#ymata smut

[jamiewintons]

hiiii can i request some hate sex w ariel

like he kidnaps you or smthn and youre arguing and he puts his hand on your throat and you both realize you like it and then..... 👀 thank u!!! ❤❤

Tags/Warnings: Ariel being a prick, Hacker!Reader (you're mentioned to be a hacker, but no hacking stuff is actually talked about), some violence (choking, being pinned against the wall), Smut (18+ ONLY!!), degradation, 'Master' kink, not really proofread lol.

Word Count: 1589 (I was planning on these short fics only being a few hundred words but OOPS, the inspiration took me 😅)

Ariel Tag List: @demontoucansam, @clydethesnake, @abloomingspaceship, @butlersluvbot.

~

Ariel felt his eye twitch. He was thankful that he only needed you for a little longer, and then he could finally, finally, be rid of you. You’d been such a nuisance ever since he’d kidnapped you to help him with this job - as much as he hated to admit it, you were the only other hacker in the world that came even close to his skill, but good God, you were annoying. You couldn't go five seconds without insulting him or just generally being a bitch. It was a real test of his patience and self-control, but he knew that he couldn't hold out much longer before he snapped.

Then, you made another one of your little snarky comments and he lost it. Honestly, he hadn’t even heard what you said, but it was in that tone that you always used when you were mocking him, and it made him see red. Before you knew it, he had you pinned against the wall, his gloved hand around your throat - he wasn't applying any pressure just yet, this was more of a warning. But for some reason, all of his anger left him when he looked into your eyes, and was replaced by a burning lust like he’d never felt before.

Right now, you looked completely different. Rather than the usual sneer you had on your face when you looked at Ariel, you looked so submissive and sweet, and most importantly, you were quiet. After all of these weeks of arguing and bickering, Ariel found himself wanting you, and he had a feeling you felt the same way.

When he crashed his lips against yours, you found yourself letting out cute little whimpers as you tried your best to kiss him back with just as much enthusiasm as he was displaying. One hand was still resting on your throat while the other slipped into the front of your shorts and panties. Even while he was wearing gloves, he could tell how wet you were. He wondered whether it was him pinning you to the wall with his hand around your throat was what got you going, or if you had some sort of kink for bickering with him, but it didn't really matter. Ariel wanted you, and you quite obviously wanted him.

"You're such a slut," he growled into your ear, biting the shell of it before moving his lips to your neck to begin leaving countless love bites there. You opened your mouth to retaliate, but your mind went blank and all that came out was an embarrassing whimper when Ariel began moving his fingers against your clit. He laughed darkly against your skin, before he pulled away to look at your face - all needy and desperate for him. "If only I'd known how easy it was to keep you quiet, I would have put you in your place weeks ago."

As he toyed with your clit, Ariel brought his other hand back to your neck, and began to apply a little pressure. You whimpered again and squirmed, your thighs trembling slightly. He couldn't keep the smirk off his face as he watched you, and before long, he knew that he needed to do more than just tease you.

Ariel pulled his hand from your shorts, ignoring your little noises of protest, and grabbed you by the wrist to pull you over towards the sofa - where you'd been forced to sleep ever since Ariel took you - at the other end of the room. He pushed you and you went willingly, falling onto your back on the sofa with him looking down at you, like a predator looked at its prey. It took only a few seconds for him to remove your clothes. You didn't even have time to protest when a few of the buttons got ripped off your shirt, or the fact that he tore your soaked panties off of you, now too damaged to be worn again. It didn't matter though, because you found yourself not caring pretty soon afterwards.

Getting onto the sofa so that he was kneeling in front of where you were laying down, he spread your thighs with his large hands. Ariel let out a groan when he saw how wet you were for him - sure he'd felt it before, but seeing it was a whole different story. He knew that he needed to be buried inside of that pretty little cunt of yours right now, and he hastily pushed his jeans and boxers down just enough to free his aching cock.

Your eyes widened when you saw Ariel's dick, and he couldn't help but grin. He knew that he had you now. "Beg for it," he said in a demanding tone, teasing your folds with his cock and covering it with your copious amount of wetness. "Show me how much you want it. Show me that after all these weeks of you disrespecting me, that deep down you're really just a whore."

"Fuck," you whispered as you felt the head of Ariel's cock graze against your swollen clit. "Ariel, plea-"

Ariel's hand came to rest on your throat again, and he spoke in a low, dominant voice. "No, you haven't earned the right to use my name. Call me 'Master'." He smirked, wondering how long it would take you to break, to degrade yourself to the point where you accepted yourself as his property. He imagined that it would take at least a few minutes to get you to that point, but he had underestimated how desperate you truly were, because you admitted it almost immediately.

"Master, please... I need it, please..." you whimpered pathetically, looking up at him with your eyes wide and pleading. "I promise I won't disrespect you ever again, I'll do whatever you say... please fuck me."

That was all Ariel needed to hear. Keeping his hand on your throat, he used his free hand to guide his cock to your entrance, and wasted no time pushing himself inside. You were so tight and wet that he had to grit his teeth to keep himself from getting too overwhelmed - as much as he hated to admit it, it had been a while for him, since he'd been so busy.

Ariel made sure to keep his eyes trained squarely on your face as he began to fuck you, slowly but harshly. The hand that wasn't on your throat came to rest on one of your legs, pulling it up so he could wrap it around his waist and reach deeper inside of you. Without even being prompted, you lifted your other leg up so that he could do the same with it. You let out a loud moan, and attempted to buck your hips up to meet his thrusts.

"You act all tough, but you're really just a submissive little slut, aren't you?" he mused, applying a little bit of pressure to your neck as he sped up the pace of his hips. "Maybe this is what you wanted all along. Is that it, pet? All of your little outbursts, all of the disrespect... you were just trying to provoke me into giving you what you needed, weren't you?" His tone was mockingly sweet, which should have irritated you, but all you could manage was a strangled whimper. Ariel seemed to take this as a confirmation of his theory, and honestly, you knew deep down that he was correct. "Poor little thing. You won't have to worry about that ever again, because you're mine now. My little toy."

Ariel began to fuck you hard and fast now, both of your moans and heavy breathing, along with the sounds of his hips slamming against your ass, were the only noises in the room. His hand tightened around your neck, cutting off your air supply a little, and at the same time, your cunt tightened as well.

"Oh, are you going to cum already, pet? It must have been a long time since you've been fucked properly, hm?" His free hand slipped down between your bodies to play with your clit, making you writhe and squirm and your thighs shake where they were resting on his shoulders. "Come on, pet. Cum on my cock like the good little whore we both know you are."

That pushed you over the edge into what was probably the most powerful orgasm you'd ever experienced in your life. If you'd been able to form coherent thoughts in the moment, you would have thought you must have looked like you were possessed or something. You let out a series of incomprehensible noises as your pussy contracted wildly around Ariel's shaft, and he continued to fuck you through it until you were too sensitive to continue.

Whether you were too sensitive didn't really matter that much to Ariel, who only stopped once he was ready. It took all of the self-control he had to pull out of your still-fluttering warmth and spill his cum onto your pussy, groaning out your name as he did so. As both of you caught your breath, he couldn't help but look down at the mess he'd made of you and feel a sense of pride swelling in his chest.

"You know... I was planning on letting you go once we'd finished this job," Ariel said between heavy pants, already beginning to feel the urge to take you all over again despite the fact that you were both exhausted. "But I think I might keep you around a little while longer."

[sleepingdeath-bboys]

praise kink hcs ; jamie winton

requested by ; hannigross

pairing ; jamie winton x gender neutral!reader

tag list ; @jamiewintons | @pink-booty-butts

note ; this is part two of a nine part request, and the rest of the baynton boys that i write for will get posts like this in the future

summary ; descriptions of what jamie would be like if he had a praise kink (potentially shaky characterisation here as this is more general rather than describing a specific situation, as most of my posts tend to do)

With Jamie, his appreciation for praise stretches far beyond the scope of what the two of you indulge in behind closed doors, it’s far more all encompassing than that — though, of course, the times where that appreciation turns into something more sexual in nature are strictly kept behind closed doors

(or, really, anywhere else where you won’t be heard/seen… for example, the kitchen or living-room whenever Dave isn’t home)

He’s quite partial to being called ‘sweetheart’ and ‘darling’ when you praise him — e.g. ‘you did so well for me, sweetheart,’ or ‘that’s it, darling, keep on going,’ — but he can appreciate the occasional ‘good boy’ here and there if you use them well

Hell, combine the three and add in some neck and face kisses kisses whilst you’re cockwarming him and you’ll feel his stress melt away beneath you: shoulders sagging, his loose grip around your waist getting even looser, eyelids fluttering shut, a half-moan-half-sigh slipping from his lips… the full nine yards, really

(Bonus points if you do all of that after he’s endured an especially long shift at the bank because then you’ll have a very happy boyfriend and a guarantee of breakfast in bed the next day — yes, even if it’s a weekday as your Jamie will wake up earlier than usual to throw something nice together for you before he goes off to work)

With all of that established I’ll give a few examples of how you can take full advantage of this little quirk of Jamie’s:

(applicable if you’re able to get pregnant) Combine it with his breeding kink — wrap your legs around his waist when he’s buried to the hilt inside of you and kiss along his jaw and cheeks as you whisper about how much you ‘love’ him, how ‘good’ he feels, how ‘amazing’ of a job he’s doing (the usual stops)… and then pivot to begging him to get you pregnant: repeat your ‘please’s and reiterate how you know he’ll make a ‘wonderful father’ and how you ‘desperately’ want to start a family with him — and then you’ll feel his whole body tremble above you as he whimpers and finishes inside of you

Combine it with mild body worship as a type of foreplay — massage the knots out of his shoulders and back, kiss from his jawline to his navel, flutter your eyelashes at him, and just barely avoid brushing against his prominent, straining cock as you praise him and his body in earnest: call him ‘pretty’ when you suck a trail of hickeys down the column of his throat, insist he’s ‘handsome’ as you kiss down his chest (and sternly stand your ground when he tries to humbly deny your observations), praise him for being so ‘good’ and ‘obedient’ for you that day as your lips brush against the band of his pink boxers, laugh as his cheeks and ears and neck turn red and earnestly call him ‘beautiful’ when you rise back up to his level and press a passionate kiss against his lips (feel him melt into you in that moment as he feels just how loved he is, and know that for the rest of the day or night he’s fully yours to love and hold and pleasure however you wish — like putty in your hands after all you’ve done)

Combine it with the praise he gives you whenever he pleasures you or is being pleasured by you — run your hands through his hair when his face his buried between your thighs (lips and tongue pleasuring you with an expertise that only time and care could bring) and whisper a few dozen ‘i love you’s and ‘just like that’s between moans and groans and gasps and you’ll feel him moaning and groaning and whimpering against/around you in return as his movements become more desperate (desperate to please, to taste, to prove himself to you); look into his eyes when those deliciously long fingers are buried inside of you and tell him how ‘beautiful’ and ‘perfect’ and ‘loved’ he is as you dangle on the precipice of orgasm and watch as his eyes water and his lips tremble as he kisses you and calls you ‘wonderful’ and ‘beautiful/handsome/perfect’ in return (telling you ‘i love you’ as the world around you collapses and everything beyond Jamie ceases to exist); mouth compliments against his slender thighs as you take his length between your lips, watching as his expression shift from endless adoration to pleasure and back again, every break to breathe coming with a new wave of love and praise that had his heady moans turning to soft whimpers for the briefest of moments before you returned your attention to his dick and the moment was cut short once again

In short, just make sure that Jamie knows how loved and appreciated (in mind, body, and in action) and he’ll return that affection and attention tenfold the very second he’s able to

(Givers are always going to give, after all, and if you can’t change his nature then at the very least you’re able to reflect it and make sure he never feels alone or unappreciated ever again)

[sleepingdeath-light]

a taste of heaven ; 18+

requested by ; jamiewintons (kinktober entry)

word count ; 1302

content ; sexually explicit content, heavily dubious consent (lying about identity to sleep with reader), oral sex (fem receiving), vaginal sex, infidelity (reader figures out she isn’t sleeping with jamie but chooses to continue anyway)

fandom ; you, me & the apocalypse

pairing ; ariel conroy x cis female reader

read also on ; ao3

minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

Ariel had been obsessed with you from the very first moment he’d seen your face; bright features flashing across his doofus brother’s lock screen along with a sickening declaration of ‘love’ and ‘luck’ for the coming day — with the memory of those words alone being enough to make his stomach churn all these months later. But now that he had you in his arms, he could say that it was all worth it — all of the stalking, all of the hacking, all of the studying Jamie’s mannerisms and idiolect, all of those sleepless nights — because you were even better than he hoped you’d be.

