#then i traced him then replaced him with this and made it look cool

[elfireblogyes]

SIGHTING.

yo did you see that?

[lxndonorris]

a perfect summer break - Charles Leclerc

Charles Leclerc x Y/N Theme: a little bit of everything, mostly fluff spending time on Charles's yacht during the summer break with a wet surprise for Charles x word count: 3415+ taglist: @game-set-canet open for requests :)

The Mediterranean sun shines brightly in the cloudless sky, casting a golden glow across the still waters. The only sounds are the gentle lapping of the waves against the yacht and the occasional cry of a seagull soaring high above. It is the perfect day—warm, peaceful, and serene—the kind of day made for relaxation and enjoying life's little pleasures.

Inside the luxurious cabin of the yacht, you stretch lazily, the feeling of pure contentment filling every fiber of your being. The smell of saltwater mixed with the faint scent of sunscreen lingers in the air, a comforting reminder that you're far away from the bustling world of Formula 1. It's summer break, and there's no better way to spend it than out here on the open sea, alone with the person you adore.

You take a moment to appreciate the opulence around you. The yacht, sleek and modern, in a world unto itself, with every amenity one could desire. The cabin is cool and shaded, a stark contrast to the heat outside. But while the interior is lovely, it's the world beyond that calls to you—the endless blue of the ocean, the warmth of the sun, and, of course, Charles.

You slip into a light cover-up and head out of the cabin, your bare feet padding softly across the wooden deck. The sound of the sea becomes more pronounced as you open the door, and your heart skips a beat as you see him—Charles Leclerc, your boyfriend—standing at the edge of the yacht, his hands casually on the railing.

He looks stunning, as always. His swim shorts hug his lean, toned body, accentuating the muscles he's worked so hard to maintain. A few pieces of jewelry—a necklace, a couple of rings, and his ever-present sunglasses—glint in the sunlight, adding to his effortlessly cool demeanor. The sun casts a warm glow on his skin, though you notice he's starting to turn a bit red. 

Despite the slight burn, he looks utterly relaxed, his usual intensity replaced with a rare tranquility.

Charles is gazing out at the horizon, lost in thought, when you step closer. His hair, tousled by the sea breeze, flutters lightly, and the corners of his mouth curve up as if he senses your approach. 

The sight of him like this, so calm and content, fills you with a warm affection. You move silently, your fingers itching to touch him, to close the distance between you.

When you finally reach him, you gently run your hand along his broad shoulders, feeling the heat of his skin under your fingertips. Charles tenses slightly at the unexpected touch, then relaxes, a soft hum escaping his lips as your hand trails down his spine and along his waist.

He turns his head slowly, and you're greeted by that irresistible smile—the one that makes your heart flutter no matter how many times you've seen it.

"Hey, beautiful," he murmurs, his voice soft and full of affection.

You smile back, your fingers still tracing lazy patterns on his back. "Hey, you. Enjoying the sun?"

"Mmm, always," he replies, leaning into your touch. "Though I think I might be getting a bit too much of it."

You laugh softly, your hand now resting on his side. "You might be right about that. A little red, but still looking fantastic."

Charles chuckles; the sound low and warm. He removes his sunglasses and sets them down on the nearby table, revealing those stunning green eyes that always seem to capture your soul. They are so clear, so expressive, and they lock onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch.

For a moment, you just stand there, soaking in the beauty of the moment, the comfort of being with him. His presence is all-encompassing, yet never overwhelming. It's as if the world has shrunk down to just the two of you, here on this yacht, floating in the vastness of the sea.

Breaking the comfortable silence, you ask with a playful glint in your eyes. "Do you have your phone on you?"

Charles raises an eyebrow, clearly puzzled by the question. "No why?"

You smile mischievously, stepping a little closer. "Good, because the water is calling you."

Before he can react, you give him a gentle push, sending him over the edge of the yacht. His eyes widen in surprise, and he lets out a half-laugh, half-shriek as he tumbles into the crystal-clear water below. 

There is a loud splash, followed by a moment of silence as you watch the spot where he disappeared.

You giggle, your heart racing with a mix of excitement and mischief. You love teasing him like this, knowing he'll be plotting his revenge the moment he surfaces. 

Without wasting another second, you dive in after him, the cool water a refreshing shock against your sun-warmed skin.

You emerge from the water, gasping slightly at the temperature difference. The sun overhead feels hotter now, the rays reflecting off the water's surface in dazzling patterns. 

But there is no sign of Charles. You glance around, treading water, a playful sense of unease creeping in.

Where did he go?

Just as you're about to call out his name, something grabs you from behind, pulling you underwater. You let out a startled yelp before being submerged, bubbles escaping your lips as you twist around. 

When you resurface, sputtering and laughing, you find Charles grinning at you, his hair slicked back from the water, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Gotcha!" he exclaims, his laughter mixing with yours.

You splash him in retaliation, and soon you're both engaged in a playful water fight, your laughter echoing across the empty sea. It's a liberating feeling, being out here with him, away from the pressures of his career and the constant media attention. 

Here, you're just two people in love, enjoying each other's company in the most carefree way possible.

After a while, you tire of the game, and Charles swims closer, wrapping his arms around you. You lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder as you both float lazily in the water, letting the gentle waves rock you back and forth.

"This is perfect," you murmur against his skin, closing your eyes as you soak in the moment.

"Yeah," Charles agrees, his voice soft in your ear. "It really is. Just you and me, the sun, and the sea. No races, no schedules, no nothing."

You nod, feeling completely at peace. Being with Charles like this, away from everything, makes you realize just how much you treasure these quiet moments together.

It's in these times that you see a different side of him—the side that's not the fierce competitor or the media darling, but the man who loves you with all his heart.

Eventually, you both decide to head back to the yacht, your limbs feeling pleasantly tired from the swim. Charles climbs up the ladder first, offering you his hand as you follow. 

The sun hits you with full force once you're back on deck, and you shiver slightly as the breeze picks up, cooling the droplets of water clinging to your skin.

"Let's let the sun dry us off," Charles suggests, gesturing to the cushioned lounge chairs that are perfectly positioned to catch the sunlight.

You agree, and the two of you settle down next to each other, lying on your backs with your faces turned up toward the sky. The warmth of the sun soon chases away the chill, and you close your eyes, feeling yourself drift into that pleasent, lazy state that only comes on the most perfect summer days.

As you lie side by side, Charles shifts closer, the space between you disappearing until he's right there beside you. Without hesitation, he moves to join you on the same lounge chair, adjusting himself so that you're nestled comfortably together. 

There's just enough room for both of you, and you can feel the warmth of his skin against yours, the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathes.

As you lie nestled together, the familiar scent of Charles reaches your nose—a mixture of salt from the sea, the lingering freshness of his cologne, and that indefinable warmth that is uniquely his.

It's a scent you've come to love—one that instantly calms you and fills you with a deep sense of comfort. You breathe it in deeply, letting it envelop you, and a soft smile tugs at your lips.

You reach out, your hand resting on his firm chest, the rhythmic beat of his heart steady under your palm. His skin is still slightly damp from the swim, but the sun has already begun to dry him off, leaving him warm on the touch. 

You begin to gently stroke his chest, your fingers tracing the defined lines of muscles, feeling the strength and power that he carries so effortlessly.

Charles hums softly, his eyes half-closed in contentment. His own hand finds its way to your arm, his fingers trailing up and down in a soothing, repetitive motion. It's a tender, intimate gesture, one that speaks of the deep connection you share.

The world around you seems to fade away, leaving only the sensation of being here, together, in this perfect moment.

His hand moves slowly, almost absentmindedly, from your shoulder to your wrist, and back up again, as if he's memorizing the feel of your skin. The simple act of touch, being close to each other, is enough to make your heart swell with affection.

You feel the love radiating from him, not in words but in the way he touches you, in the way he holds you close.

You lift your head slightly, gazing at him. His eyes are still that vivid green, but now they're softer, more relaxed, filled with a peacefulness that you rarely see during the racing season. 

His face, too, is relaxed, free of the tension and focus that usually dominate his features when he's in the public eye.

"What are you thinking about?" you ask quietly, your fingers still brushing over his chest.

Charles opens his eyes fully, turning his head to look at you. A slow smile spreads across his face, one that reaches his eyes, and makes them twinkle. "I'm thinking about how perfect this is," he replies, his voice low and sincere. "How perfect you are."

You feel a flush of warmth spread through you, not just from the sun, but from his words. You smile back at him, your heart feeling as though it might burst with happiness.

"You're the perfect one," you tease gently, but there's truth in your words. To you, he really is.

He chuckles softly, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. His lips are warm and gentle, and you can't help but smile as the slight roughness of his stubble brushes against your skin.

The sensation is both familiar and comforting, a reminder of the many times he's held you like this, his affection evident in every touch.

"We're both pretty lucky, I think."

He moves to kiss your cheek, and again, that faint tickle from his stubble makes you giggle softly. You can't help but lean into it, savoring the contrast between the roughness of his stubble and the softness of his lips.

It's a feeling that's become intimately familiar to you—one that you've come to associate with the quiet, tender moments you share with him.

What's so funny?" He asks, pulling back just enough to look at you, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Your stubble," you reply with a playful grin. "It tickles, but... I like it."

A slow, teasing smile spreads across his face as he leans in to kiss you again, this time on the lips. The sensation is electric, his stubble adding a deliciously rough texture to the softness of the kiss.

You sigh into it, your hand moving to the back of his neck to pull him closer, deepening the kiss.

His stubble continues to graze your skin, the sensation sending little shivers of pleasure down your spine. It's a small, intimate detail, but it's one of the many things you love about being close to him.

When he finally pulls back, you're both breathless, and you smile up at him.

"I'm never letting you shave that off," you say, half-teasing, half-serious.

Charles laughs, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he brushes a hand over his stubble. 

"I'll keep that in mind," he replies, leaning down to kiss you again, this time on your nose, eliciting another giggle from you.

As you nestle closer to him, you sigh contentedly, closing your eyes as you rest your head on his shoulder. 

The sun continues to bathe you in its warmth, and the gentle rocking of the yacht adds to the feeling of utter relaxation. Charles's hand still moves on your arm; his touch light and comforting.

For a while, you both lie there in silence, just enjoying the simple pleasure of being close to one another. The sun's rays start to soften as it dips lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the deck. The air cools slightly, but neither of you makes a move to get up.

There is something about the moment that feels timeless, as if nothing else matters except the two of you and the love that you share.

You feel Charles shift slightly, his lips brushing against your temple. 

"You know," he murmurs, his voice soft and filled with affection. "I could stay like this forever."

You smile, your hand resting over his heart.

"Me too, Charles. Me too."

As you lie comfortably in his arms, your eyes drift over Charles's skin, noticing the slight redness from too much sun. You can't help but chuckle softly, the sound escaping your lips before you even realize it. 

The thought of his usually careful self forgetting something as simple as sunscreen brings a playful smile to your face.

Charles notices your amusement and raises an eyebrow, his lips curling into a curious grin. 

"What's so funny now?"

You reach out and gently run your fingers over his warm, slightly sunburned skin, feeling the heat radiating from it.

"I´was just thinking," you say with a teasing lilt in your voice, "that you really need to put on some sunscreen, Mr. Leclerc. We can't have you turning into a tomato before the break is over."

He glances down at his own chest and arms, chuckling along with you as he realizes just how much the sun has kissed his skin.

"You're right," he admits with a sheepish smile. "I might've overdone it a bit." His tone is light, filled with that easygoing charm you love so much.

You laugh softly, leaning in closer, so your noses almost touch. 

"Looks like I'll have to take care of you," you murmur, your voice playful yet tender.

Charles's smile widens, and his eyes soften as he looks at you, the affection in his gaze making your heart skip a beat.

"I'd like that," he replies, his voice low and full of warmth.

Before you can say anything more, he closes the distance between you, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. His stubble tickles your skin, making you smile against his mouth. 

The kiss is sweet and unhurried, a perfect reflection of the lazy, sun-soaked day you've spent together. You can taste the salt of the sea on his lips, feel the warmth of his skin under your hands, and it makes you feel completely, blissfully content.

When you finally pull back, your forehead rests against his, and you both chuckle softly, the sound mingling in the stillness of the evening. 

"Seriously, though," you say with a playful smile, "we need to get you some sunscreen before you're too burnt to enjoy the rest of our time here."

Charles grins, his eyes twinkling with amusement. 

"Alright, alright. I'll let you play nurse." He teases, kissing the tip of your nose before adding, "But only if it means I get more kisses like that."

You laugh, giving him a playful nudge.

"Deal."

With that, you sit up, reluctantly pulling away from the cozy cocoon of his embrace to fetch sunscreen. Charles watches you with the same easy smile, his eyes following your every move.

You feel his gaze on you, warm and loving, as you retrieve the bottle and settle back down beside him.

The sun is lower in the sky now, casting a golden glow over the yacht, the light softening everything it touches. 

You squirt some sunscreen into your hand and begin to gently rub it into his skin, your fingers moving in slow, soothing circles. Charles closes his eyes, clearly enjoying the attention, a contented sigh escaping his lips.

"There," you say once you're finished, leaning down to press a kiss to his now-protected shoulder. "All better."

He opens his eyes and smiles up at you, a look of pure adoration in his gaze. 

"Thank you, love," he murmurs, pulling you back down beside him.

You curl up next to him once more, his arm wrapping around you as you rest your head on his chest, the rhythmic sound of his heartbeat is the perfect soundtrack to the moment, lulling you into a state of peaceful contentment.

As the sun dips lower on the horizon, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink, a gentle breeze sweeps across the deck. The air, once warm, begings to cool, and you feel a slight shiver run through you.

Charles notices immediately, his protetctive instincts kicking in.

Without a word, he sits up, leaving the warmth of your embrace, and you watch as he heads towards the cabin.

A moment later, he returns with a soft, cozy blanket in hand, his smile tender as he wraps it around the both of you. He tucks the edges securely around your shoulders, ensuring that you're completely covered before he lies down beside you again, pulling you close.

You snuggle into his side, feeling the imemdiate warmth of the blanket and the reassuring comfort of his body pressed against yours. 

The coolness of the evening air fades away as you lean against his strong frame, feeling his warmth seep into you.

With a contented sigh, you reach out to stroke his chest once more, your fingers tracing the familiar contours of his muscles, the steady rise and fall of his breathing soothing you.

Charles hums softly, the sound vibrating through his chest, and it's a sound you've come to love- a sign of his deep contentment, of how peaceful he feels in this moment with you. His arm wraps around you, holding you close as he nuzzles his face into your hair, his breath warm against your scalp.

The quiet intimacy between you feels almost sacred, as though the world has narrowed down to just the two of you, wrapped up together under the softening light of the setting sun.

The sky above begins to darken, stars slowly appearing one by one, twinkling against the deepening blue. The sound of the water lapping gently against the side of the yacht provides a soothing backdrop, mingling with the rustle of the blanket as you shift, nestling even closer to Charles.

His chest rumbles with another contented hum as he hugs you more tightly, his lips pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

"I love this," he murmurs, his voice a low, soothing whisper in the quiet evening. "Being here with you... nothing else matters."

You smile, your heart swelling with affection as you lift your head to look up at him. His eyes meet yours, the green softened by the twilight, filled with so much love that it takes your breath away.

"I love this too," you whisper back, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. "And I love you."

His smile is radiant, even in the fading light, as he returns the kiss, his lips lingering on yours. It's a kiss filled with all the love and tenderness that words could never fully capture, a promise that no matter what, you'll always have this- each other, and these precious moments.

When the kiss ends, you settle back down against his chest, your hand continuing its slow, gentle caress. Charles hums again, a sound that reverberates through his chest and into your very soul. 

The night continues to settle in around you, but wrapped in each other's arms, you feel nothing but warmth and love.

[doumadono]

Warnings: smut w/o plot, fem!Reader, metal vibrating dick, metal vibrating fingers, semi-public, spanking, fingering, Boothill can’t curse, Boothill calling himself “daddy”, creampie

Synopsis: Boothill had been on a mission for quite some time, and you had missed him dearly. So, when he finally returned, you were bursting with excitement to greet him — and he felt the same way too

A/N: special dedication to my beloved @crystalwolfblog & @shonen-brainrot

OTHER FANDOMS MASTERLIST

In the dim light of the station, the air was thick with the faint scent of rust. 

The weeks without Boothill had felt like an eternity, each day dragging on without the comfort of his presence. When his message finally came through, the simple words, "On my way back to the station," sent a jolt of happiness through you that you couldn't contain.

You quickly put on his favorite short skirt and a plain shirt, the anticipation making your hands tremble slightly as you smoothed down the fabric. Your heart raced as you made your way to the hangar, the familiar paths of the station feeling new and exciting again.

As you approached the hangar, you caught sight of him strolling through an empty technical corridor. His confident stride, the glint of metal and the familiar outline of his figure were unmistakable. You didn't hesitate. With a mewl of pure joy, you ran to him, your footsteps echoing in the quiet corridor. "Boothill!" you cried, leaping into his arms.

He caught you effortlessly, his strong, mechanical arms wrapping around you with a firm yet gentle grip. "Missed you, darlin'," he murmured, his voice filled with genuine warmth. He peppered your cheeks with kisses, each one soft and lingering, his lips brushing against your skin in a series of tender touches.

You buried your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his familiar scent mixed with the metallic tang of his body. "I missed you too," you whispered, your voice muffled against him. 

The weeks apart had been difficult, but now, in his arms, everything felt right again.

He put you down, and pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. "You look beautiful," he said, his gaze roaming over your outfit. 

"I wanted to surprise you."

"Consider me surprised and very pleased," he replied, his metal fingers tracing gentle patterns on your shoulders. "You know how to make a guy feel welcome."

His words brought a blush to your cheeks, and you felt a warmth spread through your body that had nothing to do with the temperature of the station. "I couldn't wait to see you," you admitted, your fingers playing with the fabric of his shirt.

Boothill's expression softened, a rare vulnerability showing through his usually confident demeanor. "I couldn't wait to see you either," he said, his voice low and sincere. "Being away was tough, but knowing I'd get to come back to you made it bearable."

He kissed you then, a deep, lingering kiss that spoke of all the longing and desire that had built up during your time apart. His lips moved against yours with a passion that made your knees weak, and you clung to him, pouring all your emotions into the kiss.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting together. 

After that, Boothill’s  fingers gently traced the curve of your jaw. His touch was cold, yet you didn’t mind in the slightest. His breath was ragged, his chest heaving with the intensity of his desire. "Do you know how much I missed ya, darlin’?" he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly whisper that seemed to vibrate through the very air around you. 

The words were both a question and a declaration, and your response was caught in your throat, replaced by a soft gasp as his fingers slid into your mouth.

Boothill's lips curled into a smirk, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. His free hand moved to your waist, pulling you closer, the coolness of his body a stark contrast to your own heated flesh. "Shhh," he whispered, his lips curling into a dark, seductive smile. He leaned in, his breath ghosting over your ear. "I want to hear every sound you make," he said, his tone dripping with desire, "But we can't have you wakin’ up the whole station, can we?" 

You nodded eagerly in agreement as he trailed open mouthed kisses up the column of your neck.

With a dark, predatory smile, he brought his fingers to your lips, his eyes locked onto yours. “Now, be a good little girl and open your mouth f’me, baby,” Boothill commanded.

You obeyed, parting your lips as his fingers slipped inside. The sensation was strange but exhilarating, his fingers exploring your mouth with a deliberate, teasing slowness. 

He watched you intently, his gaze never wavering as he pushed deeper, his thumb stroking the outside of your lips in a soothing gesture as his digits hit the back of your throat.

The taste of metal filled your mouth, and you moaned around his fingers, the sound muffled but unmistakable. Your gaze never left him.

Boothill’s eyes darkened with desire, his own breathing growing more ragged as he took in the sight of you, moaning like a pathetic whore, even when he didn’t touch you fully yet. He began to move his fingers, sliding them in and out of your mouth. “Do you like that?” he asked, his voice a rough whisper. “Do you like the way my fingers feel in your mouth?”

You nodded, your response muffled by his fingers as you sucked on them earnestly.

Boothill’s lips curled into a satisfied smile, and he pushed his metal digits deeper, the sensation intensifying. The taste, the feel, the sheer dominance of the act — it was all driving you wild.

Boothill's free hand moved to your waist, pulling you closer until your bodies were pressed together. "Good girl," he praised again, his eyes darkening with lust as his free hand cupped and fondled your breasts through the fabric of your shirt. 

Your nipples were perky, and it made him grin as he gently pinched one of them.

Before you could respond, his fingers that were fucking your mouth began to vibrate. The sudden, intense sensation caught you off guard, your eyes widening in surprise. The vibrations sent shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body, your moans growing louder, more desperate. 

"Didn't expect that, did you?" he said, his tone dripping with amusement. Boothill’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he watched you squirm. 

You clenched your thighs together, trying to rub them, seeking so much needed friction.

The tension that had built up during the weeks apart seemed to melt away under the gentle pressure of his vibrating fingers against your flexed tongue.

With a deliberate slowness, Boothill withdrew his fingers from your mouth, allowing you to gasp for breath. 

Your lips were swollen, your face flushed with desire. 

"Turn around," he commanded, his voice a low growl.

The authority in his tone left no room for argument, and you obeyed, your heart pounding with anticipation.

