Prompt: Do you think you could do one of the Weasley boys x reader? Preferably Ron or one of the twins. There’s like no fics for them lol. Maybe smutty? Thanks ❤❤ P.S. Your writing is so hecking good !!!! (ft. Daddy kink x reader)
A/N: this is good smut, pure smut. You’re welcome. No honestly, my electricity went out while writing this. I AM SWEATING x10 right now.
Warnings: RATED M SMUT. Oral, daddy kink, dirty talk, etc.
The burrow sat empty as Y/N dangled her legs over the side of a fat brown couch. The dishes had stopped washing, the house had stopped breathing, and it seemed almost like the place had been abandoned in a way. The Weasleys had trusted her to house-sit whilst they were shopping for Ron’s and Ginny’s school supplies (as Y/N had already finished hers last week).
But perhaps the girl had gotten too comfortable when she slipped a hand under her skirt, toying with herself as heat flooded through her curvy frame. She welcomed the sensation, rolling her hips against her own hand, quietly pleasing herself. She purred as she moved her hand deftly, working at her sensitive nub
(a combination of angst, smut and fluff. You have been warned.)
… … … … … … … … . … …… … … … … … … .
Your red tartan shirt bristles behind you as you march,
furious, towards the dancing neon lights that adulterate the street ahead of
them. Kyungsoo had gone out. Again. Barley
a week after promising to become less involved in mafia business and he’d
slipped away from your shared apartment the second your back had been turned.
Your brother’s lack of sincerity hurt, but what really fuelled your rage was
the greater, heart-rendering betrayal you’d stumbled upon not an hour ago. Your
boyfriend, well, ex-boyfriend, with
his face buried between another’s woman legs. For weeks you’d suspected him of
an affair, but to have it materialized in front of you had been too much to
handle. You’d cried angry, shameful tears and stumbled home, in hopes of
finding your older brother’s comfort and warmth. Instead, the house was cold
and empty, and the nearest trace of your beloved
big brother was a scrawled apology on a ripped piece of paper.
So yeah, you were pissed. And you weren’t about to let
Kyungsoo get away with it. You knew how often he frequented this club, though
you’d never actually visited it in person before, and that it was a place his
gang would often strike deals with neighbouring groups.
You knew very little about Kyungsoo’s group, mostly because
he refused to tell you anything or ever let you meet with any of the members.
Not that you were exactly pleading for him to let you. He knew how much you
hated that part of his life – the gangs, the money, the fights. You had no idea
in what the hell he was involved in, but you knew it wasn’t even a little bit
legal. He’d come home bloodied and bruised so many times that you were coming
to be pretty handy with the makeshift doctor’s kit you kept underneath the
kitchen sink. But no matter how many times you would complain about how this
life was hurting him, he’d always simply reaffirm the same, undeniable truth –
you needed the money. At which point, your yelling would abruptly cease, as you
could offer no worthy response – he was right, you really, really needed the money.
You think however, slamming through the club’s dingy doors,
that you’re not completely clueless
about this part of Kyungsoo’s life. He’ll occasionally let slip some crucial
piece of information that you’ve built up a fairly solid background. His gang –
exo – run your area. They’re a group of 9 men and you think perhaps the leader
was.. Suho, was it? Something like that. But you know that while they’re in
control of the local area, they are not the absolute power at the front of it.
They’re one of many gangs that help control the whole of Seoul for the big
boss. That’s what you’ve taken to calling them, since Kyungsoo absolutely
refuses to disclose any clues about their identity. You’re not aware of much
else, other than that exo has had to regularly defend their territory lately,
so Kyungsoo had been coming home more bloodied and bruised than ever. It
worried you to no extent, but you knew that he would never leave his gang. Because
as much as you were his sister, they were all his brothers, and his level of
devotion to them ran deep. But he had swore
he would spend less time out on these jobs, and the clear disregard for your
wishes stung deep.
The club seems so busy that the walls themselves vibrate.
Everywhere you turn, people slam against one another with shuddering fervour,
and more than once you are jostled violently to the side. Craning your neck,
you hope to catch a glimpse of Kyungsoo’s dark hair in the crowd, but with this
many people and the twitching purple lights, it’s impossible to see. Your fists
clench as you attempt to reign in your
growing anger and, thinking you see an opening in the middle of the floor, you
push towards it.
It takes a considerable time, but eventually you manage to
squirm your way to the forefront of the crowd. In the middle of the floor, two
boys dance opposite each other, mirroring the other’s moves in a routine like
motion. Around them, the partygoers cheer ferociously and stomp their feet to
the beat of the mismatched song. You sigh irritably and scan around the room.
From this angle, you realize there is a seating area above the floor. It trails
around the room with a number of plush purple comforters at different points,
tables situated between them. You growl, realizing this is Kyungsoo’s likely
Your attention is drawn back to the boys for a moment as the
audience’s approval rears up once again in thunderous applause. You cringe
slightly, and then realize it is because the floor beneath them has opened up
and is now sprouting water, soaking their clothes.
And yes, you’re angry, very much so, but, well you know how
to appreciate a nice view, alright? You’re so lost in the fluidity of the dance
for a moment, the stark contrast of the boy’s physiques and their opposing
blonde and black hair that you fail to realize everyone around you has moved
back, and that you are a definite two paces in front of the crowd with water
sloshing at your ankles, impatient shouts ringing at your ears.
Cursing at your own mindless ogling, you try to take
advantage of the situation and glance up to see if you can better see Kyungsoo.
However, as your eyes drift upwards, they connect with the blonde boy in front
of you. His movements have paused, realizing your stance, and he seems to be
assessing you, almost. His hair, wet and tousled, bats impatiently around his
forehead, only lightly obscuring his dark eyes. The water drips untroubled down
the long bridge of his nose and puckering over his full lips, before leading a
dangerous path towards his lean and open chest. His attire, you note, leads
very little to imagine, with his white shirt soaked through and ripped open,
and his dark jeans equally distressed, clinging tight to his skin.
You snap out of your undignified gawking and clear your
throat awkwardly, realizing he is smirking at you.
You’ve never been very good at holding the gaze of people so
attractive they make your eyes hurt, so you look down immediately, blushing
darkly. You hurry to stumble back into the safety of the crowd, but just as you
begin to move, so does he. Suddenly, he seems to barrel towards you, as in,
literally right towards you so that
he is practically running at the crowd. Your eyes widen in considerable shock
and you’re hurrying to distance yourself when he leaps into the air, twisting his limbs in a stance that frankly
seems both unnatural and dangerous when-
He lands at your feet, on his knees, with his head hanging
in front of you. The crowd roars their approval and, running his hands through
his hair, he turns to look up at you, grinning this time. His boldness shocks
you, though you can’t deny how attractive the sudden confidence is. You’re on
the verge of grinning back when your eyes flick south again and realize the red
ink on his shirt. Your eyes darken as you take it in, recognizing the same mark
on Kyungsoo’s jacket at home. You know exactly
what type of mark that is.
Of course. A man lands literally on his knees in front of
you and he too, is involved in the mafia. What a blessed, blessed day.
Your interest evaporates instantly and you sigh audibly as
he stands, especially when you realize his frame dwarfs your own. He blinks
down at you, body still very, very close to your own and quirks an eyebrow at
your admittedly not very club like attire.
“Enjoy the show?” He asks, eyes crinkled in a half smile as
he leans down slightly.
You match his eyebrow quirk with your own and reaching your
hand up, flick some of the water from his performance at his face.
“I’ve seen better.”
Over his shoulder you finally catch a glimpse of your
traitorous brother, laughing loudly in a booth with a red haired man in front
of him. Your earlier feelings of anger are quickly recalled at the sight, and
glowering at the image, you shoulder roughly past the still-smirking man in
front of you and slosh loudly through the water stage. You catch the grin of
his dark haired partner as you do so, but make no effort to return such
niceties – you are much, much too angry for that.
