in a world full of chaos, she was the peace in his presence?

he felt himself choke up due to nerves, he really did not know what to say to her. he was confused. he was confused on how this girl had so much power over him without even realising.

“a girl.” he managed to finally spit out, “it’s um, it’s about this girl.” he continued.

his eyes wandered her perfectly crafted face before opening his mouth to speak some more, “there’s this one girl who is beautiful. s-she’s sweet, kind and has been stuck in my mind almost everyday.” he spoke, “but the thing is… i haven’t talked to her yet”.

y/n furrowed her eyebrows, “well if you haven’t spoken to her before, then how do you know she’s all of those things?” she questioned curiously.

“because for three weeks i’ve been sat there like an idiot gawking at her, watching her interact with others instead of being a man and attempting to talk to her.” he explained, “there’s just something about her, she’s absolutely perfect.” he rambled on.

a smile that spread on her face exposed her pearly whites to him, “sounds like your in love!” she said excitedly.

“why can’t you just try and speak to her?” she asked curiously.

theo chucked as he brought his head down before bringing back up and look at her again, “because she makes me nervous, and i never get nervous around girls.” he said.

“but she’s different… she’s not like the rest of them, she’s even better.” he said as he was now getting lost in her beautiful brown eyes that seemed to have more colour due to the sun, “s-she’s special.” he muttered as he dropped his eyes to her lips.

it took everything in him to not just take her in his arms and give her the biggest hug ever, but he stopped himself.

y/n examined the boy and his body language, it was really no secret that he was in love. she had seen many of her friends fall in love so she was pretty good at detecting when somebody was undergoing symptoms of the contagious disease of love.

just as she was about to respond to his words, a voice interrupted her words.

“y/n? y/n!” a voice spoke causing them both to turn their heads, revealing a blonde girl in hufflepuff uniform that theo had recognised from one of his classes, her name was scarlett.

“oh hi scar!” y/n exclaimed happily, her eyes lighting up as she saw her dearest friend.

“i’ve been looking for you everywhere, everyone has!” she said excitedly as she got closer to the duo sitting down on the grass.

“we need to go, it’s girls night tonight and we need to start getting ready remember?” scarlett reminded her friend which caused y/n to gasp, “oh my goodness, how could i forget?” y/n questioned herself.

she grabbed her tote bag and shoved her book in there before standing up. scarlett held her hand out, which y/n took happily and began to walk with her.

however, y/n’s movements came to a halt.

theo watched as y/n mumbled a few words to her friend before turning back around and making her way back over to him, causing him to smile a little.

“i’m so sorry, i never got your name.” she spoke, “so incredibly rude of me.” she rambled on which only caused theo to look up at her and smile due to how cute she was.

his was also slightly shaken at the fact that she really didn’t know who he was, he believed that he had made quite the reputation for himself so it shocked him.

he stood up from the ground, his tall frame now meaning that she was the one looking up at him.

“theodore, theodore nott.” he informed her, holding his hand out in hopes that she didn’t deny his request.

his nerves died down as she accepted his request and shook his hand, “i’m happy i met you theo.” she smiled. her smooth hands felt like something he had been missing his whole life.

“wait can i call you that?” she asked frantically, she didn’t want to offend somebody she had just met.

theodore smiled at how cute she was being in that moment, “of course you can… you can call me whatever you want.” he said, slightly regretting what he last said as he didn’t want to embarrass himself even though it was probably too late.

but y/n just let out a laugh. not one that was degrading, but one that made him realise that she found what he said funny which honestly calmed him down.

y/n finally let his hand go before giving him a heart warming smile and walking off as he just stood their and watch her skip over to her friend with a smile planted on his face.

“you see, now that wasn’t hard was it?” mattheo asked his friend cockily as he came out from his hiding spot behind the tree.

but theo didn’t hear him.

instead, he continued to watch the girl walk further, and further away as his stomach did somersaults.

poem made by: Lyra Wren

border creds: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

AUTHOR SPEAKS! i kind of based this off of an unpublished draft so if i post something familiar to this, it’s cause i described the character in the same way as the draft

i hope you guys enjoyed this though!!

#theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott masterlist #theodore nott smut #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #slytherin boys #slytherin #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle smut #lorenzo zurzolo #lorenzo zurzolo imagine #theodore nott imagine #theo nott x reader #theo nott #theo nott x you

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latenightdaydreams · 2 days

Note

I can’t stop thinking about how it would likely take multiple sessions for reader to get successfully knocked up, meaning her and Konig would have sex more than once, perhaps with Konig even encouraging her to come to him without her husband… Would you ever write a part two for Family Planning? Perhaps where Konig takes reader as wife after her previous marriage falls apart?

