#GETTING OVERPOWERED BY A CHILD | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

loveindefinitely · 10 months ago

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task force 141 with a controversially young civilian girlfriend.

-> mentions of large age-gaps, referenced sexual content, alcohol use. afab!fem!reader. minor dubcon (everyone's drunk.)

thinking that you're studying in uni. working on the side to try and afford rent and, if you're lucky, some noodles every other night. you don't really get seen compared to your friends, who go out clubbing and spend their spare time on dating apps.

one time, your friend drags you to a bar. not usually your scene, considering its clientele is more for tradies, and military-type men. not like the stuck-up blue collar boys at your uni.

cue you getting drunk off your ass, barely even standing, when you bump into one johhny mactavish.

he holds your elbows, your chest crashing into his. gentle with it, too -- kind and sweet and grounding.

"y'alright, lass?" he asks, a small smirk on his face, eyes darting across your frame greedily. he, in all fairness, looks nearly as drunk as you. he stumbles a little with your weight.

you giggle, tilting your head to look at him. say something stupid like, "you don't look like a student."

his brows raise, his dimples deepen. "aye, very smart, hen."

you preen with the compliment, a cheesy grin stuck to your face. you make no move to stand up and leave. you think your friend just left with a guy anyways.

johnny moves you, muscled arm around your waist as he takes you to a booth.

three other men sit in it, only one looking somewhere in a ten-year age bracket to you. they're all impossibly large, filling out the space with ease. your stomach swoops, but you easily blame the alcohol.

manoeuvring you so you sit in his lap, johnny's hand is a comforting weight on your waist. he huffs a laugh.

"didn't realise we were goin' for jailbait, soap," the youngest one chimes, dark features shining in the pub's dim light. his eyes trail your frame silkily.

you can't stop the roll of your eyes -- your inhibitions have made you senseless. "'m not, 'm completely," you drag out the syllables, "legal."

a hand on your thigh makes you jolt, and when you look over, a blonde man with a black medical mask raises an unimpressed brow. "got a problem, kid?"

you shoot him a weak glare. "not a kid. weirdo."

the arm around your waist tightens, as does the weirdo's hand encompassing your thigh.

"not scared of anythin', are you darl'?" the final man in the booth asks, hands folded together where they rest at the table. he looks at least double your age, and that simple fact along with his drawling words has your core tightening.

"what's there to be scared of?" you ask, stupidly. your head tilts to the side, unknowingly moving to rest on johnny's shoulder. he doesn't comment.

"miss bein' young and drunk," gaz sighs, hand softly gripping the gin sat on the table in front of him.

"you look young," your brows furrow, not understanding. how old could he really be, to act so nostalgic of your current predicament? "how old are you guys?"

it's an embarrassing question -- makes you feel like a child all over again. but your interest is quickly peaking, and your need for answers overpowers your need for decorum.

johnny's the one to answer, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers.

"gaz, the pretty one over there, he's twenty-eight," he murmurs, heat stirring low in your gut as you nod mindlessly, meeting gaz's eyes.

johnny stokes his thumb over the skin of your hip, and you curl into him further -- stranger be damned.

"i'm thirty," he hums, and god, he sounds so fucking sensual you're about to melt into his arms. if you aren't already.

"the guy in the mask?" said man's hand tightens impossibly against your skin, fingers just shy of grazing your aching pussy, "he's thirty-seven. got a lot of experience, aye?"

you shudder.

"what about you?" you end up voicing, shyly meeting the last man's gaze. he takes a slow sip of his whiskey.

he leans back into the cushion, eyeing you carefully.

"forty-three."

your thighs squeeze together, and fuck, if that's not a turn-on. no matter how unsafe you should feel, surrounded by four military-grade, older men, it only manages to have you wet beyond belief.

all you can manage is one question.

"take me home?"

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inwinterhell · 2 months ago

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As a female athlete myself, I just want to quickly appreciate how George R.R Martin writes his women who fight. It’s never, “she wanted to be a warrior so she worked harder than everyone and eventually she could beat all the boys.” He actually gives his characters strengths and weaknesses—as well as cultural ties to fighting— and he makes these traits enhance the already existing plot lines these characters follow. The mental game is also always just as important, if not more, than the physical game, which I’ve found is true in sports and probably much more true in actual life-threatening situations.

Arya is a small child. She’s nine, she’s skinny; she would probably never excel at being a knight, so instead she learns a different type of fighting. She’ll never overpower anyone, but she can be quick and sneaky and use her left hand which most people don’t know how to fight against. Also, I would argue that Syrio’s teachings about “looking with your eyes” were far more important to her than the physical part of water dancing. Most of the time she isn’t using her skills to directly fight people, but to run away, to spy on people, to catch food and survive. Syrio is her friend, Needle is Jon Snow’s smile, etc. Arya learning how to use her stature to her advantage is part of a greater connection to her identity and the people who helped her.

Brienne is stronger than most men, but she faces constant misogyny because of that (which is all too realistic). She constantly faces internal battles with her own self-image and harassment wherever she goes. She gets taught to use men’s pride and anger to her advantage:

“Old Ser Goodwin was long in his grave, yet she could hear him whispering in her ear. Men will always underestimate you, he said, and their pride will make them want to vanquish you quickly, lest it be said that a woman tried them sorely. Let them spend their strength in furious attacks, whilst you conserve your own. Wait and watch, girl, wait and watch (AFFC Brienne 7)”

Finally, “no chance, and no choice” is her most memorable line for a reason. It’s not her martial prowess that makes her a great character; it’s her bravery and honor.

Cultural ties are also so important to the reasons many women in the series fight. Asha is Balon’s last remaining child when all her brothers are dead and gone. Of course she knows how to fight and sail. Her tension with Theon is less about her showing off and more about her proving how much she actually knows her people while he doesn’t (of course that isn’t Theon’s fault but that’s a whole other post). The Mormont women learned to fight because they historically had to fight off invaders; the Sand snakes’ skills show their connection to Oberyn, etc.

Anyway I just love how George uses fighting to enhance his characters’ personalities and not define them. None of them are physically or mentally infallible, and none are exempt from misogyny. They just learned to do something that empowers and protects them despite society’s expectations. George’s writing of women is definitely not perfect, but this is something I really appreciate.

#reading about Syrio and Arya brought this whole ramble back to me #arya stark #brienne of tarth #asha greyjoy #the mormont girls #the sand snakes #lyanna stark #asoiaf #valyrianscrolls

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acid-ixx · 3 months ago

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brutus: out for blood (villain au concept)

ft. neglectful yandere! bruce wayne x gn villain! reader

— masterlist !

