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#no one is allowed to be hot with a beard
maziecrazycloud · 1 month
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Im having those intrusive Jimmy beard thoughts again. Like WHY IS HE SO PRETTY WHITH A BEARD WTF MAN. anyways…
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ESPECIALLY THESE TWO ⬇️⬇️
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secretmellowblog · 1 year
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I think I finally figured out my designs for Javert and Valjean! It turns out the trick was getting good reference photos :)
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im literally just a funny little guy who wants to draw funny little cartoons, why life gotta make me cry °_°
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lacroixwh0r3 · 10 months
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Blow My Load
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DBF!Joel Miller x F!Reader
Summary: For the last two year, you and Joel have been secretly hooking up behind your fathers back. One night when your dad goes out on a date, you and Joel spend the night together and Joel gets carried away.
Warnings: SMUT!! DUB CON, petnames (pretty tame ones), doggystyle, oral sex (f recieving), PiV, creampie, crying, pregnancy mention, abortion mentioned at the end, overstimulation, Joel is a little bit of an asshole in this (I am so sorry), age gap (Joel is 40 and reader is around 25), (aged up) Sarah mentioned, no outbreak
Song inspo (Feel free to listen if you want): Blow my load by Tyler, The Creator
A/N: Enjoy! Please reblog, share, like, and comment if you want. <333
"Oh, baby," Joel moans as he breaks the kiss between you two. You look down at his lips, which are now bright red and slightly plumped. His tongue quickly licks off the mix of both of your spits from his bottom lip. His hands were still holding your head in place as he looked at you. "I wanna cum in that tight little pussy so bad, darlin."
Normally, the two of you would have to be quiet, but because your dad had decided last minute to go on a date, it was just you and Joel in the house. Or you might even go over to Joel's house, which was five minutes away, if Sarah wasn't home, but tonight the young girl was at the house with three of her friends having a sleepover doing, lord knows, what. Joel was adamant about staying over to watch the four girls, but you quickly reminded him that they're 18 years old and could easily take care of themselves. You were also going to be home alone, and you wanted him all to yourself.
As soon as your dad pulled out of the driveway, you and Joel ran to your bedroom and stripped out of your clothing.
You couldn't help but let out a whimper. "Joel, you know you can't do that." You tell him as you bring your hands up to grip his wrist. You weren't on birth control, and Joel wasn't a big fan of condoms. When the two of you did have sex together, Joel would usually pull out at the very last second, which would lead to you giving him a lecture as you both came down from the intense orgasm you both had.
Sure, it was hot when Joel did it, but you would rather not have to tell your dad that you were pregnant with his best friend's baby, and you didn't want Joel to tell Sarah that he had gotten the girl she looked up to the most pregnant.
"I know, darlin', I know, but imagine how fuckin' good it must feel." Joel whispered to you as he groans out. He brings his head close to yours again. You could feel his lips ghosting over yours.
"I'm fucking you until you can't think straight, begging me to dump my warm load deep into your pussy." Joel says before he sticks his tongue out again, only this time his tongue strokes against my top lip. You felt a strong pull in your stomach as your pussy clenched around nothing, causing you to push your hips into Joel's. "Maybe even put a baby in there." He says it lightly. It was almost as if he was saying it to himself, but somehow you still heard it but didn't comment on it.
You couldn't help but think about earlier, when Joel had lifted your dress up and ate you out on your family's couch in the living room while your dad ran to the store to restock on beer and some food for dinner. The way he sat down on the floor as he wrapped his large hands around your ankles to keep your legs from closing or falling off the couch Or the way he slurped, licked, and sucked on your clit to the point you almost wanted to scream at the top of your lungs.
You parted your lips to allow Joel's tongue to invade your mouth. Joel cocks his head to the side a bit and sucks on your tongue before letting it go and French kissing you. You can feel it as the drool slides down your chin, getting onto his beard. You feel Joel's hands release your face and move down your neck, stopping at your breast. He fondles them and thumbs your nipples. They were painfully hard now.
You wanted nothing more than for Joel to fuck you senselessly until you couldn't think of anything but him. Joel always turned you on when he talked to you like this, but you were ovulating right now, and his words weren't helping.
You pull away from the kiss. "Fuck me, Joel," You mutter against his lips. "I want you to fuck me hard, daddy."
"Yeah, you want me to fuck you nice and hard? Get on the bed so Daddy can fuck you," He says sternly. "I want you face down, ass up, darlin'." You immediately get to the edge of the bed, just as Joel told you to, with your feet hanging off.
You can feel Joel close behind you in between your legs as he reaches over your naked body and grabs the pillow near your head. "Get on your hands for me real quick," He tells you. Again, you do what he says, and he stuffs the pillow underneath your stomach. "Good girl, now lay back down on your chest." He tells you once more. You lay back down and realized that your hips were now elevated, allowing Joel to easily access your pussy.
"Oh, look at you, so fuckin' sexy with your ass in the air, just ready for me to fuck you," He teases you. "You want me to fuck that pretty pussy, doll?" Joel asked. You felt your pussy clenching around nothing. Begging for your hole to be fucked
"Mmmhm." You whimper at Joel as you nuzzle your face into the soft sheets beneath you. However, your response did not satisfy him because he spanked your ass with his large hand. Your head pops off the bed, causing you to look back at him over your shoulder.
"Say it." Joel demanded it from you. "Tell me how much you want me to fuck you."
"I've wanted you since you got here, baby. I've been so fucking wet for that big cock." You whimpered as you wiggled your ass in the air, causing him to strike your ass again.
"Oh, I know you want my cock, honey. You want me to fuck my cum into you? Hmm?" He spanked you multiple times. You let out soft whines as you shook my head.
"Hmm? What's that, baby? You want me to cum in you?" He not-so-jokingly asked:
"I mean it, Joel. You can't cum inside of me or I'm gonna kill you, old man." You give him a pointed look over your shoulder, causing him to raise his hand in defense with his eyebrows raised. You meant it jokingly, but also not jokingly.
"I promise I won't, baby." He tells you.
"Mmhm, now I want you to fuck me, Joel." You demand him. His left hand grips your waist as the other wraps around his cock as he strokes it, getting ready to slide it into you. You feel him rub his cock against your clit as he gathers the arousal that seeps out of your hole. You moan out his name as he hisses.
Joel then points the head of his cock at your pussy and slowly slides inside. Letting out a deep groan as he does so. "Oh f-fuck, baby," He shudders. Your toes had curled up in pleasure as you dropped your head onto the sheets. "Pussy so fucking tight and warm... I might just have to cum in this pussy and make you a momma, huh?" He questions you as he slowly begins to push in and out of you. Joel felt the flutter after he said that.
"Oh, you liked that, baby?" Joel teases you. His slow strokes began to form a hard, fast pounding. "Tell me."
"I am going to fu-Oh fuck me-I'm gonna fuckin' kill you, Joel!" You moan out to him as he continues his furious strokes. His balls slapped against your clit as he pushed your waist into the pillow beneath you. "Y-you have to fucking pull out," You plead with Joel. You knew that he wasn't listening as he continued to pound his cock in and out of you.
"You promised me!" You squeal out. Joel only grunted in reply and spanked your ass with full force as his left hand gripped your hips.
Somehow, Joel's thrust had only gotten faster. You could hear your headboard hitting against your wall and the sound of my ass slapping against Joel's hips. It was all too much. Your knees began to burn from the friction, your hips began to grow sore as he tightened his grip on them, and with each hit to your ass, there was a sharp sting that lingered. That's when you knew that both you and Joel were close to orgasming.
"Oh, J-Joel, baby, please!" Suddenly, it hit you. You were cumming so hard that you didn't know what to do with yourself. The combined feeling of Joel's heavy balls slapping against your clit and his cock rubbing the spot deep within you was overpowering, causing tears to form.
You grabbed the pillow that sat near your head and brought it close to your face. You bite down on the pillow as your eyes roll to the back of your head, letting out loud moans into it.
"Oh my fucking god, baby..." Joel strains out his sexy, deep voice. He spanks you again as you cum around his cock and rub your ass cheek to soothe the pain. "Come on, sweet girl, tell me who's making you feel good." His strokes had begun to slow down now.
You release the pillow from between your teeth. You were so far gone from your ongoing orgasm that you couldn't even form words. Goosebumps had formed around your whole body as you shaked and quivered.
You feel him bring his hand up and smack your ass hard again, causing your body to jerk in response. "Tell me, girl! Who's makin' you cum this hard?" Joel grits his teeth as he slowly thrusts into you.
"It's you, Daddy!" You moan out to him as you reach your arm around you to grab onto his fingers on your waist. Joel moans and slowly picks up the pace of his thrust. You could feel his balls tighten against your clit, letting you know that he was nearly cumming. You look over your shoulder at him.
"That's fuckin' right, daddy is fucking you." He fucks himself into you. "O-Oh fuck, I'm gonna fuckin' cum soon, my sweet girl." Joel continues to hold onto your hand while his other hand lazily spanks your ass some more. You watch as his head falls back and his eyes close. You feel yourself close to another orgasm as well, but you can't help but worry that Joel isn't going to pull out on time.
"J-Joel," You moan to him as you grip the sheets on the bed. "You have to pull out; I'm ovulating, and you're gonna get me pregnant if you don't." You tried to tell him so that he could pull out. However, this only seemed to turn him on more. His cock strained in you all while he continued to stroke against the spot inside of you. You released his hand, slipped it between the pillow, and onto your clit. You rubbed your clit fast as he fucked you.
Joel looked like he had been transported to heaven. He looked down at you with both hands on your hips, gripping them hard. It hurt, but you didn't care.
"Oh, baby, I love you so fuckin' much," he whimpered as he looked into your eyes. "I'm so sorry," He says, looking down at his cock going in and out of your pussy. The sight of your juices covering his cock made his body go stiff. That's when you knew he wasn't going to pull out.
"I can't stop; I need to fuckin' cum in this tight pussy right now."
"Joel! No, pull out now." You told him as you tried to move your body away from his, but his grip was too tight around you. "You promised me, Joel!" You moaned loudly.
You weren't sure how many times you had orgasmed today, but you knew that you were cumming again. Joel moans as he feels you tighten around him. His cock begins to spurt his warm cum into your womb. You were so overstimulated that your eyes leaked tears and your ears rang loudly as your cunt welcomed Joel's cum and fluttered around his cock. Over the ringing in your ears, you can hear Joel whimpering out soft appologies as he continued to cum.
With his cock still inside you as you leaked out cum from your pussy, he laid his warm body on top of your back. His chest was damp with sweat from pounding into you. You could feel his warm breath by your ear as he took a minute to gather himself together. He still felt your walls fluttering around him. "It's okay, babydoll. I got you," He whispered gently as he stroked your bare side. You couldn't speak or think; all you could do was shiver underneath his body, even though you were far from cold.
Moments later, Joel pushes up from the bed and slowly pulls his cock from you with a slight hiss and groan. Joel bends down to get a look at your cum-filled pussy with his hands resting on your ass. "Oh doll, look at that pretty pussy," He whispers as he strokes his thumb against your sore ass. "I'll be back, okay, baby?" You let out a soft hum, letting him know he heard you.
When he went to the bathroom to clean you off and get something to clean you off, he didn't hear you burst into tears. When he came back, you were now sitting in the middle of the bed, crying with your head in your hands.
He rushes into the room, places the water bottle and towel on the bed, and embraces you. You couldn't help but cry harder as you cried into his neck. "Oh, baby, I'm so sorry." He apologized as he kissed and rubbed your head. "I'm so fuckin' sorry, I don't even know what I was thinking."
You continued to cry for a few more moments before speaking up. "Joel, what if you did get me pregnant? What are we going to tell my dad and Sarah?" You look up at him with worry. He could tell you were stressed over this and couldn't help but feel his heart pull in his chest. Joel honestly didn't know what came over him during sex.
"Doll," He grabs your hand from your lap and gives it a quick kiss. "If you do get pregnant and you decide that you want to get rid of it, I will be there along the way, but if you want to keep it, then I will be sure to take care of you and the baby no matter what." Joel says it truthfully.
You stroked his hand with your thumb. "Joel, I'm not getting rid of it, but we're gonna be so fucked when my dad finds out his best friend of four years has been boning his daughter for the last two years and got her pregnant..." You say this to him as you look down at his hand in yours. "He'll fucking probably end up kicking me out and then kicking your ass."
"Don't you worry your pretty little head 'bout that darlin'; you're always welcomed at my house." With his other hand, he holds your head and kisses the crown of your head. "As for him kicking my ass, that ain't happening, sweetheart," He says sternly, as if he is sure. You let out a snort as you laughed.
"Oh really?" You back away from him to get a look at the cocky look on his face. He just looks down at your face with admiration.
"I'm certain, darlin'," He tells you, causing you to let out a loud giggle. That beautiful giggle overwhelmed Joel with love. He knew he loved you before, and he always made sure that you knew he loved you, but he knew right there that there would be another compared to you. You were it for him.
After your giggles had died down, you noticed that he was looking at you with a sparkling look in his eyes. "What?" You asked him softly as you played with his fingers.
"You know I love you, right?" He asked you. You felt yourself beginning to get shy. The both of you always told each other how much you loved each other, but something about this was different.