Family Planning Part 2 (fem)

MDNI🔞

Part 1

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, adultery, p in v

1.8k word count

⛪

Lucas sits on the bed as he watches you walk out of the bathroom. Your body is covered in hickeys and bite marks from Father König, giving him a deep feeling of disgust. It’s been eight sessions, still no pregnancy. Lucas was beginning to think this whole thing wasn’t worth it.

“What?” You ask as you notice the look on his face as he sits there.

“Can we talk?”

“About what?” You pull a nightgown over your head and walk over to the bed.

“I’ve been thinking, maybe we aren’t meant to have children. Maybe we can adopt?”

You just look at him, trying to hide your true feelings. The want for a child is strong. This isn’t something you’re just going to give up on so easily. “I’ll think about it. Okay?”

That’s not what Lucas wants to hear. At all. “Thank you.” His voice is low. Not wanting to talk anymore, he gets into bed. In his mind, all he can see is you getting fucked by König. The way you both look at each other, his stomach turns. You haven’t even touched him in weeks. He turns away from you in bed and goes to sleep.

The next day, while Lucas is at work, you walk up to König’s door and knock. You fidget nervously with your fingers as you wait for him to answer. Once the door opens, you look up to see his beautiful blue eyes. You can’t resist the smile that grows when you see him.

“Y/n, it’s a pleasure to see you as always. Come in.” König steps aside to let you into his home.

He slips his hand into yours and gently guides you to the living room. You sit and turn your body to his as he rests beside you.

“Lucas and I had a talk last night.”

This sentence worried König, he knew where this was going. The thing is, he would not let Lucas try to take you away from him. The both of you have amazing chemistry together. He knows you feel this too.

“He doesn’t want to keep trying for a child.”

“What do you want?” König leans forward, his heart pumping in his chest with anxiety.

“I—" you gaze into his soft eyes, “I want a child.”

König can feel his shoulders relax. “So why stop?”

“Lucas won’t want to continue.”

“Come without him. We only need each other to create life.” König moves one of his hands to your upper thigh and caresses you gently.

“I…I suppose you’re right.” You place your hand on top of his.

“I can just imagine how beautiful our children will be,” König whispers as he leans in, pressing his lips to yours in a passionate kiss. “We have time to try again.”

König pulls away and pulls his white shirt off, tossing it aside before pulling his pants down. His cock was already beginning to get hard. This would be the first time the two of you get to have sex without Lucas here to watch over you. His eyes comb over your body as you also undress. A small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips when he sees his markings all over you.

Once you’re in your underwear König pushes you back onto the couch. He begins to leave a trail of kisses along your jaw down your neck, suckling on the already marked skin. You know Lucas will see the new mark, but at the moment you simply do not care.

“You’re so beautiful, Liebling.” He groans as his lips continue down your body. Small kisses trailing down to your breasts. His teeth find your nipple and bites into the sensitive skin lightly, pulling his head back until it pops free.

König’s hand gently trails down your body causing goosebumps to spread over your skin. His lips follow his hand down until it hits the waistband of your panties. He drops to his knees in front of you, pulling at your underwear. You gently lift your hips to assist him in taking them off.

Once your sweet cunt is in view König can feel himself melt. He grabs each of your legs and spreads them apart. A trail of small wet kisses travels from your ankle to your upper thigh. The kisses tease and build your body up for the moment of bliss when König finally reaches your cunt.

As his lips make contact you watch with excitement. You whimper softly as he kisses your pussy lips up and down, teasing you further. Finally, his tongue comes out and parts your lips. He licks from your entrance up to your clit, sucking your sensitive little bud once there.

“Gott, you’re already so wet. All for me.”

He says before pushing his tongue back between your slick folds, taking in the sweet taste of your cunt. Reluctantly, he pulls away, licking his lips. Standing to his feet, he looks down at your naked body while he strokes his cock.

König walks to you, grabbing your legs and pulling you to the armrest of the couch. He looks down at your soft body as his hands grab around your upper thighs, pulling you to him more. His hips thrust, rubbing his cock along your wet pussy.

“Are you ready?”

“Please.” You look into his eyes hungry with need.

“Please? Oh Meine Liebling, you don’t have to beg. I’m all yours.”

