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on-a-lucky-tide · 3 days ago

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Johnny's knee hurts. Price helps him feel better.

cw: messy blowjob. For the @continentcakeshop, who love Johnny.

Johnny shifted his foot for the third time in ten minutes and felt the now familiar twinge through his knee. He couldn't decide what was worse; the constant dull ache of keeping it stationary, like it needed to click, which was driving him batshit insane, or the sharp burn of a quick stretch that made his entire body jolt, knocking the table he was sharing with the boss man himself.

“You broken?” Price asked, tapping the blunt nib of his biro against the manilla folder by his form.

“Naw, sir. Jus’ me bum knee. S’givin’ me grief cause it's cald outside.”

“You been t’ the physio?”

“Not fer a few weeks. No time, ye know…” Johnny gestured aimlessly at the paperwork in front of him. When he'd signed up at fifteen and nine months, he hadn't expected to spend so long with a damn pen in his hand instead of a firearm.

Price hummed and Johnny watched his whiskers twitch as they tended to do when he was mulling something over. Then came the full face grimace as he considered his options. The biro clattered to the table moments later, the chair legs scraping against the concrete floor. “Olrigh’, can't ‘ave ya fallin’ behind. Keks down, leg up ‘ere.”

Johnny blinked owlishly, first at Price's hands as they patted his lap and then at the intense blue eyes watching him from beneath thick eyebrows. “Come again.”

“C’mon, MacTavish. Don't ‘ave all day. Boot off, drop ‘em. Quick rub down will make it feel better.”

Oh, he wasn't taking the piss. Well, shit. Johnny glanced at Price's hands again, big, weathered, with long clever fingers and a scar across the knuckles from where Price had skinned them open on the steel-plated jaw of a Kortac operator. The thought of having them on his body in any capacity made a sudden surge of heat fill his belly.

His knee gave another unrepentant throb and he stood awkwardly to undo his belt, jamming the heel of his boot against the toe of the other to kick it off before loosening the laces. He managed to slide his leg out, the knee support catching on his waistband, before slumping back into the chair. His foot hovered off the floor, suddenly conscious of how fuckin’ filthy his sock was. And how tight his boxers were.

“Ain't got all night,” Price said. “Stop bein’ a pansy. Ain't gonna ‘urt ya.”

Johnny scowled and extended his leg, setting it gingerly across Price's lap while his hands cupped over his crotch. “Naw one says pansy any more, old man.”

Price raised an eyebrow as he hooked Johnny's knee support and coaxed it down his calf muscle, bunching it at his ankle as he wrinkled his nose. “This sock ever seen a washin’ machine?”

“Oh feck, now ye really sound like me pa.”

“I was eleven years old when you were born, I ain't yer dad, MacTavish.” Price chucked the support and the filthy sock onto the floor and ran his thumbs up the sides of Johnny’s leg, pressing into the swollen ligaments and tendons either side of his patella. The sensation sat keenly on the threshold of pain and pleasure; Price couldn't press too hard without oil, but his pressure was damn perfect.

“Oh, fuck… mmm, aye, but I c’n still call ye dad–”

“If ya finish that sentence, ‘m gonna dislocate yer knee cap.”

“Aye, sir."

Johnny tried to stay quiet. He yapped when he was nervous and Jesus wept he was nervous now. Not because it hurt - god, fuck, Price’s hands were a damn dream - but because the heat in his belly was spreading out through the rest of him; a warm, fuzziness humming just below his skin. As the dull ache ebbed into a low throb, Johnny’s chin tilted down and his eyes lidded. He watched those strong hands work, manipulating his muscles and tendons like putty, pressing to and fro in easy glides that left Johnny lightheaded.

Johnny bit back a moan. Price was good. He knew what he was doing. Didn't stay only around the knee, but rubbed behind it and slightly down the calf to ease the resulting tension from where the rest of his leg was overcompensating. That was all fine… it was when those thumbs went up his thigh, one on the hairy outside, the other up the milky soft skin of the inner, that the whole arrangement got a bit spicy.

Johnny was getting hard. Proper hard, not just a cheeky little chubby. He could feel the wet patch in the cotton where his leaking tip was pushing up against his palm. Fuck, fuck. His eyes squeezed shut, and he tried to distract himself. Mentally listing off the steps for stripping a gun, the ingredients for a pipe bomb, the starting fifteen for Man City–

“Ev’ryfin olrigh’, Soap?”

Johnny’s eyes blinked open and he realised he'd been damn panting. Price hadn't stopped though. One hand had wandered a little higher, massaging his thigh muscle while the other cupped beneath his calf. Just a little higher and he could slide his cock into his captain's palm. Those callouses would feel unreal against the silky skin of his shaft… no, no, normal thoughts. Normal.

“Aye, sir. Sorry. Jus’... Uh…”

“Feels good,” Price finished for him. “Been a while for more ‘an jus’ physio then.” There was a wry amusement to his tone and Johnny’s lower lip pushed up in a pout, his face flushing red.

“S’not what it looks like.”

“Looks like yer hard from a little tenderness, sergeant.”

“Fuck, don't tell anyone, ah’ll do dogsbody in officer’s mess fer a whole month.”

“Oof, humiliatin’.”

“Not as humiliatin’ as Garrick takin’ the pish cause ah got a stonner for me captain,” Johnny blurted out, making it infinitely worse. “Fuck.”

Price snorted a laugh and Johnny’s eyes blew owlishly wide again. Those big hands were still working; any pain had faded, and only a warm pleasure remained, pressure coiling in his groin. Price hummed. “Maybe I can help ya with that too. If yer up for it.”

“What?” Johnny squeaked. Price was a gay man. That was no secret. He was one of the few gay men in the service that Johnny had ever encountered that endured precisely fuck all abuse about it. No cunt was daft enough to even try. Johnny had been too feart to own his sexuality, but Price had probably heard Grindr ping one too many times to be left under any illusion that Johnny was straight.

“Yer not the only one goin’ through a bit of a dry spell. Offer’s there.”

Johnny swallowed thickly. He couldn't lift his eyes from Price's hands, watching those strong thumbs circle either side of his knee again, prick throbbing in the confines of his boxers. Of all the days to wear his snug Calvin Kleins that left nothing to the imagination. The bulge had filled his palms now. He could pull away, put a stop to it, but he didn't want to. He wanted Price’s hand wrapped around his prick. “Aye.”

“Whot?”

“Aye, sir… ah’d like some… help,” Johnny finished lamely, his fingers tightening over his cock as he shifted his arse in the chair.

Price blinked at him slowly, leaning back in his chair. Johnny’s leg shifted a little, foot tilting out, and he saw it for the first time. A huge fuck off bulge in the front of Price's Carhartts. “Oh-ho, fuck me, look at the size of it,” Johnny wheezed, and then clicked his mouth shut, lips sucked in so he could chew on them before murmuring, “Respectfully… sir.”

Price chuckled, rubbing a hand over his face, nails raking down through his beard around the edges of his grin. “‘m gonna be glad ev’ryone's on leave, un’ I?”

Johnny flushed to the tips of his ears. “Ah can be wheesht.”

“Nah, don't be.” Price took Johnny's ankles and lowered his leg slowly to the floor. Johnny licked his lips as anticipation bubbled in his chest, hands still clasped over his crotch despite the futility of trying to hide his erection. His eyes somehow widening further as Price slipped from his seat and onto his knees between Johnny’s feet.

“Oh shit, oh shit,” Johnny breathed, hands shaking as Price took them and guided them away from where they still cupped protectively over his cock. He felt the warm puff of Price's breath over the hair on his belly and the damp spot on his boxers, and his toes curled against the floor. Those weathered fingers stroked up his thighs, over soft cotton to the elastic of his waistband. Johnny’s cock flicked gratefully free, ruddy and dark compared to the rest of him, and he sucked in a sharp hiss through his teeth as cool air found his wet slit.

“Well, pretty all over, ain’tcha, sergeant?”

Johnny knew he had a nice dick, good girth, nice upward curve to hit all the right spots and a respectable length. He'd taken enough selfies with it and then had his phone blow up to know, but to hear Price say it in that silky rumble made him go weak. His hips squirmed, and he bit his lower lip as Price's beard rubbed on his inner thigh, followed by the softness of his lips as he kissed a trail up. Johnny fingers bit into the outside of his legs as they pushed out, urging Price to get to his destination. “Please, sir…”

“Relax, soldier. I gotcha.”

Finally, Price grasped Johnny’s cock, fingers pushing through the coarse thatch of hair at the base. Johnny let out a soft whine, shaft flicking in Price’s grip as a thick pearl of precum welled from his slit. It was sweet, sweet torture. A mixture of relief and yearning that made his entire body light up. Price’s thumb swept below his waistband, brushing the swell of his sac, before he stroked up, fingers brushing over the flare of Johnny’s crown.

Johnny groaned, head flopping back because he needed to briefly thank fucking God for blessing his dick and promise to visit confession at some point in the next decade to repent for lusting after his captain's hands and mouth. He couldn't take his fucking eyes off Price for long, and he looked back in time to watch Price ease his foreskin back, the wicked tip of his tongue pushing though Johnny’s slit to lap it clean of pre. “Fuck, fuck, fuck… god, shite, ahh, sir, mmm.”

The lines around Price's eyes deepened in amusement, and then his eyes slid closed in what Johnny could only describe as bliss as he kissed the thick vein down Johnny's length, brushing the tip of his nose across silky skin until it buried against Johnny's groin with a soft groan. “Mm, fuck, ya smell good.”

Johnny spread his legs a little further, lifting his arse when Price tugged his boxers to bring them further down his thighs. The heat of his mouth enveloped Johnny’s balls, his tongue pressing down the seam, Johnny's cock resting against his cheek as he tasted his fill. Johnny panted through parted lips, one hand finally leaving his leg to slide around the back of his captain's head to pull his face closer. “Aye… sir, fuck… ahh.”

The moan that rumbled from Price’s chest rolled up Johnny’s body like an earthquake, and he heard the clatter of a buckle as Price fumbled with his belt to free his cock. Jacking himself off to the taste of Johnny’s sac in his mouth. When he finally drew away, he left Johnny's dark curls wet with spit, his blue eyes lidded, drunk on Johnny's musk and the pleasure of his hand pumping slowly up and down his own cock.

“God, yer a fuckin’ bonny picture, sir. Love tae suck cock, eh? Fuck.”

Price didn't say anything, just licked back up the underside of Johnny’s prick to draw the tip into his mouth. The wet glide of Price's tongue around his glans made Johnny groan, and he lifted his hips, pressing his tip over the ridges at the top of Price's mouth, fingers tightening at the back of his head. Price didn't need much encouragement to sink down, but he did so at his own pace, slowly, torturously, sucking Johnny deeper into the glorious wet heat of his mouth until Johnny’s head hit the back of his throat.

Johnny held him there for moment, admiring the stretch of his lips around the heft of his shaft, the lidded, fucked out enjoyment in his eyes, the way his broad shoulders were completely relaxed as he palmed himself lazily. Bonny was right. Johnny wondered what he'd be like on his back with his hands pinned above his head, what his moans might sound like when they weren't muffled by cock…

Price drew off, sucking greedily until he reached the tip, before lowering again in a steady glide, fucking his own mouth on Johnny's prick. Johnny moaned loudly with each dip of Price’s head, his thighs shaking as warm, irresistible pleasure curled in his hips, through his belly, his balls firming up beneath Price's chin. “Ah, ah, sir, fu-mm, fuck, yer mouth… is… ahh.”

And then Price swallowed him down proper. Johnny felt the pop as his head pushed into Price's throat, the clenching tightness made him choke out a low, trembling moan, Price’s nose buried against his groin. The sound of Price’s pumping hand, the wet slap of skin, grew more urgent and the thought that Price was even more turned on by having Johnny in his throat was dizzying. When he began to bob his head again, half choking on Johnny’s cock, Johnny knew he wasn't going to last much longer.

He didn't know where to put his hands, bunching Price's hair between his fingers, scrubbing them over his beard just to feel the bristles against his fingertips, sliding them down his throat to feel his Adam's apple bob and strain around his cock.

His heels lifted from the floor, toes pushing into the cold concrete, a sharp contrast to the blistering, pulsing heat of his captain's mouth as it milked him. He babbled incoherently, half Scots, half unintelligible English slurred out like a drunk at last orders, delirious with pleasure as saliva and precum pooled around his groin. His thumb stroked over Price's cheeks, pressing to feel the glide of his shaft through them and trace the damp of the tears that tracked from hazy blue eyes.

“Sir, ah’m, sir…” Johnny tried to tug him off because a gentleman didn't cum down a fella’s throat without asking, but Price fucking growled like a wolf having its meal stolen and that was enough to punch Johnny over into a heady climax. “Sir, fuck!” His stomach clenched, toes pushing against the floor as his hips lifted from the chair. Price kept sucking, drinking every drop offered by Johnny’s twitching prick. It coaxed him higher until he was whimpering in fucked out bliss, his fingers shaking in his captain's hair. Just as he was tipping over into oversensitivity, Price pulled off and pressed his face into the sweaty crease of Johnny's thigh, arm moving furiously, hips humping as he fucked his own grip.

“Yeah, g’won, sir, gonna come for me, liked havin’ my prick down ye throat, belly full of my cum.” Johnny stroked Price’s hair and watched his eyes roll back, his shoulders seizing, as he came hard into his fist. He panted between Johnny's legs, catching his breath for a moment, before he slumped back into his heels. Johnny took the opportunity to look down at his prick, still semi-hard, and he sucked in a breath. “Fuck, look at tha’ beast… ye top with tha’ weapon?”

“Only if you ya’sk nicely,” Price rasped. The sound of his throat, fucked raw, made Johnny's soft prick twitch against his thigh.

“How nicely?”

“State secret. S’classified.”

“I’ll steal L.T.’s clearance,” Johnny replied testily, and his hunch was rewarded with a quirk of the eyebrows. “Knew it.”

Price chuckled hoarsely. “Clean up. Got work t’ finish.” He rolled to his feet and for a beautiful moment his cock bobbed close to Johnny’s face. Be seein’ ye soon, sweet thing.

“Can't, ye jus’ sucked me brain out me prick.”

“Now, MacTavish.”

Johnny's mouth clicked shut, and then he mumbled a “yessir” as he pulled his boxers and jeans back up. He'd be lying if he said it was somewhat difficult to focus on the reports for the rest of the evening, especially when he lifted a foot to tease Price's crotch and the bastard spread his legs to give access. Didn't even flinch though. Wily git.

#captain john price #johnny soap mactavish #soapprice #pricesoap

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cosmosluckycharms · 3 days ago

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Bug Like Angel

pt4

See you soon

hey guys warning this chapter literally has none of the batfam here its highlighting reader being insterted into itsv-atsv

It has been a year since you had gotten bitten.

You were now 14

Since then you've lost a couple of people.

Your Gwen Stacy, who was instead named [REDACTED], was killed while you were trying to stop the green goblin.

You lost an officer you were close to. He died while protecting a kid.

You lost someone you considered an uncle.

You were tired.

Since then you've been training yourself, secretly fighting crime to not be seen by your family, and getting stronger in general.

Every day was sortve the same. Wake up, get ready, go to school, come home, eat, fight crime, sleep, repeat.

It all changed one day.

You had just gotten back from patrol.

You stopped 3 muggings and saved a cat from a tree.It was a slow day, thankfully.

You were doing your homework peacefully.

You were almost done with your algebra homework when suddenly a portal popped up right next to you.

You couldn't process anything as the portal sucked you up and took you in.

The next thing you knew, you were stuck in an alternate universe with other versions of you.

And you had to get home soon ASAP no rocky if you didn't wanna die.

And that be all fine and dandy.

Except you didn't wanna get attached to anyone.

You didn't want them to exclude you and you to follow them around like a lost puppy like you did with your family.

And guess what?

You did get attached.

Peni, a small kid who was in a tiny robot fighting, was like a little sister to you.

Peter B. Parker, ham, and Noir were all like uncles to you.

gwen and Miles were your cool older siblings.

You loved them.

And you hated that.

Because you knew deep down, you wouldn't get to see each other again.

You all were destined to be apart, due to your separate universes.

You got attached.

You were attached to noir and how his coat smelled like cigarettes and milkshakes.

You were attached to Ham and how he always cracked jokes when things got tense and awkward.

You were attached to peter b and how he talked about his past experiences.

You got attached to Peni and how she would use stickers everywhere.

You got attached to Miles and how stupidly awkward he was with Gwen.

You got attached to Gwen and how she gave you the advice you always needed.

Fuck.

You didn't wanna go back to the manor.

This is the happiest you've been in a while.

This is home.

You can go on patrol here without worrying that your family might see you.

You are constantly smiling and laughing with the people here.

You're constantly wishing you could stay here forever.

Other than the constantly painful glitching, you're so happy and excited.

You never wanna leave.

You were so proud of Miles and how he got everyone home.

You cried as soon as you landed back in your room.

You sobbed into your pillow. You're gonna miss them.

No one even noticed you were gone for a week.

No one noticed how bruised up you were.

No one noticed how sad you looked.

It's been 5 months since then.

You got invited to join the Spider Society.

Miguel saw you on patrol trying to fight an anomaly and failing miserably due to you never fully getting actual training.

You were trying! It's just that you didn't want your family to see you so its sort of hard to control a whole glitching green goblin...

Miguel took you into the spider society.

You saw peter b in Miguel's office and immediately tackled him into a hug and cried a little.

You learned that due to being a mix of two multiverses (Marvel and DC) your canon events were a tiny bit messed up.

Miguel explained everything, but everything was going through one ear and out the other.

You wondered if the others were here too.

You wondered if they missed you like you missed them.

