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#what I love is that they all have different noses and hair color
amoritasart · 5 months
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William as the lost Wittebane brother AU 🤪 some doodles
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William is the youngest. He is very clingy and always wants to impress his big brothers, specially Philip who occasionally remembers he hates him for taking his spot as the baby.™️
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mercurymacaroons · 2 months
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please god just take it
long time no post, sorry for the hiatus but lmao my rl job threw me through the ringer and then whoops!!!!!! didnt draw for 2+ years. im in a new job now and found out that my settings for clip were fucked up so i did some messing around and now i am having a blast so yeehaw.
this was supposed to be a nose sketch then it somehow turned into the smtv nahobino idk what happened. for a while he looked like chad from accounting but i think i salvaged it kinda maybe. def need to do some more studies on asian people bc it is def not right but i didnt really use any references so thats on me. i dont think im going to finish this, hence the ss, but maybe i will one day. i just wanted to post something since ive started drawing again and should probably dust this blog off at some point
anywho, morbid ordeal of being known aside - if any of yall are still here, do you wanna see just like sketches like this? maybe not this detailed bc that damn nose took too damn long, but i think i could do sketches and thumbnails
#digital art#sketch#look i know i already waxed poetic in my read more but this is my blog lmao#and therefore my diary that you all can read#its so nice to draw again ngl#idk where all the energy went but at least theres this#found out i love drawing noses#on a prev sketch dump that i may or may not post also found out i love drawing ears#still cannot draw hands#maybe ill tackle that after i figure out hair bc arguably#the hair sucks#its not as nicely rendered as my lovingly drawn nose#also can i just say smtv and smtvv did NOT need to put all that detail in#its nice in game and i love the glowing bits but its ass to draw and my heart goes out to every cosplayer#almost as bad as genshin designs idk how those go together and im scared of their power#you dont need all that#like the new form?????????? that mask is the bane of my existance#all that detail i went insane trying to figure it out#maybe bc its hot as hell and i hate going outside ill do some studies and post them#be honest would yall wanna see that#itll probably be fanart studies bc i have brainrot but i do need to practice different angles and also hands maybe feet#should also learn how to color bc i also hate coloring#like i can do it but shading is beyond me once we get colors#everything feels too bright but also i like the too bright you know??#if i could get away with graphite forever i think id die happy#yadda yadda i know its my art and i can do what i please but bestie the algorithm#not that i should post for the algorithm i should post/draw for myself but the validation of number go up (also working to overcome this)#sorry for all the yapping#i am king of the yappers expect my long ass commentary on everything i post
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anantaru · 1 year
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— drunk genshin boys
including heizou, alhaitham, scaramouche, kaveh, pantalone, childe, diluc, cyno x gn! reader
꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff & crack, idk what this is but very cute
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drunk! heizou who gets tremendously clingy with you— he doesn‘t have anything but embracing and snuggling up to you in mind. from the beginning, before anything else, you have to help him get to bed, he can barely walk in a straight line and you wonder who he was sharing his drinks with— might be kazuha for all you know. "you‘re so good to me." he slurrs his words, eyes lowered and almost closed but keeping them open, heizou tries to because he can’t keep his eyes off you— even when drunk out of his mind, then the sweet man reaches his arms out for you, "come here come here." it’s a combination of a pitchy whine and a pout displayed before you and archons, how can someone be this adorable without even trying hard? you wonder but ultimately smile at your boyfriend, drawing a fuzzy blanket over his body before leaning into his chest.
drunk! alhaitham who fights with himself, more or less— he can hardly stand. you see, your boyfriend knows he‘s drunk and now he‘s forcing himself to sober up with nothing but pure, strong willpower and a good spirit at hand, but beware, he knows it‘s not possible but he tries to tell himself to sober up regardless, even when aware that that‘s not how it works in the general rule of booze. "i have almost conquered myself." he announces proudly while leaning against your shoulder, his soft hair ruffled and ticking your cheek. "yeah yeah." you playfully roll your eyes, placing your hand on top of his thigh while petting the clothed skin. it‘s when he places his palm on top of your hand to catch you in his embrace before you can notice the faint, soundly snoring sounds of your boyfriend succumbing to a deep slumber against you.
drunk! scaramouche who, much to your own surprise, tends to indicate a few kisses, cuddles and silently thanks you for taking care of him— it‘s especially surprising since this never happens when he‘s not under the influence of alcohol. truthfully, he didn‘t think he was even capable to get drunk and tried a bunch of different beverages around sumeru city. what he didn‘t know was that, alcohol can become a little tricky, especially when it hits you somewhat delayed. you were quick to notice his cheeks changing their color until his entire face was covered in red— the small pants from his parted lips and his larger pupils only proving your point. "nuisance." kuni curses, planting his arm over your shoulder as he makes you stop for a second, keeping your movements to a stand still. "kiss." he leans closer, no words following, ultimately failing to hit your lips and bumping in your nose instead— at this point you’re dying of laughter, you had even attempted to fight your giggles but how could that even be an option when he‘s like that? yet to the best part, you show him how it‘s done and properly melt your lips on his.
drunk! kaveh who— and such fact is known throughout all of sumeru, was a lightweight on the inside, but sometimes had the need to pretend to actually be able to hold his drinks in. you on the other hand knew your boyfriend and his tendencies to drink a little bit too much whenever he‘s meeting up with his friends for a round of tcg or anything really— most of the time it does consist of gossiping. considering this, you always await him late at night, knowing full on well that he‘s going to have a hard time getting out of his shoes or, frankly, find the way to his bedroom. "i‘m not- not drunk!" he proclaims with a pitched, half broken tone, raising his pointer finger in the air, "drunk not i not!" and stammers before dropping into his bed face first. you welcome him with a smile, "you sure aren‘t." and amusingly shake your head but not before placing a bucket next to the bed for— well, who knows what you both will face this entire night.
drunk! pantalone who loves to drink a few glasses of red wine— reveling in the massive flavor of different nuances the beverage had in store after a long day of working himself to frenzied tiredness. believe it or not but he knows the limits of his body quite well, yet even he can overindulge in it from time to time. in which case would he make himself overly noticable the moment he stumbles home. it‘s louder than usual and you wonder if he actually tripped over and fell carelessly or ran against the door. but the man finds you at last as he always did, you long since ready for bed before dropping right next to you, still fully clothed in a perfectly fitted garment and his glasses messily shoved up, "i may have had too many drinks tonight." he admits against his own volition, rubbing his head and the tiny red spot emerging on his forehead— he really did hit the door, "and you may need to help me out of my clothes."
drunk! childe who doesn‘t consider a party being a real event without him in it— surprinsingly was the eleventh harbinger good with keeping his booze in, it‘s rarely for him to get real, drop dead drunk, but when he does— oh boy, you can be sure he won‘t stop talking to you the entire night. "have i told you about that time i dropped a whale on an entire army?" brazen words after arrogant notions, ajax cuddles himself against your back to try to turn you towards him, after all, he thinks you weren‘t listening with your body being turned away like that. after a deep-rooted yawn, you pull yourself to the left to face him, "you did." and cradle his cheek, "you did at last three times this past hour."
drunk! diluc who, much to his own embarrassment, needs to be taken care of. the man loathes alcohol to his very core, but even he needs to occasionally drink a couple glasses with important partners who he had been collaborating and working with. "i can‘t feel my legs." he almost whines at the loss of his senses, numb and tired as you repeatedly dapped a cold washcloth on his forehead while he was continuously pinching his biceps, "that‘s your arm baby." your expression softened slightly as you carried on to clean him up. as it was time to turn in for the night, you felt diluc‘s intense, warm presence closer than on any other day before, "please don‘t leave." his words find your ears with such ease, like a piece of his own soul, a bright, hopeful voice, full of hope but webbed in bristling fear, "i won‘t."
drunk! cyno who— and this really doesn‘t surprise you at this point in time, pompously shows off all his aquired and bundled up jokes, you had, in the beginning of your relationship, thought that what if he would genuinely turn out to be legitimately hilarious when in such wobbly state. "a tighnari and cyno walk into a bar." he pulls his mask off and places it on a drawer that, and don‘t ever tell him that, but there isn‘t a drawer there, he‘s just imagining things, "knock knock, *hiccup* who‘s there?" cyno quickly stops himself as you pick up the mask and put it on a real drawer, sliding into the warm bedsheets beside him afterwards, "wait, that‘s not how the joke goes." the man wrinkles his nose in thought, blinking rapidly while looking at you through puppy eyes, as if you had an actual idea on what he‘s talking about.
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©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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astrasng · 2 months
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Forbidden fruit - J.WY
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pairing:idol!wooyoung x female!reader
MDNI!
summary: you think a one night stand with your best friend's brother doesn't lead you to anything.
warnings: pure smut and no other warnings
author's note: this is pure fiction, the act in this story is by my imagination and not based off any true events. please do not copy the work.
enjoy!<3
Your best friend since middle school always invites you for family gatherings, birthdays, holidays because she knows what you’ve been through. Your family is fucked up, and when it’s finally summer time, her whole family is there for you to cheer you up to prevent sadness. When it's that time in the year, everyone is traveling home to the Jung house to celebrate.The whole family. The parents are not working, your best friend and you left the dorms and Wooyoung takes a break from being an idol.It’s been difficult for him to finally take off some free time and visit the family house, but now it was the time for that. He loves having you around, because he knows how much you mean to his sister. And that’s what is most important to him.
So for the sake of habit, it's summertime and it's your birthday today. And where else should you be, if not in their house?
The sun is shining, the leaves are beautiful green matching the grass, loud but not too loud music in the background as you watch your friend jump in their big outdoor pool. 
Honestly? It almost felt like you were one of them, but you can't think that. It's not something you can allow yourself after the thing you did with an idol in the family, with Jung Wooyoung.You want to feel ashamed, being guilty because for god's sake it's your best friend's brother. You would've got together with anyone else because there are other guys who want you, and Wooyoung knows that too. He feels jealous, possessive even, just thinking about it. He should focus on his idol duties and you should study to get a diploma.
But forbidden fruit is the sweetest they say, and you two can't stay away from each other since that night, however you try. That night, that happened almost a year ago now and you two tried to move on. And successfully Wooyoung did move on, or so you thought by looking at him. Whenever he had a spare time he wanted to do something about the fact that he had the best fuck in his life with his little sisters best friend. So he had hookups just to forget you, and when you noticed that, you understood what he meant by that. However, a little voice in your head said you should talk to him about it because sure as hell, you were not the only one still feeling something. The tension between you two always has been intense until it snapped.
This is what happened today too. 
You, sitting and sipping on your bottled cocktail in the perfect weather, getting a little color on your skin while waiting for your friend with more alcohol to bring. But of course you expected Wooyoung showing up some time rudely,interrupting your little alone time in the backyard with an all knowing smirk. He was wearing nothing more than swim trunks and his usual black sunglasses covering his eyes. You look at him with an arched brow and he only shakes his head. You knew exactly what he was thinking, after all this time. To be honest, it was a long time ago since the two of you met, but you still wanted to talk to him desperately.
“What?” You ask suddenly when you can still feel his stare on you. 
“You changed.” He leans back on his back and puts his arms behind his head. You furrow your eyebrows not understanding what he means by that. “I mean, when I last saw you, you looked different. Not saying it's a bad thing.” 
“Glad to see you too.” You mumble under your nose while watching his muscles flex. How is he doing that? It's like he's even bigger now than last year. He turns his head to you suddenly, catching you staring. His smirk is even bigger now and you're blushing like crazy. His hair got longer too, now all black from the blonde and black combo from last year. You never dared to tell him, but you liked his longer hair better. 
“Don't look at me like that. I heard you have a girlfriend.” You force the words out of your mouth. You really did hear that a while ago, and because you're curious (absolutely not jealous) about her, and you want to change the subject quickly before he asks or says something about how you're blushing, you end up asking this. What an ass question. 
He chuckles deeply and looks up at the bright sky. “Why are you asking? Still not over me?” 
You did wrong by asking this question. You sigh calmly and drink the rest of your drink before answering. “Please. How do you know I don’t have someone?” With a satisfied smile you lean back on your back and close your eyes. You have too much pride in you to let his cocky behavior win this time. He may have won you over last year by his smooth talk, but you changed, as he said. You learned the lesson. 
“Do you have anyone?” He looks curious, one brow arched at you.
“Maybe.” You shrug your shoulders, practically feeling his burning gaze on your body.
“You're bluffing.You don't.” He sounds tense, like he’s trying to get you to speak the truth. And you really don’t like that.
“How do you know? You said I changed..” 
In the next minute, you feel the sun getting blocked from above, so naturally, you open your eyes just to see Wooyoung standing above you, his arms appearing on both sides of your head out of the blue. “Because sweetheart,I saw how you clenched your thighs together the minute I stepped out of the house.” He breathes, his shirtless body closer to yours now, making you slightly let your guard down. You feel your skin heat up from his comment, every word dripping with lust as he scans your body from above. “And don’t think I would let you have anyone else other than me.” He adds, the smirk on his face showing his pearly white tooth. 
Before you could cut him off and brainwash him about being absolutely delusional, your best friend jumps out of nowhere into the garden, holding two cocktails in her hand. 
“Woo! You're home!!” She jumps on his brother after putting down the said liquids, hugging him tightly while Wooyoung’s groaning from the lack of air.
“Yeah, glad to be back..” He groans when she lets him go finally,patting his shoulders affectionately. You always adored the way they loved each other, no matter how old they were. You often catch yourself looking at Wooyoung playing with his youngest brother, sometimes even smiling at the both as they fight over something silly. In those times, you want to punch yourself. 
“Have you wished a happy birthday to Y/N??” She snaps her head at you quickly and then back to his.Your friend thought you two were the only one being close in the family, but if only she knew his brother was the first one wishing you a happy birthday at midnight.
He straightens up, seeing his sister still rambling about how excited she was to be finally home with everyone.So as she was distracted, he swept her in his arms and with one swing he threw her in the water. Then slowly he looks back at you, pushing his sunglasses to the tip of his nose to see you properly. “You're not swimming,birthday girl?” He asks with a grin. You wanted to slap the smile off his face, still knowing that you couldn’t do it, even if you tried. So instead,you stand up slowly, still holding eye contact. You take your shirt and jeans short off and now you're standing in a black bikini in front of him. Wooyoung can’t help but scan you up and down slowly, pushing his glasses back. 
“If you’re done staring, join us.” With a wink, you jump into the pool, the water cooling your overheated body, the waves closing above you and leaving you in your little world with your thoughts. Everytime you’re invited to their house, you feel the most welcomed. So naturally, you feel a little vulnerable still being at their place after such a long time. Getting close to everyone in the family, practically being a Jung at this point. All these actions got you into a big problem that you caused yourself. Hooking up with Wooyoung. 
You don’t exactly remember what went wrong in your head, how you got yourself into that position that your body was all over Wooyoung’s. Maybe it was that he just got back from tour, and he was staying only a few days. The tension in his body was unmatched, it was like his whole body radiated the tension off, and for some reason, you were there to catch it all. Since then, you both knew it’s more than just being family friends. It was everything, but that.
“You okay?” Suddenly, your best friend pulls you up from the water, looking worriedly at your confused gaze. You try to swipe the hair of your vision, seeing her standing with a trembling body in front of you. “You were under the water for quite some time, I thought you needed help.” She sighs, standing from one to the other. 
“I’m okay, but are you? Your lips are all purple.” I notice the way her lips are trembling too, her body covered in goosebumps. She shakes her head and groans, turning around. 
“It’s too cold for me! I’m gonna go inside, help the others with dinner.” She says, already climbing out of the pool, wrapping a towel around her body. “Stay with Woo, if you want to. Join us later, you guys just arrived, so relax.” She adds, and then leaves you in the pool within a second. It’s true that you arrived only an hour ago, driving all the way here from the city with a tired brain and back, so to be honest, it feels a little bit too good not helping the others this time. 
You scan the backyard confusedly, not seeing Wooyoung anymore as his sister said.
“What?” You breathe out, your eyebrows furrowed together as you notice two hands snaking up the side of you. “No…” As quickly as the word passes your lips, you get pulled under the water.With a yelp,you open your eyes and see a blurry figure swimming towards you. Out of pure instinct,you’re trying to swim away to the other side of the pool, but he catches your thighs and pulls you back towards them. You yelp again and bubbles float out of your mouth but you quickly shut it before you drown from lack of oxygen.Two hands appear on either side of your hip,gripping it softly. You both go up, trying to get access to oxygen as you hear him laughing while brushing his wet hair out of his face.
“It’s not funny! I almost choked on the water.” You splash some water on Wooyoung to get him to stop laughing at you, you’re patience with him running short by the time. Your hair gets in your vision again, making you slowly get annoyed as you spend more and more time in the pool.
Slowly,the same hands stroke your hair out of your face,making you finally see as he’s lifting your chin up. As you finally open your eyes, you see Woyoung’s brown eyes staring down at you with desire in them. It makes your stomach flip, but at the same time you are anxious about anyone seeing you two. Your eyes snap back to Wooyoung’s again, seeing water droplets falling down from his slicked black hair and from his honey colored skin, mesmerizing you by his visuals. You notice his plump lips being all moisturized from the water, his beauty mark decorating his perfect lips. 
“You’re okay, pretty girl?” He asks softly, his previous cocky behavior nowhere to be seen. Before you could drown yourself more in his beauty, you shake yourself a little and splash his face again, swimming further away from him. “Don’t do that ever again.” You warn him, looking back at him when you finally touch the shallow part of the pool, sitting down at the stairs. He laughs slightly, swiping the water out of his face once again, getting his body fully in the water again. 
“I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t know you’d get so sensitive about it.” He says, his eyes glued on you. With a shrug, you look away from him, not answering. You try to take your mind off from thinking about his hands literally touching your waist just a second ago. How you missed his hands on you. 
“What are you thinking about so much?" He asks, curiosity sitting in his voice as he tilts his head to the side.
You look at him again, a thousand questions floating in your mind. Should you question him about how his life is going? “Do you really wanna know?”  You ask while arching your brow up. He nods immediately with lustful eyes.
With a sigh, you lean back on your elbows. “Is it true?” As the question passes your lips, you don’t dare looking at him, but rather at the sky above you. The sun is getting low, the patio lights are yellowish and the pool lights just turned on. A minute passes before Wooyoung answers. “True what?” His voice is closer now, but you keep looking up.
You try to keep your guard up, even though you feel his body getting closer to you, the water moving around you slightly. “That you have a girlfriend now.” 
As you say the words, Wooyoung quickly grabs your waist, pulling your body closer to his, making your eyes snap open to land on his perfectly sculptured face. He looks deeply into your eyes, now all playfulness is gone from them. “Does it matter?” Wooyoung eyes lock on your lips as he murmured. The feeling of his gaze on your lips just confirmed the intimate moment you two have. So without another thought,you put your hands on his waist under the water where no one can see it. 
“It does. It matters to me.” The hands on your hips are gripping tighter, and your fingers crossed his v-line. Wooyoung sighs softly, closing his eyes and letting his head fall down on your shoulder. 
“No, it’s not true. I wouldn’t be here otherwise, dumbass.” He suddenly picks your legs up and puts them on his hips.This way, you’re kind of laid back on the stairs, still not fully in the water. The move caught you by surprise, now gripping his bicep.
“Why didn’t you call me?” Now it’s his turn to question, making you bite your lip in thought. 
“Because you’re kind of a celebrity.” You say it in a matter of fact way, because it’s true. Why would you suddenly call him up, when he’s traveling the world, seeing fans all around?
“It didn’t matter when I fucked you.” His voice is low now, whispering in your ear. Red color blooms across your face, making your stomach jump into a nervous knot at his voice,your thighs squeezing around his hips pulling him closer. 
You try to take a breath, thinking logically. “We can’t do that again.” Your breathing is getting heavier as your lips are getting closer to his. 
“Then why do you want it?”
You don’t know how to answer that. You seriously don’t want to answer his questions because it will only get you to be hot and bothered for nothing. And of course, he knows exactly. 
“You don’t have to say anything, I already know the answer.” His nose is brushing yours, the adrenalin is so high you’re surprised you haven’t passed out yet. “Forbidden fruit is the sweetest, right?” He tilts his head to the side, and like magnets, your lips collide with each other in a heated and heavy kiss. The way he kisses you, his hands gripping your waist to keep you close to his body makes your heady dizzy, finally satisfied to feel his lips on your again. 
Wooyoung swipes his tongue on your bottom lip, begging for entrance as you slightly open your mouth just to give him that. It’s messy, your teeth clashing together here and then as both of you urgently need the other. Like you want to hide inside him, getting more closer than ever as he wants the same. Wooyoung got needier the last time he was with you. 
No. 
“All I was able to think about was you.”
One of your hands is tangled in his black hair while the other is sliding all the way down to his swim truck. It feels wrong to do this again, but you’re far too gone now.
His hands are massaging the fat of your ass, his hardness poking at your stomach lightly as he keeps his hands glued on you.You moan softly in his mouth from the friction, then you catch him slip his fingers carefully under your bikini bottoms all the way to your clit. His smug grin appears on his face while kissing you, and never letting you go. Heavy pants surround the two of you as the moon is starting to come up to the sky, Wooyoung catching your hand to drag it all the way down to your core. 
With delicate kisses on your neck, he whispers. “Pull your panties to the side for me.” 
The way he talks has you melting in no time, forcing your brain to focus on holding your underwear to the side as you feel his fingers slide inside your warm walls.For him, it was like getting sent back to heaven. The way your walls wrap around his fingers, wishing it was his cock instead,has him moaning above you, inviting his mouth in more to feel his tongue on yours again. His pace matches with the way your breath quickens, moans and groans filling the backyard. 
“Woo, we have to stop.” You pull a few inches away to look in his lustful gaze. “I won’t stop here,Y/N” He takes the flesh on your neck between his teeth and starts sucking it. “I’m not going to wait another year for this.” He groans into your neck as his painfully hard cock brushes the side of your thigh. A whimper escapes you as you let your head fall back to the edge of the pool. “I…” 
At this time, he pushed your whole body to the tiles of the pool, and stroked himself to your core to ease his pain, his fingers now gone. He manages to get another moan out of you before a door shuts in loudly. You both jump away from each other and look up at the porch seeing the Jung family’s dog wagging his tail with a toy in his mouth. For a second a cold shiver runs through your body at the possibility that someone caught you two.But then Wooyoung’s eyes found yours again and you both let out a laugh at the pathetic situation. 
However, it was a close call. No one can ever see the two of you together, especially in this house. You watch him as he is starting to get out of the pool up to the porch to his dog to throw away his toy. He turns around and heads to the door. 
“Where are you going?” You ask as you finally get out of the pool.
“What do you think? I have to take care of this before the guests are here.” He gestures to his obvious bulge in his pants.  A giggle gets out of you and he just rolls his eyes. 
Right, the guests…
⋆ ˚。 ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。 ⋆
“So, Y/N honey, how was university this year? You’re not too hard on yourself right?” Wooyoung’s mom winks at you and laughs a little as she looks at you from the head of the table. You laugh along, nodding. “Everything is fine. My grades were a little low at the beginning of the semester, but I got myself together and it’s all fine.” She smiles at you with a warm gaze and turns back to the guests at her side. 
You look around – the whole table is full, when they said that they were expecting a few cousins you thought it was really just a few, not a whole army. After you and Wooyoung got interrupted outside, you decided to go and get yourself presentable for the guests. It was an annual thing that the family invited people from here and there to throw a summer party, and it was no different now. 
“And you Wooyoung? When will we finally see you with your wife and kids on your back, huh?” An older blonde woman asked, “I heard that you have someone!” You almost let out a scoff but held back as he turned to the woman with a mischievous glint in his eyes. 
“Oh yes, I have someone, although I don’t really know what she thinks about marriage and kids yet,” He continued  “She is closer than you might think.” 
You put your drink back down after a few coughs. The woman arched her brow. “Who wouldn’t want to marry you, honey?” She patted his hand and turned back to her partner. 
He visibly felt satisfied with that answer, the old lady practically stroking his ego with that comment. And who are you to let that slide and get to his head? Under the table, you gently stroke his crotch with your heels. He looked fantastic tonight. Wearing a white button up shirt, and a black dress pants. Simple, but on him, he looked like a Greekgod. 
He shoots his eyes to yours as you smile at him sweetly like nothing happened. He takes a deep breath and clears his throat. Let the game begin.
Slowly, he takes his small spoon and drops it under the table,your eyes following his actions. 
 Oh how cliché. - you thought.
“Oh, whoops.” He curses under his breath and looks around if anyone sees it, of course his sister looks over for just a second, then turns away and starts chatting. You already knew what was going to happen -- so you let it happen. 
Wooyoung being under the table gives you many ideas and so you prepare yourself to the worst, but then you can feel his hand slowly wrapping around your ankles. Lifting your feet out of your heels you find his crotch again, and slowly stroking it against his will. You can hear a faint groan under the table, but luckily the chatting in the room is loud enough to cover it.  Wooyoung’s fingers are bunching up your dress, just to have enough room for what he’s about to do. You quickly cover your abdomen with your napkin,then suddenly - a cold and piercing feeling strokes your wet folds making you gasp out. A few eyes land on you but you shake your head and laugh it off  “Sorry.”
What the hell?
What is he….?
Then again, you can feel the cold against your throbbing clit and his hands gripping your thighs. After a moment you realize. Your eyes widen as you mentally curse at yourself and at him. 
Is he really…?
And he strikes again. It feels so good, the cold spoon stroking your wet folds, sliding up and down making your hips move a little bit. You are trying so hard not to moan out loud as Wooyoung is working magic with a spoon. It feels so sick and disgusting, let's not mention that this is happening in front of the family. But it feels so good. He’s moving the spoon quicker by the time, and you have to bite down on your lip to keep your whines and moans. 
Like it’s not a torture enough for you,out of nowhere, he slides a finger into you, making you buck your hips up and let out a low sigh.
Once again, a few pairs of eyes look at you and - “I just feel a little nauseous, sorry.” You give them a tight smile as you grip your chair. You’re going to explode – at any minute now and he can’t control himself. You know he can’t. He gets off the pleasure of yours, he lives for your satisfaction so if he sees that you like it, it takes a lot for him to keep himself back.
His fingers are moving in sync with the spoon, but you can’t take it anymore. You push your chair back and stand up. “I’m going to the bathroom.” You whisper into your friend’s ear. She nods and squeezes your hand. 
As you walk away, you glance back at the table to see Wooyoung getting up from the floor and sitting back, a visible smirk plastered on his face. You shake your head and walk towards the stairs to hurry up to the closest bathroom you find. 
It shouldn’t be obvious right? I mean if he now gets up and says he’s gonna check on you like a loving family friend, then everyone should believe that right? Fuck it. His cock was rock hard against his pants and he needed a release with you. He has been waiting for it. 
So he stands up and says the exact words he said in his head. Nobody seems to care, so he turns around and hurries to the first bathroom that comes into sight, exactly where you went.
He puts his hand on the door, but before knocking he hears a faint whimper. A rush of adrenaline shivers through Wooyoung and puts his head on the door. He smirks to himself as he knocks on the door. The minute you open up the door he pushes you against the sink and kisses you deeply. It’s intense, and quick. He doesn’t want to waste any more time. He knows you want him, just as much as he wants you. 