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: did anybody ask for this? no! did i decide to write this anyways? abso -fucking-lutely. is this a rantfic? mayybee. anyways, this is not my best piece nor will anything i write be my best piece but i just love destroying my happiness with angst and altho writing a very anxiety ridden mc is fun, i also love to dabble in sadomasochistic traits for a main character. like i said, i am not proud of this but i figured i should post something. erm... leave comments bec i love reading whatever stuff u guys have in store hehe.

you've tasted blood on your tongue far longer than you've felt the loving touch of a family.

it's metallic. it's salty. it twists every vein in your gut.

it tastes of broken metal pipes in playgrounds, destructive tantrums and broken dreams, of skipped classes and detention rooms, of ripped test papers and missed diplomas. it reminds you of your bitter past every single time; one you swore you've buried six feet deep into the ground. a burning memory with nothing more than heartaches and heartbreaks.

you taste blood whenever they reject your advances for even a single moment of bonding time. you feel it pumping slowly, steadily, painfully whenever you stumble upon a room, only to see them, smiles and all, huddled together in a group with junk food in their hands and a movie playing in that stupid flat screen tv. you know it's the only thing accompanying you whenever he misses another event in your school. it becomes the only friend you have whenever you're alone, inside your too-small room, with shatters glass scattered around and bruised knuckles.

blood, for most, is vile, utterly repulsive. it reeks in every corner of a room, its scent is overpowering, it stains, it's hard to clean. it imprints. and it will always remind you it's there, in the depths of your body, curdling and boiling and ready to burst out of the seems every time you rip at your skin with a razor sharp blade. blood has always been your only friend, like a scar that will never fade away.

yet you embrace crimson like it was the color of your soul, and accept how it's the only color you allow in your grim life. black has never provided you solace, but red allowed for a mantra of emotions to trail into your very being.

blood. it's more homely than you let it out to be.

and you're far more familiar with it than anything else. you cradle it like an unwanted child, you kiss its wounds, allow it to fester and grow into an abhorrent disease that crawls like a lump in your throat that you could never get rid of.

in moments of solace, of quaint prayers and hours of kneeling into the floor— it is the thing that slides on cold, hard tiles. it is the warmth, the numbness, the thing that seeps out of your bruised knees, your scratched neck and your thighs with fingernails buried deep into flesh.

you've come to love blood, cherish it even.

especially if it's your own.

especially if it came from the punch of none other than your father.

left, right, left, right.

his punches were cruel and his kicks can easily crush bones into powder. he demands answers with every strike he delivers, he exudes an energy far more adrenaline based than yours. batman is methodical in the way he moves, the way he acts, and you're not; you're impulsive, you had no plans to counter the towering man— no counter for the brutal hits he lay upon you. you let him, you open every doorway world to beat your body black and blue, with red painting the canvas as a finishing touch.

he's stronger than you, and every time he bashes your head into the wall, the urge to spit into his face, to piss him off, to laugh at him and his Idiocracy; it all becomes stronger.

yet all you do was allow him multiple openings, denying yourself the pleasure of attempting to even take your abandoned gun at the corner and shoot at his cranium— you want him to suffer, even if it costs you your mobility by the near future, fuck it.

up, down, to the side, then an uppercut to your jaw and you're nearly depleted of anymore moves to counter. you want to seem like you've given up; but you want him pissed off, enough to punch you 'til blood seeps into the fibers of your mask. until your face starts bruising, until your nose breaks, until he finally rips your mask off and sees your face.

and he'll come to regret.

you shift to the side, and ignore the sting of your throat, the lull of your head and the soreness of your entire body.

because if you hadn't dodged, then your head would've left an imprint on the walls. you would've preferred that now, rather than the disgusting feeling of sentimentality that creeps into your heart at the implication that his blows were slowly, but surely, weakening.

he's holding back, you hold back a sneer.

as if he actually cares about you.

maybe he does, maybe he doesn't. you know he cares far more deeply for his enemies than he does you, and you hate how glad you are at the pride that finally, just finally are you being acknowledged. at the opposite end of his side, as enemies. but for once you can feel the care he offers others, most of which were nonexistent back when you were just some... nobody.

batman never kills; but he can hurt, he can injure, and he can destroy. and right now, you feel all the air leaving your body as the cloaked vigilante delivers the last punch to your ribcage.

you fall, on your hands and knees, a loud thump resounding through the empty abandoned building. all you hear are your crackling joints, and heavy breathing. heavy, like your eyelids, about to fall, about to shut until black encompasses your vision. if not for the remaining adrenaline coursing through your veins, you would've fainted— but you won't, you wouldn't, not until you see him, see his face.

the thumping in your heart beats louder, and your hands. god, they feel like jelly, it's burning, it's one step closer on collapsing under gravelly concrete and piercing skin into rocks. yet you're forbidden any time for grace, not when he lightly shoves you out of your position, and not when you fall to your sides, hands paralyzed, tears prickling against your cheeks at the pain that burns throughout your body.

"you don't deserve peace after shooting that family in front of that child, you know it."

his voice, domineering, absolutely fucking vibrating with a tremor of sheer anger. he directs his words at you, without empathy, without mercy. he wants you to learn to never mess with him in the streets of gotham. but you'll never... not until he notices you. fuck, you just want him to notice you. and now, he is, with utter vexation that causes a lump in your throat to form.

shit, you've never felt so happy.

it's when his tussled form — heavy, pitch-black boots slathered with crimson liquid — enters your sight that you cough, violently, out of breath, and you can feel it one second, then taste it in your tongue the next.

blood.

you grin, and slowly, ever-so eminently, did you spiral into a cackle. your throat gurgles crimson liquid, and yet it only builds into a cacophony of a broken record. you move your head, look through your nearly shredded domino mask, with so little strength to accompany you, to look at the man above you, eyes glinting with a glow never so alive until now.

you're genuinely so fucking happy.

batman, he who strikes fear into the hearts of gotham villains and civilians alike. he who protects the city at night. he whose name is said with wavering uncertainty— he's looking at you, only you.

'bruce wayne: my dad— is finally looking at me.'

and you! you're laughing, the sounds that emanate from your throat are so scratchy, so utterly decimated that it sounds like vultures feeding through a dead corpse; but you don't let your chuckles die down, because you're so, so happy.

he looks at you, with contempt, with disgust, you don't know; but you're still so overjoyed.