You land in front of your brother will a dull thud, water
dripping from your jeans. He and the men around him turn to look at you in
interest, but this quickly turns into panic as Kyungsoo realizes who it is
standing, glowering in front of him.
“What the actual fuck Kyungsoo?”
He stumbles around to exit the booth and the members around
him seem shocked at your tone. If you were perhaps calmer, more in control of
your rational sense, you would perhaps note that these people around him are
the infamous exo gang and have absolutely no clue as to who or what you are, or
what you are doing.
“Y/n, calm down-“
“Don’t you dare!” You growl, snatching away from him as he
attempts to placate your flailing limbs. In the process, your hand reaches up
and strikes against his cheek, and though the men behind him make small sounds
of outcry, he only stares at you.
“You promised me, you promised-“
Your voice continues to raise as your hysteria does, and now not only him,
but the men around him reach forward to steady you.
“Little sister, you’re making a scene.” He mutters quietly,
latching onto your wrist, a slight red blossoming on his cheek.
“Little sister? D.O,
what’s going on?” From behind him a tall man asks, taking you in quietly. You
glare at him in response, and his gaze hardens.
“D.O? D.O? Is that
what they call you here?” You hiss. “Is this who you are, D.O?” You question sarcastically and his grip on your wrist
He leans toward you darkly, ignoring the questioning shouts
of the men behind him.
“This is not a place for you, y/n. Go. Home.” He punctuates his
last two words harshly, though you see the quick scan he does behind you and
realize faintly, that a small crowd has gathered to spectate. Still, unwilling
to back down, your matching dark eyes challenge his.
“Go with me.”
You realize that you have laid out a very clear and obvious
choice in front of him, and so does he. His eyes widen slightly at what you
appear to be asking of him, but you refuse to submit to the hurt that blossoms
there. He watches you for a few moments longer before sighing angrily and
releasing your wrist so abruptly that it seems to fling across the small space
between you. He backs away from you and stands in front of the men in front of
him, closer to them than he is to you.
“Who’s the girl, D.O?” Someone asks from behind you and
turning slightly, you realize a much larger crowd has gathered than you
originally expected. You turn back to your brother, your palms clenched tightly
together. He’s turned his back on you, leaning close to the tall man from
earlier, who continues to stare at you tensely.
“She’s nothing.” Kyungsoo replies simply and, looking out
across the crowd, smiles sardonically, rolling his eyes.
“As if I would associate with the likes of her.”
The crowd titters in cruel excitement behind you and hot,
angry tears spring to your eyes. You scoff in disbelief and wonder how the
situation escalated from bad, to worse.
He looks back at you once more and there’s a regretful
understanding in his eyes, an almost tug in his limbs that make it seem as
though he wants to approach you, but confirmed with a certainty that he won’t.
Overwhelmed with hurt, you turn on him and weave through the
crowd who, having just witnessed your utter humiliation seem willing to leave
room for your escape. This, small mercy you suppose you can appreciate.
Bursting out the doors of the club, you let out a sudden,
feral scream. The hinges of the doors trickle shut behind you, but you ignore
it, squatting to your knees and taking your head in your palms, willing the tears
You can’t believe Kyungsoo
would willingly treat you this way. For a long time you’d regarded your brother
as the one person in the world you felt you could rely wholly upon, who you
were sure would never break or abuse your trust the way he had only moments
ago. Your anger, while still present, is overwhelmed by the hurt of your
brother’s disloyalty and your own humiliation at his hands.
Your inner monologue is interrupted as the doors once again
swing open behind you. Initially, you take no interest in the likely drunk
trespasser, expecting them to perhaps vomit in the muddy patch across from you
before then stumbling back inside. Instead, slow, careful steps click against
the pavement next to you and, spreading your fingers slightly, you realize a
group of 3 men or so have come to gather around you.
You stop crying, and raise your head slightly. One directly
ahead of you, one at each side. Your breath comes in quick, sudden gasps but
you figure this is probably a good thing. They will not expect much of a girl
who looks afraid.
(Though, you figure it’s probably important to note that you
are very, very afraid anyway.)
A man with a dark suit, dark hair and darker eyes grins
sardonically down at you. A cigarette dangles precariously from his lips and
after a moment, he draws in a breath that seems almost laborious and crushes it
under the heel of his shoe. He makes the sudden twist of his foot seem
intimidating, and though he seems keen to maintain a supposed easy going
stance, every inch of him stands firm and calculating.
After a moment’s pause, he squats down in front of you and
pulls your hands away from your face, keeping them still in his palms. His
hands are cold.
“And who might you be?” His words are smooth and clear,
ringing out across the suddenly empty street.
Fighting hard to maintain a facade that doesn’t show how
intimidated you have become, you raise your head higher, looking him dead in
“No one to you.” Your response is casual, cool, the opposite
of what you feel in the moment.
He hums, the pressure on your wrists increasing slightly.
“No one to D.O either, apparently.”
You lose your composure for half a second, anger slipping through your eyes and he clicks his
“Ah, so sorry. Too soon?” His head tilts to side, mocking
arrogance dripping from his every feature – the twist of his lips, the slight
crinkle of his crescent eyes. Your fear is evident, but quickly overwhelmed by
the irritation this man’s presence inspires.
“Is there a point to you speaking, or is it just that no one
else wants to listen?”
The men to the side of you let out little chuckles, and he
himself seems delighted by your notable indignation.
“Awfully brave thing to say of a girl who’s hands won’t stop
shaking.” He holds up your trembling fingers as though to prove his point,
loosely combining them with his for a second.
“It’s because I don’t find you attractive. I tend to get
uncomfortable when ugly men insist of touching me.”
The men next to you really are laughing now, and though the
man in front of you smiles still, he squeezes his fingers into your own
harshly, so much so that you have to bite your lip to stop yourself from
yelping in pain.
“But you didn’t mind when Kyungsoo touched you, did you? I
bet you were loving it, his hands on you.” You attempt to back up slightly,
disgusted by what he appears to be suggesting, but he doesn’t let you,
snatching your body closer to his.
“That’s what you are isn’t it? I saw you on the floor too,
standing closer so that little brat would come grind on you or some shit. I
gotta say, you’re not very subtle about what you do, or what you are. But hey,”
He pauses, reaching his hand to roughly tug your chin up to meet his, before
letting his eyes travel slowly, leeching over your every curve and dip. He
flicks his eyes up once more, settling on the disgust that screams in yours.
“I’m certainly not complaining. I respect a girl who knows
exactly what she is – a dirty, little who-“
He doesn’t get to finish his monologue because, having heard
enough of just exactly what he perceives you to be, you lurch forward bite
harshly into the soft skin of his cheek. He yells in pain but you grind your
teeth until you feel the blood spurt up in between them. He slams his palms
against your face and the two men at your side rear you up and away from him.
Breathing heavily, you spit out the blood in your mouth onto the street.
“Bitch.” He hisses, pressing his fingers to the blood
trailing down the side of his face.
You hum in agreement and lean forward in your captors grip
slightly. “And one that would never fuck
His smiles and laughs are gone now. He takes two steps
toward you before pushing open his jacket slightly to reveal a glint of metal
against his hip.
“Maybe I ought to teach you a little les-“
The doors behind you slam open as Kyungsoo launches himself
at one of the men holding up your arms. Beside you, the tall man from earlier
does the same. And then, all at once the men you had seen sitting in the club
seem to trickle out on the street beside you,
taking up equally defensive positions.
Your arms now free, Kyungsoo takes a moment to look up from
his attacker and shift his head frantically down the side of the street.
You nod back quickly, but, turning back to the bleeding man
in front of you as he faces off with the red haired man you’d seen your brother
laughing with earlier, you can’t resist pulling the pepper spray Kyungsoo had
insisted you carry from your pocket, and unloading the contents of it on his
face. He shouts in pain as it sprays into his eyes and, satisfied, you drop the
empty can and sprint off down the street.