Miguel could see how spaced out you were.

"What's wrong, Mija?"

"Are the others here? Like Gwen, Miles, ham, noir, and Peni? I know Peter's here, I saw him just now, but what about the others?"

He went on to explain how they hadn't been invited yet.

Later on, you begged him to at least invite Peni.

He couldn't resist your puppy dog eyes, so he said yes.

Since being introduced into society, you've slowly started getting used to just doing everything here.

You would go into Miguel's office for hours and hours just to be around him.

He was like the father you always wanted!

He would listen to you complain about your family, and he would always lend a shoulder to cry on.

On multiple occasions, he had to carry you back to your bed in your universe because you'd fall asleep in his office on the floor.

You both have gotten close.

Miguel was your emergency contact, always there when you needed him. Despite his intimidating appearance to others, he was never scary to you.

At one point you saw Gwen again, finally!

You were so happy! one step closer to getting everyone together again!

Slowly, you saw everyone again.

..Everyone except Miles.

You didn't understand, why not Miles?

You asked Miguel and he went on a tangent that did not make sense and went through one ear and out the other.

You did get to meet Pavitr and Hobie.

Pavitr was your twin! You guys had similar personalities and had twin telepathy.

You both were around the same age and everything!

Hobie is SO COOL!

He taught you how to play your guitar! You were finally getting a hang of it!

He was like the older brother you never had!

You wanted to be like him so bad!

When he and Gwen jokingly said they wanted to start a band, you wanted to!

A couple of months later, you saw miles again!

It wasn't in the best circumstances.

You had just gotten back from school. You were in your room scrolling on your phone, when suddenly your spidey senses tingled.

You saw Gwen hop out of a portal in the middle of your room.

"Hey! I kinda sort of need your help."

"what's going on?" you asked, tilting your head in curiosity.

Gwen went on to explain everything you missed.

From Gwen seeing miles to Miles tagging along onto Mamhatten in pavers universe, and then to Miguel's body slamming him into a train and calling everyone to chase him.

Jeez, you don't go to the society for one day and everything goes to shit.

You thought about it for a second, no one would notice you not being here for a couple of days, right?

"..alright, I've saved the multiverse once, I can do it again."

You sat up on your bed and grabbed your suit.

You grabbed Gwen's arm as she took you to a whole other universe.

After a lot of fighting, you all managed to save Miles's dad.

Seeing their family be happy together made you tear up in happiness.

They deserved to be happy.

After a lot of apologies from all parties, everything was still pretty awkward.

You've probably apologized to Miles over a million times despite him insisting it wasn't your fault.

Sure, you didn't help the others chase him, but you still didn't tell him about society.

Hell, you should've been there to defend him.

You should yelled at Miguel from the beginning over him not letting Miles in his exclusive clubhouse.

Instead, you were scared Miguel was gonna bring you back to the manor and disown you, even if you knew he would never do that to you.

You should've stood by miles from the start.

It's never too late to make up for everything.

oml this was kinda boring but i needed filler lol

honestly i might write a oneshot of all the spiderkids together

taglist (please tell me if i forgot to tag you!):

@bath1lda @mariadvorak @coralaura @tsxukikami @hjgdhghoe @coffeeaddictxd @cxcilla

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f1lovr · 9 hours ago

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SILLY SUPERSTITIONS | LN4

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

summary: the one where she doesn't believe in superstitions or otherwise known as he can't get into the car without his pre-race kiss

warnings: none!

Y/N didn't believe in superstitions, rather she thought they were stupid, lando on the other hand, he was a firm believer.

it had started as a joke between you both.

"kiss in exchange for a podium?" you had told him in a teasing manner, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before the race.

"guess we'll figure that out soon enough," he had said in response, a smirk dawning his face as you could feel the confidence coming from him.

he finished in second that race, he had insisted it was your kiss and from there he refused to get into the car until he got a kiss from you, saying he wouldn't do well or he couldn't drive without it, as if it would make him a better driver.

that led to here, minutes away from lando having to get into the car, you nowhere in sight.

the mechanics and engineers were rushing around him, last minute checks on the car, making sure everything was good before the race. the cheer of the fans from the stands as they wait for the impending race.

but lando couldn't focus, not on the race ahead of him, not even on the sounds around him, because you weren't there and he needed you to be because he hadn't gotten his kiss yet.

lando's leg was bouncing up and down nervously as his head scanned the surrounding area looking for any sign of you. his mind being consumed with thoughts about where you could be, about the fact that he might have to go into today's race without you, without his good luck kiss.

his mutters to himself broke his silence, "where is she?"

jon, his trainer, who was next to him turned and looked at him with furrowed brows as he heard the muttering coming from the driver, "who?"

lando's head turned to jon, a look being shot at his trainer as if his answer was obvious, "Y/N, i need her here but i don't know where she is."

jon smirked at lando's answer, "ah, so you mean you need your lucky charm?"

lando didn't deny jon's comment, his eyes only rolling in response, "she should be here by now, she's never this late," he mutters nervously.

jon's eyes fall to the watch at his wrist checking the time, "you've got three minutes mate."

he had three minutes. three minutes to somehow find you in the chaos that is the race or he'd have to go get in the car and race without the one thing that kept him from botching it turn one.

he was about to get up and leave when his ears perked up at a voice, not just a voice, but your voice.

"looking for me pretty boy?"

he could have gotten whiplash with how fast he had turned his head, watching as you walk up to, nothing but a casual nature in your step as if you didn't know the chaos you had caused with your absence.

"baby where the hell have you been?" he all but demanded.

"easy tiger, i got stuck, security guards and journalists kept harping on me. all of them acting like i was infiltrating the FIA instead of just trying to get to my boyfriend," you giggle with a grin, his reaction to your disappearance amusing.

lando didn't care, he could care less about why you weren't here actually, it was all just excuses to him. but you were here now and that was all that mattered to him as his hand grabbed your wrist pulling you close to him, the glances that were being thrown his way being ignored.

"i almost had to go into the race without you," he mutters, a tone so low that only you were able to pick it up.

"you wouldn't have let that happen," your hands coming to his shoulders as you smirk.

lando huffed as his lips twitched, the smile he was trying to hold back failing to stay hidden, "you have never been more right about something love."

next thing you know he was pulling you into a kiss, the kiss being soft and gentle but still firm. he didn't rush his kiss, taking the reassurance it provided as he let himself calm down from the storm of not having you.

he pulled away with a grin on his face, "now i won't crash turn one," he said with a chuckle.

your head shook as you laughed, "whatever makes you sleep at night pretty boy," you giggle out.

your moment was broken by the call of lando's engineer, letting lando know it was time to get in the car.

you watched as he let go of your hand with a sigh after giving it one last parting squeeze, reluctantly stepping back from you as he moved to climb into his car.

you were leaned against the garage watching as he settled. you could tell he was focused, he was ready, and you would never let him live it down if he got on the podium, reminding him over and over that it was your kiss that got him there.

did you actually believe that? no, definitely not, but if it meant more pre-race kisses and it helped him, then you'd remind him over and over.

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kaivenom · 3 days ago

Note

Since February 9th is my birthday I got an idea, how about what one piece dilfs do on your birthday?

What the OP Dilfs do on your birthday

Characters: Doflamingo, Mihawk, Crocodile, Smoker, Shanks

A/N: oowwwww, happy birthdayyyy, i am so glad that you asked me for this.

Masterlist

Dracule Mihawk

He prefers a rather small event, just him and you, maybe Perona and even Zoro if he can.

But if you want a party with other people, then he would try to tolerate other peoples presence.

Picture this: the backyard of your families house, all with balloons, food and all your relatives from all ages.

Then Mihawk with a glass of wine having to stand children and annoying aunts.

When you didn't found him anywhere, you searched for him and found him with your grandma (or another old female relative) gossiping.

When you left the house and finally are alone, he finally gave you your gift... probably jewelry.

Donquixote Doflamingo

He doesn't make it an official holiday but every one takes it like that cause there is a parade all over the city.

Like a Valentine's day 2.0

Privately he does a big feast on the castle and it's the only time you got to sit on the throne (and not his lap).

Like he says "You are the queen for the day"

He even orders some people to do humilliating things to make you laugh, but you have to stop him and reassure him that you just need to be with him on the moment.

Every one of the crew was invited to the party which means that Doflamingo ordered them the exact gift they have to get you, so you can have everything you want.

Baby 5 told you his plan so you went to thank him for the party and for being so sweet and lovely, at least for your special day.

Sr. Crocodile

A surprise trip, to anywhere you want like... you woke up and he asked you were you wanted to go, you said and hours later there you are.

You went to all the sites you wanted and he even ordered some fireworks for midnight.

He reserved on your favourite restaurant and he even "asked" (he literally threatened their families) to do your favourite cake.

Of course, all the things you've been wanting since christmas, he got them from you.

In the case the trip couldn't be made cause you already had plans with friends and family, expect him to celebrate before you go and wait for you to continue celebrating.

He understands that you can share your time with other people and he won't interfere but he absolutely would use all the other time you had.

Quality time and gifts are his love language so expect that a lot.

Smoker

You both go a day out at work for personal affairs.

He mades you breakfast and put it on the bed, this day, you are the only thing on his life.

You do everything you want this day: a picnic? done, a fancy restaurant? movies and popcorn?

All of it? also yes.

He even tries to cook himself a birthday cake but the attend gets so bad that you had to help him.

He is reticent about it but when you suggested him that this is the perfect couple birthday activity, he accepted.

The ussual movie flour fight type of thing, but you ended up doing the dessert and you finally made your wish.

But there is no better wish than to have spent the day with him.

Akagami Shanks

You are free from all your responsabilities on the ship.

You are the first to be served on lunch and everyone left you alone to be at peace.

More than that the day went awfully normal, even with Shanks, you started to even feel crazy cause nobody even said "good birthday" but they clearly know due to their behaviour.

Then Shanks ordered to arrive on an island without warning, was almost night so you decided to go to your room, a little sad about the day.

So, half an hour later, Shanks lifted you up and forced you outside, to the night, and you saw how they had prepared a surprise party.

You almost slapped all of them for the secretism but you know you have a soft spot for these idiots.

Food, alcohol and cake passed among everyone and lasted all night.

Shanks took the moment when they all were drunk to be more affectionate and attentive with you, showing you how much love he was acumulating all day for the brithday girl

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starsfic · 9 hours ago

Text

I hope you don't mind-

-_-

Everything was ready to go.

Princess Elise had been more than happy to donate her castle, allowing the Great Hall to be decorated in white, purple, blue, and red. Music tinkled as the rising sun caught the stained glass windows, sending rainbow light twirling.

The seated guests watched as the wedding party walked down the aisle together, taking up each side of the dias. After that, Omega served as the flower robot, sending latana petals dancing in the air. The ring girl Cream happily skipped behind, clenching the little pillow proudly.

In the front row, Vanilla and Aleena sobbed happily into a handkerchief together. Chuck patted the latter's shoulder, letting his tears simply flow. Next to them were two empty seats, bearing the portraits of Maria and Gerald Robotnik. Next to them, Stone sobbed into his own handkerchief amd occasionally hugging Sage. Ivo sat next to him, looking rather dazed. According to rumor, he had been practically comatose since the wedding had been announced. Still, several troops were stationed at the corners of the hall, ready to leap into action if any evil plot was unleashed.

The music stopped when the officiant, Amy Rose, stood at the podium. “Everyone,” she said.

“You ready for this?”

“You know I am.”

“I am happy to welcome in our loving couple…”

“Before we head out there…I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Sonic and Shadow!”

Gasps and cheers echoed through the hall as the soon-to-be-wed couple stepped out. Sonic looked dashing in a dark suit, while Shadow looked breathtaking in a white gown, with his red quills practically popping under the glittering veil. Sonic offered his arm and Shadow adjusted his hold on the latana and lavender bouquet before taking his arm. The music swelled triumphantly as the two began to walk down the aisle.

Honestly, both were surprised that they had ever gotten to this point. It had been a long journey of battles, blood, sweat, tears and therapy. Today was a victory, and they couldn't imagine it without each other.

The music once again died down when they reached the stage. Amy beamed at both of them before clearing her throat.

“My friends and family, we are honored to be gathered here to celebrate the union of two people we love so deeply. Today, they have decided to start a new life together, ushered in by those who love them the most.” A cheer rang out. “So, I shall keep it simple. Sonic and Shadow, do you swear to stay by each other's sides, no matter how rough things will get?”

“We do.”

“Do you promise to stay true and devoted to each other?”

“We do.”

“Do you swear that you will always love each other to the end of your days?”

Shadow reached out and squeezed Sonic's hand. Sonic squeezed back, guessing that he was thinking of his immortality. Despite that, Shadow’s voice was steady when they said “We do.”

Amy nodded and then took a breath. “If anyone has any objections, please speak now.”

All heads turned towards the only person who could possibly object. Ivo Robotnik stared blankly at the wall. As soon as the wedding was done, Sonic would be Sonic Robotnik. And, after he finished up his master's in archeology, he would be Dr. Robotnik. It would make sense for Ivo to reject such a nightmarish scenario.

A minute passed.

Two.

Three.

“Well then!” Amy said, and it was like a sigh of relief passed through the hall. “I now pronounce you husband and-”

CRACK!

Panic spread through the church at the sight of a red and black portal forming right in front of the couple. “It can't be-!” Shadow gasped, dropping the bouquet, as Sonic moved in front of him, protectively keeping himself between his almost husband and the monster. He knew Shadow could protect himself, of course, but-

Black Doom made even the strongest warriors terrified.

The supposedly dead alien warlord hovered in the air, his eyes tight as shimmering waves of rage came off him.

“I OBJECT TO THIS MARRIAGE.”

Without another word, he reached out. Shadow tensed, preparing to be grabbed. He would bite the hell out of Doom before letting himself get taken! He was wound up, ready to be the worst prisoner ever-

Which meant when Sonic was yanked off his feet and dragged through the portal, all Shadow could do was reach for him.

The portal closed, leaving the hall silent.

“NOOOOOOOOO-!”

A few turned to stare at Ivo as he stood straight up, screaming, but the wedding party's eyes were on him.

“Shadow?” Amy said, her voice thick with tears. “Are you okay?”

“Towers!” Rouge barked. “Where's the Black Comet?!”

“We need to get Sonic!” Tails said, looking ready to tear off his tuxedo.

Shadow agreed with everything except the tuxedo.

He smoothed his hands down his skirt. When Vanilla, the closest thing he had to a mother figure, offered to make his dream wedding dress, the one he picked out with Maria, he had one request.

There. Two pockets.

He yanked out the guns and began to march down the aisle.

“Wait, where did you get those-?”

“Oh, Black Doom, you chose the wrong day.”

Hopefully, most of the dress survived.

sonadow wedding🎉🎉🎊✨✨

I also made a mini comic😝

#STH #Sonic the Hedgehog #Shadow the Hedgehog #my writing #Sonadow #Sonic #Shadow

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juricel · 3 days ago

Note

heyyy its me again

I have a silly request for you which you can ignore if you want to, since I think your ask box is piling up haha!

basically,

Yandere reader x pre corrupt shadow milk cookie turns to reader x Yandere shadow milk cookie

Reader, at first is super obsessed and does a lot of stuff for pre-corrupted shadow milk cookie and hes like super disgusted by how they’re acting. And suddenly, reader disappears one day, and hes fine with it

beasts get corrupted then get jailed,,

while in jail shadow milk cookie misses how loving y/n was, and realised that he has taken them for granted </33 And now he wants them back because of how love deprived he became

when hes out of the silver tree he see’s y/n again and at first hes all hip hip hooray !! until he sees that y/ns clinging onto the THIEF!!!

he goes batshit crazy, you can be creative with this if you want or just give your little ideas/comments I just really want more food wahah

so sorry if this doesn’t make much sense, it’s 2am :’)

tysm for reading oh great one!! you don’t have to do this right away dont worry love ur work already

—💤non

a/n: it's okay, i understand what you were aimimg for! I focused on the other requests before this one and had some church duties to do, so I apologize for having you need to wait for so long.

— yandere! shadow milk cookie x past yandere! reader (ft. the bus driver, pure vanilla cookie.)

໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა ۪ ׂ CONTENT WARNING: manipulation, physical abuse, heavy possessive and obssessive behavior, unhealthy relationship, implied forced established relationship, implied mindbreak, corruption, objectification, stalking, pure vanilla cookie needs a fucking break, one of these warnings is not like the rest, potential ooc.

𖦁 blueberry milk cookie was a heaven sent gift from the witches above, he was a celestial jewel, an angel's whisper brought down to earth, the very breath of seraphim—an impossible, transcendental blessing cradled in the tender arms of witches' own grace. he was a splendid confection, kneaded from divine essence, destined to scatter blessings upon the crumbed multitudes of earthbread—a being way out of your league, you, an ordinary cookie who could crumble and wither into a flour with not a single eye batting to your direction.

𖦁 ah, but how radiant he was, you couldn't help yourself from your love, your dear, your luminous, immortal darling. does he even know? does he grasp the way his mind glows, the way his thoughts spill like molten gold onto the parchment of your very soul? he was your everything, your love—your guiding star, your perfect darling, your sole, necessary breath. and yet, the world, the pitiful, ignorant world, could not comprehend his brilliance, like a mere toy, they had molded him, and cast him aside once their utilitarian need had been served; they did not deserve him. no, the world could not deserve him—those who fail to recognize the sacredness of his mind, who treat his wisdom as commonplace, who look upon him without the reverence of a disciple at the feet of a god—it sickens you, stirs a fury deep within your chest. in the hollowed, gleaming corridors of his towering spire, you would see them—fawning, indulging in their miserable, blind inanities, lost in the sick lies they prefer over the sublime truth he alone could offer. and mind you, it was he—he—who spent his invaluable time, his precious moments, entangled with these dull, odious fools, these imbecilic cookies just for them to throw it away! he should not have to share his divine self with such paltry, uninspired creatures. no, no, no. you could not abide it. you would sever every connection, carve away every distraction, erase every tether that pulled him from you. and if it were required to cloak him in the softest, most unrelenting shadow, to shield him from the world that could never grasp his greatness, to hide him where only your gaze could drink in the luminous glow of his mind—so be it. you would protect him, cherish him, and keep him safe from those who could never understand him as you do.