Boothill's hands moved to your hips, guiding you into position. The cool metal of his fingers squeezed your ass, possessive and demanding, as he pressed you forward, your chest flattening against the cold wall.

"I want to have my ways with ya, baby," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "I want to be in your cookie so ducking much."

Boothill’s hands slid down your body, his touch firm and possessive. He reached the hem of your short skirt and lifted it, his eyes widening in surprise and delight as he discovered your secret. “Well, well, darlin’,” he drawled, a wide grin spreading across his face as he watched your bare pussy, your folds already glistening with slickness. “So that’s the reason your scent was so intoxicating and intense today.”

You weren’t wearing any panties. Your cheeks flushed at his words, but there was no time for embarrassment. 

Boothill’s fingers moved to unfasten his belt, the metallic clink of his buckle echoing in the quiet corridor. He undid his fly and pushed his pants down to his ankles, revealing his metal member, already hard and glinting in the dim light.

His hands returned to your body, spreading your ass cheeks apart.

You felt the cool air against your warm, slick, exposed pussy, and you gasped, biting into your knuckle. 

Boothill’s vibrating fingers teased your entrance, and you couldn’t help but moan at the sensation. “Fuck…”

“Such a pretty sight,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “So wet and ready for daddy.” He slid two of his fingers inside you, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. 

Your forehead pressed against the cold wall, your hands splayed out for support as you arched your back, offering yourself to him completely. 

Boothill’s fingers moved with expert precision, stroking and teasing your warm, spongy walls until you were trembling with need. His thumb was pressed against your clit, rubbing it ever so slightly. 

The sound of Boothill's fingers moving in and out of you was a wet, obscene symphony that filled the air with the undeniable evidence of your arousal. Each slick, squelching noise echoed through the quiet corridor, a testament to just how drenched your hole had become under his expert touch.

And you weren’t ashamed in the slightest.

After a few agonizingly pleasurable moments, he withdrew his fingers, slick with your arousal. He brought them to his metal member, spreading your wetness over the shaft as a makeshift lubricant. 

You gasped and mewled at the sight, looking at him above your shoulder.

With a predatory grin, Boothill brought his fingers to his mouth, tasting your wetness. He hummed in satisfaction, his metal member twitching upwards in anticipation. “Delicious,” he murmured, his voice a dark, velvety whisper. “You taste as good as you smell.”

Boothill positioned himself behind you, the tip of his metal member pressing against your slimy entrance. 

The vibrations of his cock were subtle but unmistakable, and you couldn’t help but moan at the sensation already. 

His hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he pushed forward, the metal shaft sliding into you, inch by inch, with a slow, deliberate motion as he guided his metal cock upwards into the opening of your vagina.

When he bottomed out, you moaned in pure ecstasy. His cold, heavy balls pressed tightly against your ass. The combined sensations were overwhelming, and you could feel yourself spiraling out of control. “B-Boothill!” 

Boothill groaned, his grip on your hips tightening as he buried himself completely inside you. “Yeah, darlin’. You feel so freaking good,” he murmured, his voice rough with need. “So tight and perfect f’me.”

He began to move, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your entire being. His hands roamed over your body, one hand slipping around you to tease your clit while the other held you firmly in place. The vibrations of his member buried deep inside you, combined with the relentless pace of his thrusts and how painfully your walls had to stretch to accommodate his girth, pushed you closer to the edge.

“Smack me, smack me!" you pleaded urgently. Pressed against the cold wall, your chest flattened more against the unforgiving surface as you could feel every inch of him vibrating  inside you, his metal shaft filling you completely.

Boothill grinned widely and gave you a sharp smack on your right cheek, leaving a red mark in the shape of his hand on the meat of your ass. 

Your back arched, and you went rigid, a cry strangled in your throat and your pussy spasmed around his cock, gripping it so tight it was almost painful. "Again," you gave a strangled cry. “Fuck, spank me ass again!”

Boothill spanked your ass, this time harder than before. And then he did it again, and again, and again. 

Your ass was completely red, and throbbed with a fiery heat, the skin flushed and sensitive from all the spanking. 

As Boothill trailed the metal pads of his fingers over your tender cheeks, a sharp jolt of sensation shot through you, causing you to whimper and instinctively jerk upwards.

“Yeah!” you moaned, not caring at all that someone could have heard your desperate sounds. “Oh, fuck, yeah, I’m gonna cum soon.”

As you were pressed against the cold wall while your boyfriend fucked your tight cunny hard, a funny yet strange thought crossed your mind: Boothill, your beloved man, was serving as a good vibrator. The absurdity of the thought made you want to laugh, but the relentless sensations coursing through your body as he kept on fucking you quickly snuffed out any amusement.

“Yes,” you gasped, your voice barely more than a whisper. “Just like that, Booty!” The intensity of his movements was overwhelming, every nerve ending alight with pleasure. “Fuck me hard!” 

His metal hips were pistoning into yours, the tip of his metal cock kissing your cervix with each of his thrusts. Boothill’s pace quickened, each thrust more forceful than the last, your bodies moving in perfect sync as you rolled your hips to meet all of his thrusts. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “You’re mine,” he murmured, his voice a dark, possessive whisper. “Every part of you belongs to me.”

The words sent a thrill through you, your body responding to his claim with a shudder of pleasure. You cried out once more, flaring your nostrils, breathing fiercely in and out in quick spurts like a woman in labour easing the pain, trying to relax. Your cunt started gripping and releasing his cock in a fierce rhythm. You were nearing your orgasm.

Boothill’s grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your warm flesh as he drove his cock into your tight pussy fast enough to push all of the air out of your lungs. The amplified vibrations of his metal member, combined with the force of his thrusts, pushed you to the brink of ecstasy.

“Come for daddy,” he commanded, his voice rough with need. “Come on my ducking iron rod, darlin’!”

The words were your undoing. With a final, shuddering cry, your pussy pulsated around him, the pleasure crashing over you in waves as your velvety walls clamped convulsively around his metal shaft still buried deep within your drenched hole. 

Boothill’s thrusts became sloppy, and his body shuddered against yours as he grunted. With a deep, guttural groan, he reached his own climax. 

You felt his metal member twitch inside you as he released his thick seed, the sensation unlike anything you had ever experienced. His semen quickly blended with your runny cum.

Boothill's metal member twitched one final time, shooting the last ropes of cum within you before he began to withdraw. 

The sensation of his cock leaving your pussy with a pop sound sent another shiver down your spine, and you gasped, your body trembling from the aftershocks of your shared climax, making you pant loudly. “Oh holy shit…”

As Boothill pulled out, the mixture of your releases began to dribble down your thighs, the combined fluids glistening in the dim light of the corridor. He stood back for a moment, his dark eyes taking in the sight of you — shaking, breathless, and utterly spent. A dark, satisfied smile played on his lips as he watched the evidence of your intense sex trickle down your legs after he cupped your ass cheeks and spread them wider, watching your beautiful, abused pussy still clenching but this time around nothing.

After he pulled his trousers back up and adjusted them, he gave your ass one last spank. "Darlin', you seem distracted," Boothill murmured, his voice a low, gravelly whisper that sent a shiver down your spine. "What’s on your mind?"

You bit your lip, trying to suppress a giggle. "I’ve been just thinking... how you're really good at... multitasking," you managed to say, improving your hair and pulling your skirt down. “I didn’t know your fingers could vibrate too.”

Boothill chuckled, the sound a low, mechanical rumble coming deep within his chest. "Well, darlin', I've got a few tricks up my sleeve," he said, his voice a mix of amusement and pride. "Glad to see you're enjoyin' the multitasking." He leaned in closer, pecking your cheek, and moving to your ear to whisper, "Those fingers can do a lot more than just vibrate, you know. But now that I’m back, I aim to show you every last one of their talents."

[amaranthineghost]

| 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐒. ( lando norris. ) |

ꕥ pairing: lando norris x reader

ꕥ summary: you don't want him to go

ꕥ author note: first imagine :3 it's been sitting in my drafts for months because I was too scared to post but reading it back, it low-key eats.

“COME ON DARLING…you’ve got to let me go…” lando’s voice muffled softly against the skin of my neck, a chuckle escaping his lips and the vibrations sent butterflies fluttering through my body.

the belgian grand prix had finished days ago, and lando was eager to get back to his flat in the uk for summer break. despite my adamant protests, we flew out the very next morning and was happily greeted by max fewtrell when we’d arrived.

days later, lando’s trainer insisted on getting some training done, he wouldn't be gone for long, i knew it well

but still not wanting him to leave, i clung to him, shrouding him in my arms to prevent him from leaving. i reached around his neck, standing on the tips of my toes to haul him down to meet my height and suffocate him in my embrace. his head naturally fell between the crevice of my neck, chuckling lowly when i did so.

his breath fanned across my neck like warm winds in autumn, goosebumps forming on my skin.

i hate the effect he has on me.

yet i’d continue to hold him captive, his body heat radiating onto to me like a heated blanket. his hands placed firmly on my waist, his thumb dragging across the exposed skin, the result of my shirt riding up. his finger occasionally disappearing under the fabric.

the way he held me…

“baby…” his voice was slightly hoarse, unnecessarily dragging out the ‘y’ as he spoke lowly. his fingers pressed tighter against my exposed waist in a pulsating manner.

god, the way he spoke to me…

“don't go…” i muttered against the soft fabric of his hoodie he wore to combat the cool air and soft sprinkling of rain drops. my voice was muffled, almost lost in the layers of his clothes.

i slowly inhaled after i spoke, taking in his faded cologne that resided on his hoodie. it was like a drug and i couldn't get enough.

“i've got to…” he reiterated with an amused tone, but made no effort to be the first to let go, “i’ll be back later…”

i groaned faintly into his hoodie, my arms firmly looped around his nape loosened gradually. i lifted my head from the spot on his hoodie, which prompted him to pull his head away.

his soft curls grazed across my neck, emanating a soft ticklish sensation through my skin. his hands remained by my sides as his body pulled away from mine. the comfort of having him quickly dissipated and i was left with the abnormally cold air to keep me company.

the last touch of warmth i had from him left as he’d removed his hands from my waist, though quickly replacing it on my chin.

his hand pushed against the underside of my chin, making me meet his gaze as he looked down on me. his green eyes were enthralling.

oh how I love his eyes.

my pupils dilated as i stared into his, and i was stuck in his half-lidded gaze. my eyes flickered when i had realized his forehead had come to rest against mine. his finger brushed against the side of my face, inciting a sharp inhale as he tucked loose strands of hair behind my ear.

his forehead was warm against mine, the warmth i so desperately craved from him. His nose bumped against mine softly, heat spreading across my face as i felt his breath pan across my face.

his lips ghosted over mine. it was a slight contact but not enough.

i needed more.

and as i watched his tired eyes continuously as they glanced from my dilated eyes down to my irritated lips when his lips began to press against mine.

the contact i needed, that I craved from him…I finally had as his lips pressed mine, taking his time as he moved against me.

the comfort of his body returned to me again, like it'd never even left. his hand tangled in my hair as he pushed me closer to him. his other hand traced along my jaw before resting by my ear.

he felt like sitting by a fireplace, watching the flames flicker and ashes fly as you sat by on the floor.

he felt like home.

and as his lips moved against mine, i feel a fire igniting in my chest, as it always did, and my lips sting softly. a curse of biting them regularly.

though the sting of having his lips against mine is an odd comfort, it's a mere familiarity that brings content.

the moment feels like it lasts forever, like it could last forever, and it would if we allowed it to

but when he pulls away, the warmth, the contact, the comfort i desperately crave from him, had quickly went with it. as if i never had it to begin with.

he paused for a second, taking in a breath before leaning in again, but this time only connecting our lips for a short second.

and then i was craving warmth and homeliness i already had as his body remained on mine but knowing it was coming to an end.

he chuckled softly, the ghostly vibrations fell over my lips as he pulled away, pursing his lips to hide his toothy smile.

“i’ll be back, you know i will…” he muttered , his eyes transfixed on his hand, running my hair between the pads of his fingers. he pulled away, the lack of heat caused goosebumps to arise across my skin.

it was like throwing a heated blanket off your body, except i didn't want him to go.

home is where he is.

“bye darling…”

I'm not home when he isn't here.

[beachyma]

orange soda.

a. donaldson , you | nsfw |

The quiet sprinkle of evening dew quiets your racing nerves with each pitter-patter splashing against the pavement. You lay rested comfortably on the mattress of your boy-best friend's dormitory. You can hear the quickening hum of his heartbeat as you lay against the headboard. You estimated a near 120 beats each minute. A soft smile tugs on your lips at this realization, gently adjusting your position so that your forearm rests recklessly close to the curve in his aqua tennis shorts. He faintly chokes back a cough, a pink hue tinting his cheeks and nose. You glance up at him warmly, "You need water?" a sarcastic laughs leaves your lips. His flushed-red lips widen into a teethy smile, "It's on my nightstand, if you want to hand it me." You snootily roll your eyes in 'way to brush me off' way, twisting your body to grab the aluminum water that rest on his wooden night stand. "Why don't you get a smaller water bottle- this thing weighs a shit ton Art." You complain, surveying the vividly scattered stickers casually placed on the bottle. He places the water bottle to his lips, taking a sip before leaving it to lay in between his thighs, "I need to stay hydrated." he promptly says. You notice the bob of his adam's apple as he swallows, his jaw flexing to a cast a gentle shadow, lining his chin and neck. You scrunch your eyebrows together in disagreement, "and there aren't smaller water bottle that can do the same thing?" you quiz. His coy gaze softens your facial expression, "No." he denotes. "Doesn't it get heavy carrying around every day?" You urge, grabbing the water bottle, swiftly grazing his inner thigh. The sudden movement causes him to flinch, wincing as the cool metal is subsisted by your thumb and pointer finger. You cock an eyebrow at him, a curious look coats your face, "You good?" His body shifts as he sits up from leaning on the headboard, the wooden bed frame creaking in retaliation. "Yeah, I'm fine." he opposes. His pink-hue is punctuality replaced by a cherry-red tinge. A vivid red tints his face, followed by his neck and hands. He almost looks like he'd be hot to the touch. "Never had a girl touch your leg before?" you sarcastically joked, positioning the water bottle back onto the nightstand. "Shut up." He palms his face in mortification, brining his knees to his chest. "Stop acting like a virgin Donaldson." you tease, gently shoving his shoulder to the side. "Fuck off." he groans in desperation. "Oh I bet you'd love me to do that to you." your index finger playfully tracing the length of his thigh. He can only whine in an effort to retaliate, his skin glowing a deep red. "You can do better than that." you mockingly place your hand on his upper thigh, tenderly messaging the muscle, your fingers working carefully near the leg-holes of his tiny shorts. He whimpers at the contact, jerking his leg to the left. A grin dances across your lips, the grip you have on his thigh loosens. Your fingers begin to sketch the lining of his waistband, gently tugging on the stretchy fabric. You pause, gazing attentively at him for a brief moment, his eyes struggling to meet yours. " Art?" you ask, his stare coming to acknowledge yours, a look of desperation masks his face. "Please." he mutters, voice low and soft. "Please what-" you are interrupted by the warmth of his lips against your nape, his hands trailing down the length of your waist, to your hips. A soft moan escapes your lips, fingers rushing to pull at his blonde locks. You can feel the sensation of a cocky grin tug at his lips while he bruises your neck with his mouth, his hands desperately gripping your hips. "Art-" your voice breaks, husky, and rough. "Shit-", you breathe. Art places gentle kisses from your neck to your jaw, finally meeting your lips with his own. They are soft, and have that generic chapstick flavor. He kisses you with a gentleness you're not used to, like as if he made one wrong move, he would hurt you. That thought brings a warmth to your stomach, its tickling and teasing you.

Art beckons you closer, pulling you to his chest with his bicep. You lean into his muscular body, palming his jaw with your hand. His hands restlessly travels your body, cupping your ass with one hand, and gripping the fat of for waist with the other. You shift your body so that your leg rests between his thighs, and you both are kneeling on the mattress. You groan in the kiss, your free hand trails his clothed abs. He whines at your touch, the veins in his hands pop as he shifts his attention to massage the fat of your ass with both hands. Your body jolts at the sudden gesture, causing friction between Art's thigh and your sensitive bud. You moan instinctively, lips parting from his. A quiet whine of absence leaves his lips, his eyes glare lewdly at you."Do that again." he presses, guiding your hips to move forward. You groan at his words, bucking your hips up to achieve that friction once again. Art remains silent, his grip on your hips tightening each time you move back and forth, the lining of your athletic shorts is the only barrier between skin. "Art-," you breathe, "Fuck." your head falls into his shoulder, your hands resting neatly on either side. He winces when your knee promptly grazes his cock. "Please Art-" you slur, the warm feeling in your stomach is replaced by a tightness, Art needily rocking your hips on his thigh, quiet whimpers of approval every time you moan at the slightest change in pace.

(not proofread + im cooked) 👩🏽‍🍳🥰

[erenthology]

Assertive

Rugby boyfriend!Eren x fem!reader

collage au, possessive but in an infatuated boyfriend type of way. Size differences are mentioned. No matter your size, Eren is bigger than you. (Note: going to be more active now that Aot is ending. Feel free to send requests ♡)

I don’t mind if you’re ignoring me, cuz I’m ignoring you. “ he watches you bounce around the room in your thin, white nightdress. 

You continue looking for your phone, ignoring him. There’s no way you haven’t searched every inch of his dorm room by now, so you finally look at him. He’s laying on the bed shirtless, hands behind his neck, looking at you innocently. That f’ckin bastard.

“Do you have my phone, Eren?”

He flashes his teeth, “ugh, baby, you have no idea how nice it is to hear your voice again. C’mere.” he pats his lap.

You sternly put your hand on top of your hip, arching it to the side, giving Eren the perfect view. “Do you have it or not?” He doesn’t even try to hide his smirk.

”Do I? I'm not sure. You should come over and look,” stretching his arms out in an inviting pose.

Earlier, Eren’s roommate, Floch, made a joke about how he can hear when you and Eren are having sex. When you told Eren, he rushed out of the room and ordered Floch to apologize. Completely scolding him like a dad. You felt embarrassed since you didn’t want his friends to think you can’t take a joke.

You know he’s just going to grab and pull you towards him, so instead, you start walking towards the door. Eren tenses immediately and rushes towards you,

‘’Hey, hey” he grabs your hand. ”where do you think you’re going?’’ he questions with furrowed eyebrows.

‘’To ask if the guys have they’ve seen it?’’ 

His eyes flash red for a second. To have his friends see the outline of your nipples through that thin fabric of your so called pajamas? He looks you up and down, nope, not happening. You should be wearing his t-shirts to bed anyway.

 ‘’Not like that, you’re not,’’ he gives you an ‘’end of discussion’’ look, but you huff and turn anyway. Not that you get far at all, he has you slung over his shoulders before you’ve even fully turned.

The con of having a rugby player as a boyfriend is that he throws you around a lot without so much as breaking a sweat. When you’re mad at him, he has this irritating habit of lifting you off the ground and cuddling you until you’ve cooled down. Claiming it “breaks his heart watching you walk away angry.”

He walks towards the bed, ignoring your fists punching at his back. “You’re such a brat sometimes.” He doesn't mind at all though, Eren has the patience of a saint when it comes to his girl, he enjoys being the one to set you straight.

He carefully lies you down on his bed, positions himself on top and grins, ‘’gotcha,’’ then smacks a kiss on your cheek. ‘’You’re annoying.” you pinch his ear in retaliation.

“Ow, hey, you know you’re stronger than you look.” he scratches his reddened ear. ‘’I'm being deadass, baby, you could go pro in armwrestling or some shit.’’ You burst out laughing over how dramatic he’s being and his eyes lit up from the sound. Your smile always captivates him.

Feeling yourself being stared at, you grin cheekily, unable to hide your smile “weirdo, stop staring,’’ brushing your fingers against his stubble. His eyes follow the movement of your hand and begin tracing the shape of your figure when all of a sudden he starts attacking you in tickles.

You’re both advancing on each other playfully, laughing hysterically. In an attempt to roll out of his reach, Eren quickly reacts by by grabbing your hands and pins them above your head. The laughter is quickly replaced with heavy pants as you stare at him naively, your chest rising up and down.

Snapping out of his thoughts, he lets go of his grip and rests his head on your chest, “you know, it doesn’t matter if you’re mad. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable staying here.’’ he gently admits, then lifts his head,

‘’plus, I’m the only one who has a say about you in bed.” he wiggles his eyebrows.

“Gross,’’ you push his chest, apparently amusing him by the look on his face. ‘‘but it’s fine, really. I just wanted to ignore the situation, but I guess he should learn that not everything needs to be said.’’ At this, he grins and takes ahold of your chin,

‘’that’s a good girl.’’

You ignore the heat rising in your face and smack his hand away when you suddenly remember, ‘’speaking off, where is my phone? You know I need to do my nightly routine check.’’

He knows. It’s the reason he slipped it under his pillow the moment you started throwing a fit. It’s nice having the most predictable girl on the planet. ‘’You can do it later, let a man enjoy his girl for a moment. You can be mad at me after.’’

‘’I'm not mad at you’’ you look genuinely offended, causing him to snicker. “Besides, I kinda liked the whole sexy, scolding dad thing you had going on. It was kinda turning me on,” you admit, looking straight into his eyes.