You were so far beyond his wildest dreams that he didn’t even know where to begin when you’d first let him into your home (brushing off his well rehearsed excuses of the bank closing early with such ease that he almost felt guilty for taking advantage of your trusting nature). Though he quickly found his footing after recalling a recent conversation he’d observed between you and your oh so perfect boyfriend where you’d expressed a want to be more… creative when he ate you out.

And, luckily for you, Ariel was much more willing to accommodate your request than his more prudish counterpart.

—————

Jamie always took his time with you, so Ariel took great care to do the same: careful and slow as he dragged your sweatpants and underwear down your legs, following the thin lace hem with his lips as he kissed his way from your hips to your knees and then back up again until your pants are completely out of his way and he’s free to comfortably settle between your thighs; tender and deliberate in how he moved your legs to rest comfortably on either side of his head, massaging your waist in soothing circular patterns as he slowly leaned forwards and began to kitten-lick his way along your slit — barely even tasting you and yet still having to physically restrain himself from getting drunk on your scent and flavour; cautious and caring in how his movements escalate, looking up at you from between your thighs with those beautiful brown eyes (that somehow, to you, feel very un-Jamie-like) to watch for any signs of discomfort as he dips his tongue further between your lips — going millimetre by millimetre, so painfully slow, until the very tip of his tongue is able to just barely graze against your dripping entrance and tickle your aching clit; intentional and gentle in how he uses one slender hand to push down on your stomach to encourage you to lay flat against the bed as he remains kneeling before you, silencing your protests with chaste kisses against your inner thighs before refocusing his attention on your centre. He was doing such a good job of mimicking his twin until he wasn’t — until you made that sound and arched your back and something in him snapped and he became outwardly Ariel once again.

And to you it was as if he’d become a completely different person: rougher, louder, more desperate than anything you’d ever known of your Jamie. But, despite your initial shock, you couldn’t even bring yourself to complain or to consider pushing him away. Not when it felt so damn good…

So, instead, you just pulled him closer and gave in to the moment completely: revelling in the way he sloppily shoved two (then three) of those delightfully slender (but oddly more calloused than you recalled them being) fingers inside of your gushing cunt and thrust them straight into your g-spot with such ferocity that it had your legs slamming shut around his head; letting your mind grow delightfully blank and fuzzy as he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked on the swollen nub, only able to moan and whine and cry out his name like a bitch in heat whilst he worked your body like a well-practised instrument; basking in his attention as he slurred curses and praise against your wet pussy and trembling inner thighs — treating your body like a whore whilst earnestly complimenting everything about you in a way that your foggy mind could only liken to a first time.

‘… more beautiful than I imagined,’

‘Perfect.’

‘You taste so good.’

‘Fuck… do that again,’

‘That’s it, princess.’

Princess? Jamie didn’t call you ‘princess’. He called you things like ‘darling’ and ‘my love’ and ‘sweetheart’, but he had never called you that before. You couldn’t even imagine him saying it at all unless he was trying to be funny, it was just so very unlike him. And yet he had, just now, with his lips still wet with your slick and his fingers buried in your cunt as if it were the most natural thing in the world for him to say.

And then the realisation hit that maybe — well, more than maybe — this wasn’t Jamie. A very Jamie-like person who was very so slightly off: his eyes were still beautiful and easy to lose yourself in, but they weren’t brimming with as much earnest love as they usually did; his hair was already a complete mess without you messing with it, almost as if it had been forced into Jamie’s style and wasn’t quite used to sitting in such a way yet; he was devouring you like a starved man would a royal feast with the ferocity of an animal, so rough you were sure you’d be aching, whilst Jamie was usually nothing short of patient and gentle with you — taking his time no matter how much you begged because he used sex as an emotional outlet rather than just a source of carnal pleasure. This not-Jamie — whoever he was — had done an incredible impression of your boyfriend, uncannily so even, but he was ever so slightly off.

Yet that off-ness had been lost on you long enough for him to sneak into your home and into your bed. Jamie would be destroyed if he found out…

But somehow you didn’t care — you weren’t even scared. Too blinded by the unfamiliar-familiarity of those large, cold, slender hands manhandling you across the bed and spreading your legs to accommodate his slim frame as he hastily unbuckled his belt and freed his straining cock from its confines. Too distracted by the unpleasant emptiness that followed him pulling his fingers out of your cunt, followed by the startling warmth and almost-familiar stretch of his dick taking their place inside of you — pleas for more spilling from your lips in place of any protest as you eagerly wrapped your legs around his waist and urged him to fill you to the brim. Overcome with the need to be fucked and stretched and used until you were spent and dumb, calling out for the man you knew wasn’t with you until those not-quite-familiar lips crashed against yours and every pretty noise you tried to make was swallowed by a hot, wet mouth attached to a greedy, rough man you couldn’t get enough of.

Because as long as he was doing this — groping at your waist and chest with an unmatched roughness, pounding into you with a speed and harshness that had the headboard banging against the bedroom wall, and kissing you so messily that your lips were swollen, wet, and bleeding — you couldn’t care less who he was. Jamie, not Jamie, it wouldn’t matter until it was all over.

Until your orgasm had washed over you and you were left covered in sweat and slick and saliva, filled to leaking with a strange Jamie-like man’s cum, on your shared bed with your partner. Panting and aching and tired and almost feeling guilty for how not guilty about the whole thing you felt. Praying that Jamie — the real Jamie — never finds out.

After all, what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.

[otaku-girl-ao3]

Darling Boy - Chapter 7 of 13 - Wonka x YMATA Crossover - Ariel Conroy x Felix Fickelgruber

"Didn’t anyone ever tell you that it’s more effective to keep captives on their toes?”

“I am a man of my word and, I find, that is worth more than cheap tactics. Now. Are you ready to thank me?”

“Thank you?”

“For the nickname. For the promise of giving you something in return, should you please me well enough. For the opportunity for growth and self-reflection. Or shall I ask the Chief to bring you something to eat and drink, and I shall see you again in another twenty-four hours?”

[pink-booty-butts]

Champagne Mornings (Jamie Winton x Reader Smut)

Pairing: Jamie Winton x fem!Reader

Word Count: 1,665

Summary: Requested by an anon! Jamie and you snuck away during your wedding reception for some post marital activities :)

Warnings: smut! minors pls no read <3 pretty vanilla and lovey-dovey ngl, though also some breeding kink bc it’s Jamie :p 

A/N: I hope you like this anon! sorry it took me so long to write! i really hope Jamie isn’t too ooc, maybe I need to rewatch YMATA hahaha

-----

Jamie nearly dropped you as he stumbled into your shared hotel room. He immediately turned to look at you with a face full of worry, but was only met with a smile and a giggle. He returned your smile as he kicked the door closed with his foot, before attempting to delicately set you on the edge of the bed. His plan was foiled as you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, the two of you laughing as you started peppering kisses across his face.

“Do you think anyone’ll notice we’re gone?” he asks as you hastily start removing his jacket. You shake your head while you loosen his tie.

“Nah, no one pays attention to the bride and groom after the cake is cut,” you reassure him. You start unbuttoning his shirt but Jamie seemingly has other ideas, as he leans in for a kiss while slowly and gently pushing you down on the bed.

His lips move against yours purposefully. Though Jamie proposed nearly a year ago, he could still hardly believe you wanted to marry him. And not only that, you actually went through with it! As of about four hours ago now you were officially a married couple, a thought that lived on repeat in his head since then but never failed to bring a wide grin to Jamie’s face.

“I still can’t believe it,” he whispers against your lips. His hands snake under your waist to blindly search for the zipper to your dress. “I really must be the luckiest man in the world.” Jamie continues to struggle, so you lift yourself off the mattress to give him better access. You brought your hands up to finish unbuttoning his shirt, and he found your zipper once you reached the last button. He pulled it down slowly as you both stared at each other with wide eyes, wanting to savor the moment.

Jamie pulled the straps of your dress down so your chest was exposed. You had chosen to forego a bra, seeing as your dress had built-in support. Jamie’s cheeks tinged pink as he brought a hand to your pebbled nipple, teasing it gently. Though you had both done this multiple times before, Jamie found himself feeling nervous. It felt different somehow; maybe it was the wedding, or maybe it was the champagne. He figured it was most likely the former.

“You’re so beautiful,” he tells you, absentmindedly brushing his thumb against your nipple once again. His other hand tugs the bodice of your dress down further. Once it reaches your waist he focuses his attention on both your breasts, leaning down to exchange kisses with you again.

Your hands impatiently settle on the waistband of his trousers; unbuckling his belt and tugging them down to free his hard cock. Jamie moans and deepens the kiss, and as a result his teeth scrape against yours. You wrangle your hand into his pink boxers and wrap your hand around his hard length, pumping it slowly. Your thumb catches the pre-cum on his swollen tip and you drag it across the side of his cock, allowing you to move your hand faster.

“Husband,” you call him between breaths, knowing it would fluster him. You crane your neck to whisper in his ear, “I hope you have a condom, ‘cause I forgot to take my pills.”

Jamie’s face turned a bright shade of crimson despite knowing you were lying. You mutually decided you weren’t ready for kids quite yet. But after finding out how turned on Jamie got at the idea of getting you pregnant, you couldn’t help but indulge him.

“I forgot them,” he groans, playing along. His cock twitches in your hand and he innocently asks, “but just this once won’t hurt, right?”

“Yeah I suppose not,” you sigh mischievously. Jamie pulls your hand away from his dick and intertwines his fingers with yours. He pushes your hand into the pillow next to your face. His other hand pushes his boxers down to his knees and he attempts to remove them entirely, but it ends up being a bit difficult one-handed. He manages with assistance from your own free hand, and the two of you work together in a similar way to remove the rest of your gown and undergarments.

Once you were fully naked Jamie wasted no time in delicately tracing his index finger along your wet slit. Your eyes close in bliss; anticipating the feeling of his thick cock that was soon to be inside you.

It doesn’t take long for Jamie to gather your wetness on his fingertips. He slowly pushes his finger in and your cunt tightens around it immediately; practically pulling it in. You wanted—no, needed—more.

Luckily your new husband was tuned into your needs, as he quickly added a second and third finger. He pressed his forehead against yours and attempted to kiss you despite your moaning mouth making it difficult for him. He widened the space between his fingers inside of you to help you accommodate him, but you both knew it would be a tight fit regardless.  

“Are you ready?” he pants into your open mouth. You feel the tip of his cock throbbing against your wet entrance, and you buck your hips in desperation. You whine when Jamie denies you and pulls away; insistent on verbal confirmation. You knew it was because he wanted to make sure he wouldn’t hurt you, but in the moment it always felt like unfair teasing.

“Y-yes,” you nod desperately. Jamie pushes the tip in slowly, admiring your quivering lip and scrunched eyebrows with lust-blown eyes. He trails his free-hand down to the back of one of your knees, pulling your leg up and over his hip as he continues pushing inside you.

Jamie moans when he’s fully sheathed in your tight pussy, not able to stop himself from giving you a quick thrust as he feels your cunt pulse around him. He readjusts his grip on your leg and begins thrusting slowly, gradually increasing his pace as you adjust.

Your nails dig into the mattress beneath you as Jamie starts fucking you hard and fast. He lets go of your hand to focus on your clit instead, swirling his thumb around it with uncharacteristic urgency. His other hand lifted your leg higher—over his shoulder—making you cry out from how much deeper he was now hitting inside of you. Despite your hazy vision, you’re able to make out your husband’s half-lidded eyes fixating on where the two of you were joined.

“Jamie,” you moan, “I need you to fill me up with your cum.” Jamie’s eyes flick to your face, biting his lip and groaning at your words. “Please, Jamie, please I-I don’t care if I get pregnant I just-I need it so badly I-“ you ramble, swiftly cut off by Jamie’s dick spurting inside of you.

His eyes widen in surprise as he realizes what he’s just done. Shame threatens to overtake him before he sees your head thrown back in pleasure, and he breathes a quick sigh of relief that he didn’t ruin things for you. He only needs to circle your clit a few more times to trigger your orgasm; which after doing so results in your pussy practically milking his spent cock.

After a few seconds of riding out your orgasm you lightly swat his hand away from your clitoris and Jamie complies, collapsing beside you. You both lay there in silence for a while, gasping for breath. Jamie’s hand searches for yours, and after linking his fingers with yours he pulls your hand up to look at it.

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, not sure why he’s looking at your hand so intensely. Then a sliver of your wedding band catches the light, and you remember.

“I hope Paula and I are never in the same waiting room,” you chuckle, breaking the silence. Jamie scoffs in amusement, letting your linked hands drop as he shifts his body to face you.

“Sorry, I know I keep being weird about it, it’s just,” he pauses, sighing. “I never thought I’d feel this way about another person again, and—if I’m being honest—it makes me question everything about my last relationship, like why did I even get together with her in the first place?” You both laugh. He shuffles closer to you, bringing his hand to a stray strand of your hair.