With this thrust his cock presses into your tight cunt. Your walls instantly flutter around his massive cock. A low moan rolls from König's throat with your name in a whisper under his breath. As he holds your hips, he buries his cock deep within your pussy; his balls pressing against your ass. His hips pull back slightly before he rams back into you.

“Yes, Father!” You moan out.

König’s eyes bore down into you as he rocks his hips into you at a quickened pace. “You’re going to look so perfectly swollen with my child.” One of his large hands caress your stomach, envisioning what it will be like to make love to a pregnant woman.

“Play with your clit.”

Your hand moves down your swollen clit, the smallest touch sends a wave of pleasure throughout your body. Since you’re so sensitive, your touches are slow and delicate. König notices. He grabs your hand and moves it away, replacing your fingers with his own. His eyes never leave your face as your jaw drops and eyes fluttering. Your face contorts in a display of pleasure.

“I’m going to…I’m—”

König’s eyes grow wide and he smiles as he watches you squirt. Your arousal drenches the couch beneath you as your legs tremble. You go to push König’s hand away from your clit, the sensitivity becoming too much.

A small smirk appears on his lips as he listens and moves his hand. “You did such a good job, y/n. I love when you come for me.”

König leans over and pulls you up to him, his arms wrapping around your body. He rests you against a wall as he continues to thrust up into your cunt. His mouth travels down your neck, kissing you desperately as his moans grow louder.

“Say my name.” He grunts.

“Father—”

“My name.”

“König!”

“Ja, that’s it.” König squeezes his eyes shut and buries his face in the crook of your neck. His thrust begins to grow erratic as does his breathing. He lowers you all the way down the shaft of his cock as he cums inside of you.

Breathing heavily, he walks through his home until he gets to his bedroom, laying you down. He’s not done with you yet. Lucas isn’t here. He can have you as many times as he desires to. This is his opportunity to explore your body in greater detail, get to know you better.

Hours pass, and without realizing, you stay out pass when Lucas gets home from work. Panic sets in as you notice this mistake. You leap from the bed to get dressed, making sure to fix your hair before you leave.

König follows you out to the living room naked. His soft cock so big it hangs and bounces as he walks. “What’s the rush?”

“Lucas is home from work by now.”

“Ah.” He doesn’t care. He wishes you’d just stay here with him.

You turn to rush out the front door when König grabs your arm to stop you.

“No kiss goodbye?”

You’re stunned but smile as you look down at his lips. His fingers pinch your chin and turn your face up to meet him before leaning in the plant for a tender kiss. As he pulls back, his eyes trace over every inch of your face, committing it to memory.

“Ich liebe dich.” He whispers before leaning back in for another kiss.

A stunned look appears across your face as you don’t say anything, but König knows that you love him back. You just haven’t admitted it to yourself yet.

“I’ll see you later, Liebling.”

You pull up to your home and sit in your car, mentally trying to come up with an excuse that he might believe. Once you’ve gathered enough courage, you exit the car to enter your home. Lucas is sitting in the bedroom. He looks deep in thought as he stares out into space. Out of the corner of his eye he sees you enter the room.

“Where were you?” Lucas asks, already knowing the answer.

“I went to the store.”

“Which store?” He asks quickly without missing a beat.

“The- the book store.”

“Hm…” Lucas stands and walks over to you. His hand reaches out to caress your face. His eyes dropping down to your neck, seeing the new marks. “You smell like him.”

You can feel heat rush to your face as you realize that you’ve been caught. At a loss for words, you just stand there and look at him. A wave of guilt crashes over you, but you don’t feel scared of losing Lucas. If anything, you feel relieved that you don’t have to lie about this.

“I saw him.”

“Yeah?” Lucas backs up and looks you up and down. “I think… I think you should leave y/n. At least for tonight. So that I can think.”

You nod, understanding where he is coming from. As you can imagine, this must be a hard position for Lucas to be in. All of the history you two share, this was never a future you saw for yourselves.

An hour later as König sits at his desk reading his bible and writing this week’s homily. König sees the reflection of car lights pulling up to his driveway causing him to pause what he’s doing. He stands and walks towards the door, opening it before you have a chance to know.

König sees you standing there with a duffle bag and a worried look on your face. Without having to ask, he lets you inside. He takes your bags from you and wraps his other arm around your waist, guiding you inside. He walks you back to his bedroom and places your bag down on the ground.

“Please, make yourself at home.” König’s voice is low and sensual. He has you all to himself, finally.

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