"y-yeah... it's me, i did it. are you proud of me...?" you ask as you look up, through the tears that flow out your eyes, through the grin that couldn't die down. he looks at you like you're insane, and you know he's confused, shifting uncomfortably as he gives someone a status update through the comms, his eyes never leaving your pathetic form—

you look at him like he means the world all throughout.

"call for red robin, i have one of the culprits," he orders through the intangible device, eyes squinting as he takes you in— you whose chuckles slowly calmed down, as your breathing finally becomes heavier, as blood, yours, seem to seep into clumsily made apparel. you, who bruce realized seem too oddly familiar, too small, too childish, whose moment of spiraling insanity is too damn innocent to ignore.

you're not like the typical rogue he encounters, no. and right before you finally allow sleep to overcome you, you muster the last of your energy, to stare back at him with shining eyes, expectant, and like a child's, you ask with the meekest voice.

"hey... dad, i have a surprise." scratchy, absolutely broken, yet spilling with joy, with... your last word right before you continue, bruce's heart thumps ever the slightest faster.

"take my mask off, please?"

crimson began to overtake your entire body, and bruce should've never complied with your... request, but as he kneels and finally gets a grasp of what you truly look like, he notices the frailness, the vulnerability, as if you were never built for... combat. with just how quickly you succumb to the depths of rest, with how oblivious you are to the fact that if it were anyone else, they would've killed you.

you're not properly trained, you fight out of impulse, and he knows it with just how swift you gave up midfight.

when he pulls the domino mask (which seems oddly inspired by the shape of... his vigilante partners, the robins...) off your face, did his heart finally hastened its pace, loud thumping crawling its way to his ears, his eyes registering your face: its form, its shape, your eyes, your nose—

all similar to his, all an amalgamation of your mother's, too.

no... wait, no.

it's not...

it's not his... child?

you?

your eyes, flickering one last time stared at him, softly, like that of a child who looks at their father with pride like nothing else. your hand, it shakes, it shivers, as your fingers find its way creeping to his hand, holding your mask. fingers so dainty, now pulverized bones lay atop his shivering hand, tenderly, as if trying to comfort the very same man who has nearly killed you.

batman— no, bruce looks at you. at what he's done, and only now did he realize his greatest mistake. a child, his child, one whose innocence retained through heinous acts, now a villain, whose actions were all a testimony to merely wanting their father's attention.

he failed you, his child. he failed to protect you, who he has never held up close until now— as your body is hastily taken into his arms. so small, so easily wrapped around his body, so unbefitting of committing criminal activity. now bloodied and laid into barren ground by their very own father.

bruce wayne never felt this much terror, for nearly killing his child.

this, this day marks his sin.

and you? dearest you feel like today is your greatest day.

crimson, nearly every part of you is stained with that putrid color.

yet blood has always been your best friend, no? and right now as you bleed into the arms of your father, you find yourself grateful that it is the last thing you see before a black cloak wraps around you, before black fills your entire line of sight.

short rant ahead: another author's note??? wow. yeah this was such a hard drabble to write. plsplspls leave a comment or some sort of input. anything will do. ive been so demotivated to write lately and i feel like anything i write is just, so bad 😭 like is my pacing good? are the emotions out of place? am i even doing this right ?? i don't know, and i feel like every time i post something i always put up expectations on myself that I should've done better so yeahh. is this attention seeking behavior? probably. but i don't get how people have come to like the stuff i write when i hate whatever i write hence why im in a constant cycle of hiatuses and short breaks. and really, it's just so hard to come into terms with things and i need input lest i accidentally get into a year or two of hiatus, lmaoo.

#🌷... yael's works #🧁... yael's misc.#series: again & again #concept: brutus #yandere dc #yandere batfam #yandere bruce wayne #yandere batman #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x male reader #yandere x female reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere angst #platonic yandere #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n

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jinwoosbabyboo · 1 month ago

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The School is Calling

You got a call about your kid(s) fighting at school ... this can't be good .... or is it? [Requested by: Anon]

Zayne

Principal: Your child got into a fight during lunch

MC: who started the fight?

Principal: That's not important the important thing is your daughter brutally beat up another child

Zayne: What was the fight about?

Principal: Another child took her fruit cup

MC: Is this the same kid who put slime in her hair two days ago?

Principal: Yes but-

Zayne: Is this the same kid who's been taking her notebooks for the last two weeks

Principal: well you see-

Zayne: This sounds like a case of bullying and it seems as though you and your staff have done little to discipline a student who has been bullying our daughter

Principal: I assure you we have a strict no bullying poli-

Zayne: It's not strict enough.

The principals lips snap shut.

Zayne: Now violence is not the answer, but this sounds like a case of self-defense you along with your staff need to handle the bullying problem you have in this school

Principal: ....

Zayne: Are we done here?

Principal: Yes we're done here sir sorry to bother you two

MC: Don't be sorry be better

Rafayel

Principal: Your children got into a fight during recess

Rafayel: Damn *turns to his kids* did you two win?

Your children rapidly nod with big smiles on their faces.

Rafayel: Hell yea! up top!

Principal: Sir this is not a good thing

Rafayel: Did they start it?

Principal: Well no

Rafayel: So they finished it?

Principal: Sir

Rafayel: Good talk ... tell your students to leave my kids alone now if we're done here im taking them to get ice cream

Rafayel walks outside with the twins in tow and finds you leaning against the hood of the car.

MC: So?

Rafayel: They didn't start it they finished it and they won

MC: That's what I like to hear ... Ice cream?

Rafayel & the twins: ICE CREAM !

Xavier

Principal: Your child got into a fight during P.E.

MC: Who started it?

Principal: That's not important here

Xavier: Answer the question.

Principal: ........The other kid shoved your child into the wall

Xavier: Which explains the bruise on his elbow

Principal: Your child then proceeded to punch the other kid in the mouth knocking his tooth out

Xavier: Sounds like self defense

Principal: Your son busted that kids lip sir

MC: Maybe that kid should've kept his hands off our son

Principal: We can't have your son fighting it goes against everything we stand for

Xavier: My son has told you and your staff multiple times this kid was being mean to him and you've done nothing

Principal: We've done everything we can

Xavier: No you haven't you let it slide until he stood up for himself and showed that kid that his actions have consequences we're done here

Sylus

MC: I just got a call from the school, but I won't be able to make it up there in time Sylus: I'll go I'm not busy MC: Okay let me know how it goes

Principal: Im sorry to inform you that we're going to have to suspend your daughter

Sylus: Why.

Principal: She tied up a student and stuffed him in a locker

Sylus: Why.