“But more than anything, it scares me,” he admits. Jamie feels a lump form in his throat. “I know you wouldn’t just disappear on me like that, but, I really don’t know what I’d do if I lost you,” he trails off, blinking away the tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

You scoot closer to him in an attempt to provide some comfort. After pulling the blankets over your naked bodies, you wrap your arm around his waist.

“It’s okay,” you start. “I can’t promise it’ll never happen, because who knows what the future holds? I might get kidnapped by a psychopath for all we know.” Jamie gives you a raised eyebrow, so you continue. “But we made a promise today, and I intend to keep it; ‘for better or for worse’ and all that jazz.” Your eyes meet again, and Jamie looks at you hopefully. “So instead I can promise I’ll still be here in the morning, and I’ll tell you that every night if I have to.”

Jamie cracks a smile, feeling reassured by your promise. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest and pressing a kiss to the crown of your head before he responds. “Thank you. I love you so much,” he mumbles into your hair.

“I love you too.” Jamie presses another kiss to your head once you say this, as if to silently acknowledge it. You slowly drift to sleep in his arms and he soon follows, comforted by the knowledge that you’d still be there when he woke up. 

[baynton]

thanks for the tag @thelastplantagenet <3

for the sake of this tag game i'll only be using my main/current ao3 account to answer with. otherwise it'll get far too messy

1. How many fics do you have on AO3?

53, and i only made this account and started posting on it in january of this year. i'm very normal

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

144,946

3. What fandoms do you write for?

mostly just mat fandoms to be honest, although i've got like... 4? non-mat fics on this account. i will be disregarding those 4 fics from now on (because obviously bigger fandoms get more recognition and this is a Mat Account)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

- Cold Turkey - 24 kudos, pat/thomas

- Performance - 22 kudos, thomas/julian, thomas/getting bukkaked by all the ghosts

- Follow Through - 22 kudos, alison/thomas

- Simon Says - 20 kudos, mat/simon

- Permanently - 16 kudos, julian/thomas

obviously since ghosts is the biggest mat show, it makes sense (not really anyone reading fics for ymata, spy, the wrong mans, etc)

5. Do you respond to comments?

i'm a lazy shit, and usually forget. when my friends comment they also tend to message me about it in the mat discord (if you're 18+ and want to join hmu it's a lot of fun) where i post all my fics too, so i tend to reply to them over there to be honest, but sometimes when i remember or am particularly touched by a comment i will go and reply

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

definitely "tell me what you imagine, when you think of me." rip ariel. literally

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

okay well it's not actually finished yet, though i have a good idea of where i'm taking it when i get around to writing more, but i'd say Fixer-Upper probably. chris waltzes into joe's life, improves it, then starts giving him lots of kinky sex while they also dance around ~actually dating~ (which they will end up doing properly. when i get around to writing it)

8. Do you get hate on fics?

generally, no. i make it clear what my fics contain, whether that's kinks, rpf, dubcon/noncon, etc, so most people know not to click if they're not interested. i did have a hate comment on simon says a while back, i remember because it was genuinely funny

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

yes, lol. and all kinds, ranging from sweet to kinky as sin

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

i write many crossovers, i mean. i write a lot of mat character/mat character so like chris x joe (spy x reluctant persuaders), ariel x chris (ymata x spy), but yeah they're only really crossovers in the sense that i'm like hmm this mat character should fuck/date this mat character. the only ones i *properly* create a believable crossover world for are my chris x joe fics, because i'm very normal about them

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

don't see why anyone would bother stealing mine, the mat fandom is so tiny there's not much to steal. emma @toomanyfandomsneverenoughtime has written a few fics based on my favourite chris x joe crossover world i created, though, which isn't stealing but the greatest gift ever <3

12. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

no, actually! i would 1000000% cowrite with emma though. if she wanted to :3

13. What's your all time favourite ship?

look. look.l ook. i can't choose between ariel x jamie and chris x joe but if i had to. chris x joe lol

14. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will?

i fully intend to finish my wips! i have the next chapter and a half written for Paid in Trade, i just haven't published it, and i've also got further plans for Fixer-Upper, and those are my only wips. most of my fics just tend to be smutty oneshots tbh

15. What are your writing strengths?

i write pretty good smut when i actually put in the effort, as opposed to being like oh god i have this smutty idea and i need to get it out of my head so i'm just gonna write it all in two hours and then post it because why not

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

having patience. i'm trying to write a longer sam/marat fic at the moment but i just keep wanting to rush ahead to the good bit rather than drag out the slow burn, even though i really want to. i'm impatient af tbh

17. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

i only speak english and would probably definitely butcher another language. however if i ever have a need for a character to speak another language, i would probably make it czech so i could get @the-illuminated-one to provide me with actual sensical sentences as opposed to google translating it

18. First fandom you wrote for?

ohhhh wow kingdom hearts lol. but those are all wiped from the internet. there's still some ancient glee fics i wrote out there though, which came right after the kh era

19. Favourite fic you've written?

keeping it within the mat fandoms once again (otherwise i will just talk about my jopper fake dating fic which i am still so fucking proud of lol), probably come closer (ariel x jamie), but there's also a few fics i'm working on that are completely unpublished atm that i am very very attached to haha

and now for tagging. i tag @toomanyfandomsneverenoughtime, @sonnet-of-anarchy, @kore538, @goodonecap. no pressure, i just love u guys and know u all write. xo

[toomanyfandomsneverenoughtime]

Thanks for the tag @joestarling 💖

1. How many fics do you have on AO3? 85, including none Mat fics.

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 203,323

3. What fandoms do you write for? Mainly Mat fandoms but in the past, I wrote some DC (mainly Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, etc.)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? Cats and Birds Never Did Play Well Together - DC - Jay/Tim - 770 kudos The Carnality of Twist-It - BBC Ghosts - The Captain/Thomas - 349 kudos On Loan - DC - Dick/Slade, Dick/Jason - 314 kudos Catching Up With My Eyes Wide Shut - BBC Ghosts - The Captain/Julian/Thomas - 214 kudos Don't Knock It Until You've Tried It - BBC Ghosts - Julian/Thomas - 140 kudos

5. Do you respond to comments? It depends on the comment and the commentor. I know I can get away with not replying to every comment from some people, they know I love and appreciate everything they say but if it's someone I don't know, I will tend to reply in the hopes that they'll read more of my things!

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Possibly Ariel's Parting Gift, simply because it ends in pretty much the same way that YMATA does with some added angst.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? I don't know, maybe Fanny Five Ways, it ends pretty well for Fanny?

8. Do you get hate on fics? Not directly, though I know that there's some hate on the previously mentioned fic on Twitter 🙃

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Yep, it's all I write, usually at least elements at BDSM or kink, very rarely soft.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? I do write crossovers but mainly Mat characters with Mat characters from different universes. I guess the craziest ones that I write are when I have Mat himself with Thomas and Julian and I guess that's a tad far fetched but it was fun to write and hopefully fun to read!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know of but myself and @joestarling seem to readily influence each other with fic ideas and universes and it's wonderful &lt;3

12. Have you ever cowritten a fic before? I did when I was much younger but my "cowriting", I wrote one chapter and they wrote another and we didn't really input into each others chapters because I don't like criticism 🤣

13. What's your all time favourite ship? Ariel/Chris

14. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will? To be honest, I always end up coming up with ideas for further chapters of most of the fics that I write but there's no way that I'll finish them or even start them in some cases.

15. What are your writing strengths? Honestly, I don't know really. I can tell you what I like in my own fics and it's my own style of writing? I know I like this because I read a writer whose writing felt very similar to mine and I found it so easy and so enjoyable to read.

16. What are your writing weaknesses? Self-doubt, needing very precise conditions to be able to write, laziness when it comes to editing, and much, much more.

17. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? What I'd normally do is just write the dialogue in English, in Italics and make it clear that it's a different language, that's what I did for writing Russian in an unpublished fic.

18. First fandom you wrote for? Back to the Future, it's still out there, just not on my AO3 account.

19. Favourite fic you've written? My personal favourite is my recent Ariel/Tentacle fic because I've wanted to write it for a while and I could write it in the exact way that it existed in my brain?

(Not tagging because I don't really know anyone else that writes fic - but if you see this and you want to do it, feel free to and tag me in your answers!)

[sleepingdeath-bboys]

deflowering ; 18+

full title ; deflowering (or; the societal over-reliance on euphemisms to other female sexuality)

requested by ; anonymous

pairing ; jamie winton x female!virgin!reader

tag list ; @jamiewintons | @pink-booty-butts

word count ; 3353

warnings ; soft jamie, giggly sex, anxious sex, self conscious reader, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, overuse of euphemisms (for plot reasons dw!!), potential ooc dialogue

note ; the prompt given for this one shot is very close to my heart as feeling “too old” to still have your virginity (as strange of a concept as that may sound to those who don’t share that concern) is an anxiety that i heavily relate to despite being quite young (18 as of publishing this). so i hope that this relatability to the prompt allowed me to convey the insert’s anxieties and feelings more accurately than i may have done otherwise.

read also on ; ao3 | wattpad

In a society that both encouraged and admonished female sexuality and sexual liberation, it was no wonder that you’d ended up in this scenario. Being fed the idea that virginity is a virtue to be praised and preserved for the right person (and only that person) from one end whilst the other side of the coin pushed you to abandon those learned ideals and get the whole thing (read: loss of virginity) over and done with as soon as possible.

Sex was gentle and sweet and intimate. Making love to the love of your life. Becoming one to consummate a relationship, a wedding. A dance, a tango, a messy fun and private moment that was to be treasured and adored.

But it was also primal and carnal and bloody. Fucking like wild animals: biting and scratching and bucking like prey caught in a snare. Or worse; emotionless and casual with unnamed unbothered partners that were as intimate as filling out a job application.

A chore. A duty. An obligation.

You’d only ever known of it through the lens of such euphemisms and the touch of your own hand. Not branching out and finding a partner out of the fear of rejection and, as you got older, being outright mocked — transitioning from accusations of sluttishness and looseness should you have slept around to confusion and whispers of prudishness for the fact that you hadn’t. It was all a game of language and, for a woman, there was no way for one to win — only accusations of varying severity and implications depending on which side of the spectrum you fell.

And all of this anxiety and trepidation had culminated in the current predicament you found yourself in as you peppered kisses all about your boyfriends face. As you felt his warm, large hands on your waist, thumbs just barely skimming against the sliver of exposed skin that had manifested itself as you leaned upwards to shower him with affection.

Gentle touches. Gentle kisses. Gentle words. Gentle love. Gentle everything.

Gentle enough that you felt… ready. Well as ready as you’d ever felt (or ever would be, you supposed) and you had no earthly clue how to bring it up. How to bring it up in any way that didn’t feel painfully awkward and wouldn’t leave you so mortified that you’d never be able to look Jamie in the eyes again. How to go about… well… not disappointing him.

But rather than give yourself the time to overthink too much, you briefly swallowed your anxiety and spat out the first phrase that came to mind with a loudness that you hadn’t intended (which startled both you and your darling boyfriend).

“I think I’m ready to go further this time,”

————

For a few short moments that felt closer to an eternity, all Jamie did was stare; wide-eyed and slack-jawed entirely robbed of his ability to speak as his cheeks and ears took on a flattering red hue. Though this silence did little to soothe your thoughts and, now panicked, you began to spew out a string of consciousness that even you could barely understand. A half dozen “well”s and “but”s and “um”s and “if”s spilled from your lips beyond your control as you tried to justify yourself to him and, arguably even more so, yourself — ranting slightly and stammering over your words until Jamie finally came back to his senses and silenced you with a chaste kiss on your lips.

“Hey,” he soothed kindly, reaching up to gently stroke his thumb along the side of your face, “it’s okay; you don’t need to justify anything. Not to me. Not when it comes to this.” He then pressed another kiss against your skin, this time to your cheekbone and you could feel him smile as he paused there for a second. And after a few beats he finally pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes, searching your features for even the slightest hint of hesitation.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Seeing your startled expression, he stuttered for a few moments and hurried to clarify what he meant, his face paling with his own panic as he spoke. “N-Not that I don’t want to — I do, I really do. It’s just that you’ve never really spoken about it until now and I don’t want you to feel pressured to do anything and—”

“I’m sure!” You spoke a bit louder than intended, stopping his rant in its tracks and losing your short-lived burst of confidence the moment those big, loving eyes met yours. “I— uh,” you looked away, worrying your lip between your teeth for a few seconds as you caught your breath before continuing in a quieter, shakier voice despite your attempts at willing it to be anything but, “I’ve just not, um… I’ve never done this before and I don’t want to disappoint you. That’s all,”

“Lovely,” Jamie began rather sternly, nudging his nose against the underside of your jaw as you remained resolute in facing away from him, “you could never disappoint me; not in a million years — or even more than that. You being a virgin isn’t a problem for me, it never would be and if I ever made you feel that way I am so so sorry.” Another pause as he caught his breath and pulled away, gently trying to coax you to look over at him. “I love you as you are, for who you are, not for what you can offer me — or whatever it is people say. I’ve only ever been with one person before you and I would’ve been happy to wait however long you needed for us to, well, have sex,” you could see his cheeks getting slightly more pinkish in the corner of your eye when the word passed his lips, “or forever if you didn’t want that. So please don’t think that anything about you could disappoint me — you’re already far better than what I deserve and I’d be a fool to pass you over for something like that. Or for anything, really.”