"Of course I know, Joel. Do you know I love you more, though?" You lean over and plant a soft kiss on his cheek. You then pull back to take a look at his face. The way his hard eyes softened when he looked at you made you weak in the knees. "So fuckin' handsome!" Joel's cheeks turned a soft pink color.
"And you're the most beautiful thing on earth," He whispers to you. "You're mine forever; don't ever forget it, darlin'." You wish this moment could last forever.
You released his hands from yours and brought them to your stomach. "I can't believe we might be having a baby, Joel," You whispered as you stroked your stomach. You could see you and Joel sharing a child together and even getting married whenever the time is right. He puts his hand over yours as well and rubs his thumb against your hand.
"You want me to cum in you again so we know we're successful, baby?" He suggested it with a smug tone. The soft look on your face immediately dropped and was replaced with a blank one instead.
"You're such a dirty old man," You tell him. "But yes, I do." You give him a quick peck on the lips before laying back down on the bed.
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A/N: I kinda hate this, but its been on my mind and I wanted to write.
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harrysonlylover · 4 months
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Insatiable*
Short smutty blurb based off this gif!
Wc: 1.2k
Warnings: degradation, unprotected sex, slightly mean dom h.
Trope: no specific AU
Masterlist
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Harry is ascending to heaven, he’s sure of that.
He must be one of the lucky ones who were chosen to be blessed in their lifetime. He can’t quite remember what good deed he did to deserve this—but he’s not letting her get away.
His ears were ringing and he felt dizzy, almost lost himself for a hot minute before remembering to keep his eyes on her. It would be a shame to close them.
His eyes couldn’t get enough of staring at her perfect body, right in front of him.
“So fucking beautiful.” He panted, his hands frantically roaming her skin.
She only responded with a soft whine, trying to keep up and ignore the cramping in her legs. She needed his cock, needed to ride him, no matter how tiring. She wanted to show him that she’s his good girl and that she can work for his cock to earn it.
It was hitting her sweet spongy spot, daring her to fall against Harry’s chest and beg him to fuck her.
But no, she bounced like a good girl on his creamy cock that was shining with a mix of their juices. She felt like their lower bodies were on fire—the heat bubbling up in her core was euphoric.
“Pretty girl showing daddy how much she loves his cock.” He praised her, moving a few hair strands from her face, before patting her head.
Damn right, she loved it.
The sound of skin slapping and her soft whines had him rolling his eyes. But again—he couldn’t keep his eyes away for too long. Her breasts were in his face, jiggling with every bounce, begging him to knead them and have a taste.
He untied her hair allowing it to cascade down her back. He adored her hair and loved giving her head scratches, but most importantly he craved pulling it while he thrusted into her from behind.
“Gonna light me up with how warm your pussy is baby.” His raspy voice wasn’t helping her neediness, after all, she was in desperate need of his cock.
“N-need it.” She managed to confess through ragged breathing. The view he had may be sinful, but hers is sending her straight to hell.
He was laid back against the headboard, a hint of a grin spread across his pretty face. His beard was still covered in her cum from when he worshipped her earlier.
His hair, so messy from the tugging yet still curly. She couldn’t help but glance down at his chest, a line of sweat trailing down to his chiseled abs that contracted under the dim light.
Not only can she feel how wet and messy they are but she can also hear it. In fact, his pelvis was already coated.
His pupils were blown and his lips were slightly parted in awe. He raked his eyes quickly from where they were connected, watching her sink on his length, to her gorgeous face and chest.
But—he can’t quite forget the setup he made. He placed a tall mirror behind them, so he can glance at it and get a good view of her back and ass that was red.
“Is that all you got princess, hmm? Thought you were my good girl.” He landed a harsh slap on her already sensitive cheeks.
“I—am.” He swore that she almost cried right there and then. He knew how uncomfortable the position must be and still—she fastened her pace.
“Shhhh baby, just take my cock. It’ll help your greedy cunt to rest.” He mocked, not forgetting to degrade her for her sigh of relief once he pushed inside—it was like her cunt needed his cock to survive.
His hands roamed her back which arched when he purposely thrusted all of a sudden. Her head rolled backward as she clenched on his swollen cock.
She was his fucking sex goddess.
He couldn’t stop exploring her back as his ears listened to her beautiful whines and whimpers. He initially mocked her, asking her if she was ovulating—but maybe her pussy is just made for his cock.
He could tell that she was starting to get tired, her forehead dropped against his as she panted and held eye contact with him. His hand rested on her ass, rubbing over the red skin.
“Poor bunny, got tired already?” She nodded quickly, slowing down her pace.
“Then I should make use of this hole, right?” His deep voice went straight to her core as she whispered ‘Please Daddy.”
He really felt like passing out from how good she felt, so warm and wet. Just for him.
He dug his heels into the mattress and placed his hands on her bruised hips before grinning at her and thrusting inside her.
“Need to do everything for you.” His thrusts were rough, and she could feel him in her stomach.
“Always have to fuck this cunt or else you’ll drool like a puppy in heat.” The degrading went through her brain, making her moan like crazy.
He was feral with his pounding, she knew that she’d be sore for days to come. But she also knew that he would kiss her pussy to ease the pain.
She already came twice, almost came for the third time from riding him but she couldn’t continue. With his current rough force, she won’t last long.
He was so raw and primal—his tongue nipped at her skin, just anywhere. She could feel his rapid heartbeats, the thickness of his swollen length pulsing inside her as he fucked her repeatedly.
And god—don’t even ask her about his naked body, how his thighs and pelvis would look right now, all wet and coated from her juices. If she wasn’t already wrecked—he’d ask her to clean it up with her tongue.
“Cum inside me.” She begged as she held his face in her hands.
“Yeah? Is that what you want? My hot load inside of your cunt?” He teased, giving her deep slow thrusts.
“Yes—Daddy.”
“Hmm, maybe that’ll tame your pussy.” He pulled her hair roughly, and the sting of her scalp combined with his creamy cock was enough to tip her over the edge.
She trembled on his length, nails digging into his skin as she moaned his name like a mantra. His orgasm followed hers in a few seconds, unable to resist the clenching and pulsing of her warm pussy.
His hot cum painted her walls white, prompting them to moan louder as they kissed. The feeling of his cum deep inside her was like nothing else.
“My baby, so good for me.” He held her against his chest, as he pressed kisses to her face.
Sweat adorned their bodies and the smell of sex filled the room. He rubbed soothing patterns on her back before whispering to remind her of the bubble bath they had to take.
She simply replied by leaving a peck on his lips and moving herself again on his sensitive cock.
An insatiable little devil. ——————————————————
Taglist: @prettythingsworld-blog @slut4marvelmenn @cherrycokeslay @wandas-lawyer @tbsloneely @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @missmielyhoran @harryssideboob @harrysficreblog @itslottiehere @hsonlyangelxo @gem1712 @adachhi @tpwkkkkk @hrryberry @summertime-pills @lhhrryismyhome @marzhshaim @harrystylessslut @keepdrivingkisses @rideeonstyles @matildasatellite @a-strange-familiar @greivingfortheliving @babyyangel111 @soblavk @straightnogayhs @awesomenavy @infinatetatie @be-with-me-so-happily @harrysrockstarsgf @cherrys4suckers @straightontilmornin @stilesissaved
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the-fluff-piece · 1 year
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Sexy Headcanon -
How they like to go down on you
Law, Sanji, Zoro all have different techniques licking pussy
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This is an 18+ headcanon, so minors don't read, don't interact
Like this one? Check out my headcanon masterlist and my Story masterlist
Law
He's fully (for his standard) clothed and stays that way
Beforehand he studied the clitoris intensively, he knows where all the sensitive parts are
He doesn't like it as foreplay. He likes leading you away to some corner in the middle of the day to yank your pants down or push your skirt up, get on his knees in front of you and lick you through your panties before moving them aside
He likes his hands under your shirt, massaging and pinching your breasts as his tongue gets to work on your pussy
He's methodical and mindblowingly slow, he knows he gets you there and likes to make to you ask for more, faster and harder
When he decides that you've begged enough, he gives it to you with all of his ability. His mouth sucking on your clitoris, stroking with his tongue and fucking you with his fingers. He also likes to remind you that there's people nearby and you should keep quiet
He loves to look you in the eyes when you cum
When you're finished and exhausted, he gives you a hot, wet kiss before returning to whatever he's been doing. He'll be looking at your reddened face with a knowing grin.
Zoro
He's a man of carnal tastes and high intensity, it's not enough for him to just pleasure you with his mouth, he likes to get his cock sucked simultaneously - so you'll have to straddle his face and get down on him, too
The man also has no sense of pacing, he starts how he feels like and if that's full force, you'll have to deal with it
Beware! The bastard bites, nibbles and sucks so hard you will definitely get marks
His wicked tongue is practically everywhere, inside and outside you. His mouth is always hot
He's grunting louder than you
He allows himself to cum only after satisfying you
Once is never enough, when he's finished with mouth stuff, he's immediately hard again and ready to fuck
Sanji
First, he always freezes and stares ar your pussy. He never gets enough of your sight. Your most tender and sensitive part, there for him to please and enjoy
He begins slowly and cautiously, he doesn't want to hurt you. His tongue is exploring every fold with slow curiosity while his blue eyes are fixed on your face to asses what brings you the most pleasure
When he found the way that makes you moan loudly, he won't stop until you come, enjoying your moans and your taste, stroking himself because it's so hot to him. It really gets him going to bring you pleasure, he moans against your flesh as he sucks and licks you with increasing intensity
Actually, he finishes first, whimpering as he comes on the sheets, but he doesn't stop, he takes your thighs into his hands to lift your hips up and becomes a wild slumbering mess. His face is pressed so closely to your pussy that you feel his beard tickling you.
When you cum for him, he's happy and exhausted and cuddles your chest to be praised
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gremlingottoosilly · 6 months
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The only thing you want to do is... [Price x fem!Reader]
Price broke his hand on the last mission. Fortunately for him, his caretaker is just as adorable as she is eager to help him in every way.
CW and tags: Legal age gap, power imbalance, daddy kink, pervert!Price, obsessive!Price, coercion into sex, handjob (m!receiving)
Word count: 3246
This work on AO3
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You’re such a sunshine, it hurts. 
John Price never considered himself to be a good man. He did what he had to do to protect his country, to ensure that big bad terrorists are kept at bay, and foreign militaries are ending up where they belong – somewhere in the ditch, with reports stating KIA an anonymous bullet drugged out of their skulls. 
His job was just that – a job, something that had to be done because he knew that someone else, someone worse, would gladly take his place in case of retirement. The captain can be considered a fucking angel compared to some people he is working with – no one would ever dare call him evil when people like Graves still exist out there, hunting for innocents. 
But you’re so fucking sweet to him, he simply can’t handle it. 
When his arm got injured, and he was forced to get on leave for at least a month – he tried to argue for something less, but Lasswell silently pointed out that he hadn’t had a break in the past five years, and she would kick him out of his own Task Force if he’d continue to refuse – he got assigned a caretaker by Kate recommendation. 
John was fully expecting some old lady, probably a retired officer or field medic. Maybe some burly man with too much time on his hands and the ability to give really nice massages under flights of bullets. Perhaps, worst case scenario, he would be assigned an actual; nurse that wouldn’t buy any of his shit – that amount of whiskey he drinks is prescribed by his therapist, smoking cigars in the apartment is a nice form of relaxation, and he actually doesn’t need help and can go in service back again less than in two weeks. 
But, the Captain got wee ol’ you, all nice and warm, and adorable, and too fucking young to have anything to do with his apartment. 
You’re nice, warm, fresh out of college, where you got some recommendations about rehabilitating veterans back into normal lives. Probably was writing a Thesis about something as dumb as “Healing PTSD through flower crowns and little touches”. You chirp your way into his heart and refuse to go out – just like Kate promised to him, you really didn’t allow him to do anything on his own. 
God, it was infuriating – how much he wanted to simply grab your shoulders and kiss you. Or kick you out and find someone else to take care of him, someone boring, someone of appropriate age. Without dumb, bright eyes and cute smiles, without enthusiasm, that can only be seen in unpaid interns and college graduates who still believe that the world is fair and nice. 
You cook his dinners and clean up his apartment – as small as it is, never having a family or any other reason to make it even slightly bigger – and you do this with such a wide smile on your face it actually makes Price question basically everything he knows about young ladies doing charity work. You must be paid triple because you fold his underwear in neat little cubes and refuse to accept his help. Always chirped something about his hand like he can’t kill a man with his teeth only. 
— I can fold my own pants, love. 
He presses his body against the doorframe of the small bathroom – looks at your ass so shamelessly bent over the washing machine. You’re folding his dried clothes, and he can only pray that you aren’t slowly resenting him for being such a disgusting old man. He knew he looked good for his age, 37 years in this world molded him into something that many young women would consider hot – even though his beard is unkept and his hair grew a bit longer since he couldn’t be arsed to do anything about it, and his dominant hand is broken. 
— We don’t want to sprain your hand even more, right? — Everythin’ is alright with my bloody hand…
— Lady Lasswell said I shouldn’t listen to you like this, sir. Sorry. 
— Little minx. 
— Me or Lady Lasswell? 
John looks at you, so eager and cheerful, and he just wants to…he can’t, of course, he stops himself before he even forms the thought because it’s dirty and you don’t deserve this, and your shy smile as you laugh softly and push the last of the laundry in the neat pile on the washing machine. 