“You’ve been keeping yourself warm and wet for me hmm, princess?” You tilt your head back to let him lick the side of your neck. With his leg he closes the door and locks it with one hand. 
“At the table, you acted like a bitch in heat. Stroking me under the table? Fine, have it your way then.” Wooyoung hisses as he can feel you getting handsy, already unbuttoning his dress shirt as his fingers zip down your dress, kissing all over your chest.  
Your hands travel down to his pants impatiently, taking his cock out as beads of pre-cum leaks down on your fingers the minute it slaps against his abdomen. Moaning at the sight, he lifts your legs to wrap it around his waist holding you close. His broad shoulders tense when you bite his neck, marking him visibly. Maybe you shouldn’t have done that. 
“Woo,please…” Your pleading echoes in the bathroom while Wooyoung grips your thighs to keep you pressed against the sink, feeling his cock pressed against your clothed core. You grind against him, making him groan out as he tugs your panties to the side. His fingers immediately find your tight entrance,pushing them in and making you moan out as you grab his unbottuned white shirt.
“Tell me what you want, darling.” He nuzzles his nose in your neck, biting on it and kissing the hurting sensation after, while his fingers indulges in your puffy walls. It feels like your whole body is on fire, only aching for him as he’s impossibly close to you. 
“You, inside me. Now.” You tell him straight up, you’ve been waiting for this since you had your first time with him.
Wooyoung smirks to himself as he listens to your pleas. “Beg for it, baby. I know you can do better than that.” With a light lick, he leaves a mark on your neck while his fingers tease the rim of your entrance, making you squeeze your eyes shut. It really became a torture with his cocky behavior, not letting you get what you want. The air between you long gone as your hands caress his glistening abs, your mind still trying to make up to finally say the words. 
But him, seemingly sensing your doubts, he suddenly lets your legs drop to the floor, and in a second he turns you around to face the mirror. “I’ll make sure you do better than that.” Wooyoung adds, forcing your upper body to lean on the counter in front of you, caressing the skin all the way down to your core. “Be a good girl for me, and play with yourself baby.” He adds, guiding your hand once again down to your aching point. As his hands caress your ass cheeks you can’t help but let out a whine, your fingers curling around your clit to get yourself off already. But you know it won’t work like that. 
Wooyoung loved playing around, and it was no different now, as he squats down to be eyes level with your glistening pussy, waiting for his plump lips to be attached to. So he does exactly that, slowly tasting you on his tongue, making him immediately groan out. It takes you by surprise, as you feel the sensation of your fingers around your clit and his tongue shoved deep inside you. As he moans against your pussy while massaging your ass gives you a wave of pleasure, making you hang your head down to the counter, his actions resulting in you being a moaning mess. 
“Come on, baby. Just say the words.” He sounds desperate too, wanting nothing more than to be inside you. But who are you to deny him now?
“Please Wooyoung, I need you to fuck me.” You breathe out, your head getting more dizzy as he suddenly pulls away from your soaking core and smacks your fingers away from your clit, denying your climax for the third time today. 
“There you go, pretty. Was that hard, hmm?” He hums against your ears as he kisses your exposed shoulders, his hands spreading your ass further as his other hand is lining himself up to your entrance. For a few times, he strokes his tip between your folds, making him groan out as he throws his head back slightly, veins popping out on his neck. “Keep looking in the mirror.” With a simple finger on your chin he turns your case to the mirror, watching yourself almost drool at the way he’s teasing your hole. “I want you to see yourself fall apart on my cock.” 
And with one simple move, he pushes his leaking tip into your warm walls, groaning at the feeling finally being inside you. “You’re so tight, Y/N. Fuck.” He groans, his hands gripping your waist as you try to inhale normally. As much as you want to keep your head up and watch his cock slide in and out of you, you can’t help but let your head hang down at the feeling of him throbbing inside you, his cock brushing against your cervix with one swift thrust. 
Wooyoung remained in place as he let out an erotic moan at the depth, while you on the other hand, were panting and trying desperately to blink away the tears out of your vision. “See, princess? See how much of a whore you are for me?” Wooyoung added as you tried to get a grip on something. 
“Mhmm” You couldn’t even form a word at this point, already deep into the feeling of him finally being inside you again. 
The sound of his waist hitting your ass echoed loudly in the bathroom, and the sound only got more repetitive as he began to properly move. His cock was so deep inside you, that you can see a bulge forming in your stomach when you look down between your bodies. 
“You’re so perfect, doll.” He grunted, dropping his head on your back momentarily then thrusting into you mercilessly. “So fucking good. You’re so tight and-- fuck!” He moaned out when you clenched down on him uncontrollably, making him lose his mind. “Shit, don’t squeeze me like that,” He grunted once again, swiping his hair out of the way. “You nearly made me come.” 
“D-don’t act like – ahh – you didn’t like that.” You panted out, little groans leaving you as you put your hand on the mirror in front of you. 
Wooyoung smirked, seeing the struggle of your hands not going anywhere. So in one swift motion, he pulled out and turned you around, making you sit back down on him without a warning as he fully seated back on the toilet, making you squeeze down on him again. With a satisfied sigh, he brushed your hair out the way and kissed the side of your neck. This way you felt him deeper inside you, almost thinking he can rearrange your insides. Without another sane thought, he thrusted up into you, making your eyes roll back, holding back a moan.
“Let me hear you, pretty.” Wooyoung thrusted up continuously as you tried to ride him, your nails bunching up his shirt on his back, your hand sneaking up into his hair to finally feel them between your fingers. He sighs into the crook of your neck as you scratch his scalp, however, he refuses to give you a break, continuously drilling his cock in you, his lips itching down to your collarbone. His cock kept rubbing along the perfect spot, making you cry out in a quiet – “Right there Woo,”. And the louder you cried, the more intense that feeling got. You could barely see through the blurry and teary eyes as he watched you with fully blown dark eyes and jaw tense as he fucked almost split you open. The hands that were grabbing your waist a second ago quickly pulled your bras down to attach his lips around one of your nipples, sucking and biting down on it as he was trying to get something out of it. Your toes curled as he switched between the two, his waist refusing to stop as he thrusted up into you powerfully, his hands slamming you down on his cock. 
“You’re tightening up, doll. Are you gonna cum?” Wooyoung could barely laugh as he groaned his question, feeling you clenched down on him again, now your climax is inevitable. 
“Yes, fuck! Woo, I’m gonna-” You whined, hugging his head closer to your chest as your release closed in. 
“Come baby, let me feel you milking me dry.” He groaned, the grip on your waist tightened as he moved his hips at a rapid speed, making you reach your climax in no time. Cumming around his cock you throw your head back as he bites into your nipple once again to contain his moans, feeling himself throbbing inside you uncontrollably. With a final thrust, he paints your walls white as he still feels your clenching around him, making him groan deeply, pulling you tightly against him while he watches his own cum oozing out around his cock. With a chuckle, he gathers it with his finger and brings it up to your lips to taste. A confused look plasters on your fucked out face, trying to breathe normally again as you watch him smile sweetly at you. 
“You don’t think I’m done with you, right, birthday girl?” 
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝
i wrote this to my lovely friend who had their birthday recently<3 @liloraet
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irisintheafterglow · 2 months
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been having a very odd moment in my brain so take exes to lovers with prohero!shoto
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"hi."
"what are you doing here?"
i'm still in love with you.
"i wanted to see how you were holding up." you're a different person compared to the last time he saw you. you from the past would smile at him, softly thanking him for his concern and inviting him inside with a hand on his shoulder. you in front of him, however, just laughs. it's humorless, pained even. you don't laugh the same as you did with him. "what is it?"
"nothing," you say with a shake of your head. "i appreciate you coming by, but i swear i'm fine." he catches the way your eyes space out, if only for a moment like your consciousness disappeared into a different plane of existence. "yeah, i'm fine," you reiterate when your senses come back and you move to close the door. he carefully but firmly stops you from shutting it and you narrow your eyes. "the fuck do you think you're doing?" you never swore when you were with him.
"i brought you food," shoto offers, pulling the plastic bag from behind him and watching patiently as you analyze him like you were assessing his threat level. what had your asshole of an ex done to you to make you so guarded? "it's your favorite," he adds when he interprets your silence as apprehension. without another word, you nod and open the door, no reassuring hand on his shoulder.
you quietly take the bag from him and set it on your kitchen counter, neatly arranging the to-go containers while shoto moves on pure muscle memory to where you keep your plates. he opens the cabinet to find it bare, along with the cabinets to the left and right of it. perhaps you'd rearranged the place with your new--no, old--partner. he doesn't notice the heavy silence until you clear your throat, swallowing thickly.
"i...i smashed all the dinnerware because i was angry...at him," you croak, your head hung in shame. he hums his understanding but his heart sinks into his stomach. a memory flickers to life in the back of his mind: you and shoto in the local pottery studio, painting strawberries and penguins on matching dinner sets. you beam at him and hold up your newest creation, a baby blue bowl decorated with red and white hearts. it's beautiful, love, he says and your grin grows wider. you tell him the colors of the hearts are to match his hair, and that the bowl would always be your favorite because it reminded you of him. i can't wait to eat soba from it, then, since the art will always remind me of the artist.
"there should be paper plates in the bag," he says gently, shutting the cabinet softly because he knows you don't like the sound of it slamming. "if there isn't, i don't mind eating straight from the container."
"thank you for coming over. it means a lot," you murmur with a container and a fork in your hands, bypassing your dining set and opting for the floor of your living room. he follows you, sitting a respectful distance away that violates every thought willing him to hold you close.
"has anyone else been by?"
"mina, momo, and jiro yesterday. midoriya and uraraka the day before that." you release a little puff of air through your nose, an indicator of sad amusement. "even bakugo stopped by with kirishima. that asshole must have known you were coming because he brought cold soba and i told him i don't eat it."
"what did he say?"
"he told me 'i know you don't, but he does.' weird, isn't it?" your eyes flicker from your food up to his own, watching him again. "did you tell bakugo that you were gonna come over?" he shakes his head, the honest answer. "we've been broken up for two years but people still predict how we operate."
"maybe they know something that we don't," he proposes and your expression hardens.
"don't say that. you can't say that."
"you told me relationships are built on trust," he reminds you. "i won't lie to you, even if we aren't together." your grip tightens around your fork and you forcefully set your container on the coffee table. he steadies his resolve, preparing his defenses so that when you lash out, he can take it in stride. you're in love with them, dumbass, bakugo said to him with a scowl during a night at a pros-only bar. they're in love with you, too, so get your heads out of your asses and get back together.
he's not prepared when tears start rolling down your face.
he reaches out on instinct and you dodge his hand, unsuccessfully wiping your eyes with the heel of your hand.
"the reason why we didn't work was because you were honest. you told me it wasn't the right time, that maybe we could try again in the future," your voice cracks and so does something in shoto's chest. "and then we didn't. you moved on, which forced me to move on too, and now you think you can just walk in here and expect me to open up?"
say it.
tell them.
tell them everything you never did. tell them everything you wanted to but couldn't find the words.
tell them you still love them.
"i want you to let me love you again." what?
"i don't understand." that's not what he meant to say...was it?
"i don't either," he whispers and you finally let him brush a tear from your cheek. his body gravitates toward you magnetically and, even after so long, your skin is a familiar sensation. "all i know is that i miss you, and i'm sorry." another round wells up in your eyes but you know it's not from anger; it's from longing.
"he didn't love me," you sniffled. the muscle in shoto's jaw clenches so tightly, he could chip a tooth. "he loved the idea of loving me, but he didn't love me. i hated who i was when i was with him. and," you pause to exhale shakily, "i miss who i was when i was with you."
"i miss who i was when i was with you, too." he offers you a sad smile and you laugh through your tears, a genuine laugh that he knows in his soul is real. "there you are."
"you still love me? even after two years?"
"it felt longer than that," he admits and you smile the kind of smile that you only have when you're with him. "i can't undo leaving, nor can i undo how he was with you...but i can promise i can bring you back to yourself again. because i love who you are when you're with me."
"are you asking me if you can try again?"
"i'm begging you to let me try again," he pleads, taking your hands in his. they're rough and calloused and familiar and safe. "please."
your eyes sparkle and you stand unexpectedly, moving to rummage around in the fridge and kitchen cabinets. when you get back, you're holding a bowl of what he can only assume is bakugo's cold soba. you place it in front of him and settle into his side, resting your head on his shoulder as you grab the tv remote. with a satisfied smile, he opens his chopsticks and looks down at the bowl.
baby blue with red and white hearts.
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lale-txt · 11 months
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what gets their heart pounding... ♡ [partly ns.fw] ↳ w/ Kakashi, Obito, Madara & Tobirama
a/n: reader is gn! Lale, you can't write those hcs for every series you enjoy—I CAN AND I WILL. i got positively possessed while writing these and now i'm thinking about turning each of them into a oneshot. picked my two favorite Uchihas and my two fav white haired men for this round, but i have other chars for this in the drafts already >:3c
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❦ 𝐊𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈
the subtle touches when you’re together; hands brushing, pinkies almost interlocking, your fingers tapping his arm to get his attention, his hand on the small of your back for a brief second when you move through a crowd; as if your bodies are simply drawn to each other
the urge to adjust your headband or to brush a strand of hair behind your ear when you’re too lost in thought to notice, only to snap out of it and look at him with those curious doe eyes, so full of life
the way your tongue pokes out between your lips when you patch up his wounds after a mission together; you’re so focused on his well-being that it makes Kakashi’s heart melt
your mumbled “you’re too reckless, i worry about you” that reveals just how deep that love for him runs, making it impossible for him to shove his own feelings aside any longer
the small gasp you let out when he pulls down his mask to kiss you with hunger and an unknown softness, as if he was afraid of waking up from the sweetest dream
realizing he’s not dreaming at all when you’re lying tangled in the soaked sheets together and try to catch your breaths, skin on skin, sparking little fires everywhere
your hand on his chest, feeling his fluttering heartbeat, eyes glued on your fingers as they wander down lower his stomach, until his cock is twitching in your fist and shortly after inside of you again
❦ 𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐎
everything, anything you do. this man’s heart falters the moment he feels your presence nearby.
hearing his name roll off your pretty tongue, a sound like velvet, catching him off guard whenever you call out for him, your face lightening up when he turns towards you (not knowing you’re his whole sun)
your fingertips tracing the scars on his face; a thing he has never allowed anyone before to do so, but with you… it’s different. you’re being so gentle, it makes him want to place his bare heart into your open palms 
feeling your soft skin for the first time when his hands wander underneath your clothes, exploring every inch of you paired with the sweet sounds you make, his breath hitching in his throat
your pleading eyes when you tug on the hem of his shirt, silently asking for it to come off, as if he could ever resist you. as if the essence of his soul wasn’t already stained in your colors.
the way your eyes flutter wide open when he reveals this scarred body of his and how warm your lips feel on his skin when you kiss and lick and suck from the side of his neck down to his hip bones 
now it’s your name falling out of his mouth, between broken moans, when that pretty mouth of yours wraps around his throbbing cock, lapping up everything he has to offer you and you’re doing it oh so willingly 
❦ 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐀
the sound of your laughter coming through the open window with the warm summer breeze. you’re his sweet new neighbor and he’s been smitten with you ever since you showed up on his doorstep, a plate of inarizushi in your hands to introduce yourself
seeing you reading in a corner the backyard, that little frown on your face while the tip of your nose almost touches the scrolls; you’re so eager for knowledge and he can’t help but admire this
the complete shift in your expression when you notice his presence (barely anyone does, at least not like you do), your whole face brightening up as you wave at him
hearing you late at night, when you don’t realize just how thin these walls are, the sweet sounds of your moans when you touch yourself. Marada can’t help but wonder, are you thinking about him? you couldn’t possibly… right?
feeling how hard he is when he finally gives in to the temptation, palming himself to the muffled sounds of yours, only a thin wall between the two of you, you so blissfully unaware of the mess you’ve made out of him when he spills himself in his hollow fist
seeing you again in the backyard a few days later, except that this time your kimono is hiked up to your hips, your legs spread wide, giving him a good visual on what happened on the other side of the wall
his sharingan ablaze, taking in the view of you, until you gesture him to come closer, closer, till he’s on his knees in front of you, showing you just how much he adores you…
❦ 𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐀
the way you lean over him when he’s sitting at his desk in the hokage office, pointing out something on the scroll in front of him, but you’re making it so hard for him to focus with your chest pressing against his shoulder and that sweet smell of yours entangling him
the startled sounds you make when he wraps a blanket around your shoulders after you’ve fallen asleep in your office once again, and the way you drift back into sleep when you notice it’s him and that you can feel safe here
your apologetic smile when he’s scolding you the next day for working too much; as if he wasn’t missing out on sleep for the sake of the village and doesn’t secretly admire your passion and drive (being oblivious that maybe, maybe, you just want an excuse to spend more time by his side) 
the small “oh” coming out of your mouth one night, when you’re in the archive together, searching for one specific scroll, but instead his lips finds yours and suddenly your fingers are in his hair and his are pulling you closer by the hips and that scroll is completely forgotten (it was never about the scroll)
the tension between you unloading when you straddle his lap and all the useless fabric between you is shoved aside hastily so you can sink yourself fully onto his thick length
feeling you tremble on top of him until he wraps his arms around you, holding you so close to him while he slowly works you open, his lips on your neck, his dark, calm voice whispering sweet nothings in your ear while you clench around him 
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lovebugism · 11 months
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Hi! Could I pls request a Steve x shy!reader drabble? Maybe they’re a bit of a bookworm and they have a meet cute at a library or bookstore or something ☺️ I love your fics, and I hope you’re having a good day! 💛
i've been working on this wip for ages but i loved this request too much not to finish! thanks for being patient with me anon!
summary: steve hopeless romantic harrington meets shy!reader at a bookstore and fluffy awkwardness ensues (meet cute, strangers to lovers-ish, fluff, 2.1k)
fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)
Five hours go by like minutes, tucked away in the back of the library — your own little corner of the world. 
Because all your spare cash went to groceries and good food (and the newest Margaret Atwood novel just dropped), you hide in the back of the bookstore and get lost in the nostalgic earthy scent of the thick pages you’ve been waiting ages to read. 
You sit between the dystopian and gothic fiction aisles, back propped against the former with your knees folded to your chest, and speed-read as much as you can before closing.
The in-store café offers complimentary coffee and bagels. It’s lukewarm and a little cardboard-y, but it’s fuel nonetheless. You only get up once to use the bathroom and stretch your stiff limbs. Other than that very brief break, you’re relatively unbothered — until page 196, anyway.
“Where are the porno mags?” a male voice wonders from a few aisles down. It’s not the first voice you’ve heard all day, but it’s certainly the closest.
A feminine voice follows, nearer now. “There’s no porn, dingus. I was just saying that so you’d drive me here.”
“…That’s so fucked up.”
“You’ll get over it.”
“No, actually. I won’t. This might be the end of our friendship, now that I think about it.”
Their conversation draws closer and closer to you in time with their nearing footsteps. You figure they must be looking for a different section — certainly not the one you’ve had to yourself all day — but then they turn the corner of the aisle and stop short when they find you sitting there.
“Oh,” a pretty girl hums as she stares down at you, rouge mouth forming a softly pouted ‘o’ shape. 
Her hair is a sandy color, like a beach, and it’s chopped at her shoulders. She wears a pair of slacks and suspenders over an oversized button-up. She looks like a character from a book you wish you could write. 
She smiles down at you, a tad bit awkwardly. “Hello…”
“Shit— ” you curse, scrambling to get your legs out of the aisle. Your face burns as you bring your knees back to your chest. “I’m sorry.”
“No worries,” she shrugs and walks on by you. 
A pretty boy follows.
His hair is a really specific shade of brown — like chocolate syrup mixed with honey. It’s pushed back over his forehead, messy with intention. A few strands hang over his thick brows like they’re meant to be there. He’s got a layer of scruff on his chiseled jaw that’s a shade lighter than his actual hair. 
His wide eyes are a similar chocolate-syrup-honey color.
He’s almost annoyingly pretty. The kind of pretty that seems unfair.
“Don’t apologize to her,” the pretty boy jokes with a lopsided smile. “She’s a total bully.”
The pretty girl interjects. “Don’t listen to him. He’s an idiot. And stop bothering her, dingus— she’s obviously trying to read.”
You breathe out an awkward laugh through your nose. 
You don’t want them to think you’re actually annoyed, but you don’t have the words to tell them that. You have no idea what to say to them, actually. They’re obviously far cooler than you are, and the notion almost threatens you.
The pretty boy doesn’t follow his pretty friend. He lets her roam the aisle, obviously in search of something, and leans against the gothic fiction section across from you.
“So, uh… What are you reading?” he asks.
You don’t trust your voice to answer him verbally, lest the words get stuck in your throat and make you sound like Kermit the Frog. You flash him the dystopic, renaissance painting-esque cover with a tightlipped smile.
“Handmaid’s Tale,” he reads with a squint, then nods. “Sounds fun.”
“It’s not,” the pretty girl scoffs. She thumbs through her own copy of the book that she plucked from the shelf. “It’s the one I was telling you about on the way over.”
The pretty boy’s face screws up in disgust. “Oh. The one with gross men?”
“The one with the gross men.”
He turns back to you, looking apologetic. “Sorry, I take it back. Not fun.”
You smile wordlessly in response.
“He’s Steve, by the way,” the pretty girl says to you, nodding to the pretty boy. “I figured if he’s gonna keep weirdly hovering over you, you should probably know his name—”
“I’m not hovering!”
“—You can call him dingus if you want. I’m Robin.”
“Hi,” you greet, quiet and mousy.
“Do you come around here often?” the boy — Steve — wonders, bushy brows pinched and burly arms crossed over his chest. “I feel like I’ve seen you before—”
“Ugh. Stop flirting with her.”
“I’m asking a question!”
You purse your lips to the side in attempts to hide your smile and your gaze back to your book. 
They argue like a married couple. You wonder how long they’ve been together — six months or six years?
“Sorry about him. He’s not usually this annoying,” Robin quips with a playful twinkle in her deep ocean eye. She slams the book closed with a ringed handand walks back towards you. She pushes Steve ahead and away from you in the process. “Alright, I got the goods. Let’s go before they close.”
Your eyes widen as you look down at your wrist. 
Ten minutes until eight o’clock. 
You turn to the book once more and find that you’re about a hundred pages shy from the end of it. You tend to read like a maniac if you’re focused enough, but there’s no way you’re finishing it before closing.
“Shit…”
“You okay?” Steve asks, still lingering at the very end of the aisle, though Robin has already left for check-out.
You rise and straighten out your clothes — the very un-special sweatshirt and baggy jeans duo you’d changed into after work. It’s not unlike the navy blue henley and similarly colored denim he’s got on, but you don’t look nearly as pretty as he does.
“Yeah,” you shrug, not quite meeting his gaze as you return the book that feels like it only fits in your hands. “I just— I didn’t realize how late it was.”
You don’t expect to see Steve looking so concerned when you turn back to him. His brows are furrowed, honey eyes glinting in question. “You’re not getting it? You looked like you were almost done.”
“Oh, I don’t— I can’t…” you stammer then trail off, fidgeting awkwardly ahead of him. 
You don’t want this pretty boy’s first impression of you to be that you’re completely and utterly broke. Even if this is the last you ever see of him, you’ll only be remembered as that one girl from the bookstore who couldn’t buy herself anything. 
“I figured I could just come buy tomorrow and finish it…”
“Oh. Okay. Well, it was… it was nice meeting you, then.”
“You, too,” you murmur with a tightlipped smile, eager to get away from a moment you don’t feel very deserving of. 
Out of every girl this pretty boy could’ve chosen, why did it have to be the one in the very back of the bookstore who was too poor to get anything other than a free coffee and bagel? 
You chuck both in the bin as you head towards the exit.
The sun has almost finished setting when you leave — mostly disappeared over the skyline, but painting the sky a deep lavender shade unique to the twilight hour. You stand at the crosswalk — the man on the speaker shouting “wait!” at your side — as you anticipate the orange hand across the street to turn into a white stick figure.
“I told you she’d still be here,” a familiar voice sounds from a few paces behind you, mostly drowned out by the sounds of passing cars. A louder “hey!” follows. You only think the voice might be calling for you until it comes closer. 
“Hey!” It comes again, louder now.
You look over your shoulder and find Steve from the Bookstore striding towards you. 
Both happy and confused to see him, your wavering smile is paired with a pair of furrowed brows. “Hey…”
“Sorry, you just— you left this.”
When your eyes manage to flit away from his sculpted face — which you just noticed looks eerily similar to Michelangelo’s David — you find that he’s holding a book in his hands. Handmaid’s Tale. The same copy you were reading, dog-eared just like you left it.
Your contorted features never falter. “I didn’t…” you trail off with the shake of your head, laughing softly. “I didn’t buy that.”
“No, I know,” Steve shrugs with a crooked grin. “I did.”
You think he might be implying he bought it for you, but then you realize that’s crazy, because why would he do that for you? That’s the sort of thing that happens to girls in Brontë novels, not to you.
“Youdid?” you echo like an idiot because it’s all you can think to say.
“Yeah. ‘Cause, you know, you looked pretty interested in it and everything…”
“But you didn’t have to… You didn’t have to buy it for me—”
“It’s not a big deal. Seriously. I mean, it’ll save you the extra trip down here tomorrow, right?”
You meet his confident grin with a trembling one. “I can’t take it…”
“Well, if you don’t take it, that means I have to keep it, and—”
“He’s pretty much illiterate,” Robin calls from a little ways behind him.
She’s waiting by a pretty maroon car. It looks like a luxury model of some kind, shiny like it’s fresh off the lot. She leans against it like it’s hers, but Steve’s got the keys in his hand — the one not holding the book he bought for you.
“…I was gonna say I haven’t read anything since junior year of high school, but sure,” he concedes with a shrug. His eyes sparkle down at you— or maybe it’s just the street lamps flickering on. Either way, you feel your stomach whirling. He waves the book at you. “Take it. You’ll actually read it.”
“But…” you trail off, eyes flickering over to Robin. You step closer to Steve and lean in like you’re about to tell him a secret. “Won’t your girlfriend be upset?”
“Girlfriend?” the boy repeats with pinched brows. He goes soft with realization a second later, then starts to laugh. “No. Robin, she’s— No. She’s not really my type.”
“Oh. Shit. Sorry,” you stammer with wide eyes. 
If cool, pretty girls aren’t his type, then there’s no way in hell you are. 
Slightly comforted by his assurances, when he motions the book to you again, you take it. 
“Well, thank you, Steve. That’s… That’s really nice.”
He shrugs again. “’S no big deal. Really.”
“But I feel a little bad,” you confess quietly, peeking at him from beneath your lashes while you fidget with the book in your anxious hands. “I feel like I should give you something in return, or, I don’t know, like—”
“You don’t have to do anything,” Steve assures with the shake of his head. He swipes a hand through the chocolate-honey locks and flashes you a smile that borders on shy. “But if you wanted to go out for coffee or something sometime, then I’d be willing to call it even.”