𖦁 yet, he couldn't seem to understand it all; with every embrace, a look of disdain was given to you, as if you were a taint smeared upon heavens, can't he understand? these cookies were the one that were evil! they will defile him, corrupt his very name with degeneracy! you were merely shielding him away from the evil, how could he not comprehend that? he must've been brainwashed. yes, surely, or so that was what you wanted to believe, however, all his actions proved otherwise: with every touch, he recoiled, like a skittish moth repelled by the flame it once sought. with every affectionate word, he replied in clipped, mechanical syllables, blunt and cold, each one landing with the weight of a slammed door. there was no love in them—no warmth, no hesitance, no trace of a feeling that might, by some miracle, have softened the harsh lines of his indifference. you learned quickly that tenderness was a language he neither spoke nor cared to decipher. a hand reaching for his own was met with a perfunctory pat, a touch devoid of meaning, as if acknowledging, rather than returning, the gesture. you could pour all your warmth into him, let it trickle down the cracks in his facade, but he would not absorb it. He remained, steadfast in his distance, near enough to torment, far enough to elude. you tried to believe in the silences, in the space between his words, in the possibility that somewhere beneath that marble exterior, there was something that resembled love. but hope, much like affection, was wasted on him. you tried, really! to continue loving him, you truly did, but, ah, your feelings leisurely diminished into grains of flour until your love turned into rust and dust.

𖦁 it wasn't long until then your unfortunate sweet dear darling, the celestial beacon in your life was sullied into taint when you vanished into thin air. from graces, he fell, and into the bottom of the endless pit of corruption.

𖦁 and oh, how much he changed: in the cold, lonely cell, he reminisced the past, thought of you, thought of your oh so tender gentle caresses! and to say that it made him deprived of warmth, made him ache—hunger not for food, but for yours was an understatement. he sought and yearned for it, hunger gnawed, a sensation with fangs, sharp and insistent, curling inside his ribs like a starved serpent. he gwaned for you—not sweetly, not poetically, but in the way of a body denied water, of lips cracked and trembling at the edge of a mirage. oh, to be held, to be devoured, to be anything but this wretched hunger pressing against the ribs, licking at the throat, whispering: more, more, more... ah! he couldn't stop it! he promises to himself that he'd apologize to you and pamper you with affection once he gets out of this petulant little silver tree!

𖦁 and he'd definitely stick to his word; the moment he flees from the withering tree binding him and his allies, he had his priorities straight: to find his dear darling! he was beyond ectastic, thoughts filled of embracing you once more and kissing you, but, ah, none could prepare him for the sight that would unfold infront of his very gaze—his sweet puppet was linking arms with /him/. at first, he laughed, he chuckled and brushed it off, no, no, surely he was just presuming things! there was no way his dear would betray him and replace him with such a... ungracious caricature of a cookie, right? right? if you were, he'd definitely need to give you a better eyes as a replacement which was a no worries for him! he has a nice stock of replacement! surely, you wouldn't stoop down to that level of degeneracy. yet, you didn't approach him like he thought and dreamed of within the silved tree, you only took a cautious step back, away from him, away from your perfect celestial darling and to the burlesque version of himself, realization dawned and it made him seeth with anger.

𖦁 blasphemous! how dare you! you superseded his spot with this thing?! to betray him was one thing, but to replace him with this cheap copy of himself whom hadn't grown ever slightly intelligent despite wielding his own power?! you little pest! he'll make you pay for this. oh, and, don't worry your pretty little brain! he promises to be much, much more tender than he will be to him, it will be grand, a show that will mark itself in earthbread's history. so won't you be a good little dear and wait till he finishes his one last marionette show before tending to you?

𖦁 and as for the destiny of the silly little thief... ah, he vows to make him taste his own medicine and he'll make certain it will be a fate worse than crumbling away! he wasn't gonna kill him, no, no, death was far too gentle, he was gonna corrupt him, brainwash his mind with sweet, insidious poison, and distort his reality into a glistening hall of mirrors where every reflection was a lie, every whisper a trick of the light. he would unravel, unravel most grotesquely, as his reason frayed like moth-eaten silk, his thoughts dissolving into the same exquisite delirium that had once seized his own skull in its venomous embrace! and most importantly, he was gonna make him feel like what it felt like to be in his place! he stole his soul jam and now you, surely he doesn't think he can get away with that, can't he? no, no, if he wants to take from him so badly, he was gonna make him /him/.

𖦁 but ah, don't be so upset, dear. shouldn't you be exhilarated? he's giving you the attention you craved for, the attention you digged the sand and soils for until your fingers scarred and numbed for, the attention you yearned and sought for like a madman. so, why won't you clap, give your sweet jester an applause for his spectacular show? don't tell him you were still concerned of pure vanilla cookie! he simply put him in the right path, the road down to the deepest depths of hell, of course, but it was still a befitting destination!

𖦁 yet, still, still, you prattled on, fretting that lovely little head of yours over pure vanilla cookie—his name tumbling from your lips like some sacred incantation, a hymn to a god too distant to listen. and oh, how it curdled something deep inside him, how it set his very marrow alight with a fury so exquisite it was almost pleasure. could you not see? he was here. here, before you, in all his resplendent, fevered devotion, and yet you—blind, foolish, maddening thing—spoke of another. oh! perhaps a lesson was in order. yes, yes, that's right, a lesson. a gentle one, at first—he was, after all, a man of remarkable patience. a game, then, a little amusement, something to turn those wandering thoughts back where they belonged. he would not interrupt, no, never that. he would only guide, nudge, mold. and in the end, oh, you would see. you would understand. you would learn.

𖦁 and to say the wait had been merely excellent would be a crime of understatement, a paltry insult to the fevered anticipation that had coiled and uncoiled within him for so long. no, the outcome was a marvel beyond the bounds of mere expectation. you were back, back as you had been, intact, whole—his darling, his own, still in possession of that precious, once-fractured self. giddy with triumph, he would fall against you, arms encircling the exquisite stillness of your form, his dear darling, still and unresponsive—your gaze, those glassy and depthless eyes, did not meet his but stretched past him, unfocused, fixed upon some distant and nameless horizon. there was no flicker of recognition, no gentle return of his embrace. and yet, he clung to you, triumphant, unbothered by your silence, unshaken by your vacancy. you were here. that was more than enough.

a/n: I've received like... so many requests featuring pure vanilla cookie with yandere shadow milk cookie after i made that one post... do you guys want him dead? anyways, i just lost my pity in the guaranteed banner to fucking sherbet cookie. i need frost queen to turn him into snow once again... can someone bless me their mystic flour luck, ill give you my burning spice who is currently 4 stars (f2p)

#new trailer killed me. shadow milk cookie just wants to be understood and hes willing to ruin pv to make that happen.. my little projector #i just know hes fucking cooked when the update releases though #shadow milk cookie x reader #shadow milk x reader #cookie run x reader #cookie run kingdom x reader #crk x reader

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mayxxday · 1 day ago

Text

Well-Conditioned : Katsuki Bakugou

Katsuki was acting oddly. And that was underwhelming of a statement to put it because he was all over the place. Fidgeting, crackling, and irritation were through the roof. Katsuki was barely in his seat even. Bouncing his leg, he couldn't help but feel like he did something wrong. Why else, wouldn’t you kiss his cheek as you always did whenever he did something for you?

Katsuki sucked ass when it came to talking love. But it wasn’t that he didn’t show it through his actions. Softened gaze dripping honey each time he wiped his sweat palms on his pants before cupping your cheeks. There was no way he’s gonna get the sticky vile flammable on you—his precious.

Katsuki showed his love when he snatched your backpack off your shoulder, throwing it over his while he dragged you out of the class. He earned himself a sickly sweet kiss on his cheek, showing that you acknowledged his actions and their meaning. It wasn’t an ‘I love you,’ but that’s what anyone but them would say.

Katsuki wasn’t big on grand gestures of love either but he made do with little trinkets and stickers he bought because ‘he thought of you’. And you like it that way. Or at least that’s what he inferred when you would jump into his arms, kissing all over his face.

He surely couldn’t write about his love, he tried that crap and ended up charring his desk black. But he packed you bentos whenever you were to travel back home from the UA dorms. He made sure to put in extra effort and make the fanciest dishes in case your parents were to see the food and judge him off it ( a good potential husband?). Before you would have seen the inside contents or noticed a lacking love note he should have written to you, he would have his arm tugged down, his precious on her toes, to press a big smooch to his cheek.

Katsuki was more than gentlemanly for you, he was your boyfriend, so, of course, he tied your shoelaces for you (why do you still use the bunny ears method, is his excuse), draping his jacket over your legs whenever you wore skirts, all because he knew you liked to manspread worse than him. He carries pads and hair ties in his bag, but which boyfriend wouldn’t? He holds your heels with a grumpy frown, holding your waist to ensure you didn’t trip in his shoes because you thought you could handle being in heels all day.

Katsuki did all this not for praise or compliment. No, he wasn’t obligated to do these either, but he did it because that’s what a good boyfriend would do for you. That however didn’t mean he didn’t appreciate or relish the kisses he received each time he showed his love through his actions.

So what was different today? When he draped his jacket around your shoulder today, why didn’t he get his kiss? And he knows you noticed it, turning your head to him offer your sweet smile, before returning back to your conversation with Mina.

THAT’S IT? Katsuki was confused, he had even leaned in to receive his daily dose of kiss, instead of awkwardly standing back straight noticing his instinct. Was he desperate? No. Was he needy? Maybe. Why can’t a man get his share of kisses?

Staring at you annoyed he waited for you to notice.

BUT YOU NEVER DID.

He even huffed thrice, each time only receiving a distracted rub on his thigh while you gossiped with Mina. Gosh, he wanted to explode her right now. When he finally got over his petty subtle hints he just grabbed your face to face him.

"How long will it take ya' to kiss me, brat?”

Katsuki was easy though. Maybe not for everyone, but his little doll had him wrapped around her finger. When you just smiled innocently at him, pecking his lips without a question. The beast was finally appeased.

“Thank you for the jacket, ‘Suki”

Goddamn, this woman really had conditioned him to seek her kisses without a clue in her pretty head.

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated >.<

please lemme know if you wanna be added to my taglist. my inbox is open for any requests too if you guys might have any.

#bakugou katsuki #mha katsuki #bakugou imagine #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou x you #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou x reader #mha bakugou #katsuki x you #katsukibakugou

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i-am-a-bad-influence-writes · 14 hours ago

Text

P*rn ☆ Epilogue

Masterlist Word count: 2.3 k Sylus x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have been following a spicy content creator by the name of Red Crow for some time now. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what would happen when he moves into the apartment next door.

Author's note: That's it guys. Thank you so much for reading and all the sweet comments. I've had a blast writing this story<3

Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains sex, swear words, porn, smoking, intimate piercings, mentions of drugs, alcohol, mentions of domestic abuse, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.

Mature content under the cut.

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘

'So tell me, Rafayel, did you actually set them up,' Zayne asks with a smile as he looks at the happy couple. Rafayel frowns at him.

'No. Why would I want them to move in together? That's less rent money,' he says in an annoyed, whiny voice. But then he sighs and rolls his eyes, making his annoyed façade a lot less believable. 'I guess they look good together though.'

'That they do,' Zayne agrees, smiling as he looks at the happy couple entering the ballroom together.

Today, he had had the great honor of being your best man with Tara by his side as your bridesmaid. He doesn't think he's ever been prouder than he was seeing you walk down the aisle in your beautiful wedding dress with your hair and makeup all done up and the biggest smile on your face.

It became even more beautiful when he heard the softest sob coming from the man standing there waiting for you. Tears of joy freely flowed down his cheeks as he wore a smile as big as yours.

He's glad you've found your forever person and couldn't be happier for you. He gets to watch you grow happier and happier each and every day, gets to see you with a partner that allows you to be yourself fully and give yourself fully without taking too much. By now, he loves Sylus like a brother and can't imagine his life without him.

As he watches Sylus and you sway over the dance floor, your first dance as husband and wife, it brings a tear to his eyes. When the song ends, you approach him with outstretched hands. He takes a quick peek behind you at Sylus to check if it's okay. Sylus nods with a calm smile as Zayne takes your hand. Together, you sway across the dance floor with Sylus gentle eyes on the both of you, smiling contently.

'Zayne, I don't think I can ever thank you enough for everything you've done for me, for us, but still... Thank you.'

'I'd do it again a million times to see you happy.' You smile and lean your head on his shoulder. He looks over at Sylus, who is still happily looking at the two of you. It is truly a gift that you two managed to end up together like this. The happiness that has been granted to you is a gift from the gods, truly. He can only hope he'll find something like this for himself.

'Remind me to introduce you to one of my colleagues,' you say with a cheeky grin, 'I think you'll like her.'

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘

'Wait, stop,' you giggle, pushing Sylus off you. The man has been leeching on your neck ever since people started leaving. He pouts at you but lets you do what has to be done. Which is unlocking the door to your shared apartment. When you push the door open, he picks you up and you squeal. 'What are you doing?'

'Carrying my bride over the threshold,' he states proudly as he walks into the apartment. He closes the door with a kick and carries you straight to the bedroom where he gently puts your back on your feet. 'Would you grant me the honor of taking off your dress?'

'If you promise me we'll take a shower after.' His pout reappears. The man was banking on something else happening, but you have been in a heavy dress all day and you truly want to wash the day away. It was beautiful and a memory that you'll never forget, but you can almost feel your skin itch under your makeup. 'Please?'

'Anything my wife wants, my wife gets,' he agrees and walks around you to busy himself with the beautiful pearl buttons on the back of your dress. 'You were enchanting today. Truly in my top five of your most beautiful moments.'

'Top five? Is it even number one?'

'No, number one will always be when I woke up with you after we finally had the talk. But it's a good number two.' You giggle as you feel his hands gently work your buttons. Each inch of freed skin is kissed lovingly.

'What are the others?'

'Five is when I saw you for the very first time. I was having a terrible time setting up my apartment and you came over with that bottle of whiskey.' You let out a chuckle.

'You were so rude to me.'

'I was, but you were beautiful. Even if you did look annoyed,' he adds and continues his list, 'number four is the first time you let me eat you out.' Another chuckle leaves your lips, but then you feel his hands on your hips as he kneels down onto the floor.

'And number three will be waking up with you tomorrow. The first time waking up with you as my wife,' his voice sounds a little wobbly. When you look over your shoulder, you can tell he has tears in his eyes. With the last button undone, you turn and kneel on the floor with him, taking his face in your hands. He instantly leans into your touch, eyes closing to focus on the warmth you spread through his body. 'I could've never imagined we would've made it this far if it hadn't been for your stubbornness.'

It almost sounds like a joke, but he means it wholeheartedly. 'And I would do it again and again, a million times if I have to, if that means I get you as my husband,' you tell him, not a trace of uncertainty in your words. His eyes open again and he looks at you, taking in your figure. The dress draping off your shoulders, your makeup so perfectly done, the honestly in your face.

'I don't know what I've done to deserve you, but it must've been pretty damn good,' he tries to joke, but a tear slips out. Your thumb wipes it away and you lean in to press a kiss on his lips. It's searing hot, a burning promise to stand beside him whatever may come next.

As lips part, he seems much better. You smile and get up from your knees, offering him your hand. 'Now, I think it's about time we consummate this marriage.' He takes your hand and gets up, pressing a kiss on your cheek.

'Sweetie, I know you're tired. Let's just take a shower.'

'Fine,' you pretend to be annoyed, but he sees right through it. 'I'm waking you up with a blowie though.'

'If I ever say no to that, shoot me.'

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘

Despite both being drained from the wedding, you talked for hours. About the past, the present, the future. Little things you hadn't admitted to each other, like Sylus secret love of Fleetwood Mac and your extreme love for- and fascination with sunsets. By the time you both fell asleep, it must've been three or four am. So you aren't really surprised that you wake up with the late morning sun bathing the whole room in a warm orange.

However, you could've slept for much longer had it not been for a certain someone sucking hickeys on your thighs. With a sluggish movement, you pick up the covers and see Sylus between your legs. Each of his arms wrapped around a thigh, your underwear nowhere to be seen, and a cheeky grin on his lips when he meets your eyes.

'I thought I said I was going to give you a blowjob.'

'Well, the day is still young,' he rasps, his voice still full of sleep, 'and I intent to show my wife how much I love her first.' My wife. The words make his stomach tingle the same as they do for you.

'Okay, but push the covers off. I want to see my husband.'

'Yes ma’am.' He throws off the covers in one swift motion and plunges right into his breakfast. Right away, flattening his tongue against your clit and licking a thick stripe. Your back arches as you whimper his name. After that, there's no stopping him.

He plunges two fingers into you and eats like a man starved, like he needs your pussy to stay alive. His fingers pump and curl deliciously inside of you while your body moves uncontrollably, only staying in place because of Sylus’ tight grip on your thighs. The room is filled with moans and whimpers of Sylus’ name. He revels in it.

Before you know it, your orgasm washes over you. As you try to steady your breathing, Sylus moves from his spot which is slightly uncharacteristic for him. Usually, he tries to get you on the edge of a second orgasm first.