You look too eager to please, and he has an idea – the one he will never act upon. Maybe will entertain himself later, stroking himself in some abandoned base deep in the snowy tundra, trying to remember your warmth as if a sinner like him can even comprehend your light. 
God, you got him so bad, he starts thinking about good ol’ Jesus again. You really are a side to behold, aren’t ya. 
He looks at you again – you’re so easy to please. You cook for him, the smell of home cooking that he almost forgot, all the ingredients you invited yourself to buy when he left his card for you. You didn’t think it was weird, not a single mischievous bone in your body – if anything, he was casually prompting you to go and buy yourself something nice, something as compensation for all the trouble you endured for him. 
Instead, you went out of your way to cook for him, to make him tea like he wanted it – without sugar, but with a small amount of milk poured into a cup that is probably the most expensive thing in this whole place except for his weapons. 
The problem is – John Price doesn’t really like it when people are taking care of him. Not because he is shy or insecure, god forbid, but because he knows that if a pretty young thing like you is going to show him kindness, he will take a fucking mile and make you run from him as fast as you can. He has desires, he has needs, something that pretty good girls like you should know nothing about. 
You’re so eager to please that you’ll probably jerk him off if he were to whine about his arm being broken and his inability to get himself off because of it. Which, in turn, gives him an…idea. 
Price was never a good person – he isn’t the worst guy either. He sees your reactions, that adorable heat of your face when he brushes his knuckles over your cheek in an affectionate manner. How you are biting your lips every time you have to fold his underwear, when you cook for him, and he presses his body against yours, rocking his hips just gently enough to not make his arousal obvious. John knows you like him in more ways than just one – he doubts that such a lovegirl like you would ever agree to take care of a grumpy military man like him. 
He wonders where your father is – probably out of the picture if his precious daughter is almost crying from a desire to please a guy like him. He wonders if you have a boyfriend or if you’re seeing someone else – if you’re a virgin or you already had a series of disappointing sessions with blokes that have no idea how to behave with an angel like you. 
Pretty girl like you shouldn’t be taking care of a SAS captain – did your superiors forget to tell you just how girl-hungry men like him are? That he didn’t even bother to find a wife, and the loneliness of a single life will make him fucking explode if a girl as pretty as you were in the vicinity of that perverted old dog. You must be stupid – or so insanely naive, it’s not even funny. 
He licks his lips, staring at you again. He is certainly isn’t a good guy – not the worst either, but it’s up for debate. He wants to hold you close and say all of those pretty good things he knows you want to hear. He also wants to push you as close to him as possible and just fuck that pretty girl until you’re begging for him to make you his wife. He’d always laugh at the thought of other military commanders and higher rank soldiers having sugar babies – especially the mercs and their fucking inability to keep a girl who isn’t tied to their paychecks. But now…he might just pay for your adorable pout and eagerness. 
Might make a call to that one masked arsehole and ask how the hell he keeps his questionably young wife around without breaking her legs. Visibly, at least. 
— Sir? Planet calls for Captain Price. 
You giggle when you are waving your hand around him. Shit – looks like he zoned out for a hot minute, leaving you free to stare at his face, the fantom red spreading across his skin as if he is actually embarrassed to be caught like this. He isn’t, of course, he is stronger than some girl trying to get a rise out of him. He thinks he is stronger, at least. 
You wave your hand in front of his face again, and the insects are kicking in – captain grabs your hand, not even caring that his supposed helplessness stems from the fact his dominant hand is still broken. He has no problems keeping you in place with just his left hand – and you almost look scared when you understand that you literally can’t move. 
Your innocent smile turns into a pathetic whimper when he squeezes you even more. Bruises, no doubt, are starting to form already – well, it should be your fault. Good girls are usually smarter than teasing an old dog like him, even if you’re trying to play innocence. He knows what you are. 
His future special girl that is. A wife, if he plays his cards right…and the captain was always good at poker. 
— Shite, love. Sorry. 
His smile mirrors yours – an innocent display like he didn’t almost break your wrist in his hold. He is still squeezing your hand, but not he slowly presses his lips against your knuckles – thin, dry lips gently caressing your skin in a gesture that you should never accept from a guy who kills people as a job. Who saves people, too – but a good guy with a gun is barely an upgrade from a bad one. 
He kisses your fingers and finds heaven in the feeling of your soft skin against his lips. You are certainly embarrassed, and this is exactly what he wants – an old pervert trying to get in the pants of a cute girl who just wants to take care of him without any strings attached. He just has to make this whale thing complicated, isn’t he? 
— It’s okay, sir. Just thought I lost you for a second. 
— Not a chance. 
Your smile looks a tad bit mischievous – that is, or he is simply hallucinating from painkillers he is forced to drink every morning because you refuse to let him feel pain even though he is used to it. You are acting like he is a soft doll made out of pink ribbons and soft plushes, not a seasoned soldier with his own thoughts and ideas about what he can do about your desire to please him. He might just use your eagerness – his cock has been pitching for too long without female attention, and he usually doesn’t indulge in shitty one-night stands in some sketchy pubs, but he can make an exception for now. For you. 
You smile awkwardly, still trying to get your hand out of his grasp. Little minx, teasing him like he can’t just push you on this exact washing machine and fuck you like a slut you are. Poor girl, you probably don’t even know what kind of thoughts he has in his head – even though your eyes tell him something your lips cannot articulate. 
John acts on his instincts, and they usually don’t deceive him. 
— If you want to help so badly, I can think of another way. 
— Is that so, sir? You’re going to get him in so much shit with Lasswell, he doesn’t even know how he is going to get out of it after fucking her best little protege. Would have to marry you – like it’s not his end goal, like he doesn’t want to make your care for him a tad bit more permanent. He has done so many good things for humanity, why can’t he be a bit selfish and get himself a little something to make this place feel more like home? 
He thinks of a pretty thing like you, heavy with his kids, cooking something nice and hearty in his house – not this crappy apartment, of course, he’d buy you something in the countryside, away from terrorists and public squares, with good schools and greenery all around. 
You lick your lips and tilt your head to the side. He is daydreaming again. 
— If you want to make me relax so badly, love, there is something I need help with…
Beating around the bush like this isn’t in his character – but he knows that you’re a good girl, maybe way too good and proper. He can’t just shove his dick in your hand, it would be too unpolite. 
He has to prepare you, it’s a slow sniper mission where he needs to approach you as gently and quietly as possible – he still holds your hand in his, a phantom of his lips tucked away on the softness of your skin. 
Then he places his hand on his growing erection – as awkwardly as he can operate with only using his left arm as a helper. 
Price might not be the master of espionage, but he also didn’t get his rank for not being able to do cover missions under pressuring circumstances and lie in the faces of people who trust him. Not be the best person, of course, but he gives you a choice. You have all the power now – even with his weapons safely stashed in his bedroom, he knows he won’t ever try to force you. He won’t have to. 
— Help your captain, eh? 
You’re embarrassed, shy, scared even – your hands are trembling, fingers tracing the outline of his cock with morbid curiosity he never thought he’d find this adorable. You don’t stop and don’t try to fight him – like a little animal, nervous and terrified somewhat, you’re slowly indulging yourself in something that you actually shouldn’t. 
He lets go of your hand and allows you to continue on your own – like a good girl, you only nod and slowly duck your palm in his boxers. He’d say that the way he is rock-solid just from looking at your ass and pouting on your face is weak, but he can afford to be a bit pathetic after so many weeks without the ability to jerk off. With your watchful gaze, he just couldn’t find it in his heart – or the only remaining working hand – to do something to help with his raging crush on this adorable social worker who comes to help him. 
John is many things – a war hero, war criminal, the captain, and the butcher of many who may deem his actions irredeemable. He made peace with not being the poster good guy and often dirtying his hands just to keep the world clean – and he knows that, in the end, he deserves a pretty young thing to jerk him off while he kisses your hairline and whispers sweet nothing with that beautiful accent of his. 
— This is not very… appropriate, sir.
— Bullocks, love. You’re helpin’, that’s why you’re here. 
 You’re nervous when your hand, squeezing his shaft firmly, goes up and down on his cock. You’re trying to find the rhythm in his quiet grunts and little moans, not having too much experience with pleasuring men who you like this much. It’s fear of disappointing him that makes you go wild, that approving gaze of his every time you press your soft fingers against the head of his cock and squeeze a little. 
He is throbbing in your palm, pre-cum leaking on the small of your fingers – naturally, you lick it as slowly as possible, not breaking the eye contact. 
Price moans. 
— Bloody hell, luv…so good for daddy. 
The name makes your ears burn, the desire growing in your stomach – you fight the urge to drop on your knees and take him fully in your mouth. This isn’t what he wants, you think, so you just continue to squeeze him more, making sure he is satisfied with every little movement your hand makes. You lick your lips and continue, feeble attempts at containing the rhythm with shaky fingers. 
— I just wanted to help you with your life, not…this. 
He chuckles, unharmed hand presses on the small of your back to fix you in place. You lick your lips, understanding that he is not going to let you go this easily – you don’t want to behave like this, of course, it’s against the terms of your contract and your agreement to help him without feelings attached, but he moans so deeply for you, hips are buckling to fuck the firmness of your hand like he is ready to use your moist, prepared pussy. 
God, what are you even thinking about? 
You don’t know if you should be doing this, but the captain is not letting you go – and you can’t even do anything against his wishes, can you? 
— We really shouldn’t be doing this. 
— Quiet. I’ll help you out after my hand is healed, eh? — This isn’t what I’m talking about, sir. 
— Now, let’s not use that here. I’m sir in the field, not here. 
He is manipulating you as hard as he can – he can feel the tension in your eyes and the way you’re squeezing his cock, and he wants nothing more but to simply push you harder, make you fall apart in his hold like a precious porcelain vase. You’re sensitive and shy, just perfect for a bastard like him – his only regret is that the dumb cast on his right hand won’t really allow him to relax to have sex with you properly. 
He will pay you back later – on your back, on your knees, on your tummy, moaning his name as he plunges his seed deep into you. It was about time he’d settle down with a pretty wife of his own – he can afford you, certainly. 
— I can’t call you daddy, it’s embarrassing…
Your shy words are what send him over the edge. John Price was never a good guy to begin with, but your little pleas are enough to make him cum – and it’s certainly one of the biggest sins he has ever committed. Cute girl like you shouldn’t be so embarrassed about jerking him off, but here you are. 
Your hands are covered in cum as he continues to release his seed, only sad because he wasn’t able to breed you properly – that’s the agenda for the time when he finally is freed from this dumb cast. Might just ask Lasswell for extended leave. 
— You’ll just have to get used to this, love. Not letting you go after this. 
You can only whimper when he kisses you – possessive and tender at the same time. A silent promise of making you his dumb little wife. 
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Please! I need the part 2 of “Captain Price opens a package, thinking it’s intel, but it’s a sex pollen.“ I'm on my kneesss pleaseee it was so good! 😭♥️
Anyways, I'm your new follower 😍, and some of the stories you write is just so damn good😍 (Sorry for bad grammar's, English isn't really my first language, uwu)
im sorry but idk what a part two even looks like. i know a lot of people have asked for it but its... just some couch sex?? idk i'll try.
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Laswell clicked the door shut behind her, and part of you wished she had locked it. Gaz was sure to tell the rest of the team, but you could do without an audience. What would they even see if they barged in here?
The captain had let his cock loose from the confines of his pants, and they were sliding down his thick, muscular ass with every selfish thrust. He was rubbing himself like a naughty dog against your clothed pussy, begging for entrance with every forward movement. Your shirt was pulled down, revealing your breasts, and now they were covered in pink marks from the roughness of his beard as he moved his mouth across you.
Feeling him take each nipple and suck it so gently into his mouth, pulling it in like delicious nectar through a straw, drinking you although you were dry, tasting you even though you had no flavor. It was too much, but he couldn't stop.
You felt a little wrong to be enjoying your commanding officer so much. His humping was making your body respond even as it waited for your guilty conscience to catch up.
"Cap... oh, my fucking God... No, Captain. We shouldn't..." you tried to protest on his behalf, knowing he was being controlled by the powder.
"Corporal," he spoke with his mouth full of your flesh, "I can stop... now. It'll give you... enough time... to run..."
His bright pink eyes flashed up at you in warning and he used both his arms to pin you on either side of your head, forcing you to look at him, the intensity of which went right to your rapidly-melting core.
Suddenly, in a moment of lucidity, he looked you right in your eyes and finished his sentence,
"But that will not be bloody true for long."
As if warning you, he rubbed his hardness up and over your belly, letting it ruck up your shirt, and you felt its incredible heat. It was like a long, steel brand. His skin was smooth, but it was scalding and swollen with his blood. The huge tip left a wet trail of desire wherever it went.
"It's okay, Captain. You can have me if you --"
There mere suggestion of your consent was all he needed to let the dam burst and the river run free. His need crashed from him with an explosive force. He all but ripped your clothes from you, nearly hurting you in the process, making your ankles ache from the sudden pressure as he shucked your pants and boots away in one go.
Your panties were torn from you, sturdy though they were. The fabric made a whining, popping noise as the elastic split. Air rushed across uncovered skin, and your body doubled down on its plans to produce as much natural lubrication as possible. It seemed to know you'd need it.
He didn't touch you. Not with his hands. There was no preparation of any kind. Price fed himself into you like a hand into a glove, a body part in need of sudden and immediate warmth. He took control of your head again, pinning you in that same furious way, and you had a singular view of his face, twisted in a sort of sublime agony as he sank himself into you for the first time.
