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#those scenes were so good but so hard to watch. the belt hits close to home especially
mayomkun · 4 months
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Rewatching dead boy detectives and I love the music box that starts playing when Charles started hitting the night nurse. Like, the haunting melody went so well with the shock of what we learned about Charles' past and his sudden outburst (spiralling out of control, the feeling of the world beating down on you over and over and even when you try your best, be your best self, it isn't enough and there isn't anything you can do). And then morphed to something more upbeat/thrilling when she fell into the sea, followed by complete silence with Charles' breakdown. Oughhhhhhhhh
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sinsandsweetness · 1 year
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Obsession (sex and zombies- chapter 9)
pairing- {Rick x fem!reader}
summary- You can’t even look at him without blushing. And he knows it too.
warnings- 18+ content MDNI! filthy library smut:)
notes- one of my favourite scenes in this work tbh...
You walked your way down to the library, with the intent to find something you hadn’t read yet. Which was hard since you’d read basically the entire room. But you were on a mission to find something new. While flipping through a book, you heard the door open and close behind you. 
It was Rick. 
You quickly glanced over your shoulder and saw him, button up shirt with rolled up sleeves. Only furthering the attention you pay to his arms. 
You didn’t say anything. Instead went back to your book, reading the synopsis on the back. 
“I’ve been looking for you,” you heard his deep voice behind you. 
“Oh?” You knew that. Glenn had told you.
“You’re avoiding me.” 
“I’m not.”
“Really? Then what is it? ”
When you turned around, he was much closer than a moment ago, leaning against the bookcase beside you. 
“I just…” your gaze started at his arms, then traveled to his waist, his belt, his hands. Oh god, his hands. 
“Just…?” he was waiting for an answer.
“You seemed busy. I didn’t want to…impose,” 
“If you know I’m looking for you then it’s not really imposing is it?” He took the book from your hands, that you’d been fidgeting with, and placed it back on the shelf. 
He licked his lips. Looking you up and down, and settling his gaze on your face. 
“I like this dress,” he changed the topic, pointer finger brushing the lace hem of your sundress. Inspecting the little flowers covering its delicate fabric. 
“Gotta find you some sunscreen hey?” His hand made its way up to your shoulder, your tan now a little red. All that help gardening in the summer sun. 
His touch was doing things that you used to only dream of. You craved the nights that he would sneak into your cell and kiss you all over. But the busier he got with work around the prison and little baby Judith, the less time he had for you and your personal needs.
You were understanding of course. But you still wish he'd try a little harder to get you alone like he used to, pulling you away after the sun set, hushing your giggles and moans with the palm of his hand.  
“Or maybe just less gardening shifts. You could let me take the watchtower more often.” You suggested. They were always shaded. Plus, you were a good shot. 
“No, I like having you in the field with me.”
“With you? Or just not with him?”
He smirked and raised his eyebrows. You could see it click in his head. Why you’d been avoiding him. 
After the whole watchtower situation, you’d felt a little… used, for lack of a better word. Like you were some tool to boost his ego. To prove to Daryl, and maybe even himself, how loyal you were. How well you listened. How absolutely wrapped around his finger you really were. 
And it wasn't like you didn't enjoy it. The exact opposite, actually. You couldn't even look at the two men without blushing, especially not when the others were around. You wanted a round two. Badly. It was constantly consuming your mind and memory. So you figured you could use Rick's ever-growing, busy body nature, to your advantage. As a feeble attempt to tame your very sinful desires.
The goosebumps on your arms snapped you back to Rick's attention. His hand brushing down your arm, lower now, fingers tangling in between yours. 
His voice got really low. A whisper even though you were alone. 
“Definitely not with him,” A playful grin spread across his face.
He was cornering you now. Into the book shelf. Your back hit the wood shelves. 
“But mostly, I just like watching you in those adorable overalls I found you,”
You had made a point of wearing them a lot since he gave them to you. His hands moved to your waist, giving you a slight squeeze. Your breath hitched slightly. Earning another grin from the man in front of you. 
“It's hard not to watch you all day. Looking like this. I know that he can’t help but stare. Cause I can’t either.” He admits. 
“Maybe you should be on watchtower then,” you tell him. “That way you could really watch me all day,” your hands were making their way to his belt, tracing the buckle with your nails, then pulling slightly at the dark leather. 
“But then I’d have to put you on watchtower too so I could keep you right next to me.”
His lips were close now, his knee started to nudge your own, settling in against you. 
“That doesn’t sound so bad,” you were almost out of breath. The way his hands were running up and down your sides, threatening to take your dress off. It made your head all foggy. The way it usually did. You could feel your eyes fluttering shut at his touch, daring him to take you, right there in the library of the prison. 
His lips pressed to yours and your hands snaked around his neck, pulling him in even closer. He added more pressure on his thigh between your legs, letting a quiet moan leave your mouth. Almost grinding down on his leg. 
He lifted your dress, and his hands pulled at your thighs, dragging you up onto him. Wedged between him and the wall, you wrapped your legs around him, and his hands went straight to your ass. Lips still moving against yours. He noticed the strap of your dress had fallen, and his attention moved to your exposed neck and shoulder. Attacking you with sweet, wet kisses. The stubble on his face tickled your sensitive skin. 
“I really like this dress,” he repeated against your skin, hands now toying with your panties, under your dress. Ready to strip you of them. 
“Rick…” you whispered, arching into his touch. 
“Mmm, you smell so good,” he kissed your neck again. 
“…Taste so good,” Another kiss. The feeling of his bulge against you was driving you insane. And his teasing remarks didn’t help either. 
“Please… “ another whimper escaped your lips. 
He let out a dry laugh against your skin and moved the two of you over to the table, sitting you down, but still pressed in between your legs. You started at his belt. His eyes closed as he let your foreheads come together. Savoring the feeling of your hands, pushing the fabric down. Just enough to take him in your hands. Pumping a few times. 
A little groan escaped him and you decided to do a little more. For your perfect leader. He deserved to relax. He never failed to make you feel good. So it was time to return the favor. You slipped off the table, down to your knees, and took him in your mouth. As soon as he felt your tongue on his shaft, his hands were in your hair, and a swear under his breath. 
“Fuck,”
You sucked and licked, still pumping with your hand as he guided your head back and forth, creating a rhythm. After a few moments, you looked up at him through your eyelashes and he swore. 
“You look so pretty like this...” he groaned again. 
You kept your pace up, eyes starting to water as he involuntarily bucked his hips further down your throat. He was already close. 
“C’mhere sweet girl,” he tugged gently on your hair, pulling you off of him. You go to stand up and he turns you around, so that he was pressed against your ass, and you were pressed against the table. 
His mouth found your shoulder blade and he ripped your panties off in one fluid motion. Earning a pained squeak from yourself. He chuckled against your skin while stuffing the lacy item in his back pocket. Anyone could walk in. But that was part of the fun. You heard him tear open a condom and roll it on behind you. His kisses scattered your shoulder and neck as he lined himself up, rubbing his tip against your wet entrance. Teasing you. Always fucking teasing. 
“Tell me what you want,” he whispered. 
“Rick…”
“I wanna hear it.” You were throbbing at this point. Hot and bothered. No other way to put it. It had been way too long since you'd had him alone. 
“Come on,” you whined.
“Just say it,” another kiss on your neck as he pushes the tip in only. 
“Please Rick, god,” you arched back into him. Hoping for more. He chuckled and you sighed. 
“Just fuck me. Please I need you so bad it h-“ you started to give in but he shut you up quickly. He pushed himself into you all at once. Making you gasp a little. That earned another laugh into your skin. His body was fully pressed up against yours. Your dress lifted and bunched up above your ass, with his hands pulling at your hips, urging you onto him. 
He gave you a moment to adjust before he started to pound into you, over and over. 
A palm on your back pushed you down slightly, bending you over, hands catching on the table. Rick continued his rough pace, effortlessly earning repetitive moans and praise from you. His thumbs dug into the dimples on your back as he fucked you hard. 
Right when you thought you were close, an arm wrapped around your torso, and pulled you up against his chest. He started pounding into you even harder. You couldn’t even help the whimper that left you. Being held by him, forearm pressed against your breasts, pulling you into his warmth. It made you weak.
“You have no idea,” his breath was shaky in your ear, “what you do to me,”
Everywhere that your body was touching his, was on fire. Not even being able to concentrate on his words as he pounded into you. Your own hand coming up to stop yourself from screaming out loud. The other one clawed at his forearm. 
You came undone and your core began to shake, but he didn’t let up, instead lifting the back of your knee up, propping your leg against the table, deepening his angle even more. Your orgasm never even stopped as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. He continued to fuck you into the table, his hands grabbing roughly at your skin, leaving marks for him to kiss and trace later in bed. 
Finally you felt his hips stutter and in a few slow thrusts, the arm wrapped around you had moved to your face. Grabbing your jaw and forcing you to look back at him as his lips caught yours.
“Fuck.” He gently let your leg back down, now shaky. He tossed the condom in the trash, tucked himself back in his jeans, and started buckling up his belt. You turned around and leaned against the table, facing him. Catching your breath. He came up close and pressed against you once more. His hands went straight to your face and he kissed you again. For a long moment he didn't let you stop. Tongue tracing your lips, hands still holding you close. You grasped at the collar of his shirt. Letting him know how badly you will always need him. 
When you both stopped to catch your breath he didn't leave your space. Instead, he ran his hands down your dress. Smoothing it out. Pulling it down and adjusting it. Then he moved on to your hair, smoothing it down and tucking a strand behind your ears. 
He looked at you and opened his mouth as if he wanted to tell you something. But your attention broke away to look at the doorway.
There were footsteps from down the hall. With an annoyed sigh Rick moved out of your space and grabbed the book off the shelf. Handing it to you just as the door opened. 
“Oh sorry! Um…” Carol looked at the two of you. Rick's shirt untucked. You adjusting the strap that had fallen off your shoulder. And remembering quickly that you weren’t wearing any panties. Not that anyone would be able to tell. Other than that, you were both dressed. Presentable even. 
“I need to have a word with you,” she directed at Rick. 
“What’s up?”
She kept looking at him but didn’t answer. After an awkward moment of silence you spoke up,
“I’m gonna go… find Daryl,” you wave your book at the doorway. “Did you happen to see him?” an attempt at escaping in the least awkward way possible. It was clear you weren’t invited into this conversation. 
She gave you a sweet smile. “He’s in the yard, sitting around the fire,” 
“Thanks,” you smile back, heading for the hallway, looking back only for a moment, you could feel Rick's gaze still on you. 
“What the hell are you doing ?” You could hear Carol ask him when she thought you could no longer hear. But the rest was too quiet and you were now too far to eavesdrop. Not that you would anyway. Still, it left you a little curious on what was such a secret.
-------------------------
Later that night Rick climbed into your bed, snaking an arm around you. You nestled into him quickly. 
“You smell like smoke,” he whispered. 
“You missed a good fire,” you replied. 
For a moment you laid there. His thumb rubbing circles on your skin. 
“What did Carol have to talk to you about?”
“Oh nothing. Just uh… council stuff.”
“Oh.” you wanted to know what he told her. What his reason for you being together in the library was. 
“I didn’t lie to her,” like he could read your mind, he answered. “I didn’t tell her the whole truth but…”
“-she knows,” you finished for him. 
He nodded from behind you. Pulling you in even closer. 
“You’re not a secret,” his voice was so quiet. “Just so you know.”
His hand made its way between your legs, underneath your pj shorts, and you bit your lip so as not to make a sound. 
“You’re so perfect,” his lips were on your neck, right behind your ear. “Everything I'll ever need,” Fingers rubbing your clit over your panties. In all truth, you didn’t care if whatever you two were doing was or wasn’t a secret. That didn't matter to you. All you cared was that he would never stop touching you and whispering those sweet, sweet nothings in your ear.
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captain-mj · 2 years
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Give me part 2 to the mind thing or I'm going to throw rocks through your window, you dumb whore
(Pretty pls??)
I got you! Please don't throw rocks in my window
~~~~
Soap stayed with Ghost for a while, letting him calm down.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah. That's one of my least favorites."
"Did he do stuff like that a lot?"
Rather than answer, Ghost's hands tightened on him. Soap nodded a little.
"You're not useless. Or weak. You never were."
"I sucked as a kid." Ghost mumbled.
Soap shook his head. "No. No kid deserves that." He pulled him up, holding his arm. "You didn't deserve that."
"Thanks, Johnny. Come on. Let's keep looking." Ghost tugged him along. He didn't pull his arm away so Soap didn't let go. They found their way to a new memory.
It was them at the bar, when Ghost wore the ski mask instead of his balaclava. Soap could feel the anxiety rolling off of him, but to his credit, he had stayed there. Everything was so sharp. Everything, down to the last detail in vivid color.
"I was nervous. Didn't realize how scary it would be." Ghost leaned into him.
Soap looked around. "Still no door. Are you sure that's how we leave?"
Ghost nodded. "Yes... It always is. Those things don't change." He sighed. "It usually doesn't take this long. I'm sorry."
Soap hit his shoulder. "You mention its usually in the memory of the accident. Do you want to check there?"
"I... suppose." Simon sighed. "It would be faster." He led Soap around, holding tighter to him. “It’s a rough memory. I didn’t react well. I just wanted to warn you.” 
The door was on the other side of the house, where the front door would be. Soap hadn’t noticed before, but there was Christmas music playing behind it and he could see lights underneath it.
“You can keep your eyes closed.” Soap offered.
“No. I’m okay.” Ghost promised. “I see it a lot.” 
Soap nodded and tugged him gently into the room. It was as he expected. All three of them executed and laid out for Ghost to find. 
He was so young looking. A lot closer to his Ghost than the one he was traveling with, but still. Maybe only Soap’s age. The scars on his face were there. Freshly healing still. 
Ghost had clearly been expecting this. He stared at the scene, eyes flickering over them before his lip twitched. The laughter started and Soap flinched. It sounded so harsh. Cold and distant and choking like it was being ripped out of him. 
He stepped closer to him and then started to look around, searching for something. 
Soap felt his breath catch when he saw the tiny feet under the blanket. 
Ghost started laughing harder, hands going to the gun on his belt. Even though he knew Ghost lived, knew because how else could be here, he still panicked watching him put that gun to his mouth. Watching him take the safety off. He felt Simon grip onto him, hiding his face in his shoulder. 
Ghost dropped the gun and threw up in a trash can, body shaking. He trembled and Soap wanted to break this memory too. Wanted to pull away and comfort him, but Simon gripped him hard, not letting him. 
“I’ve never been able to cry easily.” Simon explained. “My dad... I don’t know. My initial psych eval said it was psychological block. Apparently, its common for people to laugh instead.”
Soap nodded and looked around. “No door... Sorry, really thought that one would work.” 
Simon sighed. “It’s not usually this well hidden. I’m getting tired.” 
Soap frowned. That wasn’t good. “Okay. How about you wait in the living room and I’ll come get you when I find it?”
Simon nodded and let Soap push him onto the couch. His lithe frame folding up and shivering. Soap put a few blankets on him and tucked him in. 
He was supposed to have more time, but if Ghost was slipping, he’d need to hurry up. 
Soap went through the remaining doors quickly not sparing them much time. 
Ghost beneath the bleachers with the guy from the party, lips locked together. 
Ghost putting a bullet through someone’s skull while sniping, excitement clear in his eyes. Probably his first kill if this was considered significant. 
Ghost and him. He did pause at this one. 
They had stopped at their doors and looked at each other. Soap had waited, wanting nothing more than to be invited in. Ghost looked at him and Soap glowed. It was weird, seeing how Ghost saw him. He looked perfect. Without flaw. 
He knew for a fact that night he had been dirty and sweaty, hair messed up. But you wouldn’t know any of that from this memory. Soap looked perfect still. 
On instinct, he checked above Ghost’s head. 
“You don’t deserve him.” 
Oh, Simon. Soap watched him turn away and go inside, locking the door. Ghost started undressing and Soap noticed there were some injuries that definitely had not been reported. He watched Ghost bandage himself and then a flush started to build across his cheeks. 
Soap wished he still had Simon here to explain why this is considered important but the words above Ghost’s head appeared first.
“Maybe I could try.” 
Try to deserve him? No. That didn’t seem right. Most of the words were very self depreciative, he doubted it meant that. 
He stepped back from the memory.
Last door. The metal one at the end of the hallway. Maybe he should get...
No. He’d be fine. Simon could continue to relax. If the door wasn’t there, they’d need to restrategize anyway. 
He leaned his head against the door, hearing a suffocating nothingness. 
Fun. 
Soap took a deep breath. No time to be a bitch, Johnny.
He opened it and walked in, surprised to find how bright it was. 
They were in a medical facility. A pretty nice one from the looks of it. 
A surgery gone wrong? He had heard of people on anesthetic not losing consciousness but being paralyzed. Maybe Ghost had gone through something similar. 
That thought was dashed when they dragged him in. Simon was fighting hard, face unscarred for the most part. He fought as hard as he could but there was two of them and he clearly had been beaten, blood running down his face from his nose. 
They all spoke Spanish, but it was garbled. They tied Simon down, locking his hands and feet down so he couldn’t move. 
He glared at them, tensing up. “I’ll fucking kill you.”
“Sure you will, perro.” One of them cooed, like he was a child who said something funny. 
They grabbed a scalpel, but they hadn’t given him anything. He frowned, not understanding what they were doing. 
The scalpel went straight through his skin, cutting down the middle from his sternum to his belly button. Ghost didn’t scream. Just sat there, looking elsewhere. 
Soap watched them, bile rising in his throat. They flayed him until Soap could see straight to his ribs. Could see a few of his organs if he dared to look hard enough. Could see Ghost’s heart beating and then watched as they grabbed needles. 
He focused on Ghost’s face instead of whatever they were about to do. Watched as he bit straight through his lip, blood pouring down his chin. 
The memory didn’t end so much as went fuzzy. Everything got softer around the edges and then it sharpened again suddenly. Ghost tied with his hands behind his back in a different place, a woman in his lap. She held his face and made kissing noise but he tried to turn away, nose wrinkling. Both of them were undressed, but Soap didn’t want to look down. His eyes looked around panicked and Soap noticed a man with skull makeup painted on, watching with this sick grin on his face. 
Ghost’s pupils were huge, bottles of opiates scattered and shattered on the floor. 
And right behind him, red door, black handle. 
Soap fled. He went straight to Simon, dragging him up.
“Come on. We’re going to have to do this fast okay? I don’t want you to look.” He held Simon’s face. “When we get out of here, we’re going to have a bourbon and I’m going to do this again okay?”