Your cheeks burn. You don’t know if you’re breathing anymore, or if you even can. A quiet smile quirks at the corner of your mouth as you nod. “Coffee sounds good,” you answer sheepishly.
“Cool,” Steve replies coolly, like he isn’t totally beaming down at you. “Then, just… call me whenever you’re free.”
“Oh, I don’t— I don’t have your number.”
His sneakers scuff against the sidewalk as he walks backwards to his car. He just nods at you, smiling gently as he argues, “Yeah, you do.”
Your brows furrow in confusion — because you most certainly don’t. He was a stranger to you a little more than ten minutes ago. You have no reason to have his number. 
Realization settles over you like pinpricks down your spine, butterflies in your belly. 
You open the front cover of the book and find several numbers written down at the very bottom of the cover page.
Call me when you finish, the note reads in half-legible chicken scratch. I’m not really a book guy, but I could probably hear you talk about them all day.
He signs off with his name, number, and a sloppy smiley face. 
You don’t realize you’re beaming until you already are. 
When you look back up at Steve, you find him standing at the open driver’s side door, already smiling back at you.
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daydreaming-nerd · 4 months
Note
for the bat boys (or bat boys x feyre), I really wanna see rhys just tied down, desperate, and overwhelmed with pleasure. like everybody just decides to show their high lord some love!! I wanna see rhys in tears (in a good way), and they just praise him and love on him so good!! I can def see rhys having a major praise kink. feel free to ignore tho, thank you!!💖
Our Girl (Bat Boys! x Female! Reader) 
Based off this ask as well
AN: HAHAHA guys I’ve been reading The L.O.R.D.S series by Shantel Tessier and I’ve been fucking loving it. Also I wrote the second half of this in a fucking Barnes and Noble cafe, I was SWEATING, but I wanted to get it done for you because I have some cool Az stuff I’m working on for you!
Summary: When Rhysand becomes High Lord the boys find themselves too busy and too well known to visit their local pleasure house. So they hire the reader to to satisfy their needs.
Warnings: Smut (shocker),sub/dom dynamic, dirty talk, bondage, threesome, objectification, size difference??
Word count: 6,058
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Things in Velaris were changing. The second the new High Lord rose to power it was like things were lighter. Shops stayed open later, the people laughed and drank at dinner more often, everything was just better. Yet in the Riverhouse at the edge of the city it seemed there were clouds stirring, in a metaphorical way of course. 
No one had seen Rhysand since the night his father died, which was months ago. 
The most powerful High Lord.
The most dangerous High Lord. 
The most handsome High Lord
And known by the girls at the pleasure house…the most well endowed High Lord.
At least what all my coworkers were whispering around me the day I was brought to the front by the mistress who ran the place. In all honesty I thought I was in trouble, not that I had done anything wrong in the past year I had been here. But no one ever got called to her office for nothing. 
I closed the door behind me to where my mistress was reading a letter, a violet wax seal stamped to the front. Her red hair and red gown complimented the scarlett of her office, of the whole pleasure house really. She claimed it was the color of passion, and demanded that we all practically bathe in it. 
“You asked to see me?” I say timidly. 
I couldn’t afford to lose this job, I had no family, no support system. Nothing to rely on or depend on. Sure it wasn’t the most prestigious career, but I did like it. I had always been interested in sex, fascinated with it really. The woman who lived next door to my family growing up was a sex worker. She always wore the most beautiful gowns and jewels, and lured the most handsome men to her home. My mother cursed me when I said I wanted to look like her one day but I didn’t care. 
“Yes I have a letter here, from the High Lord,” she says, showing me the letter she had been reading when I walked in. 
My eyes widen and the air is sucked from my lungs. What could the High Lord want with the house? Hell, what would the High Lord want with me? 
“The High Lord?” I gawk, taking a step forward attempting to catch a glance at the letter. 
She puts her glasses back down on her nose and reads the paper again, “yes, he asks that I send my very best girl to his townhouse at my earliest convenience.” 
“And you’re picking me?” I ask, my eyes wide. 
“You rake in more money than all the rest of the girls, you’re beautiful, elegant and well versed. I can think of no one better.” she explains setting the letter down on the desk.
My mind swirls, what does the High Lord want? Well sex of course, but I wasn’t one for house calls. Though I suppose he was the High Lord , he couldn’t very well walk in here with the anonymity that others could. 
“Well don’t just stand there!” my mistress shouts. “Go to the townhouse before he thinks me to be a simple fool.” 
I jilt from my thoughts and nod, walking briskly out the door. I bypass the other girls who are chatting about the High Lord and I wonder if any of them are aware of the letter that was sent, what his intentions might be. I guess there’s only one way to find out. 
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I had watched the townhouse on the hill my entire life, knew that the High Lord lived there, and constantly wondered what it might be like inside. It was like the scary house at the end of the street that children stayed away from; it had been built up to that mythical status. Except it wasn’t scary—unless you counted scarily prestigious.
As I walked up the front steps and knocked on the door a woman with dark skin and   darker hair opened it and signaled for me to come in. The lush, thick, carpets gave reprieve to my aching feet. Stilettos on cobblestone was never a good idea, but what else did one wear to meet their High Lord? 
She gestured to a set of double doors at the end of the hall. I took in my surroundings, for what it was worth the place was beautiful. Ornate but tasteful. Expensive but lived in. I can see why the High Lord never left. I took a deep breath but before I could even knock on the doors a deep voice, one that could only be described as Night Triumphant, beckoned me to enter. 
I creaked open the door to find the High Lord busily doing paperwork at his desk. He was nothing and everything that I had expected. When the girls at the home whispered of his looks, his charm, I thought of something mythical. But the male before me? He transcended even that. 
His legendary violet eyes flitted up to mine and I swore my breath caught in my throat. He sat his papers down to the side as he stood, bracing his hands on his desk. If his height didn’t make me feel small the sheer power radiating off of him did. 
“My, my,” he croons, rounding the desk to lean against the front. “You are exquisite,” he says, crossing his strong arms in front of his chest. 
I suddenly remember the reason I was summoned here in the first place and I put on the mask, the role I was supposed to play. 
“Well my Lord, you asked for the very best.” I say smoothly taking two steps towards him. “So here I am.” 
“While I love the way ‘my Lord’ rolls off that pretty tongue, feel free to call me Rhysand, you’re going to be here for a while.” he smirked, and I swore there was a star that flashed in his eye. 
I nearly gulped at his words. 
You’re going to be here for a while…
I had been with needy men before, made a career out of it. But this was no man, and I wondered if I could keep up with him. 
“As you wish,” I say nodding my  head obediently. Males like him strived for dominance, it was my job to anticipate that. 
I feel a hand tilt my chin up and once again I’m met with his intense gaze. I was right about the stars, his eyes were littered with them. 
“The selfish part of me wants to play with you right now, but I have a feeling my brothers would be more than angry at me for having you first,” he smirked, his breath so hot on my face I almost jumped when I realized how close he was to me. 
Wait, the High Lord didn’t have brothers, he was an only child, an orphan really. “Brothers?” I ask, the question had slipped out before I could think of a better more professional way to ask. 
“Well not my biological brothers, but my brothers in arms I suppose,” he smirks, releasing my chin taking a step back towards his desk again. “Cassian, the general of my armies and Azriel my spymaster.” 
My breath gets caught in my throat. I had heard stories of the High Lord’s most trusted members of his court. They were large, Illyrian, and death on swift wings. My face must’ve given away my shock as Rhysand let out a low chuckle. 
“Don’t worry they won’t hurt you. They are to care for you as I do, it’s all written here in your contract,” he explained, sitting down and sliding a piece of paper over the desk. 
I made myself comfortable in the seat opposite of him, plucking the paper from the desk and skimming it over.
“You see,”  he begins. “Becoming High Lord has been rewarding but…well…tiring. Cassian and Azriel are just as tired. We aren’t given the same anonymity we had in our youth which has made finding sexual release difficult.” he said, his cheeks blushing slightly. 
“You’ll live here, I already have a room prepared for you. I’ll provide you with a salary  and provide for you in any way you need. In return you provide us with your…services?” he says the last word like he can’t think of a better way to say it. How is he sexy reading my contract to me?
I set the contract on the desk, “And what are the parameters of these services?” I ask leaning forward on the desk. 
Rhysand smiles leaning forward with me, “Mostly we will seek you out on our own but there will be certain times, like tonight, where we will want to share,” he grins like he can already see the scene. 
I nod slowly waiting for him to add anything else and he does. 
“Of course there will be safewords, though I doubt you will need them. Your mistress said you have a rather large palette,” he says and I get his meaning immediately. 
I can’t help but blush, the male already knows more about me than I do him. Something that rarely ever happens in my line of work.
“She didn’t mislead you,” I say, my lips tugging into a small smile. 
“Then you’ll take the job?” he asks plucking a fountain pen from its resting place. 
I look at the large number with lots of zeros written under ‘Salary’, it’s more than I make in three months. I could pay off all my debts with the first two paychecks, and after that? Well the shops of Velaris wouldn’t know what hit them. I could have the life I always dreamed of, expensive silks, fancy soaps, wine aged for thousands of years. And all I had to do was sleep with the three most powerful males in the Night Court. What female could possibly say no?
“I will,” I say, plucking the pen out of the High Lord’s hands singing the marked places next to his ornate signature. 
I look up to see Rhysand already staring at me, with a lust I hadn’t seen before, not in any male. How long had it been since he had sex?
He stands holding his hand out to me, “Allow me to show you to your room.”
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“Are you ready to meet them?” Rhys asks with a glint in his violet eyes. 
I nod.
“Good I’ll go preface in, come in when I call you,” he smiles, pressing a kiss to my brow. 
Gods this man was incredible. Paycheck aside, I think I would bend over backwards just to hear him call me a good girl again. Something told me I would be doing just that for the foreseeable future. 
Rhysand opened the double doors and slipped in, the moment he closed it I pressed my ear to the door so that I could hear him. 
“Rhys what’s this about? I have business to attend to,” I hear a deep voice rumble. 
Rhys’ signature chuckle echoes off the walls, “I assure you Cassian that this is well worth your time.” he says. “Az you look tense,” he jests. 
“That’s because I am.” groans another voice. “We’ve been running all around the court righting all wrongs while you sit holed up in here doing paperwork.” 
“As I am well aware,” Rhys starts again. “And I don’t want to be known as the High Lord that merely takes, especially from the two males  I consider to be my brothers. So, I got you a little gift.” 
A pause of anticipatory silence fills the room. 
“Darling won’t you come out now?” Rhys beckons me. 
I open the door to find Rhys standing before two Illyrians sitting on the couch, both of them relaxed like this was their own home, and perhaps it was. 
“Huh?” asked the slightly larger one, with longer black hair. 
“She’s your gift, well, our gift,” Rhys said, pulling a hand around my waist. “I just hired her from the pleasure house in town, she is the best of the best. I know we all haven’t been able to visit the establishment since I came into power and I’m sure you’re both just as…frustrated as I am.” 
“How long do we have her for?” the same Illyrian asked, the one beside him seemingly more quiet. 
“She will be living with us. Use her as you’d like. Dress her however you want, but keep it classy. She’s as much yours as she is mine” Rhys smiles tilting my chin to meet his gaze and I swore my knees trembled a bit. “Though I’m sure she’ll remember who pays her?” he teases. 
“Yes my Lord,” I say seductively, it used to be an act, but not anymore. 
“My Lord,” he repeats. “I quite like the sound of that,” he purrs, looking over to the males sitting on the couch. 
The one with the red siphons smirks, throwing his arms over the back of the couch and spreading his legs. His thighs alone were the size of my head and I couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to get myself off on them alone. 
“Come here princess, sit on my lap,” he purrs, patting his thigh. 
I slip out of Rhysand’s grasp and pad over to perch myself on the Illyrians leg. The rippling muscles under me tensing. His hand comes up to brush a stray hair from my face as he takes in every inch of me. 
“You are a pretty little thing aren’t you?” he smirks as his other hand comes to support my back. 
Oh I was in for it, I was so in for it. 
“She’s the best of the best, her name is y/n.” Rhysand drawls watching intently as his brother who I have deciphered is Cassian, inspects me. “We decided earlier that her safeword will be starlight,”
“Y/n, huh?” he smiles brushing a stray hair from my face as he drinks in my attire, something Rhysand had clearly purchased for me to wear tonight. A black sheer little nightgown. Revealing, yet classy like he has said. It was clear to me that the male had exquisite taste. 
I feel a warm leather bump into my back as a scarred hand runs over my shoulder. I crane my neck up to find Azriel standing above me, from where he stands he can no doubt get a great view of my tits. 
“How should we thank dear old Rhysand for this marvelous present?” Cassian asks Azriel and the shadow singers eyes gleam.
“Oh I can think of a few ways,” he smirks. 
As if they all had one mind we were winnowed to the bedroom upstairs, my bedroom I realized. The bed had been made big enough for all of us, and I wonder how empty it would feel when the boys weren’t around. 
I look around me, the positions of us all haven’t changed. I find myself gazing up at Azriel, the hungry look in his eye has me taking a step back only to bump right into Cassian earning a chuckle from the general.  A glace to my bed has me seeing Rhysand sitting on it’s edge. 
“Az,” Cassian mumbles, sharing a knowing look at the shadow singer.
Before I can put together the pieces of Cassian and Azriel’s interaction, bands of shadows shoot from all over the room wrapping themselves around the hands and wrists of the High Lord. Rhys struggles for a moment, like it's second nature before he gives in, his face stern. 
“Az that’s enough,” he scowls. 
Azriel brushes off the command and turns my chin to meet his gaze. His finger brushes over my  bottom lip and I close my top lip over his thumb, giving it a gentle experimental suck. His eyes darken and the next thing I know I’m sucking on his thumb and looking at him like a doe eyed fool. 
“What a good girl she is,” he croons before dragging my face to him, replacing his thumb with his lips. 
His kiss and deep and searing, like nothing I’ve ever tasted before. His hands come to cup my face, keeping me there as he kisses me like a starved male. Gods, how long had it been since any of them had sex?
My hair is pushed to the side as I feel the general begin to leave sloppy kisses on my neck. He pulls my hips toward him, and I’m met with his hard on pressed to my back and his bare chest warming my skin. Azriel steps back with love drunk eyes and Cassian takes his opportunity to turn my hips so I’m facing him. 
Somehow he’s even more hulking and intimidating when bare. My eyes glance over the expanse of well built muscles to where his cock is already hard and leaking, and by the size of it I could tell I would be sore tomorrow. 
From behind me I can hear the faint unclasping of buckles signaling that Azriel is mimicking Cassian’s movements. 
“Let’s see you now, little one,” the general smirks before sliding both straps of the see through the gown off my shoulders. The black mesh falls to a pool of fabric on the floor and I’m laid bare for him, for all of them. 
A snap reverberates through the room pulling my attention to Rhysand, his sophisticated garb now long gone. The plains of his toned muscles and swirling tattoos that resemble his brothers on full display along with his aching cock. He’s even more marvelous nude than he is clothed. His lips tug up at the corner as he sees me eye fucking him. 
Cassian’s hand goes under my bare breast bringing my attention back to him, it seems that while I was ogling Rhys, he was studying me. 
“Rhys you’ve outdone yourself,” Cassian smirks and I’ve never felt so exposed. “Her tits are perfect,” he smiles before bending down to suckle an aching nipple into his mouth. 
I moan and lean back ever so slightly into a muscled chest, when I open my eyes Azriel stares down at me. A scarred hand drifts over my shoulder, down my side, and across my bum until it cups my sex and I gasp. 
Cassian’s lips smile against my breast before he moves on to the next one, my breath catching in my throat once again. 
“So small,” Azriel teases, referring to my cunt. “I’m not sure she can take us.” The glint in his eye tells me that this is a challenge, a test. 
“I can,” I say confidently and the shadowsinger laughs. 
“I think I’ll test that out,” Cassian grumbles, taking me in his arms. 
I’m pulled from Azriel’s fiery touch as the warmth of Cassian seeps into me. For the first time in a while my eyes snap to Rhysand. His brow was laced with sweat, as well as the skin on his chest. 
“Oh poor Rhys, did you want to touch her?” Azriel taunted, I was honestly surprised that they would dare to put their High Lord in this position. 
“Please,” Rhysand whimpered, making my heart lurch. 
Did  the most powerful High Lord, the most dangerous High Lord. the most handsome High Lord, the most well endowed High Lord… just beg? 
A sudden boost of confidence fills my chest. 
“Az pull him back on the bed, I’m going to be needing some room,” Cassian boasts massaging circles on my hips. 
Rhysand is pulled to the headboard, the shadows on his wrists pulling his arms out to either side as well as the ones on his ankles, preventing him from getting any sort of friction. The High Lord cursed, as if the brief fiction on his balls from being dragged across the sheets might’ve been enough to get him off.  The logical part of me knew that he could break free of these restraints at any given moment, hells the power practically radiated off of him. But he was here to play the game and I was too. 
“Why don’t you go play with your High Lord a little bit sweetheart,” Cassian croons, clearly loving the power trip he’s on. I take two steps forward before the general grabs me by the throat hauling me to his chest again. I look up at him like a love sick fool. “But stay clear of his cock. He’ll be the last to cum tonight. Doesn’t that seem fair Az?” 
“Seems more than fair to me, seeing as we’ve been doing all the flying around these past few weeks,” Azriel chuckles. 
Cassian releases my throat and I make my way over to the breathless High Lord. It takes everything in me not to straddle him and take him right there. His cock was red, angry, practically begging for it.
I sit on the edge of the bed to his right giving him my best bedroom eyes. Gone was the cocky male from earlier who made all sorts of promises of bedding me the best. Instead a male stripped to his most vulnerable sat before me, chest heaving, eyes wild. The muscles of his arms and legs flexing and bulging from trying to break free of the shadows that bound him, the bindings that made him this way. 
“They aren’t being very fair to you are they?” I say seductively trailing a hand down his shoulders, over the plains of his chest and to his abs. 
He shudders under my touch, “no they aren’t,” he breathes. 
“Mmm,” I hum, placing a kiss on his neck, even the thin sheen of sweat on him tasted divine. “And you were so nice, sharing your little fuck toy with them and now they won’t let me play with you,” I say donning a fake sadness. 
My hand brushes over his hip bone and down his thigh, carefully avoiding the hard erection begging to be brushed. 
“Please,” he whimpers his lips hot on my cheek, and I swear I hear Cassian and Azriel chuckle behind me. 
My hand swoops to his inner thigh, teasing the muscles there. His whimper has me caving, and I feel as though I’m suddenly not acting of my own accord as my hand wanders towards his cock. 
“Ah, ah, ah!” I hear Cassian tut before scooping  me into his arms and pulling me away from Rhys. Causing the latter to groan in frustration. 
“Using daemati to get a female to jerk you off? That’s a new low for you, Rhys.” Azriel chuckles 
Daemati. That would explain why I didn’t feel like I was in control for that one moment. I had heard that the High Lord possessed such powers, but I thought they were simply myths. 
I feel myself being bent over the storage bench at the end of the bed, the cloth covered fluff cushioning my knees and hands as I feel a harsh slap to my bum. 
“Fuck this is going to be so good,” Cassian murmurs from behind me. 
Azriel stands at the other end of the bench fisting his cock but before he can speak Cassian enters me. 
“Oh Gods!” I scream as I feel myself being pushed forward on my hands. 
The stretch of the general filling me so completely had me wondering if Azriel was right about my ability to take them all earlier. Cassian’s hands come to pull me down onto him, as if he needed the help to fully sheathe himself. One hand on my lower back, one on my hip.
“Shit she’s so fuckin’ tight,” Cassian groans as he begins to rock into me.
“Please, please,” Rhysand begs from his spot on the bed. 
I don’t even bother to see the new beads of sweat dripping from his brow, the drops of precum leaking out of his painfully hard cock. Hell, I can’t even think about anything other than the feeling of Cassian picking up the pace behind me. 
“Shh Rhys, I’m enjoying this tight little pus,” Cassian groans, tightening his hold on my hips. 
My arms are starting to go limp when Azriel’s hand tilts my chin up so he can see my fucked out face. 
“Open your mouth little one,” he says, fisting his cock and I obey like a puppet on a string. “What a good girl,” he smirks before tapping his cock on my outstretched tongue. 
“Fuck her mouth Az,” Cassian groans doubling down on his thrusts behind me. 
“You’re such an obedient little thing, I think I’m going to have a lot of fun with you.” he croons before thrusting his cock inside my mouth. 
The general’s relentless hammering shoves Azriel’s cock down my throat in perfect tandem and I start to wonder if there are other females who have found themselves in my position. With the way they fuck both ends of me so efficiently I wouldn’t doubt it.
It isn’t until my drool is falling down my face mixing with my tears that Azriel grips my hair forcing me down on his cock more. The male became more needy than he had been all night as his soft grunts filled the room. My eyes flitted to his hazel ones and a self satisfied smirk crossed his face. 
“You like this don’t you? You like being fucked in both your little holes?” He teases me, pulling my hair harder. 
His words have me whimpering around him and curling my toes. The spymaster was right, I loved this. That I could make these males, the most powerful in the Night Court, so feral, so unhinged. 
Cassain chuckles behind me slapping my ass again, “Too bad we don’t have someone to fuck this third hole back here,” he says taunting Rhys as I feel him trace a finger over that said third hole. 
“Fuck,” Rhys hisses from where Azriel has him restrained, watching the show they’re giving him. 
I feel my legs starting to tremble beneath me and as they start to give out Cassian swipes both hands under my hips to keep me upright. So upright my knees don't even touch the bench anymore allowing him to fuck me harder, deeper, and faster.
“You going to cum little one?” Cassian taunts me, picking up the pace a bit. 
My whine is enough to have Azriel slamming his hips into my face, spilling himself down my throat as my nose brushes the hair at the base of his cock. For a moment I can’t breathe at all, as I feel his seed spill over my tongue. When he pulls out I finally take in a deep breath, which is short lived as he grabs my chin forcing me to meet his gaze again. 
“Swallow,” he orders. 
I do as I’m told, feeling the thick white ropes slide down my throat, warming my stomach. 
His thumb tugs my jaw down forcing my mouth open as he makes sure every last drop is gone. When he’s satisfied he closes my mouth and gives my cheek a light slap, “good girl.” he mutters. 
“Finally,” Cassian breathes and I feel my front being shoved into the cushions on the bench before me, allowing Cassian to drive deeper. It seems his brother's use of my mouth was quite the inconvenience for him.
I make eye contact with Rhys who's painting and sweating. Moans and curses fall from his lips as he watches Cassian take me hard. It’s not long until I’m cumming around his cock.
“Oh gods!” I scream feeling my legs shake and the knot in my stomach unwind as I cum all over the general’s cock. 
Cassian growls, deep and primal, before delivering one last thrust, spilling himself into me, “That’s a good girl. Take it, take all of it.” he groans, forcing my body down. 
As the Illyrian pulls out of me I can feel my heart beating in my throat and in my head. My chest rises and falls in time with my shaking legs. But I know I’m not done, not while Rhysand looks at me like I’m water and he’s been wandering the deserts of summer for too long.
“You were so good, Rhys,” Cassian taunts, running his hand down the High Lord’s leg making his chest rise faster. “We just wanted to thank you for your wonderful gift, didn’t we Az?” 
Azriel nodded next to me, his scarred hands pulling me up  by my shoulders and then  hoisting me up by my thighs so my back was to his front. The position was more than awkward, but as he placed me on his High Lord’s shaking lap I understood why. 
“Make him feel real good princess, we love our Rhysie,” Azriel laughs upon seeing Rhys breath picking up. Despite his words he kept his restraints on the Lord, one last test. 
I place my hands on his chest, the skin there cold and clammy, and I can’t help but want to feel more. His eyes are blown out, and I feel as though he’s looking right through me. He’s a vision like this, maybe even more so than when he was sitting behind his desk looking like sheer power. He was vulnerable here. 
I run a hand down his face like I’m unable to help it and his eyes widen, “So handsome my Lord,” I breathe. “What do you want from me?” I ask as I press my lips to his.
He can hardly kiss back, can hardly even think besides anything but the need. Beside him his brothers run a hand through his hair and whisper praises to him, trying to bring him back. 
“Anything p-please, t-touch me,” he whimpers and I swear I see a tear roll down his face.  From not being touched at all, to being touched everywhere but where he needs most, the High Lord was being pushed to his limits. 
“Yes my Lord,” I whisper before sinking myself on his cock. 
Where Cassian was thicker, Rhysand was long, digging so deep into me that I felt a pinch as he brushed my cervix. The pain bringing me back from the fuck out haze the spymaster and the general left me in. 
Rhysand hissed low, “Oh fuck yes,” he groans pushing his head back on the headboard. 
Cassian’s hand comes up to brush the fallen hair and sweat from his High Lord’s head, “She’s a tight little thing isn’t she?” he asks, pressing a kiss to his temple. 
I splay my hands across Rhys’ chest, trying to give myself the leverage needed to bounce myself up and down on his cock. The slow drag of him inside of me has me scrunching my eyes shut trying to savor every sensation. My shaking legs make it hard to move myself up and down. 
“More, p-please,” Rhysand groans, his voice dropping deeper and starting to resemble the tone I heard this afternoon. 
“Az give her a hand,” Cassian instructs from where he sits by Rhys. 
I feel Azriel settle in behind me, his warm chest bumping against the clammy skin of my back. His hands lift my hips helping me to bounce up and down like I’m nothing but a cocksleeve. The motion makes me gasp and writhe as I’m able to settle to a faster and more stable pace. 
“Oh fuck Az,” Rhysand bites out. “I can’t,” he groans and I watch the muscles of his chest and arms go taut as he pulls on the shadowy bindings that keep him from touching me. 
The strain in his arms and chest is so great that I can see each individual muscle the Lord had built through the years. I couldn’t help but run my hands over him feeling each one. 
“Let him go Az,” Cassian instructs the shadowsinger and within seconds the bindings are gone, like even Az wanted to see what his High Lord would do next. 
Rhysand’s hands fall from the headboard and find their way to my hips. Turns out him not being able to touch me was a punishment for both of us. He shifts his hips so I fall forward, and he connects his lips to mine as he thrusts up into me, putting me at his mercy.
He consumes my mouth fully, running his hands up and down my sides greedily before squeezing my breast making me moan into his mouth. The way he kisses me tells me that I’m no longer in charge and neither is anyone else in this room for that matter. 
His lips detach from mine and fall to my neck leaving opened mouthed kisses there. His hands leave bruises in the skin of my hips as he slams up into me, his cock hitting my cervix with each stroke, those initial stings of pain becoming pleasure. 
“Oh fuck Rhys,” I moan completely forgetting his title. 
“Say it again,” he growls, his voice dangerously low. “Let them know who owns you!” 
I had completely forgotten about the other Illyrians in the room with us. I glance to the side to find Azriel fisting his cock beside me. When I don’t moan the Lord name again a swift slap comes across my ass. 
“Rhysand!” I cry out, feeling the euphoria of him. 
“Fuck it,” he seethes and before I register what he means by it, my back hits the mattress. 