“Dick!” And really, as you shout it, you’re unsure who it is
you’re shouting it at.
As it turns out, you are even less athletic than you
previously thought, and that was already pretty bad. So you’re not running for
long when you slip into a small, decrepit alleyway and lean down in an attempt
to catch your breath.
Your hand is spread over your stomach and your hair bats
impatiently around your eyes when you jump at the intrusion of a rich voice
ahead of you.
“Is this how you usually spend your Friday nights?”
You turn your head slightly and notice him, still damp from
his performance as he leans against a wall and takes you in.
“Well, this is more of a Saturday night thing but, well I’ve
had a rough week.”
The corners of his lips tug in a half moon smile and he
takes a few more, easy steps toward you. You lift up your palm suddenly in an attempt
to maintain a barricade.
“Listen, I’ve really had my fill of all and any of the male
species tonight, so if you’re planning on intimidating me, d’you think we could,
you know, move it to tomorrow night or something?” You huff and he’s really
smiling now, eyes crinkling.
“But don’t you already have Saturday plans?” He asks, his
head tilting to the side.
Despite yourself, despite the overall shitty nature of today
and despite that little red inking on his shirt, you feel the laughter bubble
in your chest.
It expands until you’re heaving through the chuckles,
ignoring the tears that stream down your cheeks. You sigh, leaning back on your
heels and sliding against the wall until you’re sitting, legs propped out in
front of you. You hear him as he walks towards you and, as he comes closer, you
loll your head to the side to look up at him. He blinks down at you, smiling
gently, before he sighs loudly and slumps down next to you.
He nudges his knee against yours slightly and though you
know you should probably attempt to create some space between you, remind
yourself that not only is he a stranger, he is the worst kind of stranger, you can’t seem to muster the energy to pull
“What happened?” You sigh, drawing up your knees to rest
your head on them.
You lapse into a comfortable silence for a moment before he
mimics your position, resting his head so that you both blink at one another,
each taking the other in.
“I have a serious question.”
You steel yourself, nodding.
“Why’d you flick water in my face?”
“Maybe I was displeased with your performance.”
“No, that’s not it.” His eyes twinkle with a childish
mischief. “I saw you looking.”
You scoff, raising your head. “Looking at what?”
He raises his eyebrows, again repeating your motions. He
gestures down to himself, over his still open shirt and dark jeans. “All. Of.
You roll your eyes, but your grin does not falter.
“I was looking at the other one.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
You pause, feigning shock.
“You don’t know. I could be a terrible truth teller.”
“That’s not a thing.”
“100% a thing.”
“Doesn’t sound like a thing.”
“It’s a thing!”
His grin widens and he tilts his head further, regarding
your now ruffled exterior. After a moment’s pause, he sticks out his hand
You hesitate, eyes flickering between his hand and loopy red
handwriting barely visible in the light of the dumpster. After an awkward
pause, you figure your night can’t really get much worse than it already has
and well, he did make you laugh. You slip your hand into his gently, noticing
that it is surprisingly warm and immediately worrying that your palms are
“Y/n.” You respond, sighing.
Dropping your hand, he leans his head back against the wall
again, closing his eyes briefly. You study him as he does so, your eyes
canvassing along the general slump of his arms as they rest against his knees,
the slack in his strong jaw.
“You look tired.” You observe meekly, and his eyes flicker
open, familiar smile finding his lips once more.
“I am exhausted.”
He grunts slightly, twisting his body to face you.
“You uh, I mean, you don’t have to stay here with me, if
you’re tired.” You stumble over your words, suddenly embarrassed. “Actually,
why are you here?” You enquire, gesturing around the dimly lit alleyway.
He shrugs, and his eyes cloud over for a second.
“My friends got in a fight.” He mutters. You regard him
quietly, with not a small ounce of curiosity.
“You’re not gonna fight with them?” You enquire, and if on
cue, his phone buzzes loudly in his pocket. He barley glances over at it
before, reaching into his jacket, he flings it across the space and it lands
with a dull smack against the wall, crumbling on the cracked pavement. You do
Turning to look at you, his gaze seems much more intense,
much more sudden than his previous teasing looks. You think that you should
probably look away, that this interaction has become much more serious than
either of you intended for it to be but, always curious, you do not.
“I’m tired of fighting with them.” He mumbles, almost
meekly, as though he is ashamed of what he is saying.
“Do they know that?” You approach carefully and when his gaze
finds yours, it is light again, infused with teasing.
“They would, but unfortunately I’m a terrible truth teller.”
You snigger slightly and he responds as such, blinking at you
You exhale loudly, eyes wondering over the starless night
“My brother hurt my feelings.”
You grunt the words out forcefully, tasting them like bile in
the back of your throat. He responds gently, carefully as you had done only
“What happened?” He tries again, and you blink the tears out
of your eyes, your breath catching slightly.
“I just-“ You break away, squeezing your eyes shut tightly.
“It’s just been a shitty night.”
You feel his eyes on you as you struggle to regain your
composure, and furiously blink away the tears that so desperately want to
fall. You hear the slight shift as
movement as slowly, he leans closer to you. When you don’t pull away, he
continues to shift, until his head rests carefully on your shoulder.
The gesture is a little strange and made awkward by how much
taller he is than you. He has to shift quite far down the wall for his head to
reach your shoulder, so he is practically lying beside you. He doesn’t seem to
quite know how the rest of his body should face, because his long limbs hang
nervously by his sides, as though you will jump away at any moment.
Despite this, and all the circumstances around the uneasy
embrace, you appreciate it, and the hesitant warmth that scatters from his body
to yours. You smile gently and rest your head against his, wanting somewhat to
place your hand over his, but worrying that this will perhaps be too much. So
instead, you inch your pinkie finger towards his, until they brush gently
against the other. For a while, you both sit like this, leeching onto the other
in the bristling of the slight spring chill and each enjoying the comfort of
one another’s company.
“Thank you.” You murmur, and though he doesn’t respond, he
turns your hand over slightly so that he is tracing small, nonsensical patterns
on your palm, humming quietly as he does so.
You spend a while there with each other, until eventually the
dark night gets darker, and the chill around you becomes too insistently bitter
to ignore. You raise your head slightly and his movements on your hand cease.
He raises his head to look up at you earnestly and in that moment, in that one,
gullible moment, you make a decision.
“You wanna go get a drink?” You blurt out suddenly and he
lifts his head from your shoulder, surprised.
“A… drink?” He draws out and you nod, perhaps a little too
furiously, in an attempt to dispel some of your nervousness. It doesn’t work and a slow, easy grin slips
onto his lips.
“I mean – I’m just- not that you have to or anything like
that – I just thought maybe you would uh- right, yeah, so I’m just gonna leave
now.“ You stand up, your cheeks flaming as you stumble over your words. A
drink? Really? Why not just scream that you want to do him right here in this
alleyway? You groan internally, and his playful laughter bubbles up beneath
You go to walk away and quickly you realize he is lumbering
“So, where we going?” He asks. You turn to him, surprised,
and slow your scurrying pace to a standstill in front of him.
“You know, to drink?” He teases, mimicking drinking from a
glass. You scoff slightly, surprised, and pleasantly so.
“Have you ever noticed people seem to make really rash, dumb
choices when they’re drunk?” He interrupts, eyes skimming briefly over yours.
With a surge of confidence, you gnaw on your lip slightly,
and follow his dark eyes with your own brazenly.
“Oh, I’m counting on it.”
Things progress very quickly after that. As it is, it turns
out you and Sehun do not require many drinks at all to make thoughtless,
impulsive choices, and you’re barely tipsy as you stumble through the door of
his apartment, his lips connected to yours.
It’s a decision you know you’ll regret in the morning, a
very, very silly decision that neither of you should be making. Still, as his
long fingers press gently against your ribcage, his leg pushing between the two
of yours, it’s not one you can seem to pull yourself away from.