At that you finally turned to look at him, your vision misty with tears as you shook your head and opened your mouth to scold him for being so self deprecating. Though you didn’t get very far before he quieted you with another, more passionate kiss that stole your breath and blanked your mind for a few moments — only pulling away a few millimetres to rest his forehead against yours as he continued.

“Are you still up for this?”

And, as certain as you’d ever been about such a thing, you nodded and responded in something just above a whisper; something that brought a sweet smile to your boyfriend’s lips.

“Of course I am, darling,”

————

That verbal confirmation was all it took for Jamie to start slowly and gradually undressing you, looking up to you for consent each time until you were completely bare before you.

Your thick winter jumper was the first to go, followed shortly by your bra (which he was shockingly effective at). He took his time with your chest: trailing kisses down from your jawline to your throat down past your collarbone to your sternum with a gentleness and chasteness that left you speechless; teasing each of your breasts in turn, rolling your nipples between his thumb and forefinger until they were erect and groping your breasts completely just to feel you arch your back into his touch; sliding his hands up and down your sides and showing his appreciation very thoroughly to each and every inch of skin that was newly exposed to his loving gaze.

Then came your jeans and panties, which he quickly undid and slid down your legs before disposing over the side of the bed. His attentions first turned to your stomach, kissing his way down your body as he manoeuvred you so that you were laying on your back. Every touch against your skin sent a new wave of heat straight to your core and you just barely bit back a whine when his large hands began to spread your thighs — his touch light and affectionate but strong enough to position you however he needed.

And, after taking a moment to press a kiss against your ankle, he moved both of your legs over his shoulders and pulled you carefully towards him so that your soaked cunt was a hair’s breath away from his warm, eager mouth. The only warning he offered beyond asking for your approval was an assurance that you needed to be prepped for him before he finally focused his attentions right where you needed him.

————

As with most things, Jamie made a point to take his time with you, savouring the experience of your first time. He started with his tongue: flatly licking slow, long stripes from your throbbing clit to your gushing entrance and moaning at your flavour; alternating between shyly circling the tip of his tongue over your clit and kitten-licking at it, testing the waters to see what made you cry out the loudest; tentatively entering you with his tongue, shallowly thrusting a few centimetres in before returning his attentions elsewhere. All the while lovingly caressing your legs as they trembled and quaked atop his shoulders and occasionally turning his head to the side to place a chaste kiss to your inner thigh before looking up at you with those beautiful brown eyes and praising you for doing so well.

Then, after a good minute or so of that, he started to incorporate his hands into your pleasure — a part of himself he was much more confident with when it came to sex. He slowly pushed one long digit into your soaked pussy, his movements slow and careful as he tested the waters; moving with rather than against you until he bottomed out at his knuckle. Settling for a few moments until you started squirming and bucking to get him to move — a demand he quickly complied with. His pace, as you’d come to expect, was very gentle and languid, treating you as if you were made of something fragile like porcelain or glass whilst looking at you as if you were a living piece of art (like the stained glass in a church that you’d revere from the pews).

And for a while that was enough. The patient thrusting of his finger and the suckling of your clit was enough to have your head spinning and your chest arching upwards seeking the pleasure that was starting to flood through your veins. But, knowing what was to come, Jamie began to integrate another finger into the mix: scissoring, fingering, crooking and doing what he could to stretch and prepare you for him — even managing to get up to three fingers before the tightening and fluttering of your cunt was too much for him to keep going as deep as he had.

That overwhelming unfamiliar feeling of being stretched from the inside out had your mind reeling and the mixture of mild pain and overwhelming pleasure was enough to send you over the edge of your climax. You felt like a living breathing contradiction, a paradoxical mess of incoherent rambling that bordered on the edge of manic sobbing as your boyfriend diligently guided you through your climax.

The heart of a hummingbird; the lungs of a drowning woman; sweat-slicked heated skin of someone burning alive and the icy veins of someone frozen in place. Spasming, thrashing, trembling beneath his touch as your foggy mind raced a thousand miles a minute — consumed, maddened by thoughts of him and his touch and his voice and his eyes that you could barely see or hear through your pleasure spurred stupor.

Everything was too much. Too bright. Too loud. Too far.

Yet it wasn’t enough — too quiet, not close enough, not clear enough — was your senses grew dulled as you came down from your high. Relaxing and returning to the physical world in comfortable waves that Jamie helped you brace against with his slowly lessening ministrations. Only stopping once he was sure you were alright to pull back and utter a simple statement that had you moaning and reaching for him to tug him up the bed, over your body and towards your neglected lips that missed him and his taste so dearly.

“We can stop here if you want; I know that I can be a bit… much to take,”

But you were too far gone, too wanting of him, to stop now — and you wanted nothing more than to take everything he had to offer. Everything of his. And you hoped that the ferocity of your kiss was enough to convince him of that as all of your words had left you.

————

The moment your lips touched you were hit with the tang of your slick that still stuck to his tongue and you found yourself enjoying the intimacy of it all. Though you had little time to revel in the closeness before Jamie broke the kiss and you could feel the very tip of his length pressing against your dripping entrance — and when you looked between the two of you, you couldn’t help but gasp.

He was absolutely massive — something that he’d managed to hide remarkably well until now. The length alone was rather intimidating, but that combined with his impressive girth had your mouth and throat running dry as you considered just what you’d gotten into. His head was swollen and a darker pinkish tone and there was a slight upwards curve that you could notice and you felt a wave of heat rushing to your core as your thoughts flitted to just how he’d feel inside of you. And you’d have continued to get lost in those thoughts if Jamie hadn’t cleared his throat and spoken up again.

“The moment you want me to stop or that I start hurting you, please just tell me and we can stop. I won’t judge you or get mad, I want you to be comfortable — okay, love?”

And you swallowed thickly. And you looked into those sincere eyes. And you smiled and pressed a chaste kiss against his nose. And you nodded and giggled slightly in spite of yourself when his cheeks reddened at your display of affection.

And then he started to slowly push into you.

————

He slid into you inch by inch and you could feel yourself stretching far beyond what you thought was possible. Your senses were overwhelmed with an addictive combination of pain and pleasure that complimented one another so deliciously and was fuelled by the intoxicating strain and ache of your needy cunt as he finally — finally — bottomed out inside of you.

For several moments you just stayed like that, unmoving and barely breathing as you adjusted to the sheer magnitude of what was inside of you. Though the wait was made much more manageable by Jamie's freely given affection as he peppered kisses all over your face and neck and collarbones — murmuring the sweetest and most genuine praise in a strained voice that had your cheeks burning.

"You're doing so well, sweetheart,"

"You're the most beautiful woman in the world,"

"You're so perfect,"

"I love you so much,"

"You feel so good, darling,"

Soon after, you started to move of your own accord, cautiously circling your hips and gently bucking to test the waters of what you could take — all actions that coaxed quiet moans and groans from your boyfriend’s throat. Although each movement of your hips made you wince and sent shocks of pain up your spine, they were quickly overwhelmed by the pleasurable heat that had started to claw its way up through your body from your core and, whilst still slightly oversensitive from your first climax, you wanted to chase that second high. Urging Jamie to start moving with a reassuring smile and gentle touches to his face and kisses along his lips and jawline and promises that you were fine and that you’d let him know if it got too much.

You could take it — take him — you were certain of it.

And, ever the compliant lover, Jamie relented and started to move once again — his pace slow and reluctant and cautious as he was still terrified of hurting you. Yet, for now, that considerate rhythm was more than enough for you both and you began to clumsily bring each other to the peak of climax.

It was messy and unsure but so very perfectly chaotic that you couldn’t help but giggle between your moans: you alternated between carding your hands through his soft hair and digging your nails into his shoulders to pull him closer and to ground yourself; your lips and tongues and teeth were clashing in a messy, passionate kiss wherein you each greedily, eagerly swallowed every vulgar, lord sound that left the other’s throat; your hips ground down against his in a faltering, loose rhythm that complimented the slow, shallow thrusts of his thick cock into your soaked pussy; his nose was bumping clumsily against yours and occasional giggly apologies were given after each collision.

But you didn’t find it in yourself to complain. You couldn’t; the atmosphere was too light and comfortable and intimate and your mind was already occupied with other more pressing matters.

Matters involving him. The feeling of his soft lips against your own as he praised you against your skin and placed assuring kisses on the edges of your mouth before going back to kissing you properly. The warmness of his voice as he praised you, the giddy anxiousness that tinged his laughter whenever one of you would slip or make a mistake, the darker almost huskier edge to his tone whenever he moaned or groaned into you. The constant thrusting of his hips against yours where, no matter how shallowly he moved, you were still keenly aware of every curve and ridge and vein that decorated his lengthy shaft as he damn near tattooed his shape inside of you. Moulding your sensitive inner walls so that you would only think of him — all of him — whenever you touched yourself.

The way he always managed to brush against your g-spot and have your back arching straight up into his chest. The way his warm, large hands felt as they gripped your hip for stability and caressed the side of your face with a gentleness you’d grown all too accustomed to.

Warm. Light. Intimate. Perfect.

You couldn’t have asked for a better first time as your thoughts lost their coherency and sense and you fell over the precipice for the second time that day. With blurry, white edged vision. With lungs that burned and ached for air as you moaned sluttishly into his mouth. With limbs that had turned to mush, only able to tremble and cling to your boyfriend, pulling him closer and closer until you were as close as two people could possibly be. With your body and mind overwhelmed with wave after wave of pleasure as you soaked Jamie and the bedsheet beneath you.

With his name on your lips and his visage imprinted on the inside of your eyelids.

Your darling Jamie followed soon after, hastily pulling out and coming onto your stomach with a muffled exclamation of your name all but shouted against your lips. Panting, heaving, groaning until he finally collapsed beside you and pulled you against him so that you were resting comfortably at his side.

And though your voice was too hoarse and your body too exhausted to speak, you grinned widely, tiredly up at him and admired those beautiful, blown-out eyes in the afterglow of your first time together. He was always beautiful (you frequently found yourself just staring at him for no reason at all), but now he was gorgeous, with that soft brown hair all messed up and a lopsided grin adorning his face — his touch, and everything else about him, seeming so much gentler now. You hoped that he thought of you the same way.

And, of course, he did.

[sleepingdeath-bboys]

baby fever ; 18+

pairing ; jamie winton x cis female!reader

tag list ; @jamiewintons | @pink-booty-butts

word count ; 736

warnings ; sexually explicit content, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink

read also on ; ao3 | wattpad

All it had taken was that single suggestion, those short six words: ‘I want to have your baby’. A sentence murmured, half mumbled and slurred, when he was already buried to the hilt inside of your fluttering cunt — part instinctual need voiced in an intimate moment, part conscious confession of a want you’d been carrying around ever since your wedding day (brief months that felt like decades to you in the moment).

But that one plea, that begging moan, had brought your darling Jamie to a pause. Hips stuttering as his hazy mind caught up with what you’d said and his cheeks and neck started to turn a pretty, flustered pink.

‘What?’ Unsure, uncertain of what he’d heard and not wanting to push, and yet desperate to hear it again.

‘I,’ you licked your lips and swallowed thickly, trying to string together something coherent despite your foggy thoughts, ‘I said I want to have a baby with you, Jamie.’

Certain, sure, yet still flustered with your kissed skin burning with embarrassment as your husband stared down at you with those beautiful doe eyes of his. Silent, considering and processing your every word until something finally clicked and a bright — sunlight in the golden hour of a crisp winter morning bright — grin split across his face and those stunning eyes grew wet with unshed tears (and you whimpered as you felt his large cock practically jump inside of you).

Then he leaned down and started peppering kisses all over your face as he finally started to move again: slower, more gentle, but no less passionate as he deliberately angled his hips so that the engorged tip of his dick was brushing against that spot inside of you with every thrust. Whispering teary ‘thank you’s and ‘I love you’s as he kissed your sweaty forehead, your heavy eyelids, your burning cheeks, the bridge and tip of your nose, your chin, and finally your smiling lips — the final kiss deeper and messier as you buried your hands in his messy brown hair and held him in place as he moaned and whimpered against you.