The new position gives him a new range of motion to piston into me. Somehow he’s able to hit me even deeper this way.  Causing me to let out wanton cries and moans as he fucks me, my polished nails scraping down his back trying to find purchase. 
“Yeah Rhys get it!” Cassian cheers from the edge of the bed. 
The taunt makes the High Lord feral, slamming his hips into me. He’s more animal than man at this point having been teased all night. The near primal growl he lets out has me cumming on his cock, my back arching off the back, my moan guttural. 
My cunt squeezes his cock as pleasure lights up my body like lightning, and it isn’t long until  I feel his hips stutter as he cums inside of me with a groan. 
“Oh fuck yes,” his voice is like gravel as I feel him spilling inside of me endlessly, his seed joining Cassian’s. 
Faintly, through the roaring in my ears I can hear Cassian and Azriel’s grunts as well as they finish. The idea of them getting off to their High Lord cumming inside of me is almost enough to make me beg him to do it again. But as he collapses beside me I feel how spent I truly am. 
Rhys hand comes to brush back my hair from my face as he places a kiss to my temple, “Such a good girl for us,” he says to me before turning to Cassian again, “Go get her a towel and a glass of water.” he orders, clearly re-assuming his role as the High Lord. 
He spends the next minute or so running a hand over my hair as he cradles me to his chest soothing me. My breath starts to slow and I feel a warm towel beneath my legs as Cassian wipes away the mess they both made. Glass touches my lips as Rhys helps me to drink the water brought to me. Whatever I don’t finish he downs in one go. 
“Leave us,” he orders pulling the covers over our cold and clammy bodies. 
“What no post sex cuddles for me?” Cassian laughs, throwing up his hands. I laugh before placing a kiss on Rhys chest, as much as I wouldn’t mind all three of them holding me right now I know who pays my bills now. 
“Fine,” Rhys huffs, throwing back the covers behind me so Cass can slip in. 
I wonder where Azriel will lie, but when my eyes search for him he’s already out the door walking to his own room undoubtedly. Something tells me he’s different from his two brothers, he’s quiet, but the words he told me earlier have me wondering what’s up his sleeve.
Cassian’s arms curl around me, and eventually the three of us fall asleep. But the voice that swims through my head as sleep takes me is Azriel’s.
I think I’m going to have a lot of fun with you…
(This is going to be a series! I think I'll do one for each bat boy! If you want to be tagged let me know and if there's any kinky shit you wanna see let me know in the comments or drop it in my inbox!)
Taglist: @yearninglustfully, @moviesismylife,  @readingislife2006, @bookishbroadwaybish, @danikamariemain,  @winchesterbbygrl
Permanent Taglist: @fides25, @dissociated-always @crystalferret202, @batboyrhyrhy , @kennedy-brooke , @sunshineangel-reads , @lilah-asteria , @evergreenlark
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bloomzone · 3 months
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GLOW UP DIARY:#2 LOVE YOURSELF FIRST
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" It's everyone's first time living this life, how can you be good right from the start? Even I'm still having a hard time."
- Hoshi (seventeen)
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heyy sparkles...so today it's the second part of the glow up diary..btw thank you so so much for the support in the first part "mindset is everything" I'm looking forward to update more part !!
©: bloomzone
#2 SELF LOVE
✉️:first of all sweetie self-love is the practice of appreciating and caring for yourself through actions that support your physical, emotional, and mental well-being. It involves self-acceptance, positive self-talk
Self-love is the first step to a happier life.
﹙ ✿ ﹚ being beautiful mean being yourself you don't need to be accepted by others you need to accept yourself your features are so so so beautiful you don't even know how u look in eyes of a stranger. Ur nose is in the right shape ur skin is so pretty no matter the color is ur eyes are so pretty ur height is perfect ur hair color is breathtaking u don't need to fit any beauty standards to be THAT GIRL and stuff,those imperfections like acnes scars body hair they don't change u they don't define your beauty you are beautiful inside and out ..
HOW TO BUILD SELF ACCEPTANCE
𝜗𝜚- accept yourself just as you are your flaws the good and bad replace self jugement with self acceptance take a paper or just if u have a diary or journal and write I LOVE MYSELF I ACCEPT MYSELF THE WAY I AM . 💌
𝜗𝜚- write down in ur diary/ journal/note app in the end of the day "how you feel",it helps u release emotions, reducing stress and anxiety. It encourages self-reflection, leading to better understanding of your thoughts and feelings. 💞
𝜗𝜚- daily affirmations is important always compliment yourself like "I love myself the way I am" "my body is perfect" "I accept myself"...🎀
𝜗𝜚- Notice negative self-talk and challenge it by questioning its validity and replacing it with more realistic and positive thoughts never talk sh about urself bbg ;)
𝜗𝜚- watch this video (click here) it will help u so so so much <3
𝜗𝜚- meditate,spend more time outside, listen to your favorite playlist, don't forget to not listen to what other say about you just focus on u and how ur body work .. You are more than a beautiful face, you are intelligent, compassionate, and an all-around wonderful person. Don't let anyone take away your shine.⭐
𝜗𝜚- Always remember that you are worthy and don't change who you are for anyone stay true to yourself and never doubt how beautiful you truly are. Keep smiling and remember that you are so loved and special. You light up every room and liam proud of you and don't let anyyyyyyyooooone let u down "look she is more pretty than" who care say I'm also pretty and everyone is different .💗
ıllı ⠀ : ⠀take care of yourself u are not alone n you are special xoxo .♡ ⠀ !!
©bloomzone !
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strang3lov3 · 12 days
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Lavender
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You receive a pleasurable massage from Ezra. (4.1k)
Tags - smut, massages, unethical!ezra, softest of soft!dom, wax play, hands in places hands shouldn't be, teasing, fingering, oral (f! receiving) masturbation, ezra creams his pants #creamernation, slight dom vibes from ezra, chamomille tea, ezra is a silvertongued menace, light foot action - assume reader has clean tootsies. Fic help - @endlessthxxghts and @beefrobeefcal thank you both for holding my hand through this!!! and for hyping me up, and for being the best part of my day!!! LOVE YOU!!! A/N - hey hey motherfuckers 😛 I hope you enjoy! First time writing Ezra and it’s for my beautiful @noxturnalpascal’s birthday that was a couple weeks ago 🩷 patti i'm not sorry for what i've done. also i love you.
After a sixteen hour drive back home from visiting your family, you’re in nothing but pain. There’s an awful, pinching feeling at your lower back, your hips and knees ache, and your neck is sore. Even laying down in your bed hurts. 
You try a couple of different solutions to remedy yourself. Ice pack, heating pad - you never know when you’re supposed to use one or the other. You try stretching, yoga, and increasing your water intake. But after four days of agony, you’ve had it. 
There’s a light-purple colored piece of cardstock that’s been hung up on your fridge by a magnet for the last few months. It’s a gift certificate to a spa called Lavender, you won it in a raffle at a charity drag show. 
Call (212) 929-5804 to schedule a 90 minute massage of your choice, and please bring this voucher with you to your appointment. 
I look forward to pleasuring you. 
-Ezra
You feel a flutter in your gut as you read those words: pleasuring you. Fuck, you’re so touch starved, and you begin to imagine what this Ezra could look like. You’re getting ahead of yourself. Before you get lost in your dirty thoughts about a massage therapist you’ve never even met before, you need to book an appointment. When you flip the card over, you see a list of services offered by Ezra. Massages of all kinds - chakra balancing, prenatal, PMS, stress-relief, hot stone, cupping, deep tissue. You’re not really sure what you’re looking for, but you schedule your appointment anyway. 
-
Friday at 6:40pm, you leave your apartment and begin walking to Lavender. It’s only about a fifteen minute walk away, which you don’t mind because the weather is cooling down and the leaves are beginning to change color. You enjoy the scenery. At 6:57, you walk into the small office for your appointment, a bell jingling as you push open the door. The shades are drawn over the windows, blocking out what little light is cast by the setting sun in the overcast sky. It smells smokey, like incense. Gentle music plays as you wait at the front desk for someone to help you. 
After a moment, a man comes out through a door behind the desk. He’s taller, his face is handsome under the low light. His hair is dark apart from a very prominent streak of white in his hairline, his beard and mustache are neatly trimmed and graying. And as he makes his way closer to you, you make out a peculiar curved scar on his cheek, right next to a sharp, aquiline nose. The man smiles warmly at you and you silently pray to any god that’ll listen that he’s your massage therapist, and not just the person working the front desk. 
“I believe you must be my 7 o’clock, yes?”
Hallelujah. 
“Yes, that’s my appointment.”
“Your name, my dove?” 
You’re going weak in the knees. He speaks in a low voice, a syrupy thick southern accent pouring from his pouty lips. You tell him your name, tripping over your syllables. The man chuckles,  “I’m Ezra. Pleased to meet you,” he says, taking your hand in his before pressing a gentle kiss to your trembling knuckles. “I sense anxiety, my dove. Would I be correct in that assumption?”
You nod. “A little, yeah. Sorry. It’s my first massage.” Ezra’s warm, chocolatey eyes roam your body and you feel flustered, “I uh - I have this…” you dig out the gift certificate from your purse, slightly crumpled now. “From the raffle at that drag show.” 
“Ah, yes,” Ezra smiles, taking the certificate from you. “Thank you,” he says, smoothing out the crinkles in the paper. He notices you tapping your fingers rhythmically on his desk, and covers your hand with his own. “There’s no need for anxiety, darlin’. You’re in good hands with me. Perhaps a cup of tea to soothe those nerves of yours before I get started with you?” 
“That’d be great, yeah,” you reply. 
Ezra opens a nearby cabinet. “What are you in the mood for this evening?”
“Not really sure,” you answer, humming as you think. “Do you have suggestions?”
“That I do,” he says. “I’d suggest somethin’ herbal, no need for caffeine so late. I’ve got peach, I’ve got chamomile vanilla…” Ezra trails off, moving various boxes in the cabinet. “Hot chocolate too, f’ya want.” 
“The vanilla one. Please.” 
“The vanilla one it shall be, then.” 
Ezra makes you a small cup of tea, sweetening it with a bit of honey per your request. He sits you down in a comfortable chair and carefully places the warm mug on an end table next to you, then hands you a clipboard. 
“Just some routine paperwork I’d appreciate if you’d fill out for me as I get your room situated. Hope that’s not an issue.” 
“Not at all.” 
Ezra thanks you and exits the room, leaving you to fill out the paperwork. It’s all the usual questions: Name, date of birth, email, phone number, emergency contact. After that it asks of any allergies, medical conditions, or major surgeries to be aware of. You answer each question accordingly, and then the last section is made up of questions about your massage preferences.
Massage type? (Chakra balancing, prenatal, PMS, stress-relief, hot stone, cupping, deep tissue) - Unsure. 
Any areas of the body that need to be focused on or avoided? - Unsure. 
Preferred pressure? (light, medium, hard) - Unsure. 
Any other preferences or details you’d like to add? - Unsure.
You click the pen and lay it on the completed paperwork, then sip your steaming tea. You wiggle your foot as you anxiously await Ezra’s return.
“I’m ready for you, sweet dove.” 
Ezra’s waiting by the door behind the front desk. You drink the last of your tea and follow Ezra into the room, where he takes his clipboard back from you. The room is dark, darker than the waiting area. It’s lit by a couple of plain candles, warm light flickering against the walls as soft piano music plays from a speaker. “Your purse,” Ezra motions for you to remove your bag, then hangs it over a hook on the door. “And your jacket, if I may,” he murmurs from behind you, hooking his fingers between the collar of your jacket and your body, waiting for you to unzip it before he pulls it off of your shoulders and hangs it up. Your skin tingles as his fingers brush over you, just a taste of what’s to come. 
“Undress for me as I go over your paperwork outside. I’ll knock on the door and wait for your word before re-entering.”  
“How much? How…” you trail off, bashful as you try to complete the sentence. Ezra knows what you’re trying to ask, though. “To your leisure, darlin’, though my suggestion would be to the nude, jewelry and all. The choice is yours. And once you’re done, lie on the table for me. You may protect your modesty with the towel I’ve provided for you right here.” Ezra pats a white towel that sits folded on the counter, next to a little crystal jewelry dish. 
Ezra leaves, gently shutting the door behind himself. He examines your paperwork behind the closed door as he hears rustling on the other side, the sound of you undressing. You leave your clothes in a pile on a chair, then cover your body with the towel. You lay on the massage table, pleasantly surprised that Ezra’s been warming it for you. You’re still a little nervous, so you focus on breathing deeply and calming yourself down as you wait to hear Ezra’s knock. You listen to the gentle piano playing, trying to place where you’ve heard this song before. 
Knock knock.
“Come in,” you call out, and Ezra opens the door. He closes it again softly and stands by the counter, readying some supplies. “What’s this song?”
“S’a piano cover of The Cure,” Ezra answers. “Last Day of Summer.” 
“Mmm. I never really liked them,” you admit. 
Ezra chuckles softly. “To each their own, I ‘spose. But I must inform you that you’re missin’ out, my dove.” 
You’re grateful Ezra can’t see your smile or your bashful expression at the pet name as you rest your face in the cradle of the table. “I do like this,” you tell him. “The piano cover.” 
“I do too. Relaxing, ain’t it?” 
“Yeah, it is. Very.” 
“Indeed. Now, I’d like to go over a couple of items on your paperwork before we commence. I believe you had stated that you’ve never received a massage before, correct?”
“That’s correct.”
“And you’re unsure of your preferences or areas of your body I should pay special attention to or avoid.”
 “That’s right, yeah.” Ezra hums in response, then goes quiet. “...I hope that’s not a problem?” 
“Worry not, dove, s’not a problem at all. Jus’ means I’ll be takin’ a more…experimental approach to massagin’ your body, s’all.”
 “Oh. Uh…experimental how?”
 “Your massage will entail the utilization of a variety of techniques, to thoroughly explore all parts of your body. By my listenin’ to both your verbal and nonverbal cues, and by checkin’ in, askin’ you questions about how you’re feelin’,” Ezra explains, “I’ll get to know your body and how best to please you. It’ll make things run nice an’ creamy for us both.” 
“O-okay. That sounds good.” 
You’re in trouble. Each of Ezra’s words, spoken through a honey-sweet tone, goes straight to your core. You wonder how slick you are between your thighs, if Ezra’ll notice. 
“I believe we’re ready to begin, then, dove.” 
Ezra lights some dragon’s blood scented incense, then washes his hands with hot water. Best not to startle you with cold hands. He approaches you on the massage table, you can smell him even through the smokey scent of the incense. He’s clean and citrusy, you wonder what cologne he wears. He places something on a rolling table and then reaches for your towel, gently tugging the tucked in ends from beneath your body. “Lift up a little for me, my dove. I don’t wanna hurt you.” 
You hoist yourself up, lifting your torso into the air so Ezra can pull the ends of the towel from under you. Cool air hits the skin of your exposed breasts, though your nipples are already hardened by your arousal. Once you lie back down, Ezra folds the towel down your torso so that only your ass and legs remain covered. “And I’ll be talkin’ you through my process, so nothin’ comes as a surprise.”
“Mm.”
“Gonna begin by drizzling some oil over your back, to keep your skin nice and properly lubricated as I massage you. Ready?”
“Ready,” you mumble. 
“But first…It seems you’ve forgotten to remove your jewelry,” he whispers, unclasping the necklace you wear. You lift slightly so that he can carefully remove the chain and pendant, then sets it down. Ezra takes the item he set on the rolling table, a massage candle that’s been burning for a while, the oil completely liquified. He holds it a couple inches above your back and then tilts it, hot oil dripping down your skin and surprising you. “My apologies, dove. I didn’t intend to startle you. You’ll get used to the warmth, I promise.” 
Ezra drips a bit more oil on your body, then sets it back down on the rolling table. “Gonna touch you, now,” he whispers. You sigh as you feel his hands finally touch your skin, calloused palms rubbing the oil from your shoulders down to your lower back. He begins by massaging your neck, thumbs sliding down your skin, over and over and over before traveling lower, massaging your traps and shoulders, the backs of your arms a little bit. His hands travel back up your shoulders where the skin meets your neck and massages with a firm pressure, causing you to wince. “Ohh, I know, I know. You’re quite tender, there, my dove. If you’d so kindly allow me to work out this tightness, I think it’d benefit you tremendously.” 
“Okay. Thank you.” 
Ezra massages you by pressing firmly into your skin, thumbs moving in circles, back and forth. “Relax,” he whispers. “Soften yourself. I’ve got you. Breathe in…” 
You draw in a deep breath, Ezra’s movements momentarily pausing. 
“...And out.” 
On your exhale, he massages the tense part of your neck, satisfied at how you’ve relaxed your body for him. He works out the tension, “Good, attagirl,” he praises, hands sliding down the rest of your back. He uses long strokes to massage up and down your spine, then your sides. You let out soft noises, noises indicating pleasure, not pain. Ezra notices how you quiet yourself, voiceless exhales instead of moans. “You don’t have to quiet yourself on my account, dove. I encourage any vocal or physical manifestation of your pleasure.”
Ezra’s hands feel like magic as they travel up and down your back, squeezing and sliding over your oiled skin. He walks his hands down your arms, down your palms, pausing when he reaches your fingers, “I believe you’ve forgotten to remove some more jewelry, darlin’. May I take these rings off of your fingers?”
“Yeah, please.” 
Ezra wiggles your rings off of the fingers of your right hand, then the left. They make soft, metallic noises as they clink against each other in Ezra’s palm. “Beautiful rings, my dear,” he murmurs before setting them down on the rolling cart, next to the necklace he’d taken off for you. Ezra massages your forearms, your wrists, your palms and fingers, first one hand and then the other. When he’s done, you hear the soft shuffle of fabric as he moves to the end of the massage table, rolling his cart with him. “I’d like to ask for consent before massaging your feet, my dove, as I’ve been kicked before by some rather ticklish clients.” 
“I’m a little ticklish, too” you admit shyly. “I can never get pedicures because of it. Have to do my toes at home.”
Ezra chuckles. “I find that firm pressure is most effective in preventing that sensation. May I try?” 
“Yes, go ahead.” 
Ezra pours a bit of oil in his hands and rubs them together before reaching for one of your feet, your toes wiggling and curling at his touch. ���Shh, jus’ relax,” he coos softly, smirking at your sensitivity. With a steady, hard pressure, Ezra massages your foot. “Focus on your breathin’. It’s ‘sposed to feel good, I ain’t tryin’ to play a dirty trick on you.”
The tickling sensation is there, but with steady, deep breaths, you’re able to control it and allow yourself the pleasure of having your feet massaged. You stretch out the way a cat does when it relaxes, and Ezra smiles in satisfaction. “There it is. Feel good?”
“S’good,” you sigh. 
Ezra massages from your feet to your ankles, then folds the towel up and over your ass to expose your legs fully. He massages from your ankles up your calves, and oh - it feels incredible. You moan freely, feeling more confident to do so after his kind encouragement. You melt under his touch, arching into it as he works up your thighs, drizzling more oil before rubbing your skin. His hands are kneading the plump flesh of your ass now, one hand on each cheek, his thumbs close to your pussy. He admires that pretty diamond shape of your ass and thighs framing your bare pussy, and he notices how you drip for him. “Ezra,” his name slips from your lips in a whimper as he spreads your cheeks, rubbing his thumbs over the coarse hair that surrounds your cunt. 
“You seem quite enthused, little dove,” Ezra smirks. 
“Yeah…feel - feels good. So good, s-so…” 
“I’m pleased to hear it, my darlin’.” 
“Ezra,” you whine in betrayal when you feel Ezra’s hands leave your body, the pressure of his touch lingering on your skin. 
“My, such an ardent complaint,” Ezra remarks. “I hate to disappoint, but I implore you to trust my process. I won’t leave you dissatisfied, sweetheart.” Ezra unfolds the towel back over your body, then lifts it slightly, “Now, on your back for me.”  
You flip yourself onto your back, and once settled, Ezra folds the towel down to cover your lower half, leaving your breasts exposed. He keeps the temperature of the air in the room warm, but your nipples are hardened anyway, hardened by your arousal. Your heart pounds as you watch him, your chest rising and falling with steady breaths. You turn your head to watch him reach for his massage oil candle, your breath hitching when you see his pants visibly tented by his erection. He doesn’t bother hiding it. 
Ezra watches you with dark, sparkling eyes as he drips the oil on your body, the candlelight flickering, illuminating his handsome features with a warm glow. He massages your shoulders and your chest, hands gliding over your breasts and abdomen, then back up again. You gasp when his thumb catches your nipple, and Ezra raises an eyebrow. He circles your areola with his thumb, pinching and twisting your other nipple gently, teasing you. “Fuck,” you cry out, raising your hand to hold Ezra’s strong, muscular, veiny forearm. 
“You’re doin’ so good,” he whispers, then places your hand down at your side. He pulls the towel down your body some more as he massages down your sides and your hips, lifting one of your legs so he can massage both sides of your thigh. Your legs are spread for him, pussy on display and glistening with your arousal. “Oh, little dove. Such a mess you’re makin’ of my table.” 
You bite your lip and whine as Ezra’s fingers just barely touch your lips, achingly close to where you need his touch the most. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. 
“I don’t wanna hear you apologizin’, sweetheart. I won’t stand for it,” Ezra lays your bent leg back down, then rounds the table and lifts your other leg. “‘Sides,” he says, “S’only natural, how your body reacts to my touch. Nothin’ to be ashamed of.” 
You smile shyly as Ezra massages up and down your thigh, teasing you just how he did before. You tilt yourself into his touch, moaning as he approaches your wet cunt, waiting to feel his fingers between your folds. But you never do. 
“We’re comin’ up on the end of our appointment,” Ezra warns. “If there’s an area of your body that you feel needs special attention before we conclude, let me know.”
“Ezra–” You reach for his wrist and urge him to touch you between your thighs. 
“Something that still needs tending to, my dove?”
You nod frantically. “Please–”
“Use your words,” he interrupts, his voice low. “You have to ask me for what you want. I’m unable to alleviate your discomfort if you don’t tell me what you need, sweetheart.” Ezra’s fingers hover over your core, feeling the heat radiating from you. You stutter out something incoherent, and Ezra dips his fingers lower, ever so gently touching you. He traces your folds, waiting for your answer. “Ask me.” 
“I want you to make me come, Ezra,” you beg, “Please.” 
“I can do that in many ways. Tell me how, little dove. Tell me where you need me to touch you.” 
Ezra wears a crooked smile. This, this is his loophole. He knows that technically, as a professional, this is a line he shouldn’t cross. But he can’t help himself, you moan so sweetly for him even without his fingers buried in your cunt. Sensation is subjective, so you can’t say his teasing is intentional, deliberate. It’s your own reaction, and not Ezra’s fault if you feel aroused during massage - after all, it’s a completely natural response to physical stimulation. By making you ask - beg - for what he’s coaxed you to want from him, Ezra evades responsibility. This is on you. 
“I want your fingers in my pussy,” you breathe, pressing his thick fingers against your slick center. “Please.” 
Ezra inserts his middle and ring fingers into your dripping hole, feeling your muscles tense around his digits as he gathers your arousal. He pulls his fingers back out and then traces up and down your pussy, loving the way his fingers slip and slide through your slick folds. He circles your clit once, twice, then explores the feeling of your lips again. “Check in with me, darlin’, how are you feeling?”
You answer Ezra’s question with a mess of breathy moans, and he chuckles at that. He paints steady circles around your clit and glides his other hand over your oiled body, fingers catching your pebbled nipples. Ezra leans over and keeps his face close to yours, grinning proudly when you gasp as he pushes those two fingers of his back inside you. Your legs clamp shut around his arm as he curls his fingers rhythmically, stroking that spongy, sweet spot inside of you that makes you squirm. “Ezra, Ezra,” you cry. 
“Shhhh,” he hushes you, “Open up for me.” Ezra traces your face with his sharp nose, his hot, minty breath fanning over your skin. As you spread your legs, he bites your earlobe gently. “Stay like this now, little dove. Let me please you.” 
Ezra stands up straight again, his warm, masculine hand sliding down your sternum and your stomach, fingers reaching for that tight bundle of nerves between your thighs. As he works his fingers inside you, he circles your clit, using both hands to pleasure you. You’re close, and it’s taken no time at all. Arching your back, you tilt your head and close your eyes as you lean into his touch, focusing on your impending release. “Look at me when you come,” he commands. “Eyes on me.” 
“Fuck, Ezra–” 
“I know, little dove, I know,” he coos.
He replaces his fingers with his tongue, knees cracking as he kneels before you. By pressing a button beneath the table he lowers it, bringing you to a comfortable height for himself. You don’t notice him dipping his fingers into the candle, then shoving his hand beneath the waistband of his linen pants. He toys with his hard cock, stiff member aching, leaking just for you.
All you can focus on is the pleasure building deep in your gut. You watch Ezra, he’s gazing upon you with hooded eyes. He seems entranced by it all, the sensation of your pulsing cunt, the slick noises his fingers make while inside you. He hums at your taste, that sweet, musky flavor of your pussy. You tug his dark hair as he circles your clit with his tongue, “Fuck, right there,” you gasp. “Right there, Ezra, please.” 
As Ezra’s tongue slides over your clit, fingers steadily curling inside you, he pumps himself. His big hand slides up and down his shaft, he can feel each of his swollen, prominent veins under his palm. He grips himself tightly, fucking his fist with fervor. 
“I’m there, I’m there,” you cry. You come on his tongue with loud, frantic moans, maintaining eye contact, just like he told you to do. He works you through it, your pussy soaking his fingers, his nose, arousal dripping all the way down into his palm. Moans of pleasure shifting to noises of overstimulation, Ezra continuing to fuck you on his fingers as he fucks his fist. He groans against your cunt as he comes, painting his own hand with hot, milky ropes of his come. He drags his release out, teasing both himself and you as he comes down. 
Gently, Ezra pulls his fingers from your core, then pulls his own hand out of his pants. He turns to wash his hands at the sink but you stop him, reaching for his wrist. “N-need to taste you,” you breathe. “Let me taste you, Ezra.” 
Ezra smiles warmly. “I’m flattered by your enthusiasm to reciprocate the pleasure, little dove, but I must confess I’ve taken care of my arousal already. This is your time to relax and to immerse yourself in pleasure, not mine.”
You pout. 
“But if you desire to taste me…”
Ezra holds his hand in front of your face, fingers glistening with silky ribbons of his come. You bring his palm to your lips, then lick and suck his fingers clean of his spend, humming at the salty, heady taste. 
When done, Ezra helps you sit up. “I’ll wait out front for you to get dressed, and then we can schedule a follow-up appointment,” he says, a mischievous look in his eye. “Don’t forget your jewelry on my cart, little dove.”
Comments, reblogs, and asks are so very appreciated!! I love to hear your kind words about my work, they keep me motivated to write for you all <3
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cherryredstars · 1 year
Note
I absolutely love your work! Could you maybe write some soft!Dom Simon riley? I really really like your characterisation of him
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Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x gn!reader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with No Plot, Praise, Penetrative Sex, Body Worship, Oral Sex, Aftercare
Summary: Actions have always spoken louder than words. 