“Do wh-” Soap connected their lips briefly.
“When you have stubble and look like my Simon, I’ll give you a better one, yeah?” He knew he sounded frantic, but he needed this to be over. Needed to have Ghost safe in a med bay where he belonged.
Simon blushed and right above his head. “Starstruck” 
That was a much better word. 
“Okay. Let’s go.” Simon held on to him. Soap felt him tense as they neared him, but he didn’t falter. His hands dug into Soap, but even if he bruised him, he wouldn’t have cared. As long as he stayed right next to him, Soap could’ve ignored anything. 
He looked up at Simon. “Why did this memory go fuzzy?”
“I dissociated. I did that a lot during this time.”
“You’re good at it. Learn that during your first tour?”
“Home.” Simon smiled at him, leaning down so they were face to face. 
“Noticed you had a thing for football players. Did you know I played?”
“Course you did.” 
“Did you play any sports?”
“Nah. I was in a band for a while.”
“What?? And none of those memories were considered significant to you?”
“Nope.” Simon smiled teasingly. “I would prefer to forget highschool happened honestly. And this. Like to focus on my time in the military.”
“Your time with me, ya mean?” Soap meant it as a joke, relieved that everything was going fuzzy and they would move to when Ghost woke up and the door. 
“Maybe that’s part of it.” Simon admitted softly.
Soap yanked him hard and shoved him through that dumb door before he could even glance at the memory. They tumbled through the inky blackness and Soap felt him be ripped from it as he spiraled. Darkness was all consuming. All powerful. 
And then he was back in bed. He shot up and the doctors quickly grabbed him.
“You’re good, sir.”
“Ghost?”
“Stabilized and probably waking up right now. Any di-” Soap got up and cut him off.
“Bye then.”
“Sir, we need to examine you t-”
“Nope. I’m good. I’m fine.” Soap walked right past him, going to Ghost instead. 
Ghost was indeed awake and very angry. “If one more of you motherfuckers jabs me with a goddamn needle.”
“It’s an IV.” 
“Get fucked.” Ghost hissed. 
Soap relaxed. “LT.”
“Johnny.” Ghost turned towards him and the nurse stuck him. 
Soap laughed. “Relax. They’re just making sure you’re okay.” He would never admit that he skipped out on his own examination. 
Ghost huffed, back to his normal self. Mask on, everything tucked away. He reluctantly let them finish. 
Soap grabbed one of the cookies he was offered, knowing that Ghost would not eat it while here since that would require lifting the mask. 
Ghost glanced at him briefly before looking away. Soap moved a bit closer.
“You remember what I promised, right?” 
Ghost stiffened. Soap wondered if he was blushing under there. 
“A drink.” 
“And a kiss remember?” 
Ghost hummed. “I’ll be holding you to it.”
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anecdotal-acorn · 2 years
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So I saw Phantom on Broadway last night (10/21) and it was everything I dreamed it would be and more!!!  I have so many thoughts and I thought I'd just list them here:
Act I
- The overture is so much more exhilarating live than on any recording, it was so epic
- The Hannibal elephant was so impressive in person
- When the managers said Raoul would be in their box the dancers FREAKED OUT, especially Meg and Christine, they were so excited <3
- Emilie’s Think of Me cadenza was so clear and resonant–
- When Madame Giry came into the dressing room for Meg she YELLED at her and then did a complete 180 when she turned to Christine
- John is an exquisite Raoul!!! There was so much chemistry between him and Emilie during Little Lotte. He hugged her and then after he said her name pulled away for a second just to look at her…it was so sweet. Then when he left to get his hat he ran off the stage at a full sprint, which was so cute
- Laird had an awesome hat toss and cape twirl with so much flair and extra-ness, and his MOTN was like an out-of-body experience, especially when he said “close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar” and held the note straight-tone and past the music. Then when Christine pulled the mask off he flopped onto the floor like a sack of potatoes XD
- Meg was adorable in Notes, rifling through them at the managers’ desk trying to figure out what was going on.  Erica Wong was so charismatic it's hard to believe she isn't principal!
- Raquel’s comedic timing was impeccable, especially in Il Muto when she mimed pulling off the Serafimo skirt and hat
- Laird’s cackle when Buquet’s body came down is truly unparalleled (gave me chills)
- ALL I ASK OF YOU was sooooo precious!!!!!!! John and Emilie are a top-tier R/C pair!!! Their second kiss was so intense it turned into basically a full-on makeout session and I was LIVING for it; every Raoulstine shipper’s dream ❤️
- Laird was so sad on the angel!!! So much crying and whimpering, and he did this little quiet “no” when Raoul and Christine were singing AIAOY from offstage. But then he growled and it was so cool to see the switch in his mind and watch him put the walls back up and get mad…
- The chandelier drop was as jaw-dropping as expected
Act II
- Raoul and Christine’s Masquerade entrance was so cute, with the spotlight on them and everything
- Laird came down the stairs in the Red Death and Emilie was clinging to John with both arms around his waist
- On the topic of Masquerade, can we talk about how good John looks in the Hussar costume????  Wtf???  
- During Notes II when Piangi said “if you can call this gibberish art” he threw the score book halfway across the stage
- John’s “Christine, Christine, don't think that I don't care” was so soft I think it melted all my organs…he leaned so close to her and acted like it was just the two of them
- Emilie’s Wishing was a highlight of the night. Her belt when that key change hit was so strong I felt it in my bones
- Wandering Child was so cool because by that point I knew how strong the trio was and their voices blended together so well
- The gunshot was so scary! Even though I knew it was coming it still made me jump because it was so loud
- Piangi’s pipes were nuts in his last scene (his “your youngest believes I'm you” right before he went off in particular)
- Laird’s entrance was so cool because he closed the back curtains with so much gusto and then just stood there for a minute like he was being extra or extra nervous (or both). Then his “say you'll share with me one love one lifetime” was so quiet and sad but the “anywhere you go let me go too” got so loud in literally an instant
- Laird’s “Christine, why?” was so heartbreaking because it really seemed like he was so betrayed that she pulled off his mask in front of all those people. When she first pulled it off he didn't even scream, just stood there in disbelief, which he did AGAIN after the kiss. Emilie came on in the wedding dress sobbing “no, no, no” and broke my heart into a million little pieces. John’s “Christine, forgive me, please forgive me” was all levels of desperate and soooo good!!!! Final Lair in general was such a whirlwind and didn't feel like fifteen whole minutes whatsoever, and Laird knocked it out of the park with that final note…they were all the best. I'm so glad I got to see him and John too. It made the show so special since Laird’s not usually there and John’s leaving but I SAW THEM!!!! I still can't believe it.
So yeah. Hope you enjoyed my thoughts :D
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existentialmagazine · 6 months
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Review: The Exhales newest single ‘kick the chair’ embodies warm, catchy indie-rock with a deeply meaningful message on suicide awareness
Since their musical beginnings in 2021, the upcoming indie and alt-rockers The Exhales found themselves quickly carving a name for themselves in the Scottish alternative landscape, marking their explosive entrance with a sold-out show at the storied 'King Tuts Wah Wah Hut' in early 2022. It’s not hard to see why they were so well-loved from the get-go either, with their sound carrying through it bombastic ambition, rich instruments, powerful vocals and lyricism laced in so much personal thought. With two impressive singles under their belt, the group have set off 2024 with a release that reinforces why this four piece are going to go far.
With a title like ‘kick the chair’, you kind of know what you’re getting yourself in for right from pressing play on The Exhales newest single, carrying through it a message that’s hard to stomach but eased by a sound that’s warm and comforting like a good friend in a time of need. From the steady, slightly fast-moving drums that open up the soundscape, to the slowly added rich bass twangs and guitar strums both acoustic and electric, you’ll find yourself whisked up by instruments that land somewhere between bold and loud, as well as intimate and personal. Perhaps that’s why when the vocals hit you feel right at home, coaxed in by their ability to mould together two contrasting senses with one experience made to pull at your own heart strings and experiences. The verse is lifted by this shift too, summoning a change with a backing riff and warmth seeping through their every word, a smoothly charismatic and emotionally charged vocal delivery wrapped into one performance you can’t help but want to sing along to from first listen.
The pre-chorus is unsuspecting, mostly blending in with the already tumbling sound, only quite noticeable in the way their vocalist’s words spew a little bit quicker, and the new ambient tones that whir behind the most poignant line of them all: ‘one good friend took the pills they gave, and one drove his car off the edge of a mountain, the other just kicked that chair.’ It’s hard not to feel breathless in the aftermath of hearing that, a sudden reality check from the opening’s setting of the scene: ‘such a beautiful place to raise the kids out of.’ In these moments you really start to get it, their narrative seeping through as The Exhales acknowledge the way that stagnant small towns can feel utterly isolating, with kids growing older only to feel trapped and distant from the world. From the way it jumps in with a witty sales pitch, to the twisting and distortion that shines through as they reveal the unseen reality, ‘kick the chair’ really proves that The Exhales have carefully crafted an approach you can’t help but feel in your bones.
The track begins to pick up after this with its first short initial chorus, rising through thundering drums, blaring electric guitar and clashing cymbals on the line: ‘don’t make me do this on my own, it’s not that easy.’ This held-back approach only makes it harder hitting when it all switches up the next time around, their protagonist asking: ‘should I just take those pills they gave me, or drive my car into their building? Should I kick the chair?’ As things hit close to home, the chorus finds itself at its loudest and longest yet, running through heavy-handed drum beats, brazen guitar and vocals that soar through highs and lows with a richness to every single emotionally lingering word. The sheer number of these losses is staggering in itself too, once again acknowledged when they add the line ‘it’s not so easy to mourn when you watch a kid buried over and over again’, a heartbreaking slither of grief.
While The Exhales champion a sound that feels modern and youthful the whole way through ‘kick the chair’, their entire delivery and lyrical talent carries soul well beyond their years, poetically expressing one of the most heart-wrenching experiences anyone could ever live through. As their lines like ‘now I’m sick to death of arranging flowers… and who’re they really for?’ will find themselves engrained in your mind for a long time to come, we encourage you listen deeply to the song for yourself here, as The Exhales music is not just made to be heard but to be felt, lived and remembered for a long time to come.
Written by: Tatiana Whybrow
Photo Credits: The Exhales
// This coverage was supported and created via Musosoup, #SustainableCurator.
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letterstotheflre · 3 years
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that’s the thing about illicit affairs
summary: james was never hers to lose.
warnings: CHEATING, age gap (not specified but reader is in her 20s), tiiiny angst?? i don’t think it’s sad lmao, allusions to sex and one miniature sex scene, some food mentions, and a very badly written argument.
word count: 3k (why are they always so long ffs)
a/n: my first james potter fic <3 i love this man so much, sorry for making you the bad guy here. this one’s been sitting in my drafts for a few weeks, and since i’ve been feeling kinda sad i finally got around to edit it. also hedric rights!!
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They always meet like this.
The room is dark except for a small sea salt lamp she bought on sale from Target. Her clothes are piling up on the floor, discarded carelessly by her lover, and his are not too far from meeting the same fate.
He is kissing her hungrily as he could never get enough of her. His hands travel all over her back while she unbuttons his shirt, their lips never parting. He moves her to her bed, the sheets a pale green that reminds him of—
No. He closes his eyes tightly, pretends the green is actually blue like the lacy bralette that covers her breasts and moves his lips down to her jaw. He sucks and nips and bites, letting her moans echo freely between the four walls that make their little sanctuary.
Her hands quickly undo his belt and stroke him lightly through the fabric of his boxers. He groans against the junction of her neck, the skin softer than anything he’s touched in years.
He pushes her down on the bed, cupping her face while he looks at her properly, noting the tangled hair caused by his fingers. Her lips are puffy and shiny, his kisses being the perpetrator of their current state. He waits for her to say something, to give him a sign that this is okay.
(It’s not okay, and they both know it. It’ll never be okay.)
She nods her head, and he kneels in front of her, pushing her legs wide open before he dives in.
She is laying on her bed, the sheets covering her body as she watches him try to fix up his hair in front of the mirror on her makeshift vanity.
“Make sure no one sees you leave,” she says, “and put—”
“Put my hood up, I know,” he finishes the sentence for her. It’s not the first time they do this dance.
“Sirius and Remus are with Harry at home. I told them I was going for a run, so they won’t say anything if I show up all sweaty,” he adds, trying to fill the awkward silence.
She just nods her head, fingers playing with a loose thread on the edge of the sheet, pulling it a bit more every time she twists her index finger. He steps forward, then sits on her bed and traces her cheekbone with his knuckles. “You know I care about you, right?” he asks.
Her heart clenches, a heavy weight pressing down on her chest that makes it hard to breathe for a second. She lowers her eyes, refusing to stare at those hazel irises that started everything. “I know, James,” she assures quietly, looking at a picture of her and Harry that’s stuck to the wall just behind him.
James brushes back some stray hairs that are still stuck to her forehead, then presses a small kiss on the slightly sweaty skin. He gives her a tentative smile before heading to the door, and she only looks in his direction when she hears the click of the door.
(He might care, but not enough.)
Sundays are always a slightly awkward affair at first.
Both of their families have been friends for years, getting together every Sunday for lunch at the Potter’s. James and Sirius always man the grill with her dad, all of them wearing those corny ‘kiss the chef!’ aprons. Her mother helps Lily make the salads in the kitchen while they gossip with Remus, who steals a few tomatoes when they aren’t looking. Now that it’s summer, she and Harry splash each other in the pool instead of catching up in his room.
It’s always strange seeing James in the light of day, pretending that this is the only version of him she knows: the version of him that is a friend, a father, a husband.
But she knows the other version of him: the one that has her on her knees begging for a taste of him, the one that grips her hair while he pounds into her from behind, the one that lets his tongue explore places of her no one else has. The version of him that kisses her forehead and plays with her fingers while their bodies are tangled together under the sheets. The version of him that kisses her as if she were the only one made for him.
(She isn’t.)
They are sitting around the table eating. Sirius is laughing about something with his arm around Remus’s shoulders, his bark of laughter echoing across the garden. Her mother’s shoulders shake as Lily rolls her eyes in amusement. James and her father have gone back to the grill to bring everyone their second round of burgers, and she can hear her father complaining about something from work.
“Here y’go, kid,” says James as he places the plate in front of her before ruffling her hair. She tenses up for a second before relaxing, muttering a small “thank you” before reaching for the ketchup.
She hates that nickname. It’s so impersonal, keeps a distance between them that truly doesn’t exist. As if he isn’t the only person that can make her vision whiten and the colours of her room hazy while she clutches his shoulders. As if he isn’t the only person who can pull so many different sounds from her vocal cords, sounds he knows no one else has ever heard before because he is the only one who can create them.
She can feel Sirius’s eyes on her as she stretches one arm, so she hesitantly glances at him. He raises an eyebrow, eyes switching back and forth between James and her, and she can see the cogs turning in his mind.
She gulps anxiously, dismissing him with a wave of her hand and goes back to eating.
James’s moans are loud as he gathers her hair in a makeshift ponytail. His cock is buried in her throat, and he watches as she gags for a second before relaxing her throat.
She’s taking him so deep that her nose nuzzles his pubic hair, the musky scent of James filling her nose as she breathes deeply through it. She starts moving her head up and down, swirling her tongue around the tip every time she rises.
He is a mess above her, needy whines and wanton moans leaving his mouth. His hips thrust up softly, slowly fucking her mouth, and he relishes in the small choking sounds she makes. His head rolls back as he groans, “That’s it, baby, so good to me.”
She winces at the name and pulls away from him. “Don’t call me that,” she mutters, but her hands never stop stroking him. She takes him back into her mouth and starts sucking with a newfound fervour, his voice echoing inside her head as she tries to make him forget about her.
(She tries to forget too.)
Honey rays filter through her window.
They are both laying on her bed, James on his stomach while she refills the glasses with some cheap wine she got from the store. He looks at the tiny purple splotches on her neck and the red fingerprints on her hips, then smirks proudly. When she turns, she smiles at him softly.
There’s a summer breeze that ruffles her curtains, and he can hear some teenagers laughing as they walk down the street over the music that plays from her speaker.
She places her glass on her nightstand, her nipples brushing his naked back as she leans over him. She lays down on her side, her fingertips softly drawing shapes on his skin. It takes him a moment to realize they are not random shapes but letters.
Her name, written over his scattered freckles and connecting his moles with cursive loops.
He takes her hand and kisses it, slightly chapped lips pressing against her open palm. Then he kisses her lips, still bitterly sweet with grapes, as his tongue moves languidly against hers while he pulls her by the hand on top of him.
It feels like a distant memory. It feels like a dream.
The cacophony of different voices singing “Happy Birthday” rings in her ears.
Harry is at the front of the table, an adorable blush dusting his cheeks at the attention. On either side of him are James and Lily, smiles wide as they watch their son blow the candles. Cedric is behind him, hands on his shoulders, and he leans forward to give him a quick peck on the cheek.
She sings and claps, whooping with Sirius when Harry blows the last candle. She eats cake and drinks the pretty cocktails Lily ordered. She smiles and laughs, pretends she couldn’t see the way the candles made the golden band on James’s ring finger beam like the sun.
She pretends she doesn’t see the way James holds Lily’s waist before kissing her. She pretends she can’t see them dancing slowly to a song Remus put on the Spotify playlist as a joke.
She pretends she can’t hear his footsteps following her when she goes to the bathroom. She feigns disinterest when he grabs her wrist and pulls her towards a deserted corridor.
But she can’t ignore the butterflies in her stomach when he kisses her, the thrumming in her veins when he pushes one leg between her thighs, nor the pleasure-filled gasps and moans that leave her mouth when he helps her roll her hips along his covered thigh.
It’s thrilling; they’ve never done something like this in public, much less in such proximity to friends and family.
(In such proximity to her.)
Even though she knows it shouldn’t, it gives her a sense of victory. Because he is here with her now: he is kissing her, making her moan, and whispering dirty things in her ear.
A faraway call of his name breaks the spell they’re under. They pull away hastily; she fixes her dress while James makes sure there are no lipstick stains on his face. The footsteps are getting closer, heels hitting the floorboards at the same rhythm as their rapid beating hearts.
It’s Sirius.
James almost breathes a sigh of relief, but she remains tensed up. Sirius looks between them, the same look he had that Sunday all those weeks ago on his face, and she feels bile rising in her throat.
“Lily’s looking for you,” he says, his thumb pointing back over his shoulder towards the reception where everyone’s gathered.
“Right,” says James. “Better go see what she needs. You do not want to see an angry drunk Lily.” He laughs, almost oblivious to the awkward tension between his two friends. He goes back to Lily, leaving her leaning against the wall and Sirius standing in the middle of the hallway.