Endlessly loving, as he always was, even as he started to push you closer to climax — this time clearly, audibly, more eager than ever before (he’d always wanted a family, after all, so how could he not be excited at the opportunity?). Placing one slender hand on the underside of your thigh to keep you stable as he made love to you whilst the other rested comfortably beside your head to keep you upright. Trying dearly to hold on for you even as you felt his pace start to falter and grow clumsy, heard him get louder even as his moans and gasps were muffled by your kiss, and it became clear that he was also teetering over the edge of climax. Downright begging you, breathless and moaning between syllables, to ‘cum for me’ and ‘let me hear you’, repeating ‘please’ and ‘sweetheart’ and ‘darling’ over and over again until his voice cracked and something in you snapped and you were sent tumbling over the edge.

Finishing to the sound of him uttering your name in a half-sob, half-moan against your lips and the feeling of him following you a short few seconds later: filling you with his seed until it started to leak out of you around his softening dick, dripping down your ass and pooling on the bedsheets along with your own slick. Only able to cry out for him in moans and whimpers and cusses you knew would be enough to make him blush in any other moment — not that your lust wracked mind was able to think such things. No, you were much too far gone for that.

The only image you were able to form in the height of your orgasm was a blissful one that made your racing heart swell with hope and longing: Jamie, your Jamie, surrounded by children and beaming with pride. So very at home and content in a scene you’d yet to see and only hoped you’d get to experience yourself in the near future. A single coherent sentence flashing briefly through your mind at the conjured sight before you were once again pulled under the white hot tidal wave of pleasure that your beloved had so lovingly inflicted upon you.

Fatherhood really did suit Jamie, and you couldn’t wait to start your family together…

[sleepingdeath-bboys]

beloved boy ; 18+

requested by ; anonymous

pairing ; jamie winton x female!reader

tag list ; @jamiewintons | @pink-booty-butts

word count ; 1208

warnings ; slight sub!jamie, overstimulation, corruption kink, use of massage oils, reader rides jamie, potentially odd pacing/writing style as author wrote this in a hotel room whilst recovering from a long ass walk lol

read also on ; ao3 | wattpad

Jamie Winton was many things — adorable, endearing, polite, considerate, to name a few— but chief amongst those was inexperienced. Innocent out of circumstance and more easy to accidentally scandalise than a 19th century puritan if you suggested anything beyond romantic, mostly vanilla sex.

He was more than happy to praise you or be praised, to take his time to adore and deliver you with his tongue and fingers before even thinking of himself. He’d be as intimate and gentle as you asked him to be and, in rare occasions, he could be swayed by your pleas to be a bit risky and get handsy beyond the boundaries of your bedroom — but he’d sooner die than hurt you. Selfless to a fault and always willing and eager to please; that was your Jamie.

But once, just once, you wanted to put him first. Prioritise his pleasure, his needs, his wants — get him whining and moaning and vocal for and because of you. Call it a guilty pleasure, a dirty secret, or your most recurring subject of fantasy when your hands wandered between your legs… but you wanted nothing more than to bring that beautiful writhing vision into fruition.

For him, of course. Nothing nefarious about wanting to please your boyfriend, nothing at all.

————

The opportunity finally presented itself one fateful Friday afternoon; Jamie had come home from work early due to stress and he looked more like someone fresh out of a war zone than an office building by the time he stumbled through the door. 3pm sharp, of course.

And you, endlessly selfless and adoring you, ushered him up to the bedroom and downright begged him to let you take care of him. To make him feel good and have the various stresses of the day melt away under your tender, loving touch. And Jamie, loving and selfless and exhausted Jamie, let his shoulders relax and agreed.

No bickering. No insistence of letting him go down on you first. No overused argument of him getting more than enough pleasure from pleasuring you.

Just agreement. Submission to your idea in its purest form and you fucking loved it. Revelled in it — silently of course, Jamie came first for now.

————

You began by undressing him slowly, taking your time between removing crinkled garments to take care of him. Kissing each inch of exposed skin until you’d trailed your lips down from his jawline to the very tip of his happy trail — being sure to keep yourself contained and chaste, which became more and more difficult with every sigh and groan he let out. First was his blazer and shirt and tie, then went his trousers, socks and those oddly arousing pink boxers — all of which you took care to fold and place to the side, removing his stress in some small way.

Then you went and fetched a small container of massage oil and, after having him lay on his stomach, smeared the pleasantly scented liquid onto your hands and began working it into his back and shoulders. Tenderly, expertly working through each of his knots until they relaxed away before moving down and across to the next. Each action rewarded with a low groan, hushed moan or whimper that had wave after wave of heat rushing to your core.

But you ignored it; Jamie came first.

Once content with your treatment, you urged him to roll over onto his back and, taking a moment to admire the relaxed expression on his face, addressed him once again.

“Want me to take care of the rest of your stress my way?” You asked, voice low and tone warm as you reached down to gently wrap your hand around his half hard cock. “Or would you rather we pop on a film and I make us something to eat?”

As much as you wanted to fuck his brains out, you didn’t want to pressure him into anything. For as selfless as Jamie was, the last thing you wanted was for him to end up doing something for your sake that was meant to be for his.

Though, thankfully, your concerns were immediately dissipated once Jamie — your loving, darling Jamie — bucked up into your hand and, with the reddest cheeks you’d seen, murmured his want to go with your idea.

And who were you to deny him?

————

Undressing yourself wasn’t something you afforded the same tenderness and pace that you did him, instead opting to just hastily remove your shorts and (at this point absolutely drenched) panties before positioning your soaked core over Jamie’s intimidating length. A few slides of your hips along his dick — root to tip several times over — had him fully erect and more than lubricated enough for you to take. Which you did with great vigour, as you so often did: positioning his leaking head at your greedy hole and sinking down as quickly as you could comfortably manage until you had taken him fully.

The stretch was painful, it always was, but not unmanageable and after placing your hands on Jamie’s chest to steady yourself you began to move. Bouncing yourself with your thighs wasn’t the easiest thing, but when his hands flew to your hips it became much smoother and, as you’d intended, very quickly began to coax the most wonderfully pornographic sounds from your boyfriend’s lips.

Of course there were plenty of groans that had him throwing his head back into the pillow, moans that had his mouth parting in a perfect “o” shape and whimpers that made your skin erupt in gooseflesh in the most wonderful way. But there were also plenty of cusses and praise and pleas interspersed with cries of your name that had you keening and moaning in time with him.

Your name broken with a moan that sounded straight out of the movies Dave liked to watch at full volume every night. “F-Faster” stuttered between gritted teeth as he bucked his hips up to meet you. “Like that!” All but shouted as his nails dug into your hips and his heart beat, beneath your fingertips, spiked.

A dozen pet names, all sickeningly sweet and familiar, spilled earnestly from his lips as he finally reached his peak. Climaxing with your name on his lips and stuttering hips that failed to match your pace as you desperately tried to hold back your own release to prolong this.

Prolong disheveled, feral look of him beneath you: pupils blown wide, teeth gritted, neat hair sticking out every which way and skin tinted red and covered in sweat. Prolong his pleasure as his softening cock throbbed and trembled and spilled and filled you to the brink with his cum. Prolong the way that he looked up at you with a mixed look of reverence and pleading as you rode him to the point of tears and incoherent babbling and trembling fingertips as he grasped at you — desperate to ground himself through his endless high.

Then, and only then, did you let go and allow yourself to climax. Your mind running blank in time with the growth of white spots that blotted out your vision as you collapsed forwards onto Jamie — sweet, adoring Jamie — and allowed your mixed releases to trickle out of your spent, sensitive pussy.

[sleepingdeath-bboys]

for all the world to see ; 18+

pairing ; ariel conroy x female!reader

word count ; 2555

warnings ; ariel gives the reader a lot of hickeys, jealous/possessive!ariel, public sex, orgasm denial, choking, mild degradation, porn with very minimal plot

note ; not really that confident in my portrayal of ariel’s character here, so will probably rewrite this at some point. but i really wanted to put something out for now and this was the quickest idea for me to write between uni assignments.

read also on ; ao3 | wattpad

Ariel Conroy is a jealous, jealous man — which, in saying as such, is an observation equally as shocking as the idea of finding a fork in one’s kitchen. It’s in his nature to be that way; a trait woven so tightly into his very being — his very soul — that you’d struggle to find the point where the desperate possessiveness ends and Ariel himself begins, the two being as close and interchangeable as two concepts can be.

A fork is always going to be found in the kitchen (at least so long as the sensible have a say in the matter) and your boyfriend was always going to have something of a jealous streak. It’s natural, expected (comfortable, even) to have such certainties in one’s life so why complain about things that cannot — or will not — be changed? It’s a waste of energy and nothing more.

Though there were moments when things could get somewhat out of hand — chaotic, even — and even more so than one could expect whilst travelling with a notorious and actively wanted cyberterrorist. Moments where you found yourself wishing that you’d chosen a partner that could at least wait until you were somewhere private to address his grievances.

Moments such as this; where the consequence wasn’t as much of a concern as the location, and you’re forced to try and talk down your dear partner whilst actively losing the capacity to form much of anything coherent beyond sparse babbling of his name and pleas in tones you didn’t even know you could produce.

————

The moment you were just barely out of sight, Ariel shoved you back against the nearest wall and began to make his way down from your jawline to your collarbone. Every new inch of skin he found was met with a nip and suckle, his bites harsh enough to leave a mark but not deep enough to draw blood, before he soothed them briefly with a kiss and moved on. It almost seemed to be a game for him, the holding you in place and marking every visible millimetre of skin he could find as you whimpered out protests neither of you believed.

Though even through this darker, possessive bout of Ariel’s, his overwhelming love for you was apparent; appearing in, admittedly rather short, bursts — smiling when you giggled as his soft hair tickled you and pressing a passionate kiss to your pulse when he felt it thrumming beneath his lips. Oases of gentleness that were soon overshadowed by the almost animalistic nature of his next movements.

By the way his two strong hands caught the neatly buttoned edges of your blouse, fiddling the buttons for a matter of seconds before juggling against your throat and just tearing it apart instead. His hands then found purchase on your breasts, groping and massaging them for several moments through the fabric of your bra before tiring of that too and pushing it up and over your chest, giving him further access to what he craved.

Ariel took your breasts into his hands and started to tease you once again, paying particular attention to your nipples in order to coax as many lewd sounds from your lips as possible. He’d roll, tweak and pull at them as they hardened in his hands, not stopping even as you arched your chest into him nor as you began to whine and whimper from how sensitive you were becoming.

No. He only stopped when he grew bored of simple teasing and started to crave the feel of your cunt — the inviting wetness that greeted him whenever he bent you over and took you at home. The delightful sounds that only he got the privilege of hearing from you; that were sure to let anyone else know that you belonged to him and him alone.

So, with that thought in mind, he found himself smirking against the edge of your collarbone as he pulled away from your chest — offering you a very brief reprieve from his all encompassing, overstimulating possessiveness.

Then, with all the finesse of a wild animal, he reached down and forced your jeans and panties down to your knees — almost tearing them with the ferocity of his movements — before harshly shoving two of those sinfully long fingers into your waiting pussy. His movements, his pace, were rough and fast as they always tended to be, but they nonetheless had you keening and throwing your head back so harshly that you knocked yourself against the wall behind you, a quick burst of pain that was soon overwhelmed by the pleasure your boyfriend was so freely providing.

The pleasure he eagerly gave as he alternated between sloppily fingering your slick cunt and rubbing tight circles against your swollen clit, all the while murmuring (almost growling) about how you — your body, your pleasure, your everything — belongs to him.

"This soaking wet pussy belongs to me,"

"My girl,"

"Only I get to touch you like this,"

Mine, mine, mine. All his, always, and you weren't exactly in the state of mind to correct him — nor did you truthfully want to. Not when he felt so fucking incredible.

Every thrust and crook and scissor of those damn fingers brought you closer to your climax, each movement another step towards the edge that he so often had you teetering over when he got in these moods. Your vision was now starting to blur and your grip on his shoulders was strong enough that you were shocked you hadn't torn through the flimsy material of his jacket and shirt — though your mind was racing far beyond such concerns.

No, instead your thoughts all centred around him: his stupidly talented fingers and his ridiculously soft lips that continued to mark their way up and down your throat as you trembled and keened in his shockingly strong grip. Every thrust you found yourself matching, bucking upwards and grinding into his palm as you eagerly sought out the relief of your orgasm, mind fogging and lips parting as you let out a string of barely coherent praise and blasphemy, each word broken up by the moans and pants and sighs and groans that Ariel continued to pull from you with his well practised ministrations about your sex and clit.

He was playing you like an instrument, fingering and circling and pulling away to pace himself just right to get exactly what he craved from you — exactly what he needed to validate and appease his jealousy. And, though you'd normally have tried to hold back, in that moment you couldn't help but to give him the satisfaction, the upper hand, as he worked you like fine clay beneath the hand of a talented sculptor; building you up on his terms only to bring you out of your stupor a few moments later — pausing your thoughts just shy of your peak.

————

"Getting close there, babe?" He cooed against your collarbone, punctuating his question by crooking his fingers inside your tight cunt. When all you could do was moan, Ariel tutted and pulled away completely, mock pouting when you whined and tilting his head as he looked at you with a mix of pity and disapproval. "Without my permission?"