'My beautiful wife, would you grant me the honor of fulfilling a fantasy of mine,' he asks between kisses as he makes his way slowly to your mouth, placing a loving kiss right on your lips. You wrap your arms around his shoulders to hold him close to you.

'And what would that be, husband?'

'Remember that video in my bathroom of me jerking off?' You nod. 'That was the evening after the party. I heard you masturbating and I started imagining being with you. Holding you. I'd like to fuck you how I imaged I would.'

'Is this something we need a traffic light system for?' He shakes his head.

'No, none of that. I just want you to stay laying here, just like this and,' he gently lifts your legs until your feet are planted on his mattress, thighs far enough apart to allow space for him. He takes your hands and move them into the hair on the back of his neck. He spreads his legs, sitting on his heels as he gently lines his length up to your pussy. 'Is this alright for you?'

A smile spreads across your face. This is nothing special. It almost makes you blush that he would imagine such a normal scene and get off so hard on it. You nod and pull on his hair. 'Fuck me, Sylus.'

He slips in gently and leans closer to press his lips on yours, setting a gentle pace as he kisses you deeply. But you quickly get enough of the slow pace and pull his hair again to separate his lips from yours. 'Quicker, please,' you beg, looking desperate and longing for release. With a smile, he starts driving his length into you at a quicker pace. An orchestra of the little sounds you make fills the room once more. It's so much more beautiful than he imagined back then, so much more beautiful. Your eyes are focused on him and only him.

'You're absolutely stunning, sweety,' he tells you as he leans closer, wrapping his arms around your body to pull you closer, his lips exploring the expanse of your neck and shoulders. Your hands slip out of his hair and onto his back, your nails leaving works of art on his back in despair. One of his hands leaves your body, moving between the two of you to rub your bundle of nerves, helping you closer to a state of ecstasy.

'Sylus, you feel so good,' you manage to moan out, clawing your way as close to him as you possibly can. In response, he pulls you up into his lap and holds you close to his chest, as close as humanly possible, while picking up the pace and drilling into you.

Your moans become louder and you are so grateful the bedroom doesn't border on another apartment as you hear the bed creak pitifully. In a terrible attempt to silence yourself as you rapidly get closer to the edge, you bite down on his collarbone. He groans out your name in a mixture of pain and pleasure. The feeling tips him over the edge.

His hands grab your hips so hard you're sure it'll bruise, severing you the same mixture of pain and pleasure to help you tip over the edge and fall into the abyss with him. Your teeth let go of his skin as you whole body shakes in pleasure. Sylus holds you close, his arms wrapping around your body like a safety net whilst his hips jerk up to help you ride through your orgasm.

When he feels your shaking subside, he gently lays you down on the bed and slips out of you. A pathetic whine slips from your lips as your face contorts in disagreement, but all he can see is his beautiful wife. His absolutely perfect wife who is so willing to give herself to him.

He lays down and snuggles up to you, arms wrapping around your body like they're meant to be there. 'You did perfect.'

'Sylus?' He hums in response, eyes already closed again, ready for a nap. 'Can I say that I am absolutely flattered that this is what you thought of doing with me the first time you met me?'

'You can, but do remember that I first fell for you because you were being a brat,' he retorts. There's a chuckle in the back of your throat, but you force it down and huff instead, pretending you're that bratty again. A rumbling laugh goes through his chest. 'I'm joking.'

'You're really not.'

'No, I'm not. I still love you though.' The biggest grin spreads on your face, basking in the bliss that this beautiful man loves you. It's something that you didn't see coming, but when you first saw him it hit you like a semitruck. You truly couldn't be happier than you are when you're with him and you hope you'll ever find the words to truly express that to him.

'I love you too.'

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Previous - Fin. - Back to the start

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numberonegorohole · 3 days ago

Text

I have a bee hyperfixation! I love those guys, goobers all of them.

I don't have papers, but I do have several beekeepers that record their bees on tiktok followed and I think that's somewhat better.

They do cage queens, and limit their movement if... Drumroll.... They introduced a queen from a different hive! Sometimes the bees cannot make their own queen, and thus they have to introduce a queen manually unless they die out. Queens are also lightly squashed in a way that doesn't hurt them so they can be colour marked, as per regulations. They all have a little colour dot on them to make sure that keepers know when the Queen was born!

Male bees die every time the mating season ends, they are killed by the hive, or die because their penis exploded. Yes, they die from that.

Bees produce more than enough honey for themselves on purpose. They have a symbiotic relationship with us humans! When they under produce, keepers give them a "pollen patte" (suger water and a few other things) and then in producing months keepers give them extra frames in order to take them at the end of the season. Keepers almost make sure the hive is clean in a way bees cant managed, replacing broken parts of it easier than a bee.

If a bee wanted to leave, it would, even without a queen. If they thought their queen was stuck in the hive, and couldn't help them, they'd make a new one. It is impossible to hold a bee hostage.

While I trust papers, I will always prefer to learn this stuff from bee keepers themselves.

Also please check out the beekeepers association website!

Wild that folks keep saying beekeepers abuse bees as if bees are not both venomous flying animals and fully unionized

#I love bees #I have over 113 images of them on my phone #Bees

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sunflower1experiment · 3 days ago

Text

Children (Risk's Prequel 2.0)

pt1, pt2

Harley is so full of himself, sometimes dating him was like dipping your hand in a rose bush. Like him they were beautiful. charming, hell you even considered the relationship with him to be a thorn bush without the roses. But it was the day something happened in the labs, you went in and noticed the toys were crying? "What happened?"

You march by and comfort them, "What is wrong with them!?" The other scientist who fails to answer at first, backs away but then she feels you lean in. "What happened? Answer."

"You really don't know? Of course not, not when you're busy playing work wife for Sawyer." You glance at Leith, eyes filling with animosity.

"Mind running that by me? What is wrong with my children?"

"Ah so you claim them. Well, let me break it down, your children, they are not just toys. You of all people should have noticed the vast majority of the new high rise of emotions and tension between them and us." What is he spouting about!? You look at Stelle with a curious eyebrow quirk, she avoids your gaze and once more you return to Leith's cold side glance.

"Sawyer didn't....inform me..."

"Of course not, why would he want to break his favorite sentimental experiment's heart." It goes quiet.

The toys who coward behind you, look up as he leaves, as everyone leaves. You kneel down to study them, then your eyes begin to well up. "......Prototype was serious."

The little ones start to hug your feeble form, while you realize how terrible and naive you are the sounds of shoes fill your ears. "You, you're different..." A pink hand holds your shoulder, a long arm follows after and hugs you.

"No need to cry, Mommy's here." You look at this so-called Mommy, and realize why you recognize this voice, it couldn't be, not her.

"Marie Payne?" She backs up with a slight chuckle and the little toys cling to your hand sadly while Mommy stands on the ground, "So you know, or you did know. What makes you think you're different from them?"

"I'm not, I failed...I-"

"Then stop wallowing and do something!" Mommy's hand punches the ground, this was obviously Marie talking. You firmly nod but then hug the toys again, Banzo bunny, the mini huggys, Daisy, Cat-Bee, so many of these little ones.

When you leave the toys behind you take one more glance at them, Mommy watches with a somber stare, Harley took you for a fool didn't he? Or did he simply know how senstive you were.

You couldn't let these children starve, going back home, it meant missing dinner, breakfast, sure but they had to eat. Risking your job would be worth it regardless, Leith calling you an experiment was one thing but to be embarrassed by everyone? Over his dead body, whenever you returned to work with food, you'd just make a simple curt excuse, then place the boxes and containers down.

"What is this?" Mommy grabs the food, "This will feed you all, starvation leads to difficult actions. Now come on. We have to take care of the kids."

She was in shock, for you to get back up after a day, why weren't the adults who hurt her like you? Even if you played a role, the willingness to do better still prevails. Maybe, she looks at your lab coat while you feed the children fruits, "Maybe there are some good people."

It was a lot to handle, a bit overwhelming even but you didn't pull any punches, but when you met with Harley, you both were quiet. He was sent to sleep on the couch that night. Three days would pass, and he’d check on you, “Dear?”

“What did you do with those orphans I cared for?” Harley kicks himself, cursing Leith, Stella and Eddie. Those three were told to keep you away, how can he adore you if you know too much!? Your face of revulsion or disappointment, so he gently holds your hand, “What do you mean?”

“Harley, do not play dumb with me, you’re smart and that's what I love about you…” Of course, of course he should be honest…. “I, well Elliot said we should do this for the betterment of humanity, I’m simply following orders.” The audacity, you were there when he argued with Elliot and everyone knew he had anger issues.

That was why you chose to avoid Harley but you both attracted each other, he was enamored by your genuine curiosity and adoration for simplistics, meanwhile he always had such charisma with that gentle tone, polite demeanor and fascination with anatomy. Were you in love with a facade perhaps? “So you knew, and didn’t tell me?”

He didn’t deny the knowledge but to deliberately not tell you, why? So Kissy, her stress, Mommy, Huggy, and who else? Harley hated it when you cried, he knew when the tears fell that you’d rebel or probably not speak to him. Relationships were complicated, but you both communicated and that was what made Harley stay, yet this time he knew you’d speak your mind. So he did what he could to try and change the perception of the situation.”You know I love you, I would never lie.”

His hand falls flat and he clutches it, your face wasn’t shedding tears but they looked disappointed. You then hold your stomach before hugging him sadly, “.....One more question, what did you do…with him?”

No, not him, not the boy…

“Him?” That was the answer you needed, “How can I trust you if you won't even tell me the truth?"

Why? Why were you so sentimental!? Did you not realize the risks? No, of course not.

NSFW, CW and TW // Minors DNI (signs of pregnancy, intimacy for NSFW)

CW// Signs of emotional abuse, self-loathing, child experimenting, and abuse

TW// Slight suicidal thoughts. (If you ever feel this way, be sure to call a trusted friend/adult or the hotline, know that you are not alone, you are deserving of care and to be heard.)

"I'm sorry, I’ll make sure to do better..." You nod into his hand while his gentle gaze remains on you, he may be a liar but Harley knew he adored you, you’re perfect. His perfect experiment, the only one who understands him, the only responsive and reactionary force he wished to invest in after he was tired from his other sets of experiments. He slept in the bed beside you, his larger hands resting along the arm while you remained in Harley’s arms, you were naive even when you held so much unconditional love for him. His lips travel to your neck, hands intertwined together in the moment where Harley’s lips touch, he notices how much your lips embellish his growing adoration.

When things start to heat up, Harley is there, his arms will wrap around your waist while you admire him, those worry wrinkles, his gentle hands with calluses, and most of all his gaze. Bed creaking, your soft sounds of breathing filling the doctor’s ears whenever those hands of his would roam your frame. At some point he had a moment of lingering, a longing, and it makes him wonder what would you have done if he told the truth? Would you love him enough to fix things, perhaps give him a chance. It was wishful thinking on his end, especially when it comes to his lover. In the intensity of this heated moment between you both, he could feel your hands resting along his face or they’d move to hold him close.

His deep chuckles and breaths, while you both share more kisses than one can count, Harley would let himself sink into your arms while he indulges in everything he loves. About you, it was strange to be in love with someone, someone of his intellect falling for you. A scientist with a bleeding heart and someone who was always willing to cater to him.

Harley would simply lose his mind at the idea of not being able to cradle your form, in life or death maybe but, he simply wouldn't allow it. Not when someone as perfect as you, could fit his standards of experimentation.

Every fiber of your being knew something was wrong, even after you began cuddling again, his grasp of you was firm with the iron grip. The way he’d kiss your forehead while you lean into his bare chest, “Hey....if Leith ever talks to you poorly, let me know…and, try not to worry about the toys. You should be focused on our work.” It goes silent, as you cuddle into him with a distant sad gaze, taking note of his slightly serious tone.

“Okay..”

You lied, now you were worrying for the children more than ever, feeding them and then the visit to Kissy’s room, carefully feeding her you note the long gaze. Kissy slowly moves forward and then her slender arm moves carefully; she begins hugging you close. “It's okay Kissy, I’m fine.”

How could someone of your caliber be so naive and caring? Especially when she and these children rely on you, the only adult to make this right?

"So, you and Harley?" Stella tries to make conversation, you merely nod in agreement, even if he had to sleep on the couch for a couple of days. Somehow it always worked out, because you'd still feed him, tend to him, you could be angry right now and he's already slipping through those cracks and crevices. But when he was angry, he was never one to aim it at you but when he did, you'd offer a hug, some time alone or just to talk.

The thing is this anger wasn't ever aiming to you: his partner, but instead your coworkers who could feign innocent all they want, yet none of them were any better than you or Harley. That is why you hated your sense of morals; how could you date a potential child abuser? What if, he hurts....

"Mz.?" You startle when Stella speaks again, gently moving the Candy-cat toy so he wouldn't get hurt. "I- need to check on the children."

She frowns, "Hey, um...If...Harley is..."

"What?"

"You'll come to me if he does anything right?" Stelle asks, you pause then turn to her while she gives a somber smile to assure any form of Desolate emotions that threaten to spill out.

"Stelle, you and Leith know what he is doing. You never told me; we are no better than him and you shouldn't try to be of help when these children are being treated this way. The least I can do is comfort, nurture and love them." As your back turns to the woman who watches your retesting form she looks down, gripping the Zinnia while Harley, as if to mock her walks by with a Tuberose flower.

He places it in your vase, then looks to Stella, "You should focus on work. I'm sure you both will find a way to rekindle whatever friendship you had."

Whatever Harley told you it was obvious he didn't realize how much it would hurt you at the end, Stella saw the signs clear as day. She was your friend, easy to socialize with, but you always took the time to listen to her dreams and desire to care for the children. As you place more food down for the little ones, Mommy finally speaks again.

"I saw you with Kissy, she's being moved...further down, and... there are more...down below."

"Down, below?" Mommy couldn't help but scowl at your naivety, she felt sorry for you. ".....That boy, Quinn?"

What about Quinn? She tells you softly while you listen, her hands grip your arms to keep you from running. Being outraged, it was quiet...

Down below, Quinn, Marie, how many children...

One last thing to do.

You step into the lab, where Prototype remains. "gOoD tO sEe-E you, mY dEAr.." His metallic hands carefully hold your soft fleshy ones.

But you merely look away, he senses the hesitation to speak and realizes how much you knew. "s0 thE dOcTeR t-TRu-TRULY! Truly did fail, you know a lot but how much?"

Enough to where you were sitting before his creation, "I...I am not any better than him. I asked him to stop hurting you, he was...."

"Angry?" The experiment says in his voice to which you wince and then nod slowly, "Yes but it wasn't enough, you and I both know that." Prototype lifts your chin up.

"oF cOurSe."

"I'm sorry, I cannot apologize enough, I so badly wanted to think that, not everyone is truly a monster, and these children deserve the best....as many have said: Children deserve parents, but parents do not deserve children or deserve to even be parents. But I was truly naive, Mommy knows this." As the Prototype listens, he also twitches.

Harley was coming, so he gently shushes you and then points. You stand, grabbing the files but before you leave. You speak one more time, "Please do not hurt the children, and don't let vengeance cloud your perception."

With that you leave with the door shutting behind you, Harley walks in and notices the files. At first, he wanted to start a long lecture about his experiments being disturbed but you hand him the files. "Sorry, I wanted to help you work..."

Harley smiles at you for a quick moment but then you both go your separate ways, until you stop. "Harley."

"Yes?"

"Have you ever considered the thought of children?"

He pauses at the question, thinking of the implications of you having his child...the thought occurred to him during your intimate nights together. But he truly didn't see the resolve, especially when there are children surrounding you every day. "No, not when we have the Playtime Co. You and I are truly different."

It goes quiet and you leave, but not after chuckling to his little banter. Of course, Harley Sawyer is so full of himself. Very apathetic, very....

Foolish.

Sometimes, life felt like grappling at a thread just to see you survive, the more food you'd distribute the more guilt you felt.

The last straw was probably when you asked him to go down below. ".....Of course, is there a reason?"

"Of course, I want to see my partner's work up close." Harley couldn't help but crack a smile, he holds your hand, like always as if trying to form some sort of emotional power balance. Then his lips connect to your head, "I'd be happy to."

.....

What have you done?

#harley sawyer x reader #harley sawyer #poppy playtime x reader #poppy playtime #stella greyber #slight Stella greyber x reader #mommy long legs #kissy missy #yarnaby mention #harley sawyer poppy playtime

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buckets-and-trees · 3 days ago

Note

I love bed Chem and the follow up!! I’d love to see them bump into each other outside of hook up times - like they’re both in the same coffee shop…and a cute barista is flirting with reader…and Bucky suddenly feels possessive when he sees it happening from across the shop but can’t say anything as they’re just hook up buds and it’s not his place to be jealous 🤭

Even Better Than In My Head

Characters/Pairings: Bucky Barnes x curvy!Millennial female!reader Word Count: 2.9k Summary: Hooking up with Bucky Barnes in the middle of the night has scratched the itch whenever you're craving between your legs, but crossing paths with the man out in the wild in normal life? Much more dangerous than you could have guessed.

Content Warnings: modern AU, hook up culture/bootycall, established sexual relationship

Author Notes: This is a follow-up to Parking Lot Chem and Camaraderie.

Logistical Notes: My first fill for @buckyboybingo (Gym) and my ninth bit for Valentine Storygrams!

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

“This entire table is a masterpiece!” your sister exclaims, thoroughly impressed and overjoyed. “I seriously owe you!”

“You do!” you chide. “You owe me many, many favors.”

“I’d promise my first-born, but that ship has already sailed!” she replies, gesturing at her daughter - your niece - who is currently engaged in some sort of statue tag game with a gaggle of other children her age.