His hands on your hips stiffen instantly and his whole demeanor changes. “Don’t even joke, [name] I will put a baby in you right this second,” large hands grab your ass and starts grinding your body against his.  

You attempt to leave but he drags you right back, looking at you confused. Looking down, you purr, “I really need to do my routine check,” sticking out your lower lip for extra effect.

You love to rile him up and have him mock you for being greedy and bratty. His face gets closer to yours with his eyebrows all furrowed.

“Did you just pout at me?”

“Nuh uh,” you lie and tease your hand against his belt, Eren’s eyes follow your movements then trace back up to your face, where you’re innocently meeting his eyes.

He grabs a fistful of your hair and looks down at your hand playing against his bulge. ‘’You wanna get fucked?’’ he spits with disgust, or admiration. It’s hard to tell with him.

“Know you enjoy keeping me on edge, acting all innocent when we both know,” He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, eyes lingering just a second too long on your lips. Thoughts on ways to tame you running wild in his head.

‘’Telling me it turned you on when I was commanding,’’ he shakes his head as if disappointed.‘’It's good I’m here to keep you in line. A girl like you needs that.’’

You feel the imprint of him on your stomach as his hips press you down on the bed, leaving you no space to leave. You try your best to keep your voice steady. “Just wanna make you happy,’ you breathe out. He almost laughs. 

“You know what would make me happy?‘’ Eren stands and lifts you up with him.

‘’you with my cock in your mouth.” You almost go limp in his arms from how lewd he's being. 

Giving you an expectant look, he nudges your nose with his, “are you waiting for something? get to work.” he guides you down on your knees towards his crotch. The carnal look in his eyes makes you fumble a bit with his belt, but Eren is patient. Sometimes you suspect he enjoys seeing you nervous to perform for him.

Pressing a kiss on the tip, he returns his gratitude by patting your hair in a domineering act, “make me proud.’’ he smiles, in which you relish. Keeping eye contact, you swirl your tongue around his shaft before hollowing your cheeks and start working your way down. You can’t help but gag at his size, no matter how often you blow him. 

It’s been quiet for some time now and you’re growing impatient with the lack of praise. You decide to look up at him through the tears in your eyes and catch him smiling down at you. The scene feels so filthy you can’t help but slyly drag your fingers over your panties to relieve some of the pressure, secretly humping your hips against your hand to the sound of his pants. 

He just nearly cums in your mouth when he notices what you’re up to. Shamelessly playing with yourself, mouth filled with cock, you look straight out of Eren’s nastiest fantasies, it was perfect.

He bends down and pulls your hand out from under your nightdress, “Not yet, need you to be a good girl for me.’’ Then he does the hottest thing all night, he leans down to give it a kiss. You love him. He makes you feel like a princess getting fucked by her knight.

Feeling enthusiastic again, you eagerly reach for him to continue where you left off, but are stopped yet again. Whining, you wait for him any sort of command, just to do something, anything! but he looks so unaffected it’s making you wail even louder.

 “stop whining, you don’t deserve to suck my dick.” Despite the warning, you almost do it again but stop yourself when you notice the glare you’re given. “But I really needa feel you, Eren. It hurts down there.” you were so wet it felt like you were about to explode from the lack of release. 

He's only a man after all, even he has his limits when you wail pathetically about how wet your pussy is. Now he needs to have a look. He pulls you up by your torso, ‘’does sucking me off make you wet?’’ You nod and visibly see his ego lit up.  

A thin sheen of sweat connects your bodies as he effortlessly carries you over to his bed. You take advantage of your flexibility and spread your legs as far apart as you can once he lays you down, earning a groan out of him.

He doesn't hesitate a moment further to push his face in there and peek under your dress. “such a pretty cunt, princess. no idea how often I jerk off thinking about it, about this,” kissing through your soaked panties. Your hips jerk upwards at his erotic words, desperate for friction.

“Eren, please”

He pushes your panties to the side but keeps them on. It’s like he’s so needy for you he can’t be bothered to take off either of your clothes properly, but patient enough to check out every inch of you as if seeing you like this for the first time.

Eren’s broad body consumes your smaller frame as you lie beneath him. You love this feeling, him shielding your body from anyone and anything but himself. 

 His ring covered fingers play softly with your bud, observing your reactions before lining himself against you, causing goosebumps to erupt all over your skin. The sight of Eren being almost abnormally endeavored by your pussy as he spits on his hand and pumps his cock, increases the heat pooling in your abdomen. 

You lie still, enjoying the sensation of him rubbing and tapping himself against you. His eyes are fixated entirely on your cunt and you enjoy every bit of the attention. Not to say you’re not curious about what goes on in his mind when he’s focused and quiet like this. Like your body is art and he is studying and memorizing every part of it.

Once satisfied, he pushes through the tight hindrance and sucks in a breathe, “oh, fuck.” and finally looks up at you. His heart stops a beat when he’s reminded of how beautiful you are. The urge to hide you away from anyone's eyes but his, hits him strong but he bites it back.

Time slows for a moment as you both take each other in through half lidded eyes, and for some reason, your vision has never been as clear. His fingers thread through yours as he leans in for a kiss. When he pulls away, your eyes are still closed. Eren grins and places one last kiss on your forehead before thrusting his way in. 

He’s fucking you with his hips, hard. Hands pressing down your pelvic, holding you still for him to ram into. The strap of your nightdress has slightly fallen down your shoulders, so he pushes the fabric that’s hiding you from him down further, and exposes your breasts. The moan he lets out from the sight is pure filth. 

‘’Touch yourself.’’ he demanded, pupils dilated. With glazed over eyes, you comply and start playing with yourself, twisting and grazing your nipples. The act drives him to lift your hips to reach deeper into you,’’really thought i’d let you walk out of my room looking like this.’’ he grows almost annoyed at the thought. 

Tenderly cupping his cheek, he almost flinches from how lovingly you’re looking at him, “You’re all I want, Eren.’’ and he almost melts. When you say things like that it makes him want to keep you to himself even more, resting his forehead against yours, he looks at you with almost a pained expression. ‘’that’s good, because i'm a selfish man.’’

 With your legs lifted around his waist and upper body sprawled on the bed, you’re essentially at his mercy as he connects your bodies in repeated thrusts. Again, again and again, the sound of him pushing into you echoes in the room. 

He fucks like a deprived man and speaks like a man in love. “Does it feel good, princess?’’ You nod with lovestruck eyes. ‘’Yeah? taking me so well. making me so proud.’’ The pressure feels too intense, about to snap.

He’s stretching you on his cock and looking straight into your eyes as he's doing it. Your body dissolves into pleasure as you writhe beneath him.

Your body starts squirming uncontrollably, causing him to grip your hips ever tighter, overpowering you in strength. You let out a loud sob and rake your nails on his back when your vision suddenly fades to black. He stares at you, astonished.

He raises an eyebrow, “did you just cum?” the thusting has stopped completely now but you felt his dick twitch inside you as he asked. “Tried to hold it in for you,” you stare back apologetically, eyes still sprinkled with lust. Best part is, he knows you didn’t. And you know it too. 

“Turn around,” he orders. You obey and slump towards the bed with your back against him, hiding your face in the pillows. “Don’t act all shy with me now, let’s see your face,” he leaves no room for discussion, so you slowly turn your head and face him. He looks so big staring down at you from your vulnerable position. “That’s a good, good girl.” 

Next thing you know, your cheeks are being spread and played with. Still high on ecstasy from the orgasm you just had, the energy to perform is nonexistent, so he does the job for you.

Huge hands angle your limp body upwards, then press down your back to create a beautiful arch, only for his eyes to admire. He sinks back inside and buries his cock in your warmth.

It’s hard maintaining eye contact with him when he’s like this, it feels so shameless, almost taboo, still, you can’t look away. He’s pounding into you, pulling your hips hard against him.

“This is what you’re making me do, looking at me like that. No one else will ever be able to see you like this,” he occupies his thumb by rubbing it over your clit. The contact is so delicate but rapid nonetheless.

You nod agreeably, barely able to register his words. “Are you close, Eren?’’

“Yeah,” his hands pressed down tightly on your lower abdomen, the scream you let out is almost inhumane. ‘’yes, yes.” you’re grinding back against him in heated motions, shockwaves of heat pumping through your body.

He snaps his pelvic against your ass and feels you sucking him right back in.  He thinks back to what you said before about him as a dad and his eyes roll back. The thought of you carrying his child inside you makes him come undone.

“Ugh, fuck.” He comes audibly high etc, covering you in his cum. You expect him to catch his breath but he smoothly regains his composure and pushes you on your back, his thumb finding its way right back to your clit, barely even getting started before leading you to your second orgasm.

You scream in pleasure as he cups your face, lips brushing against your ear. “That's it, princess, you did so well for daddy. made me so proud.” he praises as he pushes your hair out of your face. 

The lack of response makes him laugh, realizing he’d fucked you to sleep, litterally. chuckling, he grabs a warm cloth and cleans you up to his best effort.

You’re usually sleepy right after sex so this is a regular routine for you both. He smacks a kiss on the top of your head and covers you with his comforter then goes for a shower.

Once he’s done, he carries you up bridal style to the bathroom. “Wake up, sleepy.” he’s back to his sweet self. You grunt in response. “C’mon, you need to pee.’’ It’s true, so you comply and he leaves you to it. 

This is a conversation you’ve both had before, he feels no need to leave when you do your business but you’ve kicked him out enough times so he knows the drill by now. Eren changes the bedsheets while you clean up.

When finished, you walk back to the bed and he opens his arm for you to rest on, your phone lying beside him. You jump at the invitation and he hugs you towards him, ‘’what do you feel like eating?’’ he’s playing with your hair as you lie comfortably on his arm. 

“Not hungry.’’ you murmur.

Eren fights the urge to sigh. “Sorry, not up for debate.’’ He saves himself the trouble and orders for you both, knowing you’ll feel hungry once you see him eat.

When the food arrives, you end up wanting exactly what Eren ordered for himself.

‘’You’re a big baby.’’ he sulks and rolls his eyes, but feeds you nonetheless. You don’t miss the look on his face as you take a bite from his hand. One thing about Eren? he can and will fuck multiple times a day if you let him.

‘’down, boy. i’m not tryna have my guts rearranged after eating food.’’

He grins, ‘’I didn’t say anything’.’ knowing he’ll do exactly that when you’re done eating.

[pin-k-ink]

labyrinth // illumi zoldyck

tw ⇢ stalking, obsessive behavior, dub-con, toxic relationship, violence(?), emotional manipulation kinda, implied captivity, porn with plot, unprotected sex, fingering, begging, childhood friends to lovers, illumi being delulu just as every character i write

wc ⇢ 6.8k

a/n: god i am weak for this man

The forest was your home, your little sanctuary. You'd practically grown up there, spending countless hours exploring its lush greenery and hidden trails. It was a place where you could escape from the grueling responsibilities and expectations placed upon you as a young assassin-in-training. And throughout all those years, you had always shared this special place with the only person who truly understood you and allowed you to be yourself: Illumi Zoldyck.

You recalled those early days with Illumi fondly, a time when he wasn't the cold-hearted killing machine he is now. Back then, he had been such a sweetheart, always looking out for you and making sure you were safe and happy. Whenever the two of you ventured deep into the forest and lost track of time, it was Illumi who would gently take your hand and lead you back home before the darkness fully settled in. He was the one who would pluck delicate flowers and weave them into your hair, his deft fingers working with surprising tenderness. And whenever you felt insecure or doubted your own beauty, Illumi was quick to reassure you, his genuine praise and adoration leaving you feeling cherished and loved.

Though he never admitted it out loud back then, to Illumi, you were the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on. His actions spoke louder than any words ever could.

Under Illumi's guidance and unwavering support, you flourished, growing into a more confident and capable version of yourself. He brought out the best in you, both as a person and as an assassin. However, looking back, you realized there were signs and hints of the darkness lurking within him that you hadn't fully grasped at the time.

Everything changed when Illumi went missing for nearly a year. His family, always fiercely protective of their own, refused to let you into their estate or divulge any information about his whereabouts. You were left to worry and wonder, your heart heavy with each passing day without any word from your dearest friend.

When Illumi finally returned to the forest, it was as if a stranger stood in his place. Gone was the warmth and affection that once shone in his eyes whenever he looked at you. Instead, his gaze was distant and cold, devoid of the spark that had made him so special to you. In its place was a cool, assessing gaze that seemed to look through you rather than at you. The innocent, carefree boy who used to fill your days with laughter and adventure had vanished, replaced by a hardened, unreadable man.

Despite the drastic change in Illumi's demeanor, you refused to give up on him. You clung to the hope that somewhere deep inside, the old Illumi still existed, buried beneath the layers of emotional detachment and rigorous training. You treated him with the same love and care as before, even though he no longer seemed to reciprocate in the same way.

Training with Illumi became a rarity, and when you finally convinced him to spar with you after months of pleading, it was evident that he was holding back, his movements restrained and calculated. Determined to prove yourself, you pushed harder, your pride fueling your desire to land a solid hit. In response, Illumi swiftly disarmed you, twisting your arm behind your back in a move that left you vulnerable and slightly pained.

The moment a small yelp escaped your lips, Illumi's demeanor shifted. It was as if a switch had been flipped, and suddenly, he was dropping his weapon and spinning you around to face him, his usually impassive face etched with concern. "Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice holding a trace of the old Illumi you remembered so fondly.

Without waiting for a response, he gathered you into his lap, his fingers gently skimming over your skin as he searched for any signs of injury. When his hand reached your wrist, the one he had twisted moments ago, you couldn't help but hold your breath as he raised it to his lips. With a tenderness that left you breathless, Illumi began to place soft, reverent kisses along your inner wrist, his mouth brushing over your pulse point before trailing over your palm and fingertips.

He paid special attention to each callus and bruise, his lips mapping out a path of worship across your battle-worn skin. It wasn't until you gently pulled your hand away, your face flushed and your heart racing, that he finally stopped.

"What the hell was that?" you managed to ask, your voice trembling slightly as you cradled your hand against your chest. Illumi, seemingly unfazed by the intimate moment, simply handed your weapons back to you and helped you to your feet, his expression once again unreadable.

After that incident, you no longer asked Illumi to train with you. Instead, he began to invite you along on missions, providing you with an escape from the constraints placed upon you by your own family, who still clung to the outdated belief that women had no place on the battlefield.

Illumi became your ticket to freedom, even if he himself remained emotionally distant. He would sneak into your room under the cover of darkness, whisking you away to far-off locations where you could put your skills to the test without fear of reprisal from your family.

The short missions he selected allowed you to return home by morning, and on the days when he had no assignments, Illumi would seek you out in the forest. Though your time together was no longer filled with training, you found solace in his presence as you poured out your heart to him, sharing the mundane details of your life.

As you talked, Illumi would often lay his head in your lap, his dark hair splayed out like a pool of ink against your thighs. You would card your fingers through the silky strands, marveling at how much he had changed and yet, in some ways, remained the same.

"You should grow it out," you murmured one day, the words slipping out before you could stop them. Illumi's eyes flickered open, their intensity catching you off guard as he stared up at you.

"You want me to grow out my hair?" he asked, his voice low and serious, as if your answer held the weight of the world.

"Y-yes?" you stammered, suddenly unsure of yourself under his unwavering gaze.

Months passed, and your routine with Illumi continued. It wasn't until one day, as he lay with his head nestled against your stomach, that you noticed his hair had grown past his shoulders, the ends brushing against your skin like whispers of silk.

"Your hair," you commented softly, your fingers threading through the lengthened strands. "It's gotten so long."

"You told me to grow it out," Illumi replied simply, as if that explained everything. And in a way, perhaps it did.

Along with the changes in his appearance, Illumi developed another habit. Whenever he went on missions without you, he would bring back small tokens – souvenirs of a sort, though they were far from the typical trinkets one might expect.

These mementos ranged from blood-stained lockets to priceless artifacts, each one a macabre reminder of the lives he had taken. Once, he even presented you with a family photograph, the smiling faces of his latest victims staring up at you from the glossy paper.

You had declined that particular offering, and Illumi had disappeared without a word. You worried that you had offended him, only to be startled awake late that night by a scratching sound at your window.

When you investigated, you found Illumi standing outside, a squirming bundle in his arms. He had gone back and kidnapped the family dog, presenting it to you with an air of solemn determination.

Though his actions were often baffling and his demeanor remained inscrutable, you couldn't help but find a certain charm in Illumi's unconventional displays of affection. It was clear that, in his own way, he still cared for you deeply.

But the true depth of your feelings for each other remained unspoken, buried beneath layers of duty and the weight of your shared history.

Then came the day that changed everything. After months of separation, you finally had the chance to see Illumi again, your heart brimming with news that you knew would alter the course of your lives forever.

With a voice that trembled despite your best efforts to keep it steady, you met Illumi's gaze and spoke the words that would shatter the fragile equilibrium you had built together:

"I'm getting married."

The words hung heavy in the air between you, a leaden weight that seemed to steal the very breath from your lungs. For a long moment, Illumi remained perfectly still, his dark eyes boring into yours with an intensity that made your heart stutter in your chest.

"Married?" he repeated, his voice flat and emotionless, betraying none of the turmoil you were sure must be raging beneath the surface. "To whom?"

You swallowed hard, your fingers twisting nervously in your lap. "It's an arranged marriage," you explained, your words tumbling out in a rush. "My family... they've been planning it for months. I only just found out."

Illumi's gaze never wavered, his face an unreadable mask. "I see."

The silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating. You longed to reach out to him, to bridge the sudden chasm that seemed to have opened up at your feet, but something held you back.

"Illumi," you began, your voice barely above a whisper. "I..."

But before you could continue, he was rising to his feet, his movements graceful and fluid despite the tension that radiated from every line of his body.

"Congratulations," he said, his tone clipped and formal. "I'm sure you'll make a lovely bride."

And with that, he was gone, disappearing into the shadows of the forest like a wraith. You sat there for a long time, your heart aching with a pain you couldn't quite name.

In the days that followed, you threw yourself into the preparations for your wedding, determined to push all thoughts of Illumi from your mind. But even as you selected flowers and tried on gowns, you couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right.

It wasn't until the night before your wedding, as you sat alone in your room, staring blankly at your reflection in the mirror, that a familiar figure appeared at your window.

Illumi slipped into your room as silently as a shadow, his dark eyes finding yours in the dim light. For a moment, you simply stared at each other, the weight of all that had been left unsaid hanging heavy in the air between you.

"I have a mission," Illumi said at last, his voice flat and emotionless. "I thought you might want to accompany me, for old times' sake."

You hesitated, your heart torn between the desire to be with him and the knowledge that you had a duty to fulfill. But in the end, the pull of your history together was too strong to resist.

"Alright," you agreed, rising to your feet. "But I need to be back before morning. I can't be late for my own wedding."

Illumi's expression remained impassive, but you thought you caught a flicker of something in his eyes - anger, perhaps, or pain. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, and he simply nodded, motioning for you to follow him out into the night.

As you made your way through the darkened streets, a sense of unease began to settle over you. Something about this mission felt different, though you couldn't quite put your finger on what it was.

It wasn't until you arrived at your destination - a small, nondescript apartment building on the outskirts of town - that you realized the truth.

"Illumi," you said slowly, your heart beginning to pound in your chest. "What are we doing here?"

He didn't answer, simply led you up a flight of stairs and down a narrow hallway. When he stopped in front of a door and produced a key from his pocket, you felt a sudden surge of panic.

"Illumi, what is this place?" you demanded, your voice rising in pitch. "What's going on?"

He turned to face you then, his expression as cold and remote as you had ever seen it. "This is your new home," he said simply. "You'll be staying here from now on."

You stared at him in disbelief, your mind reeling as you tried to make sense of his words. "What are you talking about? I can't stay here, I have a wedding to attend. I have a life to get back to."

Illumi's gaze bore into yours, a flicker of something dark and possessive in his eyes. "You don't have to go back," he said, his voice low and intense. "You can stay here, with me. We can be together, like I've always wanted."

A chill ran down your spine as the realization dawned on you. Illumi's feelings for you ran deeper than you had ever imagined, and now, he was trying to keep you here against your will.

"Illumi," you said, your voice trembling. "I care for you so much, but I don't love you. Not in the way you want me to."

For a moment, Illumi's mask slipped, and you caught a glimpse of the pain and desperation that lurked beneath the surface. But just as quickly, his expression hardened, and he took a step towards you.

"You will love me," he said, his voice quiet but filled with a chilling intensity. "In time, you'll see that this is where you belong. With me."

You backed away from him, your heart pounding in your chest. "Illumi, please, don't do this. Let me go."

But he shook his head, a small, humorless smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I can't do that," he said. "I've waited too long, wanted you for too long. I won't let you go now."

With a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you realized that you were trapped. Illumi had planned this all along, had lured you here under false pretenses so that he could keep you for himself.

As he advanced on you, his dark eyes glittering with a possessive light, you knew that you would have to find a way to escape. Because the man standing before you now was not the Illumi you had known and cared for.

Your mind raced as you tried to think of a way out of this situation. Illumi stood between you and the door, his body language making it clear that he had no intention of letting you leave.

"Illumi, please, think about what you're doing," you pleaded, trying to keep your voice calm and steady. "This isn't right. You can't keep me here against my will."

But Illumi merely shook his head, his expression unwavering. "You'll understand in time," he said, his voice soft but unyielding. "This is for the best. For both of us."