"N-No, Ariel," you barely managed, bucking into his hand that was just millimetres away from your needy sex, "never, promise!"

Your desperation coaxed a short bout of laughter from your boyfriend as he shook his head and brought those two fingers up to your lips, motioning for you to open your mouth as he did so. And only when you started to suck and lick those delightfully long digits clean did he continue.

"You promise? Babe, I know your body better than you do because you belong to me. I know what you look like, what you feel like, when you're close and that," he slowly pulled his fingers from your mouth, "was it. Did you really think you could lie to me about that?"

Seeing you get flustered and unsure of how to respond, Ariel chuckled and leaned back a beat and offered a small and merciful compromise that you were all too eager to take.

“You know what, I’m feeling really nice today,” Ariel began, feigning thought for a few seconds before continuing, “so if you tell me who you belong to, then I’ll let you cum. How does that sound?”

And that was all it took for you to call out his name, your voice loud enough to startle even you and thick with need — repeating the syllables of his name over and over again like something of a prayer (and contributing to his rapidly ballooning ego in the process).

————

That seemed to be just enough to sate him as he smirked and praised you for being such a good girl before roughly gripping your hips and forcing you to turn around and brace yourself against the wall with your bare hands. Then, with no hesitation, he swiftly unbuckled his belt and freed his throbbing cock from its restraints, pumping it a few times before sharply thrusting forwards and bottoming out inside your waiting pussy with a single thrust.

Giving you barely any time to adjust, and seemingly not able to restrain himself for any longer, Ariel immediately began moving, moaning and groaning at the way your gushing sex greedily swallowed his dick with each thrust. He moved slowly at first, taking the time to admire the sight of you taking his thick length from root to tip as you whorishly moaned and whimpered at the sensation of being so painfully full with each and every movement — your voices soon overshadowed by the lewd, slick sound of him fucking your eager, dripping hole.

Then, once he grew tired of this leisurely pace, he began to speed up, both hands harshly grasping your waist as he roughly pounded into you — taking you with all the harshness and passion you’d come to appreciate from him. You could feel the tip of his cock colliding with your g-spot over and over again as he continued to abuse your sensitive pussy, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to complain as the mixture of pain and pleasure continued to fog your mind, leaving you only with your desire for Ariel. For everything you knew he could — and would — give you and more even still.

An addiction to him: his body, his voice, his cock. An addiction you’d never want to be rid of, riding the high of his possessiveness and passion for as long as he’d have you.

Completely and utterly his; exactly which he wanted.

Your running commentary on how fucking amazing he felt (which you didn’t even realise was being spoken beyond your own thoughts) was only given pause when Ariel reached up and wrapped a hand around your throat. With thumb on your thrumming pulse and those fingers crossing over your windpipe, you were completely at his mercy — and it made everything that much more exciting, more dangerous, more vulnerable.

With every squeeze of his hand you grew more lightheaded, your mind grew fuzzier, and you could feel yourself quickly approaching your climax. Everything was so much brighter, more sensitive — you’d never felt more alive as you did when your life was entirely in his hands, and he knew it. Loved it. Abused it.

He knew that you were close, could feel your cunt spasming and tightening around his dick — getting tighter, tighter, wetter and wetter as he struggled to keep up his quick pace, faltering slightly in the face of his own peak. Yet still he focused on you, leaning in close enough that you could feel his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he spoke, voice low and authoritative as he talked you through your end with pure sex and filth on the tip of his tongue — and two fingers reaching around your waist to circle your clit as you came.

Though you could hardly make out much through the sheer intensity and disorientation of your climax as you soaked his cock, fingers and your panties beneath you.

“That’s it, good girl,”

“That’s it babe, let it all go,”

“You can trust me,”

“Let me feel you cum, pretty girl,”

“You’re so fucking tight, babe,”

“God you sound so hot,”

You couldn’t help but throw your head back and cry out for him as wave after wave of overwhelming pleasure washed over you, drowned you, suffocated you as you leaned back against — collapsed into — Ariel. Your jealous lover, your sturdy lifeline, your constant that kept you grounded and standing as your bones turned to liquid beneath your skin and your heart morphed into a mad hummingbird in your chest. Even as your vision grew white with the intensity of climax and your lungs burned from crying out his name and praise without pause, you still sought him out — grasping behind you to cling to his shirt and revelling in the warmth that came as he filled you with his own release.

Revelling in the feeling of being so completely full of him, his adoration his possession, that you couldn’t help but keep loving in tandem with him as you rocked your way through your combined ends together. Lost in a world of your own making where nothing else mattered, nothing else existed, beyond your pleasure and one another — alone together and overstimulated yet unwilling to part. Not yet.

————

For a short while, the two of you stayed like that; joint at the centre with him filling you entirely, the remnants of your union slowly oozing out of the seam between your aching cunt and his softening cock. The only sounds between you were your gradually slowing breaths and the thrum of your calming heartbeat in your ears (and the lull of his own as it thudded against your back). Blissful near silence. The afterglow.

Until Ariel eventually shifted, moving one hand (still dripping with your slick) to grip your waist whilst the other moves to grasp your chin, tugging your face to one side so he could plant a rough, passionate kiss against your swollen lips. It was so very messy and emotional, so perfectly Ariel, that you couldn’t bring yourself to complain even as the position sent him deeper into your core and caused your body to erupt in a new wave of dull and sharp pains.

But all of that pain was worth it as he pulled away just enough to whisper a final bit of possessive praise against your skin, his face lit up in a grin so very typical of him as he spoke, and you felt so truly adored.

“My good girl.”

And then you felt him move away and slowly pull out of you, leaving you with a pressing feeling of emptiness and cold (a lack of him) and a growing realisation that you needed to redress. To somehow piece back together the clothes that Ariel had carelessly torn and tugged and stretched in his lustful haze to take you — which, granted, was something you had more experience in than you’d like to admit.

After all, Ariel Conroy was a jealous man and you wouldn’t have him any other way. Even if it would be nice to not have to do the walk of shame to his car every couple of week…

[sleepingdeath-bboys]

sanctuary ; 18+

pairing ; jamie winton x female!reader

requested by ; anonymous

word count ; 2544

warnings ; unprotected sex, slightly dominant jamie (verrrrry slight), porn with minimal plot

note ; similarly not 100% on my characterisation of jamie so will probably edit or rewrite this at some point

read also on ; ao3 | wattpad

Peace, for most people, can mean many different things — a veritable baker's dozen definitions each affixed with their own exceptions and caveats that change from person to person. One man's peace could be another man's struggle and strain, and vice versa.

For some, peace was synonymous with a warm cup of cocoa on a cold day. When you're nice and dry in oversized clothes by the iced over window as rain pitter-patters against the glass — half open or entirely closed — with a half-read, dog-eared book to your side and the real world in full view. A day off; a holiday; a blissful autumn or mid winter morning.

For others, peace meant a hike in the wilderness with your best friends and fields of luscious green sprawling out for miles in every direction. It meant breathless inclines and cold cooked meals sat overlooking a remarkable view you'd be damned if you didn't capture by photo or by painting. A hill; a cliff side; a national park where you're both alone and in good company.

For others still, peace was company where you're never able to catch your breath between each round of laughter and jokes and drinking. Where you have loved one's on either side all huddled so close together that you're sure that you'll end up melting into one another by the end of the evening, always finding something or even nothing to talk about. Close friends; family; a conversation that never ends until it does and you all go home feeling fuller despite having had nothing to eat.

For you, though, peace was Jamie, your boyfriend of just over a year. It was quiet nights in after hectic days out where you could just lay in each other’s arms and let the rest of the world fade away as you bask in the warmth he so freely gave you. Baggy red hoodies; eggs on toast; shy, almost awkward smiles that are shared between nervous laughter as you make love for the hundredth time with all the messiness and laughter of teenagers.

And never had there been a moment where you craved his touch so severely as today — as you stumbled through the doorway with hair sticking out every which way and your work clothes thoroughly creased and ruffled. As you kicked off your heels to some random corner of the entryway (an action you’d be sure to regret in the morning yet couldn’t find it in yourself to care) and slung your coat lazily on its hook you found yourself calling out for him, eyes scanning the living room and what you could see of the kitchen in a desperate attempt to seek out a sanctuary from your, quite frankly horrid, work day.

————

When you finally got a response, you hurriedly emptied your pockets of your keys and whatever random junk you’d happened to pick up that day, before rushing towards the kitchen to greet your beloved boyfriend. Though thankfully for you, you didn’t need to make the full trip as Jamie quickly emerged and met you half way, still drying his hands on a raggedy old tea towel when you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a much needed kiss — which he, of course, was quick to reciprocate whilst trying to not wet your clothes with his hands.

“I missed you,” you finally said after you broke away, leaning forwards to nuzzle you nose against his, “today was bloody awful, Jamie.”

“I know the feeling,” he responded quietly, kissing the bridge of your nose before resting his forehead against yours, “my day felt like it was going to go own forever.”

“Seems the universe is plotting against us again, huh?” You joked, giggling when you noticed a small smile worming its way onto your love’s face.

“Seems so,” he joked in kind, pulling back just enough to press another chaste kiss to your lips before moving further back, “I’ll be back in a moment; just gonna go put this tea towel away.”

“Sure thing, love.”

And then a wonderful idea popped into your head, one that you were more than certain Jamie would be happy to partake in. Stress relief of the best kind, and all you needed to do was wait a few short seconds.

————

The moment Jamie re-entered the sitting room, you loosely wrapped your arms around his neck and started lightly toying with the hair on the back of his neck, smiling brightly when he rested his hands on your waist and started drawing circles on your hips with his thumbs.

“I missed you today,” you began almost coquettishly, looking up at him through your eyelashes as his cheeks flushed with the suggestion of your tone, “everything was so terrible I just couldn’t wait to get home and see you, Jamie.”

“I-I,” he cleared his throat and started again in a much more certain tone, punctuating his statement by chastely kissing the tip of your nose, “I missed you too, love; I always miss you when I’m at work. You know that, right?”

“Of course I do!” You leaned back with feigned, exaggerated shock, placing a hand over your heart in mock-hurt, “Quite frankly, dear, I’m offended at the mere suggestion!”

Jamie laughed and gently shook his head, catching on to your game somewhat as he continued, “My apologies; will you let me make it up to you?”

You leaned towards him and tilted your head in faux-confusion, a smile teasing at the edge of your lips as you felt your precious stresses beginning to melt away bit by bit. “And how would you suggest you should do that?”

“Bedroom?” He asked with a cheeky grin on his face, cheeks flushed a slightly deeper shade than before.

“I thought you’d never ask!” You teased, moving to chastely kiss him on the lips before you both hurried up the stairs and into your shared room with all the eagerness of teenagers on a time crunch.

————

You removed each other’s clothes in a desperate flurry of flailing limbs and flying fabric sent to varying nooks and crannies about your room in creased balls of buttons and zips and pockets that weren’t as empty as they should have been. First jackets and ties and shirts and trousers then your underwear was sent careening onto the desk on the bedroom’s far side — a mixture of colours, including Jamie’s pink boxers, that contrasted heavily with the plain wooden surface they landed on as you tripped over yourselves and each other in your mad scramble to undress. It was truly its own brand of chaotic, but in the most wonderful of ways as it allowed you to get exactly what you wanted as quickly as possible.

Jamie’s hands once again landed on your hips, lightly massaging their way up your sides and back down again in a soothing rhythm as your own hands tangled in his hair and tugged him towards you and into a passionate kiss. Tongues met messily and teeth met lips in a not-entirely-unpleasant way as you walked him backwards towards your bed and carefully straddled his lap, only breaking the kiss for a brief moment as Jamie laid back completely and began ushering you up his body.

Seemingly sensing your hesitation, Jamie pulled back and gave you that shy smile of his as he assured you that it’s fine and he wanted to please you — that he can wait. All but silencing the protests threatening to spill from your lips with a single phrase before repositioning you to sit on his face.

“I can wait a few minutes; you look more stressed than I do and I just really want to make you feel good right now. Okay?”

And how could you say no when those beautiful brown eyes were looking up at you from between your thighs as if you were the most beautiful thing in creation. As if you were Aphrodite herself.

So, with waning reluctance, you carefully moved yourself over him and began slowly lowering yourself onto his mouth, assured when his hands moved down to your thighs to catch you and as he gave you another one of his beautiful, loving smiles. Damn him and his want to please you — but you couldn’t really complain too much in the end; you were still benefitting from it, after all.

————

Once you were a comfortable and close few millimetres from his mouth, Jamie parted his lips and licked a long stripe along your slit with the very tip of his tongue, seemingly testing the waters and being spurred on by the low groan that escaped you. Then, much more confident, he began to lick you in a decently quick pace; alternating between long stripes with the flat of his tongue and using the very tip to trace circles and figure eights on your sensitive bud. Every movement, every ministration, seemed perfectly designed to have you keening and arching your back from touch alone — yet the sheepish messiness and occasional breakaways to press chaste kisses to the insides of your thighs was entirely Jamie.