Principal:*mumbling* He .... He ripped one of her braids out

Sylus: Speak up.

Principal: Another student pulled her hair and removed a braid by accident

Sylus: If I do recall my daughter has reported this kid pulling her hair multiple times

Principal: Yes but we can't have her fighting

Sylus: She didn't fight .... she overpowered him and showed their difference in strength

Principal: but-

Sylus: You're lucky she doesn't like picking on the weak ... don't bother me or her mother with these trivial matters again ... lets go little dove

MC: How did it go? Sylus: Just a friendly chat nothing serious MC: What did she do? Sylus: Made me proud

#love and deepspace #sylus love and deepspace #sylus #lnds sylus #love and deepspace sylus #lads #lads rafayel #lads xavier #lads zayne #lads sylus #lnds #lnds rafayel #lnds zayne #lnds xavier #zayne love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace #nikaaaaimagine

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sttoru · 6 months ago

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⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. trying to get your cold boyfriend to crack a smile !

tags. toji fushiguro x female reader. fluff, suggestive at the end. reader gets called ‘girl, doll (face)’

“you should smile some more,” you comment unexpectedly as the television runs in the background. toji raises an eyebrow, amused yet curious at the way you interrupted the peaceful atmosphere.

your sluggish lover looks down at you as you sit up on his lap. his arms loosen up around your waist, though his manly hands don’t leave their favorite spot—your ass. toji gives it a squeeze, huffing at the way you’re blocking his sight with your head, “what ‘re ya on, girl?”

he figures it’s just you trying to strike up a silly little conversation again, for the sake of entertainment. he tilts his head to the side so he could continue watching the show playing on the big screen.

your hands come to cup his face. your palms are actively being prickled by his stubble, the man not having bothered to shave this morning. not that you’re complaining. you love it when toji leaves that stubble on his face. it gives him a more manly look.

“smileeeee,” you exclaim and use both your index fingers to turn the corners of his mouth upwards. his lips are morphed into an awkward, forced smile that makes you frown.

you secretly hoped that toji would go along with your request, but he doesn’t. that same expressionless face stares right back at you. his ‘smile’ instantly disappears the moment you drop your hands to your sides.

the black-haired man runs his fingers up your waist. and arms. he eventually pinches your cheeks for a second, properly positioning your body so he could watch the television in peace. toji places his chin on your shoulder, half lidded eyes lazily following the people on screen.

“i wanna see you smile again, c’mon,” you whine and try to push toji’s head back, but he stubbornly refuses. he easily overpowers you and pins your wrists down against your sides, nearly crushing you in a ‘hug’.

he takes a deep breath and sniffs your perfume. he places a quick kiss on your throat, thinking it’d pacify you for now.

“i would if y’ could make me laugh, doll,” toji answers in a gruff voice. he falls silent again as he’s too focused on the show playing.

you frown at his comment and can’t help but feel slightly offended. you roll your eyes and push back from toji’s tight embrace, if that’s what you can even call it. you pout and cross your arms over your chest. you stare at him, his green eyes glancing back at you for a second.

seeing you get all sulky because of what’s supposed to have been a lighthearted comment, is adorable. though toji doesn’t say that stuff out loud.

“you’re saying i’m not funny?” you ask. it’s more of a rhetorical question. your partner shrugs and yawns, one hand of his sneakily slipping under your shirt. his meaty fingers glide up to your bra, tracing the outline.

it’s another action of his in attempt to distract your mind from this entire conversation. however, it fails as you swat his hand away. toji clicks his tongue and gently swats you back— resulting into a mini fight between the two of you.

your slaps against his biceps may seem hard to you, but to the bulky man they’re child’s play. it feels like nothing, while you’re trying your best to stand up for yourself. toji’s revenge smacks are light taps against your bum and hands.

he’s clearly not putting in any effort unlike you.

“if that’s how you wanna take it, then yeah, y’ ain’t funny,” toji adds fuel to the fire, amused by how upset you’re getting. he doesn’t mean anything he’s saying; he’s simply interested in your adorable reactions. you look cute—thinking you’re doing something to him while you slap his bicep as response to his sneaky remarks.

you huff and roll your eyes. the little unserious tussle between toji and you continues. “bastard,” you answer and stick your tongue out to him. your lover lets out a puff of air through his nose at your weak attempt of insulting him.

he indulges you again.

“what’ddya say there?” toji questions in a low tone. he easily grips your wrists and flips you over until your back hits the soft sofa. your hands are gathered above your head and his face is close to yours.

that doesn’t stop you from being bratty, however, no matter how intimating toji tries to act. his black bangs brush against your forehead due to the proximity between you both.

“bastaaaaaard, you’re an asshole,” you shamelessly continue, your voice echoing in his ear. the black-haired man stares at you with a blank stare for a couple seconds, letting you blow off some steam.

you don’t know how cute you are right now to him. toji could just eat you up right then and there. having his girl try to act fierce around him is such an endearing sight.

without knowing it, toji’s scarred lips curl up, a faint smile appearing on his face. he doesn’t bother moving or setting your hands free.

“heh, right—i am, aye?” your lover nods and places a chaste kiss against your jawline, biting that same place not a second later. he lifts his head up and stares down at you with that same subtle smile.

you’re a bit shocked by the fact that he actually smiled. you love seeing toji show hints of happiness, which he rarely does. but when he smiles, you know it’s going to be a beautiful sight.

and it sure is now.

you’re too caught up staring at his handsome face to realise that that cherished smile has turned into a teasing grin. toji’s free hand slides up to grab your bottom lip, pulling back and letting go to watch it bounce back in place. his warm breath gently hits your cheek and you feel a shiver run down your spine;

“y’know if y’ want to, i can show ya how much of an asshole i really can be, doll face.”

#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #toji x you #toji x y/n #jjk fluff #toji fluff

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poguehearted77 · 1 month ago

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After Hours

summary: Rafe lets his jealousy get the best of him and it pisses you off, but he makes it up to you after hours.

"Y/n, he's doing it again" Carly whispers over your shoulder as you work on drying off the bar glasses and putting them back on the shelf. You sigh on the outside but your insides warm at the thought of Rafe staring at the back of your figure. This is how it always goes.

He always wants to see you, claiming he can't get enough while you pull away, dedicated to your job. So Rafe decides why not kill two birds with one stone and come see you at work.