He took a step towards you, and you instinctively backed away, your eyes darting around the room in search of an escape route. But there was nowhere to go, no way out except through the door that Illumi now blocked.

Desperation clawed at your throat as you realized the hopelessness of your situation. You had always thought of Illumi as your friend, someone you could trust and rely on. But now, as he stood before you, his eyes dark with a possessive hunger, you realized just how little you truly knew him.

"If you do this," you said, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to keep it steady, "you'll regret it. You'll lose me forever, Illumi. Is that really what you want?"

For a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of doubt in his eyes, a momentary hesitation that gave you a glimmer of hope. But then his jaw tightened, and he shook his head once more.

"I won't lose you," he said, his voice low and intense. "I can't lose you. You're mine, and I won't let anyone else have you."

He reached for you then, his hand closing around your wrist in an iron grip. You struggled against him, but it was no use - he was too strong, too determined.

As he dragged you deeper into the apartment, your heart sank with the realization that there would be no escape, no rescue. Illumi had planned this too well, had made sure that no one would come looking for you until it was too late.

And so, as Illumi pulled you into a small, dimly lit room and pushed you down onto a narrow bed, you forced yourself to take a deep breath, to clear your mind of the panic and fear that threatened to consume you.

As Illumi stood over you, his gaze intense and unwavering, you could sense the turmoil raging within him. For a brief moment, his eyes flickered to the small box on the nearby dresser, and you knew exactly what he was thinking. The Nen needles. A part of him desperately wanted to use them, to ensure that you would never leave his side.

But just as quickly as the thought had crossed his mind, Illumi dismissed it. He knew that you were too familiar with his technique, having learned it alongside him all those years ago. You would detect the needle's presence easily, and any trust that remained between you would be shattered irreparably.

Instead, Illumi sat down on the edge of the bed, his movements slow and deliberate. He reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek with a gentleness that caught you off guard. "I don't want to force you," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I want you to choose to stay with me."

Despite the fear and confusion swirling within you, you couldn't help but lean into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed for the briefest of moments. When you opened them again, Illumi was watching you intently, his gaze filled with a longing that made your heart ache.

In the days that followed, a strange sort of routine developed between you and Illumi. He would leave early in the mornings, off to attend to his duties as an assassin, but he always made sure to return by nightfall. You spent your days exploring the small apartment, marveling at the care and attention to detail Illumi had put into creating this space for you.

There were bookshelves lined with your favorite novels, a closet filled with clothes tailored to your exact measurements, a room filled with all the souvenirs Illumi brought you, and a kitchen stocked with all of your favorite foods. It was as if Illumi had been studying you for years, memorizing every little detail about you.

At night, he would cook dinner for the two of you, his movements precise and graceful as he navigated the kitchen. You would sit at the counter, watching him work, and for a moment, lost in the domesticity of it all, you could almost forget the circumstances that had brought you here.

As the weeks passed, you found yourself drawn to Illumi in ways you had never expected. He was attentive and gentle, always seeming to know exactly what you needed before you even had to ask. He would hold you close at night, his arms wrapped around you as you drifted off to sleep, and in those moments, you could almost believe that this was where you truly belonged.

But then the morning would come, and reality would come crashing back down around you. You were still a prisoner, still trapped in this apartment with a man who refused to let you go. And no matter how tender his touch or how sweet his words, you knew that you could never truly be happy here.

One night, as you lay in bed beside him, Illumi turned to you, his eyes searching your face in the dim light. "Do you think you could ever love me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You hesitated, your heart constricting painfully in your chest. "I don't know," you answered honestly, your voice trembling slightly. "I care for you, Illumi. I always have. But this... this isn't love. This is something else entirely."

Illumi was silent for a long moment, his gaze never leaving yours. When he finally spoke again, his voice was soft and tinged with a sadness that made your heart ache. "I know," he said. "But I can't let you go. I won't."

And with those words, you knew that your fate was sealed. You were bound to Illumi, now and forever, trapped in a twisted love story that could only end in heartbreak. But even as despair threatened to overwhelm you, a small part of you clung to the hope that someday, somehow, you would find a way to break free.

Until then, you would endure. You would survive. And you would never stop fighting for the life you had always dreamed of, even if it meant leaving behind the man who had once been your everything.

You seized your chance on a crisp autumn morning, slipping out of the apartment while Illumi was away on a mission. Your heart raced as you navigated the unfamiliar streets, every shadow and sound making you jump with fear. But beneath the terror was a flicker of hope, a small, stubborn flame that refused to be extinguished.

For days, you ran, never staying in one place for too long. You knew Illumi would be searching for you, his skills as an assassin making him a formidable pursuer. But you were determined to outmaneuver him, to find a way to disappear and start anew.

As the weeks turned into months, you began to breathe a little easier. You found work in a small town, renting a tiny apartment under an assumed name. Slowly, you started to build a life for yourself, one free from the suffocating weight of Illumi's obsession.

But even as you tried to move on, thoughts of Illumi never strayed far from your mind. In quiet moments, you would find yourself wondering where he was, what he was doing. A part of you missed him desperately, longing for the comfort of his embrace and the familiar rhythm of your life together.

You tried to push those feelings aside, to remind yourself of the fear and desperation you had felt in those final days at the apartment. But late at night, when the world was still and silent, you would sometimes allow yourself to imagine a different life, one where Illumi's love for you wasn't tainted by darkness and obsession.

Miles away, Illumi was unraveling. The apartment felt empty and cold without you, every room a reminder of your absence. He spent his days searching for you, his nights poring over maps and surveillance footage, desperate for any clue that might lead him to you.

As the years passed, his obsession only grew. He became a ghost, a shadow of his former self, his every waking moment consumed by the need to find you. His family watched with mild interest, whispering amongst themselves about the toll your disappearance had taken on him.

But Illumi barely noticed them, his mind fixed solely on you. He replayed every moment of your time together, analysing every conversation for hidden meanings, every gesture for signs he might have missed. He cursed himself for not using the Nen needles when he had the chance, for not ensuring that you could never leave his side.

In his darkest moments, he would imagine finding you, dragging you back to the apartment and never letting you go. He would make you understand, he told himself. He would make you see that you belonged with him, that your love for each other was something rare and precious, worth fighting for.

But as more time passed with no sign of you, a small, insidious doubt began to creep into Illumi's mind. What if you truly didn't love him? What if all of his efforts, all of his sacrifices, had been for nothing? The thought was too painful to bear, and so he pushed it aside, burying himself even deeper in his search for you.

It was on a moonless night, as you lay in your bed, that you sensed his presence. Your heart raced as you sat up, your eyes straining to see in the darkness. And there he was, standing in the shadows, his gaze fixed upon you with an intensity that stole your breath.

"Illumi," you whispered, your voice trembling. "How did you find me?"

He moved towards you, his footsteps silent on the hardwood floor. "I never stopped searching," he said softly, his hand reaching out to caress your cheek. "I couldn't let you go."

You leaned into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed for the briefest of moments. When you opened them again, Illumi's face was mere inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin.

And then, before you could even think to resist, he was kissing you. His lips were soft and insistent, his hands tangling in your hair as he pulled you closer. For a moment, you lost yourself in the sensation, your body melting against his as years of pent-up longing and desire came rushing to the surface.

But as Illumi's hands began to roam, sliding beneath the thin fabric of your nightgown, a flicker of unease stirred within you. Something about his touch felt different, almost clinical in its precision.

And then, with a sudden, sickening jolt of realization, you understood. The Nen needle. Illumi was trying to use one of his needles on you, to bend your will to his own and ensure that you would never leave his side again.

Panic surged through you, and you wrenched yourself away from him, your heart pounding in your chest. "No," you gasped, backing away from the bed. "I won't let you do this to me."

Illumi's eyes narrowed, his hand still outstretched. "Y/N, please," he said, his voice low and urgent. "I love you. I just want us to be together."

But you shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks. "This isn't love, Illumi," you said, your voice breaking. "This is obsession. And I won't be a prisoner to it any longer."

With those words, you turned and fled, racing out of the apartment and into the night. You ran blindly, your feet carrying you through the darkened streets, your mind reeling with the horror of what had almost happened.

You didn't know how long you ran, or how far. But when you finally came to a stop, your lungs burning and your legs aching, you found yourself in a place you hadn't seen in years.

The forest. The place where you and Illumi had first met, where you had spent countless hours together as children, exploring and dreaming and falling in love.

The forest was a blur of green and brown as you ran, your feet pounding against the damp earth, your lungs burning with each ragged breath. The trees seemed to close in around you, their branches reaching out like grasping fingers, as if trying to hold you back, to keep you from escaping.

You risked a glance over your shoulder, your heart hammering in your chest. You couldn't see him, but you knew he was there, somewhere in the shadows, tracking your every move. You had always known it would come to this, that he would never let you go, not really.

The leaves rustled overhead, a whisper of sound that made your skin prickle with fear. Was it just the wind, or was it something else, something more sinister? You forced yourself to keep moving, to focus on the path ahead, on the faint promise of safety that lay beyond the trees.

But even as you ran, you could feel his presence, like a weight pressing down on you, a shadow that clung to your every step. He was relentless, unstoppable, a force of nature that would never rest until he had you in his grasp.

You had thought you could outsmart him, that you could outrun your past and start anew. But now, as the forest closed in around you and the sound of his footsteps echoed in your ears, you realized the terrible truth.

He would always be there, lurking in the darkness, waiting for you. And no matter how far you ran, no matter how hard you tried to escape, you would never truly be free.

The snap of a twig behind you made your heart lurch in your chest. You whirled around, your eyes wide with terror, searching the shadows for any sign of movement. But there was nothing, only the endless sea of trees and the suffocating silence of the forest.

You took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to calm the frantic pounding of your heart. You had to keep going, to push yourself harder, faster. You couldn't let him catch you, couldn't let him drag you back to the life you had fought so hard to escape.

But even as you turned to run again, you couldn't shake the feeling that it was already too late. That no matter what you did, no matter how fast you ran, he would always be right behind you, a shadow that would never let you go.

You pushed yourself harder, your muscles screaming in protest as you tore through the underbrush. Branches whipped at your face, leaving stinging cuts on your cheeks, but you barely felt the pain. All that mattered was getting away, putting as much distance between yourself and him as possible.

But then, in a cruel twist of fate, your foot caught on a gnarled root, sending you sprawling to the ground. You hit the earth hard, the breath knocked from your lungs, your ankle twisting painfully beneath you. You tried to scramble to your feet, but your leg wouldn't support your weight, and you fell back to the ground with a cry of pain.

Fear coursed through your veins like ice water as you heard the sound of footsteps approaching, steady and unhurried. You crawled forward, dragging yourself through the dirt and leaves, desperate to put some distance between yourself and your pursuer. But it was no use.

A figure emerged from the shadows, tall and slender, with long black hair that fell like a curtain around his face. Illumi looked down at you, his expression calm and unreadable, as if he were merely out for a leisurely stroll in the woods.

His voice smooth and cold as silk. "You didn't really think you could run from me, did you?"

You stared up at him, your heart pounding in your throat, your body trembling with a mix of fear and exhaustion. "Illumi," you whispered, your voice barely more than a rasp. "Please, just let me go."

He crouched down beside you, his movements graceful and deliberate, like a predator sizing up its prey. "Now why would I do that?" he asked, tilting his head to the side. "You belong to me, Y/N. You always have."

He reached out, his long fingers brushing against your cheek, tracing the line of your jaw. You flinched away from his touch, but there was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. He had you trapped, and you both knew it.

"I've been searching for you for so long," Illumi murmured, his eyes boring into yours. "You've led me on quite the chase. But it ends here, Y/N. You're coming back with me, where you belong."

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face. "No," you whispered, your voice breaking. "I can't go back. I won't."

Illumi's lips curved into a smile, but there was no warmth in it, no mercy. "You don't have a choice," he said softly. "You never did."

He reached for you then, his hands closing around your arms like steel bands, dragging you to your feet. You struggled against him, but it was like fighting against a wall of stone. He was too strong, too fast, too ruthless.

As he pulled you through the forest, his grip unyielding, you felt a sense of dread settle over you. You knew where he was taking you - back to the Zoldyck estate, back to the life you had fought so hard to escape.

The house loomed before you, a dark, foreboding presence amidst the trees. Illumi dragged you inside, ignoring your protests and pleas for mercy. He pulled you up the stairs, his footsteps echoing in the silence, until you reached his room.

He pushed you inside, locking the door behind him with a soft click. You stumbled, your injured ankle throbbing with pain, and collapsed onto the bed, your chest heaving with exertion and fear.

Illumi stood over you, his eyes glittering with a possessive light. "This is where you belong, Y/N," he said, his voice soft and dangerous. "With me, forever. And I'll make sure you never forget it again."

You closed your eyes, a sob catching in your throat as you realized the hopelessness of your situation. Illumi would never let you go, never allow you to escape the twisted love he had mistaken for devotion.

And as he lowered himself onto the bed on top you, his hands reaching for your wrists once more, you knew that your fate was sealed. You belonged to him, body and soul.

Your fate was sealed. Your freedom was gone. And there was no escape.

The weight of Illumi's body pressed down upon you, pinning you to the soft mattress beneath. His scent enveloped you, a heady mix of cologne and something uniquely him - dangerous, alluring, inescapable. In the dim light of the room, his eyes gleamed with a dark intensity, boring into your very soul.

"Please..."

But Illumi's hands were already on your wrists, his long fingers encircling them like shackles, holding you in place. His lips found yours, demanding and possessive, stealing the very breath from your lungs. You could feel the heat of his skin against your own, the racing of his heart as it beat in tandem with yours.

There was no escaping his love, no denying the depth of his feelings for you. It had always been there, simmering beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to consume you both.

"I love you," Illumi murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

It was a confession, a plea, a desperate attempt to make you understand. He loved you more than anything, more than anyone. His love was a force of nature, all-encompassing and inescapable, and it would never let you go.

And even as you lay there, trapped beneath him, a part of you understood. Deep down, in a place you had tried so hard to deny, you knew that your own feelings for him ran just as deep.

It wasn't just obsession that bound you together.

It was love.

True, twisted, all-consuming love.

The kind that could never be let go of, the kind that would follow you into the afterlife.

Illumi's hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears that had begun to fall. His touch was gentle now, almost reverent, as if he were handling the most precious thing in the world.

"I love you, too,"

And as Illumi's mouth claimed yours once more, as his hands began to roam over your body with a fevered urgency, you knew that there was no going back. You were his, and he was yours, bound together by a love that defied reason and logic.

In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the years you had spent running from him, not the life you had tried so hard to build without him. All that existed was the feel of his skin against yours, the heat of his breath mingling with your own, the overwhelming sensation of being loved so completely, so fiercely, that it burned away everything else.

You surrendered to him then, your body arching against his, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. The world outside ceased to exist, fading away until there was nothing left but the two of you, lost in a passion that consumed you both.

And so, as Illumi's hands slid beneath your clothes, as his lips traced a burning path down your neck, you gave yourself to him completely. You surrendered to the love that had bound you together, the love that had haunted your every waking moment.

Your heart raced, your breath coming in short gasps as he explored your body with a desperation that matched your own. The last vestiges of your sanity were torn away as Illumi's fingers dipped between your legs, stroking your clit with a skill and precision that left you reeling. He dipped his fingers inside you, his lips sucking another mark onto your collarbone, letting out a soft groan as he feels your tight, velvety walls squeeze around his fingers.

You cried out his name, clutching at his shoulders, your nails digging into his flesh. His touch was overwhelming, but it wasn't enough. You needed more, needed to feel him, needed him to consume you.

As if reading your mind, Illumi's fingers curled inside you, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. Your head fell back, and you arched against him, desperate for release. He picked up the pace, sinking his teeth onto your jugular just as begins to drill his fingers into your sopping wet pussy, the soft squelches emanating throughout the room.

Illumi pulled away, and you felt a twinge of disappointment. But it was soon replaced by anticipation as you watched him undress. His body was a thing of beauty, lean and powerful, his skin smooth and flawless. Your breath caught in your throat as your eyes slowly traveled lower, fixing on the faint trial of black hair growing beneath his navel, disappearing below the waistband of his pants.

"Illumi," you whispered, reaching out to him. "Please."

He was on you in an instant, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss. His hands roamed your body, teasing and tormenting, leaving you aching for more. He moved down, his tongue tracing the curves of your breasts, the hollow of your navel, the juncture of your thighs.

You trembled with desire, your need for him growing with every passing second.

"Illumi, I can't... I can't take it anymore," you gasped, your body on fire.

He rose above you, his dark eyes glittering with passion. He reached down and stroked his cock, and you could see that translucent droplet of precum pearling at the tip.

"Say it again," he growled, his voice husky with desire.

"I can't take it anymore," you repeated, barely able to get the words out.

"You want me," he said, a statement, not a question.

"Yes, yes, I want you."

With a groan, Illumi entered you, filling you completely. You clung to him, your legs wrapping around his hips, your body arching against his.

It was as if you were made for each other, your bodies fitting together perfectly, the friction between you building with every thrust. Your moans mingled, your breath coming in ragged gasps, as you raced toward the peak of pleasure.

Then, as Illumi's hand reached between your bodies to stroke your clit again, the dam finally broke, and you fell over the edge, crying out his name. Your body shook, your muscles tensed, as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

Illumi's climax was just as intense, his hips thrusting against yours as he spilled himself inside you. His hands gripped your hips, his body trembling with the force of his release.

In that moment, there was nothing but the two of you, bound together by love and desire. It was everything you had dreamed of and more.

"I love you."

[uranometrias]

✮ꜜ : ❛ guilt's a motherfucker : spencer reid x fem! reader

pairing: spencer reid x bau! reader

summary: denial was an art, especially in a field like the one that you worked in. as a profiler, it was almost impossible for anyone to pull the wool over your eyes. you'd spent enough time with your team to know that this gift, this specific sort of perception was not something you were immune to either. meaning, no matter how much you tried to keep things a secret, someone on your team was bound to read right through you. especially spencer. 🔱 ━━ alternatively: the one where your inability to say what you want leads spencer to accept the affections of someone else.

content warnings: i think this could be considered angst . spencer reid having a crush on reader. reader being jealous of spencer getting attention from someone else. cute friendship between derek+ emily + reader. reader is the youngest on the team. set in s6, pre- jj’s departure.

read part two here

“You doing alright, babygirl?” Derek’s voice isn’t hard to miss, and the obvious smugness that was attached made your eyes roll. You knew from the moment that you’d leaned forward in your chair, lips pulling down into a deep pout that someone would clock you and quite quickly put two and two together. You didn’t mean to be obvious, in fact, usually you did a much better job at keeping your cool. However, there was something glaringly different today.

Spencer had gone for a new look, you remembered the day he walked in with his hair freshly cropped, shoulder-length tresses replaced with what Hotch had affectionately referred to as "boy band" hair. The rest of the team had laughed, you'd even cutely hid your own snicker behind your hand, but you couldn't deny that it fit him. It was flattering, dare you say cute as hell. In the weeks that followed though, he'd went even shorter, gone were all traces of boy band.

The look he sported now was distracting, incredibly so. He looked good, and it seemed you weren't the only that seemed to notice.

"She's eating him with her eyes." you grumble, arms crossing as Derek comes up behind you. He's got his chin pressed to your shoulder, following your line of sight, as a boisterous laugh escapes him. "It's not funny, Derek." this hiss of yours only seems to fuel his amusement as he starts to chuckle even louder.

"You've been mean mugging that girl since she walked in this morning." Derek rounds your desk now, obstructing your view of the betrayal taking place across the bullpen. It was a slow day, a good day. No cases, but loads of paperwork. Your desk was covered in nothing but files, some you'd started, some you'd finished. You're still cross, but you allow yourself to look up at your long time friend.

"I'm not mean mugging." you huff, blinking slow as you think over your clear fib. "There's just something in my eye." you whisper, and it's not convincing. You can tell by the way Derek's bag chuckling.

"Yeah, a green monster." he retorts quickly, and you can't deny the way it catches you off guard, as a choked laugh at your own expense escapes you. "Jealousy's not a good look on you, little bit." he hums and you droop, because of course you know that. "Why don't you just talk to the guy? Look him in the eye and tell him straight up how you're feeling?" he asks, and despite all his jokes and quips, Derek Morgan was perceptive, and he cared about you.

"That's a horrible idea." you exclaim, and your entire body jerks back, recoiling as if you'd been stung. "God, aren't you supposed to be some kind of smooth criminal?" your eyebrows quirk upward, "What type of advice is that?" you proceed, and Derek's bemused, looking down at you as he waits for you to finish your spiel.

"Just tell him straight up how you feel?" you deepen your voice to mock his, "Why don't I just run around the bullpen in underwear too, since we're doing dumb things." you huff, and your dramatics are amusing. They always have been. You'd been a member of the team going on two years, and you'd made a mark so deep it almost felt like you'd always been a part of the Unit.

You were a stark contrast to Emily and JJ, and a complete 180 from the angsty bombshell that had been Elle Greenaway. You were a wide-eyed 20-something year old that still had so much light behind your eyes, and a hope that you wouldn't shake. You had a way of making everyone laugh. You could pull anyone out of their heads, even Hotch, who Derek had caught many times fighting back small content smizes as you took the team's mind off the gore of the job.

"That's one way to get attention." he hums, and you huff again.