The pressure was almost unimaginable. Your body was making a lurid, wet, slicking noise as his cock forced you in half. You tried to allow him in, tried to relax, but there was little you could do. He was immense and heavy. It felt like a fist on a strong arm, like a forge hammer, hot and searing. The only thing more tormenting was his voice purring darkly in your ear.
"Fuck, you're warm..."
He pulled himself out of you inch by inch, leaving a terrible hollow where you were once whole.
"Wet for me. So wet. How?"
Back in. And in. And in. It seemed to go forever in and it made you wonder how deep you were.
"It feels so good to have you 'round me, love..."
When the rosy head of him found the end of your wet hole, it sort of... settled there. Locked in, like a key into a tumbler, and each fold of you a lifted pin, fitting him as if you were crafted for it.
"Thought 'bout how you'd feel. Sometimes... dreamt it."
You felt your body give away your surprise. He was too gone to notice it, but not you. You would have been able to feel the planets shift an inch to the left if they dared. You could feel everything. Each and every pore and hair and breath was awake and alive and living in the rawest possible way. Could he have really been thinking of you like you were thinking of him?
"Bloody fuckin' hell. So tight. Too tight."
He was right. It was too tight. He was squeezing himself in with each of these aching, crazed thrusts, shoving himself inside of you hungrily, all the way up to your pounding heart, it seemed. You felt yourself slipping around him like hot oil, running down his shaft and matting the coarse, dark hair that cradled his root.
"John..."
You used his name in place of his title, and he noticed. Noticed it like a hawk notices a hare. Right in your ear, up against your cheek, he responded, too quickly, too much teeth,
"Yes, love. Yes. Yes? Tell me."
He was grunting now, clearly on the edge of his pleasure. You aimed to take him over it, to plunge him into blinding darkness. You whispered, and each word hit its mark like the straight shaft of an arrow, striking into the target one after the other, tearing through the bullseyes like they were nothing but air.
"You're gonna make me come, John."
Again, that unearthly snarl came from his chest, the one you'd never heard before come from the mouth of a man. It was a cry and a scream and a prayer and a plea and had he not been pinning you down prone with his own prostrated body, he would have been growling it from his knees. He commanded you as he worshiped you,
"Give it to me. Give it to me. Give. It. To. Me."
Your body listened before you could even register his words.
From the bones in your hips, you felt your muscles tighten along his iron rod like a fist, closing in on him knuckle by knuckle, and each closure brought you closer to that brink where the darkness turned to blinding white light. You could feel the sparkle of it, that peppery gunpowder flash and then...
"Holy fuck, love..." He stared at you as if you were the sun lighting up his whole life. Like he'd seen you before, all sherbet pink and blazing orange, in the dawn, in the mornings, cutting over the horizon.
Price had come in you. You felt it. It slid along the cleft of your ass and soaked into the fabric of the couch. He didn't mind it. You couldn't. His body was still thrusting as hard and as heavy as before, fucking up into you as if he hadn't just filled you with his thick, hot cream.
"I can't... " he gasped, wrenching his eyes shut, "I can't stop..."
"It's okay, John..."
"I can't bloody stop, love. I'm... fuck, I'm sorry..."
"I'm okay. It's okay," you whispered to him, trying to soothe him.
You pet the hair back over his brow and he leaned into your touch like a cat, purring for more of it. You laced your fingers through his hair and held him tight at his scalp, turning his head so that you could talk to him right into his ear,
"Fuck me how you need to, Captain."
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evansbby · 9 months
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another sugar daddy Ari 🫣🥵✨✨
18+ minors dni, daddy kink, age gap, smut
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Ari wasn’t a conventional sugar daddy by any means. Well, what was a conventional sugar daddy, anyways? You wouldn’t know, because this was the first time you’d ever been in an arrangement like this. You didn’t know what you expected when you signed the contract. But it’s not like you were complaining…
You weren’t complaining when he made you sit on his lap while he kissed you everywhere. Slowly, sensually, petting you like you were his little toy, while he asked you questions about your life.
“Are you enjoying college?” While he sucked on your neck.
“Tell me about your parents, how are they doing?” While he peppered kisses along your jaw.
“What extra-curriculars are you taking this semester?” As he kissed your cheek and cooed at you.
You’d tell him, being as animated as possible because he seemed to like how chatty you were. And he’d play with your hair and caress you everywhere and put his hands up your skirt or play with your bra strap. It was like you were a delectable meal that he was playing with, and he enjoyed teasing himself almost as much as he enjoyed teasing you.
“Baby, you didn’t spend any of your allowance this week.” Ari inquires one day, frowning as he enters your apartment. Well, the luxury penthouse apartment he was paying for, but he liked to call it yours and you liked having a place of your own so you never corrected him. Not that he’d appreciate you correcting him on anything anyways. Men and their egos…
You shrug, sitting up on the couch where you’d been waiting for him. He’d texted you earlier informing you that he’d cleared his schedule to meet you for lunch. And of course, you assumed lunch was code for sex, which was why you were clad in only a pretty pink lingerie set with silky ribbons and bows, along with a pair of pink high heels which Ari already couldn’t take his eyes off of.
“Sorry, daddy, I just didn’t feel like shopping.”
You cross and uncross your legs, looking up at him and biting your lip. How can you tell your sugar daddy that there’s only so many new dress, shoes or purses you can purchase in a week?
Ari huffs, “I’m gonna have to start punishing you if you don’t spend your weekly allowance, sweetheart.”
But he’s already unbuckling his belt, which makes lick your lips excitably. You’d only been in this arrangement with him for a month and a half, but he’d already got you addicted to his dick. And his mouth. His tongue. His hands…
Ari was so different from the college boys you were used to. Not only was he older, mature, experienced in how to please women, but he was also just… so rugged. And tough. Rough around the edges, so to speak. With his mane of long hair, his bristly beard and wild eyes, he was incredibly virile, handsome, and quite frankly, every girl’s wet dream.
In his 40s, he was now the big CEO hotshot of some huge company. But he’d worked for the government when he was younger, going out on international missions and doing all that dangerous, top secret stuff. But that was all he ever told you about that, and yet you could see it on his face, everything he’d been through and the things he’d seen.
He was hot-headed, impulsive and he took what he wanted when he wanted it. You weren’t complaining, because it made for some fantastic, mind-blowing sex.
Like when he’d taken you out to dinner but midway through the meal he’d decided he’d rather devour you instead, and so he’d pulled you into his lap right there and fucked you gently while he fed you pieces of steak. Luckily, the two of you were in a corner booth. Unluckily, most of the wait-staff had seen, but Ari left them a hefty tip to make sure they never mentioned it again.
Or the time he’d come to pick you up from campus, only to see you talking to one of the boys from your history class. That was the day you’d found out how jealous Ari Levinson was capable of being. He’d slung you over his lap and spanked your ass raw for the better part of the journey home. His limo driver had drawn the partition, and you’d cried until your daddy pulled you upright, kissed your face and told you it way okay.
Or, the time you’d forgot to call him daddy during sex once, which was very much against the rules. Ari wanted you to call him daddy and nothing else when inside the bedroom. Which was why he’d tied you up and aggressively licked your cunt till your legs were shaking and you were on the brink of passing out, and the only word you were able to utter was “daddy.”
Back in the present, Ari allows his pants to drop to the floor along with his boxers, and he gives you a meaningful look.
“Daddy’s had a long day and wants you to suck his dick, sweetheart.”
You sink down to your knees, trying to be sexy about it and you know he appreciates that. You love how he can’t take his eyes off your body, how the lingerie hugs your curves and pushes your breasts up. How tantalising your cleavage looks, especially with you on your knees in front of him. You know Ari loves your body, and loves buying you pretty, revealing things so he can show you off to all his friends and colleagues.
You grab hold of his big dick, throat already hurting at the thought of having that inside your mouth. You loved his dick because it was pretty and brought you so much pleasure, but it was also so insanely big, and Ari loved to make you choke on it. Which happened every time you gave him a blowjob because you still weren’t used to his size, and he preferred you taking all of it in till you couldn’t breathe. You knew he loved it when you couldn’t breathe, when his enormous dick was suffocating you…
“And then after you do that, you’re going to sit on my lap and scroll through my phone till you’ve found some nice things to spend your allowance on. Got that, gorgeous?”
You nod submissively, and Ari smirks. He’s still got his belt in his hand and he loops it around your neck, tightening it till it’s incredibly snug. And just being there, by his feet with a makeshift leash around your neck gets you wetter than it should.
“Such a good little girl,” Ari grunts, grabbing a fistful of your hair as you take his cock into your mouth. Giving Ari a blowjob is always a messy affair, and soon enough, he’s thrusting in and out of your mouth at top speed, muttering profanities while he orders you to keep your eyes on his.
He rubs his dick all over your face, smearing your cheeks and nose with his precum and your own spit. He slaps you across the face with his cock, chuckling breathlessly when you pout because he knows how wet it gets you. And he grabs your hair, pushing you down till your deep-throating him, your nose pressed against his pelvis till you can’t breathe and you begin to flail your limbs.
But his belt around your neck keeps you in place, as does his constant praises “What a good little girl,” “daddy loves how well you take my dick,” “you’re so good for me, baby. So sexy and cute when you’ve got my dick down your throat.”
He cums on your face and doesn’t let you clean it off. He tells you that you look beautiful like this, and then, true to his word, sits you down on his lap and hands you his phone. You scroll through one expensive brand website after another, all while he plays with your lingerie, petting and kissing you how he loves to, and telling you how sexy you are with his cum on your face.
“Sweetheart, if it was up to me, I’d have you in nothing except covered in diamonds, and my cum on your face.”
He immediately orders you an expensive pair of diamond earrings from Cartier (as if you haven’t already got two whole jewellery boxes full of diamonds and pearls and sapphire and what not — all from Ari of course). And then he insists that the earrings were his gift to you, and that you still need to spend your allowance.
After a lot of pouting and grumbling, and some reprimanding smacks to your bottom later, you’ve let him buy you two Chanel handbags, a dress from Versace’s newest Resort collection (not even in stores yet, but Ari had his connections), as well as five new pairs of shoes (all high heels, of course).
“Now was that so hard, baby?”
“I guess not. But I’m gonna run out of space soon, with all the things you keep buying me.”
Ari scoffs, “I have another apartment in the upper east side. You can use it as your shoe closet.”
“You’re really into the heels, aren’t you, daddy?” You tease, twirling your bare legs in the air, your heels catching the light and you feel Ari getting hard again. He grabs your ankle suddenly, pressing kisses up your calf while you gasp and squirm in his lap. His bonded digs at your ass and his hands fondle you everywhere, tugging at your lingerie before he abruptly stops himself.
“Baby, go wait for me inside the bedroom. Everything off except the shoes. And lie on the bed for me with your legs spread out.”
You raise an eyebrow, “That’s awfully specific, daddy—OW!”
He smacks your ass four times in quick succession.
“Go. Now. I’ve got the rest of the day off and daddy plans to fuck your little pussy till I’ve had my fill. Which won’t be any time soon, so take a couple of bottles of water with you too.”
***
JSJDSJSKSKSK THE END IDK I AM IN SYCH A SUGAR DADDY ARI MOOD BYE.
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dirtyvulture · 14 days
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Envy and Venom - Part 2
Heiress!Natasha Romanoff x CEO!Beefy!Fem!Reader
18+ only, read at your own risk
Summary: You are the notorious playboy who just inherited one of the biggest tech companies in the world. Your first move? Sleeping with the heiress of your rival company.
Word count: 4911
AN: Didn't think I'd write this, but the opportunity was too good to let pass. :)
Click here for Part 1!
DAY 2
“I can’t believe you,” Tony says, watching as you anxiously like a caged animal. “I mean, I can, because Romanoff is smoking hot, but really? On your first day?”
“I didn’t know who she was!” you snap, your stomach churning in knots. You hadn’t been able to eat breakfast, even ignoring the hot black coffee your secretary Wanda had waiting for you like usual when you arrived to the office.
“Literally the daughter of the guy of our biggest rival,” Tony says, clearly only trying to make you feel worse than you already feel.
“I know who he is!” you bark, well familiar with Alexei Shostakov, the enormous, bearded and beer-bellied Russian who had once been on the board of directors at Envy Industries. Alexei was long gone from your dad’s company by the time you entered the scene, and at that point had formed Black Widow Corporation into a juggernaut. Word on the street was that Alexei used “unconventional methods” to stay ahead of competitors and now you wondered if you had fallen right into one of those traps. 
“Why was Romanoff even at the party in the first place?” you ask.
“Why do you think?” Tony scoffs. “Daddy probably sent her to mess with you and no offense…but it worked.”
“We don’t know that,” you defend, although your gut is telling you that Tony is right. 
“So, what did you tell her?” Tony asks, kicking his chair back to wobble on its hind legs.
“Nothing!” You sigh, your brain scrambling to remember your interaction with Natasha before you took her up to your suite. “Uh, I mean…I mentioned the contract we have with Tesla. But a bunch of other people probably overhead too, and that’s not exactly a secret anymore.”
“Mhmm, sure. Anything else?” Tony prompts.
“No. No, nothing else,” you say with an edge of uncertainty. “There wasn’t really much time for talking, if you know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I know you, you horndog.” He waves at you.