Unfortunately, wherever Rafe goes, his posse follows, and considering they're notorious party animals, they can't seem to hold their liquor. "Hey, Let's get another round goin' over here!" Topper shouts, words slurred and eyes heavy-lidded. Anyone within a mile radius could hear the cheers that came from their table at the announcement, and it made you dread going over there, but it's your job.

Not that you hated where you worked, it was right in the heart of figure eight, not too far from where you lived and it pays well most days, but drunk kooks pay even better.

As you walked over with a tray of shots, their hollers grew louder in volume and the environment made you nervous. Not because of the noise at their table, but because of the silence that Rafe held as you placed everything down.

His quiet, blue gaze lingered over your curves as you smiled at the boys. "Wow, you're just too pretty to be working at this hour. How about you pull up a chair and join us?" Topper's hand gently holds your upper arm and Rafe finally speaks up.

Prompted by a flare of jealousy, "Get your hands off her, Top." Rafe's voice overpowers the table to a still silence that even startled you. Topper immediately moves his hand as Kelce 'Oohs'. "Shit man, my bad." He apologizes. Rafe sends you an apologetic glance that you ignore before hastily collecting your tray and returning to the bar.

But it was too late. You were already upset.

The bar had just let out its last customer and you worked on wiping down the tables, most of the lights off and the blinds shut. Some street lights managed to seep through the cracks in the shutters which left golden shadows on the black marble countertops.

It takes a knock on the door to finally pull your head up from the task on hand where you are locking eyes with Rafe on the other side of the glass. You stepped towards the door, not unlocking it.

Your arms crossed and your expression conveyed what he already knew. "Open the door." Voice muffled but you still hear him loud and clear, you huff, knowing he would break the door down if he needed to. You opened it.

"You know I'm not a fucking child, right Rafe?" You sneer, and he locks the door behind him. "I know that. I just hate seeing other guys hit on you. It does things to me- shit makes me just wanna-" his expression contorts, unable to describe the emotion.

"I know, but you gotta trust me. You think I like when that bitch Holly from the yacht club has her hands on you? No, but I trust you." You throw the cloth down on the bar.

Watching as Rafe rounded the island to be on your side, finger under your chin and tilting your head up to look at him. His stone-cold blue eyes run warm as he grins down at you, "I don't give a fuck what Holly does, cuz at the end of the day all I'm thinkin' bout is you."

He leans down, his breath ghosting over your lips. Just barely giving you a taste of what you so desperately need. "I still don't forgive you." You quip, hardly able to step away before his big hand is wrapped around your neck, a light pressure applied, a warning.

"You think I'm lying? I'll show you who the fuck this dick belongs to. How about that, yeah?"

In a blur of heated kisses and hot touches, your clothes were scattered across the floor and your bra had landed somewhere on the rack, forgotten as Rafe fucked you mindless over the counter.

His thick cock pummeling in and out of your soaked cunt. He grabs a fistful of your dark curls, pulling you up so your back can meet his chest. "Now tell me, baby. Who does this pussy belong to, huh?" He hisses through clenched teeth, overwhelmed by the tight grip your walls provided him.

"M-me." You moan pathetically and it makes him laugh. He lets you go, and your upper half falls back onto the counter unceremoniously. He pulled out slowly, all the way until only the tip remained buried. "Try again."

He plummets back inside your core, his tip kissing your cervix and you scream, eyes filling with tears as you blabber, begging him not to stop. "Let's try that again, yeah? Who does this pussy belong to."

"You! You-- fuck! It's yours, all yours. No one else's."

He grins, he already knew this, of course. He just liked hearing you say it.

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misswynters · 4 days ago

Text

Steel and sunshine

sevika x ditz! reader / short drabble

no warnings just you being annoying and sevika putting up with you

requested by @gravegoer <3

Zauns sprawling streets were filled with the hum of industry, the hiss of steam, and the faint green glow of shimmer pouring from narrow alleyways. The air hung heavy with a metallic tang, and the rattle of machinery from the Undercity’s workshops created a chaotic symphony. It was chaotic, grimy, and dangerous. A place that seemed to churn out desperation as naturally as it did smog. In the heart of it all, Sevika sat at her usual corner of The Last Drop, nursing a glass of something strong enough to peel paint.

Her steel arm rested on the table, catching the flicker of neon lights overhead. She was a picture of quiet intensity: sharp eyes scanning the bar, her jaw set in irritation at the chaos around her. She could handle a fight breaking out or someone trying to swindle her. What she couldn’t handle, though, was the sound of your voice cutting through the din like sunshine piercing a storm cloud. “Sevika!”

She groaned quietly, closing her eyes for a moment as she prepared herself for the whirlwind that was you. When she opened them, there you were, skipping toward her with all the oblivious cheer of someone who didn’t belong in a place like this. “What now?” she muttered, her tone already laced with exasperation.

You plopped down into the chair across from her, beaming as if you hadn’t just walked through Zaun’s most dangerous streets without a care in the world. “You’ll never guess what I found today!”

“Let me guess,” Sevika said, her voice flat. “Something useless?”

You gasped, clutching your chest like she’d just shot you. “How dare you? It’s not useless!” You rummaged through your bag, your fingers brushing past who-knows-what before triumphantly pulling out a small, rusted music box. Its paint was chipped, and the mechanism looked like it hadn’t worked in years. “Look! Isn’t it cute?”

Sevika raised an eyebrow, her patience already teetering on the edge. “You’re risking your life out there for this?”

“Of course!” you said, completely unfazed. “I thought you’d like it.”

“I don’t like junk,” she said flatly, though her gaze lingered on the object longer than she’d admit.

You leaned forward, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’re lying. I can tell you secretly think it’s cool.”

Sevika groaned, her metal fingers tapping against the table in frustration. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Keep me around forever?” you said with a grin, propping your chin on your hand.

“You’re exhausting,” she muttered, though the corners of her mouth twitched upward in a reluctant smile.

Not long after, Sevika found herself walking alongside you through the crowded streets of Zaun, her broad frame serving as a shield against the jostling crowd. She wasn’t sure how she’d ended up in this situation again, but you had a way of dragging her along. Your sheer persistence overpowering her better judgment.

“Did you eat today?” she asked abruptly, her sharp tone betraying the faintest hint of concern.

“Oh! I had some bread earlier,” you said brightly. “And maybe a candy bar?”

Sevika stopped dead in her tracks, her glare making you shrink slightly. “That’s not food. Come on.”

You blinked, confused. “Where are we going?”

“To get you something real before you pass out,” she grumbled, taking your arm and steering you toward a food stall. The smell of sizzling dumplings filled the air as Sevika ordered for you, her tone curt but efficient. She handed the vendor a few coins before shoving the steaming plate into your hands.