His movements are tender as he touches you, careful in a way
that drives you to the brink of insanity as you just want more and more of him. He
presses you against a wall, arms caging either side of you as his mouth works
languidly against yours, peppering your lips with gentle kisses until your
mouth slips open against his and his tongue slips against yours. You groan
slightly, and you reach out your hands to brush over his cheeks, before
smoothing down the sharp angles of his body until you reach his waist, at which
you pull him flush against you.
He chuckles slightly, as the movement nudges his mouth away from
yours so that he instead breaths hotly on your neck. You both take a moment to
breathe, before he reaches down and tugs meekly on your thighs. You twine your
calves easily around his waist as his lean fingers spread across your legs,
moving his right hand up to your neck to brush away loose strands of hair and
the collar of your shirt, sucking lightly on the skin there. You bite back a
moan and your back curls against the wall, pushing your breasts against
him. He lets out a ragged breath and
pulls away from you suddenly.
“We can still… stop if you want.” He hums slightly, hands
suddenly hesitant against your thighs. You frame his face with your hands and
press your lips firmly against his, much harsher than he had done. He grunts
slightly in surprise and fists his hand in your hair as he returns the kiss
with just as much fervour. You take the chance to stretch your arms out
slightly behind you, peeling away your tartan shirt and letting it drop to the
floor, leaving you in a loose tank top. You pull away, and skirt a thumb over
his swelled bottom lip, before pressing insistent kisses against his jaw.
“I don’t… wanna stop.” You mumble and you think you hear
him curse slightly under his breath. He tilts your chin up and reclaims your
mouth, pressing against the sliver of skin exposed where your tank top has
He readjusts his grip and pushes away from the wall.
Surprised at the action, you press your head into the space between his
shoulder and neck and, as he walks, push at the jacket on his shoulders. It
slips from him easily and you lean back up to kiss him again, your hands
resting at the nape of his neck.
You’re unaware you’ve reached a bedroom until he settles
beneath you, bringing you down so that you’re sitting on top of him. You shift
slightly so that your legs are on either side of him, and press against his
crotch. He pulls away from you, moaning out your name quietly and you smirk,
pleased at your apparently significant effect on him. You tilt your head down
to nip at his neck before reaching down to pull on the ruffled white shirt he
wears, pushing it over his head. It lands with a wet thump against the floor
and as you turn to laugh slightly, Sehun takes the opportunity to flip you
over, so that he hovers, shirtless above you. You press your hands against his
back and his own palm flattens against your stomach. Instead of removing your
flimsy top, his fingers crawl beneath it, reaching up over your stomach and
fluttering over your ribcage before falling on top of your bra.
You grunt and flop beneath him, throwing your fist against
the bed sheet.
“Don’t tease.” You
huff and he chuckles at your frustration, before helping you remove the top. He
pushes you further against the bed and crawls over you, until your head rests
carefully on the navy blue pillow and he marvels down at you, smiling gently.
“Are you sure?” He whispers against your collarbone and you
almost whine at him to hurry up already. He seems to sense your
exasperation though, because he makes quick work of removing his own jeans
before then pulling off yours, kissing along your legs as he does so. When he
pulls down your underwear, his fingers press into you slowly, and he appears
about to add his mouth too when you shake your head, pulling his face up to
“Later.” You gasp and he nods, settling over you once more,
fingers curling inside you. Again you slam your fist against the bed sheets and
let out a loud groan, roughly pulling his head down against your own. He
removes his fingers and you shudder at the loss of contact, but then his hands
are slipping underneath you to unclasp your bra (and really, you have to take a
moment to appreciate how quickly he does remove it, because you’ve been wearing
one for years and it still takes you some time in the morning). Immediately his
hand is on your chest, rubbing slowly against your breast. You throw your head
back against the pillows but it smacks against the headboard instead, and you
groan at the sharp gasp of pain.
Sehun stills, gasping before moving his hand to cradle the
back of your head gently, lust quickly overcome with concern.
“Ah, y/n, are you alright?” He whispers and you wince
slightly, but nod. You stare at him for a moment, his knuckles running softly
against the back of your head. The concern in his face surprises you, but makes
you feel good in a way you cannot explain. You skim your hand over his jaw and
his gaze is drawn back to yours, wherein he blinks down at you with a firm
sense of tenderness. You smile, and lean up to press a chaste kiss against his
lips, hand still smoothing down his jaw. When you pull away, his eyes are soft,
face settled in a small grin as he runs his hand through your hair.
“Do it now.” You whisper, wracked by a sudden eagerness to
have him thrusting into you. He nods slightly, and leans down to kiss you
again, before reaching into a draw and rolling a condom onto himself. You place
your head back on the pillows as he braces above you. After a moment, he pushes
into you, and you emit a high pitched gasp, your walls settling around him. He
waits a moment too long to move, and you have to kick his shin slightly to
signal that you’re ready. He huffs out a laugh and slowly begins to press into
you, hands fisted in the sheets next to your head as he builds up a steady
rhythm. Of all the boys you’d ever had sex with (which, admittedly, was really
not that many) you’d always been pretty quiet in bed– sure, it’d felt good when
they’d moved inside you, but it hadn’t exactly been earth shattering. But Sehun. The way he thrusts into you is,
frankly, ridiculous. With every smooth roll of his hips he seems to find a
different sweet spot and when you’re a moaning mess beneath him, he adds two
fingers. You yelp, body twisting unnaturally beneath him, but he just keeps
going, a thin layer of sweat forming on his chest. You lean up, trying to match
his rhythm and he kisses you roughly, lips slanting over yours, your moans
meeting in a mismatched choir.
It’s not long before the familiar pleasure begins to build,
and by his sudden alternating change in pace you sense he’s close too. His hand
gropes your chest and he leans down, taking your nipple in his mouth and just
like that, you’re a goner. You’re on the verge of a scream as you come around
him and he all about collapses on top of you, thrusting out his own orgasm.
Your hands link as you both ride out your highs, Sehun sucking on your chest.
Spent, he pulls out of you slowly and tosses the condom into
a bin beside him, his body flopping down next to yours. You throw your arm over
your eyes, trying to calm your ragged breath as he does the same.
Silence settles around the two of you, panting, sweaty and
naked in his dark sheets. Embarrassed, you wonder if, now that you’re finished,
he expects you to leave. You shift away from him slightly, moving to the edge
of the bed when he rolls over to his side and gets out the bed. You rush to do
the same, shuffling awkwardly on the wooden floors.
You watch his figure retreat to a small wooden closet in the
corner of the room and bite your lip, shifting your hands to cover your exposed
“Uh, should I-“ You begin, but are halted as, after having
pulled on a set of loose tracksuit bottoms, he begins toward you, a shirt in
his grasp. You raise your eyebrows questioningly, but he just gestures for you
to hold your arms to the side. You do so, a little reluctantly, and he pulls
the shirt onto your shoulders, humming.
He kneels to do up the buttons and as he finishes, pulls you
toward him to place a soft kiss on your clothed stomach. Unsure of how to react,
your hands simply hover above his tousled blonde hair.
He stands once more and intertwines his hand with yours,
pulling you back toward the still–warm bed. He pushes you onto the sheets
gently before then following suit. You turn on your side and he carefully
places his hand on your waist, shifting a little closer.
“Is this… is this okay?” He mumbles and turning your head
to face him, you nod slightly. Reassured, he smiles and moves closer, arms
pressing more firmly around you.
“Don’t go.” He says and you face him once more, tilting your
head in confusion. “In the morning, don’t go.” He elaborates and you smile
softly. Instead of answering, you lean forward to press a tender kiss on his
lips, and then his cheek. His eyes closed, he lets out a small contented sigh
and you turn back around, closing your eyes.