For once, you feel immensely guilty about not being able to control your behavior. This wouldn’t be the first time you had to face the consequences of the people you chose to take to bed with you, but none had been this jarring or dangerous. You feel used, even though you truly hadn’t revealed any company secrets to Natasha. Just the thought that she knew who you were, and wasn’t honest with you about herself, made your whole interaction with her feel slimy and fake. While you also knew it was ridiculous to think that you were in love with someone you just met, even you won’t deny there had been some kind of spark between you two, but perhaps it had all been manufactured. 
You genuinely want to see Natasha again, hopefully in more honest circumstances, and not just purely for the physical pleasure of it. You knew she was one of the few women on Earth who truly understood your line of work. She didn’t need to pretend (or even study ahead) like some of the partners you had in the past. She was beautiful and smart and managed to turn you into a stuttering, whipped mess in less than ten minutes. No one else had ever been able to do that, and as humbling as it was, it was also hot as hell.
“What am I supposed to do now?” you ask, pulling at the suffocating collar of your shirt. 
“First of all, don’t see her ever again,” Tony responds, and it sounds like he’s telling you you’re not allowed to breathe anymore.
“Fuck,” you grumble, because you know he’s right, but it won’t be that easy to just forget about Natasha. 
“Seriously, Y/N,” Tony goes on. “You have a whole company to run now. Let the media say what they want, but promise me that you won’t be caught with that woman ever again.”
“Caught, you say?” you tease, knowing that he would always offer you a way out.
“I know you,” he repeats. “Besides, I heard she has a sister.”
You laugh, the tense mood lightening considerably. “Yeah, sure, I’ll put in a good word for you when I see her again.”
“You’re the best.” Tony stands up to give you a high-five.
***********************************************************************
Natasha hums to herself as she opens her laptop. She plugs in her headphones and boots up the application that is connected to the microphone she slipped into your jacket pocket. Over 12 hours of audio have already been recorded. Just out of curiosity, she scrolls to the first hour.
“Look how wet you are. You’ve been waiting for this all night, sweetheart?”
“Shut up and let me fuck you.”
Natasha feels her core light up with desire as she remembers the previous night with you. It had been a long time since she had been fucked so well and you certainly lived up to the hype. When she closes her eyes, she can still remember how your body had felt against hers, the way your muscles flexed in warning when you were about to finish but were waiting for her permission, the intoxicating taste that coated her tongue and had her (quite literally) demanding more and more from you.
“Hey, sestra.” Yelena walks in without knocking, and Natasha’s eyes snap open, tearing off her headphones and closing the audio application.
“What?” she growls, annoyed by the interruption.
Yelena smirks at her. “How was the party last night?”
“Good.”
Yelena doesn’t look convinced. “Did you see that TMZ article?”
“Anyone who relies on that hack as a legitimate source of information is just setting themselves up for disappointment.”
“A picture is worth a thousand words,” Yelena states, walking up to Natasha and showing her her phone. 
New CEO of Envy Industries Y/N spotted getting cozy with Black Widow Corp. heiress Natasha Romanoff 
Below the headline is a grainy photo of her almost sitting on your lap, both of your heads leaned close together. 
“What’s your point?” Natasha asks, pushing Yelena’s phone away from her face.
“Did Dad approve of this?”
“What does his approval have to do with anything?” Natasha snaps. “I’m a grown woman, I can do whatever I want with whoever I want–”
“We’re not stupid, Natasha,” Yelena frowns. “And you aren’t either. You aren’t getting mixed up with just anyone, this is the CEO of Envy Industries–”
Natasha waves her hand. “Just stop, Yelena. I know what I’m doing, okay? And I’m the one who’s going to take over the company when Dad steps down, so I need to make sure that we are on top and stay that way.”
Yelena’s expression softens. “Just be careful, sestra. You don’t know what some of these people are capable of.”
“Like Y/N?” Natasha laughs. “She’s just a big rich idiot. I could steal her entire company right from under her nose and she’d just go fill her bed with Victoria’s Secret models and forget it by the next morning.”
“Please be careful, Nat,” Yelena begs. “Do not forget what happened last time–”
“That was in the past. I know better now,” Natasha dismisses, although the hair on the back of her neck rises at the memory. She had been too cocky, too arrogant, and nearly lost her life as a result. But she was certain that wouldn’t happen with you. She had you eating out of the palm of her hand even before the mind-blowing sex. You’d happily hand her the keys to Envy Industries if she promised you five minutes in bed. 
“Don’t worry about me,” Natasha gruffs, turning back to her computer. “Close the door on your way out.”
Yelena doesn’t respond and backtracks. Natasha waits until she hears the click of her door to open the files on her flash drive that contains the data stolen from your systems. None of your files are even password-protected. Maybe your company was even more of a joke than she thought.
***********************************************************************
DAY 14
Tesla backs out of contract with Envy Industries, reportedly in talks with Black Widow Corporation for GPUs
DAY 15
Envy Industries (ENVY) stock drops 15%
Black Widow Corporation (BWC) stock up 10%
DAY 18
Tesla hires Black Widow Corporation to produce hardware for upcoming Model 2
DAY 24
Black Widow Corporation announces AI supercomputer project
DAY 30
Black Widow Corporation (BWC) joins the Magnificent Seven stocks, knocking Envy Industries (ENVY) out
“You need to fix this. Now.”
“I’m trying!” you practically sob, staring at the same headline on your computer that your father is looking at. 
Your first 30 days as CEO had been an absolute whirlwind–of defeats. First, an intern at Tesla had called you to tell you the deal was off. And then to hear that they were taking up business with Black Widow Corporation was like a sucker punch to the gut. No one at your company could understand how Black Widow suddenly had the technology you’d been working on for months, but a nagging feeling in the back of your head told you that you were the only person who knew the answer.
But you couldn’t be one-hundred-percent sure. After all, you had spent one night with Natasha Romanoff, most of it in bed with her getting your brains fucked out. But she had left even before you woke up, and there was no way to confirm if she had managed to get her hands on the confidential information that your company was built upon.
Whatever had happened, Envy Industries was on a steady decline ever since you had taken over and it was not a good feeling. The stock prices were tanking and now you had lost your spot amongst the prized “Magnificent Seven”–also known as the seven highest-valued companies in the United States. It was embarrassing, shameful, and upsetting. The board of directors were having daily meetings about your leadership qualities and you were worried they would boot you from the position any day now. Your father still had some influence, despite stepping down, but with the way he was speaking to you now, you weren’t sure he was going to defend you anymore.  
“I don’t care how Black Widow Corp got the intel. They have it now and we can’t get it back. You need to raise security protocols and if anyone is caught leaking information, they will be publicly humiliated and sued to kingdom come,” your dad rages through the phone. 
“Yes, yes, I agree,” you say.
“You need to focus on recovering from this. What’s done is done. But if you let it get worse, there will be severe consequences. For the company, for its future, and for you.”
“Yes. Yes, Dad,” you gulp.
“Stop fucking around and get your shit together,” he says. “You have a reputation that precedes you and thousands of people are depending on you to see them through this. Envy will come back. Promise me.”
“I promise,” you repeat hollowly, not even convinced of your own words.
“Good girl. We’ll talk later.”
“Okay. Bye, Dad.” You hang up and put your phone face-down on your desk, staring once more at the headline. For the first time, you don’t feel sad, you feel angry. You want to lash out at something–someone. Preferably the person or persons who put you in this predicament. You didn’t deserve this. You hadn’t done anything wrong. But one thing was for certain: you weren’t going to mope around and let them continue to take advantage of you.
There’s a heavy knock on your door.
“Hey, Y/N. Ready for lunch?” It’s Tony.
“Sure. Give me a minute.” You whip your burgundy blazer off the back of your chair with more force than necessary; it gets twisted upside-down and something falls out of the pocket. You squat to pick it up. It’s a black, small, flat circular device that blinks red and there’s tiny little ridges in the center to indicate some kind of microphone.
What the hell is this? you think. You look back at your burgundy jacket. It’s the same one you were wearing the day you were made CEO, the night you met Natasha Romanoff. It wasn’t your most worn jacket, making the occasional appearance if you felt it complimented the rest of your outfit, but spending most of its time hanging in the front of your closet.
A disturbing thought enters your head. This little device couldn’t be what you thought it was, right? But you knew tech better than most people. And you knew that Black Widow Corporation had somehow gotten ahold of confidential information that was causing catastrophic damage to your company.
It takes all of five seconds to formulate a plan. 
You slip the audio recorder back into your pocket and put your jacket on.
Two could play at this game.
“Hey, Tony. Where are we going for lunch?” you call out, trying to keep your voice flat and clear.
“The steakhouse!” But his voice is muffled through the door.
“The steakhouse? The one on 6th Avenue, right?” you ask.
“Unless you suddenly have a new favorite that’s not on 6th,” he grumbles.
“Nope, that’s fine. Let me go check on something in the lab and I’ll be ready.”
***********************************************************************
“What’s wrong with you? Did they get your order wrong?” Tony asks as you poke at the slab of beef on your plate. 
“I’m just not really hungry,” you say. “You know, since our whole company is falling apart and everything.”
“Well, it’s still standing the last time I checked.” You appreciate how straightforward Tony is. Granted, he isn’t under the same kind of pressure as you, but you need someone who can be this cool under pressure in your life. “And I know you can’t be productive on an empty stomach. Should we order those crab legs you like?” 
“No more food please,” you mumble, pushing your plate away from you. “I need to use the bathroom.”
“Hurry back. Or I’ll order the whole appetizer menu!”
“Okay, whatever.” But you smile as you walk away from the table to the back. You look at your reflection in the gold gilded mirror, noticing the clear stress lines in your forehead, the darkness under your eyes, the way your cheeks are more hollowed in because you aren’t eating your usual 4,000 calories a day.
You rinse your hands in the sink and pat water on your face. You hear the door open behind you and your heart starts pounding faster. Had your plan worked?
“What’s wrong, honey?” Her voice snaps you to attention, velvety and seductive just like how you remember hearing it the first time. You turn to see Natasha Romanoff leaned against the wall, wearing a white blouse ready to burst at its buttons along with black slacks and towering heels. Her hair loosely bounces on her shoulders and her exposed wrists and neck are adorned with more jewelry than you can count. 
“You,” you growl, striding over to her in three big steps and glaring down at her. “Are we adding stalker charges to your growing list of crimes now?”
“What are you talking about?” Natasha tilts her head to the side dumbly. “I’m here for lunch, just like you. A coincidence isn’t a crime–”
You pull the little audio device out of your pocket. Natasha’s eyes widen for a second before she quickly turns her expression into one of defiance, but she’s already given away her familiarity. “So this is how you’ve been stealing all of our ideas, huh?” you ask. 
“You have no proof that came from me,” she objects.
“I guess not.” You toss the device to the floor and stomp on it so hard with your Gucci loafers that it crumbles with an audible crunch. “And now we’ll never know. But now you’ll have to leave alone for a little bit, right? You have to give us some time to come up with more ideas for you to steal–”
“It’s nothing personal,” Natasha insists. “Business is business, isn’t it?”
“Well, once you put my reputation at risk–” You move one step closer until your chests almost bump. “–My future at risk–” You lower your head until you’re practically breathing on her face. Natasha doesn’t shy away. In fact, you think you see a glint of triumph in her green eyes. “–It becomes very, very personal.”
The tension between you is so thick it’s suffocating. You refuse to break eye contact with Natasha, but you’re not even sure what your next move should be. You know that you should hate this woman, should be calling for her head and outing her to the media for the literal crimes she’s committed, but you also want her. She hadn’t left your mind since the day you met her and knowing that she had been spying on you this whole time was both infuriating and a little arousing. 
Natasha suddenly grabs onto the front of your shirt, yanking you closer to her until your lips crash together. You hate that the contact makes you feel relief, and you wonder if part of your recent frustration can be attributed to the fact that all this time you were secretly yearning for the same woman who was responsible for ruining your life.
“Things between us are very, very personal,” Natasha whispers, her hands slipping under your shirt to scratch across your abdomen. The coldness of her skin makes you want to cringe away, but her fingers hook onto your belt to keep you from going too far.
“Did you get jealous listening to all the girls I was fucking?” you ask.
“No,” Natasha says, but her cheeks redden and you know she’s lying. “But none of them could make you moan the way I do.”
“I wished they were you,” you admit, panting against her forehead as she undoes your belt. “Which is a fucked up thing to say given what you’ve been doing to my company.”
“I’m very good at what I do, baby,” Natasha says, pressing another hot kiss to the corner of your mouth.
“I’ll make your life hell if you don’t stop fucking with my company,” you growl, but your threat is significantly undermined by the whimper you let out when her fingers trace down the V-line of your hips to your center. 
“Would you rather I fuck you over your company?” she asks.
“Shit,” you gasp, unable to focus on her question when two fingers slip into you. You’re embarrassingly soaked for her, but you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t had wet dreams of letting Natasha Romanoff fuck you ever since your first encounter. You fall back against the wall, panting as she pistons her fingers in and out of you. “Someone might walk in,” you warn, suddenly reminded about the forbiddenness of this relationship.
“I locked the door,” Natasha says, using her free hand to tug down the collar of your shirt so she can lick and kiss the skin of your neck. You bite on your lip to muffle your moan, your hands going to hold her hips roughly, pulling her closer to you. Her fingers curl and her thumb presses hard into your clit. You feel yourself clench tightly around her and your knees are ready to buckle. “For the record, I did miss you too.” 