A/N: First Simon request (WHAT!!)
Word Count: 1.2K (Barely Edited)
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Love is hard. Especially for Simon. 
It offers a new type of uncertainty, one entirely different from the uncertainty of the field. One that is much more risky, one that he doesn’t know how to navigate through. All he knows, from his life on and off the field, is that actions have always expressed what words can’t. That very fact has shaped Simon’s love language. 
So, on the days that both of you feel love overtaking all your senses, or on the days where love seems particularly daunting, Simon finds himself hovering over your delicate body. His hands pressing into the softness of your flesh as his body fills the space of your parted legs. His breaths are soft against your lips, eyes closed impossibly tight as he lets his tongue caress your own. Fuzzy colors dance along his closed lids as he takes in the smell of your shampoo and the warmth that seeps into his body. 
He pulls away, your lips trailing after him with a pout. The smallest of smiles covers his face and he coos down at you, pulling your shirt off your body and pressing soft kisses along the skin that becomes more exposed to him. He throws the shirt to the side, a pleasured sigh leaving his lips as he runs his fingers up and down your exposed body. His hands run down your chest, momentarily flicking your nipples to hear that beautiful gasp you can’t help but give. His fingers ghosting down the plane of your stomach and swirling around your belly button to hear your little giggles that warm his heart. He slides his hands under your back, massaging the flesh of your waist as he kisses up your body.
His smile makes the kisses a bit wonky, your eyes watching him as he kisses from your lower stomach, to your chest, to your neck, and finally to your lips. Your hands find their way into his hair, prickly from his very overgrown military-standard buzzcut. A pleased noise leaves him as tilts his head to deepen the kiss, lips slowly trailing away to kiss the other parts of your face. Soft lips meeting the apples of your cheeks, the tip of your nose, the thin skin of your eyelids. A fond smile crosses your face that mirrors his as he pulls away. 
He sits up, removing his own shirt before continuing to strip the both of you bare. Once you’re fully naked under him, he parts your legs fully and lowers his head to your sex. His first flick of his tongue is experimental, eyes closing as the taste of arousal blooms in his mouth. A soft groan vibrates in his throat, sucking you fully into his mouth. The pleased moan you let out goes straight to his aching cock. He hungrily buries his head in between your thighs, pulling away to give you teasing licks and diving back in. He coaxes an orgasm from you, eyes drifting up to your face as your tug at his hair. A hazy look covers his eyes, his hands massaging your thighs as he reluctantly pulls away. 
He licks his lips of any remaining arousal, pressing one last kiss to your sex, “Did so well, love. Tasted so good for me.” 
A soft whimper leaves your lips, but your eyes beam under his praise. He crawls back up the length of your body, caressing your cheek as he studies your face. He tries to memorize every curve and dip, tracing his fingers along them. His eyes shine with complete admiration for you, lowering his head to press his lips to yours when you whine out his name. Your own taste is shared with you, and your grip on him gets tighter. Your hips fully grind into Simon’s erection, causing a broken hiss. He lifts your hips up slightly, his tip pressing against your hole.
You can feel his precum, leaking excitedly from his tip and slowly dripping down your thigh. It becomes smeared when he bucks his hips, your soft mewl a contrast to his rough grunt. Simon tilts your head to the side, his face buried in the curve of your neck as he slowly pushes into you. He tries to stabilize himself by pressing heated kisses to your skin, biting and sucking hard before cooling the irritated skin down with gentle kitten licks. When he’s fully inside you, he lets out a deep moan, appreciating the way you’re clamping hard around him as you adjust to the fullness. 
He gives an experimental thrust, your back arching into him at the sensation. He moves his hand down to your thigh, wrapping it securely around him as he thrusts again. He can feel the blunt edge of your nails carving down his back, a sharp inhale of air entering his lungs at the feeling. His thrusts speed up the tiniest bit, his head lifting to look down at where his cock disappears inside of you. A thin spray of sweat hits your body when he whips his head up, his eyes wildly searching for yours. When they connect he moans out, his unoccupied hand coming to tangle in your hair. The tiniest whimper leaves you before you smile shyly, muttering out a ‘hi’.
Simon curses in response, his hips angling to hit the perfect spot inside you. He crashes his lips down to yours in a messy kiss. He tugs and licks at your bottom lip, his head briefly rolling back before he rests his forehead against yours. He continues knocking against that gummy spot inside of you, a strangled gasp leaving you as you feel the tightness in your stomach about to explode. You desperately grab at Simon, trying to find something to tether you to the moment. 
“I know. I know, babe. Go ahead, ride it out.” 
His words give you the right nudge over the edge. You get impossibly tighter around him as you arch off the bed. He lets out a deep groan at the feeling, watching as you come in a dazed trance. He’s not far behind, his hips stuttering as he explodes. His thrusts decrease to half hearted pumps as he rides out his release, a deep breath leaving him as he stares down at you. 
“M’love you.” he humbles out, kissing your cheeks gently as he slips out. He holds you against him tightly, breathing in the smell of your hair and sweat. 
His hand untangled from your hair and pushes it away from your forehead, laying a single kiss to your temple before getting up. He leaves you to rest on the bed, bringing wet washcloths to cool your warmed body and to clean you up. HIs touch is gentle and focused as he takes care of you, pressing kisses every now and then to your flushed skin. A soft smile graces your face as you watch the concentrated furrow of his brow, your hand lifting to smooth out the skin. 
He grabs your hand before you can fully pull it back, pressing a kiss to your fingertips. He loosely holds your hand as he begins walking away, stopping when your hold tightens. He looks back at you, silently asking what it is you need.
“I love you, Si.”
A deep breath expands Simon’s chest as he looks down at you. His eyes soften as they scan over your face. He says nothing in return, instead squeezing your hand tightly three times before letting it go. 
“I know.”
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I love soft Simon!
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l0ngschl0ngking · 1 year
Text
Not his type
Javier Peña x f!reader
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summary: you are helping at Chucho’s ranch and Javier thinks you are still definitely not his type
warnings: as usually SMUT ( vaginal fingering, oral -m!receiving, male masturbation, protected p in v, biting, hair pulling), cursing, soft!Javi - cuz that’s my favorite genre of Javi -, just a smudge of angst, mentions of bullying, mentions of food, fluff  
word count: 10.5 k (I like them big I guess *wink wink*)
A/N: I planned to start my Marcus Pike fic but then this idea popped into my head and I just had to write it. This is basically just a long friends to lovers fic.
Javier Peña is not a simple man – far from it. He is bitter and hot-headed, and he feels small no matter what he does – he should have done better, he should have been smarter, quicker. He shouldn't have been such an idiot. Maybe then he wouldn’t be now standing in front of his childhood home. Maybe then...  
But no matter what Javier thinks of himself he is a good man. He is caring and always wants to do the right thing – even if the consequences of his actions make him look like a bad guy. He doesn’t care – or he does but doesn’t let it show. Doesn’t want people to know that perhaps he is not as strong as he seems. Doesn’t want them to know that he cares – sometimes too deeply. Doesn’t want them to know he might feel – it's better if he seems unapproachable and looks like if you'd touch him, he'd burn you too greatly - so much that you would want to do nothing with him ever again.
So Javier feels the weight of all of his sins drop into his stomach when he keeps standing on the porch of Chucho’s house with a suitcase that he had packed with himself from Bogotá. He wanted to leave all of his old life behind but some memories stay with things that are bound to them.
He feels like a little boy again when he came home crying because lads – older and bigger than him – were picking on him. He feels like the little boy who hid behind the skirts of his dear mama when guests came to visit. That’s why he wants to look so tough, that’s why he is so hard around the edges – he changed, Bogotá changed him so he wouldn’t have to feel that small ever again. But even that didn’t help. Deep inside he is still that little boy. He can hide behind his bravado - his stern scowl and cold gaze- but that fact will never change.
He doesn’t know how long he has been standing there until the door swings open – almost hitting him in the face – and he sees Chucho standing in the doorway. His signature cowboy hat on his head and that old red flannel shirt he bought him on Christmas ages ago seems a little tighter around his middle than he'd last seen him in it. He is older – slower, the age showing on his face. But when he smiles as he sees Javier in front of him he looks 30 years younger.  
Javier looks a lot like his pops – he has the same nose that he hated when he was younger – and pops had the same colored dark hair once that curls if it gets too long. They have the same dimple on the left side of their face if they smile too hard and like his pops, Javier could never really grow a proper beard.  
Pops hugs him as if he hadn't seen him in ages – and to be honest, that is true. Work and life always got in the way and he regrets all the time he missed with him. He also didn’t want to come home – his mother’s things were still everywhere in the house. Her pictures, the warms blankets - that Javier loved to wrap around himself on the colder nights in Laredo - scattered on the armchairs and couch. He didn’t want to see Pops sad and so he stayed behind in Bogotá drowning in work, booze and women. The Peña men had different ways of grieving. Chucho never said anything to Javi though – he didn’t blame him for not coming, didn’t yell at him for letting him be alone on holidays – and he should have. He should do all those things because maybe then Javier wouldn’t feel like such a bad son.  
When they part Chucho smiles – he didn’t smile a whole lot after Javi's mom died. “It's good to see you, Javier.” He pats him on the back – a little clumsily, Javier notices but he puts a tight smile on his face. He missed a whole lot.
“You too, pops. How have you been?” It’s a question he knows the answer to. He always answers the same – busy. After the death of his wife Pops seemed to spend most of his day outside working on a ranch. Barely coming home to eat or drink. Wanted to occupy his mind. “Seems like you started actually eating as I said.” Pops waves his hand back at him.
“You calling me fat, mijo?” Javier opens his mouth to answer but Pops beat him to it, his belly shaking a little with laughter. “Someone has been helping me out for a while now. Cooking and cleaning the house once in a while.” Javier quirks an eyebrow at this and he pushes the small suitcase as he enters – now his home, too. It didn’t change here in the slightest. Pops throws him a look above his shoulder as he looks him up and down quickly. “Seems like you have been skipping out on meals, my boy. Come, Bee is here and the lunch should be already done. She made Pozole de Pollo o Guajolote. Your mother's recipe.” Javi stands straighter at the nickname. Surely he didn’t mean...
The delicious smell coming from the kitchen makes his stomach rumble and he doesn’t remember the last time he had a proper meal. He abandons the suitcase in the hallway after he takes off his boots and jacket that he puts on the old wooden hanger for coats he made with Pops when he was around 12 –its asymmetrical and weird-looking seeming like it was made by a child – which it was but it’s a memory Javier is very fond of.  
The floors creak under Javier's quick footsteps and he stops in the doorway as he watches you fuss around his dad. His entire body softens, the crease in his forehead disappearing as he sees you in the Peña kitchen. The past coming into the present. Prepping the silverware on the table that lays in the middle of the smaller kitchen. He sees that Pops kept everything in place like it was even before the death of Javi's mother. He missed this place. Even though bittersweet memories crawl out on the surface of his mind and his heart aches like it hadn’t in a really long time.
“Seems like you are a busy bee, Bee.” Javier smirks when you look up at him. You didn’t really change after the last time he had seen you. Sure, you aged – as has he – but you still kept your spark from all those years ago. You smile fondly – and a little unsure – at him as you quickly wipe your hands on the apron wrapped around your middle. And Javier notices - of course, he does. The hesitation in your step when you walk to him. The little twitch of your lips you make when you are nervous.
He is an observant man. He watches and analyzes. And he is good at it too - you squirm under his intense gaze. As if he could see every little part of your soul, even the deepest secrets you kept hidden somewhere back down inside of you. That’s why he is such a good agent. Was, at least. His dark eyes shift to your cleavage just for a second. You don’t notice - his eyes quickly scanning you up and down.
He looks good. Even better than the last time you saw him. The mustache he grew suits him. His hair is longer than he had when he went to high school with you. He is broader and seems even taller. He is a man now, not the little boy you played hide and seek with. He still wears the same smirk on his lips though - that kind of smirk that meant trouble when you two were younger. His jeans hug him in just all the right places and the black shirt he is wearing makes him somehow look even hotter. All man.
“You know me. Never could keep still.”
And he does. He does know you. Or at least he did - when you two were just young kids, then stupid teenagers and suddenly - strangers too. You grew up at the Peña dinner table as much as your own. Your mothers were great friends, your fathers old buddies. You had a farm right next to them which you eventually sold when your folks passed away and it was just too much work for only you alone. You bought a small house with the money you received.  
Javier still remembers when he first saw you – all toothy grin and two braids sitting on top of your head. You wore that stupid flowy dress in an ugly mustard color. You were more of the outgoing type and Javier – to everyone's surprise – was more of the lonely kid. He was smaller than his peers – smaller than you even, when you first met him. And he doesn’t remember why you started talking to him and wanted to become his friend but he didn’t complain at that time. You visited him almost every single day – looking for mischief all around. Broken glasses and bones were nothing new to both of you. The two of you were inseparable – until high school. Javier – for once in his life, thanks to you - didn’t feel so small anymore. He grew up to be a handsome and smart, confident and funny, pretty charming and self-assured young man. Girls started noticing him and he loved the attention – when their heads turned around to look.  They thought he never noticed. But alas, Javier was an observant boy even back then and he noticed – his cockiness getting on your nerves sometimes. He never wanted to feel small again.  
And like almost every girl – you developed a huge crush on him.  But it wasn’t because he was tall and cocky, no. It was simply because you knew the real Javier – your Javi. Who hated being alone and who hated going to the church every Sunday – hiding in the dusty, covered in spider webs attic. He never noticed you – like he noticed the other girls. He never gave you that loop-sided grin or the puppy heart-filled eyes. You were just great friends - even when you wished for more. And one day you weren't even that.
You should have seen it coming, really. With Javier becoming popular, he started hanging out with you less and less. When you came to Peña's household he was already out with his new friends. And you always came running to him like a pathetic little puppy who comes to his owner no matter how many times they kick him. His friends laughed at you. And later on, he started laughing with them. He got a girlfriend – Lorraine, the sweet and perfect Lorraine – before you two stopped talking. The old memory still stings when you think about it.  
It happened on one of those super warm summer nights in Laredo. You wore one of your favorite dresses. It hugged your curves and you thought you look absolutely beautiful in it – your mother said so too. You asked Javi if you could meet up at your spot – the old scrap yard just a couple minutes' walk from both of your houses. When you arrived there your stomach dropped to your feet – his friends sitting with him on your favorite car that was reserved for only you and Javi. Laughing and drinking booze, the atmosphere lose. But you didn’t feel lose – your muscles taunt and all you wanted to do was just turn on your heels and leave. Cry about this stupid little crush you had on this stupid Texas boy. But Javier spotted you before you could do so – somehow he could always spotted you even in the biggest of crowds.
“Bee! Come and join us!” He yelled, one of his hands shooting into the air as he held an unopened can of beer. And with his other hand...he was holding Lorraine. They were close to each other – her almost sitting on his lap as she placed kisses on the column of his throat. You swallowed the ball of anxiety that was building in your throat as you heard them whisper: “Why did you call her, man?” He didn’t answer as he smiled at you. Lorraine's eyes squinting at you in annoyance.
Clearing your throat you asked: “Javi, can we talk?” He just shrugged his shoulders as he hopped off from the roof of the car mumbling a quick “sure”. He wasn’t wearing a t-shirt – you noticed just then. The sun was slowly setting and his golden skin shined. The butterflies in your belly made you want to go home and squeal into your pillow. You gulped and a few of his friends whistled – noticing the once-over you gave him.
“Someone has an admirer here, Peña. Too bad she is so fat and ugly! Like a pig – oink oink!” All of them bursted into laughter and to your surprise – so did Javier. He laughed straight into your face and you fought the tears in your eyes to not spill as you finally turned on your heel – as you should have done much sooner – and left. You didn’t see the remorseful look in his eyes and the way his muscle twitched, his mind screaming at him to go after you. He never wanted to feel small ever again and his friends said you were a loser – people like him shouldn’t talk to people like you. He didn´t want to be loser again.
Lorraine pulls him by the shoulder back to her – her tongue plunging into his mouth and when they pull apart she grins, the long nails of hers scraping across his golden-tanned chest.  
“Forget about her, Javi. You don’t need her.” He nodded – unsure – but he didn’t have time to think about it too much as her tongue fought with his once more – the heavy taste of beer on her tongue filling all of his senses.
After that, you stop talking to Javier. You still came to his house - with your mama - but you didn’t greet him anymore and he was pretty sure you told your and his mother as well, as they always threw him a dirty look whenever he was in the same room as you. You didn’t look at him and you didn’t acknowledge his presence anymore. He hated that he felt so small again even though he didn’t have a reason to. He had friends and a girlfriend, and all the girls threw themselves at him. So why does his stomach pull tight anytime he is near you, why does he feel like he lost peace of himself?  
One day he decides he has had enough. Both of your mothers went outside to catch the last rays of the sun and you are alone in the kitchen – baking your famous apple pie. He sneaks behind you and cages you in. You feel his breath on your neck, the slow raise and fall of his chest. You turn around – your noses almost touching – and he sees the hot fury in your eyes. You are covered in flour and Javier thinks – just for a split second - he had never seen you look so fucking beautiful. His gaze lingers on your mouth maybe a little too long because he sees you are talking – your mouth opening and closing.
“What do you want, Javier?” You ask and he had never heard you so annoyed, so drained. You didn’t look like yourself anymore and didn’t sound like it too.  
“Us to start talking again, Bee.” Because Javier is selfish and he takes and takes. Sometimes forgetting to give something back in return. He widens his eyes when he feels the sting on one of his cheeks – his head moving to one side with the force of it. You slapped him. He looks at you – you are all wide eyes and snarling teeth.  
“Fuck you, Peña.” You quickly try to scramble away from him because you feel like crying again. No because of sadness – no. That sadness turned into raw fury after the incident at the scrap yard. Because of how idiotic and stupid he is. And because – no matter what he had done and told you – you can’t seem to shake off the crush you have on him. He grits his teeth and his hand grabs your wrist. Both of your breathing erratic.
“It's not my fault you are not my type, Bee.” He didn’t mean to say that - the words coming from his mouth sound foreign to him. Not right. But his hot temper gets the best of him and the way he said and what he said should not hurt that much. But it does. It feels like he had just stabbed you in the heart and then twisted the knife – deeper and deeper.
You yank away from his grip and you point a finger at him – your hand shaking with the hurt, anger, sadness, Everything coming at you in waves - it feels so fucking overwhelming. You want to scream at him, kick him, hurt him as much as he had hurt you. But what good would it do? None.
You exhale shakily and Javier waits for the fight but it doesn’t come. You shrink into yourself and turn to leave. You look at him above your shoulder as you whisper. “I hate you so fucking much, Javier Peña.” And you are gone.
The heavy weight of your words lingers in the air and he feels the hot tears running down the apple of his cheeks. He quickly wipes them away. His ears are ringing and he doesn’t hear your mother yelling at you about what happened. He doesn’t smell your apple pie burning in the oven. He fucked up. Because he will never get to talk to you again or feel your touch. He will never hear you laugh and he will never get to comfort you again when you cry. Because the only source of your sorrow is him – the stupid Texas boy you now despised.  
Javier comes to present and you give him a quick side hug telling him to sit down. Chucho watches both of you and he prays that you are both wise enough now to sort out this little grudge you have. But you are also both too stubborn and the dinner passes in silence. The only sound is the clinking of silverware cutting through the thick air and sometimes Chucho quips in to ask Javier about Colombia - Javier doesn’t want to talk about that, though. So he stays quiet as he chews - the food tastes exactly like his mother’s.
When Javier sneaks a quick look at you he thinks that maybe he wasn’t such an idiot. The bitterness from your last talk makes his face twist. He hates how - even after all these years - you seem to not acknowledge him even though you try to stay as polite towards him as possible. As if you just look through him and not at him. He watches as you pass his pops a salt and you grin at something he says.
And yeah, you are still definitely not his type.
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Javier sees you almost every day. It drives him fucking crazy. The way you just nod at him when he passes by or is in the same room as you – which is mostly kitchen -, the way you don’t answer his questions about you. How have you been, what did you do after high school? He only knows your folks passed away shortly after he left for Colombia – Chucho told him over the phone. Your parents felt like second ones to him. He wanted to call you after Chucho told him, he really did. But he didn’t know your number – that was just an excuse, he knows that and he also knows Chucho would have given it to him if he asked. He feared that you would hang up on him, that if he heard your broken voice he would book the closest flight to come to you. After all – you were best friends a long time ago.  
Javier wants to know everything about you – but you give him nothing. You are just a big complicated riddle to him and he has no hints to figure you out. He notices you though and the things you still do. You still enjoy watching sunsets as you did when you were younger. And that you talk to plants when you water them or that you still secretly go and feed horses a few sugar cubes even though you really shouldn’t. That you still hum when you cook and squint your eyes on either him or Chucho when they enter the kitchen because you don’t like when somebody disturbs you while you are in you’re your element. You always liked to bake and cook – often sneaking into the kitchen with him late at night because he wanted cookies and you gave in and baked them. Because he asked you to and said please – Javier never said please often and that habit he kept.
So because you don’t seem happy when he wants to talk to you or occupies the same room – you actually don’t seem happy with his presence in general and that makes his heart tighten even if he doesn’t understand why – he spends most of his day tending to the ranch. Feeding the animals and fixing the old barn. Today he started fixing the old fence that didn’t even look like a fence at all anymore. He grunts as he stands up – he is getting old and his back is fucking killing him. The Texas sun makes him sweat, he smells and he feels thirsty – has felt thirsty for a while now. But he knows it's afternoon and you are probably in the house cooking. He contemplates it – he doesn’t want to see you uncomfortable around his sheer presence but fuck. He feels like he could drink a whole gallon of water. Fuck it, he thinks as his steps lead him to the Pena house. You knew he was coming back home – if you didn’t want to stick with him, you wouldn’t.  
When he is finally inside and the sun doesn’t burn his face, he takes off his yellow aviators and the thick working gloves. He is covered in sweat and dirt and as he enters the kitchen you think he never looked better. But he always does in your eyes and you hate yourself for it. You gulp and turn your back to him as you try to quickly scribble the things you need to get at the farmers market today. Your body stiffens when he walks behind you – his shirt brushes against your shoulders - and grabs one of those old funny-looking glasses you painted together when you were probably around 9. The air thickens and the atmosphere is awkward – you both want to say something but nothing comes out of your mouths. Finally, Chucho enters and he looks at Javi and then back at you.
“Go shower, mijo. You are going with Bee today.” It's an order and Javi doesn’t want to argue. His house, his rules. Quite the opposite – maybe the change of setting will finally let you loosen up and you will talk to him. He wants to say to you so much. He looks at you and you gape at Chucho as he throws you a pointed look. You swiftly shut your mouth – Javier taking the steps by two as he wants to scrub himself squeaky clean as soon as possible. He feels positively giddy – it reminds him of the times when he got his first car and drove around Laredo with you.  
When he comes down the hushed conversation between you and Chucho comes to a halt and he looks between you two before Chucho almost pushes you out of the house. You drag your feet behind you and the giddiness he felt leaves him as he sees your “enthusiasm”. He wants to go and hide in the nearest hole, lick the wounds he pretends he doesn’t have but you are already sitting in the passenger seat by the time he gets his head out of the gutter.
The ride is awkward, filled with silence and you squirm every once in a while in your seat. You glance at Javier's profile a few times – his strong jawline and his aquiline nose. You stare at his hands and how come they are so big? The veins are prominent on the back of them - leading to the thick fingers, nails trimmed neatly. His hair is longer now after a few weeks already spend at home. He looks better than when he arrived. Now he didn’t look as...tired. And as skinny – he always devours the meals you cook and you can see him filling up around the middle. His arms were much stronger and more muscular than before because of all the work he did on the ranch. Domesticity looks good on him. You watch as he grips the wheel and see his jaw tick before he sighs.
“I am sorry, Bee.” You raise your brows at him when he glances to see your reaction to his words. He never was good with them “actions speak louder than words” he always said. “I am sorry for what I said and how I treated you during high school. I was a fucking idiot and if I could take it all back-”
“You were.” It's a simple phrase, your words coming out fast and he grips the steering wheel tighter when your hand lands on his thigh. “But that’s all I ever wanted to hear, Javier. Yes, your words and actions hurt me in the past. And they still hurt me now when I think about them. But there's nothing we can do about it now. We were kids and if it didn’t happen I don’t think I would become the person I am now so I accept your apology even if it could have been a better one. You should really work on your people skills.” You shrug your shoulders as you tease him and the hand that was resting on his thigh moves into your lap once again. He wants to tell you you could have kept it there – it felt too fucking good even if it was such a simple and innocent touch. It grounded him and Javier is touch deprived.
“So, that’s it?” He asks, his tongue poking out to lick his lower lip as he raises his eyebrows while he watches the road.  
“Yes, that’s it.”
The conversation flows smoothly after that and Javier can't believe it was that easy. If he apologized much sooner he could have been talking to you for weeks now. He missed this – your talks. You talked with your hands a lot and he enjoys how expressive you are when you are telling something. He learns a lot about you. You own a little bakery here - that’s why you are so flexible and can come almost anytime to the ranch. He feels proud of you – your dream was always to open a small bakery somewhere. At least one of us could make their dream come true. 
You laugh and talk, and tell stupid jokes or occurrences that happened in your life. He missed a whole lot and so have you. Your favorite story of his is when he told about the time his neighbor – an old lady – saw him butt naked because the woman he slept with locked him out of his own apartment after he told her he wanted nothing serious. His neighbor called him over to have some fun which he politely declined. You double over laughing and Javi grins, his cheeks hurting. He missed your laugh – he didn’t feel this comfortable ever since...well ever since you stopped talking.  
The ride passes quickly and when you step out of the car you come around – grabbing Javis's hand as you mumble something about “want to show you around here, Javi, so much changed after you left” as you throw him a quick grin. He can only concentrate on your nimble fingers between his and how it feels so fucking right before you are dragging him behind you.
You are not his type he has to remind himself as he squeezes your hand tightly.
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Javier comes into the house all muddy once again. It has been raining in Laredo for the past few days - the land all soaked soil and dirt. He takes of his boots before he enters. His nose drags him into the kitchen as he catches the smell of pie. Sweet and delicious - or was it just you, standing here all soft and pretty? He can't tell anymore. These past few weeks were filled with nothing but joy – almost. You played cards with him and Chucho late at night, drinking beer and listening to Chucho's stories. Sometimes you went riding with him on the ranch. Your love for horses didn’t die out and you always were natural with them. You have your favorite one too – the small chestnut-colored mare with a fiery temperament that seems to tolerate only you. Chuho wanted to sell her a long time ago but you begged him on your knees – literally – not to. His eyes softened and he agreed reluctantly – he could never say no to you. Something both Peña men had in common. 
 Anytime Javier looks at you he feels his stomach tighten with something – sometimes arousal but he blames that on the lack of sex, sometimes on something entirely else. He tries to push it deep inside him but whenever he catches your smell his head gets all dizzy and he has the need to find you and talk to you, be near you He hates it. He hates it so fucking much. He doesn’t know what you did to him. He can't seem to shake you out of his mind. He thinks of you anytime he sees the sun setting down or the last time he picked violets for you as he saw them growing a few miles away from the ranch. Because you love violets. He gave them to you with a darker shade of red covering his ears as he scratched his neck. You thanked him and kissed him on the cheek then – his heart hammering in his chest, his pulse quickening and his lower half seemed all too interested in the skin-to-skin contact. As your lips lingered on his cheek as he thought about against what other parts of him would they feel so soft.