Sirius looks at her, and even though his mind already knows, he refuses to believe it. “I didn’t know where the bathroom was,” she offers as an explanation. It’s a flimsy excuse, she knows that, but it’s the best she can do under this kind of pressure.
“Right,” he whispers with a short nod, then follows James.
She stays rooted to her spot, lips tingling with the ghost of James touch and a guilty mind.
Hours later, she clings to a pillow as she lays on her bed alone. The same pillow James was resting on less than twelve hours ago.
She breathes in deeply, trying to catch any scent of him she can, but there’s only the scent of her fabric softener.
There’s no James. No citrus shampoo or woodsy cologne nor salty air from the beach near his house. Because he never wears any cologne when he comes to her, ensuring that there’s no trace of him once he leaves.
Like he doesn’t even exist.
It ends in a parking lot a month later.
She was waiting for Luna to arrive at the mall but ended up asking for a rain check when James texted her, saying they needed to talk.
‘Meet me behind the mall’, she texts him.
She walks to the back of the building and waits for his red car to show up. She already knows where this conversation is going to go, and her heart shatters at the thought of saying goodbye to him.
She raises her head when she hears a honk in front of her, and she gets in while whispering a small “hey”. He doesn’t start the car again, just settles for turning the ignition key off. She looks at the families leaving the mall through the tinted window, refusing to look at him, as her knee bounces up and down anxiously.
The silence is heavy, and she suddenly feels cold in the August heat.
James takes a deep breath, “We can’t keep doing this.”
She can’t help the snarky comment. “That’s not what you were saying yesterday while you had your fingers buried inside me.” He looks at her unimpressed, and she rolls her eyes.
“It’s wrong,” he says— as if she doesn’t already know that. “C’mon, baby, don’t make this harder than it has to—”
“I told you not to call me that!” she raises her voice, and the car gets silent again. She hates the tears that gather in her eyes, hates that she cares so much about him and their stupid game, but she couldn’t help it. Not when he whispered so many sweet nothings in her ears and caressed her skin so softly, almost afraid to break him if he was too rough.
(Not that he cared about that when he stretched her wide open and thrust so hard into her that the bed frame banged against the wall.)
“You can’t just show up here and tell me it’s over like you weren’t the one that came to me first,” she jeers, and she can see the tick of his jaw as he clenches it. Good, she thinks, make him angry.
“Don’t just blame me. You didn’t say ‘no’ once.” He grounds out, “In fact, I can recall you were begging me to fuck you against the wall.”
Her cheeks turn into a small fire, a slight feeling of shame overcoming her. “Oh, like you were any better!” she exclaims. “‘Been thinking about you for months.’ ‘You have no idea the things you do to me.’ ‘No one can suck my cock like you.’ ‘I care about you!’” She deepens her voice to mock him.
James opens his mouth to keep the ball rolling, and she wants him to do it because it meant that the fight was still on, that they wouldn’t have to end this. Instead, he takes a deep breath to calm himself. “I’m telling you now it’s over. Stop acting like a kid who didn’t get her Christmas present,” he says, knowing exactly what he is doing with those words.
“I’m not a kid,” she snaps, her eyes fighting back angry teats at his dismissal. “Then stop acting like one,” he shrugs.
Her hands turn into fists, nails digging themselves into her palms as she tries to keep her anger at bay. “Do you know how much of myself I gave to you? How many plans with my friends have I cancelled in case you called? How many guys I stopped seeing because they weren’t you?” she rants, her voice increasing in volume as she lets her frustration take over. Then, she pauses. “You’ve ruined me, James.”
Her voice is so pained that it makes his heart clench, and he lowers his head, refusing to look at her. He knows, God, he knows what he’s done, but he couldn’t help it. He had been so lonely with Lily spending so much time at the hospital, and then there she was with her caring and understanding nature. With her adorable laughs and those touches that were so addictive, a mercurial high that gave him the lowest lows whenever he tried to stop.
He keeps his mouth shut; there’s nothing left to say anyway, and it’s better for her to hate him rather than anything else. “You are not going to say anything?” It’s meek, vulnerable, and she wants to slap herself for acting this way. She knew it would never last, that he would always choose her.
He was never hers to lose, so why is she still fighting?
She nods her head in surrender, biting her lip to stop herself from sobbing. The anger now gave way to sadness, “I can’t believe I let you make a fool of me.” Her voice is hoarse, a result of the lump in her throat that prevents her from swallowing comfortably.
She gets out of the car and slams the door shut, then leaves the parking lot, leaving him behind. She keeps walking, fingers gripping the straps of her bag until she reaches an empty street.
The golden sun is ready to dip on the horizon, and she can hear James’s car speeding behind her.
She doesn’t let the tears fall until she’s inside her apartment.
The moment she closed the door, she crumbled to her knees, loud sobs falling from her mouth and fat tears rolling down her cheeks. It takes her a moment to gather enough strength to walk to her room.
She cries and cries, buries her face in her pillows and starts sobbing even harder because she can smell him. The salty scent and citrus shampoo finally embedded themselves in the fabric, and she can’t believe that after all those days she craved to feel him close to her, he chooses now to leave a trace behind.
She cries for hours until her eyes are puffy and red, and snot comes out of her nose. Her chest heaves with short breaths that don’t really fill her lungs as she clings to that damn pillow before throwing it across the room. She can’t believe it ended like this: with her completely broken for anyone else while James gets to go back to his life and act like nothing ever happened.
Yet she knows that if she had to choose, she would do it all over again because if she had to choose someone to be her ruination, she would choose James Potter a million times.
TAGLIST: @emmaev @gxtitobxby @ildm4ev @capsmischief @arisblackhole @dracosafety @dracoxgeorge @tonystarksmutgarden @blowing-mikey @roonilwazlibswhore @lovelylupinx @sarcasmismyon1ydefence @marxy-06 @glossiable @remusjlupinisdead @amixedwitch @mattefic @artisancowbells @zzzfour — if you want to be added tap here
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buckybarnesdiaries · 3 years
Text
my sergeant
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© credits to the author, i found it on pinterest. if you are the author, please send me a message to add your @.
bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.
Bucky breaks into your house to make you keep remember one thing.
word count: 1.352 words.
warnings/tags: nsfw, +18!!! clothes on, unprotected sex, hair pulling, language, cursing, sergeant!kink, praise!kink, mention of bodily fluids, a little possessive!bucky, and i don't know what else.
author notes: i'm not sorry for this scene turning me on af every time i watch it. reposted because it didn't show in the tags. none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.
Join the tag list here.
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Your eyes snapped open, sitting up on your bed barely breathing. You were agitated after having another nightmare you couldn't remember once you were awake. At least this time, you weren't covered in sweat, but your whole body was on fire. Tossing the sheets away, you got up bare feet to head to the kitchen and drink a very much needed glass of freshwater. You drank it in one gulp, gasping while leaving it inside the sink. With both hands on the edge of the counter, you inclined your head back, putting your eyes on the ceiling. Those bad dreams would be the death for you one day, you knew it.
As you felt more calmed and recomforted, you turned around with the intention of going to your bed again. But that was left in the background at the moment you glimpsed Bucky sitting at the dinner table. He didn't scare you, not at all. You were starting to get used to find him there, waiting for you, in the middle of the gloom. He looked exhausted too. Deadly tired. He was reclined against the chair, legs slightly spread and his arm made of vibranium over the table. The soldier didn't utter a word, following your steps walking closer to him with his shiny blue eyes. He didn't even move a muscle when you sat on his lap and placed both hands on the sides of his neck.
Leaning ahead, you pecked his rough and dry lips slowly, taking your time with no rush. Bucky just closed his eyes, slipping his hands down to your hips, nailing his fingers there. He couldn't help but growl quietly the second your mouth trailed a path of short, ephemeral kisses to his jawline till reaching his throat, forcing him to toss his head back. Unconsciously, he urged you to swing your body on top of his. You dragged your incisors on his Adam's apple, causing him to swallow a soft gasp, feeling his digits grabbing your hips strongly —probably, that gesture would leave some marks on your skin.
“I've missed you”. You purred coming back your attention to his lips, as the bulge under the rigid fabric of his pants became bigger and harder because of your dance. You were aware that he looked for you whenever he wanted to put his feet on the ground, feel loved, desired. “My Sergeant…”
Bucky didn't open his eyes, sliding his cold palm to your lower waist and landing the warm one on the back of your head to tangle it in your hair. You groaned against his lips before they were hungrily devoured. The heat in your core grew by leaps and bounds when he repositioned you on his legs and his solid erection was placed under your weakest spot. You couldn't hold back a delicate, sweet moan. One of these that used to drive him insane. With his left hand, Bucky continued encouraging you to rock your hips against his crotch, rubbing it concretely among your folds covered by the soaked fabric of your panties.
You hated sometimes the control he had over you, over your body, over your mind. He could put you to beg with just one look. And he knew it. You were his, that was the absolute truth. And he wanted something else from you, as soon as you increased the pace. Bucky didn't care about your t-shirt, using both of his hands to rip it off from your body. Ruining it like he was going to ruin you. His hand of vibranium went straight to your breasts, giving you goosebumps because of the contrast of his cold fingers pinching them as he caught one of your nipples between his warm lips. You whined his name, securing your hands on his shoulders, out of the world while the sensitivity of your wet and needed cunt became more sensible to the firm rubbing against your panties.
“You want to cum, don't you, babydoll?” He hummed squeezing the nipple covered in his saliva using his thumb and his forefinger, bringing his lips closer to yours.
“Yes… Yes, Sergeant”. You pouted at him, nodding with your chin and looking at him through your eyelids.
“I knew you needed me… I knew my sweet girl needed her Sergeant to make her feel good, am I wrong?” Bucky's hoarse tone was pushing you to the seventh heaven, feeling the tickles borning within your lower belly, swinging your body faster over his rock-hard dick.
“No… No, you're… you're not”. You babbled this time, seeing him curling up the corner of his lips in that charming and breathtaking smirk of him. “I ne— need you inside me… I need you to… fuck me like you me— mean it, my Sergeant, please, I beg you”.
“I will, babydoll, I will… 'Cause you're a good, good girl”. Bucky affirmed unhurriedly, peppering your swollen lips, remembering how good they looked around his cock —sucking his soul out of his body— the last time he appeared in your house. “Open your mouth”.
You obeyed instantly, swallowing a loud whining, letting him tuck his cold thumb between your lips. You licked it using your tongue, giving him a whole show and noticing how a storm of darkness covered his pale blue orbs. When he decided it was well covered in your saliva, Bucky directed it to your panties, not pulling them aside. And he drew circles on your throbbing clit, pressing his fingertip enough to stroke it.
“Oh, f— fuck, Sergeant”. You sobbed arching your back, very close to being thrown above the edge of your limits.
“C'mon, babydoll… cum for me… Show me what only I can make you feel”. He whispered into your ear. A raspy voice that gave you shivers down your backbone. “You're so damn soaked I can feel it under my clothes… Good lord… what a dirty girl you are…”
“Only fo— for you”.
Your response came an instant before the fireworks exploded inside your belly, not being able to stop when the orgasm hit your soul crying his name, dancing your cunt onto his hard cock needed of him. Your thighs strained, your legs were shaking, hanging above the floor and you were panting nonsense words about your Sergeant.
Bucky stormed his tongue into your mouth, invading it with no mercy to dominate yours. Placing his hands back to your hips, he forced you to keep moving, stealing the less air inside your lungs. He was about to cum too, but it'd be a waste if he did it in his boxers; stopping you at the precise moment to push you back enough to undo his belt and zip. Bucky didn't let you time to react. As his cock covered in his own arousal broke free and he removed your ruined panties to the side, he lifted you sufficiently to impale your pussy down.
“Fuck!” You both hissed at the same time, closing strongly your eyelids.
Bucky made you bounce onto his rigid erection, once and once, keen to fill you up with his heated seed. You were a bundle of moans, sobs, and pleas, feeling his most sensible skin stretching your soaked walls and twitching between them. He didn't give you prior notice. Bucky just cum inside your cunt, pushing you down harder till his dick was balls-deep beyond your limits. He growled against your throat, pulling back your hair and your head, to nail his teeth in your sweaty skin.
“Oh, god, my Sergeant…” You gasped with a wrecked tone of voice, finding balance by gripping his jacket in two fists.
“You look like Heaven, babydoll… But you feel like Hell”. Bucky rumbled, making your whole anatomy shake again. “What a shame 'm gonna destroy you tonight…”
And by destroying you he meant you wouldn't be able to walk the next morning, not even to talk because what he has planned for you was to fuck every sweet, warm hole of you —your mouth, your ass, your pussy. Or rather, his mouth, his ass, his pussy. Bucky would make you keep remembering who you belonged to.
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feedback is appreciated, please, leave a comment to let me know if you liked it.
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2K notes · View notes
shugojima · 3 years
Text
OIKAWA X IWAIZUMI X YN 🍋
𝖣𝖺𝖽𝖽𝗒 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗄✔︎
𝖲𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 d𝖾𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖽𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇✔︎
𝖣𝗈𝗎𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝗉𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇✔︎
𝖨𝗐𝖺 & 𝖳𝗋𝖺𝗌𝗁𝗒𝗄𝖺𝗐𝖺 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝖽𝗂𝗈𝗍𝗌✔︎
Enjoy ♡︎
---
You and your best friend were standing in the hallway of your school, Aoba Johsai, talking a little about things girls talk about.
Boys.
Little did you know the object of interest stood right behind the corner patiently waiting for Iwaizumi to finally come out of the classroom.
"Don't fucking lie to me, Y/n! I know you like him. You got those heart eyes!"
She mocked you and as soon as Oikawa heard her saying your name, his ears went dog mode.
"I.. might like him a little... I mean he's cute but I don't stand a change anyway so why bothering."
Meanwhile Iwaizumi came walking towards him and Oikawa quickly covered his mouth, leaving him angry.
"Be quiet, Iwa chan. I'm observing."
His friend snapped his hand off his mouth "What shit are you up to now, huh?"
"SHHHHH!"
Your best friend slapped your head and went "Y/n fuck! Why don't you just try?! Worst thing that could happen is when his arrogant ass tells you to fuck off. But as far as I know, Oikawa doesn't miss out on any pussy offer."
She chuckled and put her hand on my shoulder.
"Oh lord.... now I get it. This shit again."
Iwaizumi sighs making his way to the cafeteria. "Iwa chan! Save me some Onigiri okay??!" Shit. That was too loud.
You jumped and looked around for him as soon as you heard his voice.
And the moment you saw the tall, beautiful setter walking towards you, you heart was beating out of your chest.
"Go get him, tiger." F/N said winking at you when Oikawa came to stand infront of you, that big, beautiful smile on his face.
"O-Oikawa?" you stuttered making him laugh. He leaned in on you, his face now only 2 inches from yours.
"You know... your friend might be right. I sure am a greedy man when it comes to cuties like you."
You could feel his breath on your lips as he was speaking and your face turned bright red.
His thumb tracing your lower lip he smirked down at you waiting for your response.
And oh how he loved seeing you all emberassed because of him.
You wanted to escape his gaze but then again you don't.
Unable to say anything he took it in his own hands.
"You wanna fuck me, is that right?" He whispers in your ear before nibbing on your lobe a little.
Your eyes widened at his straight forwardness but you gathered all your confidence and nodded.
"That's what I thought. It's always the same with you girls. Not that I mind."
He grabbed your wrist dragging you into the now empty classroom and shut the door closed before he sat you on a table.
"You... we can't.. do it here..." You said when he came closer, putting his hands on your bare thighs.
"And why is that? I don't see anyone else around. We'll be fine."
Leaning in on you he gave you a intense kiss, his tongue finding it's way into your mouth and the feeling of his soft, sweet lips made you moan a little.
How many times you've imagined this exact moment.
Smirking at him succesfully driving you crazy, his fingers moved over your wet panties, one of his fingers putting pressure on your sweet spot.
"Nghhh"
"Try to keep quiet, love or I might have to teach you some discipline."
He went down on you, pulling your panties down with him as his face disappeared under your short skirt.
His tongue greedely licking off your sweet juices as he started to suck on your clit.
Your moans filled the classroom when your hand grabbed his brown locks, pushing his mouth closer to you as the door shut open.
"TRASHYKAWA WHER-"
Iwaizumi's eyes widened at the sight of you two and you jumped off the table quickly covering your face.
"I brought some Oninigi with me but I see you're already enjoying your meal."
He said as he walked in and slowly closed the door, his eyes on you.
"Sharing is caring, Kawa."
"Ughh fine... but her mouth is mine."
Trying to realize what was about to happen you stood there, shaking and emberassed before Iwaizumi walked up to you, grabbing a fist of your hair, tilting your head back.
"So you're another little volleyball slut huh? Guess it's your lucky day then."
Your eyes rolling back he slid a finger in between your lips making you whine.
"Did that idiot make you so wet? Is he so good at eating desperate pussy?"
"I HEAR YOU BIZATCH!" Oikawa cried about his friends insult.
"Shut it, Kawa. Daddy's turn now."
Iwaizumi threw you over the table, you holding on to the edge when you heard him unbuckling his belt.
"You don't fuck in school. That's just inappropriate, you know?"
Looping his belt he lifted your skirt and hit you hard as you whined and teared up a little.
"You just don't do that. What if someone walked in on you? Oh wait... that'd be me."
Hitting you harder again your grip tightened on the table when you turned your head left and saw Oikawa sitting on a nearby table, watching the scene with a smile, licking his lips.
"Meany, Iwa chan...."
"Shut it or you're next."
Eyes half closed you tried to keep as quiet as possible when Iwaizumi dropped the belt making you sigh in releave.
He just chuckled "Don't think I'm done here, baby. Daddy's just getting started."
He quickly got rid of his pants and pressed his hard cock against your ass making you grind on him in need for any kind of friction.
"Oh look at you, babygirl. So fucking desperate for my cock aren't you?"
"Y-yes... I am, Daddy."
"Fuck. Say that again." He wrapped his hand around your throat leaning in on you and whispered "Again."
"I- I need your cock, Daddy... I need it so bad."
-Iwaizumi feral mode activated-
"Fucking right and Daddy's gonna make you cream all over it." He growled as he spread your slick lips and pushed himself all in.
HOLY SHIT.
You screamed in pain and pleasure when the grip around your throat tightened the other hand on your hips, moving you in sync with his hard thrusts.
"You like that, baby? My fat cock inside your little fuckhole? Stretching you out real good?"
Oikawa was getting a little impatient watching him fuck you.
He walked up to you on the other side of the desk where you hold on dear life
"I did all the hard work, getting her to do this in the first place so why the fuck do I sit watching??"