"Derek, you're not being helpful. If you're just here to laugh at my misery, I'm gonna start rethinking your place in my life." you hum, and you lean forward, chin resting against your palms. Derek appraises you, head tipping to the side as he offers you a charming grin.

"All I'm saying is, you've been crushing on the kid since you got here." he reminds you, and your frown deepens. "And the world wont be blind forever." he mumbles, and you know what he means. Spencer Reid to you had always been the most beautiful guy, but he'd been buried under mountains of trauma and insecurities that he had never been able to accept that. With time though, Spencer had begun to blossom, and this new haircut seemed to be a testament of this.

He was coming into himself, there was a new confidence budding in his steps, less stammers between phrases, and you didn't really have to fight for eye contact much anymore. He was still Spence, and in his words, he was far from an Alpha Male, but he could be. And he would be, you just knew it. Which meant that the more confident he became, the more women would see him the way you saw him. Damn. Derek sees the way the cogs in your mind move, and he sighs.

"Take it from someone who's been around-." you can't help but to insert with your own little quip. "What are you calling yourself a dog?" you tease, and his eyes roll, but he still grins wide.

"Listen." he stretches the word a bit, and he's looking you right in the eye. You can see sympathy swirling through the pretty pools of brown, and you believe that maybe if you were a bit older, and had met Derek first, you'd be swooning for him the way you were swooning for Spencer. You shake these thoughts of his beauty away, as you give him the space to speak freely. "I know what it's like to miss a window." he reminds you. "Rejection's a bitch." he adds.

True. It was precisely why you'd never bothered to say anything to Spencer. You got through life by pretending things were fine, by making a joke out of the hard stuff. You wouldn't be able to handle opening your heart to someone, and being told 'No'. That you weren't good enough, that you weren't what they needed. Maybe that was selfish, rejection was a part of life. It was necessary, but still. You'd rather deal with your unresolved issues alone. You saw no need to bring Spencer into conversations about your feelings for him at all.

"But guilt's a motherfucker." and Derek's words stop you short. You blink. What was worse? The sting that rejection could cause or the gaping hole that guilt would bring? The thought of getting an invite to a wedding day for a future Mr. and Mrs. Spencer Reid while you sitll held romantic feelings close to your chest made you want to vomit. Perhaps Derek had a point. At least if Spence turned you down with time the two of you could work around it, become friends again.

If you never said anything though, you'd have no right to be angry or hurt or jealous if some woman with much more confidence than you managed to swoop in and knock him off his feet Damn, you hated when Derek was right. His chuckle is what alerts you that your begrudging inner thoughts had been uttered aloud.

"What's Derek right about?" you smell the familiar scent of Prentiss' perfume before you see her face. It's subtle but comforting, and it makes you unconsciously relax in your seat. Derek's moving out of your line of sight, and you're met with the sight of Spencer still talking to the woman. She had a firm grip on a mug of coffee in one hand, her other hand leisurely tracing circles on Spencer's arms. You inhale sharply, swiveling in your seat as you turn to face Emily.

"Everything." Derek takes the swing, winking as you and Emily share a dry glance. He then subtly nods his head towards the woman crowding Spencer at the kitchenette and Emily's lips form a thin line of understanding. She turns to you, hand resting on your shoulder as she gives it a firm squeeze.

"Don't you think it's time to take a swing?" she offers, and you hate that immediately she falls into step with Derek. The duo forming a united front against you to ensure you put your big girl pants on and tell him the way you're feeling. "Here's an idea," And Emily's looking for a second to make sure Spencer is still too preoccupied to make his way over. "You've been trying to find someone to go with you to that new movie... what was it?" Emily snaps her fingers.

"Crash of the-" you cut her off with a deep sigh.

"Clash... it's Called Clash of the Titans." you mutter, and you pout. You had been trying to convince Emily, JJ, and Penelope to give the action film a shot. What could be better than watching Sam Worthington run across your scream for nearly two hours as you're transported to Ancient Greece? But, alas... the girls were far more interested in other things. In truth, they'd all agreed that they'd prefer to see something a little less packed with gore and violence.

Just for a change of pace.

You couldn't slight them for their polite rejection of your plans. The last case you'd been on had been especially taxing and nightmare inducing. "Why don't you ask him instead?" she hums, and you look over at the chatting duo, they'd really been talking for a while. There's this easygoing sort of look on Spencer's face, and the beauty across from him has turned about the same shade of red as the lipstick smeared across her full pout.

"Looks like she beat me to it." you mutter, and you think maybe God hates you, because as you let the words out, the girl is beaming even brighter, slipping something she'd written on a napkin into the palm of his hand. She offers a flirty wink before she's sashaying off, hips moving from side to side as she makes her way back to her own little cubby. "Ah well, who cares?" you try your hand at playing nonchalant. "It's not like I was in love with him or anything."

And the thing about Denial was that you'd spent so long making it your security blanket that you often forgot you were working with some of the most brilliant minds the FBI had ever produced.

Derek pats your shoulder, he's sympathetic to your plight. He was probably the only person you had been the most forthcoming with about these feelings you harbored. Emily frowns, and she offers you a side hug, chin resting on the top of your head. Their comfort makes you feel better, but the coil of feelings in your gut only seems to tighten. You wanted to be alone, you'd been perceived enough, if any of them pushed any further you may have broken into tears.

"I-I should get back to work." you mutter quietly, and they both know what you're doing. For once they resist the urge to comment, and they leave you be. Your desk was farthest away from the rest of the team. You and Hotch had agreed it was necessity. You could focus more when your back was to the rest of them. You let out a quiet sigh, fingers drumming against the table as you swallowed your emotions. You tiredly reach for an unfinished file, flipping it open.

Blurry words peer back at you, and you're shocked to realize that despite all your efforts you were still about to cry. Fuck.

You close your eyes, counting up to thirty in both english and spanish, by the time you'd finished breathing treinta under your breath, you had a new guest in front of you. Spencer stretched up for what felt like miles, his eyebrows furrowed as he stood before your desk with a look of confusion on his face. "Hey, are you alright?" he asks, and his voice always has this tenderness throughout.

"J-Just fine." and your stammer gives you away. Your voice is coated with mucus, a surefire signal that you were about a few seconds shy of having an immature meltdown. How silly of you to be this shaken up over the prospect of Spencer being with someone else. How dare you? You didn't even have the balls to admit that your playful flirting was just you overcompensating for the fact you couldn't do it foreal.

"I read somewhere that breathing exercises help you get through boring things." you motion to the file, and you've perfected your fake grin. Spencer doesn't look convinced, but he plays along.

"Oh, yeah? Where'd you read that?" he asks and you blanche.

"Uh. Just somewhere." you answer, and he's raised both his eyebrows. You recover quickly, clearing your throat. "You've replaced me, huh?" you ask, and you're playing it off like one of your jokes. Spencer looks shocked for a second, before he tips his head to the side as he looks down at you as if you were the most important thing in his world. If only.

"What do you mean?" he pries, and you motion with your head to the coffee station.

"Found another pretty girl to boost your head up, huh?" you mutter, and there's this flash. Something you can't quite catch, mostly because you're not in the mood to profile and analyze what all his facial expressions meant now. "You guys looked like you were having a good time." you add, and you hope you don't sound bitter. Jealousy or not, if Spencer was happy, you'd be happy too. You'd try.

"Yeah." he replies, and his face is turning red. "S-She was just being nice." he answers, and you hate that the first thing you notice is how he hasn't said 'No, I haven't replaced you.' You sour all the more.

"That's nice, Spence." you hum, and it's clear you've now become uninterested. So much for trying.

Still, Spencer was nothing if not selectively oblivious. You guys had been playing this game for almost a year, he wasn't going to make it easy for you to cop out and make him the bad guy. "She actually asked me to go see-" the rest of his joy-ridden words are mush in your head, and you can imagine how unamused you looked as you half-listened to him go on about how they were going out Saturday.

Yippee.

You don't mean to be rude, not really. But you couldn't bring yourself to listen to anymore. "Congratulations, Spencer." you cut him off abruptly. "But I've got to finish this, so if you could just-" and you're ushering him off as he stares at you aghast.

"What's your problem?" he pries, and you blink owlishly.

"Nothing." you insist, and you look over your shoulder. The team was not-so-subtly watching the exchange. Typical.

"I find that hard to believe." Spencer retorts, and he's got this unimpressed look on his face, like he knows something you don't. His genius has never irked you before, but right now it just makes you feel more perceived. Like he knew how you felt and was rubbing this all in your face. He couldn't possibly be that cruel though, right?

"Well that's not really my problem is it?" you snap, and Spencer's reaction is instantaneous. His scoff rings in your ears.

"Yeah, actually it is." he shoots back, and you rear back in surprise. What was that supposed to mean. "You know this is getting really old." and your strangled gasp escapes you before you can stop it.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" you narrow your eyes as you set your glare on him. He's got his own challenging sort of glance on his face, almost like he's daring you to keep playing dumb. You will. If only to push him to spit out whatever was so clearly sitting on the tip of his tongue. "Go on. Please tell me, Mr. All knowing." you press and his eyes roll. You look like a perturbed toddler ready to fling yourself on the ground and scream.

"Grow up." is all he says, and it slices you clean in half. "If you're gonna play the role of the jealous little girl, at least respect me enough to not play dumb about it when you're caught." and then he's leaving you sitting at your desk, and you're gawking.

Fuck.

[sometimesanalice]

just thinking about “like I can” bradley on this fine Thursday evening (and every other day)

Oh my god, you and me both! (He’s never not on my mind, let’s be honest 😂) Cozy, domestic Bradley has been both the bane of my existence and the object of all my desires of late.

Delicate Sensibilities

Summary: After a long week and having spent too many days apart, Bradley gives his girlfriend quite the eyeful.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 1.5k

Bradley’s lounging on his couch half watching the game on tv and half aimlessly scrolling on his phone waiting for you to get home.

You’ve been having to work late most days this week because of some tight deadlines with a difficult client. He feels like he’s barely seen you in the past four days.

And it didn’t help that you’d slept at your place last night.

Alone. Without him.

Coyote had even accused him earlier tonight of moping and bringing down the vibe at the Hard Deck. Which he wasn’t wrong and Bradley can own up to it. He was definitely guilty of sulking.

He just missed you.

It’s all he can do to try and play it cool- the game completely forgotten- when he hears open his front door, letting yourself in with the key he’d given you.

You’d technically had one since you first moved to San Diego. One that had been for emergencies back when the two of you were just friends. But he’d made a big show of giving you a new one a few weeks back when he’d realized that he’d mwanted you to have one as his girlfriend. It was a distinction he’d felt was important to make, it wasn’t a step he’d wanted to miss out on taking with you.

As he’d expected, you’d taken the opportunity to tease him about. “Oh, you love me,” you’d practically sang, as he took the old one off your keychain and replaced it with the new one. But he’d seen the look in your eyes as you traced the shiny new key with your finger when you thought he wasn’t looking.

Bradley hears you drop your things to the floor with a heavy thunk, he can practically feel the withering glare you’re probably giving your work tote and laptop as you kick off your shoes with a clatter one by one.

He counts your soft footsteps, knowing each one brings you that much closer to him. His torso already turned towards the entryway to see you the moment you step into frame.

And then there you are.

Your face just as familiar to him as his own. He’s known every version of you. The girl he’d grown up with, his best friend, the woman of his dreams. Still his favorite person, then and now.

He thinks he sees your shoulders release the slightest bit when your pretty eyes meet his.

Bradley didn’t realize just how parched he’d been for you until he’s drinking you in. It still knocks him in the chest sometimes, that you’re here and you’re his.

“There’s my best girl,” he greets you, hoping to see those dimples of yours.

He can tell you’ve had a long day, an even longer week. You look tired, but you’re still the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“Jesus, Bradley,” you groan.

He sits up straighter, alarmed. “Sweet girl? What’s wrong?”

You heave a full bodied sigh. “I feel like I’ve been hanging on by a thread all week and then I come here and see you like this? It’s like you want me to have a full blown Victorian Crisis.”

The melodramatic way you fling your arms out to the side would make snort under normal circumstances, if he wasn’t still bouncing between confused and concerned.

Bradley looks down at the comfortable clothes he’d thrown on once he got home from being kicked out of the bar for being- as Fanboy called him- a straight up bummer. All he was wearing was his favorite pair of jogger sweatpants and a soft, worn shirt that he’s pretty sure has a hole under the armpit.

But it wasn’t anything you hadn’t seen before. In fact, you’d stolen this particular shirt on more than one occasion. Which now that he thinks about it is probably why he’d gravitated towards it in the first place.

“I- Huh?”

“I mean, look at how much above the ankle skin you’ve got on display over there, Bradshaw.” You point a finger towards his feet, his eyes follow to where the elastic cuff of his pants is slightly pushed up on his calf. “Frankly, it’s indecent.”

He’ll never get tired of that teasing gleam in your eyes. You’re such a menace, but he wouldn’t want it any other way.

Bradley tips his head back against the couch and laughs. “Should I be worried about your delicate sensibilities, kid?”

“That would be nice since you clearly have no consideration for my poor nerves,” you lament, bringing the back of your hand up to your forehead.

“Should I cover up then?” he asks with a smirk.

“Let’s not make any rash decisions. We’re close enough to the seaside that I should make a full recovery. Salt air and all that jazz.”

He lifts an eyebrow and then tugs up the pant leg on the other side. “How are your poor nerves now?”

Bradley sees you fighting to keep from giving into that grin he knows would take over your whole face if you let it. One that would be wide and bright and just for him.

“I toil all day to earn a living and to help the government fund my boyfriend’s paycheck-” Bradley snorts, amused. “And you tease me? In my delicate state?”

He toys with the hem of his shirt before he shucks it off and tosses it to the side. “How about now? Does this make things better or worse?”

You purse your lips together as if you’re pondering, but he doesn’t miss the appreciative way you’re looking at him.

“Unclear,” you say after a minute. “I think I’m too far away, but also I’m pretty sure my distance vision is officially shot.”

“Can’t have you dealing with a Victorian Crisis and eye strain.” Bradley pats his thigh in invitation. “Why don’t come on over here, that way I can catch you if you have a fainting spell.”

“Such a gentleman,” you say, finally walking towards him.

He bites back a moan at the sight of you shimmying up your skirt in front of him, just slightly higher than it needs to be for you to settle yourself on top of him.

His hands come to rest on your hips as you run your fingers through his hair. And low rumble escapes him as your nails gentle scrape against his scalp. The way he’s so gone for you, just one touch and you basically have him purring like a cat.

You lean in and nudge your nose against his.

“I’ve seen too much of a computer screen and not nearly enough of you this week. And all of this, a lot,” you say, gesturing at him. “You’re too damn handsome for your own good. You’re easily the best thing I’ve seen all day, Bradley.”

He feels his ears get warm at your words and the affectionate way you’re gazing at him.

“Think you’ll need some smelling salts if I kiss you?” Bradley asks. He cups your face in his hand, letting his thumb skim over your cheekbone.

“There’s only one way to find out.”

“C’mere,” he murmurs.

Bradley slips his hand behind your neck and pulls you close. You lean into him easily, pliantly, easily. Like being in his lap- in his arms- is the only place you want to be.

There’s no sun flares or orchestral strings, none of the things in those movies you like to put on when you’re stressed or sick. But he knows he can give those ones a run for their money. If there’s one thing he knows how to do, it’s how to kiss you.

He shows you with his mouth just how much he’s been longing for you. How much he needs you. How much he wants you.

Bradley smiles to himself when he hears that hitch in your breath, the way you do when he skims his tongue under your bottom lip. Your arms tightening around his neck as you press yourself against him until there’s not an inch of room between the two of you.

“Missed you,” you hum against his lips. He feels his fingers flex on the soft swells of your hips.

“I missed you too, sweet girl.”

Bradley watches as the corners of your mouth curl upwards, as you twirl some of his hair around your finger. “Oh, I know. Nat texted me a photo of you earlier tonight, you looked like a sad puppy sitting there in the corner by yourself.”

He groans and scrubs a hand down his face.

“But clearly, I didn’t fare much better. The slightest hint of a manly ankle bone and you almost sent me into a state of female hysteria.”

“So, the ankle is what does it for you then, kid?”

“Amongst other things,” you allow, trailing a finger down his chest.

He catches your hand and tangles your fingers with his. “And how are you feeling now? Should I order those smelling salts?”

“I think I’ll manage without them,” you say. “But you should probably kiss me again for good measure”.

“I can do that”, Bradley grins.

He drops kiss after kiss on your cheeks, your nose, your forehead until you’re laughing and smiling with those dimples on full display. Just the way he likes you to be.

Happy and here with him.

[mingi-s-dimples]

dinner table - mingi

pairing: mingi x fem reader

rating: 18+

genre: romance, smut (filth), non idol au

summary: Mingi invited you over after your date so you can spend more time together.

WC: 2k

warnings: non idol au, bf!mingi, oral (f receiving), eating out, cumplay, cumming. cum eating, cunnilingus, established relationship. unprotected (wrap up IRL), completely consensual, fingering, big dick!mingi (obvi), overstim, multiple orgasms, multiple rounds implied, squirting unedited (will def edit the formatting later), for sure forgot sth.

Author's Note: This one took me so long I'm so so sorry 😭😭😭 I started school again and I'm getting a loooot busier than usual so I'll try to post as often as possible but the minimum I can do is one fic per week AHHHH 😞 I loved writing it man 😇 It's delicious (to me)

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Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction & doest not represent in any way the reality of the member.

The crisp autumn air greeted you as you stepped out of your apartment, its coolness invigorating as it brushed against your cheeks. The world around was painted in rich hues of amber, gold, and crimson, the trees standing like sentinels of the season, their leaves fluttering gently to the ground. Every step you took crunched against the scattered leaves, the sound a soft reminder of the season's embrace. Today was a day you had been anticipating with a mix of excitement and nervous energy—your first ever official date with Mingi, your boyfriend. You've been hooking up with him for a while, but you just officialised it some weeks ago.

The two of you had decided to meet at a cozy little café tucked away in the heart of the park, a place that, with its warm atmosphere and large bay windows overlooking the tree-lined path, felt like the embodiment of autumn itself. As you walked along the winding trail, the scent of cinnamon and wood smoke filled the air, blending with the earthy aroma of the fallen leaves. The park was alive with the quiet bustle of couples and families enjoying the day, their laughter mingling with the rustle of the trees. It was the perfect setting, a backdrop that felt as if it had been painted just for this moment.

Your heart fluttered with every step closer to the café, the anticipation growing with each passing second. You spotted Mingi before he saw you, his tall figure unmistakable even from a distance. He was leaning casually against the doorframe, his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat. The soft, golden light of the late afternoon sun framed him in a way that made him seem almost ethereal, like a figure from a dream. His dark hair ruffled slightly in the breeze, and when he looked up and your eyes met, a warm smile spread across his face, instantly melting away the last traces of my nervousness.

You felt a wave of calm wash over you as you approached him, the world around the two of you narrowing until it felt like it was just you and him in that moment. Mingi stepped forward to greet you, his smile widening as he reached out and took your hand, his touch warm against the coolness of the day.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice carrying a warmth that matched the autumn hues around us. "You look amazing."

"Thank you," you replied, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks as you took in the sight of him. He looked effortlessly handsome, his coat hugging his broad shoulders, the color of the fabric harmonizing perfectly with the vibrant scenery around.

You stepped into the café together, the bell above the door chiming softly as you entered. The interior was cosy and inviting, with wooden beams overhead and a fireplace crackling in the corner, casting a warm glow across the room. The smell of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods filled the air, and he found a spot by the window, where you could watch the leaves fall outside as you sipped from the drinks he ordered.

As you settled into the seats, the initial nerves you had felt earlier faded entirely, replaced by a comfortable warmth that spread through you as he began to talk. Mingi's laughter was infectious, and soon you were sharing stories, the conversation flowing effortlessly. The more he talked, the more you realized how much you enjoyed his company, his easygoing nature, a perfect complement to the serene atmosphere around.

Outside, the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the park and painting the world in deeper shades of orange and red. The day felt like a beautiful, slow unfolding, each moment with Mingi more meaningful than the last. The warmth of the café, the crispness of the autumn air, and the simple joy of being with someone who made you feel so at ease—everything felt just right, as if the world had conspired to make this first date something special, something to remember.

As the evening drew closer, the two of you decided to take a walk through the park, hand in hand. The path was lined with trees whose branches arched overhead, creating a tunnel of golden leaves that crunched underfoot. The air was cool, but with Mingi by your side, it felt perfect, each step took together affirming the connection you were beginning to build.

There was some kind of magic in the air, something unspoken yet understood between the two of you, walking in comfortable silence. The day had been everything you could have hoped for and more, a perfect beginning to what felt like the start of something truly special. As you paused by the edge of the pond, watching the reflection of the fiery sky ripple across the water, you knew that this was a moment I would hold onto for a long time—a perfect first date, wrapped in the beauty of autumn and the warmth of newfound affection.

"H-hey so... I know we haven't been together for long but.."

"Hm?" you said, confused.

"You know that when we were hooking up, you came over at my house multiple times to play my favourite video game with me but... would you maybe want to spend the night... with me? I enjoyed spending time with you today, for this first date. I absolutely loved it", Mingi said, taking your hands into his, rubbing to warm them up.

"Y-yes, babe. Why not? We can watch a movie or something" you said, embracing his broat yet comforting body.