“What took you so long?” You have no idea how you’re able to hold a conversation with Natasha Romanoff while she fucks you, but here you are. Your hands wander towards her ass, cupping her solidly and almost lifting her off the floor. 
“I had to wait,” she answers simply, her thumb flicking against your clit and your stomach burns with the stimulation. The slick noises of her fingers sliding into you is downright filthy and you rock your hips forward to urge her to move faster.
“What did you…have to wait…for?” you pant. “Your stocks to…overtake…mine?”
“Sure, baby,” Natasha says, nibbling at your collarbone and marking you with a dark hickey. You still have enough consciousness to notice the way she dodges your question. “You want to cum for me?” she asks, pistoning her hand faster.
“Yes, yes, please,” you beg, already on the verge of finishing. You adjust the angle of your hips so she can reach deeper, her fingers brushing past the sensitive ridges that make you see stars with every touch.
“Wait until I say,” she demands and you whine at her dominance. But you’re in no position to negotiate, so you keep your back pressed against the wall, desperately fighting the tidal wave of arousal threatening to crash down. 
“Nat,” you say, your fingers digging hard into her ass, “Please let me–”
“Wait,” she repeats, sounding both annoyed and aroused. She pumps into you harder and faster, until you’re quivering and don’t think you can physically hold back anymore–
“Babe–”
“Cum for me.”
You feel like your body is tearing apart as you explode over her hand, arching your back off the wall, pressing your heaving chest into Natasha’s, heart pounding like you’ve just sprinted through a marathon. Natasha’s thrusts slow as you ride out your orgasm, and as you slump against the wall, she pulls her fingers out and, sticking them into her mouth to suck off your juices. You watch her hungrily, still dizzy from the rush of endorphins. 
“My turn,” you say, hooking your arms under her thighs and her arms loop around your neck. You pick her up effortlessly and shuffle with her into the handicapped stall. This time, Natasha’s back is pinned to the wall as you crash your lips into hers, reigniting the heat between your legs. But you’ve already got your release and you are more than eager to return the favor. 
You pull down her pants and panties, mouth watering at the sight of her glistening center. You crouch down to pick her up again, this time letting her thighs rest on your shoulders so when you stand up, her pussy is perfectly in line with your mouth. Natasha’s hands tangle tightly in your hair as she draws your head towards her center, her calves locking across the back of your neck.
Without needing any more prompting, you pull forward to taste her. Her moans are music to your ears as you lap at her dripping heat, your tongue pressing deeper in search of more. All you can smell is her, all you can taste is her, and all you can think about is her. Natasha is sinful heaven to you and for a few seconds, you let yourself completely forget about how she’s ruining your life.
Suddenly, you hear a knock on the door.
“Hello? Why is this locked?” someone’s voice on the other side says. 
You reach up with your right hand and cover Natasha’s mouth. She bites into the side of your hand and you hiss at the pain.
“Go get one of the staff.”
“You better finish soon,” you hum, nipping at the insides of her thighs while she squirms on your shoulders. “Or the whole world is going to hear me eating you out in here.”
“They should,” Natasha pants, gripping almost painfully at the back of your head, trying to force you back between her legs. “They need to know that you’re all mine, baby.”
You want to tell her that you don’t belong to anyone, and certainly not her of all people, but the protests die in your throat as she squeezes her thighs around your head. You truly are some kind of servant to Natasha Romanoff. Your tongue runs up and down her slit, poking at her throbbing clit as she bucks forward against your face.
“Fuck, take me already,” she whines. 
“So impatient,” you tease. 
“Less talking, more fucking,” she demands.
“Same to you.” You shove your fingers into her mouth to quiet her, and she sucks on them in a way that you try to mirror against her pussy. Wrapping your lips around her clit and thrusting your tongue into her until she’s a puddle in your arms.
“...I don’t know why the door is locked. Let me speak to the manager to get the key.”
Natasha’s whimpers are muted so you have to gauge her reaction by the rest of her body. The way she grips onto your hair like it’s some kind of lifeline. Her walls milk your tongue desperately, slick spilling onto your chin. You don’t think you’ll ever be able to get enough of this woman.
The door clicks open just as Natasha finally comes undone. Your fingers muffle her moans as you quickly lick her clean, wishing you had time to bring her to a second orgasm, but the heels on the floor indicate the two of you are no longer alone. You slowly lower Natasha to the floor, suddenly feeling the burn in your shoulders as you finally relieve yourself of her weight.
“Call me next time you want to fuck someone,” Natasha pulls you in for one final kiss and slips something into your pocket. It’s her business card. 
“We’ll see,” you say, still not exactly sure of this arrangement, but not having the time to hang around and discuss. You leave the stall first, washing off at the sink and slinking out.
***********************************************************************
Natasha waits until you’ve left the bathroom to adjust herself in the mirror. She reapplies another layer of lipstick, smoothing down her blouse and tucking it back into her pants. She struts out of the restaurant, her body tingling in the aftermath of her sexcapade in the bathroom with you.
She steps into the alley adjacent to the restaurant and stands by the overflowing dumpster. She takes your wallet out of her pocket, unfolding it and laughing at the photo on your driver’s license. It was almost disappointing how easy you were. You weren’t cut out to lead a powerful company like Envy Industries. While you might have had the intellect, you clearly could not handle confrontation and even the idea of failure.
Natasha almost feels bad for you, but not bad enough to stop.
She empties the cash from your wallet, the several crisp hundred dollar bills fluttering to the ground. Maybe they’ll make some lucky homeless person’s day. Natasha pockets your heavy metal credit cards, despite having no intention but to use them as paperweights for her office. Then she finds what she’s really after: the solid black card that’s your apartment key. 
Natasha discards your wallet into the dumpster and walks out to the street to be picked up by her driver. 
***********************************************************************
You return to the table, smoothing back your hair and pulling at the newly-formed wrinkles in your shirt. You barely remember to button your shirt back up to your throat to hide the collar of hickeys Natasha left to remember her by.
“You were in there a while,” Tony comments. “You need some Pepto?”
“No, I’m fine.” You sit down, staring at your cold steak while you think. “Can we go now? I have some stuff I need to do.”
“Sure, sure.” Tony calls for the waitress and the check. You slip your phone out to view the location of the tracking device you (literally) implanted into Natasha.
It was a tiny, tiny device, probably about the size of a grain of rice. You could barely feel its weight when you have it balanced on the tip of your finger. 
“This GPS will provide an accurate location down to a meter,” Dr. Pym explains. “Designed and manufactured right here at Envy Industries, so you can rest assured this is the highest quality product you’ll find on the market.”
“Don’t mention this to my dad, will you?” you request, placing the little tracker back in its foam-padded case.
“Of course,” Dr. Pym says. “I answer to you and only you now.”
“Good.”
You weren’t a hundred-percent sure how successful you’d be, but you had tried your best to hold the GPS on your fingertip before sticking your fingers in Natasha’s mouth. Her natural reaction would be to suck and swallow, and you were hoping that the rice-sized GPS would easily find its way down her esophagus into her. 
There was no way she would know about it (or even be able to taste it) in the heat of the moment, and after a few days, it would pass through and the evidence wouldn’t be in her system anymore. You didn’t need more than a few days to track her location and habits. 
With a sigh of relief, you see the red dot on the map indicating that she’s still waiting by the street side of the restaurant, probably for her driver. You can’t help but chuckle to yourself, wondering what Natasha would say when she realizes you’re willing to play just as dirty as her.
The waitress boxes up your steak and hands it to you in a paper bag. You and Tony leave through the back entrance to the cramped parking lot and you wait until you’ve climbed into his Aston Martin to say, “Are you still in touch with that…uh…Buck guy?”
Tony is quiet for a moment. “Oh, you mean Bucky? Yeah, I see him from time to time. Why?”
You’ve never made a request like this before in your life, and you know the moment you do, it’s going to change everything. You take a deep breath, fighting the anxiety in your chest.
“I need him to get me a gun.”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
AN: It's getting very hot in here. :) To be continued? 👀
Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰
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hello how are you it if my first time asking but what do you think it would be like if white beard had a daughter and she went on shanks crew like he haven’t seen his daughter for years and then he see her on shanks crew
also I love you writing you my favvvv
Imagine being Whitebeard's daughter on Shanks's crew
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A mildly naughty bit under the undercut. Also, I'm having to change how I indicate action, instead of using Asterix *, I'm going to change them to [ ].
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Marco: Pops, Shanks's ship is on the horizon, signaling they wanna talk-yoi.
Whitebeard: [rolls his eyes,] Fine let him aboard.
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As the Red Force is pulling itself parallel to the Moby Dick
Whitebeard: [spots you working on the rigging] (y/n)?!
You: dukes [knows you're going to be in trouble, so you try to duck into the galley to avoid him]
Whitebeard: Young Lady, I fucking saw you, don't try to hide from me! Come here.
You: [shuffles in front of him] Hi Pops
Izou: oi, oi, don't go getting familiar with him.
Whitebeard: [holds up his hand] No, it's okay, this one is my biological child.
Ace: You have a bio kid? Why didn't you tell us!?
Whitebeard: I was trying to keep her safe, [turns to you and gives you a pointed look,] which is why I left you on Sphinx, where it's safe.
You: It was boring, so I snuck aboard the supply ship, that you send us every month, and hopped out at the nearest port.
Whitebeard: That supply ship is captained by Doma!
Thatch: Shall I go draft a summons letter sent to him?
Whitebeard: yes, thank you. [Turns back to you,] You should have stayed on Sphinx. Yes, it's boring, but that's because it's peaceful. Do you have any idea how rare and valuable peace is? Why would you leave?
You: Because I wanted more! I wanted to see the world! I wanted to fight strong opponents! Because I'm your kid!
Marco: [mutters loud enough for Whitebeard to hear.] Personality is fifty percent genetic.
Whitebeard: [Ignores him.] I understand that... urge to see the world. But why him! [Jabs a finger in Shank's direction]
Shanks: What's wrong with me?
Benn: [pats his captain's head] We've been wondering that for years.
You: He makes me laugh.
Shanks: [puffs up his chest with pride and cheekily sticks his tongue out at Benn]
Whitebeard: Please tell me you aren't in love with this misfit.
You: Sorry, I can't help who I fell in love with, [shrugs.] He makes me happy, and he treats me well.
Yassop: [yells from the deck of the Red Force] That's an understatement! He spoils her rotten, and she gets first dibs on any treasure we get. And he buys her anything she wants.
Whitebeard: [rubs his chin thoughtfully] First dibs, huh?
You: I also send funds home, back to Sphinx.
Whitebeard: I suppose I'll allow it, then.
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That evening
The Crews: [have somehow started a boat party]
Shanks and Whitebeard: [chatting around a table ladened with food]
You: Daddy, will you pass the rum?
Shanks and Whitebeard: [reach for it, accidentally touch hands, and lock eyes]
the crews: ʱªʱªʱª(ᕑᗢूᓫ∗)
Shanks: (☼Д☼) !! *Books it for his ship*
Whitebeard: [hot on his heels] AKAGAMI!
Marco: wow
Benn: That was a mean thing to do, (y/n).
You: ଘ(✿˵•́ ω •̀˵) ? I didn't do anything, [lying].
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doeidawn · 2 months
Text
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☁︎ — 896 words of possessive Price; gender-neutral, nsfw 18+ (MDNI)
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Price always told himself he wasn’t a jealous person. He knew what he had, knew what was his, and he was perfectly fine keeping it to himself. He wasn’t one to bare his soul or brag. The sense of superiority was lost on him. 
Until you came along.
It was evident even before you were together; he had to be the one to take up your time. He had to be the one to make you smile. He had to be the one you came to when you needed help. He had to be the one you chose to bother. And while he never bragged about it, just knowing that others were aware—that other people knew that you chose him—gave him a sense of adrenaline that no battlefield could ever compare to.
But no, he told himself, he’s not possessive. 
He just wanted everyone else to know you enjoyed his company. That you thought highly of him.
Then came the physicality of it all. At the first confirmation of a relationship—something beyond formality—it grew harder to hold back. A man who prided himself on his resolve fumbled completely just at the mere sight of you. 
It started with fleeting touches and lingering glances. Innocent hands on shoulders and waist, fingers brushing over fingers, a quick peck on the cheek. The mindless need to feel your skin against his whenever convenient.
It was almost subconscious the way it evolved. Suddenly, whenever another person entered the room, his hand landed somewhere on your body. Arm, thigh, hand, shoulder—it didn’t matter. Then it became kisses whenever another was in the line of sight just for the satisfaction that they might notice him press his lips to yours. As if saying to the world “this one is with me”.
Price was not possessive. He was just…proud of you. 
And wasn’t an old man allowed to be proud? You were quite the sight to behold, after all. Even if he wanted the only eyes on you to be his own. 
And right now, they were.
He was the only one who got to see you like this: sweaty and trembling, panting and drooling from swollen lips, bare skin flushing red. He rocked into you with every ounce of his being, taking and giving in equilibrium.
Every shudder, every scratch of your nails along his back, every pulse of your body around him was his. He earned it from you. No one else.
His brain was on autopilot now (had been since the first time you came around him) and no ounce of common sense could halt him when his mouth attacked the bare expanse of your neck. Wet lips and hungry teeth grazed your skin, bruising and imprinting his mark onto you.