That wasn't a question tho.
He impatiently unzipped his pants and pulled out his throbbing hard cock, wasting no time to bring it to your lips.
"If it's to hard for you to concentrate on sucking me good because of Iwa chan, I might just facefuck you myself. You don't want that do you?"
You shook your head no "Thought so. Now show me if you're worth my time."
One hand letting go of the table you grabbed his length and started stroking before you spit on his tip and licked circles around it.
Oikawa letting out a slight moan and Iwa put your right leg on the table so he could go even deeper.
Iwa's cock now hitting the right spot as you threw your head back in pleasure, moans escaping your mouth when Oikawa grabbed your head and forced himself all down your throat.
"I said concentrate." he said with a strict tone.
You choked hard on it since it was rediculously huge. Even bigger than Iwaizumis, who was still fucking you up from behind.
Him hitting that one spot over and over again you moaned onto Oikawas cock and it made him go crazy.
You imagined that hearing him moan because of you would sound great but the sounds that left his pretty mouth were nothing short than heavenly. Music to your ears.
Iwaizumi felt your walls clench around him. He went harder and faster and started rubbing your clit.
"Be a good girl and cream all over Daddy's cock, will you?"
"Y-ye.... NGHHH FUCK!!"
You obeyed and rode out your high on his thick cock. Soon after you did he pulled out and spilled his hot cum all over your ass, some of it dripping down your pussy.
Oikawa was on the edge. Your heavy screams on his cock fueld his fire.
"Iwa chan. Come here, take her head for me. I wanna enjoy in peace."
He jumped on the table, hovering over you, knees on your sides as he grabbed your head and pushed it down on his friends cock, rolling his eyes.
"Lazykawa..."
"Shut it Iwa chan! Nghhh... go faster."
It hurt but having one man fucking your head onto another mans cock turned you on way too much to care about something so unrelevant.
Tears streaming down your face and drool leaking out of your mouth he came down your sore throat and moaned your name.
Pulling out the both of them zipped up their pants and grabbed their stuff.
Oikawa leaning in on you he gave you a quick kiss on your cheek, all wet from the tears you shed seconds ago.
"Best whore I had so far."
Mumbling to yourself as they walked out leaving you behind all fucked up you said
"But Oikawa... I don't wanna be your best whore. I wanna be your only whore.
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deviltoys · 3 years
Text
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— ‘𝗯𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗯𝗼𝘆.’
sakusa kiyoomi x top!male reader. (wc; 1.7k)
#a/n: lolol self-indulgent sakusa fic because i wanna breed him so bad. this is painfully horrible and short but hopefully enough to feed everyone for the time being!
warnings. NSFW CONTENT, MINORS DNI, blindfold, overstimulation, breeding k., frat!au, gangbang, dubcon turned con, belly bulge, cum inflation, no aftercare, manipulation, sex slavery, implied somnophila.
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joining the most prominent fraternity on campus was the last thing on his mind. sakusa struggled immensly when it came to social interaction, he even took extra precautions to avoid having to exchange any dialogue between peers. especially a bunch of guild boys who could barely keep their heads attached to their shoulders; but atsumu had somehow convinced him to give it a shot.
according to the miya twin, he needed to push past this boundaries and explore his comfort threshold a little more. the perfect place to do just that? a frat house. who's more loud and rowdy than a couple of douchebag adults trying to assert their alpha-ness by hosting a copious amount of house parties.
as much as he beseeched and argued against it, the frat scene had him hook, line and sinker. and soon, the unbearable pull of charming guys passing around pamphlets for recruitment day had caught up to him.
the hall of residence was a lot more alluring that media would lead on. he was pleasantly surprised by the cleanliness and charm of the home; the parade of shirtless guys crowding around the hobby room only added a sense of authenticity to the whole ordeal.
after he was plucked into the roster of other men trying their hand at slipping a way into the frat life of their dreams. the initiation was on the horizon, and sakusa’s overwhelming social anxiety from the day prior came flooding right back into his system. he had forgotten the most important rule about a brotherhood, proving your worth and loyalty to your new family.
the two paths you could choose to go down were no bed of roses— the first opportunity was to streak and sprint down the length of the campus yard. or a play special game, in which your fellow brothers would surprise you with.
no way in hell would he sacrifice his dignity by stripping down bare and humiliating himself in front of the entire university. his education was on the line, he had a reputation to uphold; the only option was to partake in whatever the sorority had waiting for him.
that's where you came in, merely handing the dark-haired male a piece of cloth to don around his eyes. the last thing he could recall about his surroundings was the eeriely warm yet sadistic expression you gave him— his vision melting into a blur of black when the blindfold made contact his skin.
“just find a place to sit on one of the couches, my brothers’ll be with you soon.” your tone was low and gravely, the remainder of his senses were heightened due to his loss of vision. his ears exploding with your voice and your voice only, he felt the flesh on his cheeks bleed from pink to red; praying you wouldn't notice his shift in attitude.
“ye- yeah.. okay, thanks.”
your footsteps faded into the backdrop, signalling him to begin his search for the couch. he'd rather die than have you watch him scramble around the room like a headless chicken. he stumbled around a little, as predicted— bumping into furniture here and there before his hips knocked into a pool table frequently used for beer pong.
his hands feel around the object in an attempt to slip past it, amongst all the chaos he's experiencing he's dimly aware of the presence of a group of people. the scuffling of shoes against the hardwood floors only solidify his suspicions, but before he's able to call out to you; or anyone. heavy pressure is placed atop his shoulder blades— the curve of hips lace into the divit of his ass until he's pressed against the table.
the silence drifting around the open space between your bodies isn't broken, nobody dare mumbles a sound. your broad palms slink up the underside of his shirt, keeping a painfully slow pace up his chest until your fingers pinch the first nipple they come in contact with. your free hand snakes around his hip and dips into the hem of his jeans before making it's way into the waistband of his boxers.
his body shudders desperately, thighs bucking forward as your fist pumps around the length of his twitching cock. by the time he can gasp out a flurry of winces, two fingers that weren't there previously, poke and prod around his rim. devilishly forcing his walls to mold around them and shape room for a few more.
both of your hands now find a home around his hips. your groin, which is positioned at his rear, ruts the outline of your erect bulge against his ass— plowing the multitude of fingers already planted inside of him, deeper. this only entails that the fingers now wrapped around his cock, teasing his chest, and sinking into the depths of his rectum all belong to a different set of people.
he once more unclamps his jaw to sputter out more nonsense, only moaning once the warm, wet agitation of lips suck a dark mark into the curve of his collarbone. he's overcome with bliss, marveling in the way each frat member simultaneously toys with his sensitive body.
an abundance of hands fumble with his zipper, unbuckling the leather around his waist— unlooping the material before tossing it aside. you shove his pants down past his calves, releasing your grip on him so that you're able to abandon your own set of clothes. there's more rustling of clothes and clinking of belt buckles and your hands return to him once more, binding his arms and shoulders while gently bending him onto the table.
bracing for impact, he's pleasantly astonished when his chin and shoulders sink into something soft and pillowy. you were kind enough to replace the hard surface beneath him with one of the sofa cushions, strengthening his trust in you.
with his body now calm and relaxed with aura around the six of you, you take a few moments to prepare your cock to breed your good little fuck toy.
hot breath teases the meek, male’s ear; your monstrous cock pressing into puckered hole only making the lewd torture of the situation worse.
“miya told us you'd like to become our little breeder sakusa, we've had our eye on you for awhile. is this true? do you want us to pump your little womb full of our children?”
atsumu? he was the one who had him in this position, such a trusted friend making him seem special enough to catch the attention of these compassionate boys? maybe he was born to be a slave for cock. atsumu wouldn't lie to him, would he?
oh poor kiyoomi, if only he saw right through that twisted facade.
you growl into the shell of his ear, he figures that you're the one who's bending over his back; threatening to breach his fertile hole. being the head of the frat, you got first dibs on all the fresh meat brought in, it's sad you'd have to share this one with your brothers.
there's nothing sakusa has to resist with, he whimpers out a few noises before you're rewarded with a barade of nods. a rise of chuckles and quiet exclamations from the group feed through his brain— apparently all of your peers are patiently waiting for their own couple of minutes with him. silent vulgarites phase past your teeth as you impatiently card a hand through his thick curls. plunging into the boy with one fluid motion, your cock vanishes from sight, disappearing inside of his stomach.
his ebony iris’ screw shut behind the blindfold. you can feel the way his womb parts just for your cock, the slimey g-spot of his is completely ignored as you push past it; the fat head of your cock mercilessly drilling into his belly. your cock is on full display, the layers of flesh seperating you from the outside world bend and jiggle around the outline of your shaft.
“i sure do hope you have enough room for all of our cum in there.” your thrusts don't falter, not daring to give his poor, ruined prostate a breather. “because we're not stopping until every single one of us has had a chance to knock you up!”
with those final words rolling off your tongue, your hips snapped long and harsh strokes into his twitching hole— cum bursting at the seams of your slit, balls tightening and enlarging as the pent up pleasure and lust readied the fat sacks for release. sakusa feels his tummy bloom with the first batch of warmth, sticky ropes of seed shoot right inside. perfectly filling him up in preparation for the next cock eager to breed his tight ass!
so wonderful, his womb feels so full and claimed! a bright and hot flush pools across his face; without warning the next cock sinks even deeper than the last. more of the groups genes passing through him, mating the frat’s new bitch over and over again. he's hit by a wave of orgasms after the second brother slams himself nice and deep, pumping his seed inside him once more. his asshole greedily opening and closing to filter as much thick cum as humanly possible into his intestines. before he's able to come to his senses, he's already chubby with semen; happily inviting the next member to come and breed his stupid body.
the entire night is flooded with sounds of hiccuping, skin on skin contact, and the leaking of cum being deposited right back into sakusa. the incredible feeling of his frat brothers groping and touching him up have him cumming time after time— all night he's shuddering as another orgasm passes through his frame.
once he's positively gushing with cum and reduced to nothing but an overstimulated puddle of arousal— you scoop up his limp, bloated body, collecting the rest of your buddies before carrying him to his very own dorm. labeling his room, the ‘breeding room’. the sorority didn't let him waste a dime of time rejuvenating his body with sleep. they didn't want their new play thing to go to waste; he was awoken multiple times during the wee hours of the night. cock fitted tightly between his lavish cheeks.
he was certainly going to love it here, nothing but a obedient puppet.
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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years
Text
Always There To Get Me Goin’ (Part 3)
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Summary: The reader surprises Jensen on the last day on set and gets a surprise of her own when she finally gets to see him in his suit...
Masterlist
Pairing: Jensen x reader
Word Count: 1,300ish
Warnings: language, smut
A/N: Enjoy!
______
“Well good morning to me,” you said, whistling as Jensen walked into his trailer wearing a tank top and sporting his normal amount of scruff once again. “Oh look at those little cheeks.”
“How the hell…” he trailed off when you held up a badge. “But we’re not allowed visitors-“
“I am technically a…production assistant intern,” you said, reading off the badge. “I DM’d Kripke. He got me a pass for the day.”
“Oh so technically you have to do whatever I ask you to,” he said. You held up a hand and waggled it, Jensen stalking over to where you sat, leaning against the arm rests. “Now you’re not handling your job duties very well are you.”
“I will handle many things later. After work.” He pouted, leaning in close. “Don’t worry. I’ll tug on that pretty hair as much as you want.”
“Fine,” he whined. “But only because I need to make a quick video and then change before I film one last scene.”
“Wait you’re filming without a beard? Why-”
“Sh. Spoiler free household remember,” he said. You opened your mouth and he put a hand over it. “I’d keep that shut. Never know what might slip in there.”
“Slip things wherever you like,” you mumbled. He hummed, pecking a quick kiss on your lips. 
“Stay put. I won’t be long.”
“Fuck,” you said to yourself when Jensen got back to his trailer when he was done for the day. You hadn’t seen him in person in his suit before and the pictures did not do him justice. He took a deep breath before stopping in front of your chair.
“I could use some help getting out of this,” he said. “Wouldn’t want me to report you to your boss would we?”
“Depends. Is my boss going to make a move on me?” 
“Hell yes I am. Come on,” he said. He grabbed your hand, leading you back to the small bedroom, kicking the door shut. You put your hands on his arms, sliding them up until you hit his vest. You smirked, running your hands down, finding a belt. You looked for a buckle or a snap but it seemed to be a part of the vest on second glance. He chuckled and slid your hands to his sides. “You have no idea how to take this off do you.”
“I don’t want to break it,” you said.
“Probably not a good idea.” He put his hands on either side of the vest and tugged, both sides opening up. “Velcro.”
“Oh,” you said, watching the sides of the vest come undone, Jensen lifting the vest and belt, his holster tied in with it, over his head and setting it on the ground beside you. Your hands went to his chest and while you saw the zipper fold, it ran straight up to the cowl around his neck. He tugged on that as well, the cowl coming off in a single piece and being added to the pile. “So that’s how you get in this thing.”
“More fun taking it off sometimes.” You pulled on the zipper, Jensen racing to rip off the gloves on his hands. “Wait-”
“You’re too slow,” you said, grabbing the suit and tugging it down. The sleeves were tucked into his gloves though and you smirked, Jensen giving you a warning glance before you pushed him back on the bed, effectively trapping his arms behind him.
“Y/N-” he said before you covered his mouth with your hand.
“I still owe you for that window treatment a few months back,” you said. You kicked off your shorts and finished pulling his suit down until you saw his compression shorts. One quick movement later both they and his boxer briefs were tugged down, his cock springing free. He was half hard and a few rough pumps had him standing tall. 
He bit his bottom lip when you straddled his hips and sunk down, bottoming out quickly. 
“You know moving up here while you were filming may just be the best decision I ever made.” You lifted off of him, leaving just the tip of his cock inside before you slammed down. He grunted and you leaned forward, planting your hands on either side of him, staring him in the eye. You gripped his hair and watched him give in, face soft and pliant, jaw dropping when you picked up a fast and harsh pace.
“Y/N,” he whined. You kissed his neck and sucked, his whole body tensing. “Slower. Slower. I won’t last.”
“Who said I want you to last? Don’t worry about getting me off. You can eat me out after you fill me up.” He whimpered as you worked on giving him a hickey, thighs already burning. Your walls were squeezing him hard, Jensen sucking in air when he finally came. He made a series of muffled groans before you finally slipped off of him and crawled upwards quickly. “Clean me up.”
He sighed happily when you knelt over him, one of your hands keeping your underwear pushed aside. His tongue dove in and out, shivers running down your spine while he worked you over. 
You couldn’t help the small shake in your body when he turned his attention to your clit. He wasn’t going easy on you, tongue swiping and assaulting the bundle of nerves. You felt the shockwave of sparks start in your feet and work up your legs when he switched to sucking and lapping at the same time.
“Jensen,” you moaned softly, coming hard, Jensen not letting off until you were already into another orgasm. You forced yourself away, sitting back against the wall, breathing hard. He licked his lips and grinned, pulling his arms out from behind himself, gloves free now. “Always such a fucking pushy bottom aren’t you. Can’t just come and ask me to ride me senseless can you?”
“Yeah but you like it,” he said, ripping off his other sleeve, scooting up the bed and taking a deep breath. “Oh and sweetheart? You can ride me senseless anytime. Anytime.”
“When we’re back home I’ll tie up you and make you scream all you want.”
“Here I was going to offer the same thing,” he said. You leaned down and kissed him, Jensen grabbing your waist and flipping you over to the other side of the bed, smirking and staring down at you. 
“Down Soldier Boy,” you teased. He bit at your bottom lip but pulled away after only a moment.
“Oh if you want to play with him be careful what you wish for,” he said. There was a loud knock on the trailer wall and you both sat up quickly.
“Jensen! There’s a little wrap party on back lot when you’re changed,” called a voice.
“Thanks! Be there in a minute!” he shouted. He ran a hand over his face, wide eyed when he touched his neck. “Y/N! How am I gonna explain a hickey!”
“With this,” you said. You stood up and grabbed the bandana tied to the strap of his backpack, twisting it and tying it around his neck, making sure it covered the fresh mark. “Ta da.”
“You’re lucky you’re smart. And cute,” he said. You kissed his cheek and he grinned. “Coming to the party?”
“Sure. Although I do have to ask, am I meeting former co-workers or these will be your co-workers next year?” you asked. 
“Why don’t you try to get the answer out of me back in the states. You win, I’ll tell you then and there if I’m back or not. You lose...you do that thing I like.” You narrowed your eyes and he stood up. “If you’re too afraid-”
“Oh it’s on Ackles,” you said. “You are so losing.”
“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”
_________
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mypoisonedvine · 4 years
Text
Animalistic | dark!Peter Parker x reader
summary: your friend Peter has a crush on you, everybody knows it, nobody does anything about it. except, of course, when he gains new powers and loses control of his affections.
word count: 3k
warnings: smut! (non con), degradation, creampie kink, choking, forced begging, peter overall being a huge asshole, everybody is 18+ but heavily implied to be high school seniors
a/n: okay so this was actually inspired by a scene from an episode of buffy (lol) so if you’re a fan and you recognize some of this dialogue then that’s why! I pretty much had to write this as soon as it ended because it was so hot jfc
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Peter had always acted slightly strange around you. Not all the time; he was one of your best friends, and 99% of the time you felt completely comfortable around him.
But that 1%... when you went to pool parties together, when you asked him to turn around while you changed, when you bumped into him at Homecoming last year and he looked at you in a way that was definitely more than friendly…
Everyone knew he had a crush on you, they told you constantly. It was pretty much an open secret at this point, you were pretty sure that he knew you knew, and so everyone just knew but never talked about it. Even though it was getting more awkward by the minute as a result, you didn’t see any reason for it to change.
What you didn’t know was that something had changed, something you could never understand fully but which had transformed your friend completely. He had gained new strength, a new power his body could barely handle; and with it, everything he needed to take what he had wanted and longed for but never before could’ve attained.
What you didn’t know was that, while you were cleaning up the AV club meeting room after school, when the building was nearly deserted and the sun was beginning to set, Peter had already found you, and watched you, and waited for the right moment to use his powers of stealth to sneak up behind you. He whispered your name, just past your shoulder, and you whipped around suddenly.
“Peter!” you yelped, stepping back slightly— but he took a step closer. When you stepped to the side to get past him, he stepped just a moment faster and blocked your way. It was like a waltz, but significantly more terrifying. Instantly you knew this was not the Peter you were used to. This was not your best friend, this was not the guy who had laughed with you and cried with you and been by your side all through high school. This was somebody else… and he was way too close for comfort.