"Okay then, let's go" he murmured and held your hand, walking side by side.

*several minutes later, arriving at his apartment*

"Oh, let me" he said, taking off your coat. "Make yourself at home. In case you'd like some snacks, you know where to find them. I'll get us something to drink and I'll turn on whatever movie we haven't seen." he said and got his flip flops on, stepping onto the dark coloured rug in his living room. "Do you have any preference?" you heard him from the kitchen. "Nooo! Choose whatever!" you shouted back. You took out some random snacks and cookies from the cupboard and went back in the living room, taking a seat next to Mingi.

"I put on some kind of romance, I think we've seen it already but I didn't invite you here to watch a movie, necessarily. I wanna spend time with you. Wanna cuddle, maybe... while watching said movie, hm?" he said, embracing you.

"Yup, sounds good. Here, take some cookies, I just got em from your cupboard" you said, giggling, taking one of the cookies out and bringing it up to his lips. He took a bite and smiled at you, his right hand carresing your thigh.

"So... Mingi, babe. How do you feel about the fact that, after weeks, even months of hooking up.. we finally officialised our relationship?" you asked, looking him in the eyes.

"I was.. shy at first, to be honest with you. Like, we've made out in the past and all but the intimacy we later had because of this relationship was top tier. I don't know, I felt really positive about it." Mingi said, confidently.

*about two hours later, still cuddling up with Mingi on the couch, feeling a tad sleepy right as the movie ends, because he carresed your back the whole time*

"Sweetie, are you asleep?" Mingi said, softly.

"N-no, I was just staying still for a moment, why?"

"D-do you remember how the movie started..?" he said, making you a little bit more attentive.

"Yes, what's with that?"

"You know.. I thought we could.. maybe recreate it?" he said, looking in your eyes, his gaze darkening upon seeing your outfit once again for the night.

Oh.

"Mingi, I-" you stuttered.

"It's totally fine if you don-" but you interrupted him by going in for a kiss, which he took as a 'yes'. He then basically jumped on you, like he has been waiting for this moment for an eternity. One of his hands on your waist and one on the nape of your neck, he was all over you.

"Y-know baby, I've been waiting for this moment for so long" he said, breaking the kiss. "You've always looked so good, damn. But I never dared touch you when we were hooking up. This little... almost fragile-like body of yours... I never dared to feel it.. afraid I might destroy it. But now... oh babe, I am not gonna hold myself back." his kisses going from your cheek to your neck, where he softly marked you.

"D-don't hold yourself back-ngh" you stuttered, already feeling heat pooling in your lace panties, as his right hand was finding it's way under your blouse, now resting on your bra, tugging at it softly.

He put one hand under your ass and one on your lower back, holding you close. You couldn't see where he was going, but you were sure of one thing. He wasn't gonna take it slow.

As he placed you on a table, which was in the living room, he stopped for a moment to look at you. He was eye-fucking you, literally.

"God damn, love." his right hand on your waist, the other one under your breast, holding you still, his thumb brushing over the nipple. "You look so fucking good, like this..." his left hand going to your bra, unbuckling it. "Are you sure you're all good with it?" he asked once more.

"Yes. Mingi, please-" you pleaded.

"I thought so." he said as his hand slid your blouse off, your nipples getting harder at the colder sensation, bare in front of him. He then took you off the table for a moment, helped you out of your jeans and panties. You were now completely naked in front of him, Mingi fully clothed. His hard erection straining against his jeans, you were standing in front of him, looking contently from his lips, where you wanted to plant a kiss, to his bulge, which you wanted to take care of. You tugged at his pants for a moment. He smirked at the sight, but he wasn't quite content with your decision, yet.

"Sweetie, you eat your dinner take out or at a restaurant, I eat mine on this table. Get on, now" Mingi said an tapped the table. You did as he said, of course, and in a second he softly pushed you on your back, being careful about your head hitting the hard wood. He dragged you almost to the rim of the table, to which he halfway kneeled in front of you.

"Oh- my god" you said as he tightened his grip on your thighs, keeping you still.

"Spread out, babe. Don't be shy, I wanna see and eat every part of you" the tall man whispered. He left a trail of kisses on your thighs and without warning, his right hand went right between your legs. You lightly flinched at his touch, two of his fingers rubbing your wet folds. His fingers were soflty fondling with your cunt, his kisses getting dangerously closer.

"Stay. Still" Mingi said and started eating you out, his tongue hitting all your sweet spots. You started squirming under him, but he had a death grip on your thighs which you thought it would for sure leave marks later. His sharp and perfect nose hit your clit numerous times, sending shivers down your spine. Nails digging in your hips, his tongue traveling your body in ways you never thought you'd get explored.

"N-this feels so good-" you murmured. When he hears those words, the rytym of his tongue got faster and steadier, sending you over the edge. It didn't take long for the heat in your belly to appear and with a few more nibbing at your clit, the knot that formed in your belly unfolded and you came, some strings of silky white liquid dripping on the man's chin as he stood up.

"You taste so good... But I'm not done with you" Mingi said and took his clothes off, leaving only his briefs on. You softly gasped at his size, the girth and length for sure being way more than you could take (your fingers or the vibrator you bought a while ago whatsoever). His right hand went to your neck without warning and pushed you on the table again, laying flat on the surface, while his left hand brought your legs over his hips, lining his cock right to your hole. You were basically already all prepped up from him eating you out so he pushed himself in without warning, getting a loud moan out of your softly rising chest. He stood like that for a moment then started rapidly pounding you, the dining table moving under your weight and his power.

"You look so hot, babe. All flushed for me" he said and bottomed down, your cheeks indeed being rosy red and your forehead sweaty, your head dizzy and your legs trembling. He was still going at it and you could already feel the total opposite sensation you usually feel and that was... your body being overstimulated and overwhelmed by all that's happening. He couldn't care less tho, he had and wanted to take care of his own erection, to which he was ramming into you with a lot of power and steadiness.

Though, he was getting closer and closer. A quiet string of curses was leaving his lips, hips snapping against your pelvis, your legs bringing him closer and locking him inside you. He took that action as a free pass to finish in your cunt and did so, the feeling of being filled all up by your one and only man sending you over the edge and another knot in your belly unveiling... this time you squirted all over you and him, his face forming into a pleased smirk at the view. He fucked you through his orgasm and slowed down.

""Cmon up, easy" Mingi said and helped you stand up on your own, legs trembling and head dizzy. He looked at you contently and hugged you, giving you soft kisses. The closure he showed and gave you right after he was inches deep inside your cunt warmed your body up, cuddling against his bare skin.

"Let's get you washed up. How... was it?" he softly said and guided you to the bathroom.

"I have no words... it was fucking amazing!" you said.

"Up for a 2nd round?" Mingi winked flirtously at the shower.

"Mingi!"

NETWORKS:

@blossomnet

@illusionnet

TAGLIST:

@mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @gong-fourz @arki-sha @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117

[simplyraeblue]

hunter and hunted (jjk)

college (summer) break au: a fic in which y/n is pining over Yuji's older brother Sukuna, while unbeknownst to her, Choso is doing the same thing for her. contents: sukuna x reader, choso x reader, modern college AU, yuji and choso are brothers, sukuna and yuji are brothers, smut warning

chapter warnings/tags: MDNI, NSWF, smut, oral (f receiving), p in v penetration, rough sex, degradation, no after care, slight non-con, after bruising, sukuna sucks during sex A/N: I never said Sukuna was gonna be a good guy yet... but that doesn't mean I don't plan to try and redeem him. Sukuna is an absolute toxic man at this point, so keep that in mind.

index part five | part seven

part five word count: 2,931

you couldn't quite figure out what had come over Sukuna recently. over the past few days, he seemed to be everywhere you were. after your kiss, he’d been noticeably kinder—or at least less overtly hostile—and he wasn’t completely avoiding you anymore.

“is it just me, or did someone kidnap my brother and replace him with a clone?” Yuji asked, watching as Sukuna offered you a bite of his food before retreating to his room to eat.

you shrugged, trying to play it cool. “probably, but I’m not complaining. if I can get through a day without being cursed out every other sentence, I’m all for it.”

“it’s just weird,” Yuji said, leaning against the counter and staring at the stairs as if expecting answers to materialize. “it’s like he only acts like this around you.”

his comment made your cheeks warm. there was no way he’d figure it out so quickly. “maybe he’s been sipping on some respect women juice?” you suggested with a smile.

Yuji’s face lit up as if a light bulb had gone off. “that’s it! I bet he found a girlfriend!”

you choked on your drink. Yuji’s theory left you sputtering, trying to regain your composure. “uh, yeah, maybe,” you managed to say, still a bit flustered.

Yuji’s excitement was palpable. “it makes sense, right? maybe he’s trying to impress someone.”

you forced a laugh, hoping Yuji wouldn’t press further. “sure, let’s go with that.”

Yuji seemed to accept this explanation, nodding to himself. “well, if it means he’s less of a jerk, I guess I’m okay with it.”

as Yuji wandered off, you found yourself alone with your thoughts, your mind racing. Sukuna's recent change in behavior was a puzzle, and while Yuji’s theory was amusing, you knew there was more to it. a darker truth, a deeper desire burning inside of your bones that would never dare admit to your best friend.

when sukuna emerged from his room later, his usual guarded demeanor was back in place, but there was a hint of something softer in his eyes when he looked at you. it was a stark contrast to the rough exterior he usually wore.

“Yuji’s got a big mouth. could hear him all the way upstairs,” sukuna said gruffly, though there was no real malice in his tone.

you raised an eyebrow, playing along. “yeah, he does. but what’s this about you being a clone?”

sukuna smirked, a trace of his old self peeking through. “I guess I’ll have to keep you guessing.”

as he walked past you, his fingers brushed against yours, sending a shiver up your spine. you weren’t sure if you should push it with him, but you were aching to bring up the kiss. the way he spoke about wanting to see if you were innocent. the feeling of his hands on your hips – and the fact that you were ready to let him do whatever he wished. maybe if you just-

“you’re starin’ at me like I’ve got two heads, doll.” Sukuna’s voice cracked through your thoughts. he tilted his head quizzically at you, trying to read your expression with a smirk. “having a walking wet dream about me?”

“sukuna!” you hissed, whipping around to scan the living room, ensuring that Yuji and Choso were both well out of earshot. “don’t be so crass.”

Sukuna’s smirk only grew as he advanced, his presence forcing you against the counter. “looks like we’re right back to where we were a few days ago,” he drawled, his eyes glinting with mischief.

you felt a flush creep up your neck at the memory, the way it played so vividly in your mind as if it had happened just moments ago. “I thought you’d have forgotten by now.”

Sukuna leaned in, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “if you find yourself feeling lonely tonight, you know exactly where to find me.”

a shiver jolted through your body at his words, and you had to clamp down on the urge to grab his face and pull him into a kiss right there in the kitchen. Sukuna’s low, rumbling chuckle echoed in your ears as he drew back, his eyes dancing with a mischievous glint. with one last, lingering wink, he turned and walked back to his room, leaving you to grapple with the heat of his words and the buzz of his presence still lingering in the air.

you felt like a machine, mechanically going through the motions to get ready to go to bed, the electricity still buzzing inside of you. you combed through your hair (with a little more care than usual), brushed your teeth (maybe a little to vigorously), and applied a lovely, scented lotion. sure, maybe you added some extra steps to your routine, and maybe you slipped on a cuter set of pajamas than usual.

but no matter how much you might have primped, you swore up and down that you wouldn’t be the one to make the first move.

as you lay in bed, struggling to quiet your racing thoughts and falling prey to fantasies that danced through your mind, you heard your phone buzz on the nightstand. you nearly leaped out of bed to grab it, a surge of anticipation and nervous energy rushing through you.

‘Kuna: you up?’

you couldn’t help but chuckle at the audacity of his text—so straightforward, so typical of him. a whirlwind of emotions churned inside you as you debated whether or not to reply. before you could make up your mind, your phone buzzed again.

‘Kuna: get up here.’

your heart skipped a beat. it was as if an invisible string had yanked you from your bed. without a second thought, you slipped out of bed, making sure to close your door quietly behind you. you crept up the stairs as stealthily as possible, the silence of the house amplifying each step you took. when you reached Sukuna’s door, you knocked softly, the anticipation making your pulse race.

when the doorknob turned, Sukuna swung it open, revealing himself in nothing but a pair of sweatpants. your hands were already trembling with nerves, the sight of him in such a casual state sending a jolt of excitement through you. “come in, welcome to my dungeon,” he said with a lopsided grin, stepping aside to let you enter.

as you stepped into the room, a wave of anxiety settled into your stomach. the space before you was one you had always been forbidden from entering—a room even Yuji hesitated to tread. the room was a stark contrast to the rest of the house, a sanctuary that seemed to exude Sukuna’s very essence.

“wow, I feel like I’m breaking some sort of rule by being in here,” you joked, trying to mask your unease as you took in the scene. the room was dark and moody, with deep-toned bedding and a set of weights casually thrown into one corner. heavy metal band posters adorned the walls, each one screaming Sukuna’s personality.

before you could comment further on the eclectic decor, Sukuna closed the distance between you, his hands gripping your hips firmly. he spun you around to face him, his lips crashing into yours with an urgent intensity. “been wanting to do that every damn day,” he growled, his voice rough with longing as he nipped at your lips. the fierceness of his kiss sent shivers down your spine, and all your previous anxiety seemed to melt away under the heat of his touch.

“why haven’t you?” you asked through kisses, your hands already coming around to fist the back of his shirt.

“damn brats all over the place.” he muttered, bringing his hands onto your face. you weren’t surprised by how rough and insistent he was being – your desire to just be touched by him overwhelmed you.

“well, you’ve got me all to yourself now.” you told him as his lips trailed from yours down your neck, biting the skin there and causing you to groan.

he didn’t respond, only guided you backwards until your legs hit the edge of his bed before you laid on your back. Sukuna leaned above you, looking down at you as you stared up at him. maybe, you told yourself, just maybe he was looking at you with actual affection.

“I told you I’ve been wanting to see how innocent you were, now I’ve got the chance.” Sukuna grunted as he dipped his head down to your neck again while his hands began to roam your body. everywhere he touched, everywhere he kissed, left a trail of fire that had your skin burning.

through your heavy, pleasured breathing, you grabbed his face to bring him up to kiss you – but he pulled away to dive into your breasts. you gasped at the contact, feeling him shoving the material up your body and roughly pulling it over your head. “Sukuna,” you squealed, wanting to cover up.

as your arms went to cover yourself, he grabbed your wrists and pinned them over you with one hand. Sukuna immediately latched himself onto one of your perked up nipples, sucking and nipping at them feverishly. when he bit a little too hard, you yelped out, only making him go harder at the sound.

you wanted him to kiss you, but every time you tried to connect your lips with his he buried his face elsewhere. his hand untied your silky shorts, shoving them down your legs. you might’ve thought nothing of it until you felt a cool breeze hitting your already dripping core. he’d taken your panties with your pants.

“Sukuna, maybe we should slow-”

“shh.” he interrupted, letting his grip on your wrist go before moving that hand to cover your mouth. “wanna taste you.”

with your eyes as wide as saucers, you watched as he nuzzled into your heat, quickly licking a stripe through your folds. your back arched and you moaned into his hand at the contact, wanting more. needing more.

as if your reaction told him all he needed to hear, he suddenly slurped up your juices loudly, his tongue diving into your pussy. “Skna,” you whined, muffled by his skin as you squeezed your eyes shut.

“taste s’ good.” Sukuna murmured as he devoured you. instinctively, your thighs began to squeeze shut, clenching his head between them. he didn’t even look up at you as he pulled up from licking you to spit on your clit before taking it between his lips, sucking hard and swirling his tongue around it.

he removed his hand from your mouth to pry one of your legs to the side, gripping it so hard you were sure you’d have bruises in the shape of his fingertips. “Sukuna, feel s’ good.” you rasped as he continued pumping his fingers in and out of you at a faster pace now, every suck of your clit sending you closer and closer to your orgasm.

just as you thought you were about to cum, and were close to warning him, he withdrew his fingers and his mouth, leaving you cold. “need t’ fuck you right now.” Sukuna growled, grasping your hips and flipping you with harsh speed so that you were on your stomach. he slid a hand under you, pulling your hips up so that your ass was in the air. 

“fuck, do you have a condom?” you asked, your body trembling with desire and a tightness in your gut from getting so close to your release.

“no, don’t use ‘em.” you wanted to protest, but you were so desperate for him to just put it inside of you.

you tried to turn your body, so that you could see his face, but his hand shot to the back of your neck and lower back to keep you in place. “stay still f’ me doll.” he groaned, and before you could plead with him to kiss you, you felt his tip teasing your entrance.

when the hell did he take off his pants?

while you weren’t inexperienced with sex, having a few flings over your college years, you were pretty sure it had never been like this. just as you were thinking he’d slowly enter you – just like your past experiences – you shrieked as he shoved his cock fully inside of you.

pain and pleasure seared through you as tears pricked your eyes. “you’re so – fuck – so tight.” Sukuna panted as he wasted no time in bullying his cock inside until it was kissing your cervix.

“you’re – mph – too big, Sukuna.” you moaned, trying to will your walls to stretch for him so that you wouldn’t feel the pain. “s-slow down.”

but he either didn’t hear you over his own pleasure, or didn’t care, because his pace only quickened. “that’s right, doll – hah – take my fat cock like the little slut you are.” Sukuna bit out, snapping his hips into yours with such force that you almost fell forward.

“Sukuna, please—” you whimpered, biting your lip in a desperate attempt to stay quiet. you could barely muster the words, but you needed him to kiss you, to slow down and be gentler.

the hand Sukuna held on to the back of your neck slipped around to grab your throat, pulling your body back to meet his pace. “takin’ it s’ well.” slap. “knew you weren’t innocent.” slap. “gonna be m’ dirty whore.”

with every dirty insult, you tried to tell yourself that he probably just had a degradation kink. he didn’t actually mean those things. with your body still at war between pain and pleasure, you felt him bullying your g spot with his cock and you arrived at the edge yet again.

“Sukuna – ha – slow down – mph – ‘m gonna cum.” you hiccupped, tears rolling down your face now at the stimulation your body was being put through. every time his tip hit your g spot you felt the wave start to crash over you. he didn’t slow down, sending you right over the cliff.

your vision went white as a blazing hot orgasm rocketed through you, your body spasming and clenching around his cock while you tried to keep quiet and not scream his name. even as you rode out your release, he continued bullying into you, harder and faster now as he relished the feeling of you milking him.

“that’s right, cum on this dick.” Sukuna barked, his grip tightening on your throat to the point you were beginning to see stars. his hips snapped into yours more forcefully, echoing lewd, wet slaps through the room as he neared the ledge as well, losing control of his thrusts.

just as you were about to tell him to pull out, since he wasn’t wearing a condom, you felt a twitch inside of you as he let out a loud groan. warmth spread through your pussy, coating your walls with his cum as he rutted into you. “fuck fuck fuck.” he growled out, slamming into you until he was absolutely drained of cum.

you both were panting heavily when he pulled out of you. “that was-” you started to say with a weak smile, until Sukuna practically threw a towel in your direction.

“here, to clean up.” he stated, using a washcloth to clean himself off before pulling up his boxers and sweatpants.

shame rushed through you suddenly. he didn’t even look at you as he went to take a drink of water, merely letting you clean yourself off as you felt his cum seeping out of you. you screamed at him in your mind to just look at you, to kiss you softly and help you clean up the mess he made, to hold you and caress you and to –

“’m gonna crash now.” Sukuna broke through your storm of thoughts, pulling back his blankets and climbing in bed while you still sat on the edge. “maybe you should go back downstairs, so it’s not suspicious in the morning.”

tears welled up in your eyes as you scrambled to put your pajamas back on, your movements hurried and frantic. “y-yeah, that makes sense,” you forced out, trying to sound casual despite the tears now streaming down your cheeks. you refused to turn around, unwilling to let him see you cry. “goodnight,” you mumbled as you opened his door and fled from the room, shutting it quietly behind you.

you stood in the hallway for a moment, feeling numb and disoriented, as if your legs were unable to move on their own. with a sense of zombie-like detachment, you made your way down the stairs, no longer caring about making any noise. you trudged into the bathroom; the fluorescent lights harsh against your tear-streaked face.

you grabbed a wet washcloth and began to clean up, your silent sobs almost breaking through. as you wiped your legs, a sudden sharp pain made you flinch. glancing down, you saw dark bruises beginning to form on your thighs, one set specifically looking like finger markings. panic surged through you, and you rushed to the mirror, your breath hitching as you saw a handprint emerging on your neck and a raw, angry bite mark between your neck and shoulder. the sight made your heart race, and your breathing came in shallow gasps, the reality of what had happened crashing down on you with brutal clarity.

when your head finally hit the pillow, your entire body aching and tears still rolling down your face, you found sleep quickly. and this time, there were no pleasant dreams to make you feel better.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

A/N DISCLAIMER: let me just clarify, this is NOT how sex should be unless both parties' consent to this level of degradation and roughness. if you're into that kind of thing and your partner is too, then by all means have at it! I took this from my own past relationship, and how it was, and I know it was never supposed to be like that. so please, don't think this is normal whatsoever. IT IS NOT. this is purely a work of fiction, and I would never tell anyone that this was okay.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ taglist: @nighttwingg @sweetsformysoul @casualpoetrytaco @lvingd3adg0rl @haikomaiko if you’d like to be added to the taglist for this WIP let me know! ♡ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

[raekensluver]

shadows of the past (3)

part one, part two

description: reuniting with with your ex-boyfriend theodore nott after two years was the moment you had been looking forward to since the war.

pairing: ex-boyfriend!death eater!theodore nott x fem!reader

contains: angst, talks of the war of hogwarts, happy ending!

song rec: love like ghosts by: lord huron- "baby in my eyes you do no wrong"

w.c: 2.5k

an: last part! i'm so excited to complete my first series! i appreciate feedback! let me know what you thought! (original title was broken promises)

the cobblestone streets of the quaint french town were bathed in the warm, golden light of the setting sun. a gentle breeze carried the scent of fresh bread and blooming flowers from nearby windowsills, mingling with the faint whispers of the evening's approaching coolness. your hair dancing in the wind, ambled along the narrow alleyways, your eyes scanning the unfamiliar sights. the war had left its scars, but you were healing, including your heart which had learned to mend. you had moved here to escape the shadows of your past, to start anew, and perhaps, find some semblance of peace.

as you passed the charming, dusty bookstore, something tugged at the corner of your eye. It was a simple place, with a wooden sign creaking gently in the breeze. the allure of the books within was too strong to resist. you pushed open the door, and the familiar scent of aged pages and ink enveloped you like a comforting embrace. the bell chimed a cheerful greeting, and you felt the weight of the world lighten just a bit. the shelves were packed tightly, a maze of stories and knowledge waiting to be discovered. you lost yourself in the aisles, your fingertips tracing the spines of books that whispered promises of adventure and romance.

it was in the shadow of the history section that you saw him. theo. frozen in place, you stared for a moment, unable to believe that after all this time, fate had led you both to this book-filled sanctuary. he looked the same yet different; his eyes had lost the haunted look that had once lingered in their depths, replaced by a softness that made your heart ache with longing. he looked up from the book he was holding, and when your eyes met, time seemed to stop. the pain of the past two years washed over you in a torrent of emotions, but so did the love that had never truly disappeared.