“I’m serious, though. You know you absolutely saved me.”

"I know," you say, waving off her gratitude with a smile. "That's what sisters are for, right?"

You both turn to survey the booth, a riot of pink and red decorations adorning every surface. Heart-shaped cookies, cupcakes with swirling frosting rosettes, raspberry-lemon bars, and delicate palmiers drizzled with white chocolate and heart-shaped sprinkles cover the table in neat, enticing rows.

"Seriously, though," your sister continues, lowering her voice, "this could make or break my campaign for PTA president. The entire board is here, and they're all watching to see how this goes."

You nod, remembering the frantic phone call you'd received two nights ago.

Your sister's voice had been a mix of panic and exhaustion as she explained how her usually angelic toddler had decided to test out his superhero abilities by leaping off the kitchen counter. The result? A nasty gash that required a trip to urgent care and several stitches. But to make matters worse, she’d only been so distracted to allow the failed test-flight of her two-year-old because she’d been trying to figure out why her oven would turn on, but refused to heat up past 180 degrees - nowhere near close enough to take care of her baking needs.

So you agreed - or offered, you really don’t quite remember how this part of the conversation went at this point - to take care of making all the baked goods.

“Couldn't let my favorite sister crash and burn at the Valentine's Day bake sale, could I?"

"I'm your only sister, you goof," she retorts with a laugh. "But again, thank you. I don't know what I would have done without you."

As you're about to respond, your sister's eyes suddenly widen, and a sly grin spreads across her face. She leans in close, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Speaking of paying you back, I think I'm about to start right now."

You follow her gaze across the crowded gymnasium, your curiosity piqued. Through the sea of parents and children, a tall figure is making his way towards your booth. As he draws closer, you can't help but notice how he seems to part the crowd effortlessly, his presence commanding yet somehow warm.

"See that absolutely gorgeous man heading our way?" your sister murmurs, her excitement palpable. "That's Aiden Hartley. He's a single dad, a widower, and practically the perfect gentleman."

You try to maintain your composure as Aiden approaches, but it's difficult not to stare. He's easily over six feet with a build that suggests he's no stranger to the gym. His short blonde hair catches the light, looking almost golden under the fluorescent glare of the school's overhead lighting. Even from a distance, you can see his eyes - a striking shade of green that reminds you of summer leaves.

As Aiden reaches your booth, a warm smile spreads across his face. Your heart skips a beat.

"Ladies," he greets you both, his voice deep and smooth. "I have to say, this spread looks absolutely incredible."

Your sister jumps in, "Oh, it's all thanks to my amazing sister here! Aiden, you haven’t met her yet, but she's the baking genius."

Aiden's gaze returns to you, a spark of interest in those mesmerizing green eyes. "Is that so? Well, I'm thoroughly impressed. I'm Carter’s dad, by the way, he’s in the same class as your niece." He extends his hand.

You introduce yourself, hoping your palm isn't too sweaty as you shake his hand. His grip is firm but gentle, and you can't help but notice how your hand seems to fit very nicely into his.

"So, what would you recommend?" Aiden asks, gesturing to the array of sweets.

“I’d like one of the cupcakes,” the last voice you’re expecting to hear interrupts from just behind you, and you whip around to find yourself face to face with Bucky, the man who has been regularly - if intermittently - wrecking you sexually.

What on earth is he doing here?

Not only is he here, he’s looking devastatingly handsome in a dark blue button-down and jeans. Your breath catches in your throat as memories of your late-night encounter flood your mind.

"One of the chocolate ones," Bucky drawls, his eyes roaming over the baked goods before settling on you with a heated gaze. "Is that a strawberry buttercream on top?"

“Mhmm,” you manage to nod, throat completely dry, brain trying to figure out how to function.

You’re not supposed to be seeing this man in the light of day - does not compute, does not compute.

"Looks like someone's been busy in the kitchen," he adds.

Your sister, oblivious to the tension crackling between you and Bucky, beams at him. "Yes! Isn't it amazing? My sister made everything here."

Bucky's lips curl into a smirk. "Is that so? You’re clearly skilled with your hands - the piping on this frosting is flawless,” he says, handing cash to your sister in exchange for one of the cupcakes.

He brings the treat to his nose, inhaling deeply, his eyes never leaving yours. "Smells divine," he murmurs, voice low enough that only you can hear. Then, with a wink that makes your knees weak, he turns and strides away, weaving through the crowd with the same effortless grace that brought him to your booth. His confident stride draws more than a few appreciative glances from the other parents.

Your sister nudges you with her elbow, breaking you out of your daze. "See, I told you you're too modest with your baking skills," she whispers excitedly. "Bucky Barnes is usually a man of few words, and he dropped plenty just now."

You nod absently, still reeling from Bucky's sudden appearance and the way he'd looked at you. Your mind races, trying to process the conflicting emotions swirling within you. On one hand, there's the familiar spark of desire that Bucky always ignites. On the other, there's a new, tentative flutter of interest as you glance back at Aiden, who's patiently waiting with a warm smile.

Your sister, ever the matchmaker, seamlessly steers the conversation back to Aiden. "So, Aiden, you were asking about recommendations?" She gives you a subtle but pointed look.

You clear your throat. "Right. Well, the raspberry-lemon bars are a personal favorite. They've got just the right balance of sweet and tart."

Aiden's eyes light up. "That sounds perfect. I'll take two, please." As your sister boxes up his order, he turns back to you. "So, do you bake professionally? These look like they could be in a high-end bakery."

You laugh, shaking your head. "Oh no, it's just a hobby. I work in marketing, actually."

"Well, you certainly have a talent for it," Aiden says, his smile warm and genuine. "I can’t wait to try these,” he adds, holding up his box.

As you're about to respond to Aiden's compliment, your sister suddenly gasps and slaps her forehead dramatically. "Oh no! I completely forgot!" She turns to you with an exaggerated look of distress. "The PTA was supposed to set up the face-painting station, but I just realized we left all the supplies in my car!"

You raise an eyebrow, sensing the poorly disguised matchmaking attempt, but play along. "Oh, that's not good. You'd better go take care of that."

Your sister nods vigorously, already backing away from the booth. "Absolutely! Can't have disappointed kids on Valentine's Day!" She pauses, then turns to Aiden with a look of calculated innocence. "Aiden, I hate to impose, but would you mind helping my sister man the booth until I get back? It shouldn't take more than fifteen or twenty minutes.”

Aiden’s eyes flash to you, gleaming with amusement, clearly recognizing your sister's ploy for what it is, but he plays along anyway. "Of course! I'd be more than happy to lend a hand... or take an order or two," he jokes, winking at you.

Your cheeks flush a with heat, but you’re not totally unhappy with her shenanigans.

Your sister rushes off and Aiden takes her place behind the table. As the two of you settle into a rhythm working the table, you can't help but feel a spark of connection. His easy smile and warm demeanor put you at ease, and soon you're chatting effortlessly about everything from your shared love of books to your favorite local restaurants.

"So, marketing, huh?" Aiden asks during a lull. "What kind of projects do you work on?"

You launch into a brief explanation of your latest campaign, surprised at how easily the conversation flows. Aiden listens attentively, asking insightful questions that show he's genuinely interested. His green eyes sparkle with intelligence, and you find yourself drawn in by his charm.

"That sounds fascinating," he says, leaning in slightly. "I'd love to hear more about it sometime. Maybe over coffee?"

Your heart flutters at the invitation, but before you can respond, your eyes are inexplicably drawn across the crowded gymnasium. Through the sea of parents and children, you spot Bucky leaning against the far wall.

He's standing slightly apart from the crowd, his presence both magnetic and aloof. The sleeves of his dark blue plaid shirt are rolled up to his elbows, revealing the corded muscles of his forearms. His hair, usually disheveled when you see him, is neatly combed back into a bun, accentuating the sharp angles of his jaw.

As if sensing your gaze, Bucky's eyes lock with yours from across the room. A slow, knowing smile spreads across his face as he brings the cupcake to his lips. You watch, transfixed, as he takes a deliberate bite, his eyes never leaving yours.

The chocolate cake yields easily, and a smear of pink frosting clings to his upper lip. Your mouth goes dry as you watch his tongue dart out, slowly and purposefully licking away the sweet confection.

The sight sends a jolt of electricity through your body, igniting a fire low in your belly. Memories of that same tongue exploring your most intimate places flood your mind. You can almost feel the ghost of it and press your legs together.

Suddenly aware that you've been staring, you snap your attention back to Aiden, who's looking at you expectantly. You realize he's still waiting for an answer about coffee.

"Oh, um, yes," you stammer, trying to regain your composure. "Coffee sounds great."

Aiden's face lights up with a warm smile. "Wonderful! How about this Saturday?"

You nod, pushing thoughts of Bucky to the back of your mind. "Saturday works for me."

As you exchange numbers with Aiden, you can't help but feel a mix of excitement and guilt. Excitement at the prospect of getting to know this kind, handsome man better. Guilt because you know that no matter how charming Aiden is, a part of you is still thinking about Bucky and the raw, primal energy between you.

About how he probably would have no problem dragging you away to his car and fucking you in the parking lot right now.

You think that’s something Aiden would never do .

The rest of the bake sale passes in good conversation with Aiden, chatting between customers and stealing glances at each other when you think the other isn't looking. You learn that he's an architect, specializing in sustainable design, and his passion for his work is evident in the way his eyes light up as he describes his latest project.

"It's a community center," he explains, his hands moving animatedly as he speaks. "We're incorporating solar panels, rainwater harvesting systems, and even a rooftop garden. The goal is to create a space that not only serves the community but also educates them about sustainable living."

You find yourself genuinely interested, asking questions about the design process and the challenges he faces. As you listen, you can't help but appreciate how different this interaction is from your usual encounters with Bucky. With Aiden, there's a warmth, a sense of connection that’s so natural.

But your gaze drifts regularly to Bucky. Bucky has become attached to a young boy who looks to be about six years old. The resemblance between them is striking – the same strong jawline, the same chestnut brown hair. They grin and laugh together, Bucky follows him around to the face painting, a craft station, poses with him in the photo booth.

All you have ever shared with Bucky is sex. The two of you had given next to no time to small talk even in the first few days of messaging on the hook up app and in your first meet up. You had both made it clear you used each other for sex and didn’t want anything else from the connection.

As the bake sale winds down, your sister finally returns, apologizing profusely for needing to cover the face painting instead of helping at the booth. She winks at you when Aiden isn't looking, clearly pleased with her efforts. Aiden continues to linger, helping to fold up the tablecloth and carry boxes.

This morning you were thoroughly single, no need or with to do much to be otherwise. But now you find yourself torn between two very different men. Aiden, with his warm smile and gentle demeanor, represents the possibility of a genuine connection, of building something meaningful. Your conversation flows easily, and you can't deny the flutter in your chest when he laughs at your jokes.

But then there's Bucky. Your attention drawn back to him over and over, watching as he had interacted with the young boy who must be his son. It's a side of him you've never seen before, and it stirs something unexpected within you. The tenderness in his eyes as he looks at his child is a stark contrast to the raw intensity you're used to seeing when he looks at you.

As you and Aiden start packing up the remaining baked goods, Bucky approaches your booth once more. This time, the little boy is with him, clinging to his hand and looking up at you with wide, curious eyes.

"Hey," Bucky says, his voice smooth and charming. "We wanted to grab a few more treats before you packed up." His eyes flick to Aiden, then back to you, a flash of something - possessiveness? jealousy? - passing over his face.

"Of course," you manage, brightening your voice as you direct your attention to the small boy. "What would you like?"

The little boy tugs on Bucky's hand, pointing at the heart-shaped cookies. "Can I have those, Daddy?"

Your heart does a little flip at hearing Bucky called 'Daddy'. It's such a stark contrast to the Bucky you know - the one who whispers filthy things in your ear as he pounds into you.

"Sure thing, buddy. How about we get a few to take home for later?" Bucky suggests, his voice gentle as he speaks to his son.

You can't help but smile at the interaction as you carefully package up a half dozen of the heart-shaped cookies. As you hand the box to Bucky, your fingers brush against his, sending a whoosh of butterflies through your stomach. His eyes lock with yours, dark and intense, before he glances meaningfully at Aiden.

"Thanks," Bucky says, his voice low. "These look delicious. I'm sure they taste even better than they look." The double meaning in his words is clear, and you feel a flush creeping up your neck.

"I hope you enjoy them," you manage to reply, your voice slightly breathless.

As Bucky turns to leave, his son looks up at you with a shy smile. "Thank you for the treats!”

"You're very welcome, young man," you reply, smiling warmly at the little boy. As they walk away, you can't help but watch Bucky's retreating form, admiring the way his shirt clings to his broad shoulders.

You and Aiden finish packing up the last of the baked goods, and he helps you carry the boxes to your car.

"So, about Saturday," he says as you close the trunk. "There's this great little café downtown that does this stuffed french toast that will send you to heaven. How does that sound?”

You smile at Aiden, genuinely excited about the prospect of getting to know him better. "That sounds wonderful," you reply. "I love a good french toast."

As you exchange details for your upcoming date, you can't help but feel a mix of anticipation and guilt. Aiden is everything you should want - kind, intelligent, and clearly interested in more than just a physical relationship. Yet, as you watch him walk away, your mind drifts back to Bucky.

Later that night, as you're getting ready for bed, your phone buzzes with a text. Your heart races as you see Bucky's name on the screen.

BUCKY: Those cookies were delicious. But not as sweet as your cunt.

You bite your lip, torn between responding and ignoring the message. Before you can decide, another text comes through.

BUCKY: I'm in the neighborhood. Have any of that frosting left?

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #buckyboybingo2025 #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x yn #aspen wrote something #female reader #bed chem bucky #aspen's valentine storygrams

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kiszjuli · 1 day ago

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BURNT HEARTS .ᐟ

✸ sweetheart!donghyuck x fem!reader | genre. fluff | w.c. 2.0k | ♡

↳ synopsis. lee donghyuck never stepped foot in a kitchen for more than a midnight snack, but for valentine's day he is determined to bake something for you-the campus's best baker and the girl who stole his heart without even trying. when things don't go as he planned, he still shows up armed with charm.

↳playlist. strawberry sundae - nct djj. because of you - minho & ningning. by my side - junny. beaches - beabadoobee. sugar - maroon5. perfect ed sheeran.

the soft hum of the oven filled the small campus bakery, along with the smell of chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry mingling together. you wipe your face with your rolled up sleeve on your arm, feeling the soft tickle of flour on your face. you were currently decorating the first batch of perfectly golden vanilla cupcakes. a piping bag filled with a smooth buttercream in your hands as you lean down to the counter. with precise movements, you swirled the icing onto the cupcakes, then topped them with edible pink and red glitter.

the delicious smell drifting outside of the bakery causing people to stop and look for a few seconds in curiosity. it lured multiple people, the feeling of being watched while you worked not foreign to you.

this time however, someone stayed, leaning against the doorframe with a grin.

"wow, look at you," donghyuck spoke, ripping you from your concentration. "the bob ross of cupcakes."

not bothering to look up, knowing his voice all too well. "if you came to steal one, you're out of luck. these are for the valentine's charity event tomorrow only,"

"you read me all wrong," he said stepping further into the bakery. "i'm here to admire the art and dedication. it's a little intimidating, honestly,"

you smirked finally standing up straight. "intimidated by some cupcakes?" you tilt your head. "that's a new one,"

"no, by you." he corrected, now standing at the closest table to where you were working. he folded his arms as he watched you easily shape a cupcake into a heart. "how do you make this look so easy?"

"it's not that hard, you just have to focus hard and practice," you said rolling eyes with a laugh. "i'm sure you could do it too if you tried hard enough," you say motioning to him with the piping bag in your hand, before dipping back down and swirling the icing again.

donghyuck snorted. "please, if i even touched that piping bag, it would end up everywhere but the cupcake,"

your hands remained steady as you laughed. finally finishing the last cupcake of the batch, you put the piping bag down. "it's really just about patience and precision..two things i'm guessing you're not that great at?" you teased.

he gasps dramatically. "well, i'll have you know that i'm very patient and and precise." he turns his nose up. hearing you laugh, he pipes up again. "for example, every time i come in here, i precisely plan out how i'm gonna make you laugh, and i'm still patiently waiting for the day you let me sneak a cupcake."

you rolled your eyes again as you cleaned up your baking space a litte, however you couldn't stop the smile creeping onto your face. "well, donghyuck, if you're so patient , you should actually try baking some time rather than just claiming it's too difficult."

"challange accepted," he siad immediately. he leaned off the table and uncrossed his arms. "i'm gonna bake you something so good, you'll forget about all of these," he says motioning to the cupcakes surrounding you.

you nod teasingly "sure, just try not to start a fire,"

"hey, have some faith," he said laughing as he made his way out, but not forgetting to stop by the cookies decorated with on themed decorations, taking one that said 'love'. and before you could stop him, he was already out of the bakery.

shaking your head with a fond smile, you got back to work.

─

donghyuck burst into his dorm room, his hair slightly messy from the cold breeze outside and a determined look on his face. Mark glanced up from his laptop, where he was seated cross-legged on his bed, wearing headphones.

“you’re back early,” mark said, pulling off his headphones. “i thought you were studying at the library.”

“wasn’t studying,” donghyuck declared, tossing his bag onto the couch. “i was researching.”

mark blinked. “researching…what?”

donghyuck grinned as he held up his phone, with a recipe pulled up. “i’m going to bake something. for valentine’s day. for her.”

mark paused, staring at him like he’d grown a second head. “you’re going to bake? like… you in the kitchen? with an oven?…that’s on?”

donghyuck rolled his eyes.