He presses a soft kiss onto your head and, choosing not to
think of what will happen in the morning, you clear your mind, and drift into a
((pls forgive any spelling/grammar errors as it is 1am and I cannot find the energy to check this. Also, I am a holy untouched virgin so idk how accurate the smut is but???? enjoy??? if you’d like a part 2, lemme know!))
Pairing: Gabriel Reyes x Reader Summary: Gabe comes home from a long mission and can’t wait until the two of you are alone. Warnings: NSFW
It was the monthly movie night with you and the Overwatch
crew and it was Reinhardt’s turn to pick the movie. He picked some sort of
German classic. You knew it wasn’t going to be your favourite but the point was
the spend time with everyone, off mission. Gabe was due back any moment now
from a two week Blackwatch mission and you couldn’t wait to see him again. You
missed him so much when he was gone. Having someone to talk to all the time,
waking up beside him and feeling his warm body wrap around you, morning kisses
and much more.
You sit down on a large sofa chair and settle down before
throwing your blanket overtop of your body. Just as you get comfy and the movie
is about to start, Gabe and Jesse walk in. Your face lights up with excitement
and you immediately jump out of the chair, rushing to his side.
Gabe’s arms wrap around your waist and pull you close before
he gives you a long kiss.
“Welcome home,” you smile up at him.
“It’s good to be home,” he gives your forehead a quick kiss
before you lead him over to the chair you were sitting in.
A lifetime of spiritual training under Mondatta himself could not have prepared Genji for this war he’d been waging. The terms were amicable, no physical violence, no underhanded tactics. Each side fought for their greatest love, neither party relenting. The cyborg was determined to conquer and reign supreme. His sworn enemy responded with cool indifference, imagined wrath hidden under a fluffy exterior. Of course it was no surprise Genji was crouched behind your loveseat, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
“Oh God… What are you up to now?” Genji was vigilant. Not a muscle moved without purpose. “Can’t we just watch the movie without you getting all weird about Mr. Whiskers?” He looked at you, considering the proposal briefly before slithering to the left side of the couch.
“Dearest, nothing about this is weird. Great men have fought greater battles in the name of love.” He peeked over the arm rest. The target was a black cat with emerald green eyes. It looked lazily at the cyborg mask spying from behind a throw pillow. Genji scowled. “Go ahead and start the movie. The end is nigh.” You rolled your eyes and plopped down on the right side cushion. Mr. Whiskers meowed approvingly and stretched his paws, claws extending in the most benign way conceivable. “The fiend reveals his weapons!”
“Yeah. Sure. So am I eating all this popcorn by myself?” Genji made a horrified gasp, “My love please! You know I love popcorn…” God he was adorable when he wanted to be. You watched him affectionately. He sat on the armrest and tried to slide onto the cushion beside you. The cat naturally oblidged and took up his space on your lap. Genji puffed up with pride, charging rapidly towards the fall. “Wonderful. Glad you could make it. Now take the cat while I grab something to drink.”
You put the cat directly in Genji’s lap and the reason for these antics was clear. The ninja cyborg had a fear of cats! He stiffened up, arms tight to his sides, craning his neck as far from your beloved pet as possible. He tried to ask you to hurry but all that came out was a strangled groan. Mr. Whiskers licked at the metallic chestplate absentmindedly. You laughed wickedly from the kitchen. Why not enjoy having control while it lasted? Genji would have his time later on tonight.
“Darlin’ you know I love you, but if that cat doesn’t stop hissin’ we’re gonna have a big problemo.” As if she heard the vulgar cowboy, Cruella snarled in defiance. An aptly named black and white American long hair was primed to attack. Jesse blew a cloud of smoke in her direction. “I ain’t done nothin’ to it! Why’s it hate me so darn much? And why won’t you lock it in the bedroom when I come over?” You frantically tried to soothe both beasts in the room. Words of comfort were cooed to the cat. She looked up at you as if to warn you of what was coming.
“I’m not locking my cat in the bedroom. She was here before you.” McCree chewed angrily on his cigar, obviously hurt by that remark. You placed yourself between the two and wrapped your arms around him. He did not return the favor. “C'mon baby! I’ll make it worth your while. I promise.” You kissed his cheek, neck, collarbone, and back up to those taut lips. He seemed to soften under your touch.
“I’m not tryin’ to make you choose. For all I know you’d pick the damn cat. I just want to spend time with you without worrying about my eyes getting clawed out. Is that too much for a man to ask?” Cruella certainly thought so. She was having none of this canoodling and began to pace back and forth around your feet. You tried to shoo her away to no avail. McCree cursed and pulled away from your embrace. “Listen, why don’t you get this figured out and call me later? I’m heading home.”
The cat sat smugly at your feet and watched him walk through the kitchen door. “Jesse please don’t go! I love you! We haven’t seen each other in a week. Stay with me?” He heaved a great sigh before pulling a chair out from the table and sitting. “Fine. But I will not be caught dead in the same room as that mangy animal.” You frowned, growing tired of all this drama. “If you’re going to pout like that then fine. I’ll put the cat in the bedroom. But you’d better fuck me in every other room of this house I swear to God. I won’t hear another word about it!” The cowboy looked over his shoulder with a smirk. “I’m not one to let a lady down. I just hope you know what you’re gettin’ yourself into.”
Hanzo was never one to complain. Not even when his time with you was being hampered by an emotionally distraught kitten. The little thing had just been adopted from the shelter and couldn’t stand being away from you. Tonight was date night and you’d cooked a delicious meal for your man. Conversation was difficult, however, with incessant mewling from under the table. The nameless kitten pawed at your leg. Hanzo watched with feigned disinterest as you picked up the furball and held it to your chest.
“I’m sorry hun. Maybe he’s hungry too. Let me just fill his bowl.” Hanzo tightened his grip on the fork and took a long swig of wine. Once the kitten was distracted by fresh food, you returned to your seat at the dinner table. “Is there something wrong?” The archer shook his head curtly. “No. Nothing at all. Thank you for this romantic evening.” You could always tell he was lying when he strung more than three words together. “Hanzo,” you inquired, “Are you being honest with me?” Rhetorical, of course. He stared hard into his place, considering how to respond.
“It is difficult for me to leave Overwatch and visit you. I do not appreciate being second best to a cat. If that is how you feel, I will–”
“You are the most important thing in the world to me. I love you more than words can express. I’m sorry the kitten is so needy but… Is it really bothering you so much?” He seemed to recoil in shame. “You will always be my first priority, Hanzo. I need you to know that.” It amazed you that a man so cool and confident in the heat of battle could be shaken by a cute little kitten. A small chuckle broke the tension that had formed. “Why don’t you help me pick a name for him? That way he’s your cat too!”
Hanzo seemed confused but eager. “Tora is a fitting title. He will grow to be your guardian. A mighty tiger for my princess.” And then the impossible happened. Tora, now full of food, pattered over to the stoic man and rubbed up against his leg. Hanzo reached down and cradled the baby in his arms. “Tora indeed.”
Klaine fic - “All the Beautiful Pieces” (Rated NC17)
Blaine Anderson is spending the summer after graduation flipping houses with his brother for Cooper’s total home renovation show. The show features the worst houses Cooper can buy, with Blaine playing the role of lackey so that Cooper can torture him in front of his viewers. The last house Blaine has to renovate is an original Victorian House in San Diego, CA, which is in terrible condition. But this house turns out to be more than just another job. It was once owned by a famous Vaudeville ventriloquist by the name of Andrew Smythe. It houses a very interesting collection of items - among them, two life-sized puppets. Blaine isn’t sure exactly why, but he’s drawn to them - especially to the one with the beautiful blue eyes. He convinces Cooper to give him the puppets, and Blaine starts to restore them. In the course of the restoration, Blaine finds out that neither puppet is simply a run-of-the-mill puppet, and Andrew Smythe was hiding a secret that will be the key to saving two lives.