“Where are you going?” he asked with a little smirk, dripping with the confidence that you weren’t going anywhere. When you tried to run, he grabbed you; when you tried to break free, he pushed you to the ground, pinning you by your wrists.
“Get off of me!” you cried.
“Is that really what you want?” he pressed. “‘Cause I think you want me. I think you didn’t want to admit it before, but you’re attracted to me— and it’s okay! It’s good. God, I’ve been waiting for so long for you to just accept it…” he trailed off as one hand released your wrist so it could brush across your face.
You swung your freed hand at him, landing a punch; when he raised his hands to his cheek, you managed to squirm out from under him and get to your feet. You hadn’t even taken a step towards the door yet when he had already gotten up and stood in your way, shrugging off the punch like it was nothing as he stalked towards you.
Remember what you learned in Tae Kwon Do, you repeated like a chant in your mind, holding your fists up in a blocking stance, stumbling slightly when you backed into a desk behind you. “I don’t wanna hurt you, Peter.”
He lunged forward and grabbed you, roughly slamming you against the wall as he pinned you again and you sobbed with terror. “Do you wanna hurt me now?” he taunted. “Go ahead and try, I like seeing you fight—” he leaned in closer, until you could feel his breath against your ear— “and knowing it’s fucking useless.”
“S-stop,” you whimpered, “Peter, please— this isn’t you.”
“But it is me, sweetheart,” he growled, smiling with teeth so much sharper than you remembered. “Did you really think I’d wait forever, crushing on you from the sidelines, watching you date all those douchebags who didn’t ever treat you right and never taking you for myself? I was just puny little Peter, your dumb geeky friend you thought you were too good for.”
“No!” you denied. “No, Peter, I never thought that.”
“You like ‘em mean, don’t you?” he chuckled, ignoring you completely. “That’s why you keep dating these guys who treat you like crap. You want mean, you want dangerous, you want strong and brutal and… animalistic. I can do that. I can do mean.”
“Peter, please don’t—”
He took a long, slow breath in through his nose, letting his eyes fall shut as he smiled with satisfaction. “You don’t need to be so scared,” he whispered, “but I kinda like it. The more I scare you, the better you smell.”
You opened your mouth to ask what the fuck he was talking about, but words didn’t come to you as he leaned in and attaching his lips to your neck, licking and sucking at your pulse point. A breathless whimper spilled out from between your lips as you shivered beneath him, feeling his smile of satisfaction on your skin.
He kicked your legs apart, slotting his body between them and laughing as he rocked his hips against yours; but he wasn’t laughing at that, he was laughing at the fear he must have smelled on you when you felt his hard cock between your legs. “Hmm, you’re thinking it’s a little big, right? You’re thinking ‘wait a second, how am I supposed to take all that?’ Don’t worry, sweetheart, you’re gonna love it. You’re gonna love coming all over this thick, aching cock…”
He purred— a low, deep sound that echoed through his chest and rattled your heart— as he started to pull your jacket off roughly, not finding your resistance much trouble at all. Your shirt, though, he ripped through like it was paper; you winced and looked away, unable to stomach the sight of him licking his lips as he tore through your bra, too.
“Look at these pretty tits,” he cooed, reaching up to grab them roughly, twisting the nipples and watching them harden under his ministrations. “You like that, huh? You like having your tits played with? Is this how your asshole exes did it, too?”
You shook your head, afraid that he would hurt you more if you didn’t answer at all.
The relief you experienced when he took his hands off of your chest was short-lived, as his touch drifted down to your jeans instead.
“No, Peter,” you gasped, your eyes shooting open as he glared back down at you while he unbuttoned and unzipped your fly. “Wait, wait, you don’t— you don’t have to do this.”
“I know. I want to,” he asserted as he roughly pulled your jeans— and panties— down to your ankles. You cried as he instantly dove in between your legs, licking you eagerly, holding you down with a vice-tight grip on your thighs. Every movement of his tongue shot jolts of pleasure up your body, making your head fall back against the wall. “Fuck,” he mumbled, his voice muffled by your sex in his mouth, “your pussy is fucking delicious, sweetheart.”
When you tried to push him away, all you managed to do was card your fingers through his hair, and he grinned before latching his lips onto your clit. You cried out, your hips bucking and quivering against his face.
“You gonna come, honey? You’re so close, I can taste it…”
“No,” you denied, “no— you’re wrong, I don't—”
“You like it,” he snarled. “You like how it feels when I fuck you with my tongue. See?” Just for emphasis, he had to thrust his tongue inside you, making the most filthy squelching noises as the wetness of his mouth collided with the wetness your body had produced for him so easily. “Just come,” he encouraged. “It’ll make you nice and tight for when I put my cock in you.”
You fought it with everything in you, but with the way he held you down and forced the barrage of sensation on you, it was impossible to avoid. Disturbingly, it was not in spite of the fear that you hit your peak; if anything, it actually made it stronger, mixing with your arousal to create a delicious sickness in your gut as the coil snapped and you gasped his name, falling apart atop his face as your thighs clamped down on his head against your will.
When his tongue broke away from you, pulling back with a come-slickened grin, you shuddered. “Was that so hard?” he faux-pouted. “I knew it. I knew you wanted me. See how good I can make you feel? Well, it’s only gonna get better.”
“W-wait,” you stammered as he stood up, but he paid no mind, grabbing you by the neck and forcing you to spin around and face the wall. He slapped your ass, hard, before you heard the sound of his belt being unbuckled. You didn’t see it, you never saw it, but you felt it as he pressed the hot, hard shape against you. You bit back a squeal as you felt how thick it was, tears striping your face as he laughed at you again: cruel, mocking, cold.
“Yeah, this cock’s gonna be inside you, sweetheart. Finally.”
“Don’t… please don’t…” you sighed weakly, just above a whisper.
He pulled your hips back roughly, forcing you to arch your back. You felt so exposed, almost like you were in display for him, as he teased your sensitive clit with the head of his cock. “You can keep begging if you want, it’s kinda cute.”
You knew you were past the point of stopping him, but you hoped you could at least reason with him slightly, or bargain with him in any way. “Please…” you whispered, “don’t make it hurt. Please just be gentle.”
He laughed. And he’d laughed so many times before, but this was different. This time was almost genuine, like it was actually funny to him. He laughed so hard that it sounded like he would lose his breath, until it all came to a sudden stop and he pressed his entire body against your back, growling into your ear: “No.”
He shoved his cock into you, all the way to the hilt, holding your hips still so he could bury himself in your heat. “Fuck!” he groaned, already pulling back and slamming into you brutally. “You’re so fucking tight, sweetheart.”
The praise made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, even with his warm breath against the skin there. His intrusion stung, made your insides burn with the force of his rough movements. Worst of all was how good it felt, against everything that made you want to hate it. His cock filled you better and reached deeper in you than anything ever had before, and your earlier orgasm made everything more sensitive. His balls were slapping against your clit with each thrust, and as lewd as it was, it was just as perfect as you shivered from every brief-yet-powerful touch.
Your sobs morphed to moans, exacerbated by his hands roughly grabbing your breasts again once his arms had wrapped around you.
“Oh, I know you love it so much,” he cooed with a taunting grin. “Tell me how good it feels.”
Before you’d even really gotten a chance to shake your head, he wrapped his hand tightly around your neck, cutting off your air as you opened your mouth in search of a breath you couldn’t reach.
“You get to breathe when you’re ready to be honest,” he explained gruffly, “with me and with yourself. Tell me,” he repeated, harsher than before, “how good it feels.”
As soon as he released his grip on your pulse, you cried out. “So good!” you sobbed. “So good, Peter, it f-feels so good…”
“Good enough to make you come?” he smirked. “I think so, with the way this needy little cunt is squeezing me so tight already. Are you close, baby? Fuck, I hope so, I wanna see you come for my cock.”
You breathed through your teeth, hoping you could will yourself not to, but at this point was it even worth the effort? Maybe giving into him really was the best thing— you’d already told him how good it felt, you’d already come from his mouth, you’d already pleaded weakly for him to be gentle only for him to fuck you with a vengeance. How much more dignity could you possibly lose?
“Beg me to let you come,” he instructed, “and then beg me to come inside you.”
Okay, so that’s a lot more dignity you had left to lose.
“N-no, Peter,” you whimpered, “I’m not— you can’t— I’m not on—”
You were cut off with a choke again, your cries sputtering into silence. “You should learn to do what you’re told,” he grunted. “I’ll keep choking you until you pass out, I don’t care. If you want to breathe, don’t take that air for granted. Beg.”
You shook your head against the grip on your neck, even with the spots of black dancing at the edge of your vision. Your hands clawed at his, uselessly fighting his impossible strength.
“Are you ready to beg yet, sweetheart?” he whispered. With hot tears filling your darkening eyes, you finally nodded. He let go and a gasp filled your lungs.
“Please, Peter,” you cried instantly, voice still hoarse and weak from the lack of air, “please— let me come. I wanna come for you, please…”
“That’s good,” he encouraged, “keep going.”
“Please!” you yelped, repeating it over and over until the word had lost all meaning and just because the noises of your despair as pleasure filled you past the point of no return. You were terrified of what would happen if you came without his permission, and worse, you were sure he would be able to tell since he could feel your walls pulsing and, apparently, smell your fear which was a horrifying thought.
“Okay, baby,” he groaned, pumping into you faster and harder until your hips were slamming into the wall in front of you painfully. “Go ahead and come for me.”
“Fuck!” you cried, your legs shaking as you tried to hold yourself up on wobbly knees, pleasure rocking your body ruthlessly and relentlessly. You heard him chuckle softly against your ear, mumbling his approval, but his words were just static in the pleasured haze of your mind, your body limp and drained of all fight as he used your body to chase his own high.
“Now beg me to come inside you,” he reminded you with a growl. “Beg me to fill up this little pussy with my come.”
“I can’t,” you breathed, barely audible.
“Oh, sweetheart, it’s not that hard. Are you too dumb to beg, little baby? Are you all stupid now that my cock’s in you?”
You whimpered but couldn’t muster words.
“All you can do is whine and cry like the dumb baby you are, hm? Then I don’t think you get to breathe anymore,” he frowned, disappointed as he tightened his hand around your neck again.
“Wait—” you pleaded with the last of your breath, feeling his grip hesitate. “Please,” you gasped, swallowing dryly to try to stomach your own words, “please come inside me… fill up my… my little pussy, with your come, please, Peter.”
He grinned, giving you a chaste kiss on the cheek. “Good job, sweetheart,” he praised, “you’re gonna get exactly what you’re asking for…”
You grimaced as you felt him start to flex and pulse inside you, warmth spreading between your legs and leaking out of you to drip down around his cock.
“Fuuuuuck,” he groaned slowly, your name leaving his lips in a sigh as he started to catch his breath.
And then it was just the two of you, alone in this empty classroom, sweaty and panting and sticky in the worst possible places.
The moment he pulled out of you and stepped back, his weight no longer holding you up against the wall, you crumpled to the floor. When he observed you lying there, he seemed proud of his work.
You sort of expected him to just leave you on the floor, but he was gentlemanly enough to help you up and even to pull your jeans up for you, dooming you to a fate of ruined panties as his come seeped from your abused entrance. Your shirt and bra were ruined, meaning you would have to put on your jacket and zip it up all the way to be able to get off of campus without some indecent exposure.
"This was fun," he announced, "we should do it again some time."
"Yeah, no thanks," you scoffed as you started to walk towards the door— but he stopped you by grabbing your arm, turning you to face him.
"You can go, for now," he hissed, "but I'm not anywhere near done with you. Understand?"
You nodded sheepishly, and he finally let go. Like you'd wanted to more than anything since he'd appeared behind you, you finally slipped out through the door. You tried not to think about what had just occurred. You tried not to think about his promise that it would happen again. You tried not to think about how he had made you come taster and harder than you ever had before.
Maybe he was right, and you really do like 'em mean after all.
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tom-holland-parker · 3 years
Text
Perfect Little Angel
Summary: After finally getting away from your mother and her annoying party guests, you and Tom decided to make this party a little more interesting
Pairing: Richkid!Tom x Richkid!reader
Warning: SMUT (oral, exhibitonism daddy kink) drinking
Word count: 1365 
Masterlist
You didn’t want to be here. Being used to put on a show for your mothers guest, A picture perfect family, you wanted to roll your eyes at the utter bullshit everyone believed. “Smile and be polite, don't embarrass me” Your mother whispered as she grabbed your arm, dragging you towards more guests.
“Sammy how’s the family?” Your mother said with a smile, you could tell it was fake but knew better than to say that. Mrs.Santos smiles, pulling your mother in for a hug, “Oh I just can’t keep track of those kids. You have it easy with just one.” Her gaze turned to you as you held out a hand, “Hi Mrs. Santos it’s nice to see you again” 
“Always a pleasure Y/N How have you been?” She said before quickly sipping her wine. Before you could answer your mother interrupted, “Oh y/n has been busy working hard in school”
You took a deep breath, trying not to make a scene. Your mother would never forgive you if you made people believe her life was anything less than perfect. You gave a polite smile as you excused yourself, pushing yourself through guests as you made your way inside the house. 
You let out a sigh of relief as you made your way to the basement, knowing it would be empty. Opening the small fridge behind the bar you reached for the bottle of vodka your father kept down here for when he had a rough day. You quickly grabbed a cup and began pouring yourself a drink.
“I always thought of you as a champagne girl” You jumped when you heard Tom’s sudden voice, turning around to see him leaning against the door frame, staring at you. You never really talked to Tom. You’d seen him at parties but never had the chance to introduce yourself due to your overbearing mother. It surprised you he was even here. 
“Sometimes you just need something a bit stronger” You said as you took a sip. Tom chuckled, making his way towards you, “I take it you’re not enjoying the party”
“I’d hardly call this a party,” You shrugged, “parties are actually fun.” Tom's jaw went tight as he smirked. His fingers trailing up your arm before fiddling with the strap of your dress. He silently stepped closer to you until he was inches away. You could smell the expensive cologne on his clothes and the liquor on his breath as he leaned down to whisper in your ear, “How about we make this more interesting” 
You bit your lip as you felt his lip against your neck, “Not here” You said pulling away, “Come with me” You chugged your drink, slamming the cup on the bar counter as you grabbed his hand, guiding him upstairs to your bedroom. 
The second your bedroom door was closed your lips were on his. Both kissing each other with a hunger. You felt his hands push you on the bed as he stood between your legs, “that’s an awfully lot of white for someone who isn’t so innocent” He joked as he took off his shirt, “You’re mother make you wear that?” 
You chuckled as you moved to unzip the dress, “She still believes I’m an innocent angel.” Tom smirked, pushing your hands away to pull your dress down, “If she could only see you now” 
A soft giggle left your lips as you sat up, your eyes quickly falling to the outline of his growing erection. You watched as he unbuckled his belt, throwing it across the room while you unzipped his pants. “This all for me” You smirked as you looked up, your hand palming him through his boxers
A low groan left his mouth as you pulled his hard cock out, your tongue instantly licking the length. “Fuck” he moaned as his fingers trailed through your hair. You wasted no time as you bobbed your head up and down, his tip hitting the back of your throat and making you gag. 
“Just like that” His grip on your hair tightened as he forced your head further down, “Come on you can take it” He moaned as your tongue rubbed his veiny cock while you sucked him. You felt him twitch in your mouth, a muffled moan escaping your throat as his grip on your hair tightened even more. 
You pulled away, your handing doing what your mouth couldn’t as you caught your breath, “open your mouth” Tom demanded. You didn’t question him as you opened your mouth sticking your tongue out as his cum flowed into your mouth. 
Before you could say anything you felt his hands push you down, Tom's lips connected with your neck as your hips bucked up into his. He smirked against your skin as he unhooked your bra, throwing it somewhere across the room, “Fuck Tom I need you” You whimpered as his fingers moved to pull your underwear down. 
“Call me Daddy” He demanded as his hand roughly smacked your ass. You let out a moan of pleasure and pain as he turned you around. With your head now pressed into the bed, he lined himself at your entrance, teasing you wet folds, “Fuck baby all wet for me” 
You subconsciously tried to squeeze your leg together but Tom just laughed as pulled your thighs apart, “Daddy Please” You whined. He chuckled before roughly thrusting into you. His grip on your hip was sure to leave bruises but you couldn’t care less, he was hitting all the spots to make you scream with pleasure. 
“You just want to get caught don't you?” You didn’t have to look up to know he was smirking, “Come on let them hear you, I want them all to know how loud I make you” 
His arms wrapped around you, picking you up and walking you towards the window. “Fuck Daddy” You moaned as he pushed you into your sheer curtains that did nothing to cover you. “Show them all how good I make you feel” He said as his thrust quickened, placing wet kisses along your neck as his hand rubbed your clit in circles. “Look down on them while I fuck you”
Your legs began to quiver as you felt your orgasm coming closer, “Fuck Im so close” 
“Cum for me” Tom moaned, his pace quickening as you felt yourself come undone. He followed shortly, your wall clenching around him sent him over the edge. You both caught your breath as you moved from the window to the bed, “so Daddy kink huh?” You smirked
He chuckled, “It sounds good coming from your mouth”
You rolled your eyes, “well that certainly was fun’ You joke as you stood up to grab your underwear
“You might want to change, unless you want your mom to see her perfect little angel with hickeys all over her neck” Tom said as he got dressed. “Oh no we can’t have that” You rolled your eyes as you grabbed a turtleneck. 
Tom chuckled wrapping his arms around you as he placed a kiss on your cheek, “I’ll see you downstairs”
He gave you another quick kiss before he left. You took your time getting dressed and cleaned up. Taking time to gain your composure before walking downstairs, “Oh there you are” You heard your mothers voice, “what happened to your dress?”
“I spilled juice on it” You lied as she grabbed your arm. “Whatever just be nice. I want you to meet these people” She said as she dragged you towards the group of guests, “Nikki this is my daughter I was telling you about” 
“Hi y/n I’m Nikki Holland” She said with a smile as she held out her hand. You politely shook it, “Hi Mrs. Holland it’s nice to meet you” 
“Oh and this is my son” she gestured to the boy walking towards her, You eye widened for a second when you realized it was Tom, “I don’t believe you’ve met each other yet” 
Tom smirked holding out his hand, “No I don’t think so. I’m Tom”
You chuckled as you shook his hand, “Hi Tom it’s nice to meet you”
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spencersawkward · 4 years
Note
i’m so happy ur on tumblr now!! i love between the lines so much, could you write a blurb or one shot about mgg and a younger co-star, but like very spicy if possible 🙃, idk i just love that scenario🥵.
i was literally about to write "omg i love this concept too!" and then i was like “well no fucking shit, sophi.” lol. YES i can 10/10 write you a one-shot with a similar scenario! also thank you for your kind words that was the first fic i ever wrote so it’s very near and dear to my heart!
summary: reader goes to a holiday party with her co-stars and best friend, Matthew... but all the fun happens in the dressing room.
content warnings: this one is quite dirty but i’m also proud of it lol. unprotected penetrative sex, oral (female receiving), degradation, use of the term “little girl,” creampie, age gap. dirty talk?
pairing: Fem!Reader/Matthew
word count: 4.7k
masterlist
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"no."