“why does everyone act like i’m incapable of doing basic things?” he groaned, throwing himself onto his bed. “it’s simple. melt the chocolate, mix it, cool it—and bam, you’re done. easy-peasy.”

mark laughed, amused at his words. “you literally told me you ‘don’t trust ovens’ because they make ‘loud noises.’

“that was a obviously a joke,” donghyuck said quickly, though the heat rushing to his ears said otherwise. “and besides, it’s different this time. i’m doing this for her.”

mark tilted his head, a small smile forming. “so you’re really into her, huh?”

he didn’t even hesitate. “of course. she’s amazing. Have you seen her work? not to mention, she’s smart, witty, kind, beautiful.” he listed out. “i need her to know i’m not just some loud guy who’s always stealing cookies from her bakery.”

mark snorted. “but that’s exactly what you are,”

“shut up,” donghyuck shot back, sitting up. “look, i’m serious about this. i want to make her something special. she deserves that.”

mark leaned back, studying his face. “alright, fine. if you’re that determined, i’ll help.”

donghyuck’s eyes lit up. “really?”

“yeah,” mark said with a shrug. “but if you mess anything up, you’re cleaning it by yourself.”

─

an hour later, donghyuck stood in the small dorm kitchen, nervously stirring melted chocolate in a pot over the stove. he was standing at least a foot away from the oven, with an awkward arch of his back, and elbow in the air. mark tried to hold back his laugh as he leaned against the counter, supervising like a skeptical coach.

“careful, hyuck, don’t let it burn,” mark spoke up. “and stop standing so far away it’s not gonna bite you,” he lets out a small laugh.

“it”s fine, i’ve got this,” donghyuck brushed off his warning.

the second he spoke, smoke began to curl upwards from under the pot. “wait is-“

“hyuck its burning!” mark shouted.

“but it- oh shit- wait!” donghyuck panicked and grabbed the handle of the pot. feeling the hot metal burn into his skin, he yelped probably a little louder than necessary, he dropped it causing the burning chocolate to spill out onto the stove and counter a little.

mark sighed as the smoke filled the room. he turned off the stove and grabbed a towel to wave around, hoping that the smoke detector wouldn’t go off. “i thought you said this was easy!”

donghyuck turned to mark after staring at the burnt chocolate, the smell not so pleasant anymore. “the stupid recipe told me to do the wrong thing!”

after opening a window, mark looked back to donghyuck. “well..what now?”

donghyuck sighed and his shoulders slumped. “i don’t know…i guess ill just buy her something..”

mark felt his heart twinge at the defeated look on his roommates’ face. “you’re doing this because you want it to be special right?”

after seeing donghyuck nod slowly he spoke. “then try again, even if it’s not perfect. she’ll see that you put effort in and that’s all that should matter,”

“fine. but if i burn the next one too, im never stepping foot near an oven again. i don’t like the noises they make anyway,” he says with a scowl that mark laughs at.

─

needless to say, after donghyuck tried again on valentine’s day to make the chocolate; he burnt it again. thankfully not as bad, but it still wasn’t up to his standards.

which is why as he stands outside your dorm door, he hesitates with a slightly frowned look.

when he finally knocks and you open the door, his face immediately lights up at the sight of you.

“happy valentine’s day,” he says shoving the pink box with a red silky ribbon around it to you.

“what’s this?” you ask cautiously but feel a smile creeping up to your face as you grab the box from his hands.

"homemade chocolates," he replies before rubbing the back of his neck. "kinda,"

"kinda?" you raise a brow.

donghyuck groans dramatically and walks inside your dorm uninvited, plopping down dramatically on what he assumes was your bed. “alright, i may have underestimated how hard it is to melt chocolate without burning it… or how much coco powder is too much… or the fact that you’re supposed to let it set before you start decorating.” he rambles.

opening the box, you're left biting back a laugh at the sight before you: uneven lumps of chocolate in odd shapes. some were decorated with sprinkles and others with what looked like smudged writing that you can’t quite decipher.

you were turning your head from side to side trying your best to read them.

“what does this one say?” you ask, pointing to a piece that looks like it’s meant to spell something. you hold it out for him to see.

he leans over, squinting. “i think it’s supposed to say ‘be mine,’ but the chocolate pen thing exploded halfway through.”

you can’t hold back your laughter anymore, doubling over as donghyuck pouts. “hey! stop laughing! i tried, okay? i even watched, like, 40 youtube videos, but those people are liars. they make it look easy!”

“why didn’t you just buy some?” you ask, still giggling as you pop a small piece of chocolate into your mouth. It’s… not the greatest, but it was still edible.

donghyuck shrugs with a pout, his usual confidence faltering a bit. “because… i wanted it to be special,” he admits, avoiding your gaze. “i know i mess around and joke a lot, but i wanted to do something that actually took effort. for you.”

the sincerity in his voice takes you by surprise, and you feel your laughter fade into something softer. a small tint of pink painting your cheeks.

“thank you, donghyuck,” you say, placing the box on your desk and sitting beside him. “it’s actually really sweet. even if they're.. you know…”

“terrible? completely awful? atrocious?” he supplies, grinning despite himself.

“chaotic,” you correct, smiling back.

there’s a moment of silence between you before he nudges your shoulder gently. “so… did it work? are you impressed?”

you pretend to think about it, tapping your chin with your pointer finger. “hmm, i guess i’ll let you know after you take me out for ice cream to make up for the beautiful chocolate.” your emphasis making him stifle a laugh.

he lights up, his grin turning playful again. “deal. but you have to promise not to tell anyone about the chocolate disaster.”

“nope, no promises,” you tease, standing from your bed and grabbing your coat as he groans in mock defeat.

as you walk out of your dorm together, you glance at donghyuck and find yourself smiling. sure, the chocolates were a complete disaster, but somehow, he’d still managed to make your day special in his own, perfectly imperfect way. something he seemed to do every time he was around.

─

the ice cream shop was pretty quiet, leaving only the sound of spoons scraping the bottom of bowls. you sat across from donghyuck at the small table. as you both slowly finished your sundaes you spoke up.

“i never thought you’d actually try to bake for me,” you said, a teasing smile on your lips. you took another spoonful of your strawberry sundae.

donghyuck chuckled, looking down at his half-eaten sundae. “i wasn’t really sure i could, but i wanted to do something special. even if it didn’t work out.”

you paused, studying him closely. he didn’t look embarrassed or frustrated like he did before; instead, there was a quiet sincerity in his eyes, as if he was letting his guard down with you completely.

“you didn’t need to make anything,” you said softly, “just being with me is enough.”

donghyuck’s gaze softened, his fingers brushing against yours on the table subtly. he leaned forward, the air between you filled with something unspoken.

and without thinking, you closed the distance, letting your lips meet his in a soft, gentle kiss. it wasn’t rushed, but filled with everything you’d both been avoiding saying.

when you pulled back, he smiled softly, a warmth in his eyes. “i think that was worth almost burning my dorm down”

you laughed, a little breathless. “maybe so.”

─

⁀➷⊹ ࣪ ˖~THE LA LA LOVE SERIES .ᐟ

taggies(open) ↳ @kittydollzz @huffnpuffckk @completelyjae @lovesuhng @nae-vm @ayibdorrt @chocoriki @yomaman @yukisroom97

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ariestrxsh · 6 hours ago

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sub!bsf!matt x bsf!reader

𖦹 content warning: smut, mutual masturbation, voyeurism/exhibitionism, edging, squirting, getting caught

𖦹 summary: matt makes a bold claim that squirting is a myth, and you prove to him that he's wrong

dividers by the one and only @vxnitra 𖦹

TUNNEL VISION

"I don't believe for a second that it's real. It's just something they show in porn to make it more exciting," Matt's voice broke the silence of the room as he came walking through the front door with his two brothers after filming their car video.

"That's a bold claim," Nick smugly responded, rolling his eyes. "Just say you're a virgin, Matt. It's less syllables." Nick started up the staircase, leaving behind the conversation that didn't really concern him at all.

"Squirting is totally a real thing, Matt. You're just dumb," Chris blankly stated. "How would you know, Chris? You ever seen a girl squirt?" Matt shot back, raising his eyebrows and shrugging his shoulders. "No, I haven't seen it, but you'd have to be an idiot to think it's a myth," Chris huffed, heading off towards his room. "Whatever," Matt mumbled under his breath.

"Hey, thanks for letting us use your car for the video. Sometimes I worry that mine is too recognizable when we take it out around here," Matt turned his attention towards you, tossing you your keys. "Yeah, don't mention it," you reached out with both hands, and they landed in your palms with a loud jingling sound.

Matt ran his fingers through his hair and plopped down on the couch beside you with a sigh. You let out a chuckle as you shook your head at his naivety. "What? What's so funny?" Matt wondered, furrowing his brow and narrowing his perfect blue eyes at you.

"Did you say that squirting isn't real?" You inquired, trying to stifle your laughter. "Yeah, why?" Matt innocently asked. "I have to show you something," you declared, standing up and grabbing him by the hand. "What?" Matt skeptically questioned you, completely caught off guard by you pulling him to his feet. "What are you going to show me?"

"Shhh," you hushed him, turning around and holding a finger to your lips. "You can't tell anyone. Just follow me." You led him out the front door and into the warm, summer night to your car that was parked in the driveway.

You demanded that he get in without any further explanation, and he climbed into your passenger seat with a perplexed look plastered to his face. You moved your chair back and lifted your hips, tugging down your pajama bottoms.

"What are you doing!?" Matt exclaimed, staring wide-eyed at you. He couldn't help but let his gaze wander over your exposed legs, awaiting your response as you discarded your clothing onto the floor of your car. "Squirting is real, and I can prove it," you answered him, looking around to make sure there were no witnesses.

"Y-you're gonna sh-show me?" Matt asked, blinking rapidly to make sure his eyes weren't deceiving him. "Why not? I love any chance I can get to prove you wrong," you arrogantly responded, a sly smirk forming in the corner of your lips.

You clicked on the overhead light, and you turned your body to face him to give him a better view of the show you were about to put on. Finally, you reached for your vibrator that was stowed away in your center console, making Matt's jaw drop.

"You just keep that in there?" Matt wondered, imagining how differently the car video would have gone if any of the three of them had stumbled upon it. "Yeah, I never know when I'm gonna need it. It's come in handy quite a few times," you admitted, winking at him and slowly parting your thighs.

His curious blue eyes immediately dropped to your bare cunt that was already slick with arousal. It immediately became his object of focus, holding him in a trance. "Wow," he whispered, admiring the way it glistened in the dim lighting.

He instinctively reached out to touch it, but you playfully smacked his wrist. "I said I can make myself squirt, not you can," you teased him. "This is purely for educational purposes." He just sat there silently with his jaw hanging open and his eyes wide as he nodded and pulled back his hand.

"You know what would really help me, though?" You asked, switching on your vibrator. "W-what would that be?" Matt wondered, his gaze still locked on what you had between your legs. "You should do it, too," you suggested, trapping your bottom lip between your teeth and glancing down at the tent that was taking form in his sweats.

You shuddered, and your leg twitched as you rested the buzzing toy against your clit. "You want me to..?" Matt asked, his voice trailing off as he reached for his bulge. You bit down on your lip a bit harder and nodded as you gazed into his blue eyes. "Please, Matt. It'll make me squirt so hard if you do it with me," you cooed in a soft voice that Matt couldn't say no to.

"O-okay," he stammered, reaching into his waistband and pulling out his half-hard dick. You eyed his swollen, mushroom-shaped head as he wrapped his fingers around his shaft. His mouth fell open and a strangled moan left the boy as he started to massage his cock for you. It immediately grew in size, blood rushing to it. A bit of clear fluid pooled at his slit as his hand moved up and down over his length.

"It's so pretty, Matt," you told him, gawking at the way his precum started to drool down the side of his tip. He blushed at your compliment. He'd never touched himself in front of a woman before, never mind a woman who was also touching herself, but in this intimate moment the two of you shared, he was beginning to learn new things about himself. He loved watching and being watched.

The whole time, his gaze flickered between your weeping hole and the way your face was contorted in a look of sheer pleasure. The vision that played out before him was completely hypnotizing.

He wet his lips and let out another pretty sound as he watched you take your free hand and start lining your fingers up with your entrance. He gasped and started to stroke his cock faster as he watched them disappear inside of you. He couldn't look away even if he wanted to.

You turned your toy up to the next setting, causing you to shiver again. A needy whimper unfurled from your pouty lips as you started swiveling your hips for a deeper sensation while your rode your fingers.

Matt started paying close attention to his tip, gently making circles on his most sensitive spot with his thumb and using his precum as lube. His eyebrows knitted together as he indulged in the lovely sensation. "Oh, fuck," he groaned as his cock twitched beneath his touch.

You couldn't get enough of the sight before you - his pink-tinted cheeks, his parted lips, and the look of bliss inscribed on his face as he started to stroke his length again. His blue eyes were glossy with lust, and they didn't stray from your bare pussy that was on display just for him.

The two of you watched each other intently, getting off on the other's pleasure while you each sped up your movements, both of your delighted sounds filling the car. "You're doing such a good job, Matt. You're making me so close," you whined in-between your satisfied moans. He squeezed his fingers around his shaft as he moved his hand up and down, feeling the pressure begin to build in his lower stomach.

Suddenly, you shut off your toy and removed your fingers. Despite pausing your movements, you continued to clench around nothing. Matt slowed his strokes and swallowed hard. "W-why'd you stop?" He stammered his way through his sentence, worried he'd done something to kill the mood.

"Don't worry, baby. I'm just getting started," you responded in a seductive voice, your eyes flickering up at his. You turned your vibrator back on, sinking into the wonderful sensation of being watched while you played with yourself again. You took your two fingers and inserted them once more, slowly picking up speed.

"D-does that make you squirt harder? When y-you edge yourself?" Matt nervously asked, lazily massaging his cock as he admired your delicate folds. "Mhmm," you purred. Matt had secretly always wanted to see you like this, and the reality of it exceeded his expectations.

He brushed his thumb over his sensitive tip again, sending goosebumps across his skin as a breathy groan fell from his lips. "You're so.. responsive," you told him, watching the way his cock throbbed against his palm.

"Does it feel good?" You wondered, knowing it must have but still dying to hear him say it. He bit down on his lip as his bedroom eyes raised to meet yours. "So good," he softly replied before his gaze dropped down to the way you methodically fucked yourself.

"I can't wait to cum all over my fingers for you," you whimpered, turning your vibrator up to the highest setting. Matt lifted his hips up off of the seat and started thrusting his cock into his tightly closed fist, pretending it was you. The sounds he made became more urgent, and his eyelids grew heavy as he watched you.

All of a sudden, you withdrew all stimulation again, and Matt watched as your pelvic muscles rhythmically contracted around the emptiness. "Oh, fuck. You're so wet," Matt commented as he watched your pussy drool onto the leather seat beneath you. You managed to chuckle through your panting. "I know, and it's all your fault, baby," you purred, turning your toy back on.

You took a few deep breaths, trying to slow your heart rate and maintain control as you were teetering on the brink of orgasm. Your fingers found their way to your entrance again, and Matt watched as you stretched around them.

"O-oh, fuck. I don't think I can t-take much m-more," Matt whined as he fisted his cock as fast as he could, rutting his tip into his palm as he drove his hips upward. The way Matt was tripping over his words and falling apart in front of you made it nearly impossible for you to hold off much longer.

The moisture of your combined breathing started to lightly fog the windows. You watched Matt's cock twitched before white ropes of cum squirted out of the tip, painting his hand, his clothing, and the leather interior of your car.

A string of moaning and incoherent babbling streamed from his lips as he finished in front of you. The way his face looked as he reached his climax coupled with the pretty sounds he emitted were enough to send you over the edge. Your head fell back against the driver's side window, and you slammed your eyes shut as you came unraveled.

The low hum of your vibrator reverberated throughout your whole being, leaving you at the mercy of your climax. You felt a familiar sensation, the knot in your stomach getting ready to snap. You voluntarily tensed your abdominal muscles, squirting as you finished, and Matt watched in awe as you sprayed the window behind him.

"Oh!" You exclaimed, trembling as the milky substance gushed from you again, making the most beautiful mess Matt had ever seen. "Holy fuck," Matt whispered in shock of what he'd just witnessed. You removed your fingers and shut off your toy, slowing your breathing as you recovered from the intensity of your orgasm.

"I stand corrected. That was impressive," Matt admitted, nodding in approval. At the same time, you both glanced up over his shoulder to see your arousal scattered across the glass of the passenger side door.

That's when you both noticed him. On the other side of that glass was a shocked-looking Chris, his mouth agape and his eyes bigger than you'd ever seen them before. Matt grabbed his cock again to hide it in his hand, and you slammed your legs shut, reaching to turn off the overhead light as Matt started to slowly roll down the window.

Despite the moisture that had started to steam up the car, Chris had seen everything and was just as mesmerized by your hypnotic movements as Matt was. Chris' wide stare flickered between the two of you. "I was, um, showing Matt that squirting is a real thing," you murmured under your breath.

"Yeah, I got that. Um, I just came back to check to see if I left my phone in here when we did the car video," Chris nervously replied, still looking like a deer in the headlights. You bit back an embarrassed smile as you reached for your bottoms that were on the floor.

"Uh, here," Matt said in a shaky voice as he reached for Chris' cell that was stashed in the cupholder that neither of you had noticed until this very moment. He handed it to his brother through the partially open window with a trembling hand, and Chris quickly grabbed it from him.

"Uh, thanks," Chris responded, blushing hard and glancing at the both of you one more time before he headed back inside. Each of your hearts were pounding in your chests as you made eye contact one last time before the two of you erupted in a fit of laughter at the absurdity of the situation.

"Well, now Chris can say he's seen a girl squirt, too," you chuckled.