He barely registered the sound of your voice when you panted against him. “John…” you croaked, voice quivering as the coarse hair of his beard skimmed along your neck. “You’re gonna…fuck—people are gonna s—”
“Let them.” He didn’t give you the chance to finish the thought—no, the warning—that had the foresight to cross your mind. “I fucking hope they see.”
Perhaps leaving your skin littered with love bites and the imprint of his teeth wasn’t the smartest way to keep attention off of you. But he didn’t care right now. He couldn’t deny that a sick part of him thrilled at the thought of someone noticing the trail of red marks at the crook of your neck. 
His marks. From his mouth.
His cock twitched at the thought. His thrusts picked up speed, hands snaking around your waist to hold you tightly. Whether it was to keep you in place or to remind himself that you were really here, he wasn’t sure anymore. 
He was relentless, desperate and needy for something only you could give him. He silences your wanton moans by pressing his lips against yours. Moans that were just for him.
He barely pulls back to mutter against your mouth. “You're mine.” His hot breath mingles with yours, wet lips gliding against each other. “All fucking mine. Say it, baby, c’mon—tell me you’re mine.”
He needed it more than anything. If the conviction in his voice wasn’t enough to convince you, the desperation in his eyes certainly was. 
You nodded with what room he granted you. Your hands found their way to his cheeks, fingers threading through his beard as you cradled his head. “Yes. I’m yours. I’m all yours, John.”
The sound that came from him next was one you never heard before. Like a whine and a growl mixed into one—a declaration of his ownership and the neediness that fueled it. He buried his face into your neck as his body tensed. The nearly incoherent mess of your name and the word “mine” was panted hotly against your skin, caressing the indents his teeth had left beforehand.
Neither of you moved for a while afterward. Even after breathing steadied and sweat dried, both of you were content to lay just like that: with his hands wrapped tightly around your body in a wordless plea.
Those marks lasted for a while. He hadn’t realized how hard he bit and sucked until the bruises began cycling through colors as they healed. His eyes landed on them every time he saw you. And God how he hoped other people did the same.
Maybe Price was a little possessive.
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fellshish · 5 months
Note
I honestly don’t understand the feral response to Bildad the Shuhite. He’s literally just Crowley with a big red beard
Exactly! You said it! He’s crowley with a big red beard!!
But all jokes aside. There’s just something so uniquely hot about him. It’s not just the look. His adorable, goofy smile. It’s more.
It’s relatively early in their lifetimes and there’s not yet something you can call a friendship. He’s fighting a hidden fight: trying to keep hell pleased while doing as much as he can to live according to his own morals. He’s saving goats. He’s saving children. He’s having fun. There’s still tragedy behind the smile — he’s so incredibly lonely. There is so much love inside him but if he shows it to anyone he risks punishment. Hell doesn’t send rude notes.
Then he meets aziraphale again. He’s still doing the little play. The one man show of the evil demon. But he’s letting the mask slip. Allowing aziraphale to peek behind. And when aziraphale cries, he drops it completely. He’s lonely, he admits, but we can be — together. The two of us. He’s risking it all just to comfort an angel.
This is the most straightforward we’ve seen him be, about what he is, how he acts. Bildad is when the core of crowley is closest to the surface, and therefore the most vulnerable.
And that’s sexy.
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gatorbites-imagines · 4 months
Note
If you're interested I'd like to request some ftm Mihawk X service top Male reader, like goddam I really wanna worship this man and eat him out/mark him 😭
Ftm Dracule Mihawk x male reader
Headcanons
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I love Mihawk, hes one of the few one piece characters I can look at and think “he definitely smells good”. I was listening to dark academia when writing this, since I felt it fit Mihawk.
Mixed terminology for Mihawks bits, like usual.
Mihawk carries a lot of stress in his day-to-day life, I mean, how couldn’t be. He doesn’t show it, at least not to those who don’t know him. But as his partner, you can spot it immediately when he’s more tense than usual.
There is nothing you love more than to make Mihawk feel good, which results in many people thinking you are some kind of lovesick fool. (for some reason I imagine Gomez and Morticia Addams in this dynamic)
Many thing Mihawk is cold, aloof and emotionless, that he doesn’t return your strong emotional acts, but you know he has his own ways to show his love. Like the way he lets you take care of him and puts down his defenses around you, in the way he caresses your cheek in the morning, or how he brings you small trinkets from his travels.
You cant help but yearn to make Mihawk feel as good as you possibly can, especially on days where he clearly needs to let off some steam.
It starts with a bath of the highest quality, with Mihawks favorite scents and soaps, where you’ll even go as far as wash his hair and beard for him, massaging at his tense shoulders and arms.
Massages has become one of the easiest ways to make Mihawk unwind, as he only lets you do it, so his body immediately knows its safe and that he doesn’t need to be on guard when you massage him.
He does grumble and give you a half-hearted glare when you start nipping and sucking hickeys on his neck and arms, calling you a possessive bastard, especially when you keep leaving hickeys where everyone can see as he goes around shirtless.
In the earlier period of your relationship, he would never allow it, but nowadays he lets you pick him up out of the bathtub, dry him off, even lets you rub his favorite lotion into his skin.
If you end up sliding to your knees between his thighs when he’s sitting on the counter, who but you two would know. Mihawk has never been much of a moaner or for making noise in general, but you can always see that your loving and caring touches lights a fire in him, as he’s always wet on your fingers when you rub them through his folds.
He leans back against the mirror as you lick and suck at his cock and folds, experience guiding you in the best ways to make his thighs quiver and breath stutter.
Only after hes cum will you pull back, wiping your mouth and picking your swordsman back up, moving him into the bedroom and laying him down on the silky sheets that cover the huge bed you guys share.
As much as Mihawk wants to keep going from where you left off in the bathroom, you just spread him out and go off to grab the massage oil, rolling him onto his front so you can start actually working into his back.
Mihawk always feels your erection pressing against the small of his back as you knead at his tight muscles, something inside him feeling hot and gooey at the knowledge that you are so aroused, but you always want to take care of him more.
You take the chance to leave more bites and hickeys as you work down his back and to his legs, spreading his thighs apart so you can rub at them too. Of course, you take the chance to lift his hips a bit and lick through his folds again, causing Mihawk to gasp into the sheets.
The fact that you are the only person to see Mihawk Dracule like this, splayed out across the sheets and so relaxed, muscles lax and hips rolling lazily back against your tongue, almost has you bursting right then and there.
As you keep eating him out, you rub down as much of his legs as you can, pulling away from his cunt with a string of fluids connecting your tongue and his heat so you can scoot down and rub down his feet too, much to Mihawks annoyance.
Rolling him onto his back, you do the same to his front, making sure to kiss at his top surgery scars and leave bites down his stomach, before sucking his cock between your legs as you hike on of his legs over your shoulder.
Mihawk is a vision as he basks in pleasure, arms tucked under his head and eyes half lidded as they look down at you. He looks soft and pliable, but somehow still so powerful, even as he lets you pretty much worship him with your hands and mouth.
Its only after he mumbles for you to get on with it that you slide fingers into him, crooking them just the way he likes as you roll his cock in lazy circles with your tongue, the flat side of your tongue rubbing the bundle of nerves enough to send a tingling feeling up his spin.
As you open him up, you make sure to mumble compliments, about how strong he is, how much you love him and his body, how much you think about him and crave him whenever he is away.
All this praise and touching culminates in a second orgasm, starting slowly in his stomach and warming over time, as you of so lazily draw it out of him, your movements and actions having no rush even as he gasps, thighs clamping down on either side of your head.
As he calms down from the orgasm, you move away from his crotch to press kisses against his lower stomach instead, rubbing a loving hand up and down his thigh so as to not overstimulate him.
At some point Mihawk grabs onto your hair and pulls at it, pulling you up on top of him instead, hooking his legs around your hips as he stares at you intensely. Theres no need for words to express what he wants, especially as his pupils are bigger than normal, and there’s a flush to his cheeks.
Your pants and boxers are easily kicked off to the floor, and after slipping on a condom, you carefully push inside his slit, all the prep and work to make him relax easing the way, making it easy for you to bottom out.
What you two experience is more like the act of making love, compared to fucking. Hips rolling in slow loose thrusts, lips pressing together in an open-mouthed kiss as you breathe one another in as hands explore and grab at whatever flesh they can find.
There is no hurry, like there has been no hurry the entire night, its all about making Mihawk feel good in your eyes, your own need for orgasm completely leaving your mind, or maybe having never even been present in the first place.
The third orgasm Mihawk experiences has his eyes clenching shut, mouth dropping open into a beautiful O shape, as soundless moans tremble out of him, cunt gripping tighter onto your shaft as he shudders through it.
His toes curl and fingers dig into your back, Mihawk almost forgetting to breathe until you remind him, making him gasp. You almost want to pull out, since your own end means nothing, but Mihawks legs stay locked around your hips, rocking you in and out of him.
Your orgasm leaves your vision going black for a second or two, the feeling washing through you like a wave as you grunt and cling closer to your lover, filling the latex wrapped around your shaft with a moan, mixed with yet another mumble of praise for the man you love.
You two stay pressed up against each other for a while, just basking in the others presence, until it starts to get uncomfortable.
Pulling out, you discard of the soiled condom, and go about cleaning up, getting new sheets on the bed, and wiping your lover down as he lays lax and half asleep, though Mihawk is never fully asleep until you crawl back into bed with him.
Its only times like this that he gets to completely relax, falling asleep against your side as you caress his hair and rub his back. Its some of the best sleep Mihawk ever gets, knowing that you are there to love him and care for him. The multiple orgasms also help with putting him to sleep.
Its only after Mihawk is completely asleep that you close your eyes. You never go fully to sleep, keeping some of your consciousness alert, just in case you’ll end up needing it. Its mainly to allow Mihawk to get the deep sleep he needs, without having to worry about keeping his guards up himself. And you’ll do anything for your partner.
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straykeedz · 2 months
Text
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐭 ; 𝐡𝐡𝐣
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just a lil drabble i wrote bc hyunjin's live got me in a chokehold, hope you enjoy!
posting this again bc it flopped the first time... don't let it flop!
𝐭𝐰: female anatomy ; kinda sub!hyune ; semi-public sex (one of the boys is mentioned to be in the dorm) ; unprotected piv sex (don't!) ; clit play ; creampie ; brief nipple play ; cum eating ; ♡
𝐰𝐜: 1,7k ;
this is nari's (aka @jilixthinker) review if you even care 🥺:
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You step inside the room as soon as “the live has ended” sign pops up on your phone screen. 
He’s sitting there with his phone in his hand, probably checking something or catching up to the memes and other stuff the boys sent him, because he’s giggling, biting on his fingernail. He looks even hotter than he did when he was live, hair all messy and collarbone exposed. 
“Can I come in?” You break the silence, your question followed by a soft knock on the door. 
“Flower, hey,” Hyunjin’s head snaps up in your direction and a smile spreads on his beautiful features, “sure you can. Did you watch the live?”
You nod, catching him a little off guard when you sit down on his knees - well, you’re not exactly sitting on him, you’re practically mounting him, your knees on each side of his waist. He puts his phone away immediately. “I did,” you murmur, running your fingers up and down his exposed forearms, then his wrists, then intertwining your fingers together. “You were cute.”
Hyunjin blushes a little, he always does whenever you compliment him, your pretty boy. 
“I was?” He asks, flustered, avoiding your gaze. You let go of his hands and he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you slightly closer. 
“Hm-mh,” you hum, gaze dropping to where his silver necklace rests on his exposed clavicle. “Very cute,” you murmur, placing a kiss on his jawline, your lips brushing the hint of spiky beard that is slowly starting to grow back, “but also very sexy.” You kiss his neck and Hyunjin, beneath you, shivers. 
“S-Sexy?” He swallows the lump in his throat, tightening the grip on your waist, “but… I wasn’t doing anything, flower.”
You huff against his skin, leaving an open-mouthed kiss on his exposed collarbone. “Please,” you roll your eyes at him even though he can’t see you, “all the lip biting, hm? And the running your hand through your hair?”
Hyunjin gasps when you suck on his neck. “I wasn’t trying to be sexy.”
“Pf, sure.”
You take your time kissing his neck, licking the soft skin until you capture his heavy, silver necklace between your teeth. Your fingers toy with the ends of Hyunjin’s hair, tugging at it slightly, and he moans out loud while you feel him getting hard right between your legs. Just like you planned. You roll your hips to grind on his visible erection, and Hyunjin’s hands grip your hips a bit tighter as if to stop you. 
“We shouldn’t be here. One of the boys could burst in anytime. Let’s go to my room.”
“But I wanna have my fun here,” you bite his shoulder, “where everyone could interrupt us any moment. See you all whiny and desperate for me, how you beg and yearn for my touch.”
Hyunjin whimpers. “What’s gotten into you?” He doesn’t protest when you slip your hand under his oversized sweatshirt, your fingers brushing his navel and happy trail until they reach the button of his grey jeans. 
“You. You’re a tease, and you know it,” you undo the button and pull down the zipper. “Got me all wet and hot with your… whatever the hell it was. Had to press my thighs together to stop myself from shaving my hand down my pants, but I’m pretty sure Jisung figured out something was up with me.”
“Jisung?” Hyunjin squeezes your ass, giving in to his instincts. 