Okay, so, as many of you people know, this was my Reverse Bang story from way too long ago. I had it completed, but as I was uploading it, my computer crashed and obliterated this plus a ton of my other stories, which I have been writing back from memory these many years. I had this one almost down except for the last three chapters, which have been lost in the void of my brain. So, what I’ve done is start over from the beginning. I haven’t been changing the story, just freshening the language, and then I will add those last three chapters. But I’m posting it here one chapter per week so those of you who would like to can get reacquainted with the story. Of course, you could jump ahead to AO3, and cheat, re-read all 17 original chapters at once, but you’ll still have to wait for the ending, and only chapters 1-7 have been redone. Anyway, this story wouldn’t even exist without @freakingpotter who is an amazing artist and an even more amazing friend <3 Give her lots of love <333
(Warning for character death that happens in the past, hoarding, and anxiety.)
Chapter 1 (6515 words)
stares out the windshield of his rented Honda Odyssey, his jaw dropping open,
stunned out of his senses at the sight of the disastrous house in front of him.
His hands grip the steering wheel for support. His knees knock together,
completely out of his control. A low, pitiful whining noise rattles around in
the back of his throat. The house to his right, nestled incongruously behind a
manicured lawn, carefully pruned rose bushes, and a well-established Mulberry
tree, is so incredibly awful that he can’t stop looking at it. It’s like a
horrendous traffic accident – lots of blood and twisted metal, but try as you
might, you can’t make yourself look away.
Reyes had never been to Voeld before, and he didn’t think he’d
ever been this cold. There was cryo, of course, but he hadn’t really felt that.
There was also that one terrifying suit breach back in training, and that was an experience he never wanted
to repeat - but it wasn’t really comparable. The cold up here wasn’t sharp or
fleeting. It was dense. It was pervasive. It made his limbs feel heavy, like there
were icicles hanging from his sleeves. Still, it was a pleasant kind of cold.
It made his heart beat faster to make up the difference. He had a helmet on,
but his lips still felt a little numb.
Sara was barely visible through the haze of whirling snow, but she
was somewhere above him. If he squinted up the mountainside, he could see her
clinging to the slope. Slope was
putting it mildly, though. It looked like they were climbing up the side of a
How had she talked him into this?
She twisted around to wave at him - and Reyes’ heart lurched
up into his mouth when she wobbled on her perch. She caught herself, though,
and Reyes could hear her laughing through the comm in his helmet.
Sara gave an exaggerated shrug - and removed both hands from
the rock she’d been clutching. Reyes was sure his heart was going to give out
right here. Maybe he’d fall off the mountainside and finally find out what was
so great about a jump jet.
“No hands,” Sara said cheerily. She waved them both in the air - and if Reyes could have seen her face through her helmet, he’d have definitely found her grinning. “You doing okay down there?”
“Just fine,” he grumbled. He was trying not to
look down. He stretched for his next handhold, carefully checking its stability
before he hauled himself up higher. This wasn’t rock-climbing, precisely, but
it was close enough. Reyes didn’t want to find out how this would go without
something to hold onto. “What about you? Want me to take a turn carrying
“Nah.” Sara turned back around and gave her hips a
wriggle, shaking the two bundles of hardened polymer slats that were strapped
across her shoulders. “I’m good. Scott and I used to take turns carrying
them, and Dad’s weighed a ton.”
“Yours was an awfully athletic family, wasn’t it?”
Sara chuckled - or maybe she just exhaled loudly. Reyes hadn’t yet sorted through which parts of Sara’s family life were still sore to the touch. This seemed to be one of those memories she hadn’t made up her own mind
about, either. She turned her back and reached for another rock.
“We’re nearly there,” she breathed into the comm.
“We’ll rest at the top.”
“You can’t mean the top.”
Reyes was aghast. “That is a very tall peak, Sara. I can’t even see it
from down here.”
She did laugh, this time; full-throated and gleeful.
“Not the top top. See that
slope?” She pointed with her left hand, and Reyes followed the line of her
arm to an outcropping about twenty metres higher up. It was a steep approach
from where they were, but it gave way to a smooth slope on its western side. “We’ll
go from there.”
Reyes barely made it. He’d always thought he was in pretty
good shape, but the Pathfinder’s lifestyle was turning out to be more than he
was ready for. Sara had made this little trip to Voeld sound much more romantic
and much less exhausting than it had been so far, and Reyes’ legs were wobbling when he
finally clambered up onto the ledge she’d pointed out. She grabbed his forearm
to help him up the final few steps, tumbling back onto her haunches when he was
finally kneeling beside her.
Sara tugged off her helmet and plonked it onto the ground. Her hair spilled across the rock, picking up snowflakes as it
went. Her cheeks were red. She was grinning, but she was breathing hard - and
that helped with Reyes’ embarrassment when he lay down flat on his face. He
pulled his helmet off and lobbed it into the snowdrift behind them.
Sara laughed, the pitch climbing steadily. Her voice turned breathy as she tugged on Reyes’ arm. “Look,” she urged him.
Reyes grumbled as he picked himself up - but in the end, he
was glad he obeyed.
The snowfields spread out below them like a sea of melted
stars. Ice, snow, rock, sky; they were everywhere and nowhere, wrapped in an
orb of pale blue and white. The sun blazed high above them, brilliant but
somehow cold, its pale light bathing everything in a piercing, peaceful glow. Reyes
felt his mouth fall open. He forgot the cold. He forgot the wind. He forgot the
ache in his muscles and the sweat on his skin.
Sara beamed at him, her hand snaking down his arm. Their
gloves made it difficult, but she twined her fingers through his. “Your mouth
She turned his face to hers and kissed him, teasing his
lower lip between her teeth. Reyes could taste ice water on her lips. “Thank
you for coming with me. I haven’t done this since I was a
With that, she slid her burdens off her shoulder. The heavy
slats clacked loudly as she emptied them onto the rock and set about
clicking the pieces together. Reyes watched uncertainly as the first sled
slowly took form. The view was
beautiful, but his awe was quickly fading. Heights were fine. Speed was fine.
Descending a height at speed, though,
without a good pair of wings beneath you - that was insanity.
“I know you said this wasn’t dangerous -”
“- but I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to back
Sara chuckled, and she snapped the next pair of slats
together with glee. “Having second
thoughts? There’s no way you can be
scared of heights.”
“Falling, then?” Her words were punctuated with snaps; clacks; scrapes.
“Seems like a difficult fear for a pilot to have.”
“That’s not it.” Reyes would never have admitted
it, but he wasn’t just uncomfortable. He really was starting to feel scared.
Sara clicked the last component into place, surveying her
work critically. The two sleds were plain, but apparently serviceable, because
she gave a satisfied nod. She tucked her hair under her collar and pulled her
helmet back on, then retrieved Reyes’ from the snowdrift. She handed it back to
him, smiling through her visor - but something in his eyes must have given him
away. Her smile turned soft and careful.
“We don’t have to do this,” she said gently.
“I was glad just to walk up here. It’s beautiful.”
Reyes shook his head. He knew a white lie when he heard one,
so he prised his helmet from her hands. He slid it back on, grateful for the
little hiss that sounded when the latches resealed - because he suddenly needed
a very deep breath.
“We’re up here, aren’t we? Let’s do this.”
Sara’s next smile was a thousand watts. Her movements
quick and careful, like a child sharing her favourite game, she positioned her
sled at the lip of the hill. She sat down atop it with her feet braced against the
forward corners, taking pains to ensure she faced the gentler side of
the incline. Craning over, she patted the snow beside her.
Reyes’ heartbeat was rattling his skeleton. He was definitely
numb, now, but he could feel a throbbing between his shoulder blades. It was probably
just his heart - and it was probably trying to flee.
He dragged his sled over and sat down just like she had. He
copied her stance, but he couldn’t still his shaking hands.
Sara clapped him on the shoulder. “Just stay with
Then she was over the edge - and she was gone, streaking away across the snow
like a probe through a glittering nebula. For the length of half a heartbeat,
Reyes remained frozen.