"theodore," you murmured, your voice barely a whisper. he looked up, surprise flitting across his features before they softened into recognition. he closed the book gently and took a step towards you, his hand reaching out tentatively. "i can't believe it's you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. you stepped closer, and he enveloped you in a warm embrace that felt like coming home after a long, cold journey. you held onto him tightly, feeling the steady beat of his heart against yours, the same rhythm that had once been your lullaby.

when you pulled away, there were tears in your eyes. "how have you been?" you asked, your voice shaking slightly. he sighed, his eyes scanning the lines of your face, the newfound strength in your posture. "i've been surviving," he replied, his voice filled with a sadness that mirrored your own. "the war… it changed us all." you nodded, understanding the unspoken words that hung between you. the choices he had made, the burdens he had borne to keep you safe, were etched into the very fabric of your shared history.

theo reached into his pocket and pulled out a small chain necklace. the swan charm glinted in the soft light, just as it had the night you gave it to him at hogwarts. "i've kept it with me," he said, his voice hoarse. "every day, i thought of you. i wanted to come back to you." you took the necklace, feeling the weight of its significance in your palm.

you both sat down on a small bench by the window, surrounded by the silent witnesses of bound pages. theo spoke of his time in battle, his efforts to dismantle the death eater network from within, and his fear of what might happen if you had been caught in the crossfire. each word was a step back in time, a painful reminder of the love you had to sacrifice for the sake of safety. yet, as he spoke, you realized that the war had changed him. there was a newfound resolve in his eyes, a determination to right the wrongs of his past

you shared your own tale of survival, the quiet moments of hope you had clung to while the world around you crumbled. the friends lost, the battles won, and the painful realization that life goes on, even when hearts are left shattered. you had moved on, but theo remained a constant in your thoughts, a question mark in the narrative of your life that you longed to resolve.

"i waited for you," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "every night, I'd look at the moon and wonder if you were out there, doing what you had to do." theo's eyes searched yours, seeking forgiveness and understanding. "i know it doesn't change anything, but i need you to know that i never stopped loving you." his hand found yours, weaving your fingers together as if trying to reconnect the threads of your shattered hearts.

the air in the bookstore grew thick with unspoken words and the echoes of a love that had been buried but never forgotten. theo's thumb brushed against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. "i've missed you so much," he said, his voice cracking. "every day, every moment, it was like a piece of me was gone."

you leaned into his touch, feeling the warmth spread through your body. "me too," you whispered, your eyes glistening. "i didn't think i could ever love anyone else."

the silence that followed was filled with the quiet thud of your heartbeats, echoing in the small space. theo's gaze dropped to the necklace in your hand. "i had to find you," he murmured. "i couldn't live with the thought of you moving on without knowing the truth."

you looked up at him, hope flickering in your eyes. "what truth?"

theo took a deep breath, his grip on your hand tightening. "the night i left, i was given a choice. a terrible, impossible choice. to become a death eater, or to watch you suffer." his eyes searched yours, seeking absolution. "i thought if i could infiltrate them, protect you from the inside, it would be better than letting you live in fear. i didn't want you to be part of that world."

your heart clenched at his words. the sacrifice he had made, the torment he must have endured, all to keep you safe. you squeezed his hand in return, feeling the weight of his pain. "i understand," you said, your voice trembling. "but why didn't you tell me?"

theo's eyes searched yours, filled with regret. "i was afraid," he admitted. "afraid that if you knew, you'd try to stop me. or worse, you'd think i didn't love you enough to fight for us." he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "but i was wrong. i should have trusted you."

you nodded, the tears spilling over your lashes. "we both made mistakes," you said, your voice thick with emotion. "but we're here now, and that's what matters." the bookstore had grown dimmer, the sun setting outside casting a warm glow on the two of you. the world outside felt far away, and for a moment, it was just you and theo, two lost souls finding each other again.

theo reached into his pocket and pulled out a small parchment, folded neatly. "i wrote you more letters," he said, his voice low. "every week, i wrote to tell you how much i loved you, to explain what i was doing. but i never sent them." he handed the parchment to you, his eyes pleading for you to understand. you took it, feeling the warmth of his touch still lingering on the paper.

as you unfolded the parchment, the ink looked fresh, as if the words had been written just moments ago. you read the first line, your eyes blurring with tears. "my dearest," it began, and with each word, you felt the love that had been trapped between the lines for so long. It was a testament to the depth of his feelings, a chronicle of his pain and longing.

"why didn't you send them?" you asked, your voice choked with emotion. theo looked down at his hands, which were now clenched tightly in his lap. "i was afraid of giving you false hope," he said, his voice barely audible. "and if they had been found, it would have put you in danger. i wanted to protect you."

you took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words. "but you were also protecting me from the truth," you said softly. "and that hurt almost as much as the lie." theo nodded, his eyes filled with remorse. "i know," he said. "but i had to believe that one day, we'd be together again. that's what kept me going."

the bell over the door jingled, interrupting the solemn moment. the bookstore owner, a plump woman with a kind smile, called out in french, reminding you of the time. theo glanced at the door, then back at you. "will you walk with me?" he asked. "i have so much more to tell you."

you nodded, the parchment clutched tightly in your hand. as you stepped out into the cool evening air, the cobblestone streets had transformed into a canvas of shadows and light. the town had come alive with the whispers of the night, the distant sound of laughter, and the faint strums of a guitar. theo led you to a quiet park, the play of shadows from the street lamps dancing across the benches. you sat down, the night air wrapping around you like a soft blanket.

theo began to speak, his voice low and earnest. he recounted his time through the war, the battles he had fought, and the moments he had doubted himself. his words painted a picture of a man torn between his love for you and his duty to the cause he had been forced to serve. each letter was a secret confession, a silent declaration of his enduring love, trapped within the bounds of fear and duty. you listened, your heart aching for the pain he had endured.

as he talked, you felt the pieces of your shattered past slowly fitting back together. the anger and hurt began to dissipate, replaced by a profound understanding of the weight of the choices he had made. you reached out and touched his cheek, feeling the stubble that had grown there. "i'm here now," you said, your voice firm. "and i'm not going anywhere."

as the stars began to peek out from behind the clouds, casting a soft glow over the park, theo reached the end of his tale. the silence that followed was filled with the heavy weight of the past and the delicate promise of a future. you studied his face, the lines of exhaustion etched into his skin, the shadows under his eyes that spoke of countless sleepless nights.

you leaned in and kissed him gently, tasting the salt of his tears. it was a kiss that contained all the words you couldn't say, all the moments you had missed, and all the love that had never truly waned. his arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as if he were afraid you might disappear again. you felt the warmth of his breath against your cheek, the steady beat of his heart echoing your own.

when you pulled away, theo's eyes searched yours, looking for reassurance. "can you forgive me?" he asked, his voice ragged with hope. you nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "we both have a lot to forgive," you said. "but i think we've suffered enough."

theo's shoulders relaxed, and he leaned his forehead against yours. "i promise," he murmured, "to never keep secrets from you again." you felt the sincerity in his words, the depth of his regret. "i know," you whispered back. "and i promise to trust you, no matter what."

as you sat there, the quiet night sounds of the town wrapping around you, you realized that the war had not only stolen your present but had also tried to claim your future. but here you were, together again, and the love that had once burned so brightly between you was rekindling. it was fragile, yes, but it was also fierce, a testament to the strength of the bond you shared.

theo's hand found yours again, and he entwined your fingers, as if by doing so, he could weave back together the threads of time that had been torn apart. "what now?" he asked, his voice filled with hope and trepidation. "we start again," you said, squeezing his hand firmly. "we build a new life, together."

as you both stood, the chill of the evening air seemed to dissipate with the lingering shadows of the past. theo led you through the winding streets, the cobblestones cool underfoot, the gas lamps casting a warm glow that danced in your eyes.

you walked hand in hand, the quiet companionship of the night wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. the conversation flowed easily, as if the two years apart had been nothing but a brief intermission in a lifelong dialogue. you shared your new life in france, the people you had met, and the quiet moments of joy you had found amidst the ruins of the past. theo listened intently, his eyes never leaving yours, as if he were trying to absorb every detail, every memory.

as you approached the small apartment that had become your sanctuary, you felt a twinge of nervousness. the walls held the whispers of your solitude, the echoes of your tears, and now, they would bear witness to the rekindling of a love that had been buried but never truly forgotten. theo seemed to sense your apprehension and squeezed your hand gently. "i'm here," he murmured, the words a gentle reminder that you were no longer alone.

you unlocked the door, the familiar creak a comforting sound in the stillness of the night. the warm glow of the fireplace spilled into the room, casting a warm, flickering light on the worn armchair where you had spent countless evenings lost in thought. theo followed you inside, his eyes taking in the cozy space that held the essence of your soul. he set the letters down on the small wooden table, a silent promise that he would share all of himself with you, just as you had shared your heart.

the fire crackled and danced in the grate, casting shadows across the floor. you both sat down on the sofa, the fabric worn smooth from the countless times you had curled up there with a book. the silence was filled with the soft whispers of the flame and the beating of your hearts, a rhythm that had once been lost but now found again.

[mustainegf]

Soooo I had an idea about a kirk late 80s smut ...

Where he and the reader go to the cinema and watch a lame horror movie and kirk gets bored so he fingers the reader and when the movie finishes they fuck in the backseat of his car .

How are you guys so good at coming up with this stuff..? This is literally amazing, I hope I did it justice!

The movie flickered our bored faces. Kirk was so excited to see this new movie. It turned out to be another horror wanna-be. Briefly-it sucked.

I could tell Kirk was bummed, he wouldn't stop sighing. He did that pretty often whenever his mood soured.

Suddenly, there was a warmth on my thigh. I glanced down to see Kirk's hand gently squeezing, his thumb rubbing against the fabric of my pants.

The touch made me shiver with heat. I knew he wanted to get handsy. He always did. But even he knew he was pushing it.

I decided to let him do whatever, I knew he would keep it PG. At least I hoped.

I did my best to focus on the movie, but his hand was inching further up, snaking around to my inner thigh.

I gazed over at Kirk, he looked completely calm, watching the movie with a smirk on his pretty lips.

"Kirk." I whispered, afraid we may get caught.

Kirk complied, removing his hand. But just as I turned my gaze back to the screen, his slender hand slipped into my leggings.

"Jesus," I murmured, trying to keep my voice low.

My eyes darted around looking for anyone who may notice what we were doing. We weren't alone in the theater, although most of the seats were empty.

"Stay quiet for me, yeah?" Kirk instructed under his breath. He ghosted his fingers over my panties, applying the softest bit of pressure he could.

He didn't even have to tell me to keep my eyes on the movie. I knew the drill. "Spread your legs." His voice was low and thick. My core tensed at his words. I did what he said, slightly nudging my thighs apart.

He pulled my panties aside, the cool air hitting my teased heat.

His fingertip slid across my clit, causing me to gasp. "Shhhh," he whispered, his finger tracing my center again. He pushed two fingers inside me, eliciting a whimper from me.

He moved them in and out slowly, rubbing his thumb against my swollen bundle of nerves. A few minutes passed like this, him fucking me with his fingers while the movie played.

"K-kirk..." I breathed, quickly checking to see if anybody could see what he was doing.

He was far too good with his fingers, I had to fight not to moan out loud. His fingers were perfect, continuously curling at the exact right moment.

"Good job..." he watched my face tense and try to stay calm and keep my composure.

I could hardly take it, he knew exactly how to hit every spot.

"Kirk, stop," I turned to him, my breath labored.

Kirk pulled his fingers out of me, resting his hand as he looked at me. "What's wrong baby?" He asked softly.

"Can we go to the car?" I asked hastily.

He nodded, quickly pulling his hand from under my leggings, gathering up all of his things before standing up. Just as I stood up, kirk leaned to whisper in my ear. "I'm gonna ruin you," he snickered darkly, sucking off his fingers that were once inside me.

Kirk shut the door to the backseat of his car, my legs wrapping around him with need.

Kirk started kissing me, starting on my neck then moving to my mouth. His tongue entered my mouth, the taste of his saliva mixed with mine. Our tongues tangled together, exploring each other.

I reached between us, unbuttoning his pants and shoving them down his legs. I took his hard cock in my hand, stroking it up and down. I couldn't help but look at him. "Mh-" he groaned loudly at the sudden feeling, his head falling back.

He pulled my top up and off, kissing me hungrily as he trailed his way down my body, licking and kissing every inch of skin he could.

Kirk slid my panties to the side, replacing my hand on his cock with his own. I whined, wrapping my arms around his neck and melting into him.

"Lie back, Angel," he whispered huskily. My chest pressed to his as I sat on him, my head falling in the crook of his neck.

"Please put it in kirk," I whispered, my vision blurred by his curly hair.

"Hold still, pretty," he groaned, gripping my hip and pushing me down onto his erection. "Fuck!" I cried, stretching to accommodate his size.

He thrust forward, filling me completely. His lips brushed against my neck, his breathing heavy. Kirk held me there for a second, letting me adjust.

"You're so fucking tight for me," he groaned. He smiled down at me, flashing his adorable crooked teeth. He was such a cutie.

Sometimes it was hard to believe how he could get during sex based on his outside appearance.

Kirk began to wriggle his hips, filling me over and over.

“Mmh.. oh Kirk.." I whined, softly tugging his hair.

I imagined when he fingered me in the theater, how easily we could ve been caught, how good it felt to take that risk.

The car was bouncing slightly as Kirk bucked his hips upward, the windows beginning to fog.

"That's it," he murmured. I had to admit, this was far better than the shitty vampire movie we had once been watching.

"Talk to me, baby. I wanna hear that pretty voice." Kirk heaved.

I turned my head to the side, catching sight of our reflection in the window. Kirk looked so damn good. So handsome.

"Don't make me say it again," Kirk continued, his voice desperate and lustful.

"It's so-oh, so good!" I threw my head back with a groan. "I'm yours.." I huffed softly.

His thrusts quickened, I wouldn't be surprised if he'd bruised my insides. Kirk's mouth found its way to my breasts, sucking blooming purple marks.

He didn't stop, marking my chest with nips and love marks, kissing each hickey.

Whimpers spilled from his pinkish lips, I knew he was close.

It wasn't much longer until I came, both of us about to lose control. "Fuck, come on... come on..." he grunted, nearly blacking out with need.

"Yes! Yes!" he yelled as he released himself inside of me. His cum filled me, shooting deep inside my core. I clenched around him, squeezing him tighter. "So perfect," he sighed as he slowly withdrew from me.

I tried not to let my body give in, knowing I needed to pull myself together. Kirk looked down at me, his eyes passionate. He ran his knuckles along my jaw, caressing my cheeks gently. "God, you are so perfect..."

he said tenderly. I relaxed in his arms, cuddling to his warm chest. A small part of me wanted to just stay there forever, never going home.

Kirk chuckled softly, pushing a few stray curls out of his face. "Look what you've done to me," I giggled, peering down at my reddened and bruised chest and breasts.

Kirk laughed, running his fingers over his love bites. "They suit you," he raised his brows, flashing that dorky smile that I loved so much.

"And they'll be gone in a few days," he continued.

"Then I'll give you more," he giggled, giving me a quick peck.

[eyesthatroll]

lilac, quinn hughes

fem!reader / established relationship / 0.9k words

"How do I look?" you ask, descending the last few steps of the stairwell. The sound of your heels clicking softly on the wooden steps draws Quinn's attention away from his phone. He glances up and his eyes widen, his phone forgotten as it slips from his grasp and lands with a soft thud on the carpet. For a moment, he just stands there, mouth agape, struggling to find words, his expression a mix of surprise and admiration.

"Wow.. you-you look phenomenal." His voice is barely more than a whisper, filled with genuine admiration. You can't help but roll your eyes, a playful smile tugging at your lips as you shake your head slightly. Phenomenal? Maybe not, but you did feel a little more beautiful today. You had taken extra care with your makeup, experimenting with shades of lavender and soft pink to complement your lilac, flowery sundress. The delicate fabric swayed gently with each movement, catching the light in a way that made the floral patterns seem almost alive. It wasn't anything fancy, but it was a departure from your usual style, and it made you feel special.

"Stop it." Heat blooms across your cheeks, spreading like wildfire as Quinn closes the distance between you in a few swift strides. His hands trace a delicate path along the fabric of your dress, his touch barely grazing the intricate patterns before settling gently at your waist.

"You are so insanely gorgeous," he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear. "How'd I land such a pretty girl?" His words are innocent, honest, but the intensity behind them makes your heart flutter. The sincerity in his eyes, the way his fingers curl around your waist, anchoring you to the moment, all contribute to the rush of genuine happiness that floods through you.

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, attempting to stifle an even bigger smile. "You look gorgeous too, Quinn,"

He huffs playfully, rolling his eyes in a teasing mimicry of your earlier gesture. "Oh yeah?" he asks, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

You reach up, your fingers brushing against the smooth material of his mint green satin dress shirt. The fabric feels cool and luxurious under your touch as you adjust his collar, smoothing out a barely visible wrinkle. The gentle scent of his cologne, a subtle blend of cedarwood and citrus, fills the small space between you, and you inhale a deep breath of it before speaking. "Mhm," you nod, your eyes locking with his again. "So handsome."

He looked so pretty in mint green. You always loved seeing him in pastel colors; they brought out the warmth in his complexion and offered a refreshing change from the same old black suit he often wore. His shirt shimmered softly under the light, emphasizing the depth of his hazel eyes and the relaxed charm he exuded when dressed up.

His hair had grown longer since the end of the playoffs. The once neatly trimmed style was now replaced by a cascade of messy curls that framed his face, softening his features and adding back a boyish charm, ending just at the nape of his neck. Your fingers reach up instinctively, tangling into the deep brown tresses. You gave a gentle tug, feeling the silky strands slip between your fingers, and he draws closer with a content sigh.

"Will it mess up your makeup if I kiss you?" He asks, despite already knowing the answer, with a longing within his voice, as if seeing each other for the first time in years.

You let out a laugh. "Yes."

He lets out a dramatic groan, head falling into your shoulder, more akin to a boy denied his favorite treat than a grown man. "Just one?" he pouts.

You roll your eyes, knowing all too well that with him, it was never 'just one.' 'Just one' always turned into 'just five minutes,' which inevitably became 'fuck, I'm late.' Today, you couldn't afford to be late. Both of you had semi-important roles in the wedding, you as a bridesmaid and him as a groomsman. "On the cheek," you compromise.

He shoots you a pointed look, and you raise your brows, a silent challenge passing between you before he finally relents with a sigh. "Fine." He agrees begrudgingly, mirth in his tone.

Smiling at him, you tilt your head and lean up on your tiptoes, closing the distance between the two of you. You press a delicate kiss onto his cheek, the shade leaving a pale imprint behind. As you pull away, a teasing glint sparkles in your eyes. "Oops, you got a little somethin' there," you comment with a playful smirk, your gaze lingering on the faint lipstick stain now adorning his cheek.

"Leave it," he responds, his voice light, but with a hint of possessiveness. "Let everyone know I belong to you."

A sudden chill rushes through your body, sending a shiver down your spine. Though you recognize the playful tone in his words, a surge of pride swells within you at the notion of everyone at the wedding knowing he's yours, marked by a simple yet tangible reminder.

"Let's go, before I accidentally rip your pants off," you exhale.