“Sit,” she ordered, pointing to a nearby bench.

You obeyed, settling onto the seat and swinging your legs like a child as you dug in. The first bite was heavenly, and you made a small noise of appreciation that made Sevika smirk despite herself.

“You’re amazing, Sev,” you said between mouthfuls, your words slightly muffled.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” she scolded, sitting beside you.

You swallowed quickly, flashing her a wide grin. “Sorry. You’re just so good at taking care of me.”

“Someone has to,” she muttered, shaking her head.

“You’re like a big, grumpy teddy bear,” you teased, nudging her side.

She gave you a flat look. “A teddy bear?”

“Yeah! You act all tough, but deep down, you’re just a big softie.”

“Keep talking like that, and I’ll leave you here,” she warned, though the faintest trace of amusement lingered in her voice.

Later, back at Sevika’s apartment, the quiet hum of Zaun’s nightlife served as background noise. The space was sparse and functional, just like her. But tucked into corners and sitting on shelves were small reminders of your influence. There was a cracked vase you’d insisted on saving, a tiny ceramic dog you swore looked just like her, and now the rusted music box, which you’d proudly placed on the shelf next to the others.

“Look at it,” you said, stepping back to admire your handiwork. “It’s perfect.”

“It’s junk,” Sevika replied, though her tone lacked the usual bite.

“Sentimental junk,” you corrected, turning to grin at her.

She leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “You’re lucky I put up with you.”

“You’re lucky I’m so charming,” you shot back, sticking out your tongue.

Sevika shook her head, unable to keep the smirk off her face. “Ridiculous.”

You plopped onto her worn-out couch, kicking off your shoes and making yourself comfortable. “So, what do we do now?”

“I work. You stay out of the way,” she said, already moving toward her workbench.

“Boring,” you replied, flipping through a magazine you’d found on the coffee table. The two of you fell into a companionable silence, Sevika tinkering with her mechanical arm while you lazily read. But after a while, your thoughts drifted, and the question that had been nagging at you all day finally slipped out.

“Sevika?” You said softly as your eyes still on the maganize that you were reading.

“What?” she replied as she continued to tinker her metal arm, completely immersed in what she was doing. “Do you think I’m annoying?”

The question caught her off guard, and she turned to look at you. Putting the tool that was on her hand on the desk. “Where the hell is this coming from?”

You shrugged, suddenly finding the magazine very interesting. “I dunno. I just… sometimes I feel like I get on your nerves.”

Sevika sighed, setting down her tools and walking over to sit beside you. “You do,” she said bluntly, making you gape at her. Before you could protest, she added, “But I don’t mind.”

“Really?” you asked, your voice small.

“Really,” she said, her tone softer now. “You keep things… interesting.”

A slow smile spread across your face. “You’re such a softie.”

“Don’t push it,” she warned, though there was no malice in her words.

You leaned your head against her shoulder, letting the cool metal of her arm press against your cheek. “Thanks, Sev.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered, reaching up to ruffle your hair. “Just don’t get used to it.”

But you both knew it was already too late.

banner: @anitalenia

taglist: @cewl-casper @hutaotown @lunatakashi18 @shinyshayminflower @pipirka827363829 @dragonfly41777 @themostlesbianever @abbyssgf @kissyslut @ayedomino0 @amenazaaaa @usedmilkdud @diffusebread @xxblairslairxx @marinayadayada @chx-rrryc0la @komoriiis @beewwebb @pitstopsapphic @kylorey25 @cestlaprincesa @xxblairslairxx @m00nd0v3 @arevik2345 @thesevi0lentdelights

#arcane #arcane masterlist #sevika fics ⟠ ࣪ .#sevika x you #sevika x reader #sevika arcane #arcane sevika #sevika #sevika headcanon #arcane characters #arcane x y/n #arcane x you #arcane x reader #arcane fluff #arcane fic #arcane fanfic #arcane fandom

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covenofagatha · 4 days ago

Text

Two professors and a student (Part 5)

Word count: 3200

Warnings: 3k works of pure smut, fingering, oral, strap on, blow job, squirting, overstimulation, vibrators, probably missing something lol

You can barely breathe by the time you reach their bedroom. Even though you just had an orgasm, you are still desperate for more.

Seems like they are, too.

The door is thrown open by Agatha, who clearly doesn't care what it hits and she points you to the chair in the corner of their spacious room.

Wordlessly, you obey and go sit. You vaguely feel like a child who just got put in time-out. Rio enters shortly after and Agatha grabs her waist and pulls her into a kiss, just as hot as the one from downstairs. You whimper and rest your hands on your thighs, resisting the urge to touch yourself. You can be good.

Agatha pushes Rio down onto the bed and they work together to get her pants off.

“Now I’m going to show you what Rio likes,” Agatha says, looking over at you for the first time since Rio came into the room. “And if you can be our good little student and pay attention and make her cum, we’ll reward you. Sounds good?”

You gulp and shift your weight in the chair, nodding eagerly. Your fingers fidget against your legs. Agatha doesn’t miss the movement, because of course she doesn’t, and grins.

“And one more thing. No touching yourself,” she adds and your jaw drops. “Don’t pout, baby, it’s not a good look on you.”

She angles Rio on the bed so you can see her fully and pushes her legs open. Even from where you are sitting, you can tell that she has soaked through her underwear.

“Fuck,” you whisper under your breath, so desperate to feel her, to taste her.

Agatha has to peel them off her and then she tosses them over her shoulder without even looking. They land squarely in your lap and you have to take a deep breath to collect yourself before you can reach down and touch them.

There’s enough wetness that you’re able to collect some on your fingertips and without thinking, you raise your hand to your mouth to taste. You instantly moan and want nothing more than to taste from the source.

But Agatha has got that covered for now. You watch transfixed as she bends down and licks up Rio’s slit, swirling her tongue when she reaches her clit. Rio gasps and you’re afraid you might be dripping onto the chair.

“Agatha,” she moans and entangles her fingers into the older woman’s dark hair.

Agatha slides a finger into Rio while flicking her tongue against her clit and you clench around nothing. You are positively aching at this point and want nothing more than to touch yourself.

But you want to be their good girl, so you dig your fingertips into the upholstery so hard you think you might be tearing into it a little and fight the urge to grind against the seat.

Rio’s legs are starting to clamp around Agatha’s head so Agatha practically wrenches them apart so you can see even more. She turns back to look at you for a second, face glistening with Rio’s wetness.