"what do you mean, 'no’?” Matthew laughs, looking between me and the mirror.
"I look like the Ghost of Christmas Past." I lift up the soft white tulle of the dress, watching it float back down to settle over my skin. he's got his eyebrows raised and there's a smirk on his lips like he's holding back a laugh. I resist the urge to reach around and hit him.
"would you rather wear that?" he points to the punch-stained gown that's now laying pathetically over the back of the vanity chair. I genuinely ponder the idea for a moment.
"honestly, the crime scene vibes might work well with the theme of our show."
"seriously, it's not bad, Y/N!" he insists, drawing my attention back to the mirror.
"you're just saying that because you're the one who spilled on me and you don't want people making fun of how clumsy you are." I cross my arms over my chest. he gives me a dubious expression in our reflection on the wall.
"do I seem like I care about that?" he challenges.
"I--" the truth is that no, Matthew is not the type. Matthew is the kind of person to flounder in front of anyone and proceed to crack a joke about himself. he's humble. but I kind of like when we talk like this, our back and forth.
after a year of working together on the same show, he and I have grown incredibly close. I'm friends with all my co-stars, but he and I just have the natural friendship chemistry that makes me want to spend all my time with him. when we're not on set, we're hanging out on his couch or ordering dinner or driving out of town to check out wacky sites around California. we just have fun. pure, clean, honest fun.
of course, in my dreams it isn't pure or honest. frankly, there's a lot of sordid scandal to what goes on in my head when he accidentally touches my arm or brushes his fingers over mine. the amount of times I have gone to cast parties trying to work up the nerve to kiss him are embarrassing. he's older and more experienced and, obviously, he has no interest in me.
but that doesn't matter.
the only reason I'm standing in a dressing room alone with him is because he knew someone on the crew who could hook me up with a replacement for the night. he left while I slipped out of the old one and came back in only after knocking and checking, like, twice to make sure I was decent. he's so respectful that it's almost like he's afraid of making me think the wrong thing-- which makes me feel absolutely stupid for my almost schoolgirl crush.
"come on, you look great. let's go enjoy the party."
"was this a dress one of the victims was wearing?" I ask with a laugh.
"probably. not like we carry a lot of gowns on set." he grabs my hand, makes my heart leap into my throat. he only does it to urge me along, but it still feels intimate as I follow him out of the room, tossing one more evaluative glance at myself in the mirror. I seem terrified.
we continue to do our rounds at the party, Matthew filling my glass of eggnog even though I hate it. I wince and take a sip while we talk to some of our co-stars.
"what's wrong with you?" Shemar chuckles at my expression.
"lost a bet."
"with whom?" he glances between Matthew and me, knowing damn well already from the mischievous grin on the former's face.
"I told you not to take it." Matthew says over the rim of his glass.
"if you mention it one more time, I'm gonna throw up eggnog all over your outfit." I threaten him, but we're both smiling. Shemar frowns.
"what was the bet?"
"you know David-- the guy I was telling you about?" I reply quickly, determined to give my side of the story. Shemar nods; I told him last week when David oh-so-chivalrously danced up on me at a club and asked me out. usually in those situations, guys just want a one-night stand, so I was impressed and agreed. "anyway, Matthew said if it turned out that he was a weirdo, he would get to pick my drinks for the next week whenever we go out."
"your drinks? that's specific."
"she's so picky!" Matthew teases me.
"leave me alone, you dick!" I elbow him and he dodges just in time.
"tell him why he was a weirdo." he grins. the glare I give could kill. but Shemar is waiting expectantly for me to share the information, so I sigh and set my jaw before telling the truth.
"he collects antique dental tools."
"what?" Shemar laughs disbelievingly. I throw my hands up.
"I don't fucking know. we went back to his apartment and he showed me his whole collection."
"you're attracted to weird people, Y/N." Matthew says. I raise my eyebrows and almost say something that dooms me. I hold my tongue, however, and turn back to Shemar with a reserved smile.
"anyway, how are you?"
...
the cast holiday party is actually pretty fun. I tend to leave these functions early in favor of my couch and some ice cream, but something about the bright colors and the smell of wintergreen in the air makes me want to linger in the studio.
I stuff myself with sugar cookies and Matthew mercifully lets me switch from eggnog to Sprite. normally, I'd drink at such an occasion, but I'm a messy drunk and this is one of my first real jobs as an actress. I don't want to even come close to jeopardizing that by breaking some expensive equipment or something.
my throat gets a little sore from all the talking I do-- Paget and I spend about half an hour horribly belting out Christmas carols at the baby grand piano they brought in. they originally had someone hired to play it, but the guy disappeared about an hour ago.
by the time it hits around ten pm, my limbs are tired. I thought people would be leaving (a lot of them have families), but the party is still very much raging when I start to wind down. maybe it's because I'm sober.
"hey." Matthew sidles up next to me as I sit at the piano bench with a slice of lime in my mouth. I like to suck the juice out of them; sour things are my favorite.
"hi." I pluck the fruit out and drop it back into my soda. he sits next to me, his cologne filling my senses with the kind of sensual warmth that it shouldn't be making me feel. he always smells so good.
"ladylike." he gestures to the movement.
"is that why you call me 'princess?'" I smirk, half-joking.
"once-- I called you that once!" he defends. it's not a lie. he used the nickname when he was mocking me for my somewhat selective food preferences. it was sarcastic, but I wish it wasn't. something about the way he said it in the moment made me blush.
"is there a reason you've come to grate my nerves?" I raise an eyebrow and he turns away from me as he bites back a smile. I pout. "what?"
"you're talking like a Jane Austen novel."
"what's wrong with Jane Austen?" I defend, skin heating up. his proximity is doing things to me that it shouldn't.
"nothing," he glances at me before moving his gaze to the ivory keys. "do you play?"
"elementary level, sure." I giggle. he runs his fingers over them, never pressing down hard enough to release a sound. I'm entranced by the delicate nature of his actions, the veins and the curve of his fingertips, the sheer width of his hand. I think about it too much for it to be healthy.
"show me." it's a direct order, one that doesn't feel directive but still ends with me placing both hands on the piano and wracking my brain for something to play. I decide on a piece that Paget and I were doing earlier, "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas."
I've never been quite good at piano, and the nearness of his body is like an anvil on my fingers, but I play anyway. and it feels good. his eyes are on me, drawn to my tracings over the instrument as they press and lift and glide.
"sing." I tell him.
"no!" he protests. I don't stop playing, only now getting into the thick of the tune.
"oh, come on. just the chorus..." I plead, turning my head to beg. "please?"
I bat my lashes playfully, fully intending it as a joke, but Matthew softens a bit. for a fraction of a second, I think he looks at my mouth. he turns his head back to the piano and lets out a quiet "here we are as in olden days... happy golden days of yore..."
"there you go!" I egg him on, and he starts to get more into it. his voice is absolutely off-key; he's no singer, and somehow that makes him even more endearing to me.
Matthew has always been this flawless, intimidating figure in my mind. even when we first met, I was certain that he was hiding something because everything else about him is so... perfect. he's funny, sweet, genuinely kind, handsomer than hell. it didn't make sense. but knowing that he can't carry a tune makes me feel a bit better. it humanizes his beauty.
while he sings, I can't help looking at him. his side profile is even more enchanting; the curve of his features meeting a smooth elegance in his jaw and cheek, especially when his mouth is open. he catches me smiling at him and returns it with his own gleeful face, now totally fine with singing like a fool in front of everyone. nobody is even really looking at us-- they're several drinks in and lost in their own universe of drunken laughter.
there's something kind of magical about that, I think. we're sober. when the song draws to a close, I lift my fingers off the keys and into my lap.
"you're quite the Pavarotti." I joke.
"the who?" he furrows his brow with a smile.
"he's a famous opera singer."
"oh," he laughs, "thanks, Mozart."
I twist my face up as I hide my smile. this is also part of the reason I could never tell Matthew how I feel; we just fit together too well. he almost always gets my references and I understand his, even though there's an age gap between us. he's an old soul with a youthful heart.
"how's your night going?" I ask him softly, changing the subject. he sets his hands on his lap, absent-mindedly toying with his fingers. it's not a nervous tendency at all. he does it whenever we're on set.
"as of right now? pretty damn good." he replies with a smile. I get warm again at the implication. he doesn't mean it like that, but god, do I wish he did.
"very smooth." I compliment appreciatively.
"how about you?"
"it was kind of boring, but then this rando sat next to me and started singing Christmas songs and it got a little better." I say flatly, grabbing my glass off the top of the piano and running my fingertip over the rim. he drops his head in a giggle.
"you're something else."
"insult?" I clarify.
"definitely a compliment."
"I like compliments."
"well, I wasn't lying before. you look really beautiful in that dress."
"the murder dress?" I glance down at it to hide the absolute wideness of my eyes at his words. he's completely flustering me and I'm starting to find it hard to breathe. he said I look beautiful. not "pretty," not "great"-- beautiful.
"yes, the murder dress." he gets a little pink in his cheeks, and that makes me want to explode on the spot.
"well, say goodbye to it because I'm gonna go change back into my plebeian clothes," I stand from the piano bench. "it's past my bedtime."
Matthew looks up at me with an unreadable expression and I feel my heart flutter in my chest. I hate leaving him. "do you wanna come with me? like-- walk with me?"
"sure." he nods, stands, and follows behind. I can feel his presence like a delightful reminder of the emotions surging in my stomach. we wind through the crowd of party-goers until we end up back in the dressing room, away from the party. it's quiet.
Matthew walks in with me, carrying our drinks in his hand, and he's about to stroll back out so I can change when I touch his arm. the door shuts automatically behind him.
"wait," I swallow quickly. "can you unzip me?"
"oh." Matthew looks at me, then at the glasses in his arms, then at the vanity. he sets them down and comes back quickly, his frame behind me while his fingertips locate the little piece at the top of my gown. my breath hitches in my throat when he brushes over my spine by accident, one nail dragging accidentally against my skin as the fabric slowly gives way. I don't know if he hears it-- it's nearly imperceptible-- but he definitely hesitates once he reaches the place where my back starts to curve into my ass. he pauses, doesn't breathe until he reaches the end of the zipper.
"there you go." he mutters. his voice is a little more hoarse than usual, and he clears his throat as he steps away. I know he's going to back out. he's going to back out of the room and wait for me to slip into nothing and I know, somehow, that he's going to be thinking about how I look in here with my clothes off. he's going to wish he stayed.
and I'm going to wish he'd done more than stayed.
before I can lose my nerve and allow the moment to be swallowed up by practicality, I shrug the straps of the dress down my shoulders and let gravity take over. it drops to the floor, leaving me in only my bra and panties. I can sense him behind me; he's silent for a moment.
"Matthew." I say, the name sitting on my tongue like a sugar cube. perfectly formed, slowly dissolving.
"y-yeah?" he stutters for the first time since I've met him.
"are you looking at my ass right now?" I ask, still turned around. the way he's frozen in place tells me that I'm right.
"yeah." he admits.
"you can touch it, if you want." I murmur softly. part of me doesn't think this is real, the way each sentence leaves my throat like it's been pre-planned. truly, I don't understand how my brain is moving so quickly.
"are you... sure?" he's hesitant, but even I can taste the longing.
"yes."
his hand smooths over my butt, softly at first like he's still not believing his own eyes, before moving back to grab it. he squeezes the flesh, and a low exhale from him tells me that he's excited.
"do you want more?" my voice barely carries. my head is almost foggy from how good it is to have his grip on my body, even in such a simple way. I can feel myself getting wet.
"how much more?" his lips brush over my shoulder and I get goosebumps. my mouth opens and closes for a moment, searching for the right words.
"however much you want."
it's flint and steel, the way he sparks. the air literally leaves my lungs when Matthew grabs my hips and spins me around to face him. my lips part as I peer up at him, at the lust that now darkens those hazel eyes and the way he holds mine. his touch is certain. he pulls our bodies together, tilts my chin up to kiss me.
it's passionate, strong, the kind of kiss that causes me to lean back a bit just to receive the full force of his desire. but I return the affection easily, moaning into his mouth. I've never been held the way that Matthew holds me. like I'm made of sugar glass, like he wants desperately to feel the soft give of my skin and make a home of me.
the heat between our bodies is almost overwhelming, and I sigh when he subtly pushes our hips together. his erection is against my stomach.
"fuck." I mutter when I pull away for air. Matthew doesn't stop his perfect movements, though, tugging my earlobe between his teeth and starting to leave love bites up my skin and over my shoulder. he chuckles against my throat. I shiver.
"you alright, little girl?" he asks.
"just--" I let out a moan at the sensation of his fingers exploring my bare waist. he reaches behind me to unclasp my bra. "just surprised."
"about?" he slides the straps down my shoulders and looks me in the eye. the lack of physical contact makes me whine.
"that you want me."
"how is that surprising?" he smiles, using one index finger to guide me to look at him.
"you don't seem like it."
Matthew raises his eyebrows as if I'm a crazy person. truly dumbstruck. "what?"
"you-- well, I don't know." I frown, but Matthew takes my hand and moves it over his torso until my palm is resting over the considerable bulge in his pants.
"is this enough proof?"
I struggle for words, sputtering. "yeah-- yeah, it is."
he bucks into my hand a little and I bite my lip, eyes moving up to meet his. something passes between us that I don't fully understand, but feel in my bones. I have never, in my life, wanted someone to fuck me as much as I want Matthew to fuck me right now. my jaw clenches.
"I need you." I tell him like this is the most relevant piece of information that will ever pass between us. he smirks.
"yeah?"
"mhmm."
"then lean against the wall and let me give you what you deserve." he orders. for a second, I try to think through what he means. then I look behind me at the open space and back up, him following me closely. his hands move up to cup my breasts, kneading and tweaking my nipples as he kisses my lips. the coolness against my back causes me to gasp, and he swallows the sound with his tongue before moving down my body.
he's torturously slow, taking one of my nipples into his mouth while he shrugs off his suit jacket. he switches to my other peak, one hand splayed over my stomach, and then proceeds southward with his lips. his kisses are delicate, open-mouthed, as they find their way to the waistband of my panties.
he hooks his fingers in them and looks up at me.
"can I eat you out, baby?" he asks. I bite my lip.
"please." like a beg.
"oh, you're polite tonight." he smirks, tugging the garment down my legs and discarding it somewhere in the room. I don't respond, and he doesn't seem to need me to, because he pushes one leg up for better access to my pussy. "let's see if it lasts."
my back curves off of the wall involuntarily when he holds the flat of his tongue against my clit suddenly, trying to roll my hips against his face. my fingers tangle in his hair, one leg resting over his shoulder.
he starts to flick at my clit. I lose grasp of my own language.
"Matthew, that feels so good, I--"
he attaches himself to my bundle of nerves, seemingly turned on by the sounds I'm making for him. he groans as he laps at the wetness between my legs, dipping into my folds and sucking the soul out of me. I whine and use his curls as leverage to gain more friction. he peers up at me.
"needy little girl." he mumbles against my pussy. I shove him back into me.
"make me cum, then." I beg. I can practically feel the devilish smirk on his face as he devours me like he'll never get enough. every twist and lick of his tongue is sending me to new places. I'm panting, chest heaving, while I grab my own tits and buck into his mouth.
he moans. my orgasm hits me like a wave, causing me to nearly thrash with pleasure as I cry out.
"Matthew, keep going, fuck yes!" I feel tears prick the back of my eyes, the culmination almost too much to bear as we hold contact. he stares into my fucking soul as he eats me out, and I want to stay like this forever. it's hard to support myself with my legs going weak, but I love it. the sensations are otherworldly. it's only when I'm about to collapse that I push his face away from me.
"I love your pussy." he tells me, licking his lips as he sets my legs down. I grin and let my head fall back against the wall.
"thanks."
"come here, princess." he takes hold of my hips and guides me over to the mirror, turning me so that he's standing behind my frame. the pet name causes me to smile.
"what?" I reference our reflection. he stares at me, reaching around to squeeze my tits.
"I wanna fuck you in the mirror." such a vulgar thing, said so beautifully. he kisses my cheek. "if that's okay with you."
"I don't care what position we do as long as you're fucking me." I breathe honestly. he chuckles and draws me towards him so his clothed boner is against my ass. I reach behind and work the button on his pants. he undoes the ones on his shirt. we're silent, him watching my naked body move like he's trying to memorize every detail.
when he's finally stripped, he lets me stroke his cock for a couple moments before pushing my upper back forward so I'm holding onto the sides of the mirror. I see him biting his lip as he lines himself up at my entrance.
"you ready?" he checks. I nod and he smiles at me once. pushing in, the smile melts into a jaw-dropped haze, eyes rolling into the back of his head. "Y/N..."
"it's so big." I try to breathe. he's so deep, I grip the mirror until my knuckles turn white. he's going to snap my body in two with the angle of his cock, filling me easily.
"tight little thing." he grunts as he holds himself inside. I can only watch in shock as I try to adjust to the sheer feeling of him. Matthew runs his hands over my sides, my ass, touching whatever he can. "how's that?"
I start to wiggle my hips and he groans at the feeling of my walls desperately swallowing him up. "Matthew, I need it."
"need what?" he thrusts into me and I have to fight a scream.
"need you."
"fuck... yes." he hisses out, sliding into me. "you're so wet I don't even need to try."
I bite my lip to withhold my sounds and he stares me in the eyes in the mirror as he starts to fuck me harder, building a pace with his hips. he growls a little if he hits certain angles, getting ruthless.
"so many times when I wanted to be inside you, princess..." he trails off. I start to play with my clit with one hand, using the other to stabilize myself with the mirror. the idea turns me on.
"when?"
"whenever you have attitude," he pants. "tonight, in that innocent fucking dress. making me wanna pound you like a little slut."
I make a high-pitched sound at the shudder of pleasure that jolts through my stomach at his words, wanting more. I've never heard him talk this way before.
"Matthew, shit--" I rub myself in circles, caught between watching his face and watching the way his hips slam into mine.
"you're begging to be fucked, you know that?"