  Javi leans against the doorframe as he watches you knead the dough – one of the pies already in the oven. You look so nice in your overalls. He could just bend you over the kitchen counter and -
 Shut the fuck up, Peña. Don’t even think about getting hard.
 You startle when you turn around and see him, your dough-covered hand flying to your chest as you yelp. “Javier Peña, don’t scare me like that!” You scowl at him, your lip pursed and he grins – his hands shooting into the air in a silent apology. 
“Didn't mean to, Bee.” The corner of his lips pulls up as you murmur “sure you didn’t" and turn back around to put more flour in the dough. He quickly washes his hands in the sink and comes behind you – he inhales your scent and closes his eyes. The hair on your neck stands up. “You smell so fucking good.” It's a quiet statement. You look at him wide-eyed and he gives you a confused look in return.
 “What did you say?” Your throat pulls tighter. Shit, shit, shit. 
“Uh-um, that if you'd show me how you knead the dough.” He closes his eyes – idiot, idiot. You breathe out a small “oh” and shake the shock off of you as you nod and come behind him as you grab his hands in yours. 
And fuck, Javier thinks his pulse went from zero to a hundred in this second. His heart feels like it will jump out of his chest any second. Your small hands on his makes him think back to a few weeks ago.
 You stayed at Peñas that night.  You always drove back home but that night it was raining a lot and it was too late anyways. You agreed as Chucho asked you if you wanted to stay – they had a smaller spare room right next to Javis. You bid them both good night and fell asleep quickly after that. You were exhausted but a scream woke you up and you swiftly stood up on your feet and scrambled into Javier's room. He sat on the bed – all sweaty, his breath quick as his head rested in his palms. He looked up at you when the old wooden floor creaked under your footsteps. He cleared his throat and tried to hide from you. You crouched in front of him and offered him a little smile. 
 “You don’t have to hide from me, Javi.” And then he was pulling you into him, breathing you in, his hands pulled around you tightly as he sobbed into your shoulder. He was exhausted of pretending everything was fine. The weight of all the things that he did in Colombia came crashing down on him. You just shushed him as he listened to your heartbeat – his head on your chest, your hand in his as you stroked the back of it. When he finally calmed down he told you everything – the things he did, the things he should have done and the things he shouldn’t have. He told you about Los Pepes and Carilo, and the nightmares that still haunted him. 
 “I am just a shell of a man I once was, Bee.” He whispered into the night and you grabbed both sides of his face as you frowned at him.  
“You are far more than that, Javi.” He wanted to kiss you right there and then but you pulled him on your chest again and he breathed you in once more. The slow rise and fall of your chest lulls him to sleep. He never slept that well in his life.  
When he woke up the other side of the bed was cold but the smell of you – like an apple pie – lingered on the other pillow and he wanted to drown in it. He stroked himself at the thought of you as he smelled the pillow. Your soft hands and the feel of your breasts against his face, the small brush of your lips against his forehead. He came embarrassingly quickly and couldn’t look you straight in the eyes for a few days after that. Neither of you talked about that night. As if it never happened.
So now he curses himself as he feels how he twitches in his pants – the soft swell of your breasts pressed up against his back. The collar of his shirt is a bit too tight as well as his pants. For fucks sake, Peña. He hasn’t slept with anyone since he came back home and it showed. You don’t seem to notice though. 
“You are pretty clumsy with your hands, Javier.” He chokes on seemingly nothing and almost pushes you onto the ground as he stumbles a few steps back. Let me show you how good with my hands I can be - 
“Gotta take a shower.” He says and he takes the steps by two - almost falling over. He closes the door of the bathroom with little more force than necessary. He scrambles with his closes almost ripping them from him and he grabs his aching cock – tugging on it firmly as a spurt of precum shoots out of the head. He steps into the shower – the spray of cold water not helping him calm down his hammering heart or the way his skin seems to be on fire. He strokes himself quickly – the strokes measured as he thinks of your pretty lips around him or that pretty pussy you sure have. He thinks of the swell of your breast on his back, your breath on the back of his neck, your hand in his, your pretty smile and kind eyes. He thinks about how you would feel around him if he pounded into you from behind or what sounds would you make when he would go down on you. How wet would you be? Are you the quiet type or would he have to put his fingers – or something else – in your mouth to shut you up?  
He grunts and his forehead bumps onto the cold tiles of the shower as he cums. He watches how the water downs his spend and he tries to wash the guilt he feels off of him too. 
You are not his type, he thinks as he tugs on his cock for the final time. 
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You are going on a date. Javier watches with a frown on his face as you fumble around to finish the dinner. You are wearing a pretty dress – a light green one with a flowy skirt that exposes the whole expanse of your back. The strings on your shoulder are the only thing keeping it in place. You look absolutely incredible. He didn’t want you to go. Fuck, what if the guy was some kind of psycho? Or worse, what if he was actually a decent guy and you'd stop helping Chucho because you would be too occupied with your new little boy toy? What would Chucho do without you – yes, Chucho of course, not Javier. Javier wasn’t jealous and he definitely wasn’t praying that your date would end up in disaster...Okay, he felt jealous. Like “I will rip that guy in shreds” type of jealous.  
And Javier would be alone tonight – Chucho left in the morning to visit his “friend” - he knows he went to Mária living across from the barber's shop. He didn’t say anythimg – the lie falling out of Chucho’s lips easily. And he felt happy for him – him moving on meant he was healing. Slowly but healing. Javi wanted to do something nice for you two tonight– the store-bought cheesecake lying in the fridge. He thought that you could watch TV today – watch anything you wanted. Maybe then he would slip his hand under the hem of your dress and he would -
“Javi!” You wave your hand in front of his face and he blinks a few times. You even put on makeup – the red lipstick making your lips look downright edible and he licks his own lips. He could pull you in and make you forget about your silly little date. But for once in his life Javier didn’t want to be greedy when it came down to you – you seemed so excited when you told him you had a date and he planted on the best fake smile on his face he could muster. Even though he felt sick to his stomach when you told him, his fingers twitching to catch your wrist and pull you close – to tell you you should fuck that guy and stay with him tonight. “You listening?”
“Sorry, what did you say?” You groan in annoyance – already running late – and you grab him by the collar – oh, he likes this a lot. You are so fucking close he feels your breath fan across his face.
“Listen, Javi. I don’t have time for this. The Chiles Rellenos are in the oven so they won't get cold as quickly. If it gets cold just put it in the microwave.” he nods – he knows this, of course – but wants to keep you busy because maybe then your date would cancel – no, he can't.
“Okay.” He says slowly and you let go of the collar of his shirt – just now noticing you grabbed him by it. You pull away from him. “If anything-”
“I call you. You already told me. Don’t worry, dad. I'll be fine.” You grin and turn on your heel waving a quick goodbye before the doors shut behind you. Javier gulps the growing ball in his throat and curses at himself. Idiota. But you know - of course you are not his type.
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Javier watches the starry sky tonight. The cheesecake forgotten in the fridge alongside your dinner – he felt so sick to his stomach he was pretty sure he'd throw up if he ate anything. The warm blanket his mother knitted lays heavy on his shoulder as he looks at the sky – millions of stars showing tonight. You'd love to see it – maybe you already are. Star-watching sounds like the kind of date you would have loved. He fiddles with the handle of his mug filled with hot cocoa in his lap and thinks. About how he got here, about his fuck ups – and the biggest fuck up he has ever done was to let you go on that stupid date, he concludes. Okay, maybe not the biggest fuck up but close enough. He straightens up when he spots a car pulling into the driveway – your car. A small grin makes its way onto his lips until he sees your sagged shoulders and the slow way you drag your heels behind you.  
“You have room for another in there?” You ask – your voice small compared to when you left. Pointing a finger at the spot next to him. He nods quickly and when you sit he immediately wraps the blanket around your shoulders – your head resting on his shoulder. It's quiet for a while as he offers you his mug and you drink from it leisurely. He knows you will tell him what happened if you want to. The silence is not awkward – it’s a comfortable one. He always feels comfortable with you. You pull away from him and put the mug on the ground – pulling your knees close to your chin.
“Can I ask you something?” You look at him from the corner of your eye, your words muffled by your knees.  
“Anything, Bee.” And he means that. You could ask him anything in the world and he would answer you no matter what question.  
“Why am I not your type? You know, cuz it seems I am no one's type.” He knows you are referring to the time when he was angry at you after you slapped him. But he didn’t mean to say it. He doesn’t know how to answer – his tongue heavy all of the sudden and fuck, why is so hard to just tell you.
Rather than answering you he twists his torso so he can look at you – really look at you. The moonlight shines on half of your face and how did he never notice how pretty your eyes were? Or your plush lips, your soft hair? He gulps as he reaches forward tentatively – his palm resting on the side of your face now. And he expects you to pull away – to tell him to fuck off. But you don’t. His throat is dry and he feels like his lungs can't seem to have enough oxygen in them because his brain seems to stop functioning too. He brushes his fingertips across your cheek and you would have never expected that Javier Peña could be so gentle with his touch. He looks at your lips – your mouth open just a tiny bit and he sees your Adam's apple bob. Do you want this as much as he does? Or is he imagining things and projecting his own fucked up desires and feelings onto you at this very moment? He doesn’t have much time to think about it before your fingers tangle into his hair at the back of his head, his breath picks up and your mouth surges forward – your lips meeting his.  
He feels like fireworks just exploded in his stomach. His skin tingles and his hands brush against the front of your dress. Your hand on his nape makes him groan into you and he brushes your collarbone with his calloused hand. He wanted this for so long and he didn’t even know about it. The other grabs you by the neck and pulls you even closer – the blanket falling off of you two when you swing your legs on either side of his narrow hips. He presses his lips against yours with more force and he is confident and greedy with it. He curls his hand around your waist and his fingertips dig into your hip while the other hand presses into your shoulder blades. He can feel the blood rushing through his veins and he is warm and fuzzy all over – his body humming with something he never felt before.
You were never kissed this way before – Javier takes, and takes but gives back even more in return. The kiss is impatient and hungry – like he waited for this all of his life. His hands on your skin make you hum out in pleasure and you trail your hand to his jaw – you can feel the stumble he has under your fingertips. You open your mouth to him and the hand on your hip squeezes you tighter, and he wants you closer, closer – this is not enough. Not close enough. And you feel the same as you pull him closer by the collar and he groans into your mouth.  You can taste the warm cocoa on his tongue and his smell invades all your senses – cigarettes, his cologne and something entirely him. Musky and sweet. Your cheeks burn and your palms are sweaty when he pulls away from the kiss – his hands brushing along the exposed skin on your back, his thumb circling your hip. His forehead rests on yours as he tries to calm down and your nails scrape across his exposed chest – he always has a few buttons unbuttoned on his shirt and it drives you insane. He moans when he feels the sensation of your nails on his skin – his hips bucking up to meet yours and you mewl as you feel the bulge press up against your core.
“Fuck, Bee. I want to fuck you so badly. Do you want that too? Tell me. Tell me, please.” Javier Peña said please. He never says please. Yoou nod furiously as you peck him on the lips – his mouth surges to meet yours once again and you lap at his lower lip, your hands fisting into the material of his shirt.  
“Wanted this since I was 16 and crazy in love with you, Javi.” You whisper against his lips and your confession makes his heart beat with joy. You loved him. He grips the flesh on your hips and mumbles a breathy “okay” before he stands up and carries you with him – your legs wrap around his middle. He stumbles a few times and almost trips on the stairs as he keeps kissing you – his tongue nibbling at your collarbones, his hands supporting your weight as he holds you by the back of your thighs.  
When you arrive in his room he throws you on the bed and starts to quickly undress. His fingers shake and he can't seem to unbutton the fucking shirt. Fuck. He stands in front of the edge of the bed and you lean back on your elbows – your gaze heavy with lust. As you see him struggling you crawl onto the edge of the bed and loop your fingers between his belt. He stops and looks at you – you eye the heavy bulge between his thighs and he gulps when your fingers trail his jean-clad cock which jumps with interest under your touch. He has never been this fucking hard before and he knows it's not because for the past few months, the only thing he has been fucking was his fist – it's because of you. “Let me.” You murmur and he nods, he watches your nimble fingers working on his buttons and when he shackles the piece of clothing off him your hands map out his chest, coming down to his belly button and you lick your lips when you see the trail of hairs leading down into the waistband of his jeans. You kiss him right there – on the soft swell of his tummy – and he jumps forward, his hands gripping your head to keep you there. You grin against his skin and your tongue pokes out of your mouth to lick him there – he shudders, and the grip on your head loosens. You pull away from him and your hands start working on his belt – it falls to the ground with a quiet cling of the metal.  
You cup him in your hand through the fabric of his jeans – even now you can feel how heavy he is and that he will feel fucking big inside of you. “You are a big boy aren't you, Javi?” He whimpers at your question and nods furiously as he looks down at you – your gaze immediately locking with his as you are already peering up at him through your eyelashes and you pout at his state. You never expected Javier to be so...needy. He closes his eyes when you squeeze him again and then he hears the sound of a zipper, he feels your breath ghosting over his tip. “No underwear?” He shakes his head and chokes when you lick the salty precum.
“No-no. Fuck. Too uncomfortable.” His eyes close as if he's in pain and his nostril flare when he feels the first velvety slide of your tongue against his cock. Your pulse quickens and you feel too fucking powerful right now as you feel him swell even more in your mouth. You hold his gaze as you pull off of him and flatten your tongue – licking your way to the underside of his cock. His hands cradle the back of your head, his pupils completely blown as he watches you put open-mouth kisses onto the hard warm flesh that jumps under your attention.  
And he is fucking big – his size obvious by sight and by the way he feels around your hand – heavy and warm. But you really feel it when you take him deeper into your throat the girth of his cock opens your mouth wider. The broken sound between a whimper and a groan makes you clench around nothing and he tastes exactly how you imagined him – clean and delicious – exactly like Javier looks. You can't fit all of him in your mouth but you try – focusing on your breathing and relaxing your throat – the squelching sounds of your mouth bobbing up and down his length filling the room. You try to take him deeper and deeper – until you gag around him and pull away. Javis's mouth is wide open when you pull off of him – spit trailing from your lips and connecting you to the swollen tip of his cock. His chest heaves and he swipes his thumb across your bottom lip – collecting the saliva – and puts it in his mouth – he groans with approval and it makes you want to give him more.  You sink your awaiting mouth back onto his cock once more and moan when another spurt of precum lands on your tongue. Your hand is securely wrapped around the base of his cock as you stroke him slowly and you look back up at him.
He looks absolutely and positively wrecked – his hair falling in front of his eyes and sticking to his forehead as he grits his teeth struggling to not make you take him deeper – to not fuck your throat. His grip on your hair tightens as he starts panting harshly and you feel him twitch in your mouth – you can feel he is almost there – but then he pulls back from you.
He almost lifts you into the air as his tongue delves into your mouth – wanting to taste himself on you. The bitterness of himself on your tongue makes him groan into your mouth and you never expected him to be this vocal. He steps out of his jeans and then he is back on you – his fingers working on the straps of your dress while he plants butterfly kisses on the column of your throat. He discards the piece of clothing as if it has offended him somehow and he pulls back to look at you – you can see the muscle on his thigh flex as he tries to keep his balance on his heels. His hands reach back for you – grabbing you under your knees before he is pulling you closer to him. His fingers dip into the waistband of your panties before they are too thrown somewhere behind him.  
His thick fingers work their way inside you without a warning – two of them plunging deep. You are soft, and pliant under him. Your walls squeeze him tight when he moves his finger up, up – until you sob and grab his wrist - to stop him or to plea for him to keep doing that you aren't sure. It never felt like this and he grins against the flesh of your cheek – kissing you there softly. His other hand grabs one of your tits and he pinches the nipple – it hardens under his hard touch. He bends down to suck it into his mouth and your hand shoots out to the back of his head – keeping him there. One of your thighs is firmly planted on his shoulder and his fingernails dig into your ankle, the blunt nails creating crescent shapes. Your heel digs into his shoulder with a particular shove into your cunt – the tips of his fingers brushing against something that makes you hold your breath.
The way you keep repeating his name makes him want to never leave your perfect cunt. His name and the wet sounds of your pussy sucking him in make him light-headed. He wishes no one would call him Javi again after he hears it from your mouth – whiny and high-pitched, filled with the need to let go.  
“Come on, Bee. I can feel you squeezing me. Fucking give it to me. I want you to soak my fingers.” You nod vigorously and sob when his thumb starts drawing harsh circles against your clit. He hits nerves inside of you you didn’t even knew you had before. You take everything he gives – the flick of his wrist, his fingers petting your walls, his mouth on yours. You cum when he bites you into the juncture between your shoulder and neck – his tongue smoothing the bite. You feel him smile against your mouth when you cry out into him – his fingers still working inside of you until you wheeze and tell him to stop. He pulls them out and maps your body with your juices – the slick trail shining under the moonlight that falls onto the both of you.  
He reaches into his nightstand and pulls out a condom – ripping the foil packet between his teeth before he puts it onto his length. He sits up on his heels – his cock bobbing with the movement and you gulp as he pats his thigh – telling you to come to him and you do – all jelly legged and sedated after your first orgasm. He pulls you close by the small of your back and his cock nudges against your entrance when you swing your legs around his waist. His hairy legs stick to the back of your thighs and you can feel the sweat rolling off him – his hands supporting you as you sink down on him. Your mouth forming into an “o” and you let out a breathless moan. You knew he was big – as his girth opened up your mouth more and the weight of him heavy on your tongue. But this feels entirely different. You squirm on his lap and he grunts – his other hand coming down onto the flesh of your ass. The pinch you feel as he fills you completely is uncomfortable and you grip his bicep – your nails digging into the flesh there. He hisses and kisses you – the kiss languid and slow. His tongue traces your mouth and your grip loosens – your muscles start to relax.
 “Javi, you are so big.” You don’t say him to make him feel better or feed his ego – it's just a fact. Clear and simple. His nose bumps against yours and he looks into your eyes – he is so close he is breathing the oxygen you exhale. 
 “I know, hermosa. But you can take it. Can’t you?” The new term of endearment falling out of his mouth is surprising but welcome nevertheless. He waits for your answer as he fights himself not to move – your walls squeezing around him and he counts to five so he doesn’t cum right now like some kind of fucking teenager.
  Javier slept with a lot of women. One night stands, prostitutes, his fiancé. But he never felt like this with anyone. His heart never hammered in his chest so quickly and the blood in his veins didn’t boil. His skin never felt like it was on fire by a simple touch. It's new and he welcomes it with open arms. He is tired of fighting and running. This is his new life and it's not too bad – it's better than it ever was. He never feels small with you and he chases that feeling.
 “Yes, I can. I can take it. Please move, Javi.” He listens to your command – the first drag of his cock through your walls feels intoxicating. His hot breath fans against your chest as his forehead rests on it and his hand that was gripping your ass moves to your hip – dragging you up and down his cock as you meet his every perfectly measured thrust. He maps your body and listens to your reactions – he figures out what you like or what you really don’t after a few minutes as he pounds into you.
You don’t know which one of you is louder but it makes him even sexier – the guys you’ve been with before weren't so enthusiastic about it and you felt like they didn’t even wanted to be there – the only hint of them enjoying it was when they came with a quiet grunt and fall onto the bed next to you. Javier is different – he always was – and you live for all the sounds he makes. How he gropes you and maps out your body – his fingers dipping into every crease and curve of your body. And you can feel that in each thrust there is this hidden emotion that he doesn’t want to show. But you grew up with him and can read him pretty well – and your heart swells with the unspoken words. You don’t need to hear them. He will figure it out himself eventually.  
He feels that you are close after he gives you a particularly hardh thrust and you squeal – your nails scratching his muscular back that you’ve been ogling anytime he came out of the shower without a t-shirt or when it was too hot outside and decided the piece of clothing wasn’t necessary in that kind of weather. His mustache scrapes along the flesh on your breasts and you feel his hips shift – the change of position making him feel even bigger. He puts his thumb into your mouth as he looks at you and you suck it – it tastes of you and sweat but you don’t care – as he pulls it out and starts rubbing your clit with it.
 It only takes a few drags of his cock before you are cumming – your clit throbbing as he keeps pressure on it. Your walls squeeze him and he feels like he can't move any further. Your fingers curl into his hair and tug him so he is looking at you. He is all lust-blown eyes and his baring teeth turned into a snarl. You can feel every vein and bump in his cock with every thrust and he twitches inside of you – his hand coming to hold the hinge of your jaw as his tongue tangles with yours once again. It's frantic as are his deep thrusts and you are pretty sure he will break the bed soon – the headboard hitting the wall with every pass of his hips. You admire how fucking lost in you he looks – slack-jawed and dazed. You tug on his hair once more and the reaction is almost instant – his hips faltering for a moment seemingly losing his rhythm. 
“Come on, Javi. I want you to look at me when you cum.” Your requests makes him shut his eyes before he shudders and opens them – your name a broken record when he spills into the condom. You scratch him on the back of his head – your movements slow and languid. He pulls out of you after a moment – when he catches his breath and his heartbeat evens out – even though when he is with you it seems impossible. 
The aftercare is soft and sweet as he lays on his back and pulls you close to him – stroking your spine and kissing the top of your head. 
“Do you want me to leave?” He pulls you tighter against him after you ask him that and he grips your chin so you look at him. 
“Never again, Bee. I want you right here with me.” You sigh in contentment and give him a sweet kiss.
 You are definitely his type, Javier thinks as he feels your breath even out and slowly, he falls asleep too – you in his arms – and he wouldn’t have it any other way. 
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storiesfromafan · 1 month
Text
She's A Spitfire - Benny x Reader
A/N: I can't help myself. This one's a little different, readers sassy haha. And this one is a long one.
Enjoy, and let me know what you think. Also, feel free to send requests :)
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Boys and their toys, you always think when it comes to your boyfriend and his other biker club buddies and their motorcycles. Or anything with wheels really. And for their love of them, you found your Saturday out with the boyfriend, and his boys, at what started as a car show. But now also sported motorcycles, from a few different clubs.
Troy and his friends were discussing who’s bike was better, or what car looked the best. You didn’t know, it was all so boring. So you and three other women, partners of other bikers, were sitting around on blankets, taking in the sun and gossiping. Leaning back on your arms, one leg stretched out while the other propped up, you tilted your head back, eyes closed taking in the sun.
“Jeez (Y/N), do you need to be more on display!” Becky said with a chuckle.
To her words you popped your chest out more, smirk crossing your red lips.
“Better hope Troy don’t see ya” commented Danni.
“So what if he does? I do what I want, not what he wants” you remarked, making them all cackle with laughter.
“Can’t believe the other clubs here” Pam said rattling off names. “...Rogues and Vandals” she finishes.
“Just more bike wired men, who enjoy vibrations between there legs, and have drinking problems” you said offhandedly, making the women laugh more.
You always say what you want, making people think you were born with no filter. And that was fine with you. Even if it does get you in some trouble from time to time. The last time it was between you and another woman at the clubs bar, she had been mouthy and flirting up a storm with Troy. You called her out, she ignored you. So, you gave her some truths from her choice in clothes to her hair and skin care routine. She wasn’t a fan of you after that, going straight to slap you, but you caught her hand and gave her a serving of her own.
After that no woman in that bar messed with you, or your boyfriend. But that didn’t stop Troy from messing around on you. His taste seemed to have changed to cutesy, good girls who wore sweet dresses and heels. Even with this knowledge you still put up with him. But his time was coming, you could feel it. When the time was right you’d get your revenge.
“Sweet lord and Jesus’s!” Breathed out Danni, looking across the way, her glasses pulled down her nose, eyes looking over the top of them. “He should be illegal!”
You rolled your eyes at her words. After all her taste was – excuse the language – in her ass about eight out of ten times.
“Oh my” Pam said moving to swing her body around to face where Danni was looking. “Is he real!?”
Alright, now your interest was piqued. Lolling your head to the right, you searched for what those two were gawking at. And boy did you find it. He was tall, strong build. Dressed in a black t-shirt, jacket, dirty white jeans and matching dirty boots. He had messy blonde locks that one could run their hand through, or as you like, to pull on. Of course he was a Vandal, as his colors said when he turned around to take a beer from another Vandal. Then he took a swig of it, making the simplest of actions make you think not so clean thoughts.
“Someone serve me a slice of that”  Becky said with a dreamy voice. You all agreeing with her.
You moved a hand to draw down your sunglasses, needing to see him in the days full light. Glare be damned, you needed this. Without the glasses tint, he looked even better. He was talking to the man that gave him the beer, nodding his head to whatever said. Another two men walked over, one with his arm slung over the other in an attempted to keep standing up, possibly from a little too much to drink. They laughed, talking to blondie before the one holding up his buddy slapped him on the arm, head gesturing in your direction.
All four of you froze, like a deer in headlights as blondie turned his gaze to you all. His friends continuing to talk and laugh, no doubt mentioning you four staring. Maybe encouraging blondie to come over. But he didn’t move, eyes locked on you all, or was it you? You weren’t sure. He took another swig from his bottle, yet never took his eyes off you. Feeling the butterflies swarming your stomach, you put your sunglasses back on, before lolling your head back to where it had been. You had started to feel exposed by his staring, so you had to cut it off, and get back your bad bitch energy.
Benny had made his way over to Johnny and Brucie after taking a leek. They were in deep conversation about an upcoming picnic, discussing the finer details. Johnny had handed him a beer, which he thanked him for before taking a long swig.
“Some of the women think kids shouldn’t be attendin’. Saying too many men are getting stoned or drunk, doesn’t set a good example” laughed Brucie.
Johnny shook his head. “It’s a family picnic, kids have to be there. What ya think Benny?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah kids should be there” Benny said not really paying much mind.
It didn’t matter to him much if kids were at the picnic. But knowing how Johnny likes to bridge his family and club life. It was a small thing to let him enjoy both, even for a small time. It was then that Benny spotted Wahoo and Corky making their way over. Corky had his arm over Wahoo, using his counter part as a crutch from drinking too much. When they finally made it over, Johnny asked them the same question he asked Benny. They both attempted to make a few jokes about it, but they weren’t funny.
“I don’t care if there’s kids, as long as they stay out of my way” Wahoo said, Corky nodding his head.
Johnny nodded his head. Decision made, tradition will stand and its a full family friendly picnic. With that decided Benny listened to the two new comers talk about Zipco going on about Pinko's, before Wahoo's attention moved to across the way. A smirk formed on his lips before he turned back to Benny.
“Seems ya got an audience” Wahoo mused, slapping Benny’s arm and head gesturing to across from them.
Confused, Benny looked to where Wahoo had been looking. There on a blanket sat four women. Three of them were sitting up right and gawking, while the fourth was lounging back. Out of all of them, she was the one to catch Benny’s attention. The position she was in, her chest sticking out in her tight sweater, was a pleasant sight to the masses. Dark slacks covered her slender legs, making him wonder what they’d be like straddling his bike, or his lap. Over all she was a vixen, no doubt a spitfire, if the air she gave off implied.