“She likes when you’re rough with it,” Agatha says, smirking as your jaw slackens. “Scrape your teeth against her clit and fuck her hard with two fingers.”

She does just that when she focuses back on Rio and Rio’s back arches off the bed, a loud sound escaping from her mouth. Your head lolls back against the chair but your eyes never stray from the two of them. You think a single touch to your clit could make you cum right now.

“Agatha,” Rio chants, hips bucking against her face, trying to draw her fingers in deeper if possible. You can tell Agatha is hitting her spot just right based on Rio’s gasp with every thrust. You’re squirming now, the ache inside you becoming painful now.”Fuck, I’m going to cum.”

It’s those words that remind you of listening to them have sex over the phone. The memory of hearing her say it then, and now watching her say it, overpowers your brain and you lightly skim your fingertip against your clit without thinking. The featherlight touch is enough to make you moan involuntarily because of how sensitive you’ve become and the instant you do, you know you’ve fucked up.

It’s like time slows down. Agatha stops what she’s doing to Rio and they both turn their eyes toward you, nasty smirks on their faces. You yank your hand away from your cunt, heartbeat racing.

“What did I tell you, baby girl?” Agatha purrs.

“I’m sorry,” you say lamely. “I couldn’t help it.”

“Come here,” she orders. You obviously obey. Agatha roughly grips the back of your neck and bends you over the bed so your face is only a few inches away from Rio’s pussy. She takes off your dress and your underwear, throwing them somewhere across the room. “You’re going to show us if you were even paying attention or if you were just thinking about yourself.”

You’re almost vibrating with need and you nod eagerly. Agatha leans over your body and you get goosebumps by how it feels.

“I’m going to spank you ten times for breaking the one rule I gave you and you better make her cum before then,” she whispers dangerously into your ear. “Understand?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, already dripping with anticipation. She pulls away and you miss her body heat against yours. She rubs your ass in preparation and you grab Rio’s thighs and haul her to you. You don’t spare any time before licking up her slit hard. Her hand flies down to grip your hair just as the first slap comes.

You groan, the impact pushing you further into Rio’s pussy and you hear her whimper at the resounding vibration from your sound. You’ve never felt more turned on in your life.

“One,” you hear Agatha say behind you and you reach your hand up so you can fuck a finger into Rio. Her walls instantly bear down around you and she is so wet and hot. You could die right here, right now.

You begin to thrust and curl your finger, tongue swirling around her clit, when the second spank hits. This time, your reaction is more controlled and you keep focusing on giving the other woman pleasure. Rio clenches around your finger and her hips are grinding on your face, trying to get more from you.

Three and four follow soon after.

“Better hurry up, sweetheart,” Agatha taunts, cupping your pussy to collect your wetness and you almost stop because it feels so good. This time, when she hits you, the sound is a wet smack. You can feel the stickiness when she removes her hand. “Five.”

You pick up the pace with Rio. Your jaw and wrist are starting to ache and your ass is burning, but you wouldn’t dream of stopping.

She spanks you again and this time, it’s rougher than the ones before. You gasp into Rio’s pussy and her fingers tighten in your hair. You can tell she’s close.

“Six.”

You slide a second finger into Rio, curl them hard, and scrape your teeth roughly against her clit, like Agatha said she likes.

Rio cums around her fingers with a loud moan, riding them and your tongue through her orgasm. Agatha is chuckling behind you, soothing your ass with her hands.

“Good girl,” she says, impressed. Rio has gone limp and you can hear her breathing hard. Agatha pulls you back up by your hair and turns you around to kiss you filthily. She sucks on your tongue, moaning at the taste of Rio. Her hand comes up to wipe your cheeks, but instead of cleaning you, she just smears Rio’s juices even more all over your face. “Open.”

You made an O with your mouth and she shoves two fingers inside, fucking your mouth. She presses hard on your tongue.

“Such a slut for us,” Rio says and you nod your head around Agatha’s fingers in agreement.

“Here’s the deal,” Agatha says, pulling her fingers out of your mouth with a pop. “I told you that you had ten spanks and you made her cum in six. So as a reward, those extra four will be orgasms.”

Your eyes widen. You’ve never cum that many times before consecutively. And you already came once downstairs. You know better than to ask if that counts toward the four, though.

“Rio, do you want a turn with her?” Agatha asks the woman now perched up on her elbows on the bed.

“Yeah,” Rio says hoarsely. She climbs over to you and pulls you in for a breathtaking kiss. When she pulls away, Agatha is laying against the headboard, legs open, eyes beckoning.

You know what she wants you to do. Just like her dream.

You get on the bed and crawl on your hands and knees until you’re in front of her and then turn around so your back is against her front. Rio situates herself and pries open your thighs. She laughs at how wet you’ve become and bends down to lightly blow on your pussy lips. The air makes your hips jump. You know it won’t take long for you to cum at all.

And then her tongue is on you and you keen embarrassingly loud. Agatha’s lips find the expanse of your neck and suck, fingers coming up to roll your nipples. Your head falls back and hits the headboard, hands clasping onto Agatha’s thighs and nails digging into the skin.

“Fuck,” you swear, the stimulation overloading you. “Rio.”

It doesn’t take much more for you to cum with both of them touching you, especially considering how wet you had been. Rio doesn’t even give you time to come down before she thrusts two fingers in you and your back arches off Agatha’s chest.

“Fuck, oh my god,” you babble as she mercilessly fucks you, Agatha laughing and biting the juncture of your shoulder and neck.

You cum again in less than two minutes.

This time, she slowly pulls out of you and you sag against Agatha, who presses a kiss to the side of your forehead.

“That’s two,” Rio says, gleefully grinning up at you. “Halfway, doll.” You huff out a breath and close your eyes for a second. Your clit is throbbing with sensitivity. Agatha reaches down to press against it and you jerk in her arms.

“Can’t,” you whine pathetically. “Too much.”

“Oh, baby,” Agatha coos in your ear. “You should’ve thought about that before breaking the rules.”

Rio rolls over on the bed to open the nightstand. She pulls out a vibrator and a dildo attached to a harness. Despite how spent you are, you clench around nothing at the sight.

“Which one do you want first, doll?” She asks, motioning between the two toys.

“The strap, please,” you whimper, shakily pointing. Rio’s face lights up in obvious delight and you feel Agatha shift behind you, gently pushing you forward so she can move. You watch, rapt with attention, as she undresses and steps into the harness. Rio helps her and kisses her hotly.