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #sub matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo smut #matthew bernard sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you

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hwalovs · 3 days ago

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Absolution, My Fine Friend (M)

Pairing; Priest! Jayce x Fem!Reader Word Count; 4.9k Warnings; Porn Without Plot (kind of), mutual masturbation, finger sucking, drooling (Jayce), he gets talked through it, misuse of the confessional, trying not to get caught, paper eating, misuse of a bible, blasphemy, religious kink, corruption kink.

Summary; Father Talis has done his best to forget the sin that permeates his office, taking refuge in the confessional. Maybe, by listening to other ask to be forgiven, Father Talis himself can earn his absolution.

First Sin; Temptation Second Sin; Absolution (currently here)

A/N; this can be read on its own, i think, but part one was a hit in my books and i couldn't stop thinking about Father Jayce and reader. Theres also a little someone on ao3 who sent the most amazing comment and I got a fire ignited under my ass so now we're here. Again, this is dedicated to my babies on discord, all of them. This wouldn't be here without them. Anywho, enjoy!

THIS IS NOT EDITED!

DO NOT COPY, REPOST ON OTHER SITES, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK WITHOUT PERMISSION!

Absolution; Formal release from guilt, obligation, or punishment.

It’s customary for the Priest to wait in the confessional, sitting in the small box for the small door on the other side to open, a person to come sit down, and confess to him their sins. From there, he would listen, give advice, and pray with them before sending them on their way. It was something he had done multiple times before, finding comfort in the enclosed space. His own body heat would keep him warm, heating the small space rather quickly. Taking off his rosary, he could drag the small chain through his fingers, playing with the beads. He would think of prayers, roll a bead between the pads of his fingers, grip the small cross and lightly kiss it. He would do this for hours, sometimes someone would arrive, sometimes there would be no one.

The sun was shining brightly through the small lattice on the door in front of him, directly in his eyesight, blinding him. Gold light filtered through stained glass, casting an array of colorful rays across the pews and patrons. Eyes clenched shut, he sits taller while leaning his head back against the wood, sighing. There was an imaginary clock in his mind, constantly ticking away, bringing a faux comfort. He could hear the slight commotion of people still in the church, talking to loved ones and neighbors who were all smiles and high off of the worship he held. He needed something more to keep him distracted, the LED clock in the confessional was silent, unlike the clock in his bedroom. Its ticking filled his mind now, his foot tapping the ground along with it.

Arms moving, he moves the slowly sliding bible back into its place on his lap, the book small enough to sit idly on his thigh. It rocks back and forth in time with the bouncing of his foot, the movement bringing yet another distraction.

He wished to go back to his room, sit at his desk in his office- no, the desk in his bedroom. He hadn’t sat at the desk in his office for eight days, two hours- his eyes crack open to peek at the small LED clock in the corner of the confessional- and forty-five minutes. He prayed for the strength to sit at the mahogany desk, to write correspondence to other churches, and send letters to the people who gracefully sent donations.

Yet, perhaps he didn’t pray hard enough, didn’t kneel at the side of his bed long enough. Didn’t sit in this small box long enough. Perhaps, God has turned his nose up at him, forsaken him from the greatness of being forgiven. Even now, your ghost had its claws wrapped around his heart like a vice, whispering obscenities into his ear while he was alone. You were the one who led him down this path, and now he searched for the bright light of God with his eyes closed.

Guilt eats away at the fibers of his soul, rips him apart late at night when the image of you appears in his mind, a giggling smile on your lips as they skim across his throat. Your hands were so warm, though, dragging across his body without condescendence. He would wake up and find himself sweating profusely in his cold room the next morning, breathing heavily as his hands grip the blanket. With shaking legs, he would sit up and rip the drawer of his night stand open, glare at the blue rosary that was tied tightly around a small bible, and grab his new one.

He would drop to his knees, heart racing, and pray until the sweat on his back dried.

Even now, he thinks he can sense you in this enclosed space with him. Your scent lingering in the air around him, permeating his clothes no matter how many times he changes or washes them.

Hands gripping his rosary, he hopes the metal cross cuts into his skin. Maybe then, if he sacrificed his blood, God would see he was punished long enough. Maybe then, he could be forgiven. Your face appears in his mind, and his teeth clench. How could you do this to him? Reduce him to nothing but the filth that lines the pristine floors?

Jayce startles when the door on the other side opens, his breath quick as he shifts in place. Clearing his throat, he waits for the person on the other side to get comfortable, their throat clearing. It's silent then, both Jayce and the newcomer getting comfortable with each other. Jayce’s eyes clenched shut, your scent washing over him with newfound strength, the hair on the back of his neck stands and as if he was struck with lightning-

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.”

Your voice.

His heart shakes, muscles tight and his breath short. Immediately, he thinks he can zone in on your breathing, so calm and quiet. Eyes cracking open, his head tilts to the lattice, and he can see your lips curved into a smirk. It's sickening, how the sight of you can make him feel so electric. You ignite something deep within him, akin to a lighter held under a sparkler. His stomach clenches, and his leg stalls its bounce. Fingers gripping his rosary, the sudden weight of the bible in his lap taunts him.

“I’ve never confessed before, could you guide me?”

“I-” his voice squeaked out, and he snapped his jaw shut. Swallowing, Jayce looks back to his lap, gazing at the rosary. Was it just him, or did it suddenly look like the blue one he cast aside? Was the small figure of Jesus gazing with accusatory eyes? Did he know what was reeling in his mind at the sight of you?

“Father?”

His eyes shut tight, head falling towards his chest, shoulders hunched, robes tight over his shoulders, “I listen to your confession.”

It took a lot of strength to force his voice into a steady cadence. The small box seemed to be a little too small, he seemed too big to be in here. What once was comfort, was now torment. Your voice filled his side, bouncing off the wood and surrounding him.

“I give you advice, and you’ll- um,” he shifts in his spot, refusing to meet your gaze through the lattice, “You’ll be on your way.”

“Are you alright, Father?” You’re smiling, he just knows it. He can see your face behind his eyelids, how bright your gaze is, how your pupils are dilating at the sight of him so unkept.

Nodding his head, he takes one more deep breath. He couldn’t let you see him like this, he was supposed to push what happened between you to the back of his mind. Forget it, even. He was praying to God for forgiveness, and by letting you entrap his senses, he would be pushed back to step one.

“What was that?” Taunting, you hum, “I didn’t quite hear you.”

Shivering, he lifts his head and finally gazes through the lattice, meeting your sharp eyes. They’re encapsulating, looking at him with knowing. You can see him for what he truly is, a man of sin.

Yet, it was your fault he was like this, why he swallows a whine and lets his mouth open to answer. If he were to put on a strong front, you would understand why he couldn’t progress in this sinful back and forth. Couldn’t let you torment him with your pretty words, or your addicting touch.

“I’m here to listen to your confession, please just-” voice trailing off, his hands grip the rosary for comfort, but all he finds is the sharp edges of the cross.

You chuckle, head leaning against the wood, raising your hand to tap your forehead, chest, and each shoulder.

“In the name of the Father, Son, and The Holy Spirit. My confession, Father, is that I cannot stop thinking about you.”

Jayce smiles, gaze locked onto his rosary, “That’s normal- I’m your Priest-”

“No, Father,” voice quiet. serious, you shift closer to the lattice, “I think of you when my fingers are inside me, I wish they were yours-”

Muscles tight, Jayce says the first thing that comes to mind, “that was a mistake-”

“Was it? You seemed to enjoy yourself a lot, Father.”

“Temptation is a powerful thing, but you must find it in yourself to resist.”

There’s silence on the other side, your gaze assessing him. Humming, you let your head swing to the side, your own fingers rubbing across the tops of your thighs absentmindedly.

“How can I resist, Father?”

Finally, his lungs allow air in. He breathes deeply, ignoring his shaking hands. He ignores the fire in his gut, how his thighs clench together, and recites words from the book still resting in his lap, “Asks for guidance out of temptation, and for the strength to use the Word of God as a weapon.”

“Ah,” you sigh, “the Word of God as a weapon? Do you really think that’ll save me?”

There's a teasing tilt to your tone, and Jayce ignores it. Voice closer, you whisper through the lattice, “have you been saved, father?”

“I ask for forgiveness, just as you are now,” he whispers in return. Hands shaking, he lets his fingers return to fidgeting with the rosary beads. His mouth waters, wanting you to drop it into his mouth-

No, he cannot think of that. He was a holy man. Faithful to his God.

“So, you’ve confessed?”

Nodding, he bites his cheek, his skin burning, “I- I have.”

“Liar.”

White hot fear runs through his veins, and his hands unknowingly release the rosary. It clatters to the ground between his feet, and his eyes meet yours. They narrowed, disappointingly pointed his way; All of a sudden, he felt the roles reversed.

“No-”

“How often do you think of me, Jayce?”

Heart racing, his hands grip the tops of his thighs, feel the muscles beneath tighten.

His chest heaves, and his legs clench together. Pushing back that licking flame that ignited between his legs, all because of your voice. It's sticky-sweet like honey, drowning him in molasses that clogs his senses. He can feel his cock twitch, wanting your touch instead of his.

Head leaning back against the wood, he can feel a droplet of sweat run down the back of his neck, soaking into the roman collar. His shaking hands move to grip his bible, fingers sliding between the pages to seek any form of strength. He can hear it rip under the pressure of his grip, yet how else would he ground himself? His mind races, feeling your eyes staring at him through the lattice

“Does your God know you think of me as much as you do him?”

Jayces’ shuddering breath is loud, eyebrows furrowed as he wills his racing heart to calm. He must not give in. This must be another test for him, he thinks. This was God's way of seeing if he was worthy of forgiveness.

Yet, you seemed so genuine, even if you sounded teasing.

“What do you tell yourself at night? Maybe I could speak the same, so I can forget about you.”

A whine, and Jayce thinks he doesn't want you to forget him. He couldn’t forget you, no matter what he did, what he said, or tried. Stomach turning, he can see your waiting eyes, how you won’t change the subject until he gives in.

“If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just and will forgive us of our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.”

“Ah,” you nod your head once, “Do you want to be forgiven, though?”

He’s silent, clenching his teeth, “Of course.”

You sigh, and with a low voice you talk with a harsh tone, “then why are you still speaking to me?”

“I-” voice stuck in his throat, Jayce knows he’s had the opportunity to steer the conversation back, to not engage you in such sinful conversation. Yet, he craved it. To be told what to do, to be on his knees between your knees instead of the altar.

“Oh,” you say, Jayce freezing. Had you read him so easily?

“Oh, you’re liking this, aren’t you?”

Whining, his thighs clench. You laugh, and it makes his chest seize. Cock jumping in his robes, Jayce refuses to touch himself. There were people outside, they would hear-

“I’m liking this too,” you whisper, and he can hear the first button pop from your pants. Shoulders tense, his breathing turns rapid.

“You’ve plagued my mind everyday, Jayce, its tormenting-”

A zipper, and Jayce can feel his thighs shake. His fingers curl against the pages, and he clenches his eyes shut. You were taunting him, you wouldn’t touch yourself now, in the confessional of all places.

“You-” he whines, “you’ve been tormenting me-”

“Good,” a sigh, and he wishes to be in the small space with you, to tear down this wall to see your form in all its glory, “should we pray together, Father? Beg together for forgiveness?”

Shivering, he pushes his head further against the wood, swallowing with a dry throat.

“Lord God, in your goodness have mercy on me: do not look on my sins, but take away all my guilt. Create in me a clean heart and renew within me an upright spirit-”

Your voice starts immediately after his, repeating his words, breathy and soft. The fire, slowly swelling in his stomach, licks and burns at his chest at the sound of your sweet voice wrapping around each syllable of the prayer. He sets the bible in the small space beside him, sliding his free hands across his torso.

He moves, fingers undoing the buttons of his robes. With a shaking grip, he slowly pushes it to the side, the air wrapping around his thighs. Cock jumping, Jayce whines softly. His hands rest on the inside of his thighs, his cock radiating heat under his boxers. Chest shuddering, his back slouches, legs spreading.

“forgive all my sins, renew your love in my heart, help me to live in perfect unity with my fellow Christians that I may proclaim your saving power to all the world.”

Tone shaking, he barely opens his eyes to find you already looking at him. Your own eyes were half lidded, chest heaving as your mouth opened to copy him once more. He can barely see you, but he can make out how your shirt was pulled up on your tummy, your pants undone, your hand hidden under the fabric. Your back was arching, neck exposed to the light that seeps in.

He can’t help himself, his hands grip his cock over his boxers, hips jumping into the contact. Jayce growls, rough and gravely as he grips the base of his clothed cock.

“Jayce,” you whimper, and he moans. You sounded so heavenly, his mind reeling at the cadence.

“Do you think we’ll be forgiven?” You ask, smirking. He shakes his head, and watches as your gaze shifts to the ceiling. Eyes closing, your eyebrows furrow as you lose yourself in your own pleasure. Jayce whimpers, wanting to be the one giving you that pleasure, he wants you to be above him, using him, punishing him for being so sinful.

“Keep talking, Jayce, be a good boy.”

“Hnng- I-” he chokes, snapping his gaze to his lap. There was a rapidly growing wet patch at the tip of his cock, he grips the top of his boxers, pulling the elastic away to push it down his thighs. The fabric is tight against his skin, straining. With his cock finally free, he softly trails the tips of his shaking fingers along the shaft. Twitching, he presses his finger into the beads of pre that seeps from the tip.

“Tell me another prayer, Father,” it's harsh now, how your eyes glare at him. He bites his cheek, sparing a glance to the bible next to him, searching his mind for anything to say. All he could think of, though, was you.

“Therefore, confess your sins to- to one another and pray for one another-” he sighs, tears gathering on his waterline as he finally grips his cock tightly. His thumb swipes across the tip, and he moves his wrist once, slowly pumping his cock from top to base, and back up again, its uncoordinated, sloppy, “that you may be healed. The p- hnn- prayer of a righteous person has great power as it- it is working.”

“I want to taste you, Jayce,” you whisper. He hips jerk, and his eyes snap to the lattice separating you both. You’re so much closer, and when he leans close to look closer, he can see your pants pushed down your thighs. The soft skin of your thighs looked so inviting, spread as far as the restricting clothing will allow, your fingers circling your pulsing clit as your other hand grips onto the edge of the seat.

“You can’t,” he whimpers, much louder than he intended. He wanted nothing more than for your mouth to taste him, replace his shaking hand and bring him to euphoria once more.

“I can,” you reply with a hiss, “the gap is wide enough, let me taste you.”

Jayce furrows his eyebrows, his focus turning to how big the gap actually was, it was small enough that at a glance you wouldn't be able to decipher what was on the other side. Yet, if you looked close enough, you’d be able to tell what was what. His hand leaves his cock, gathering his sticky pre onto the pad of his middle finger, and slowly raises it to the gap in the lattice. His chest shudders as he watches you move, meeting your lips on the other side.

His moan is loud, reverberating in the space as your wet tongue wraps around his finger. You're sucking hard, teeth grazing his skin, the breath escaping your nose warm on his already scorching skin.

Your mouth is gone just as quickly as it wrapped around his digit, your tongue swiping across your bottom lip as your hand drips deeper on your cunt, no doubt pushing them inside.

“You’re an angel,” you whisper, and Jayce’s back arches slightly. His hand retracts from the lattice, immediately running the spit coated skin across his lower lip before sucking his own finger. He could taste you, the candy you ate, the coffee you drank, and he could taste himself. A tangy saltiness that lingers in the back of his throat.

He almost sobs, drool dripping down to coat his palm. When he pulls his finger away, his hands are replaced onto his cock, now glistening with the collection of his and your spit. He doesn’t realize that he’s gasping for air, his legs shaking, the choked sound of a whimper pushing from his throat.

“Be quiet, Jayce.”

Licking his lips, he clenches his thighs shut, pushing his head back against the wood. His cock was throbbing in his grip, and when he slowly rubbed his thumb across the tip, he moaned.

“I-” he swallows, throat suddenly too dry, “I can’t, I’m sorry-”

You sigh, and he can feel his stomach clench, “grab your Bible, show it to me.”

“What?-”

“Show me your Bible, now,” you hiss, and his hand leaves his cock to grab the leather-bound book. Raising it, he refuses to look at the gold writing across the front.

“Good boy, open it up for me, any page will do.”

Dropping it from your gaze, he lets the binding fall to any page, heaving as his eyes blearily look over the page. The text was so small, mixing together in a conglomeration of sentences and prayer he could no longer read. All he could think of was you you you you-

“Rip out a page, and put it in your mouth.”

Freezing, Jayce finds it hard to breathe. Rip out a page? That’s blasphemous.

“Since you love to recite God's words so much, why don't you eat them so no one can hear what's rightfully mine?”

Jayce can’t, he simply can’t. By doing this, he would never be forgiven-

Yet, would you forgive him if he refused?

You can sense his racing mind, your voice a calm beacon in the rough waves of a storm, “Tell me another prayer, Father- One more, just for me.”

Jayce breathes deeply, calming himself, “You are my refuge and strength; no matter what happens, I trust You and will not be afraid.”

“Good boy,” you coo, “do as you're told, Jayce.”

Mind over matter, Jayce forces his unwilling hands to rip a page, bringing it slowly to his lips. The pages were thin, and when he pushed it against his tongue, his spit immediately soaked through it. The ink was slowly seeping from the paper, bitter against his tongue. He looks at you, teeth chewing down onto the paper to keep it in place.

Smirking, you tilt your head, “another.”

He rips multiple pages at once, pushing them between his teeth to meet the other.

You scoff, “such a good boy, doing what you’re told. Yet, you can’t follow your own God’s teachings.”