He pushed his sled forward, and the decision was suddenly
out of his hands. Gravity took over, and he was flying - not really flying, of course; not in the sense that Reyes
always had - but the world was eroded in a blur of ice and snow. His heart
ceased battering against his spine. It clung to it instead, hanging on for dear
life - and Reyes hung on too. He could hear Sara whooping through the comm. He
could hear his blood rushing in his ears -
But there was no sudden disaster; no abrupt but expected
end. His adrenaline ran its course. Gravity ran its course, too, and the world
slowly resumed its shape as Reyes began to slow. He could see Sara waving at
him from the bottom of the hill, helmet once again discarded. She was laughing;
yelling; cheering - and by the time Reyes slid to a halt beside her, he was
“That was great!”
she hollered. She was beaming at him, her cheeks even more flushed than before.
Reyes ripped off his helmet and flung himself into the snow
beside her. “Shit.”
Sara laughed, clambering over him to lie down at his side. A
snowflake landed on his nose, but Sara kissed it away. “Again?”
Some photos of the Hamburger Hafen :) I like this place it is nice to take a walk along the embankments and to see the ships pass by :)
It is kind of the heart of Hamburg :) Everything this city is grew around the harbour and the businesses connected to it :) Like shipyards, trading, storage facilities (Speicherstadt :), fishing and international relations :)
It is also nice to take a look at the harbour from the other side of the river Elbe :) Going through the Elbtunnel is quite fascinating from an engineers perspective :3 <=I can never really shake off the sense of analysing things around me from a technical point of view (^-^;)
One thing I like about the other side of the harbour are the ships carcasses in the side channel and the cranes :3 The one in the next to last photo looks like it is grazing on the trees :D
The evening hours in the harbour are quite nice as everything is nicely lit but kind of difficult to take photos of as the nature of a river is to be kind of wavy so everything is shaking at a rate that is imperceptible by the human eye but becomes obvious once you need to use extended shutter times :D
There is a new kind of happy graffiti cropping up all over the city :D They remind me of the Uni Bozu from the film Ponyo :3 Cute :3
These are places that inspire me although there are plenty more inspiring places in Hamburg :D <=The people around here are nice too :)
I wish everyone a great time with sweet dreams of things that inspire you and make you feel like they are motivating you to do your best (^-^)/
Title: Marry Me, He
Summary: “When I’m beheaded at least I was wedded and when I am buried at least I
Princess Emma marries Rumpelstiltskin to save her kingdom from
destruction. She’s given up on her own happiness, but every so often, in a
flash of blue eyes, she thinks that she glimpses it. Lt Duckling/Enchanted
Forest AU. Angsty slow burn.
A/N: Flood warning. This is long but worth it. Rating: M
The door closed with a click as Spencer turned and pressed it past the latch point. The day had been long and stressful but he was more restless than tired in that moment, hoping for at least some warm affection from the one he loved. As he turned, he looked around the living room of their apartment, wondering just where she was. He’d text her before he set off to let her know he’d be home and she’d said that she had something for him but she was nowhere to be seen.
“Sit down, babe,” came a voice from the bedroom. “I’ll be there in a moment.”
Without questioning it, Spencer moved over to the sofas, dropping his satchel by the door as he went. Stepping in front of his usual seat, he sat facing away from the bedroom, wondering just what it was that she’d had in mind. There were a few things he had in mind but after previous discussions, he feared it would never happen. The sound of the bedroom door almost made him turn around but he resisted, feeling lazy more than he was curious. It wasn’t till he saw her that all of the day’s frustrations slipped from his mind.
Y/N stepped in front of him as he sat in the armchair, wearing nothing but the pendant that he’d bought her for her Birthday. A look of pleasant surprise spread across his face as she lowered herself to her knees in front of him.
“Wh… what are you doing?” he asked as she sat on her heels, looking down away from him.
“Well, after we talked the other day, I thought more about it and… I thought that I should maybe try it before I dismiss it,” she explained
“You mean… you want to?” he asked, to which she nodded, holding her hands together behind her back. “And where did you learn this?”
“I may have looked some things up, and it turns out that there’s a lot more to this than just… kink.”
Spencer sat forward, looking at the gift that had all but landed in his lap as she offered herself to him in such a way. Touching the soft skin of her cheek then letting his fingers slide down under her chin, he tipped her head up so that her eyes slowly met his.
“I promise, if there is anything you don’t like, I will stop. Just say you don’t like it and that’s it, it stops,” he explained, pursing his lips before letting his tongue slip between them to moisten them. When she didn’t respond, he realised just how much she’d been reading. “Do you understand?”
“I do… sir,” she said softly, hesitating on the last word as if she was unsure it was what he wanted but when his smile broadened she knew it was the right thing to do.
“Stand up,” he instructed, sitting back a little to allow her to rise. Y/N did exactly as asked, rising to her feet slowly but keeping her hand together at the base of her spine. It slowly sank in that her naked form in front of him was about to be completely his to control. Spencer stood up with her, holding out his hand so that she would take it.
The moment her hand slipped into his, he stepped to the side and led her back to the bedroom, pausing briefly by the door to pick up his satchel. Pushing through the doorway with his shoulder, he led them through the threshold and toward their bed. Spencer had consciously decided a long time ago that he wanted a four poster bed and as they stepped into their bedroom he realised why. Turning, he placed a gentle hand on her hip, guiding her to stand by the end of the bed.
Y/N looked nervous, even though she’d been looking into what he might want of her, she still didn’t know just where he’d take her. The embarrassment of being stood so naked, so exposed, so vulnerable made her cheeks turn red but at the same time, his demeanour made her feel like even in her nakedness, she was beautiful. Was that the point? To make the person who submitted themselves feel like this rather than just to please the person they were submitting to?
“Give me your hands,” came the next instruction and she obeyed, moving her hands from behind her back and offering them to him but rather than taking them, he leaned down to his satchel. Y/N watched with curiosity but kept her hands where they were till finally his intentions were revealed. Something shiny caught her attention as it slipped from the bag, but it wasn’t till the cold steel met her wrist that she realised what it was. The ratchet of the cuff clicked around as it enclosed the joint till it was small enough to restrain her hand within the gap.
There was a flicker of fear as he raised her hands to the crossbar of the four poster, reaching the chain of the cuffs over the bar before applying the other cuff to her remaining free wrist. Now, she was even more exposed than she had been, even more vulnerable without her arms or hands to cover her body if she needed them. With her arms up high and her shoulders back, her breasts were pushed out with the arch of her back, her sides were bare and open to anything he might have had in mind but her legs remained together as the one piece of protection she had for herself.
As Spencer’s hands trailed back down her arms a hand brushed her cheek before his fingertips moved over her breasts. The feeling sent a shiver through her as her skin was set on edge, both in enjoyment of the sensuality and nerves. His fingers continued down her body, moving down her stomach and to her hipbone before moving across her pubic area. The closeness had started to push the nerves out of her mind as his nails dragged softly.
The feel of her soft, smooth, warm flesh under his fingers set him off, so much so that he could feel his excitement rising within his pants. This was possibly the greatest gift he’d ever been given and though he was outwardly stern, he couldn’t help but feel joyously connected to her in the most intimate way which, to him, was the whole point.
“Would you like pleasure?” he asked with a voice of confidence she’d not heard before.
“Mhmm,” replied Y/N, nodding lightly before letting out a gasp as a single finger slipped between her lips to tease, circling leisurely.
Spencer’s grin was somewhat disturbing as he watched her struggle against the restraint, her hands instinctively wanting to feel him or at least, her own body. What started as a gasp became a steady whimper as he continued to move with increasing pressure and pace. Y/N’s body was just starting to get into the rhythm of the motions when, suddenly, they ceased.
Spencer had stepped away from her, leaving her trapped and alone at the end of the bed as he walked around the side toward the dresser. Craning her head, she tried to see what he was but from her position she just couldn’t, all she could do was listen to the sound of him opening a drawer then closing it again.