“Hm, we were watching tiktoks together,” you keep kissing his neck. “This,” you tug at his sweatshirt, “off. Now.”
He nods. “Okay, okay.”
You reluctantly pull away from him, allowing Hyunjin to cross his arms over his torso and pull his sweater off, letting it fall on the floor without a care in the world. He’s not wearing anything underneath it, not even the slutty tank tops they always wear. You’re met with the sight of his bare torso and his nipples, hard due to the cold temperature in the room - it’s okay, it’ll get hot eventually. The silver necklace, which resembles of a chain, kind of makes him look like a bad boy. Had he kept his eyebrow piercing on, he’d look like he came straight out of a punk rock band - messy hair and everything. 
“Always so obedient…” you capture his swollen lips in a quick kiss, “be good for me now and take your cock out.”
He whines when you get up, only to pull your pajama shorts down your legs together with your underwear. You don’t take off your t-shirt, though - one of Hyunjin’s t-shirts, actually, and your favorite one. He fidgets with his jeans, lifting his body from the chair to slide them down his legs, just enough to free his hard cock and twitching balls. 
“Now wet it.”
He spits on his palm and jerks his cock off a couple of times, making sure there’s his saliva all over it. Then, you get on top of him once again and you start rubbing yourself on his length, and he’s confused. “You’re not taking this off?” He tugs at the t-shirt. You shake your head as a no, continuing to rub your clit on the tip of his cock. “But I wanna see your tits…” he kind of pouts. Cute. 
“Aw,  sweetheart…” you lift your hips to position his cockhead at your entrance, “not tonight. ‘M putting it in now, try not to cum after ten seconds this time, hm?” You tease him, and he rolls his eyes. 
“It happened once, and you’d been teasing me for- shit,” Hyunjin pants when you sink onto his length slowly. He grips your hips so tight the tips of his fingers turn white. 
“It happened twice,” your pussy swallows him wholly, his length filling you up just nice. Hyunjin pouts.  “’t’s okay, though. ’s cute how whipped you are for me.”
“And you’re not whipped for me?”
You giggle at that. “Yeah, very much,” you lift your hips again, and Hyunjin gasps, “enough with the talking now. Be good and take it,” you ease yourself onto his length slowly, the way he likes it. “And try to be quiet. Jisung’s still in the living room.”
Easier said than done, Hyunjin thinks. In fact, he has to bite on his lip so hard he can almost taste blood in his mouth to hold back his moans and whimpers and all kinds of sounds that are threatening to escape his mouth. 
“Please, just… let me see them,” he begs. He’s referring to your tits. “Need to see them so bad.”
“Nuh-uh,” you shake your head, moving up and down his length again and again and again. 
“Please,” he whines. 
“Let’s make a pact,” you tell him, rolling your hips and rubbing your clit against his skin - it’s not enough to get you off, but it feels nice nonetheless. “I’ll show you my tits, but you can’t touch them. If you touch them, you won’t be cumming.”
“What?”
“Thought you wanted to see them so bad,” you quote him. “Too ba-“
“Fine. Fine, just- lemme see them,” he whimpers trying to put off his already impending orgasm. His eyes widen comically when you take your shirt off and he sees your tits bounce. Oh, how is he supposed to fight the urge to touch them, to wrap his lips around your nipples? 
“You love my tits so much, don’t you, sweetheart?” You latch your lips on his neck, moving even faster as if to torture him. You’re pretty sure you’re breaking some physics law right now, fucking on a chair like there’s no tomorrow. 
Hyunjin nods. “You’re the pretties woman I’ve ever seen. The prettiest flower.”
You love it when he praises you and worships you - Hyunjin treats you nothing but the goddess you are, and he always makes you feel incredibly sexy and hot. And you may or may not have a praise kink, so his words have you getting even wetter - if you close your eyes and focus, you can almost taste your orgasm. 
“Fuck. Shit, do that thing again,” you tell him, breath becoming quicker, “with your fingers.” Hyunjin runs his hand through his hair, disheveling it in the sexiest way he knows. You ride him faster. You wrap your fingers around his necklace and pull slightly, allowing Hyunjin to get closer so you can kiss him. His lips suppress all of your moans. “Yeah, yeah, that’s it. ‘M gonna cum. Rub my clit.”
He uses the pad of his thumb to get you off, wetting it with the mixture of his saliva and your juices that’s coating his cock. He manages to get you off in seconds, and when you eventually cum, you hide your face in the crook of his neck and bite on his necklace as you pant, continuing to ride him as you try to come off your orgasm. 
“Can I too? Need- need to cum,” he whines pathetically. 
You pull back only to look him in the eye. “Fill me up.” 
He shivers, and doesn’t even have the time to say anything else, because his orgasm washes all over him in a matter of instants, catching him by surprise. And since he already came, it can’t hurt to infringe your pact, right? So he shoves his face in your chest and stuffs his mouth with one of your nipples, starting to suck on it desperately, running his hot tongue all over it. 
“Insatiable,” you comment with a sigh, shaking your head. “Thought we agreed on something. Might have to teach my sweetheart a lesson.”
He lets go of your nipple, his eyes meeting yours - he looks completely fucked out. He tilts his head to the side, not fully grasping what you mean. You lift your hips just enough to allow his cum to spill out of your hole, then bring your fingers to your pussy to coat them in his sperm. He gave you a generous load. 
“Open up,” you bite your lip, tapping Hyunjin’s mouth with your cum-coated fingers. He looks at you with a surprised look on his face. “What? Thought you liked having your mouth stuffed. Now be good and taste yourself, hm?”
He opens his mouth, and you dip the tip of your fingers inside - just the tip for now, watching mesmerised the way his own sperm falls on his tongue and fills his mouth. He winces, probably because he dislikes the taste, or maybe because he likes it. You push your fingers inside by another inch, he wraps his lips around them. 
“Good boy, lick ‘em clean,” you praise him, and he whimpers. “And when you’re done with my fingers, there’s a crempied pussy for you to eat.”
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-> 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦. 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞.
-> 𝐦𝐲 ☕️
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poeticallyspiteful · 10 months
Note
Hi there.
Maybe a newt x f reader where reader its a healer ( doctor) . reader was a friend of theseus and they were working on a case from the Ministry of magic. Thank you so much ❤️
kiss it better
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newt scamander x reader
fluff (making out)
cw: unedited, blood, a lil bit of ~suggestiveness~/(okay a lot a bit of suggestiveness i write like a romance novelist sometimes lol sorry not sorry), making out, newt is ripped and hot as hell
summary: newt gets injured and theseus knows the perfect person to kiss it better.
notes: thank you so much for the request love!!! i wasn’t sure exactly what you were looking for with this one so i just used my imagination so i do hope you like it. feel free to request something more if you don’t though :))
16+ please!!
“theseus, this is ridiculous, let go of me.”
it was a small cut, just a little one. a small mishap with alone of his creatures, that was all. such a tiny little ailment.
“it is bleeding profusely and goes all the way across your stomach, newt!” theseus exclaimed, pulling his brothers coat sleeve like a child dragging their parents through a candy store. “she’s very nice, you know that.”
oh, newt knew you were nice— that was the problem. you were so nice, so pretty, so incredibly everything that newt could hardly bare it. years and years of friendship with you and he could hardly even contain his joy at the sound of your laugh, at the mere sight of you. it made it hard to breathe, hard to think, hard to exist when all he could focus on was you.
“you’re working a case, theseus,” newt sighed, allowing his brother to pull him up the stairs to your apartment. “she’s probably reviewing files or something, it would be rude to interrupt her work.”
but the scamander brothers were already outside your door, and theseus was already knocking. before newt could brace himself for the wave of love sickness that would inevitably hit him the second he saw you, the door swung open and there you were; nice, pretty, perfect.
“hi newt, theseus,” you greeted, chest heaving (you may have ran across the apartment the second you’d heard their voices coming down the hall) “what can i— oh merlin’s beard.”
newt looked down, unsurprised to see the blood had seeped through his white shirt. he gave you a lopsided smile and you rolled your eyes, a pitiful attempt to avoid eye contact with the boyish man before you.
“come inside.”
theseus all but shoved newt inside, already straightening out his suit and brushing the left over floo powder off of his shirt. he looked up to you and his brother, unphased by the confused look on your faces.
“well, i best be off.”
you gawked at him. “your— your not going to stay?” you asked. he shook his head. “theseus! your brother is injured and you’re leaving?”
“we have a case!”
“it’s really okay,” newt said, bashfully, suddenly reminding you of the reason they were there.
scoffing, you turned back to newt, waving your friend off. “workaholic,” you murdered as you began searching for your emergency bandage kit.
and with that, theseus shut the door— but not before sending his brother a mischievous wink. newt felt a shiver down his spine.
sneaky bastard.
you finally found the small red box, pulling it open and rifling through it for a disinfectant and some gaws, as well as a mini suture kit.
glancing up at newt through your eyelashes, you hummed expectantly. “shirt off,” you ordered, some foreign sort of confidence surging through you.
newt swore all the brain cells left his mind. “pardon?” he chocked, suddenly not too concerned with his injuries.
“i can’t exactly fix you through the shirt. now c’mon, we don’t have all day,” you explained.
quickly, newt obeyed, shedding his baggy coat and undoing the bloodied buttons. very quickly, he felt exposed, but the bashful look on your face made him feel more smug than anything.
you had never seen newt shirtless before now, but my lord, did you wish the sight to be engraved in your mind till the day you died. you could see the viens that traveled up his tanned arms, and as shocked to see his biceps had been rather toned under that jacket all this time. his freckles spanned all down his chest and arms as well, dancing around the thin scars across him.
for a man so cute and clever, he was sure an enthralling sight to see.
clearing your throat, you finally looked down at the wound intently, relieved to see it didn’t look like too hard of a fix. with some shallow sutures and cleaning, he’d be better in no time.
“not too bad,” you murmured without thinking, entire body going cold at the implication. shit. the clever smile on newts face grew. “i— i meant the cut isn’t too bad, doesn’t look, y’know, infected.”
“good,” newt agreed, leaning back on his arms. his abdomen tensed at the movement and he hissed at the pain. “ouch.”
before you could look at him too closely, or think too much apparently, you knealt down infront of him. however, as he opened his legs to allow you space between them, you realized the predicament you’d put yourself in.
holy fucking shit.
you looked up hesitantly, feeling your heart race at the way newt looked down at you; nervous and kind, like he was just as surprised by your position as you were.
“this might sting a little,” you announced, trying to redirect his (and yours) attention back to the real reason you were on your knees.
carefully, you wiped the cotton pad across the cut, cleaning up the blood around the wound. newt hissed again, hands gripping the blanket laid across your couch. you had to will yourself to keep your eyes on the wound.
“almost done,” you reassured, finally looking up to see newts eyes screwed shut in pain. quickly, you dabbed at the far end of the wound, bringing your hands down quickly. “all done.”
newt sighed in relief, swallowing roughly. he glanced down to his stomach, feeling his head buzz as you looked back up at him. “whatcha thinking, doc?” he teased.
you could’ve died at the irony. you could not tell him what you were thinking right now.
“well, it’ll only need a few stitches at the edges there on the left, but it should be fine otherwise. just some bandages and you’ll be good,” you answered.
“no magic?” he asked.
“sadly, my regulations to do these sorts of healing charms only spans as far as britain,” you replied. “i’m working on getting the papers here in the states, but for now, just my handy work.”
newt smiled, another grin which made you weak in the knees. “your handy work is quite good.”
you ignored the heat in your face from the praise as you began you sutures. you felt newt shiver under your hands as they fluttered across his stomach, tracing the stitches and looking for any imperfections. finally satisfied with the stitching, you taped some bandages across them, and stood up once you were done. three easy steps, and nothing went wrong—
as you took a step back, you stumbled over the edge of your rug, fumbling backwards as you tried to regain your balance. before you realized what had happened, you felt newts hands on the back of your thighs, pulling you forward.
and forward was onto his lap.
you had spoken too soon.
you caught yourself with a tight grip on his bare shoulders, the skin soft and hot under your hands. your face was barely an inch from his, and your eyes met his in a brief moment of panic.
“s-sorry, i just didn’t want you to hit your head on the coffee table,” newt whispered, eyes darting form your eyes to your lips and back again nervously. he seemed very regretful of his action at first, but he didn’t budge to move you off of him, hands gripping the flesh around your hips.
“t-thank you,” you stammered, gathering all your strength not to squirm in his arms, your heart beating faster than your blood could pump.
newts eyes found yours again, thumbs making small circles in your hip bone. “have i ever told you that you’re very pretty?” the low rasp of his voice could’ve made you faint on any ordinary day, but given that you were practically straddling him, nothing could’ve made you more lightheaded. “especially up so close.”
“newt,” you whispered.
“what, love?”
“please kiss me.”
newt closed the gap without a second thought, kissing you gently. his lips were soft, but needy, pulling away and coming back for more over and over and over again. his hands traveled from your hips all the way up to your head, resting on your jaw. you moved your hands up his neck, playing with the curls on the nape.
you whined as he pulled away entirely, pulling him impossibly closer to yourself. “why’d you stop?”
“isn’t there a rule about strenuous activities post surgery?” he teased, laughing as he pressed another kiss to your lips briefly; he had waited too long to do this and he didn’t wanna stop now. “making out seems pretty strenuous to me.”
“i’ll kiss it better.”
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