"am I?" I smile sweetly in the mirror. we're in our own world, locked in a fantasy that I never want to leave. I can feel him in every corner of my body, sinking beneath my skin. he digs his nails into my ass.
"mhmm." he hums. I can feel the familiar weight in my stomach that indicates how close I'm getting. a knot that screams to be undone by his perfect length. I would do anything for more of this. I can taste everything good in the world on my tongue.
"I'm so close." I whine.
"I can tell," he studies my face in the mirror. "so pretty when you're breaking."
"oh--" I feel my thighs tense and my body pulses, the euphoria almost overwhelming. we move steadily, rhythmically, and he pushes my climax to new levels. "faster." I cry.
Matthew is quick to respond, gripping me closer while he plows into me like he's never going to have my body again. the sound of it is filthy, perfect, a mess. he groans at the sensation of my cunt pulsating around his cock.
"cum for me, princess." he moans, losing himself in the embrace of my core. the foggy stare in his eyes is like drowning in the ocean. I sink below, not caring at all about the consequences of him inside me. fuck working together; I need him. "where should I cum?"
"in me." I groan.
"beg." he commands easily, watching my face contort in pleasure. I could pretend to fight it, to give a little attitude, but I don't want to. I love begging for him.
"fill me up, Matthew. please." each word punctuated by the breathlessness of my voice. he gets even more ferocious with me, beating up my pussy until I'm sure he's going to leave me sore.
"right there, right there," he gasps, hitting the same spot that makes me go cross-eyed. "such a good little slut."
his cum shoots into me, deep and warm and erotically twisted, and I nearly collapse. it feels weird, but so good at the same time. full. he groans out my name and withdraws, quick to grab my shoulders and hold me up as I almost fall. I hadn't realized that most of my body weight was supported purely by his thrusts.
"whoa." he lets out a tired laugh, gentle in his touch. I'm heaving air into my lungs.
"sorry." I apologize, my body unstable.
"are you okay?" he seems genuinely concerned and I nod.
"yeah, I'm fine. just a little overwhelmed."
"here," he scoops me into his arms and brings me over to the old love seat in the dressing room, laying his jacket down before putting me on top of it. "can I get you something?"
"Sprite." I gesture to the glass on the vanity, and he smiles as he goes to get it. I gulp down whatever remains of it. "thanks."
"of course." he keeps glancing at my face and the red marks on my hips where he was clutching me like a lifeline. "I'm sorry."
"what?" I set the cup down. "don't ever be sorry for fucking me like that."
"no, I meant--" he laughs, but then he sees my playful expression and realizes that I'm genuinely alright. I think my legs were asleep.
"you're a saint." I tell him. he frowns and shakes his head bashfully. I'm already getting up and collecting my clothes. "or maybe what we just did prevents you from reaching sainthood. I don't know."
he places his hand on my lower back, kisses my forehead tenderly.
"seriously. you're okay?"
"I'm perfectly fine," I assure him. "but I would be better with a milkshake."
Matthew breaks into a slow grin, staring at me like I've done something miraculous.
"how are you so perfect?"
527 notes · View notes
devilslinks · 3 years
Text
# 𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗔 !
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— 𝗖𝗟𝗨𝗕 𝗙𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥 | 𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗔, 𝗧𝗢𝗣 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥.
wc; ( 3.2k )
synopsis; your best friend, raihan and you find yourselves eager to get intoxicated in one another's company. what better place than a night-club, dim lights, the overwhelmin' musk of the various alcoholic beverages; it's every guy pairs wet dream. that is until raihan gets shit-faced and excuses himself to the restroom while he pukes up his spiked guts. only to return to watch his sister take you balls deep, down her throat.
a/n: no brain, only nessa and her magical throat 🤝
warnings. MINORS DNI, NSFW CONTENT, family!au, raihan and nessa are siblings, club sex, intoxication, dirty talk, the name princess, deep throating, oral (m receiving), throat bulge, throat fucking, cum eating, flirty!nessa, jealous!raihan, exhibitionism, voyeurism.
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euphoria.
that was the only word that came mind when raihan and you got involved in recreational activities like you did. galar was a go big or go home type of region, and the two of you stayed true to that motto. the itchy, messily thrown together suits that matched all the way down to the type of socks you had on— the overexcessive amounts of booze, and the loud music which just barely drowned out the fits of laughter and discussion littered throughout the packed club. as soon as the doors opened, flooding your senses with nothing but the sickly sweet, aroma of sex and other intoxicating chemicals; that's how you knew the had night begun.
the two of you had been indulging, before you arrived on the scene— time seemed to blur together with head-spinning speeds or come to a full halt at the worst of moments. you don't even know how long you'd been locking eyes with the transparent shapes and manufactured blurbs dancing across the wall a good, twenty, maybe thirty feet adjacent to your seat at the drink counter. the weight of something too heavy for your alcohol infused mind to register until the bar hostess was practically brewing with irritation at your non-compliance with her attempts to have you regain control of your dazed state; sat lazily in-between your pointer finger and thumb, respectively.
hell you don't even remember waddling over to the bar with the company you had brought with you. but you didn't mind, the painfully challenging to recall memories mattered not when there was already another drink swirling around the rim of your shot-glass. raihan's shifty frame wiggling in and out of your peripherals as you tug the half-empty cup to the skin of your lips, craning your head back to knock down whatever liquid remained at the bottom. the delicious burn of toxins coated the lining of your throat, trails of steamy fluid leaving their mark as the mystery liquor made it way down your esophagus. whatever it was, it packed a punch and wasted no time forcing your lips to curve into a bitter sneer— eyebrows shadowing your face in a sour demeanor, as you used the hem of your suit sleeve to whisk away any spilt mixture that tarnished your cherry red lips.
you hardly have the chance to open your mouth for a second time to address the swaying body, huddled closer the counter than it is to your own. raihan is a total mess, loopsy, and feverishly hot skin to compliment— he's stained a harsh, sickly green against his natural melanin tone. doubling over in either pain or the sudden flow of too many drinks pooling in his system; whatever the emotion he was enduring was, he wasted not a second longer before hustling off into the large gathering of people. disappearing before his lips could slur the final word, missing from his dialect.
“hh..h fuck- my stomach is gonna explode, i'll catch you-” his gravely tone churning into the backdrop just as quickly as he initiated the conversation; the familiar hum of lyrics to a song you couldn't quite place your finger on replaced whatever words raihan had previously gargled out before dashing off towards the public restrooms.
your head feels like it weighs a metric ton this late into the night, threatening to tumble forward as if your neck had lost any and all of it's support. your eyelids pulling down roughly over your eyes like window shades before the sudden wave of loneliness hit you like a truck. fiddling with the collar of your dress-shirt was entertaining enough to fill the void that was the now empty stool, where your best friend once resided. but that quick fix subsided rather easily and the once overwhelming presence of boredom had returned to take a seat.
and then, so did she.
“shit, rai- back so soon? you alright?” your vision was foggy and adorned with blurry bits here and there— but it was still evident enough to make out that, whoever was indeed now in your friend's seat, was not the person you had chauffeured to the club with.
“damn, do i really look, that bad? it's me, y/n. the painfully better looking sibling. what did that idiot put in your drink?” the speech is followed by a laugh. it was a warm and inviting chuckle, one that seemed to relax every muscle in your liquor tense body the moment she parted her spit silken lips. you had been in her company earlier that evening, which made it a tad easier for your incoherent mindset to process it. but nevertheless it was hard not to distinguish who the women paying you a visit was at this point, even if you hadn't engaged with her previously; nessa was infamous for those enchanting looks. and in your dumbified state, those gorgeous navy locks tied together by aquamarine highlights were one of a kind and stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the room of normal presenting citizens. though your brain didn't want to pick-up any of your surroundings, you found it quite easy to fawn over her in that ebony dress and the way it hugged her curves in all the right places.
“fuck.. nes' when'd you get so.. so.” you couldn't even find the energy or hell, the words to cough up the remainder of the sentence, you were so taken aback by how stunning she was, even behind your bleary, drunk eyes. but nessa wasn't oblivious— you were sure she had picked up the hint you had layed out so bluntly, and the warm palm slowly inching up your clothed thigh secured that suspension for you.
“not even so much as a greeting? you didn't even buy me a drink first; asshole.”
her words are firm, yet so light hearted at the same time; but just enough to set your arousal over the edge. your headspace so vulnerable to teasing that you're certain she knew what she was doing to your conflicted mind and body. her sly fingers are enough to coax you to shuffle your bar-stool closer to her's— not a single word wriggled around your throat in response, instead the tangy after-tase of alcohol still heavy on your tongue distracted you and you were sure the whole bar could acknowledge your intoxicated musk.
her features held so many different emotions at once, as she pryed you for a reply— trying to tell you each one obscured behind that pretty face, way too quickly for you to decipher. her brows furrowed quizzically, one tilted slightly higher than the other as her half lidded doe-eyes stared up at you like prey at a final stand off with their predator; just humbly surrending their body to the circle of life.
“hah, you're one to.. talk, nes' just because 'm out of it- doesn't mean my numb skin can't feel your heavy hand toying with my waistband.” the both of you swiftly changed direction, heads leering down at nessa's free hand. you were infact correct, you observed as the woman swirled shapes into the expensive leather of your belt. pulling bits between her fingers now and then as she silently struggled with the metalic buckle. your groin swelled tightly, gripping your boxers closer to the fat bulge behind your suit pants; it would take an idiot not to take notice of the wrinkled fabric secured around your aching dick. her skin felt like a furnace, contrasting your slightly cooler temperature— but with her body pressing so desperately to yours, you were sure the warmth from her melted over onto your feverish flesh. the damp, sheen of anxious sweat made the fabric of your suit, dewy. sticking slightly against your hellish skin.
“mm, i guess i was wrong about the greeting part— hello there, you look happy to see me.” not a hint of shame obscured her voice, you're miserably watching nessa shift her weight as she now palms at the mound between your legs. you've seen countless renditions of this night loop in your head, but now that the scenario is a reality; it's agonizing to try to contain your primal urges, face to face. it's a chore not to profess all the vile things you wanna carry out with her, but she's already one step ahead. that glare is dangerous, it makes you feel like she's trying convey that the two of you are already in on something devious.
“let me take care of you.. y/n.”
“let me treat you, nessa.”
the both of you drawl out in what would be perfect unison if your mind wasn't foggy and running slower than usual. you had both finally voiced the elephant in the room, the one which was just positively dripping with thick tension up until this moment in time. you're still squirming under nessa's grip, she can feel you whine and pant everytime she gives your cock a light squeeze between her fingers and it's not long before the two of you are absent from the bar and clawing at one another's linen around the corner. closest to any vacant area within eye-shot. well, as vacant as a small room seperated from the bustling club-life can get.
did you think the night would come to a close with your friend's sister skillfully sucking the soul out of your sloppy cock? not in a million years, but you'd be damned if you didn't want it to end on any other note. nessa fell to her knees before the two of you even made it out of view— planting herself in-between your thighs like she was a trained professional; no flaws in her technique as her tongue slid obediently from her mouth and latches onto the moist fabric masking her mouth's destination. nessa's fingers are long and slender, as they snake up your hips and meet at the belt tangled around your waist. you can feel your cock pumping against the seams of your pants, the uncomfortable sensation making it appear as though you'd rip through the cloth if your cock was imprisoned a second longer.
with the head-splitting atmosphere of the club playlist stretching and stuffing your ears to the brim with fast pitched edm that made your skull pound and jitter. as well as the added hum of the gym leader whispering inaudible nothings against your bulge as she at last pushed your pants down, and past your ankles; material getting caught on the fancy design of your shoes. you felt like you were on the brink of death, but the enticing appeal of hooking up with your best friend's relative kept your iron-will alive long enough to rough it out and pass the irritation that came with being black-out drunk.
your storm of worries fizzled just as quickly as they sprung up, maybe it was the alcohol but you swear this girl had the hands of the divine; you were washed away into infatuation once more. nessa's teeth hike up your boxers until they meet the waistline, pulling down on the hem with a familiar aggressiveness as she relishes in the way your big dick pops to life and looms over her lustful features; all chubby 'n decorated with veins fer' her viewing pleasure.
“shit.. i'm gonna have so much fun with your cock. you wanna make your stupid slut already? my mouth is just asking for it.” the first piece is low and almost voiced as if it was meant for her ears only— but the second half is most definitely directed at you; as she tilts her head to plant a few delicate lovebites along the base of your shaft. fingers looping gracefully around your hilt as she admires the girth you carry.
“fuck..” you hiss, cock twitching violently as you pleaded with sinful eyes. she had barely started her reign over your dick before guttural groans and mewls slid past your lips. the sensation of her tiny tastebuds as they trailed over the little glob of pre-cum that drooled from your cockhead was insatiable. the sudden action sent your hips forward almost automatically, like they instinctively acted on impulse; it felt so right. merely a few inches breached past her lips but there was enough speed and prowess in your thrust to drag a surprise gag from the mouth attached to your dick.
impatience was on the horizon, the buzz from copious amounts of alcohol had knocked down a few pegs. you were now fully aware of the figure positioned at your feet like she was praying for a god, and soon you'd make her chant like she was being fucked by one as well. broad fingers clamped down, squishing both sides of her jaw while simultaneously easing your length deeper, and deeper down her gullet like your dick was her last meal on earth. you throw your head back before letting it fall forward against the wall, watching those desperate dark iris' pool with puddles of lust that seem to be neverending.
“come'on princess, you know how badly you want this-- you gonna let me ruin this pretty throat?” you thumb over her warm cheeks, eyes glossy and threatening to ruin the simple makeup she applied before she arrived. the uncomfortable stretch of her esophagus molding as your cock fills the empty gaps in her throat with every inch you have; is one that isn't unfamiliar to her. dragging your pulsating veins along the dip in her mouth, her tongue greedily laps up any and all of the skin yet to be consumed by her.
“jesus.. fuck, oh fuck. take it, nes'. shit.” your cock fully slips into her, heavy and swollen as it spears her right down the middle; eyes rolling back into her skull as it's just too fucking big. bigger than anything she's previously had inside of her, anyway. your core bleeds with spots of warmth as you take the time to bask in the way every individual wall in her mouth feels as it constricts you almost painfully. sucking you in before she slides you back out of her throat once more; repeating the tedious cylce that has the two of you in a heated frenzy.
despite all the sudden and erratic pain, nessa bobs her head in sync, coaxing you to go as deep as humanly possible. rocking your hips as they snap against her face with every good fuck you give her— watching yourself grow rapidly from the outside of her neck, the moist skin now holding a curved bump near the middle. nessa takes the initiative. removing a hand from one of your thighs, she uses four fingers to lightly push and stroke the bulge; almost as if she was jerking you off while you ravaged her inards.
she knew exactly what she was doing, and it had you riled the fuck up.
you picked up the pace, delirious from the amount of stimulation your precious cock was receiving. with your erection fully encased by her face and your dick bouncing off the gummy walls of her gullet, you could tell her throat was already forming bruises with a throbbing soreness to compliment, time come the morning. your rough hands dig behind the back of her head, hands feeling lost amongst her ocean of hair— beautiful locks just perfect for pulling. you yank her face forward, lowering yours as well to not only established authority but to get your point across to the cockdrunk slut mindlessly slobbering all over your messy shaft.
“mfph-- please, cum.. i want- all!” you can just barely string together what sounds like whines for more— i guess she can sense just how close the knot in your stomach is to bursting because she grips the back of your thighs and tugs them forward with whatever coherent muscle strength she has remaining. just in time for the tension in your core to coil tighter and tighter, the lowerhalf of your body trembling with all the signs of an incoming orgasm.
“does my dumb little girl wanna be fucked, that, bad? hah, fuck nes' what would your brother think?” you mock so cruelly, totally disregarding the fact that there is a slim possibility, raihan is searching for the lost pair. and it just so happens that nessa's poor little brother had been observing for a little over half the engagement. fist wrapped around his pathetic cock, suit collar pulled between his fangs, ocean blue eyes fixated on you; your hip strength, the way you rolled and plunged balls deep into his sibling. his body felt so empty, only riding his high off the two of yours', praying he'd finish before you caught him lurking like a sleaze. it was so unfair, why did nessa get to taste your sultry cock before he did?
you can feel the bass reverberate in nessa's throat as her lips nip at your hilt, impatiently trying to babble out a response adequate enough to your liking. her mind is flying, no correct sense of direction as it attempts to form a reply, but all that breaks past the barrier is a few pitiful mewls. her nose is burried in your pubes and she's lost all feeling in her throat, only motivating her to show off the lump on her neck even more. you watch as your length disappears into the depths of her mouth for the hundredth time that night, hands pushing down the lacy strap of her dress in a last ditch effort to find something other than her hair to latch onto for support. her scalp is on fire and she can only accept the stinging sensation as the roughness of your thrusts increase in magnitude.
the club is filled to the brim with lewd moans and needy pants; those of which included raihan's. every inch of her esophagus is being used— you happily ram your cock down her throat a few more times, your balls were quivering wildly. contracting and spasming, boiling with a fat wad of potent seed all ready to venture inside of her. nessa squeals, feeling a thick bulge travel up the length of your cock, up to the head and straight on her tongue; some spurts flowing down her neck while the rest collected in her mouth. painting her insides a translucent white that would surely stain.
just for good measure, nessa deep throats your empty dick with a few simple strokes; a white, sticky ring forming around the base of your shaft after she detached from your dick. a lewd pop, followed by a line of stringy saliva connected her lips to your bottomed out cock before she ruined the trail by letting her tongue lull from behind her teeth. letting you get a nice overhead view of her empty mouth, watching as the last bits of your load traveled down her throat and out of sight for good.
“god.. such a g'girl. you sucked on my cock so nicely, princess. wasn't that a way to end the night?” a blissed out smile creeps over your face, marveling in the aftermath you caused. you gave the right side of her face a few taps from your cock— dried tears and sloppy makeup tainting her cheeks. cum dripping from the corners of her mouth, as a cocktail of her own spit and your semen coats the back of her throat. it was all one big look of;
euphoria.
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bookishdream · 3 years
Note
Could you do a Kaz x reader where the reader have to "cheat on him" (not in relationship but like she goes to another gang) because someone's threatening her and when he discovers she was just trying to protect him and the gang she dies
A/N: Hi! Thank you so much for a request, I've been wanting to write some angst for a really long time! I hope it is as hurtful as you wished, enjoy xx
TW: angst, blood, killing
kaz brekker x reader
Your hands were sweaty and shaking. You crossed your arms on your chest in order to hide that. You didn’t like being threatened, especially by some amateurs. But it wasn’t a threat against you, it was against your family in Novyi Ziem. You had to use your whole will power to not kill them right there and then.