He can do nothing but whimper around the pages, his hand dropping the bible to the ground to grab back onto his cock, jerking his wrist to the sound of your voice.

“You would do anything I ask, wouldn’t you?” You taunt, your own hand picking up its pace. Sweat shines on your forehead, lips glistening with spit as you shift in your spot, your other hand joining the one on your cunt. Whimpering, you push your own fingers inside, the other still circling your swollen and throbbing clit.

“How far would you go for me, I wonder?” A sigh, and your eyes close. Smiling at the thoughts that race through your mind, “would you leave the priesthood for me?”

His head nods before he even realizes it, your head snapping to watch him, smile widening.

With the small semblance of clarity in his mind remaining, Jayce thinks of the forgiveness he’s been begging to receive for weeks.

It’s always been you, he realizes. You’re the one he seeks forgiveness from, you’re the one who he prays to each night. Not the God whose teachings he no longer follows. Not the God who judges him for feeling emotions only you can bring him. You would forgive him, you wouldn’t judge him for his actions. He would do anything for you, he thinks. If you asked him, he would be yours- he was yours from the moment you sat on his desk.

His pleasure washes over him in waves, no longer held back by guilt. He allows his hand to squeeze, feels the bite of pleasure in his thighs.

Your whine makes his hand jerk faster, that sweet noise the only thing that he seeks out in the night. Breathing heavily, he bites down on the pages still lodged in his mouth. Some were becoming too soggy, the ink transferring onto his tongue.

“I’m so wet, Father-” you sigh, and he can hear your fingers run through your sloppy folds. It’s pathetic, how his hips rise off the seat to chase after it. He wanted to see, wanted to taste you-

“Do you want a taste? I bet you do.” He whines, tongue pressing against paper and you laugh. It's quiet, airy as you release a breathy moan. His eyes strain to watch your mouth drop open, your fingers pressing against your tongue. Eyes watering, he clenches them shut and leans his head forwards against the lattice, the wood cool against his scorching skin.

Your fingers trail down your chin, chest heaving, and you push your hand back through your folds. Your soft skin glows in the light, blue’s and pink’s coloring you Holy as your glistening fingers come back into view. Instead of raising to your lips, they slowly close in on the small openings of the lattice. Your other fingers were still inside you, he realizes, you were halting your own pleasure just to tease him.

“Why don’t you taste what I give? Rather than your God,” you taunt, glint in your eyes. Without hesitation he lets the soggy paper drop from his mouth, drool pouring from behind. Down his chin, soaking his beard. Bits of paper remain on his lips, the bitter taste of ink left behind. He can faintly hear the paper hit the floor, a wet smack, and he runs his tongue across his lip. He didn’t want anything to dilute your taste, not even his own spit.

The tips of your fingers appear on his side, and he surges forwards to meet them. His tongue touches soft skin, lips pressed against wood. You push further into his mouth, your slick coating his taste buds. It washes away the taste of paper and ink, his body shivering as his hand grips tight onto his cock. It pulses, begging for your touch instead of his.

“I wonder what God would think, you forsaking his word for such sin.”

He whines, tongue parting your middle and ring finger to taste the slick between, feeling you press down onto his tongue, sliding as far as the lattice will allow. You almost hit the back of his throat, and he pushes harder against the wood, wanting you as deep as possible.

“Fucking-” you hiss, retracting your finger and quickly licking across the tips before pushing them back between your folds. The sloppy-slick sounds louder than before, his hand trying to catch up to your rapid pace.

There's a fire growing inside him, quick and unrelenting as his hand sloppily jerks his cock. His thighs twitch, toes curling in his shoes as his lungs beg for more air. Although he was gasping, he felt like he wasn’t getting enough air.

“Don’t you fucking cum yet,” your voice growls, and he sobs. Pressure behind his eyes, scalding tears on his cheeks, his tongue searching for your taste that lingers.

“Jayce-”

“Please- I-” he whispers, hearing the horrifying sound of heels against the floor outside of the confessional. Could they hear what was happening inside? Hear how their priest was touching himself, committing a sin he was no longer guilty about?

His hand falters, cold humiliation creeping over his shoulders.

“Ignore them, puppy-” your voice borders a whisper, “keep going- tell me another prayer.”

He looks to you, sniffling lightly as his hand resumes its previous pace. Nodding your own head, you encourage him. There was a gathering heat in his gut, embers collection to prepare a large bonfire. Your gaze threw wood onto it, flames catching quickly. His thighs felt gooey, his mind blank, but he wills himself to think of any prayer, just for you.

“To all those- those that repent of in this wise- Oh, hnn- and look to J-Jesus- Christ for their salvation. F-fuck- I declare- that the absolution of sins is effected- please, oh fuck- In the name of the F-father- and of the son, oh- hnng ‘m gonna- Wait-”

“You can finish father, come on-”

“Mm- and- i can’t- h-hold-” he begs, your voice pushing him impossibly closer.

“And of the Holy Spirit, Amen-”

Fire under his skin, and he feels his release begin. A raging fire in his gut, spreading to his thighs and chest. It tingles so intensely, and his hand clamps over his mouth, biting onto his palm to muffle his strained moan. Blinding white explodes behind his eyes, and he can faintly hear your cooing voice talking him through it. He wanted to hold your hand through this intensity, wanted your calming embrace rather than the prayer that was seared into his mind. God could no longer provide comfort, for you had burned him away to make space for your own presence.

He can hear your own whines, choked moans as you, no doubt, go through your own orgasm. You bite down on your cheek to keep yourself silent, hips canting into your hands to chase that pleasure. Jayce tries to watch, but his hands feel his thighs, and can't think of anything else but the euphoria he was feeling.

Heavy breathing is what he hears when he comes back, his hands and skin covered in his own sticky release, cock still throbbing and red, yet too sensitive to continue. His abs hurt, his arm was slowly relaxing from the cramping that occurred. Licking his lips, he brings his hand closer to his mouth, tempted to taste the opaque liquid that coats him.

Feeling your eyes on him, he looks over, you’re waiting on the other side of the lattice. With shaking hands, he raises his tired arm, slides his finger through the lattice, and feels your tongue wrap around the digit slowly. Heart in his ears, he makes circles on your tongue, feeling the muscle move and chase after the cum, a smile slowly stretching across his face.

Your hand appears, your own shining fingers pushing through the gaps in the lattice, and Jayce wills his lethargic body to move to wrap his own lips around your fingers. His cock twitches at the taste of your own cum, his tongue licking away the sweet-tart taste. Your face was so close, he could feel the breath from your nose against his cheek, your body heat seeping through in the slightest. When he pulls away for air, he opens his mouth to speak.

A voice beats him to it, though, older and questioning.

“Father?”

Ice cold fear, and he tilts his head to stare at the door ahead.

#arcane x reader #smut #arcane smut #hwawrites #jayce talis #jayce talis x reader #jayce x reader #jayce talis smut #priest jayce talis #misuse of a confessional #arcane jayce #arcane imagine #jayce imagine #arcane

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oh-no-its-bird · 1 day ago

Text

This is a stupid one so gear up for that, but;

The Akatsuki celebrate Christmas with some sort of secret santa / gift swap thing.

Deidara gets Tobi, and is really mad about it because he'd gotten Tobi last year and ended up being mocked for his shitty gift giving skills (among other things)

This leads him to basically go, "shit ok fine. I will give this motherfucker THE best gift. A gift so good he will have no choice but to shut the hell up and just say thank you"

And so he's agonizing over what to give him, because also Tobi is a fucking weirdo and it's so hard to predict him. Deidara could spend hours of time thinking something up and then and hundreds of ryo actually getting something and the freak would make fun of it somehow, but if he got him a misshapen snail shell off the side of the road he might lose his mind in gratitude.

So this is like, a whole puzzle really

Then, he has it. Isn't there some Konoha nin the guy is not so subtly obsessed with...?

So yeah, Deidara kidnapping Kakashi (possibly roping someone else into helping him) as a surprise Christmas gift for Tobi.

This is about to be the worst most humiliating thing to ever happen to Kakashi.

We're going the itadei route because I love itadei, Deidara somehow ropes Itachi (and Kisame) into helping him kidnap Kakashi.

Deidara originally goes for Kisame for help thinking smthn up to get for Tobi, since they seem to get along, and Kisame is the one to mention his Kakashi obsession.

Deidara is like, "oh fuck???" And announces his new plans

Itachi is within earshot and makes a comment on how that's a stupid fucking idea, and seeing as Deidara couldn't even take him down, he'd count his chances with Kakashi.

(Which. Is a bit of an odd scale but don't think ab it too long)

Deidara is like "bitch??? So you can do better?? Huh???"

And Itachi is like "not that I would want to throw myself into such a useless fight. But yes, I could do infinitely better than you. In a lot of aspects in, frankly."

So this devolves and basically Itachi ends up tripping and falling and accidentally volunteering himself to help kidnap Kakashi.

Which, by the way, is not really something either he OR Deidara wants. But he's here now, so.

(*Itadei noises*)

Kisame also possibly ends up coming along for the ride too

So anyways, these guys head off to kidnap Kakashi !! Good for them.

Umm skipping through the entire adventure, Deidara and Itachi bicker (Deidara much louder than Itachi) Kisame treats this whole thing like it's a free comedy show, things (inevitably) get blown up, and, of course, Kakashi is ambushed

So like. Akatsuki, right? Terrorist organization with a goal of doing nefarious things to Jinchuriki. Obviously, Kakashi is kidnapped by them and assumes the worst.

He's a high ranking jonin, ex ANBU captain, close to multiple Hokages, and they were clearly directly targeting him. So yk, he's on guard. Tries to escape several times over, till Itachi dumps him head first in a genjutsu

(one that he loosens when it's Deidara's turn to keep watch, to give him someone to actually watch over so he can "feel useful" (and to annoy him)) <- this is also very disorienting for Kakashi

But instead of torturing Kakashi, when they arribe at their base they ?? Wrap him in ribbons ?? Like a fucking Christmas gift ???

Kakashi has no idea what is going on.

And then they dump him in what is clearly some guys bedroom ???? Without much else security ?????

Kakashi has no idea whats going on.

They do share a bit, and like, Kakashi picks up on what's happening pretty quick (though it makes the entire thing no less insane)

Apparently one of the Akatsuki members is... really into him...? Which, actually, is incredibly valuable information to have.

In general this entire thing is super educational for Kakashi— Deidara doesn't give a fuck what Akatsuki secrets he may let loose, Itachi is checked out from all of this and doesn't care enough to stop Deidara from running his mouth, and Kisame is somewhere in the realm of "as long as they don't talk about anything of our mission, it's probably fine?"

So like. Kakashi is learning things rn. Valuable things. Names and dynamics and whatever the fuck is happening in Itachi's corner of the world (that last bit he's especially interested in, both bc Konoha defect, Sasuke's older brother, and also just. Hey, he helped train that guy. Team ro nostalgia or whatever. There's something there)

They don't... seem to be interested in harming him...?

So for now, even as they leave him in a room he could maybe escape from if he tried to, he kinda self assigns himself a lowkey infiltration mission. A classic "get into their camps via being a prisoner but spy on them from the inside, since that position sees more than the outside anyways."

Which is to say: he doesn't try to escape.

Instead, he buckles in to wait and see where this takes him

So anyways then Obito gets back from wherever he's been off screen. Doing terrorism, probably. And he's also just in time for the akatsuki Christmas party, yippie

And Deidara is like, swanning around, nose in the air, "oh Tobi you'll NEVER guess what gift I got you... really you'll never guess... but it is GREAT and I am winning Christmas FOREVER after this"

And Obito is kinda curious but not too optimistic (he's like 80% sure it's gonna be another clay sculpture that blows up in his face like last year. Though maybe this year it'll be shaped like something he likes...?)

But he's in Tobi mode so he's giggling and going "omg senpai I can't wait <33 I hope you got me a cool stick teehee"

And then Deidara guides him to his own room, and they have a bit of an audience just from how fucking loud Deidara has been bragging about this (also multiple people at this point know what he did and they want to see the reactions)

And Obito opens his door.

And it's.

Kakashi.

In his room.

On his bed.

In an Akatsuki uniform. Wrapped in ribbons.

And they make eye contact. And Kakashi goes, "Maah, I don't suppose you're—"

Obito closes the door.

Obito opens the door back up again.

"That was a little rude, don't you—"

Obito closes the door.

Obito crouches on the floor, just, head in his hands. He might be hyperventilating a little bit.

Deidara is directly over his shoulder going "Huh? Huh? What do you think? Are you speechless or what? Hey, where's my thanks? Do you know how hard this was to do? I had to deal with fucking Itachi to do this, you know, so—"

And Obito, not in his Tobi voice but in his real, much deeper normal voice, interrupts him with, "I need you to shut the fuck up right now"

Deidara does shut up, actually. Miracle that that is. For all of like 10 seconds and mostly out of shock.

But then he's very much NOT shutting up as he puts his hands on his hips and starts going off about how this was SUPER HARD TO DO and Tobi BETTER BE FUCKING GRATEFUL !!!!!!!!!!

Obito is still crouched on the floor with his head in his hands going through every emotion known to man at once.

Kisame and Itachi are directly behind them eating popcorn w some other misc Akatsuki

Obito finally finds his words, which are "you KIDNAPPED KAkAshi??????!???????"

And Deidara is like "YEAH BITCH SINCE YOURE SUCH A SAPPY LITTLE PUPPY DOG FOR HIM I THOUGHT ID GO ABOVE AND BEYOND AS YOUR SENPAI !!! BUT IF YOURE GONNA BE UNGRATEFUL ABOUT IT THEN MAYBE ILL JUST GIVE HIM TO SOMEONE ELSE THEN!!!!"

and Obito is like "YOU CANT JUST G IV e HIM TO PEOPLE !!! HES— HES KAKASHI—!!!" and then quickly corrects himself with, "I MEAN— HE'S A MAN!!!!!"

and Deidara is like "ILL GIVE ANYONE TO ANYONE I DAMN PLEASE!!!!" and whirls around and points at Kisame and goes "YOU. DO YOU WANT HIM?"

And Kisame, who doesn't want him but thinks this whole thing is very funny, just goes, "he's cute."

Which sets Obito off in an entirely different direction, bc now he's screaming about how NO ONE IS GETTING KAKASHI because they are going to PUT HIM BACK IN KONOHA WHERE HE BELONGS

And Deidara is fully screaming too now because he went through SO MUCH FUCKING WORK TO GET THIS MAN HERE!!!! DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD HE WAS TO CATCH!!!! DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT WAS TO SUBDUE HIM!!!!! AND HE HAD TO DEAL WITH ITACHI THE WHOLE TIME!!!!!!! THE WHOLE FUCKING TIME!!!!!!!! HIS SMUG ANNOYING ATTITUDE!!!!!!!!!

Itachi continues to eat his popcorn.

Obito and Deidara continue screaming at eachother till Deidara finally goes MOTHERFUCKER YOU ARE NOT WASTING MY HARD WORK and pushes Obito into the room then locks it.

Kakashi, who has heard absoloutley every word that was screamed directly outside his door, and also now feels a lot more safe and secure about his current situation (even as he has come to the tragic conclusion that he was kidnapped by idiots), gives a little bit of a wiggle and goes,

"I don't suppose you could untie me?"

Now. Obito could technically escape, either way kamui or just shifting through the walls

But it would require giving away one of his his trump cards to Kakashi. And also he... well. He does want to, to be clear. He is crawling out of his fucking skin with the desire to be anywhere but here

But at the same time, he... doesn't want to waste this opportunity to just be looked at by Kakashi

Not hiding in the shadows, invisible.

So anyways Obito and Kakashi like, talk idk. Maybe they kiss, who knows.

Kakashi is now fully aware that this guy is apparently a freak about him (and a stalker??? The others mentioned him knowing things he should not know about Kakashi, which is worrying) and he will use this knowledge to his advantage

Obito is not immune to Kakashi taking advantage of him somehow, nor is he immune to potentially letting Kakashi take advantage/trick him somehow, while pretending to be ignorant and keeping that supposed ignorance as a shield to justify to himself why it happened at all

What exactly happens in that room and what happens next is up for the readers to decide, have fun with that

Anyways. Next Christmas Deidara gets Itachi and is, yet again, really fucking mad about it.

He gets way overly invested in giving him the "best" gift, seeing it as an opportunity to "make that bastard be humble and say thank you"

And then because apparently all Deidara seems to know how to fucking do is kidnap people, (tho to be fair, "kidnapping people" is like one of the core foundations of the Akatsuki) he decides a great gift would be kidnapping that little brother of Itachi's for him !!!

He can kill him, torture him, whatever— Deidara doesn't care, he just wants the credit. Man, he's such a good gift giver.

Obviously, handing over the "present" (a terrified Sasuke) goes about as well as Obito's own Christmas gift the previous year. Possibly worse. Itachi is losing his fucking mind but quietly (the most dangerous way to lose it) and on the inside (there are nuclear explosions happening in his brain)

Sasuke is convinced he's about to be murdered and Itachi now has to think of a reason why he can't do that and also hopefully get Sasuke back to Konoha. But also if he just lets him go like he wants to, Deidara will legit lose his fucking mind, which would be annoying.

Hmmm. Torture his brother (again) or deal with Deidara potentiallg throwing a fit because no one ever "appreciates" his hard work in gift giving. What a difficult choice.

Anyways in another world, instead of fucking kidnapping the man, Deidara just made a vaguley horny Kakashi figurine for Tobi and had Sasori help him paint it.

Which ended up getting Obito to spiral and custom commission several more pieces of vaguley horny Kakashi merchandise, till he had a room full of it and could no longer deny the fact he's a certified freak

Umm then Itachi and Deidara make out sloppy style the end

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