The footsteps came back toward her and she let her eyes fall again, not looking to him till he stood right in front of her. In one hand was a bottle of clear fluid and in the other was the toy she usually kept in the drawer of her nightstand. Surprise spread across her face once again as she looked up to him, not fully knowing what he had in mind but the thoughts of what it could be made her weak at the knees.
Taking a step toward her, he placed the items down, freeing his hands to remove his shirt. Two eyes burned into her as she looked back at him, searching his eyes for a clue as to what was next. Once he was free of his shirt, Spencer picked up the toy that he’d brought to her, kneeling in front of her and staring in to the gap between her thighs.
“Open your legs,” he commanded, and she obeyed, shuffling her feet apart as he pressed the toy against her inner thigh. It was a little cold on her hot skin as it traced upward with the most gradual of paces. The anticipation was enough to cause her to breathe in a laboured manner, waiting to feel the bliss once more but he prolonged each moment with complete control, teasing one side then the other before circling her, wetting the tip of the toy with her own moisture.
“Mmmm,” she hummed as he positioned the toy, slowly sliding it upward, letting her take it in a little at a time. The feeling caused her to close her eyes, letting her head roll back as she hung by her wrists. The pinch of the steel reminded her of her restraint while the steady motion of the toy sent gradual waves through her.
It was her bliss he craved, the thing he wanted most was to hear her enjoying his work, to know that it was him that gave her so much pleasure. In the end, it was her pleasure that gave him pleasure. It was her getting off on him that would get him off.
Without warning, she felt his lips press against her stomach as they began to kiss their way down toward her. The closer he got the more she held her breath, waiting for the inevitable feel of his tongue as it slipped between her lips and pressed against her pleasure point.
The intensity caused her to cry out a little but the more she whimpered and moaned the deeper he pushed the toy and the harder and faster he pressed his tongue. But what about him? Surely, this was only serving her? Looking down, she realised that his free hand was wrapped around his cock, slowly pumping along with the motions as he got off on her restrained pleasure.
Y/N’s moaning and groaning and writhing had been too much to watch without touching himself, like living pornography right in front of him. He needed her to feel so much more before he could join her but he was unable to hold onto his internal restraint.
Heat started to build from deep inside her as she felt the first orgasm start to build. The deepening toy and the feel of his mouth were such intense feelings that it rushed forward so fast she was barely able to contain her moaning.
“Come for me,” he demanded in a low and powerful voice, looking up to her before he spoke again. “I want you to come, Y/N”
Spencer didn’t have to ask twice because the moment his lips hit her again the feeling of bliss exploded violently through her, causing her to writhe against him and against her restraints so much that she had to hold onto the crossbar to stop the cuffs from hurting her.
As her body calmed from the powerful orgasm, he released her from his mouth but left the toy inside her, letting her inner muscles tighten and loosen against it. Her world was spinning and her senses were on fire as she came down from bliss, so much so that she almost didn’t notice the sound of a cap snapping shut. Looking down to him again, she realised that he had spread some of the clear fluid onto his hand and was now rubbing it into the length of his hardened shaft.
Spencer stood up in front of her, letting his pants stay down by his ankles and exposing the rest of himself. Y/N wanted to ask what he wanted her to do but he was already preparing whatever it was as his hand moved to her behind and his fingers slipped in between her cheeks. The fluid was cold and slippery as his fingers spread it around her much smaller hole before pushing in just a little.
The feeling of his finger sent yet another shiver through her, realising just what he wanted to do next. It wasn’t something she was a complete stranger to so she had no objections, she’d just never expected him to want it. As the finger deepened, her breath shuddered. Y/N could feel his freshly lubed cock press against her stomach and his breath against her neck as he leaned over her shoulder.
The next finger was a little less comfortable, causing her to wince a little but still, she didn’t object, leaving him to continue. Sliding his fingers in and out gradually, a hand reached up to insert the key into the handcuffs, finally freeing her from her restraint.
It was time. Spencer had become so unbearably hard that it was almost painful not to be inside her. Y/N’s body, her enjoyment of him had teased him to the point of almost desperate need rather than just lustful want.
Y/N didn’t even have time to appreciate the freedom as she was spun around and a hand pressed her back, forcing her over. Spencer had pressed himself in behind her, forcing her to lean against one of the corner posts as his fingers slipped from inside her, leaving just the toy in her. Grabbing hold of one of her hands, guided it to the end of the protruding toy and wordlessly urging her to use it on herself. As she began moving the toy inside herself, he carefully positioned himself behind her, adjusting his footing to gain the correct height.
The tip of his cock felt much bigger against a much smaller hole and for the first push Y/N was glad of the lubricant he’d applied, wincing heavily as the uncomfortable feeling passed through and deep inside her from behind.
The tightness made him gasp lightly as he slowly pulled out a little before pushing back in gently. The feel of both his cock and the toy sliding into each orifice was very strange at first but once the discomfort had passed for them both and he was able to push into her as normal it stopped feeling strange and just felt good. So good. Feeling the motion of her toy inside her so close to his cock added to the tightness around him, making it so tight that he was sure he’d barely be able to last his entire plan.
Spencer reached around her again, taking over with the toy as he was finally in his rhythm. Y/N had to hold onto the corner post with both hands to steady herself, moaning loudly with each deepening penetration. A hand crept up her back, taking hold of some of her hair and gripping it lightly, giving him a little more leverage so that he could push himself even deeper into her ass. The wrist of the hand that controlled the toy started to purposefully but lightly slap against her, aiding in her pleasure.
“Oh shit…” she exclaimed but the profanity was met with a sharp stinging hand against on of her ass cheeks, causing her to whimper but still without objection. The sting only served to add to her enjoyment, rather than actually hurting. Y/N’s knees began to weaken again as her next orgasm started to build, with all of the intense pleasures occurring from so many directions.
“You do not have permission to come yet,” he threatened as her body began to tense and all she could do was whimper and concentrate hard on pushing the feeling deep down. Her nails dug heavily into the wood of the post in an attempt redirect what she was feeling but the longer he continued to thrust into hard into her with both his length and the length of the toy, the harder it became to hold it back. With each outward breath came a heavy whimper as her whole body shook, trying to hold on till finally he gave permission.
“Come,” he ordered. “Come now and scream for me.”
There was no pause as she released all of the energy letting the extraordinary high buzz through her, causing her to cry out loudly.
“Oh my God, Spencer… oh… Hmmmm…. Hmmmm….” she moaned, unable to do anything about the convulsions that took hold of her but like last time, there was no reprieve. Without any warning, everything was pulled from inside her and she was spun back around. Her second orgasm had been so intense that it had brought him to the very edge, leaving him very little time to maneuver her to where he wanted to finish.
“On your knees,” he demanded, pushing her down with his hand as the other wrapped itself around his cock once more. “Give me your mouth.”
Without question, she opened her mouth and leaned forward to take the tip of him in it, fully aware of where it had just been. Moments later, Spencer released a long, throaty moan, his entire body jerked as her mouth was filled with hot, sticky, salty fluid. Not wanting to disappoint him, she swallowed every drop before wrapping a hand around his shaft to milk it for more, lapping up anything that emerged.
With both of them feeling weakened, Spencer fell to his knees beside her, having used her body for his needs. He took hold of her and pulled her into his chest, wrapping her up in his arms to protect her and care for her. Y/N shivered in his arms, feeling utterly exposed and vulnerable yet again but the loving warmth of him spread into her and she curled into him, giving herself up in a much different way.
That was the part that he loved the most.
Tucking his hair behind his ear, he looked down to her shivering, naked form and felt closer to her than he ever had. In that moment, she truly needed him to be gentle, so that’s exactly what he would be. Loving, kind, gentle, a complete contrast to the Spencer that had taken her so roughly only minutes ago.