He barks out laughter, a warm melody that fills the air around you, easing the tension that had briefly settled between you. He might be laughing, but you weren't joking.

[phantoms-world-and-more]

Damian and Danny are brothers, but not twins (Danny is a year older). While Talia isn't a great mother she does love her children in her own way. So when Ra chose Damian to be the heir he had no need for Danny. Ra told Damian to kill him in a final test to become the heir. Damian hated his older brother and was always in competition with him so he didn't hesitate. Talia made it look like Damian killed him (even Damian thinks he did), but she whisked him away. She gave/hid him with the Fentons, she and Maddie had trained together.

-Danny knows Bruce Wayne/Batman is his father but sees no point of contacting him especially after Damian shows up on the scene (also him being a billionaire, they are all fruitloops with too much money and power). He never wants to be in the same room with Damian ever again. Besides he loves is new parents Jack and Maddie.

-Talia has become more of a cool aunt figure/then mother figure who sometimes swings through town leaving interesting gifts

-Jack and Maddie are good parents, and would do anything for their children. Especially anything to keep them safe. They even do a 180 after Danny reveals to be Phantom and drive the GIW out of town.

-It somehow gets out to the BatFam that Damian was not the only child of Talia and Bruce. They trace Danny to Amity Park and try to force a reconciliation. It does not go well.

-Jason knew about Danny, he helped Talia discreetly whisk Danny away to the Fentons. He gets why and supports Danny's position of not wanting to be near Damian.

-Danny refuses to see Damian and claims Jazz and Ellie are his only siblings. Even if Damian has changed, it's within his rights not wanting to be around someone who hurt him badly. While he may at some point forgive Damian for what he did, that does not mean he has to forget and from a relationship with him.

-Danny's family supports his decision. Jazz especially when one of the BatFam makes a remark that he is too young to make such a final decision. She goes off on all them and psychoanalysis them.

Hahaha I love this!

Damian can go two ways

A) he feels guilty and is desperately trying to make things better, getting increasingly desperate and trying anything and everything to get his forgiveness

B) he relapses in his progress and still hates Danny, him being a reminder of when he was under Ras's control, and fearing that Danny will attempt to replace him as the blood son, reminder that Danny dosen't want or care about being blood son falls on deaf ears

The batfam all have different reactions from completely siding with Danny about not wanting to have a relationship with them (Jason) to wanting a relationship but accepting that he might not want a relationship (dick) to complete denial about Danny not caring about them (Bruce)

[nixiefics]

Possess - Part 2

Pairing: Robb Stark X Reader

Warnings: Smut, posessive Robb, p in v sex, oral (female receiving), rough sex, dominant Robb,

You awaken slowly, the warmth of the fur blankets cocooning you in their luxurious softness. The richness of the various pelts - wolf, bear, and fox - creates a patchwork of textures and hues, a testament to the King's power and the harsh beauty of the North. You shift slightly, feeling the gentle rise and fall of the man beside you. His presence, a source of both comfort and desire, has become a familiar anchor in your life.

Blinking the sleep from your eyes, you take in the soft glow of dawn filtering through the canvas of the tent. The air is cool, but the thick furs ward off the chill, keeping you nestled in warmth. You turn your head to look at him. Even in sleep, his features are strong, etched with a fierceness that speaks of battles won and enemies vanquished. Yet, there is a softness there, a vulnerability that only you are privileged to witness.

The King in the North stirs, his arm instinctively wrapping around you, pulling you closer. His eyes flutter open, and for a moment, the stern ruler is replaced by the man who has shared your bed and heart for over two months. His smile is rare, but you’ve grown accustomed to the way his eyes soften when they meet yours.

“Good morning, my healer,” he murmurs, his voice rough with sleep but tender.

“Good morning, my King” you reply, your fingers tracing the lines of his face.

You sit up slowly, careful not to disturb the peace that lingers in the tent. The responsibilities of the day loom ahead, but for now, you allow yourself a moment of tranquillity. Robb's eyes follow you as you move, a silent appreciation in his gaze. The cool air brushes against your skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of the furs.

“I wish you didn’t have to go,” he says, his voice low. It’s a sentiment he’s expressed many times, but always with an understanding of your duty.

"You made a promise," you kiss his lips slowly. "I could heal if Grey Wind was with me - and he is always with me."

Robb's expression softens further, a mixture of admiration and reluctance in his eyes. He reaches out, his hand warm against your cool skin. “I know,” he says quietly, “and I respect that. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

You smile, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. “And I appreciate it,” you reply. “But duty calls.”

With a sigh, Robb releases you, and you rise from the bed, the furs slipping away to reveal the cool air of the tent. You wrap yourself in your robe, its familiar weight and texture grounding you as you move towards the small basin of water to wash. The briskness of the water against your face is invigorating, helping to chase away the last remnants of sleep.

You can feel Robb’s gaze on you as you prepare for the day, a silent presence that brings both comfort and a twinge of sadness. The bond you share is deep, forged in the crucible of war and the shared solace of your nights together.

As you finish your morning routine, you turn back to Robb, who is now sitting up, the fur blankets pooled around his waist. His eyes are serious, but there’s a warmth there that reassures you. “Be safe today,” he says, a command and a plea intertwined in his words.

“I always am,” you reply, your voice steady. You cross the tent to where he sits, placing a hand on his cheek. “And you, my King, must do the same.”

He nods, capturing your hand in his and pressing a kiss to your palm. “I will,” he promises. “For you.”

With a final, lingering look, you step out of the tent and into the camp. The crisp morning air greets you, carrying the sounds of activity and the faint tang of smoke from the nearby fires. The camp is already bustling, soldiers preparing for the day, the hum of conversation and the clang of metal creating a familiar symphony.

You make your way to the healer’s tent, a sense of purpose settling over you. The wounded need you, and in your role, you find a different kind of fulfilment. The demands are constant, the wounds severe, but your skill and compassion are unwavering. You tend to each soldier with care, knowing that every life you save is a victory in its own right.

As the day progresses, your thoughts occasionally drift back to Robb. His strength, his vulnerability, the way he looks at you as if you are his anchor in this turbulent world. You find solace in those memories, drawing strength from them as you work.

By the time the sun begins to set, you are exhausted but content. You’ve done your duty, fulfilled your promise. As you make your way back to the tent you share with Robb, a sense of anticipation builds within you. The days are long, but the nights—those precious hours in his arms—make it all worthwhile.

Entering the tent, you find it empty. Robb has not yet returned from his duties. The space feels larger, quieter without him, but you know he will be back soon. Deciding to prepare for his return, you call for a bath to be brought. The attendants are quick, and soon a large wooden tub is set up in the corner of the tent.

You instruct them to fill it with hot water and add healing oils - lavender for relaxation, eucalyptus for its invigorating scent, and a touch of chamomile to soothe. The steam rises, carrying the fragrant mix of oils, creating a calming atmosphere that envelops the tent. You test the water with your hand, ensuring it’s the perfect temperature.

As you wait for Robb, you take a moment to change out of your healer’s robes, slipping into a simple but elegant nightgown. The soft fabric is a welcome change from the utilitarian garments you’ve worn throughout the day. You let your hair down, running a comb through it to ease the tangles, the simple act grounding you after a long day.

The bath is ready, the water shimmering invitingly. You light a few candles, their warm glow casting gentle shadows on the tent walls. The scent of the oils mingles with the earthy aroma of the furs, creating a cocoon of warmth and tranquillity.

Finally, you hear the faint sounds of footsteps outside the tent. Robb enters, looking weary but pleased to see you. His eyes light up at the sight of the prepared bath, and a grateful smile spreads across his face. “You always know exactly what I need,” he says, his voice filled with affection.

“I thought you might appreciate a bit of relaxation after today,” you reply, stepping towards him. You reach up, your hands moving to unfasten the clasps of his cloak and armour. He stands still, allowing you to help him out of the heavy layers, his eyes never leaving yours.

As Robb steps into the bath, you can’t help but admire his form. His body is a testament to the life he leads - a life of battle and leadership. Broad shoulders taper down to a powerful, muscular chest. Scars, mementos of past battles, mark his skin, each one telling a story of bravery and survival. His arms are strong, corded with muscle from wielding a sword and shield, yet there’s a gentleness in his touch that belies his warrior exterior.

His abdomen is defined, the result of countless hours of training and fighting. The taut muscles ripple as he moves, a display of raw strength and vitality. His legs are equally powerful, supporting his commanding presence both on and off the battlefield.

Your thoughts become heated as you take in every detail - the way the water clings to his skin, the way the healing oils create a sheen that catches the light. His hair, damp with sweat and now water, falls in dark waves around his face, framing his striking features. His eyes, intense yet tender, lock onto yours as you tend to him, and you see in them a depth of feeling that transcends words.

You love the sight of his naked body, the way it exudes strength and masculinity. Memories of how that body pleases you flood your mind - the way his muscles flex as he holds you close, the heat of his skin against yours, the undeniable passion that ignites between you whenever he touches you. A flush rises to your cheeks as you recall the nights spent wrapped in his arms, his body a source of both pleasure and comfort.

Robb’s body is a warrior’s body, sculpted by conflict and honed by duty. Yet, in this moment, as he relaxes into the warmth of the bath you’ve prepared, he is simply a man - your man - seeking solace and comfort in your presence. And as you care for him, washing away the weariness of the day, you are reminded of the bond you share, a bond that goes beyond the physical, rooted in love and mutual respect. The anticipation of feeling his embrace again, of losing yourself in the passion you share, sends a shiver of desire through you.

His voice breaks the silence, pulling you from your reverie. “Thank you,” he says quietly, reaching for your hand. “For everything.”

“Always,” you reply, your voice soft and filled with affection. "I am yours, Robb."

His eyes darken and you sense the shift in him immediately. Robb loves hearing you say the words - it always awakened a primal part of him.

"That's right, my darling." He grins, wide enough to show the sharp incisors he loves to nibble at you with, and leans forward to cup your chin. "All mine."

Robb stands, pulling you up with him effortlessly. The water cascades off his body, and he steps out of the tub, each movement powerful and purposeful. He is a glorious sight - dripping wet, muscles glistening in the candlelight, and every inch of him exuding a raw, feral intensity that makes your pulse race.

Robb’s other hand grips your waist, pulling you closer, and you can feel the strength of his need in the way his fingers dig into your skin. Your hands find his shoulders, clutching at his damp skin as you try to anchor yourself. The kiss is heated, spine-tingling, and utterly consuming. His lips move against yours with a fervour that leaves you panting, your mind a whirlwind of sensation.

He deepens the kiss, his tongue parting your lips, exploring with a hunger that sends waves of heat through your body. The taste of him is intoxicating, a blend of warmth and passion that you can’t get enough of. You respond eagerly, matching his intensity, the kiss turning sloppy and heated as the world outside the tent fades away.

His hand moves from your waist to the small of your back, pressing you against him, the heat of his body searing through the thin fabric of your nightgown. You can feel the hard planes of his chest, the steady thrum of his heartbeat matching your own frantic pace. Every nerve ending is alight with sensation, your body arching into his touch as his kiss leaves you breathless and wanting more.

Robb breaks the kiss for a moment, his breath ragged and his eyes dark with desire. “I need you,” he murmurs against your lips, the desperation in his voice echoing your own feelings.

“Then take me,” you whisper back, your voice trembling with anticipation and need.

With a growl of approval, he captures your lips again, the kiss even more urgent, more demanding than before. His dominance is clear in every touch, every movement, as he claims you with a passion that leaves you reeling.

Your eyes trail down his form, taking in the way the water clings to his skin, accentuating every ridge and contour of his chiselled physique. His hair, wet and tousled, frames his face, giving him an almost wild look. The sight of him like this - dominant, commanding, and so achingly beautiful - sends a thrill of desire through you.

He pulls you close, the heat of his body contrasting sharply with the cool air of the tent. The sensation of his damp skin against yours is electrifying, and you can’t help but shiver. His lips find yours again, the kiss deep and consuming, his hands roaming over your back, pulling you even closer.

Robb’s need is palpable, his desperation mirrored in the way he devours your mouth, each kiss more fervent than the last. You can feel the hard planes of his body pressed against you, the strength in his grip as he holds you as if he might never let go.

Your hands explore his body, tracing the lines of his muscles, feeling the powerful beat of his heart beneath your palm. His skin is hot, the water droplets cooling quickly, and you marvel at the sheer physicality of him - so strong, so alive.

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” you breathe against his lips, your voice a mix of awe and desire.

He responds with a low growl, his eyes burning with intensity as he looks at you. “You drive me wild,” he murmurs, his voice rough with need.

Robb’s hands move to your hips, lifting you effortlessly. You wrap your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck, and he carries you towards the bed of furs. Every step he takes, every movement, is filled with a primal urgency that sets your skin aflame.

As he lowers you onto the furs, his body covering yours, you feel a rush of anticipation. His kisses trail down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, and you arch into his touch, wanting, needing more. The world outside the tent is forgotten, and in this moment, there is only the two of you, lost in a sea of desire and passion that threatens to consume you both.

"Such a needy little thing, aren't you?" Robb's mouth trails over your shoulder, pushing the nightgown away with his nose. "So fucking needy for me."

"Yes," you pant, head lolling to the side as his tongue traces an invisible line down your shoulder and swirling around your exposed nipple. "Gods, yes. All for you."

It's like a switch flips and Robb rights himself slightly, one hand taking both of yours. "Keep them there."

His voice sends a bolt of pleasure to your core, and you swallow thickly, watching his hands dip to your thighs and push the fabric of your nightshift up to your hips.

You jump slightly as Robb's hands cup your thighs roughly, parting them and bringing his lips to the sensitive skin on the inside, trailing them up slowly, teasingly, to place an open-mouthed kiss to your soaked core.

"My pretty little Queen has the most beautiful cunt in the world - and it's mine." he growls against you as his tongue swipes through your slick folds and he groans low at the taste which sends a deep thrum of want through your core. It's all too much and yet so little at the same time.

"Fuck, darling…"

You can feel your thighs shaking against his grip as he keeps them parted for him. It halts every thought in your mind, back arching off the bed as he delves deeper, his tongue parting your folds to fuck you with the wet muscle repeatedly. It feels like he's trying to discover places inside you that you never knew existed. The angle has your lips parted with hurried breaths, head thrown back against the bed, struggling to keep still with the way his nose moves side to side against your aching clit.

"Robb…" you whine loudly, forcing yourself to grab the furs below you to keep your hands where he told you to. It feels like as soon as the pressure begins to build in your belly, he comes away, his lips glistening with your slick, causing your face to heat up in embarrassment. His eyes gleam with mischief.

"What's wrong, darling, hm?" he's massaging the flesh of your thighs, watching your core clench around nothing. "Am I not a giving King? Would you like more, my sweet pet?"

Before you can even open your mouth to respond, he plunges two fingers knuckle-deep inside you, instantly curled up trying to find that sweet spot inside. Your thighs shut around his hand, trapping him there as a slew of desperate moans fill the silence in the tent, as well as the wet smack of his hand as he fucks you with his fingers.

"Oh Robb!" you're sure that the entire camp can hear you now but you do not care. "Robb, please, fuck!"

He grins and another finger joins the first two, pounding in and out of you with such lewd sounds, it makes the prudish part of your soul cringe. No doubt, you have truly given up the faith now.

He finds that toe-curling spot with infuriating accuracy, aided by the thickness and length of his fingers, stretching your pussy as he watches them disappear, covered in your arousal.

Your back arches impossibly, thighs squeezed tight. And he smirks in victory. "There it is…"

All logic, reality, everything that makes up the known world disappears. All you're able to focus on is Robb. The pleasure he is giving you. His words. It's all just too much.

The coil in your belly threatens to snap at any moment, the pads of his fingers connecting with your pleasure spot mercilessly. So much you can feel your slick soak his hand and the insides of your thighs.

And just like that.

It's gone.

You scream in frustration and whip your head to look at him, as he kneels between your legs, outright moaning as he swipes his digits through his lips into his mouth. Tasting you.

Your clit throbs at the action, as well as the fact he's enjoying it so much. Feeling your face flushed and heat bathing your skin.

"You look so fucking perfect, darling." he says, hand coming to stroke himself to full hardness. The motion has you captivated, and inadvertently makes your thighs press together.

Robb is large and curved slightly to the left, and as he strokes himself, his thumb swiping whatever precum comes out his weeping pink tip all over his cockhead, sighing softly at the relief of it. It's the thickness that you enjoy most, filling you so well that you can't remember your own name.

"Fuck me." You challenge, "Fuck me like I'll never be anyone else's again."

He smirks again, laughing lowly. "You won’t, pet. Not while I have strength in my bones - I would smite anyone who even had a thought of taking you from me."

He leans down, his tongue darting out to tease the skin around your nipple, tongue swirling against it. Robb pays special attention, lapping at it like a man starved, humming and pleased at the reaction he gets when he grazes his teeth over it. He pulls off with a gentle pop, kissing the valley of your breasts, his cock hanging heavily against your thigh. So close, and yet it still feels so far away.

"Say you're mine." he says, tapping his cockhead against your clit a few times sending sparks of pleasure up your spine. "I'd like the whole of Westeros to know who you belong to. Understood?"

You nod, dizzy from just how much he's teasing you.

"Yes, my King." you pant, cupping your own breast in desperation. "I am yours. Yours, always yours!"

He laughs through his nose and your mouth drops open when he pushes into you, splitting you open on his thick cock, slowly working his way inside before he bottoms out, stilling for a moment for you to adjust but also for him to catch his breath. He shudders against your neck, his stomach flexing and fists tightened either side of your head.

"Fuck, pet, you're so tight… can… feel you squeezing me…" he moans softly against your ear, pushing himself as far inside you as he can possibly go. It has your eyes fluttering shut as his length tucks against that sweet spot, filling you so perfectly, the walls of your pussy stretching deliciously to take him.

"Robb," you mewl as he shallowly fucks himself into you a few times, craving friction, craving what glimpse you saw of him earlier, "Robb… please… more, I need more."

Resting on his forearms, one hand ventures to your thigh to spread you further apart as he pulls almost all the way out.

"Seeing as you asked so nicely."

All air seems to be stolen out of your lungs and replaced with warming bliss as Robb slams back into you, his hips immediately pressing with a loud smack against you as he thrusts ceaselessly, holding both of your thighs in his palms.

With every harsh push inside, a soft, moan-like breath slips from your lips. Gods, you love it. Every time with Robb feels like the first time and the last time and it's so fucking perfect. Robb's thumb begins to deftly gather your arousal and circle around your clit, setting every nerve alight.

"Louder," He punctuates his demand with a particularly harsh thrust, your arousal sounding off the tent walls in an echo. "I want all my men to know to keep away from my little pet."

Whether you want to or not, your lips part more to let your sounds of pleasure fill the room, the ceaseless sounds of your fucking alongside it. Your hands fist the bedsheets and Robb growls appreciatively watching your breasts and body move with every motion.

He rewards you by increasing the speed of his motions, practically fucking you into the furs. His smug, cocksure smirk drops, and his jaw slackens, his eyes hooded to look down at you with reverence.

"Fuck- darling, I can feel you, you're going to cum for me aren't you-" he moans, his hips never letting up their pace, "fuck-feels… so good."

"Robb-" you moan softly, turning your head, closing your eyes, feeling all exposed to him when he looks at you like that. The pressure in your gut is absolutely set to explode, and you feel that coil tighten impossibly.

Your throat tightens as Robb leans down, his hips hitting the flesh of your thighs as he continues to piston his cock inside you, the chain around his neck dangling above you.

You feel him grab your face roughly, turning you to face him, your eyes slightly hooded with pleasure but looking right at him. It's so intimate, it makes your skin feel like it's on fire. His expression is serious. "Look at me when I make you cum."

Your hand clamps around his wrist, guiding him to your neck, and his jaw slackens again when he realises what you want. His fingers wrap around your neck, palm against your windpipe, and he just holds you there, feeling your pulse fluttering against his touch.

All you're able to utter before falling off the edge of your pleasure is a small, "Fuck-"

Blinding white pleasure courses through your veins, your heart hammering in your chest, feeling every single thing Robb is doing but ten times more sensitive. Being put on edge twice before certainly didn't help. Every thrust inside, brushing against your sweet spot, the way his thumb continues to press circles against your bud, has your orgasm extended in a long drawn-out shattered moan.

Robb buries his head into your neck, his arms enveloped around you, letting your bud finally have a reprieve. Your thighs begin to shake as Robb fucks you through it, overstimulation rocking through your entire body with the incessant push of his length against your sweet spot.

"It's alright, darling, I've got you. I'm here." he whispers, his own tone strained. You can't help but sigh fondly at his words.

Robb feels you tighten impossibly around him one last time before he stills, hot ropes of his cum painting your walls and leaving an unmistakable warmth at the deepest parts of your core. He says nothing, but moans helplessly against your neck and you feel his whole body shudder through your hold on his shoulders.

He fucks you shallowly, aching for the last moments of friction just as your orgasm subsides, replaced with a manageable dull thrum, practically able to feel your own heartbeat, and his with his presence inside you. The drag of his cock through your sensitive walls has breathless pants spilling from your mouth.

The silence stretches as Robb stills, his cock softening within you.

You don't have time to consider what he's thinking, as he presses a chaste kiss to your jaw. "All mine."

You whimper and tuck your face into the scruff in his neck. "Yes, my King, all yours."