Wahoo and Corky kept talking, making comments about the women. But then they talked about her. Voicing Benny’s thoughts. Yet he didn’t like it one bit. He thought those words and thoughts should just be from him, no other man. Feeling his mouth dry, Benny brought the beer to his lips and took a drink. But made sure to keep his eyes on her. The cause for needing that drink.
“You should go over there Benny” Johnny stated, watching the younger man. “Go introduce yourself”.
Benny thought it over, maybe he should. What’s the harm it could do? What’s the worst that could happen? You would say no, that’s nothing. Feeling confident Benny watched as the focus of his gaze put her glasses back on, turned her head, and go back to enjoying the sun. He handed Johnny his half full bottle before pulling out a cigarette and lighting it up, the only time he took his eyes off her. After taking a drag, Benny looked to the women again, slowly releasing the smoke from his mouth.
“I’ll be back” was all Benny said before putting the cigarette back between his lips.
You listened to the sounds the girls made, Pam gushing over when blondie took a drag of his cigarette. You had to stop yourself from turning to look at him, you had to remain calm. You never give a man power over you, and by jumping at any little thing would do that.
“Oh lord! He’s coming this way!” Becky said slapping Pam’s arm. “Do I look alright!?”
“You?! What about me?!” Retorted Pam.
You sighed. “Calm down girls, he’s just a man” you sighed.
“A fine man, yes” muttered Danni.
Once more you sighed before turning your head slightly, watching blondie slowly walking your way. You reminded the girls to stay calm. But part of you was trying to tell yourself it too. Blondie continued to smoke his cigarette, which now you understood the girls reaction. He really did make anything look good. Finally reaching you, blondie came around to stand beside you, before squatting down. He took the cigarette from his lips and flicked it away, done with it.
“Hey” came his gravelly voice. “I'm Benny”. A beautiful smile crossed his sinful lips.
You did your best to keep breathing as you pulled down your sunglasses, looking Benny in the eyes, beautiful baby blues watching your every move. “Hi Benny, I’m (Y/N)” you replied sweetly, smile gracing your lips.
“Hmm, pretty name for a pretty vixen” Benny mused, making you chuckle. “Hey ladies” Benny added looking to the women sitting around you.
They weakly said hi back, unsure of their own voices.
“You know how to get women to quiet down, huh?” You mused pushing your sunglasses back up.
Benny laughed. “Don’t know, never taken notice before”.
You smiled at his honesty.
“But it doesn’t seem to work on you, aye?” Benny asked teasingly.
“Unfortunately, nope” was your simple reply. But in your head you were gushing.
“I like that” he stated looking you up and down. “You got a man?”
You smirked. “Yeah I do. Why? Think you could handle me?”
Benny chuckled, “more could you handle me, baby?”
“I can handle anythin' Benny. I’m not afraid of anythin’”. That was a lie, but you couldn’t back down. Nor could you stop yourself. His attention was electrifying. But part of you feared Benny could make you go weak, could even fall for him and his baby blues.
“Oh is that so?” Benny asked, smirking at the banter between you both.
“Yep” you replied tilting your head back and sighing, knowing full well you were teasing the biker.
And what about Troy? All you thought was Troy who? He had his fun with sweet girls, even though he had a sultry woman. If he was having his cake and eating it too, you could tease another biker. And if Troy hears about it, you didn’t care. You were done with his crap.
“Shame you have a man, as I’d love to take you for a ride on my bike” Benny said, with a sad face. “But, as you said, you have a man...”
You almost caved, melting at his words and sad look. But you stayed strong. It couldn’t hurt to give him some hope, right?
“Hmm, I guess it is for ya. But you never know, play your cards right and you just might get me on your bike”. You pulled down your glasses, shot him a wink before putting them back in their place.
Oh how Benny wanted to groan from your flirty ways, and that wink. Cherry on top. Licking his lips, Benny took a moment to focus. You were clouding his head, but in a good way.
“Alright baby, when you’re ready let me know”.
With that Benny stood up, and took his leave. He walked back to the guys he’d left. You watched him walk away, loving the view. All three women did, was just as good as him walking over. Then they turned their sights on you, all in a state of shock and awe.
“What?” You asked innocently. Though far from it.
All three began to talk, questioning you what just happened? If you were crazy? What about Troy? Could you to teach them your ways, and so on. You ended up laughing with every question. Laughing to the point you ended up laying on the blanket on your back, a hand coming to cover your mouth while sticking the other out in an attempt to stop them.
“Alright, alright. Enough!” You exclaimed, out of breath.
“Seriously (Y/N), what was that?” Asked Danni with confusion.
You shrugged, moving to rest your hands behind your head. “Dunno, but it was fun. Benny is quite the dish, am I right?”
“What about your boyfriend?” Inquired Pam.
Again you shrugged. “He doesn’t have to know”.
Becky scoffed. “Yeah, if you weren’t out in the open, surrounded by people. He’s gonna hear about it”.
“Oh well” you sighed. “Will make things interestin’”.
All three women shared a look. “Maybe. Or cause a brawl”.
You looked to them. “No doubt a brawl will happen. Whoever wins can have me”.
And with that you turned your face back to the sky, closing your eyes and trying to remain calm. Your heart was racing with the thought of Troy flaring up, you enjoy a verbal fight because it would lead to a hot make up session back home. But after learning the truth of what your boyfriend has been up to, you really didn’t want to have words with him. You thought about ending things, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. So, this could be your chance to drop him.
And Benny. Where do you begin with Benny. The man was gorgeous, dangerously tempting. Plus he was just as taken with you, as you were him. Or else he wouldn’t have been flirting. You’d gladly get on his bike, and let him take you for a ride. Take that anyway you want. Now you would sit back and see what happens.
Benny made it back to his friends, Johnny holding out his beer with a smirk. “Pleasant chat, hmm?”
He smirked taking the bottle. “Yeah, she’s a spitfire”.
The men laughed, Wahoo clapping Benny on the back. The men joked and talked, all about watching Benny and the spitfire. Benny took a swig from the bottle, chuckling at his friends. Glancing back over to her and her friends, Benny noticed that she was now laying on the blanket. It didn’t help him one bit. The things he was thinking he could do to her.
“So, when you taking her for a ride?” Corky asked wiggling his eyebrows, double meaning to his question.
Benny shook his head looking to the male. “She’s got a man”.
“When has that stopped you?” Laughed Wahoo.
Benny laughed at his question, he had a point. “She did say if I played my cards right and I just might get her on my bike”.
Corky and Wahoo hollered and hooted, Johnny just shaking his head with a smile on his face before taking a sip from his beer. Brucie clinked his beer bottle with Benny’s, showing his praise. Benny felt like he was on his bike, riding down an open road, the rush of freedom. But he wasn’t on his bike, or riding the open road. It was because of her. The spitfire, vixen with red lips and sultry presence.
“I take it the boyfriend is here?” Johnny suddenly asked, breaking Benny from thought.
He shrugged. “Probably”.
“I’d expect he’ll hear about you talkin’ to his girl, ya know?”
“Yeah. I can handle him” Benny said without a care, drinking more of his beer.
“The boyfriend should be the worried one” laughed Corky.
They know he was right, but didn’t voice it. They all know Benny was ruthless when it comes to a fight. To the point he has to be pulled off the other guy. Past brawls have proven that. Johnny having to wrap his arms around Benny and drag him back, which is hard when Benny sees red.
“Cross that bridge when it comes” Benny said, ending it there with him walking off.
It was later in the afternoon when Troy finally surfaced, after leaving you with your friends for hours. By now you sitting on the blanket, deep in conversation with the girls. But always keeping an eye on Benny, and seeing he did the same. You might have even kept teasing him, which got the desired effect; want. Yes, you continued to fan the flame, fully knowing that could or would it engulf everything.
Back to Troy; he came stomping over, a couple of his friends behind him. Troy had heard gossip through out the day of some biker hitting on a stunning woman. Gradually all the pieces coming out and he found out that woman was you. Furry filled him. His girl talking to another biker, another biker having the guts to speak to his girl.
“Oh shit!” cursed Danni. “Here comes the consequence”.
Not quiet getting what she meant, you looked over your shoulder to see your boyfriend heading your way. “Well, it took him long enough” you sighed, moving to stand.
Once on your feet, you dusted your legs and behind. Then you fixed your top, not even showing a care in the world. On the inside you were uneasy. Questioning how he was going to react. Would he yell and jump up and down? Would he quietly yell at you? You’re about to find out.
“(Y/N)! What’s this I’m hearin' about some Vandal talkin' to ya!?” Troy questioned, seething with anger.
You raised your bored gaze to him. “Just that, talkin’ to me. And?”
That didn’t help. Troy’s anger rose to furry. He grabbed your arm – tightly – and pulled you close. “What was that! Tell me now what happened or so help me”.
Your straightened up, keeping your face calm, as you tried to pull your arm free. “Troy, let go of my arm. You’re hurtin’ me!” Your voice raised in volume, but fell on deaf ears.
“Tell me if you’re whoring around” he yelled, starting to catch the attention of others.
“Ha. I’m far from whoring around Troy” you gritted out, still trying to free your arm. “Unlike you, of course”.
He growled, shaking you, grip only getting tighter. “What ya sayin’, huh!?”
Before you could think or say anything, you saw a fist come flying and make contact with Troy’s face. His grip finally freeing your arm as he staggered back a few steps. You held your arm, moving back from the man. Finally processing what happened, you turned to see Benny standing there, breathing heavy with tightly clutched fists.
“She asked you to let her go” Benny heaved. “No man should ever grab a woman like you did”.
Benny had just gotten back with Cal, after taking a walk to check out some bikes. Upon his return he witnessed a man, hell bent on reaching his destination, with an anger that only spelt trouble. And when he stopped before you, Benny knew what was to come. A verbal altercation or a physical one to defend you. As soon as he grabbed your arm, Benny began to slowly walk over, Cal and Johnny right behind him. Benny heard everything said. Accusing you of whoring around and his grip tightening to the point you were trying to get free, was what did it. And he swung his fist.
“You alright spitfire?” Benny asked looking over his shoulder at you. Choosing the new nickname over his favorite; baby.
You were putting on a brave face, he could tell but didn’t say anything. “I’m alright. But gonna have a nice bruise”.
Holding his cheek, Troy watched you both. A sneer on his face. “Take it you’re the Vandal this whore was flirtin’ with” he spat.
It only stoked the flame in Benny. How dare this man so easily doubt you, call you a whore. “If anythin’ I’m the one who talked to her” Benny defended flexing his hands, itching to connect them to his face some more.
Troy laughed. “No need to lie for her. She ain’t nothin’ but trouble”.
You felt anger rising, replacing the unease. “Other way around baby” you spat out.
Troy’s laughter died, eyes narrowing in on you. “Stay out of it sweetheart, the men are talkin’”
“Man” you corrected, “I only see one and he’s defendin’ me”.
That got under his skin, and Troy made to go for you but Benny grabbed him before pushing him back. “I wouldn’t even try it”.
Troy laughed dryly. “Might straighten her out”.
That was it, last strike. Benny lost it, fist connecting with Troy’s face again and then again. The first time Troy copped the full hit, but managed to get a half block in. Then he returned Benny’s fists with his own, getting a hit in. You moved away from them, calling out for them to stop but they weren’t listening. Troy’s buddy’s went in to helped their friend, but Cal and Johnny made sure they were taken care of. A full on three way brawl was taking place, with so many on lookers.
Troy managed to dodge Benny and step away from him, but unlucky for him Benny charged at him, tackling him to the ground and waling on him. This was when Cal and Johnny noticed the anger of their friend. Troy’s buddies just watching, afraid to step in to help him. Johnny was the one to grab Benny, but he couldn’t pull him away, until Cal helped him. They were telling Benny to stop, it was enough. Sitting on the grass, both men with him, holding an arm. Benny saw the damage he’d done, to Troy and his own hands. Spitting he went to stand, his friends moving to help him.
“Don’t ever say those words about or too (Y/N) again, or to anyone. Ya hear!?” Benny’s voice was breathless and more gravelly.
Troy just nodded his head, making noises in pain.
Benny turned to you. “Sorry about that spitfire, just don’t like a man disrespecting a woman”.
You nodded, offering a small smile. “Thanks for coming to my rescue”.
He chuckled, “always” and winked. Yet it hurt from getting clocked in the eye.
“Alright, come on. Let’s get ya cleaned up” Johnny said patting Benny on the back, and starting to uncomfortably walk back to his spot.
Cal also patted Benny before walking back too.
Benny looked back to you. “Ya comin’ baby?” He asked, not caring anymore and just calling you what he wanted.
You smiled grabbing your bag and stepping up to him. “Sure Benny”.
He wrapped his arm around you and you both moved to pass Troy, before he grabbed your slacks. “What about me? Ya boyfriend?”
You looked to Benny, before moving from his arm and leaning down to Troy. “It’s over. Plain and simple”.
He sputtered. “Huh!? Who’s gonna look after me!?”
You smiled at his sweetly. “I dunno, maybe ask Anna or Stefanie or Doris to take care of you. Because this whore ain’t ya girl anymore”.
With that, you put Benny’s arm around you again and you both headed over to his friends. You helped clean up Benny’s hands and face. He liked having your attention on him, liked how careful you were cleaning and wrapping up his hands. Once done you took a seat next to him with a sigh, head leaning back against the car you were both sitting beside.
“Sorry you had to step in back there” you said softly. “I didn’t expect that to happen”.
Benny chuckled. “It’s my fault. I struck first, talk later. It’s my style”.
You laughed, a genuine laugh. “Well, how about we both say sorry then”.
Benny nodded. “Sounds good to me”.
A comfortable silence fell between you too. You looked over to your friends, who were glancing at you both occasionally. Were they still your friends? After all they were with other bikers in Troy’s club. So, where does this leave you, with such a public break up too. Only time would tell.
Feeling restless you sat up and turned to Benny. “Your offer still stands for a ride on your bike?”
He looked at you with a raised eyebrow.
“I feel like I need a change of scenery” you gestured to your friends, as well as Troy and his boys further behind the girls.
He nodded before standing. Benny held out his hand and you took it carefully, before he pulled you up, not caring about the pain. You wanted to leave, go anywhere from here and what happened. Leading you to his bike, it didn’t take long for him to get on and start the bike up, the roar catching people’s attention. Without trouble you got on behind him, hands wrapping around his body, hands resting against his firm stomach. Then Benny took off, heading out and onto the road. Letting his bike take you both wherever, and enjoy the freedom it gives you both.
268 notes · View notes
multi-kpop-fanfics · 1 year
Text
(quite) big (not so) bad wolves
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pairing: bunny hybrid fem!reader x wolf hybrid!Seungcheol x wolf hybrid!Joshua x wolf hybrid!Mingyu (ft. fox hybrid!Yeji and fox hybrid!Wooyoung)
genre: smut, pwop. minors dni.
warnings: mentions of alcohol and medication, foursome, all of them are mean doms (especially shua), breeding (stay safe), face fucking, double penetration, knotting, knotfucking, manhandling, degradation, reader is a brat through and through, voyeurism, choking
word count: ~3.4k
summary: everyone is scared of the big bad wolf in fairytales - not you though. you love them a little too much for your own good.
Author’s note: writing break time is over hoes, back to business for good :D
nsfw taglist: @rosecult @bibinnieposts @ovai @littlemisssarcastic21 @tinkerbell460 @jonghyuns-husband @romromthedeer @y00nzin0 @llsiriusminorisll @booyouwhore17 @delicatewerewolfsoul @aliceu
special taglist (aka suffering): @smileysuh @lovelyhan @duhnova @himbocoups @junkissed @idyllic-ghost @flowerwonu @playmetheclassics​ @sluttyminghao​
©multi-kpop-fanfics, 2023. No reposting allowed. No translations allowed without permission.
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“It fucking stinks in here,” Yeji complains with a whine, “I know their hormones are through the roof but fuck, take a damn bath!”
“You’re saying this because you took two showers and poured an entire perfume bottle on you before we left,” you giggle, sipping on your cocktail.
“At least I can enjoy my cocktail without having to worry about heat meds.” 
“Yeah…Sure….,” you gulp down, feigning innocence. 
“Oh, you fucking slut.” Yeji pokes her cheek with her tongue, “You never took heat suppressants, did you?”
“Okay no I didn’t, so what?” You admit with a sassy glare.
“Well I hope I won’t end up all alone because your pussy decided to ditch me for some hybrid dick.” She clicks her glass with yours.
“I think the two-tone haired fox over there has a different opinion than yours,” you nod towards the approaching male.
“Good evening, ladies,” he smoothly enters the conversation while swirling his whiskey, “I take it there was an interesting topic under discussion?”
“Yeah, you,” Yeji blurts out without thinking, “Uh, I mean, shit-”
“It’s okay,” he laughs, swishing his silver marble colored tail, “I’m Wooyoung, by the way.”
“I’m Yeji and that’s my friend, Y/N-”
“Who is about to be left all alone,” you joke and your friend swats her tail at your leg with a dull thud.
“You saw right through me - but I guess it’s expected from someone like you,” Wooyoung comments.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Yeji raises her eyebrow in question.
“Despite looking cute and rather vulnerable, bunnies are highly intelligent.”
“Oh that’s what you mean - Although Y/N is pretty smart, bunny hybrid or not,” the female fox grins and she earns an affectionate glance from you.
“I appreciate the compliments, but I think the both of you have much better things to do,” you give them a knowing smile.
“Have fun, Y/N!” Yeji excitedly kisses your cheek before taking off with her newfound company.
“And stay away from the predators, bunny. If you know what I mean.” Wooyoung sends you a sly wink, making you roll your eyes dramatically.
“Aaaaand I’m all alone. Wonderful,” you sigh audibly, looking at your cocktail, “Welp, cheers to me, I guess.”
You take a look around the bar, your eyes scan the other patrons - some are alone like you, some are drinking with their friends and others are flirting with their dates.
"One Hennessy on rocks."
Your ears perk up at the smooth voice on your left and your nose is filled with a very attractive scent. You slowly turn your head towards the source of your current torture and you swear you feel yourself swooning over the handsome stranger.
Silky black hair, slicked back with a few strands falling down on his forehead. Smooth, doll-like skin and rosy lips tenderly touching the rim of the glass.
God, you really want to suck his dick.
"Take a picture, it will last longer." He breaks the silence without looking at you and your cheeks start heating up.
"Oh shit- I-"
"It's okay, I was just messing with you" he chuckles, "Mind if I sit here?"
"I mean, nobody's sitting here," you point to the empty seat next to you and he slides into it with one smooth move.
"Hi."
"Hey there."
"What's your name?"
"I'm Y/N. And you?"
"I'm Joshua. You have a pretty name." He takes a sip from his glass.
"Thank you. And you have a pretty face." You reply and mirror his movements.
"So…what brings you here, Y/N?"
"Just wanted to have a good time with my friend. What about you, Joshua?"
"Just wanted to have a good time without my friends," he laughs, "Where is your friend though?"
"Oh, she kinda ditched me for a fox guy - He was pretty though, not gonna lie."
"Ugh, foxes - Was never fond of them." He grimaces.
"Hey, that's my friend you're talking about!"
"Your friend is a fox hybrid?"
"Yeah, what's wrong with being friends with a fox?"
"Are you kidding me? You're a bunny hybrid!" Joshua laughs, "But then again, you're talking to me right now."
"You're so funny." You snort into your drink.
"Funny?"
"Just because you're a wolf hybrid doesn't mean you're the big bad wolf, you know."
Joshua lets out a deep chuckle and scoots close enough for his leg to touch yours. 
"Just because I'm being a gentleman right now doesn't mean I can't be the big bad wolf later." 
“Ooh, how scary.” You joke, drinking the rest of your alcohol.
“You’re teetering on a very dangerous edge, love.” Joshua’s tone drops a few octaves, accompanied by a barely there growl.
At this point, you’re certain you can feel your insides starting to get warm and squelchy. 
“You mentioned that you have friends, right?”
“Yeah. And what about it?”
“Are they wolves too?”
“Yeah, we live together. Are you interested in meeting them?” Joshua raises an eyebrow.
“Mm-hm. I bet they are very fun to hang out with.”
“Darling, are you seriously inviting yourself into a den full of alphas?”
“Maybe I am.” you grin and lean closer to him, crossing your legs.
"Bet I can take you and your friends' knots effortlessly."
Joshua lets out an evident growl and takes out his wallet, throwing a few bills on the counter.
"If your goal was to get laid tonight, congratulations, you're getting exactly that." He wraps his arm around your waist and brings you flush to his chest with a dull thud.
A giggle escapes your lips when you walk out of the club, a thin string of wetness hanging from your hole to your left thigh. 
"Is your house far from here?"
"Just a five minute walk from here," Joshua holds you close, "Scared you'll soak the pavement before we get there, baby bunny?"
You gasp when you hear his words, but you can't bring yourself to form a good rebuttal.
"Thought so. Now hop hop, little bunny."
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"Fuck, it smells so nice in here." you half moan when Joshua presses you on the door and runs his canines over your neck.
"Is it you or your heat talking, darling?"
"Both."
"You're so cute, Y/N." Joshua smiles and his eyes crinkle into crescent moons, making your heart swell.
Suddenly, you hear two unfamiliar voices yelling from afar, probably bickering in a different bedroom. Your ears perk up and your nose goes wild, although Joshua doesn’t share the sentiment, judging from the sigh he lets out.
“Those idiots.”
“Your friends, I presume?”
“Yeah. And they don’t seem to be in a good-”
“Joshua fucking Hong!”
A very pissed off man slams the bedroom door shut and stomps his way towards you, nostrils visibly flaring.
“Seungcheol, I can explain-”
“Explain what? That you decided to bring over a girl who’s also a bunny hybrid? All while I’m fighting to keep Mingyu in check?”
“Um, excuse me, I’m right here and I can hear you, mister pissed off.” You wave your hands in front of the agitated man.
“I am fully aware of that,” he shifts his attention to you, “And my name is Choi Seungcheol, but I’m also very pissed off - Not your fault, though.”
“Can you at least tell us what’s going on?” Joshua butts into the conversation.
“Mingyu went into his rut earlier than he was supposed to.”
“Oh.” Joshua stands baffled.
“Is that all you have to say?! I’ve been trying my damn best to calm him and his goddamn dick down and the best thing you can say is ‘Oh’?” Seungcheol angrily huffs.
“Hey, you have absolutely no reason to shit on me because Mingyu is horny - Like, what am I even supposed to do, suck his dick?!” Joshua retorts.
You watch the two men bicker for a couple of seconds until you hear a door being slammed shut and your eyes go wide when you see the definition of tall, dark and handsome walking towards you, half naked and sweat dripping down his beefy chest.
“What the fuck are you two arguing about?” The man in question - this must be Mingyu, you think - lets out a groan, “Can’t a man suffer in rut in peace?”
“Now that’s an oxymoron,” Seungcheol rolls his eyes, “I’m sorry you had to witness this,” he turns his attention to you, “Can we make it up to you somehow?”
“I can definitely think of a way that will solve enough of our problems in the vicinity,” you bite your bottom lip, “Not to mention that Joshie and I have a bet going on.”
“That reminds me…” Joshua comes behind you and you yelp when he effortlessly picks you up and settles you down on the couch, immediately pulling you in his lap, “Baby bunny was quite bold back when we were talking in the bar.” He smooths his palms over your thighs and spreads them apart, exposing your naked cunt to the other two men.
“She even said she can effortlessly take all of our knots.”
Mingyu lets out an obscene growl as his cock twitches in his sweats and he does not hesitate to drop on his knees in front of you, his nose mere centimeters away from your pussy.
"What's your name, bunny?"
"Y-Y/N," you gulp down, more wetness dripping from your hole.
"Pretty name," Mingyu rasps, "Now I know what to moan when I'll fuck this bunnycunt with my knot," he licks a fat stripe from your entrance all the way to your clit with his tongue, savouring your juices like a famished animal (he's actually one).
"Be patient, Gyu," Joshua clicks his tongue as he fumbles with the belt of his jeans, taking out his flushed cock and rubbing the tip all over your pussy.
"Oh my God, stop teasing and just stick it in!" You whine pathetically.
"You're not fucking her pussy first, Shua," Mingyu flashes his sharp canines with a menacing snarl as he shoves his sweats down to his knees, cock slapping against his toned stomach.
"Fuck, your cock is fucking huge, Gyu," you nearly drool at the sight, "I really need you fuck me stupid."
"These two are so goddamn impatient," Seungcheol's voice is heard right across the couch and you notice him sitting down on a chair, thighs wide spread, hands relaxed on the armrests, "Wishing you luck, Shua."
"Hey, pretty bunny," Joshua caresses your jaw with his hand and turns your face towards him, "Have you ever tried anal before?" What a fucking stupid question.
You nod feverishly, your sanity slipping away when you feel Mingyu's bulbous tip stretching your hole as he pushes his cock in, your head rolling back on Joshua's shoulder from the overwhelming feeling of fullness.
"Of course you have - It stimulates your pretty lil' fluffy tail, doesn't it?" 
"Mm-hm," you clench around Mingyu's cock, "N-Now are you gonna fuck my ass or what?!"
"Babe, you need to be p-"
"Just put it in!" 
"Both of you shut the fuck up." Mingyu growls and picks up your thighs, pushing them flat against your chest. He starts hammering your pussy, setting a rough pace from the very beginning and you can only cling onto his thick forearms, tears stinging your eyes.
"This - this is what I needed, fuck," the man above you huffs and moans with each thrust he delivers, "Your pussy is fucking magic, Y/N."
In between your horny haze, a loud gasp escapes your lips as you feel you other hole being stretched out and you realize it's Joshua finally acting up and fucking you like you wanted to.
"She's so…tight, nngh," the older man groans when he thrusts his cock in your ass, wrapping his arms around your midriff for leverage, "Bunnies are really something else."
Your brain can barely register what the two wolves say, all you can focus on is the delicious stretch of their cocks and how full you feel.
"She's delirious," Seungcheol half-moans, his hands now busy with his own cock, eyes fixated on your body taking whatever his wolf friends are giving you - patiently waiting for his turn to ruin you.
“Fuck, I’m almost ready to knot her,” Mingyu hisses through his teeth, your whimpers growing louder each time his swollen knot prods at your hole, threatening to push into you any second now.
“Please knot me, Gyu, pretty please!” You whine and dig your nails in his tanned forearms.
“You want him to knot you, darling?” Joshua snickers in your ear as he fucks your other hole from beneath, “Are you sure you can take his big, bad wolf knot in your tiny little bunnycunt?”
“She can and she will,” Seungcheol growls from the other end of the living room, his hand fisting his already swelling knot, “There are three wolves in this house and my patience is running thin.”
You opt to open your mouth and talk back, but it all dies down in a silent moan when Mingyu finally pushes his entire knot in your heat, an evident bulge forming in your tummy - all thanks to his size. The man licks his lips with an obscene sound when he takes out his entire cock, only to slam it back into you with full force.