“Get it ready for me?” Agatha whispers and Rio sinks down to her knees automatically. Your jaw falls open as Rio engulfs the strap-on in her mouth, head moving up and down the length. It’s one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen in your life. Agatha moans like she can feel it and guides Rio with a hand on the back of her head. When she deems it sufficiently wet, she pulls Rio off and climbs back on the bed.

She resumes her position against the headboard and pats her thighs. You wearily sit on her lap and she holds your hips and helps you grind against the strap-on.

“You’re going to be a good girl and ride me, okay sweetheart?”

You nod and position the tip at your opening. Her hands rest on your hips as you slowly drop down her length, pausing when you finally bottom out. Your breath comes out in stutters because of how full you are. Rio straddles Agatha’s legs behind you and reaches around to rub at your still-tender clit. It makes you more comfortable and you begin to slowly move up and down, getting comfortable with the fullness.

The two women do barely little to help, Agatha choosing to recline with her hands behind her head and watch you appreciatively, and Rio thumbing at your clit with one hand and toying with your nipple with the other.

It doesn’t take long for you to get tired though. The toy is perfectly hitting every spot in your pussy but your bounces become shorter and shallower as you try but fail to pick up the pace.

“Can’t, Aggie, please,” you beg, slowing down and opting to simply roll your hips against her.

“Poor baby, you need us to do everything for you, don’t you?” She asks, hands coming back to stroke your thighs. Even that small touch adds stimulation. It feels like your whole body is a tight livewire about to explode.

“Please,” you whine and she and Rio lift you off the strap-on. It falls out of you with a wet plop and you can see it glisten. You feel empty.

Agatha moves her hands to your hips and helps you turn over so you’re on your hands and knees. She rubs your sore ass and then slides the strap-on up and down your slit, getting it even wetter.

“Beg,” Rio says, coming to sit in front of you so your eyes are on her. Agatha dips the tip inside you and then pulls it out almost immediately. You feel tears prick your eyes.

“Please, Agatha, please fuck me,” you whimper. Rio grabs hold of your hair and pulls it tightly.

“I know you can do better than that.” She looks behind you and you imagine Agatha smirking at her.

“Need to be fucked so bad, please, please, I want your cock in me, need you to fuck me so well,” you ramble, more words spewing out of your mouth but you’re so far blissed out you don’t even know what you’re saying. Rio nods and Agatha pushes in.

You fall forward onto your elbows and let out a loud moan as she stretches you out again. Your head falls down and your walls clamp down on the toy. “Fuck,” you cry. She sets a relentless pace from the beginning, her hips making a sound every time they bump against your ass. Rio grabs your throat and squeezes, taking all the breath out of your lungs. She drags you into a kiss like that, never removing her hand. Agatha’s finger swipes at your clit and combined with her fast strokes and Rio’s tongue in your mouth, you cum all over her cock in no time. You’re practically sobbing with pleasure at this point.

And you still have one more.

Agatha stays inside you until you finally come down and then she slowly pulls out. Her soothing touches to your lower back make your stomach warm despite your worn-out state. Rio gives you one last kiss and pulls away.

“You okay, baby girl?” She asks gently.

“Yeah, just a lot,” you answer weakly.

“Do you think you can give us one more?”

You know that you can say no and they’ll stop. But this has been the best sex of your life and you would happily spend the rest of your days in bed with them. You think this is what you’ve always wanted.

“I can do it,” you affirm, voice sounding more confident than you’d expected.

“You know,” Rio starts. “Agatha hasn’t cum yet. And doll, since you did such a nice job eating me out earlier, I think it’s only fair that Agatha sits on your face while I make you cum one last time.” You moan at the thought and nod eagerly.

Agatha smirks and turns you over so you’re laying down, back on the bed. You know you must look like a fucking mess. She moves over your body and before she puts her pussy into your waiting mouth, she pushes strands of sweaty hair out of your face and says, “Just be a good girl for me and let me use you, okay?”

She doesn’t have to ask twice. You open your mouth and stick out your tongue and with a genuine smile, she drops down onto your waiting mouth. She is so fucking wet that the entire bottom half of your face is practically coated with her already.

You hear the buzzing from the vibrator and you tense in anticipation, but nothing could prepare you for when Rio holds it against you.

You buck up so much Agatha is almost thrown forward and you don’t think you’ve ever moaned so loudly. Rio began with one of the higher settings and it’s so intense. Tears fall from your eyes as Agatha grinds even harder on your face and Rio is unwavering in pressing the vibrator to your clit. Noises and gasps fall out of your mouth without you even realizing and you think it must be making the woman on top of you feel amazing because her rhythm starts to stutter and she’s getting louder.

You think you might be cursing but it’s hard to tell with the toe-curling vibrations and Agatha’s pussy in your mouth. You don’t think you are capable of forming a single coherent thought right now. Your legs are thrashing, your hips are jumping, and you think you might pass out from this.

“Please,” you hear, rather than feel, yourself say. Your orgasm is approaching, but this time, something feels different. There’s a tension building up in your stomach and it vaguely feels like you have to pee.

Rio leans over to suck your nipple into her mouth and presses the vibrator even harder against you and you cum explosively with a cry, which triggers Agatha’s orgasm. Rio keeps the toy against you and you have to physically close your legs and pull away because the stimulation hurts.

Agatha climbs off your face and you look down at Rio, who is literally covered in wetness, wearing a smug grin.

“What–?” You ask, not really sure of the words.

“Have you ever squirted before, doll?” She asks and your mouth falls slightly open. You shake your head. You didn’t even know you could do that. “I bet you’ve also never cum that many times either?” Another head shake.

“You did so good for us, baby,” Agatha says, hand cupping your face and leaning down to chastely kiss your lips. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” you say. “Wanna sleep now.”

“Let’s get you cleaned up and into some clothes and then we can go to bed, okay?” Agatha being soft warms your heart and you lean into her touch.

“Okay,” you agree happily. Rio brings over a washcloth and gingerly cleans your pussy off, smirking the tiniest bit at your wince. Agatha helps you into an oversized purple T-shirt and a soft pair of underwear.

“Do you need anything else?” Agatha asks softly. You shake your head in a state of complete blissfulness. She presses a kiss to your forehead and Rio pulls the sheets over the three of you.

With you in the middle and both of them draping a comforting arm over you, you fall asleep faster than you ever have.

#agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #agatha x you #agatha harkness smut #agatha harkness x you #kathryn hahn x reader #agatha smut #agatha all along #agatha x rio #agathario x reader #agathario #rio vidal x reader #rio vidal x agatha harkness

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