A delightful mixture of your love’s affection and his drive to please you sent you spiralling into yourself as the coil within your abdomen wound tighter and tighter at the thought.

Oh and lord the sight of him! Those beautiful, wide brown eyes peering up at you from between your thighs, irises sparking with the purest adoration and affection as he diligently delivered you with his mouth. As he whispered the sweetest praise against your sex and kissed each inch of plush skin in his reach whenever he broke for breath. Beautiful; devoted; loving and above all so very much himself throughout.

But you were completely lost the moment he removed one hand from your thigh and introduced a few of those long, slender fingers into the thick of things. First one, then two and even three plunging into your dripping pussy and fingering, scissoring, crooking into your sweet-spot over and over again in time with the gentle suckling on your clit. It was a dangerous, addictive rhythm that had you grinding onto his tongue and burying your fingers in his soft hair and crying out his name as you fell over the edge for the first time.

White vision; white noise; white static tingling across your body as you praised him and prayed for more — prayed to him like a messiah or prophet as you came. Thinking of nothing and of him at the same time as he lovingly guided you through your climax before carefully, gently, laid you on your back in the centre of the bed and positioned himself between your open legs, waiting eagerly for your go ahead.

————

After a good minute or so you finally came to and reached out for Jamie, pressing a series of chaste kisses about his face and revelling in the closeness your position provided. You started with his forehead, then travelled down the bridge of his nose and then to his lips before moving up again to his cheeks, then his eyelids until, finally satisfied, you pulled back and grinned at him. And, unable to not notice your boyfriend’s now notably dishevelled appearance, you giggled lightly and pulled him into a more passionate kiss, muttering your insistence that he fuck you against his lips.

And, for his part, Jamie immediately complied — not breaking the kiss as he lifted your legs to wrap around his waist and slowly, carefully pushed himself inside of you. Inch by inch by inch you could feel him stretching you out — to the brink, even — but you always felt the stretch. The delicious mixture of pain and pleasure that promised pure bliss in the moment and those delightful aches the morning after that Jamie would surely apologise for no matter how many times you assured him you enjoyed it.

But for as large as Jamie is (and for as much of a bulge there is when he’s inside of you), he’s always so terribly considerate and gentle with you; treating you as if you were made from a delicate porcelain or glass. He’ll cling to you tightly, kissing you as if you’ll disappear the moment he lets go, but every thrust into your soaked pussy is so slow and gentle — so concerned for your well-being, at least towards the start.

Once he’s certain you’ve adjusted (and after you’ve downright begged him to move), he’ll start slowly and shallowly thrusting into you, never fully pulling out but doing enough that you can hear the distinctly wet sound of him taking you. In and out; a few inches at a time. Enough to feel something but not enough of him to sate you.

So you start begging, assuring him that you can take him, promising him it won’t hurt in murmurs against his lips that he greedily swallows along with your plentiful moans and groans and whimpers and sighs.

“Please, please, please, please —”

“Jamie, honey, please,”

“I can take it, please”

“Honey please just go faster it won’t hurt me, I promise,”

With every beg and plea Jamie’s resistance wanes a bit more until he’s fully compliant and starts giving you his all, thrusting a little harder and plenty deeper with each stroke. You can feel every thick inch of his dick as it stretches your walls and every thrust sends the head colliding straight into your g-spot — a perfect accident that has you seeing stars before long.

You’re digging your nails into Jamie’s back by now and your ferocity is sure to have left a mark, but if he cares he doesn’t voice it — only able to let out a string of sighs and moans and groans that sound vaguely like your name. All of which you swallow into the kiss as he does for you, too preoccupied with your own approaching climax to do anything but cling to him and buck back into his hips.

Only able to think of him, praise him, devour him, become one with him as your stresses, once so palpable and painful, bleed and rot away into a faint memory — a distance almost concern — and only Jamie is left. Only this moment, this pleasure that’s boiling your blood and sending your heart and lungs into a mad rush. That has your vision blazing white at the edges through closed eyelids and your cunt throbbing madly around Jamie’s overly sensitive cock — as his pace falters.

As you fall over the edge again, this time with him, clinging to each other as your senses come alight and your bodies feel as if they’re floating. As your lips move on their own to spell each other’s names with a reverence reserved for gods and your mixed essences flow out of you and onto the bedsheets below.

A problem you don’t care to comprehend as you pull each other close — closer — and bask in the oversensitive afterglow of your love. In love and in lust and free all in one breath — a breath you greedily take the moment you break the kiss and look at each other with tired eyes that hold more love than there are stars in the sky.

No more stress, no more exhaustion, just each other and this moment and it is perfect.

[sleepingdeath-bboys]

a necessary evil ; 18+

pairing ; ariel conroy x female!reader

requested by ; anonymous

tag list ; @jamiewintons | @pink-booty-butts

word count ; 1920

warnings ; unprotected sex, light bondage, cockwarming, pussy spanking, ass spanking, nipple clamps, gagging, orgasm denial, degradation, mean dom!ariel, biting, dark!ariel, potentially ooc dialogue

read also on ; ao3 | wattpad

Considering everything that he'd been through, Ariel Conroy was incredibly lenient when it came to anything and everything regarding you. Any mistakes (major or minor) would be brushed off and fixed without any real fuss, messed would be cleaned up and insecurities would be addressed with all of the intensity and sensitivity that you could hope for. Hell, you could get away with anything up to and including murder when it came to your boyfriend for how forgiving he was.

He was so lenient that he only had one rule for you to follow; one small ask that should have taken nothing to follow for all of the hurdles he'd leapt over for you. A tiny favour that he seemed to have channeled all of his strictness into.

You weren't to touch yourself without his expressed approval.

No ifs, ands, or buts about it; your pleasure was his to own and dictate and should only be experienced by you at his discretion.

And you'd done well to abide by that singular restriction... for the first few months of your relationship, at least. You'd coped well with your need for pleasure, for release, by seeking out Ariel in person or by phone to get either his direct attentions or his permission to take care of yourself if he was too busy.

But then his workload got much larger and he stopped coming up to your shared bedroom at night. He'd taken to napping for painfully brief periods at his desk, always dismissing you when you came looking for him and shushing any complaints you had about his unintentional neglect. Making promises of “later” and “not now” and that he’d take care of you when he got the time; promises he’d been yet to keep. Promises that he’d broken time and time again over the past few weeks.

A woman can only last so long before she breaks — and break you did; giving into those painful lingering urges after what felt like the thousandth denial from your previously attentive lover. And for as wrong as you knew it was, it felt too right — too good — to stop.

————

Whilst your hands never felt quite as good as his — lacking all of the length and callouses that define his fingers — any sensation was galaxies better than none and you were more than eager to look past your limitations for the sake of maintaining some shred of sanity. You alternated between toying with your clit and fingering yourself, sliding one then two then three fingers into your sensitive centre and crooking, scissoring and thrusting to your heart’s content. Seeking out your g-spot and edging yourself ever closer to your tantalisingly looming release.

Every circle of your fingertips against that swollen bud, every slide along your soaked slit, clouded your mind further and further as the world around you faded away bit by bit. Bleeding into the fuzzy whiteness that outlined the edges of your vision — that crept closer and closer to swallowing your sight entirely the closer you got to release. Until all that was left was the feeling of your cool hands on your heated skin. Until all that was left was you and your hands and your pleasure.

Until you were so far gone that you didn’t realise you had company, didn’t respond when called as you’d been trained to. Until you were stopped in your tracks by a strong, large hand wrapping around your wrist, pausing you mid-movement, snapping you out of your trance.

Snapping your eyes open to meet the disappointed, disdainful, dark eyes of your boyfriend. Those soft lips that were quirked downwards in a dangerous tilt that had your mouth feeling dry and your tongue heavy with the weight of the consequences you were sure to face. Those dark irises, perfect unreadable pools that were so easy to lose yourself in, flitting in a wordless warning between your exposed sex and your guilt-ridden expression.

He didn’t even need to say it. You already knew you’d made a grave mistake.

And you mentally prepared yourself to face whatever surely fitting punishment he had in mind for you.

————

By the time Ariel was done, you felt so utterly vulnerable and helpless yet you couldn’t find it in yourself to object or complain: your hands were tied tightly behind your back, bound at the wrist with a thick leather strap adorned with metal buckles, taut enough to hold you in place but not enough to cause you too much pain or strain on its own; your nipples, forced to hardness by his talented touch, were adorned with cold metallic clamps, themselves linked together with a delicate silver chain that brushed against your chest with every breath — leaving an expanding patch of gooseflesh in its wake; your mouth was forced open by a ball gag that muffled every moan and whine you let out at the treatment of your body, forcing the edges of your mouth to leak thin trails of saliva you were unable to swallow.

And that’s not to neglect the stinging red marks that freshly adorned your ass — a gift and warning from your boyfriend. Ten sharp smacks to each cheek. No seconds of relief between consecutive strikes. The only soothing you received was the light, brief rubbing of his large palms against your backside as he mockingly cooed at you, shushing you as you teared up and almost praising you for accepting your punishment.

“This is your own fault, babe,” he murmured with faux kindness, pressing his lips against the shell of your ear just barely biting back a sadistic smile as he spoke, “this wouldn’t have happened if you’d followed the rules,”

And you knew it.

You knew it was your fault, of course you did, so you tearfully nodded and leaned into the sole gentle touch he placed against your cheek before allowing him to fully manoeuvre you into whatever position he had in mind.

Large hands, calloused and unusually cold, grasped at your hips and hoisted you up and onto his lap — having you face away from him as he forced your gushing cunt down onto his throbbing cock in a single, fluid movement. An action that flooded your veins with an intoxicatingly familiar mixture of pleasure and pain that overwhelmed your senses and had tears prickling at the edges of your eyes as you tried desperately to behave. To adjust to the stretch. To still. To do whatever it was he wanted.

But then he just stopped. Stopped moving. Stopping groping. Just stopped everything and held you in that tight grip you were all too familiar with — one that always promised to leave bruises behind in the romantic signature of his fingerprints.

And, unable to do anything else, you sat in anxious silence and just waited — breath held and heart racing as you listened intently for any sort of instruction.

Anything to tell you what he had in mind… if only he would be so generous; which he had no intentions of being during such a severe punishment.

————

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” Ariel prodded after a few minutes of silence, reaching around to tug at the chain hanging from your chest (smirking when you arched your chest up into his hand at the rough motion). “You were so desperate for my attention… and now you’ve got it. Isn’t that exactly what you were going for?”

Knowing that you were unable to respond, Ariel only chuckled to himself and forced your legs further apart as you straddled him.

“This didn’t need to happen, you know that right babe?”

He hummed approvingly when you nodded before sharply reeling his hand back and spanking you directly on the pussy — holding you in place with his other hand so you couldn’t squirm away.

“If you weren’t such a needy bitch,” another slap to your sensitive sex, “then maybe you could have got what you wanted. But no,” another, “you just had to go and break the one,” slap, “fucking,” slap, “rule I put in place.”

He paused and forced your head to the side so you were able to look at him properly, staring into your tearful eyes with a combination of mirth and disappointment that made your stomach churn.

“Do you think I enjoy punishing you? Do you think I wanted this?” You tried to shake your head and let out an unintelligible vocalisation that was mangled by the gag, and he sighed. “Well that doesn’t matter does it? Rules need to be followed and since you were so impolite, you need to be taught otherwise.”

And then he continued, alternating between roughly spanking your pussy and pleasuring you with those long fingers of his. Fingering, circling and hitting. Pain and pleasure. Slow burn and raging inferno. Punishment and reward.

A contradictory confusing mess of sensations that left your head spinning and your senses completely on fire. Part of you kept flinching away from his endless chaotic onslaught yet another, baser, part of you leaned into it — craved it; craved him, his touch, violence and all. Yet still his expert touch was slowly guiding you towards your peak and you couldn’t help but collapse back into him as that familiar wanton heat started pulsing through your veins like blood.

The pain that set your nerves alight and had your heart racing with adrenaline combined with the tantalising, tempting intoxication of pleasure came together to form an addictive sensation that felt closer to nirvana than punishment. And as your climax approached, Ariel’s voice began to fade more and more until it almost felt as if your head was underwater — submerged in the sensation of him. Drowning in it behind your gag.

Every “whore” and “cum slut” and “needy bitch” that left his lips fell on deaf ears as you continued climbing up to the precipice of release. Guided only by his loving, hateful hands and the feeling of his lips against the juncture of your neck.

Closer and closer until you could practically taste the bliss of the high you’d been aching for for so long — until it all came crashing down.