“M-Min-gyu, s-shit! I’m gonna cum!” You scream and arch your back off Joshua’s torso, but his arms keep you locked flush to him, tears streaming down your cheeks from feeling full to the brim. 
“Aw, is the pretty little bunny crying already?” The older man gives you a pout of fake sympathy as he pushes his own knot in your ass without a warning and cums in you with a loud snarl, “And here I thought - fuck - that you could actually take our knots without a hitch,” he licks the tears off your left cheek, “You dumb little bunny whore.”
“I c-can t-take anything you g-guys will give me, I p-promise!” You sob between moans as Mingyu keeps hammering his knot in your swollen pussy, his nails digging into your soft skin.
“Oh really, bunny? Then how about this?” The man above you effortlessly lifts you up by gripping your waist, ripping you away from Joshua in an instant. He holds you in the air as if you’re a doll made of cotton and he fucks you as fast as he can, using you like a fleshlight. 
“You have the best pussy I’ve ever fucked, Y/N,” he rasps, knot starting to twitch in your cunt, “And I’m gonna treat it with a nice, fat load in it.”
“Pleasepleaseplease give me you cum, Gyu, fuck my bunnycunt full of your pups!” You wrap your legs around Mingyu’s waist, clinging onto him as if your life depends on it. 
The wolf hybrid buries his face in the crook of your neck as he cums, knot finally plugging you up to make sure every single drop stays in your cunt. You squirm in Mingyu’s arms from sensitivity, fresh tears of bliss staining your cheeks as you cum around his knot and squeeze him even tighter.
“Desperate lil’ cockslut, aren’t you?” He peers down on you through his thick black curls, “Cheol hasn’t even fucked you yet, doll.”
“I-I can take h-him too,” you croak out, “J-Just stuff me full already, please!”
Seungcheol gets up from his seat and discards his t-shirt, coming right behind you. His calloused hands caress the swell of your ass and they climb higher and higher, until they reach your chest. He slides your dress down to your waist, letting your tits bounce freely.
“Can’t believe you idiots didn’t take her dress off,” he clicks his tongue in annoyance while fondling with your tits, “Such a pretty little thing for us to enjoy all night long.”
“C-Cheol-”
“You’ve been running that mouth of yours all night long, haven’t you?” He grips your jaw.
“You have no fucking idea, Cheol.” Joshua sighs from the couch, jerking himself off at the sight of you being held in the air like a rag doll.
“Gyu, hold her waist. Tight.” Seungcheol orders the younger wolf and the latters lets out a snarl, but obeys either way. With one swift move, Seungcheol brings you backwards on eye-level with his cock, gripping your arms with his big hands.
“Have you ever sucked off a wolf hybrid before, bunny?”
“H-How hard can it be-”
“It ain’t your regular dick, sweetheart,” the older man rubs his swollen shaft over your cheeks, “That’s a wolf’s knot you’re about to take down your throat.”
“J-Just fuck my throat then, Cheollie!” You moan and pout your lips, eagerly kissing and licking his shaft to tease him.
“You’re one hungry little bunny.” Seungcheol chuckles and pushes his shaft into your mouth, a small gagging noise echoing in the living room as you try to fit his cock in your throat.
“Shit, she’s taking it like a champ,” Mingyu moans at the sight of your throat bulging around Seungcheol’s cock, “I could cum again from this.”
“God, I always forget how annoying you are when you’re in your rut,” the oldest scoffs and starts thrusting into your mouth with brute force, saliva starting to drip from the corners of your lips. Your eyes roll in the back of your skull, pussy clenching around Mingyu’s knot for the umpteenth time.
“Holy fuck, Y/N,” Joshua moans from afar, hand speeding up on his cock, “You better wreck the shit out of her, both of you, fuck!”
“Hear that, darling bunny? Joshie wants us to fuck the shit out of you,” Seungcheol laughs and flashes his sharp canines, “Good thing I was planning to do exactly that.”
He puts one hand on your throat, the other gripping your arm and he rams his cock down your throat, your tits bouncing from the force of his thrusts. You can only moan and whine around his veiny shaft, still stuck on Mingyu’s fat knot.
“I’ve wanted to stuff your pretty little mouth ever since you stepped into our apartment,” Seungcheol growls, “Mess up your glossy, puffy lips and make you cry from my cock - But you’re a greedy little slut who wanted to fuck my friends first.”
You wish you could talk back to him and rile him up even more, but he’s right in everything he says and you have zero regrets.
“Shit, I’m about to knot,” Seungcheol moans, “I’m gonna knot your bratty little mouth, bunny, hope you have big lungs.”
Your eyes go wide when he pushes your knot in your mouth, locking himself in place to cum straight down your throat, trying your best to swallow all of his cum. As if on cue, Mingyu’s knot finally softens and slips out of you, your pussy overflowing with his thick load.
You dig your nails into Seungcheol’s thighs, your oxygen running low, but he gets the hint and carefully removes his knot out of your mouth, allowing you to breathe.
“Fuck -cough- shit! Why the fuck are you so -cough- big?!” You try to regain your composure, body still shaking from your orgasms.
“Told you, sweetheart,” Joshua stands up from the couch, sweaty and sticky from his own orgasm, cum staining his abs, “Wolves are just built differently.” He swiftly gets between the two other men and carries you bridal style, rolling his eyes when he notices Mingyu plopping on the couch tiredly.
“That…was the best dicking I’ve ever experienced,” you mumble in your post-sex haze, “Even if I feel sore everywhere.”
“I don’t think it would have been the best dicking if you weren’t a tiny bit sore, bunny.” Joshua laughs and his eyes morph into the same crescent moons you first noticed back in the bar.
“Um, Josh? Where are you taking me?”
“To the bathroom, silly! You need a serious shower right now.”
“As if you don’t need one.” You snort.
“Cheol is right, you have a really bratty mouth.”
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yeji🦊: y/n where tf are u??
yeji🦊 : girl i’ve been calling you for ages
yeji🦊 : Y/N L/N ANSWER UR GODDAMN PHONE
y/n🐇: hey bae 
y/n🐇 : sry for going mia but i’m okay!!
yeji🦊 : okay as in??
y/n🐇 : getting the best dicks in my life 
yeji🦊 : hold tf up- DICKS??
yeji🦊 : HOW MANY GUYS DID YOU FUCK YOU BITCH-
2K notes · View notes
motherofdogs1010 · 6 months
Text
Solar Flare (Feyd-Rautha x Reader)
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Summary: Chosen as the bride of na-Baron Feyd-Rautha, Y/N finds herself at the hands of the sadistic na-Baron who seems keen on having his bride on their wedding night...
Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, arranged marriage, DUBCON/ pinv sex, fingering, loss of virginity, brief knife kink, small breeding kink, crude language, forced arranged marriage
A/N: I took inspiration from S1 GoT with Khal Drogo and Daenarys' relationship lol, can you tell I love that show?
Open to further parts in the future
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Dividers by @firefly-graphics Banner by @vase-of-lilies
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Geidi Prime was so different from her own world, one that was known for its windy, sunny atmosphere where nearly anything thrived in the fertile soil; she looked out the window of the bedroom she was in, seeing how the black sun of the planet truly blotted out any color. She could hear the hum of life within the ship as she awaited for her brother to summon her, to see if her fate would be sealed or not.
She wore a simple satin dress of a lavender shade, her hair loose and held back by two simple braids with some bells that hung from it as it was a fashion trend in her planet. Y/N sucked in a breath as she recalled her reason for being on Geidi Prime, that reason being that her brother was selling her off like a broodmare to the na-Baron of House Harkonnen.
She had heard the rumors of Feyd-Rautha, the sadistic nature of the man and it made her tremble in fear as she thought about it.
Knock. Knock.
Turning her head, Y/N looked at the bedroom door, watching it slid open to reveal her handmaid, Illaria.
"Your brother is calling for you", she said, Y/N felt her hands go sweaty as she knew why he was calling her.
🌑
"Where is he?" her brother asked, inpatient.
They were outside their ship on the landing pad where Houses meet, the bright light from their ship fought back the black-white filter that the black sun gave. She stood slightly behind her brother as he grumbled, she knew he was doing this to gain more Spice, the man was addicted to it.
"The Harkonnens are not known for their puncuality", her brother's advisor, Minos replied.
Minos was an overweight man with a long beard that nearly went past his heavy stomach.
Y/N looked between the two men chatting before seeing the Harkonnens, her heart skipped a beat as Minos joyfully went to greet them; she saw the large, menacing figure of the Baron, how slumped in his floating seat he was. She saw all of their ghastly pale skin and hairless appearance that differed from the beauty standard of long, thick hair on her planet.
And it was then she saw him: Feyd-Rautha, he was similar to his kin with the white skin and bald head, dark eyes that were sinister and she swore she saw black teeth.
"Do you see him?" her brother whispered, gripping her arm. "Feyd-Rautha is the fiercest warrior in the universe, they say he's never been defeated in battle. Of course, he's a Harkonnen and a savage... but you're going to be his na-Baroness."
He chuckled just as Minos called out to her to join him where the House stood.
Slowly, she made her way to where Minos was and she saw Feyd locking eyes with her. When she got to where Minos was, he moved her a little in front of her just as Feyd walked up to her, staring down at her.
He had a lean figure, she noted as he stared at her with his black eyes and she saw his tongue lick his bottom lip as he stared. His skin was practically white from the planet and she saw he had a slightly protruding eyebrow bone but he was a handsome man, a psychotic man but handsome.
She stared into his ink-black eyes, the smell of the polluted air of the planet going into her nose as he stared back into her own E/C eyes. His eyes trailed her full figure, taking in her hair and appearance as they stared at one another for what felt like an eternity before he turned to his uncle and walking away with the others following behind.
Y/N felt herself let out a breath as she lived, he hadn't killed her.
"Wait! Did he like her?" her brother cried out, rushing to where they were.
Y/N blinked at the interaction as Minos said, "he liked her."
"How could you tell?"
"Trust me, Feyd Rautha makes it known when he does not like a woman."
"Well then, when is the wedding?" her brother asked, Minos looked at her.
"Soon", Minos said, Y/N felt dread at his answer.
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Soon enough, the wedding to her Harkonnen groom came and it was an event. Fireworks were booming as in one of the many Grand Halls, drums were beat up as the music was loud as she sat near her now husband, who was taking pleasure in watching a fight between two men over a woman commenced. Y/N held back a grimace as she looked around and saw the table where the food was, she prayed that the meats on that table weren't human.
Minos mumbled that if there were no fights during a Harkonnen wedding, then it was not a wedding. The ceremony had been a brief one with the Baron, himself, officiating the ceremony and dark, throaty singing in the background as he talked of how she was now Feyd-Rautha's in body and mind, that her will was now his and her duty to produce heirs.
Feyd, himself, had been dressed in a black leather ceremonial suit that was fitted to his body while Y/N had been forced in an tight, silk dress that had slits on either side of her body, a deep cleavage bearing neck line and the veil she had been given to wear trailed behind her in a long train.
The maids that had gotten her ready had told her that Feyd had found her fuller figure appealing hence the dress and her hair hung down as she was also told her enjoyed that as well.
Y/N saw one of the attendees grab a rather bloody piece of dark meat from the table and she recalled the cannibalistic nature of Geidi Prime; the festivities proceeded before suddenly, Feyd stood up and she swallowed her spit as her breath got caught.
She had hoped he would turn to his concubines for the wedding but it seemed he truly wanted to consummate their marriage and Y/N felt her heart beating faster as the music, as everything stopped.
Feyd was waiting for her down the steps as everyone stared at her, she slowly got up as she felt her eyes want to water. He held a hand out and Y/N slowly walked down the steps, feeling the stares of everyone as she grasped his hand before letting out a small squeal as the man threw her over his shoulder without effort.
The room erupted into laughter and clapping, music picking up as Feyd walked around, carrying her around like she was some prized animal he hunted. The attendees were enjoying the show as Y/N felt a sense of humiliation before it was finally over and he walked them out of the hall.
It was silent with the exception of the fireworks.
"Are you frightened?"
His voice was raspy and Y/N swallowed, "N-No husband."
His footsteps echoed in the hall as his voice teased, "You should be, I could easily feed you to my pets and be done with it, wife."
Y/N blinked rapidly as tears welled up in her eyes, "I believe that would not be in your best interest."
She hadn't even realized they made it inside his bedroom until he tossed her onto a bed, she was surprised by the softness of the bed and the coolness of the sheets.
Feyd smirked at her as he stared down at her before climbing over her, a cold knife slid up against her cheek as she stared into his eyes.
"And why is that, my na-Baroness?"
"Are your pets worthy enough of bearing you a strong heir?"
He slid the knife down until it nicked her skin, a hiss of pain escaped her lips as Feyd stared at her.
"What makes you believe that you can carry my heir, hm?"
His thumb pressed on the cut, making the blood from the cut come out more before he brought his thumb to his mouth, licking it off.
"You'll have to find out", she responded back.
Feyd smirked before crashing his lips on her, her eyes closed as a heat came up on her face as the hunger his kiss conveyed consumed her and she fisted his clothes as he dominated the kiss. She tried her best to kiss back before Feyd pulled away, a thin strand of saliva connecting their mouths as Y/N panted.
"Your brother was right in his bragging, you truly have never had a man."
Feyd seemed proud in his statement as he used the knife to rip the bodice of her dress, exposing her breasts to him and he seemed pleased at their appearance as he brought his mouth down one of her buds, sucking on it harshly and sliding the knife over the other. The coldness of the knife made her nipple harden and the sensation of Feyd's mouth of her breast made her cunt begin to throb in a painful way and she felt a wetness begin.
She watched him toss the knife away as the hand that held the knife dove under her skirts, the Harkonnen man ripping and tear at the skirt with his hand as he fisted her panties before tearing them down her plump thighs.
Her heart was beating in her chest, she was experiencing so many emotions: fear... confusion... lust.
She felt his cold fingers probe at her cunt, a smirk coming on his face as he pushed her legs open before his swiped a finger through her lips; she felt a odd sensation, a throb of electricity go through her as he pressed a calloused thumb to her swollen clit and pushed two fingers into her hot, slick walls.
Y/N couldn't help but arch her back and her eyes flutter at the sensation of Feyd beginning to literally fuck his fingers into her, rubbing harsh circles on her clit that seemed to light her body on fire.
She clutched his shoulders as she cried out as she felt him massage his fingers into her as he chuckled.
"Such a little whore you are, wife", he rasped, "I haven't even shoved my cock into you and you're already mewling like a whore."
It was true, her toes where curling as she moaned and gasped.
"Wonder how you'll be once you have a cock in you."
🌑
Feyd was determined, Y/N would later conclude towards having her carry his heir was her legs had been thrown over the lean man's shoulders. He was pressing down hard into her, his hips brutally slapping into her as he let out these animalistic growls and groans.
She clung to him, fingers digging into his flesh as the pleasure that rocked through her body overwhelmed her.
The intrusion of his cock when it first entered her in one rough thrust had stung, tears had pricked her eyes for those brief moments of pain, but now it was tears of tears that rang down her round cheeks.
She panted and moaned, back arching, "Feyd!"
"Let everyone hear you", he demanded, "I want them to hear who you belong to."
She squealed as she felt another orgasm come over her, having lost count of the many he had already forced out of her body.
"I want them to hear who's heir is being bred into you."
541 notes · View notes
mydear-corinthian · 17 days
Text
not you, please
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synopsis - wherein the reader was kidnapped by the unsub that hotch and the team were investigating.
pairing - aaron hotchner x reader / aaron hotchner x wife!reader
warnings - ANGST w/ comfort, reader being kidnapped and tortured, blood, typical criminal minds talk/content, use of aaron and hotch separately
notes - a tad long (w.c <2300), gif & picture isn't mine, divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more
main masterlist | criminal minds masterlist
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"Where is she?" Hotch's deep and frustrating voice echoed throughout the interrogation room. He was alone, wanting to talk to the now-caught criminal, wanting the offender to know your whereabouts.
It's been two days since you went missing. You were just doing your usual grocery for the week not until you went to the parking lot and you felt a damped cloth covering your mouth and nose. You accidentally inhale the chemicals on it making your muscles and bones tired, and your eyes shut down completely.
When you woke up, you felt a cold metallic wrap-feeling around your wrists. Your hands were hung up while you stood; your body felt weaker than ever. As you looked down on your body, bruises and fresh scars painted all over your stomach and legs. You want to cry. Cry for the pain. Cry because you know that you won't be able to see your husband again.
Hotch came home after a long tiring work. He gently hung his suit coat on the rack as he called your name. Once he did, Hotch didn't hear an answer. He thought that you were asleep since it was already midnight. Hotch went upstairs to your shared room and knocked softly before entering. His eyes widened at the sight: the bed was empty. Hotch quickly ran downstairs, searching every room there is inside the house. Hell, he even checked the backyard.
You weren't there.
Hotch immediately grabbed his phone, dialing your number. Unfortunately, it went directly to voicemail making his heart drop.
Hi, this is (Y/n)! I'm afraid I cannot be on the phone right now. Just leave a message and I'll reply as soon as I can.
Your voice helped him a bit but it's the fact that it's just a voicemail. He cannot help but think where were you?
That's when he remembered.
Earlier in his shift, he recalled how the team got a new case. Four women were tortured and murdered with the same hair and eye color as yours.
"No, that's not possible.." Not you, please.." he thought to himself.
Hotch grabbed his car keys and drove to the BAU office right away. When he entered the office, he ran immediately and went inside the elevator. Hotch called everyone: Reid, Garcia, Morgan, J.J, Prentiss, and Rossi.
"I need you all to be here. It's an emergency." Hotch stated and dropped the call after.
After five minutes, everyone was in the conference room, standing up and looking at Hotch.
"What happened?" Morgan was the first to ask.
"(Y/n) was abducted. I suspect this morning." Hotch replied, trying to keep his composure. He may appear normal or he's showing no feelings at all but deep down, his mind is punching him with all the possibilities on where are you and what happened. Are you okay? Do you have any injuries? Or worse, are you still alive?
He knows that people who go missing die within the first 24 hours since they went missing. For the first time, Hotch disregard the statistics. He won't accept any of it.
"I am sure it has to do with the case we had this morning. (Y/n) has the same characteristics as the victims. (y/h/c) hair, (y/e/c)." Hotch added.
"Oh my god.." Garcia commented, covering her mouth in shock.
"We'll help you, Hotch," J.J. said, her eyes showing a trickle of sadness.
Everyone in the BAU loved you. They were shocked knowing that both of you were dating despite your different personalities. Whenever there was a tough case, you would give them homemade cookies— especially Emily since you know how much she loves them— and you usually wait for Aaron to finish his paperworks in his office and you chat with Spencer. Listening to all the statistics and facts that he gives. You were the one who helped J.J. during her pregnancy, you gifted her how many boxes of diapers and other baby items during her bridal shower. You learned how to make Italian dishes with Rossi and Aaron loved every single dish of them. Derek and Penelope kept on asking for dating tips and even going out and parties with them. For them, you're a part of the BAU now. You're their family.
"I'll trace her phone. To see where her last location was." Garcia immediately started, leaving the room, and went to her computer lair.
"I'll talk to the neighbors to see if they saw her." Emily and Derek said.
"I'll go and try to mark a location up," Spencer said, standing up and going to the other room.
Rossi walked towards the scared and worried Hotch, patting him on the back, "We'll find her, Aaron."
-
"Look who's awake! Took you long enough," the unsub laughed, there was a small knife in his hand.
"Let me go!" you panted, your arms wiggling against the cold and handcuffs. Tears were starting to form in your eyes.
The unsub was getting closer to you until you felt his hot breath on your neck, whispering things that you wish you could not hear. With all of your strength, you kicked his stomach making him tumble backward.
"You're a fighter, aren't you?" he laughed.
His knife trailed down to your thighs, caressing it before stabbing you. You let out a scream as you felt it pinch to your skin.
"Please— stop!" you begged.
"You know, the last person who was there in your place died," he said. "If you don't want to end up like her then behave!"
You didn't protest, you want to live. Your mouth let out a series of whimpers and sobs. The unsub laughed, showing no remorse or guilt for what he had just done he enjoyed it.
Another man came inside whatever room you were in. He wasn't in shape, unlike the man who tortured you. There you know what is happening.
Two unsubs.
One is highly intelligent; the one who plans all the murders. The other one is physically strong but has no brains. The stronger man works for the other guy.
You learned it from your husband. You let him debrief heavy cases and also Aaron gives you some tips and tricks whenever you're in a dangerous situation— which he hopes won't happen but it's better to be cautious and be prepared.
"Good job finding her, Eric. I'll go somewhere to buy more tools for this lady over here." the smarter unsub said.
Eric nodded in response, facing back to you as he smiled diabolically with a small cutter in his hands.
When his duo left, all you felt was pain when the cutter went back again to your skin, cutting you slowly. Your vision started to get woozy. You lost your balance before your whole vision started going back.
-
It's finally been 24 hours since you went missing.
Aaron was mentally and emotionally dissolved. He and the whole team were in the conference room, looking at Garcia on the small screen of the laptop, hoping to get an address or a name.
Please, Garcia.. Please
"I got an address!" Penelope shouted, making everyone including Aaron stand up.
"Where?" Aaron asked immediately, his foot tapping anxiously.
"So, I searched stores who had customers previously bought knives, ropes, cutters, and all those horrifying items," she responded. Aaron's heart sank when she mentioned those items. Torture items. "—There were a lot of people who bought it—welcome to America— but this is what I suspiciously found. I reviewed this store's CCTV footage and I kept on seeing the same man coming inside the store twice a week for almost a month who brought the same items: rope, butcher's knives, small cutters, staplers, shovels, and some.. handcuffs... What's weird is that he doesn't look like the person who is physically fit to do gardening, carpentry, digging stuff and all."
"Can you identify the man, baby girl?"
"I already did. The name is Fred Silverstone. He's 5'7 tall, white, he owns a grey Adventure pickup. He's still inside the store! The address is Building 2 Kennedy Store just by Palm Street."
As soon as the team received the address, all of them went to their SUVs and drove. Derek and Rossi were with Aaron. He wanted to drive but Rossi was faster than him. Rossi began to drive at a fast speed, trying to catch the possible unsub and you in time.
Once they arrived, Aaron didn't hesitate to run inside the store with a gun in his hand and a bulletproof vest on his chest to protect him.
"John Silverstone, freeze!" Aaron yelled, pointing his gun at him when he finally saw John about to leave the store with a cart full of torture items.
"Raise your hands where I can see them!"
John raised his hands in defeat. Derek grabbed his handcuffs behind his belt and stated the Miranda Rights with anger.
-
Hotch didn't waste his time to interrogate John. He tried screaming at him. Yell at him. Yet John didn't say a word to where are your whereabouts. Unfortunately, the man didn't speak for almost 16 hours. He was quiet. He was smart.
"Oh, you're not talking? Then let's talk about your wife. She's the stressor, right? You kidnap women with the same features as your wife because she left you. And when she tried to leave you, you killed her? Isn't that right?"
"Shut up!" John yelled. "You know, Agent.. your wife.. she's pretty." the sound of your name being mentioned lit up flames to his whole body. Jesus, he wants to punch that man right now.
"You know what I did to my wife? I strangled her before slowly but satisfactorily cutting her from head to toe in that fucking basement of her home. Who knows! Your wife will be like that in a few minutes." he laughed manically.
Hotch's anger rose even higher. A lump in his throat was starting to form. When the unsub finally gave a clue to your location, Garcia searched the house of John's ex-wife and sent the location immediately.
"You're gonna rot in prison, Silverstone." Hotch lowly said before leaving the room.
-
The team went to their respective SUVs, driving immediately. Hotch's mind was killing him—all the thoughts of you being wounded, in pain, or even seeing your lifeless body.
As soon as the team arrived, Hotch ordered everyone. Prentiss was on his left while Morgan was on his right. Morgan kicked the door harshly as the three ran towards the basement.
Once you heard footsteps and Aaron's voice, your body relaxed a little.
He's here now.
But before you could shout his name out, your body was grabbed by the remaining unsub. He locked your head with his forearm while he placed a small knife near your neck. You can feel how cold the knife was.
"FBI! Nicholas, put the knife down." Aaron said.
Aaron looked at you with fear and anxiety, all he needed was for you to come back to him safely.
"No! This is for John! I-I will make John proud by killing her without his help!" Nicholas shouted.
Prentiss was too impatient so she triggered the gun, the bullet hitting the unsub's forehead directly. His body fell, blood pooling down his head.
Your legs gave up once you were now away from his grasp. Your face was pale. You were dehydrated so much. Your injuries look severe. There was a lot of dried blood on your body while some fresh scars were seen on your thighs and stomach.
Aaron ran towards you instantly. He gently grabbed your upper body, scanning for more injuries. Tears were starting to form again in your eyes as you felt his safe touch once again.
"It's okay, honey.. I'm here. You'll be alright. Just stay awake for me, okay?" Aaron caressed your hair while looking at you with his adorable eyes. He may seem still professional but his eyes were starting to water and his voice quivered.
Unfortunately, you were too weak to speak. You only answered him with a nod.
"I need an ambulance now," Morgan called.
You looked at your husband once again. Oh, he looks good. You hate seeing him anxious or sad. How you wish you had the energy to stroke his cheek. But despite that, you felt your energy decrease. Your body starts to feel cold and your head feels light. When you looked at Aaron again, your eyesight was getting blurry. Everything felt light.
"No no, (Y/n) stay awake, please. The ambulance is coming— What is taking them so long!"
You tried. Oh, you tried to stay awake but unfortunately, darkness filled you.
-
Aaron was outside the operating room for almost 5 hours now. The team left a few hours ago, leaving him alone. He glances at his wristwatch every minute, tapping his foot anxiously as he waits for the doctor to tell him his condition. He finally cried. Tears were now falling how his face, imagining the worse responses once the doctor comes out of the operating room.
The door suddenly opened. A doctor exited the operating room, their scrubs were stained with some blood.
"For (Y/n) Hotchner?"
Aaron stood up immediately as he heard your name.
"She'll be fine," the doctor announced, a sigh of relief washing out on his body. "But she lost a lot of blood and was severely dehydrated. She's lucky to be alive. She will wake up in a few hours, Mr. Hotchner. You may visit her once the nurses will transfer her to a private room within the hour."
"Thank you, Doctor— Oh God— Thank you."
When you woke up, you were met by this bright light. You adjusted your eyes for a bit before opening them fully. You shifted your eyes to your legs and saw your husband sleeping rather uncomfortably. You called out his name softly, hoping that he'd wake up despite how quiet your voice was.
Aaron woke up and then looked at you. For the first time in 2 days, a smile was printed on his face.
"You're awake, " he said gently, standing up and kissing your forehead, stroking your hair with his fingers. "I thought I had lost you."
"I'm okay now, Aaron. I'm safe and you're with me," you reassured him, interlocking your fingers with his.
"I'm so sorry it took us time to find you."
"It's okay, Aaron. It's not your fault."
"I love you, (Y/n) Hotchner."
"I love you too, Aaron Hotchner." you smiled at him, kissing him back when his lips touched yours.
"Now give me some water; I'm thirsty," you said.
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