“Why do you think I’d do anything you want me to?” you asked snapping your gaze between a woman and a man in front of you. “You don’t know anything about me and my family you assume I have.”
“Oh, y/n, but we know everything. For instance, your little brother is playing as we talking on your vast field, your parents are watching him with so much love in their eyes,” woman with blonde hair spoke first, describing the scene so vividly that you almost showed an emotion on your face. “maybe they have already forgotten about you? Maybe your mother is pregnant so they could fill a blank you left in their home.”
“Shut up, you think you’re so smart, aren’t you?” you snapped, face blank and mind filling with memories from times when you were as young as your brother was then, playing on the exact same field. “I will never betray Kaz, and you should know that.”
“Oh sweetie,” the guy beside walked closer to you, you made a step, in order to make some distance between you and them. “we’re not asking you to betray him, we’re asking you to leave this silly gang and join us, Pekka Rollins would be really happy if you did.”
“You two are much denser than I thought, if you think I want to make him happy.”
“You don’t have a choice.” Blonde said, making you shiver. “We have someone who would be pleased to kill this little family of yours. I don’t think you want them dead, even though they think you are, in fact, dead.”
You started to think about that. Crows were your friends and you love them. Inej and Nina always found various ways to make you cheerful when your day wasn’t the best, Jesper taught you how to use a pistol and flirted with you like his life depended on it. Wylan was like a sun in rainy days, even if you loved them, you also loved this boy and his stupid jokes. Matthias was funny to tease, he always was saying how awful you and the girls were, but you could also see this little twitch of his lip corner when he tried to suppress his laugh. And there was Kaz, your beginning wasn’t the pleasant one, you nearly killed him when you saw him for the first time, and in revenge he left you in the Barrel for the whole night, all alone. But after that, you started falling for him, and you fell hard. You couldn’t exactly point out when that happened, but you were sure you’d anything to save him from himself. He had tough personality, he cared only for money and how he could invest it to get the whole city only for himself. But he let you do that with him, barley sleeping and when you did it was in the same bed. Arm-length gap but you always were less exhausted than when you were sleeping in your own bed. You loved him and the rest of the Crows, but you loved your family more. And you knew what you had to do.
“Bitch.” You murmured. “Fine, whatever. Just stay the hell out of my family. And the gang.”
“We knew you’d make a right decision. Pekka will send money to Per Haskell in order to buy your contract. You won’t regret that.”
“I already do.”
After that day, you were about to start living with your new gang, family, like Pekka had said to you the previous day, he’d also told you to not worry about your parents and brother, that they were safe as long as you were working with him, willingly.
You wouldn’t call this willingly, but you guessed it was enough to prevent your family from any harm coming from Pekka and his stupid gang. You hated being here, you missed the Crow Club, late night talks with Inej and Nina, and helping Kaz with buying new ships. You wanted nothing more than to escape, but you couldn’t. Kaz and Crows could fight and kill, whereas your family was vulnerable, they couldn’t even hurt a fly. You spent the whole evening in your empty room. Window with grids making you shiver, you felt like a prisoner you were.
“We have a job for you.” The blonde girl who captured you came in, like it was her cell, not yours. “Behave and perhaps we’ll get rid of those grids.”
You wanted to punch her, you didn’t even know her name, it wasn’t even relevant, your hand was itching. You took a long, calming breath and looked at her, frowning. “I thought it was another week until you’d trust me enough to even open my window.”
“You’ve been here for two weeks. Plans have changed, we need you right now, so cut the attitude and come with me.”
You rolled your eyes and went after her, going up the stairs and leaving the place Pekka’s gang lived. You took another deep breath, smelling the awful scent of Ketterdam, smoke and money as Kaz used to say. Gods, you missed him.
“Where are we going?” you asked, falling into step with the girl, there were only the two of you, you assumed the rest will be somewhere where you were going. “What’s the job?”
“Can’t you just shut up? You’ll know when we’re there.”
You really wanted to punch her, still you said nothing, you wouldn’t get anything from her. It was dark on the city’s streets, buildings high enough to cover the moon, didn’t let its shine to light up the roads. You were annoyed and cold, your hair was swaying with the wind, goose bumps poking on your skin.
“Here.” Blonde said, handing you a pistol. “If you kill someone from ours, you’re dead before you take your last breath.”
You rolled your eyes, hiding your gun into the pocket of a coat you had. The metal was cold, making your hands even colder than they were before. Now when you had a real gun, not only your knife, perhaps you’d be able to escape. But where would you go? You were sure Kaz knew where you were, perhaps thinking you betrayed him, that thought only made you feel guilty in your guts, he trusted you and you chose people who you hadn’t seen for years over him. You had to escape, the cost didn’t matter.
When you came to the place, you saw a guy from Pekka’s gang and Kaz. Both of them were talking, but members of both groups had their guns or blades taken out. The Dirtyhands had his black coat, and his walking stick, as always. Jesper also was beside him, hands on his gun belt, ready to take them out and fire. You were more than sure that Inej was also there, somewhere on the roof or in the shadows, waiting and prepared to fight.
“We have men everywhere, two on roofs, one behind the bridge. All of them have guns pointed on you and your previous friends. I hope you know what that means.” The girl said, eyeing you. You only nodded, worrying too much about the Crows to even snap at her. “Good, now go and wait for a signal.”
You did as you were told, you hid somewhere behind a building, trying to recall every piece of information you gathered while snooping on guards or using the fact that they didn’t always close your doors. You had to find someone and tell them, you couldn’t waste any more time.
You poked your head out, searching for Matthias or Wylan. You doubted Nina would be here, since she was still working in the pleasure house. You were sure Wylan was there with his explosion ready to, well, explode. You cursed under your breath, when you couldn’t spot any of them, panic getting out of you with frustration. Someone from the Dime Lions would notice you’re not somewhere where they could spot you.
You crossed the narrow lane, as you noticed Matthias, you whistled hoping he would look into your direction. He turned his head and spotted you, anger on his face visible even in the dark. You cringed, knowing you’d get beaten up.
“You’ve got some nerve,” He said, his voice low. “after you started working with them, you have the audacity to come here.”
“Listen, I didn’t have a choice,” your voice so close to start begging him for forgiveness. “It was about my family.”
He looked at you wordlessly, confusion painting his face. Of course, he didn’t know you had a family, why would he. After a second, the ire came again. “You’re lying.”
“I'm not, I want to help you.”
“Oh, so now you did that to help us?”
“Matthias, I’m begging you, just let me tell you what I learnt.” You pleaded, your voice small. “Pekka wants to kill you as you’re standing, he has those new guns that can shoot you from really long distance.”
“What?” he looked alarmed, “We have to tell Kaz. Come.”
You let out a breath, it wasn’t the best look he sent you, but at least he didn’t leave you here. You told him everything you knew, he listened but his face still didn’t have pleasant expression.
You took out your gun, making your way behind the dumpster, hiding in shadows. You tried to calm your nerves, but the adrenaline had already kicked in. Matthias and you startled when you heard a shot, then another. You sent yourselves a knowing look, taking a step closer to the place where Kaz and the other guy were talking. Jesper had his guns out and Kaz was looking at the boy in front of him with disgust. You saw one of the Dregs were bleeding, you lifted your gun, targeting the closest one from the Dime Lions and fired. The bullet hit the girl in her stomach, making her stumble and fall to the ground. You hid yourself behind the wall and waited. Matthias sent you a look and you only lifted your arms, not knowing what to said.
After that, guns started firing, screams were everywhere. You saw the blonde girl that came here with you, standing with her pistol, aiming Kaz. You shot without looking, trying to hit her in an arm, you heard her scream and saw how the gun was laying on a ground. You looked up and saw that Kaz was looking at you, his face blank and unreadable. Jesper beside him, shooting people and screaming at Wylan to explode. The sound of explosion came from the roof, exactly where members of Lions were, you let out a shaky breath and made a step into the fight. Matthias fighting with his fists, slowly making his way toward Kaz, you tried to help him clear the path by shooting few people either in their heads or legs.
Your hands were tired, your head pounding but you were fighting hard, you had to make this in order to confess Kaz the whole truth. When you were close to him, he locked his eyes into yours.
“We have to talk.” You told him, lowering your tone. “Please.”
“This is not the best time to talk, y/n” the way he said your name made you shivered. It wasn’t an intimate way, it was with so much poison in only one word. “Why aren’t you fighting with your new gang?”
“Kaz, please, I’m trying to help.” You voiced, your eyes burning with sweat that slowly dripped from your forehead.
“Whatever.” He smacked an opponent with his cane, you only heard the sound of cracked bone and a loud thud when the enemy fell to the ground.
You two were fighting as you had before Pekka came into your life. Kaz understood you without any words, knew exactly where he should cover you because you couldn’t. Your movements were precise, keeping people away from Kaz’s vulnerable leg. You were fighting in a harmony, you kept your focus on people you had to kill, you shot them without any hesitation. When your bullets ended, you took out your knife and started stabbing everyone who wanted to stab you.
“I– “you paused, feeling a pain in your abdomen. You looked at Kaz, but he was looking at your lower stomach, you placed your gaze there and you saw blood. A lot of blood, then you felt pain, you stumbled, but Kaz placed his hand on your waist, slowly letting you fall on the ground. Your whole stomach was on fire, slowly burning you with its flame.
“Don’t you even dare dying here, messing my coat with your blood” he said, caressing your cheek. You chuckled, tasting blood on your tongue. “Don’t even think about it, y/n.”
“I’m–, please forgive me, Kaz” you murmured, hoped your words were understandable. “I was trying to save my family, but you’re my family too.”
“Y/n, I forgive you, but I’m begging you, don’t close your eyes” his voice filled with regret, eyes burning with anger, but you knew it wasn’t toward you. “Keep your eyes open.” He yelled at someone, but you couldn’t understand either it was Jesper or Matthias.
“Tell them I love them” you started to give up, your eyelids slowly closing. “I love you, Kaz Brekker.”
“Y/n, please don’t leave me” he tried to keep his voice from cracking, but he failed.
But you didn’t hear that, you had your eyes closed, hand that was laying on your stomach, now laying on the ground. He carefully removed his arm and got up. He spotted a blonde girl, smirking and looking at him, she slowly lifted her pistol, mockingly swaying it. She winked at him and still with a smirk, she left. Kaz made a promise he would kill her, he would do it for him. And for you.
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stxrshxpxd · 4 years
Text
“you will always annoy me” x 90s!damon
Pairing: 90s damon albarn x reader
Word count: 1.872
Warnings: smut
Requested by anon x
* * *
“Why can you not stand to be around me for more than two minutes?”
Damon’s voice broke through the thick air and loud music as he tried to catch up with my determined steps. A short-lived vague conversation with a few nasty remarks had blossomed between us in the middle of this party, and my turning my heel had sparked a ridiculous chase scene throughout the house. I should’ve seen it coming though, Damon was never one to shy away from an argument.
“I know you don’t think I’m good enough for Justine-”
“I think you’re stubborn and annoying-”
“Justine is stubborn too. She seems to be able to take me,” Damon had regressed back to his calm voice again. We had found ourselves standing still in a quieter corner of the party.
“But her stubbornness is charming,” I argued, desperately wanting his poorly lit annoying smirk wiped off his face. He chuckled shortly and looked down.
“Sounds like someone has a crush on my girlfriend,” he teased while looking up at me again, the annoying smirk still there.
“Oh please, what do you know about having a crush? You’re too in love with yourself,” I spat. The alcohol was getting to me a bit and my words sounded harsher when they left my mouth than they had in my head.
“You’re not denying it-” Damon singsonged and I rolled my eyes excessively.
“I do not have a crush on my best friend,” I stated as clearly as the alcohol in my system would allow, laughing slightly at the absurdity of his claim.
“Then do you have a crush on me? It must be one of us. Why else do you care so much about our relationship?”
It was hard to tell from the dark corner we were standing in but he had narrowed his eyes and deepened his smirk. He too was drunk but he still knew his way around his words and he was not ready to back down from our dispute.
“God, do you hear yourself?” I raised my voice and laughed dryly as I pulled my hands through my hair. “You’re not as pretty as all those little girls make you think you are.”
Damon stepped closer to me.
“Really?” he asked.
“Really.”
“Really?” he asked again in a quieter voice and stepped in even closer. My blood was boiling for various reasons and his smirk was still staring at me. I knew I could never admit it even to myself but I was the one to pull him in by the cheeks and place a harsh kiss on his lips. A fraction of a moment passed of Damon pulling away and staring at me, but then he continued the kiss and his tongue met mine. He tasted of that awful beer he had been drinking all night and the cigarette he still held between his fingers, the butt of it pressing into my cheek as he held my face.
Damon forced me further into the corner until my back hit the wall and I gasped at the pressure of his body pressing against mine. His chest and shoulders had never looked as broad as they felt now when my hands were blindly exploring his body. I let them move up to his head again and firmly grab his thick hair in my fists.
Damon kept pushing me a bit further along the wall until we found ourselves stumbling into a dark room. Before I knew it I was the one to push him against the closed door behind him, but he wasn’t having any of it. He flipped me around and caught my wrists in his hands, pinning them to the door.
“You’re sure you don’t think I’m pretty?” he teased as I breathed heavily through my nose with a tightened jaw.
“I’m not attracted to you,” I snapped at him and made a weak attempt to wriggle out of his grip when really I didn’t want him to let go of me. It was merely an act to keep up my facade. I couldn’t admit to him, much less myself, that I was a bit weak in the knees because of his wet kisses.
“Sure, darling. Keep telling yourself that,” he mumbled cockily as his hands slid down my side and he began to crouch down until his lips were on my stomach. As attractive as he was, his cockiness still triggered an eye roll from me.
He pushed my top up and traced sloppy kisses up my stomach until he was standing straight again and he had pulled my top over my head.
“Well, I’ll be the first to admit, I’m attracted to you.”
No lights were on in the room but the moonlight coming in through the massive windows laid across my half naked body. Damon’s eyes were practically glued to my chest and my breasts that were only covered in a thin mesh bra. I couldn’t decide if the spellbound look on his face made me want to punch him or kiss him.
“Good for you,” I sneered and pushed my hand through his fringe. He laughed and rolled his eyes before his hands were tightly hugging my waist and his lips were back on mine again.
He had managed to hold onto his almost finished cigarette with such poise all this time, and now he made me watch him take a long inhale with the cig between his lips. This was completely and utterly a performance on his part, like almost everything he did was. It made me want to roll my eyes again but I stopped myself, deciding to match his cocky act. Stealing the cigarette from him, I too took a long inhale, determined to keep the eye contact alive.
It wasn’t long until the cigarette butt was dropped and Damon crushed it into the floor with his sneaker. Then his t-shirt was on the floor as well and our hands were drawn to each others’ belts. I had almost forgotten how annoying Damon was by the time our jeans were on the floor, but then that smug voice poured out of his mouth again.
“Are you sure you don’t fancy me, even a little bit?” he teased because now his hand had found the outside of my underwear and particularly the damp spot in them. I swallowed a quiet moan and flexed my jaw for a moment.
“I guess you just know what you’re doing.”
I softly pressed my palms against his lower stomach, feeling it expand slightly with every breath of his.
“I guess our bodies are compatible,” Damon countered and raised a brow.
I let my fingers slide down to hook into his underwear and pull him in. A harsh kiss was the only thing I could think of to shut his smug self up. In response he swiftly pushed my underwear to the side and dug his fingers into the source of that wet spot. Now that swallowed moan made its way back up my throat and traveled from my lips to Damon’s.
“And I thought you sounded sexy when you were annoyed,” Damon said, amazed by my pleasured sounds. I grabbed the back of his head and sealed our lips even tighter to keep him quiet, but talking into our kiss myself.
“I’m still annoyed,” I insisted as my hands moved down to his crotch. His body hadn’t been pressing against mine for a while and I found myself in shock at how hard he had grown just from fingering and kissing me. I removed the soft fabric that seperated my hand from his erection and broke our kiss to look down on our bodies. He kept quiet for a moment and let me rest my forehead against the bridge of his nose as I gazed down.
He looked better than he ever had standing in the intense moonlight. Soft shadows sprawled across his body and matched the faint groans falling from his mouth as I gently caressed his cock, rubbing his tip with my thumb.
I had completely lost myself in his body and in a strange way had almost forgotten it was Damon I was with, until he tilted my head up and resumed eye contact. He smirked at my obvious surrender but said nothing, and then he picked my right leg up toward his hip. I bucked mine forward a bit and felt him flick his tip across my clit a few times. I exhaled sharply and moaned loudly, pressing my forehead against his, as he thrusted into me.
“I never dreamed you’d feel this good,” Damon breathed, squeezing my thigh tighter with his left hand and putting his right one next to my face, flush with the surface of the door.
“You’ve dreamed about me?” I teased and held his face gently.
“I know you’ve dreamed about me too, love,” he shot back at me and teamed it with a harder thrust. I decided to ignore his accusation and closed my eyes tightly, as he made it hard to keep them open.
My hands fell to Damon’s warm shoulders and I clawed my nails into his skin, earning another low growl from him. Just about everything inside me was tingling and fluttering and clenching and twitching as he continuously hit a perfect spot inside me.
“Am I as good as you dreamed?” Damon picked the subject back up and smirked incessantly.
“I have never given it a single thought.”
“So, you’re pleasantly surprised,” he decided for me and I couldn’t disagree. All I could do, in fact, was dig my nails further into his skin and allow my whimpers to escape me as they pleased.
“I will be if you keep doing that,” I sighed, referring to the perfect pace and force he had conjured up. To my surprise he didn’t change a thing about what he was doing to me. I had never pegged him for a good listener or one to obey orders very well. With his large cock inside me and his hot breaths on my face I was almost beginning to warm up to Damon.
“Fuck.. Damon,” I moaned and let my face bury into the crook of his neck as my orgasm flooded my body and mind for a couple long seconds.
Now my knees were undoubtedly weak, I realised when Damon eventually pulled out and let go of my thigh. I surrendered to his demanding hand and knelt down immediately. That dominant hand held the top of my head and I let my tongue hang out as he pressed his sticky tip against it.
“Oh my god,” Damon exhaled, letting his head fall back momentarily, and he orgasmed all over my tongue. I felt it begin to slide down my throat and just as he looked down at me again I swallowed. It had gotten lost somewhere in the middle of the act but the performance aspect was back and so was my cocky smirk.
“I knew you fancied me, darling,” Damon said proudly and helped me up off the floor.
“You will always annoy me,” I denied with a twinkle in my eye and I placed a gentle but wet kiss on his jaw.
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