Until it all suddenly stopped and your pleasure was washed away by another wave of white hot pain that had you practically screaming into the ball gag. Until the spanking was replaced with a sharp pull on your clamps that had you falling forwards. Until Ariel’s teeth sank into your delicate flesh and drew blood, tearing you away from the peak and sending you reeling into a cycle of shock and pain.

Until you were suddenly flipped onto your stomach on the bed as your boyfriend reentered you and you could feel his hands pressing against your shoulder blades. Holding you down; forcing you down against the bed without the option or desire to move as he started to thrust in and out of you at a pace that was so painfully fast and deep yet offered enough attention to have your eyes rolling back into your head. When the only explanation you were offered was a promise (itself said in a voice oozing with authority and need) that had your cunt throbbing with need and your mind racing with anticipation for what was sure to become one of the longest nights of your life.

“Tonight’s only just begun, babe. Now that I’m here, you get to show me just how desperate you are for my attention… and if you do a good enough job as my fuck toy then I might just let you cum,”

[sleepingdeath-bboys]

valentine’s day hcs ; 18+

pairing ; ariel conroy x gender neutral!reader

tag list ; @jamiewintons | @pink-booty-butts

summary ; a series of headcanons describing how ariel conroy would spend valentine’s day with his partner

ariel is the type of boyfriend that will completely and utterly spoil you on a good day — but on a holiday based around spoiling your partner? well that trait of his gets cranked up well beyond eleven

he’s covering you in beautiful jewellery and clothing and other accessories that cost more than the flat he’d stolen you from — all courtesy of his job, of course — and he’ll insist on having you wear everything in front of him

a private fashion show; his eyes only

then, the gentleman he is, he’ll make you both your favourite meal (one you hadn’t had since being moved out of the basement) and he’ll spent most of the time just watching you eat it with a content smile on his face

spends the entire day showering you in compliments until you get to the afternoon and he gives you two more boxes — which you quickly realise contain your gift to him

white lacy lingerie with plenty of straps for him to pull on, and a complete set of sex toys including whips and gags amongst some more exotic gadgets that you couldn’t quite identify

things that would hurt and penetrate and vibrate and suck and leave you completely and utterly at mercy to your kidnapper loving boyfriend

which was exactly what he wanted

and it wasn’t like you could say no to him (or that you really wanted to), not after how much he’d done for you and to you

so you’d do exactly what he wanted, baring yourself to him to do what he wished and preparing yourself for the longest and most exhausting night of your life

one filled with overstimulated orgasm after hours of edging and teasing

filled with the filthiest degradation and the most earnest of praise

filled with devices that filled you to the brim; prepping you for his throbbing cock and destroying you in tandem with him

filled with his lips and hands caressing and abusing your body — moulding you like you were a clay sculpture he was yet to complete

filled with slaps and whips and hits and bites that branded you with a signal rather than a signature — not that you ever doubted your belonging to him, nor that he was above outright carving his name into your skin

a night filled with fun and bliss and climax and mess that you never truly wanted to end — and that, for ariel, was only the beginning of a lifetime of debauchery he had planned for you

[otaku-girl-ao3]

Darling Boy - Chapter 1

"You took something that belongs to me, Mister Conroy. And I shall have you repay that debt. One way or another."

Ariel thought that he was just hacking funds from another wealthy nobody. Too bad that Felix doesn’t take kindly to having his money stolen. Luckily for Ariel, there are other methods of repayment that he is willing to accept.

The Wonka x You, Me and The Apocolypse (crossover) that nobody asked for and like maybe two people will ever read 😂 (Please note: This is primarily set in the Wonka-verse, so you can read Ariel as an OC if you are unfamiliar with YMATA).

Title: Darling Boy Chapters: 1 of 14 Fandom: Wonka (2023), You Me and the Apocolypse (2015) Rating: Explicit Pairings: Felix Fickelgruber x Ariel Conroy

Author's notes: PLEASE read the tags on AO3 <3

I had to get this brainworm started. I couldn't resist.

[jamiewintons]

Ready & Waiting (Ariel Conroy/F!Reader)

Summary: Ariel decides to have his way with you, by lacing your food with sleeping pills and sneaking back into your flat once you’ve fallen asleep.

Tags/Warnings: Smut (18+ ONLY). Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. Noncon. Somnophilia. Stalking. Non-Consensual Drugging. Fingering. Oral Sex (F!Receiving). Unprotected Sex.

A/N: Please don't read this if it's going to make you uncomfortable. Since it's a dead dove fic, I'll just tag the people I know are okay with this stuff - @pink-booty-butts, @demontoucansam, @thingses-and-stuffses.

Word Count: 1930

*

Tonight was the night, and Ariel was bouncing his leg up and down in anticipation as he watched you on his laptop. He was waiting in your neighbours’ flat - they were away on holidays, so Ariel didn’t have to worry about being disturbed - for you to go to bed, so he could finally have his fun.

Ariel had been in your flat earlier that evening, fixing your computer that had once again broken down. It was strange how that kept happening; almost as if a certain someone was intentionally infecting it with viruses so he would have an excuse to get inside your home. After he was done, you’d bashfully asked him if he wanted to stay for dinner, an offer he initially accepted as a way to get access to your food - he really did wish he could stay there with you - but at the last minute had to make up an emergency that he needed to attend to right that very moment. Something about his mother’s cat being ill and having to take it to the vet.

However, what had actually happened was Ariel discretely lacing your homemade lasagna with sleeping pills when you left the room for a few moments - ones that wouldn’t knock you out right away, but would lull you into a deep slumber a few hours after you’d ingested them. To remove suspicion from himself in case you suspected anything the next morning, he thought it best that he leave your flat before you fell asleep.

That’s why he was currently waiting out those couple of hours in your neighbours’ empty flat, staring at you through the multiple cameras he’d secretly installed around your house. Oh, Ariel had seen some wonderful things thanks to those little cameras - your wet naked body as you emerged from the shower, you lounging around in your underwear on days off when you were feeling a little lazy, and best of all, you touching yourself until you came all over your hand (something that he couldn’t help but do in tandem with you) - and once again they were proving useful.  The time seemed to pass like it was nothing at all, though he ached to finally make you his.

It was somewhere after ten pm when you stumbled into your room and practically collapsed on your bed, your arms wrapped around one of your pillows. You were out like a light a few seconds later, and Ariel knew that it was now time to strike. Far too excited for his own good, he packed up his laptop and and left the empty flat.

When he reached your door, Ariel found that in your dazed state, you’d left it unlocked - meaning the key he’d had made wasn’t needed. He made sure to lock the door after entering, however, he didn’t want anyone who meant to cause you harm finding their way inside. As quietly as he could he walked to your bedroom, pushing open your already ajar door. And there you were laying on the bed, illuminated by the light you’d left on in the hallway before going to bed.

Ariel’s eyes raked down the sight before him appreciatively. You were laying on your side, your arms wrapped loosely around one of your pillows. The positioning of your legs caused the old t-shirt you were wearing to ride up, exposing the cute panties you had on underneath. Returning to your face, you looked so peaceful and innocent as you slept, so pretty. Ariel felt his cock twitch in his jeans, and approached the bed. When you were dressed like that, how was he expected to resist?

Kneeling down on the bed in front of you, Ariel took care to reposition you; taking the pillow from your grasp and rolling you onto your back. After he moved you, his hand came to stroke your thigh, and seemingly on instinct you sleepily parted your legs, opening yourself up to him like you knew what he wanted - and you wanted it too.

Ariel’s cock twitched again at the sight of you, so vulnerable and pliant, just for him. His mind raced with all the things he wanted to do to you when you were like this, but he decided to keep things simple tonight. He could always do this again, a thought that excited him like no other.

He started off by rubbing your clit gently through the fabric of your panties, making you whimper and squirm in your sleep. Ariel wondered to himself whether his touch would cause you to have nice dreams. If it did, he hoped they were about him. Ariel only did this for about a minute, before he ached to see you for real, and so he slipped your panties down your legs - he considered putting them in his pocket and taking them as a souvenir of your time together, but decided against it.

Ariel groaned lowly at the sight of your pussy revealed to him, so pretty and already glistening with slick, just from a few light touches. Though it wasn’t something he usually enjoyed doing, he felt the urge to duck his head down and taste you right from your core, and since there was no one here who could stop him, he decided to do just that.

You let out more cute little whimpers as Ariel’s tongue worked on your cunt - pushing inside your entrance to taste you before moving to tease your clit and then circling back - spreading your legs further even while unconscious. Once his tongue returned to your clit, he decided to slip a finger into your soaked pussy, moaning at how tight you squeezed around that single digit. The next few minutes were dedicated to using his fingers to stretch you out, to prepare you for the main event. Ariel didn’t want to hurt you, after all.

“It’s going to be a tight fit, babe,” Ariel told you, though you were unable to hear him, as he withdrew the three fingers he was finally able to fit inside. “But you’re a good girl, I know you’ll be able to take it for me, won’t you?” He punctuated this praise with a quick kiss to the inside of your thigh, before sitting up and beginning to unbuckle his jeans.

Ariel wasted no time in pulling his jeans and boxers down to free his hard, leaking cock to the cool night air of your bedroom. His hand came to wrap around his length, pumping himself a few times as his eyes fixated on your dripping entrance. This was something he’d been waiting for, dreaming about, for so long, and now it was finally going to happen. He felt a little nervous, almost like he had back when he was a teenager just before his first time. But just like then, Ariel’s excitement overode any anxiety, and knew that it was best to get straight to it.

Lifting up your hips, Ariel pushed forward to sheath himself inside of you. He’d been correct, you felt unbelievably tight, even with how wet you were. But he took it slowly, making sure that you’d take every single inch of him. You whined brokenly, reacting to him stretching you out, even in your sleep. It felt like an eternity to him, but eventually he was bottomed out inside of you, feeling your warmth wrapped around him. Ariel’s hips stuttered against yours, finding it near impossible to hold back.

And so, he didn’t. Ariel’s hands came to your thighs, pushing them even further apart as he started thrusting slow but hard. His pace didn’t stay slow for long, and soon enough the bed was shaking with the intensity of his thrusts as he fucked your unconscious body into the matress.

He took your wrists in his one of his hands, pinning them above your head, even if he didn’t need to. His other hand grabbed at your hip, digging his fingernails into the plush flesh. The only sounds in the room were those of Ariel’s laboured breaths and moans, his skin connecting with yours, and your occasional quiet whimpers and whines.

Suddenly, you stirred. Your eyes moved, almost as if they were about to open. Ariel noticed this, but you felt far too good, and he wasn’t able to keep himself from continuing to fuck you. If you happened to wake up right now, everything would be ruined. He’d be caught, you’d probably call the cops and he’d have to escape before he could get caught. But it’d be hot, wouldn’t it? If your eyes fluttered open as he took you, the look of realisation dawning on your face?

Would you try to scream, forcing Ariel to clasp his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet as he kept going until he was finished? Or would you moan contentedly, willingly giving yourself over to him and allowing him to use your body as he saw fit?

However it didn’t matter in the end, because you thankfully stayed asleep, pliable beneath Ariel’s body. His moans grew louder as his thrusts got quicker and quicker, knowing that he was getting closer to the edge. But he needed you to come too, to feel your cunt squeezing around him as he fucked you through your climax. To know that he was making you feel good, even though you didn’t know it was him doing it.

Ariel’s hand moved to your clit, beginning to rub it in rough circles, making you sleepily buck up against him. Your sleepy, mumbled noises became more frequent until the pleasure finally overtook you, making you cry out while Ariel struggled to keep himself together as you fluttered around his cock, pulling him deeper inside if that were possible.

Then he fell over the edge too. Loud moans were torn from him as his thrusts became impossibly rough, filling you up with his cum. He knew that he should have pulled out, that he shouldn’t leave such incriminating evidence behind, but he couldn’t help it. Besides, the thought that a piece of him would be staying there with you - inside of you - was very appealing to him. It made him want to do this over and over again.

Regrettably, Ariel had to eventually pull out of you, and he watched with interest as some of his cum leaked from your spent entrance. God, you looked so good like that, and he wait til he finally got to see you like this while conscious. Not wanting to make too much of a mess, he grabbed your discarded panties and pulled them back on you, hopefully nipping the problem in the bud.

Though your cum-filled pussy was out of Ariel’s sight, it was still on his mind. Maybe when you woke up the next morning, you’d find yourself feeling a little bit turned on, and you’d end up touching yourself with his cum still inside you?

Now Ariel knew that he needed to get home and get some rest, because he’d never forgive himself if he missed seeing that little show live. He hurridly tidied up his clothing, tucking himself back into his boxers and zipping his jeans up. 

“Tonight was wonderful, baby,” Ariel told you once he’d climbed off the bed, leaning down to press a soft kiss against your forehead. He stroked your hair, pushing some of it off your forehead, which was glistening with sweat. Just as he was about to leave you there to sleep in peace, he turned around to take in the beautiful sight of you once more. “Same time tomorrow, yeah?”