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amphxtrite · 3 years ago

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cedric diggory x fem!reader

warnings: smut, alludes to innocence kink, experienced cedric and first time reader, oral (both male and female receiving), praise kink, daddy kink, use of pet names, alcohol, fluff at the end.

do not read if you are uncomfortable.

summary: the reader has never been with anyone when she transfers to Hogwarts for her last year, what happens when a party, fire whisky and a game of ‘never have I ever’ push her to ask the infamous playboy how to love?

a/n: hey everyone, it’s been a while! bear with me this ones still being edited but I finally finished it so here you go!

hope you enjoy!

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Sunlight streams from a window into Cedric’s eyes, slowly waking him from his slumber to throw a stabbing headache at him, a consequence for his activities the previous night. Sitting up and glancing around the room that was not his, the blue and gold accents decorating the four posters made it obvious which dorm he was in, and glancing down at the mess of black hair beside him, who’s was it?

“Fuck, not again.” Cedric murmurs, standing and tugging on his trousers and buttoning up his shirt, walking out the doors as the girl in the bed begins to stir.

After winning the Triwizard tournament Cedric had become almost a celebrity in the wizard world. He was handsome, smart, and now a champion of the deadliest competitions in the world. He gave Gilderoy Lockhart a run for his money at Witch Weekly’s Most Charming smile. The fame was everything he wanted and more, and with the girls practically throwing themselves at him, it wasn’t long before he became a notorious play-boy too, rumoured to give the best anyone ever had, before disappearing the next morning.

Sitting down at the hufflepuff table, next to his mates, Cedric reaches across the table and grabs an apple from a basket in the centre of the table and takes a bite, nibbling slowly as a headache pounds through his head.

“Hello there Diggory.” A voice laughs, dropping down beside the hufflepuff. Cedric turns his head to see Zacharius staring at him with an eyebrow cocked.

“Y-Yeah, what’s up Smith?” Cedric sighs, turning his head and massaging his forehead.

“Oh don’t tell me you were drinking again cap’n!” Zacharius groans, taking a swig of milk from his cup. “Doesn’t matter.” Cedric shrugs, shaking his head.

“We’ve got a game today!” The blonde exclaims, poking Cedric in the head.

“And we’ve got it! I’m only a little hungover.” Cedric smirks, pushing Zach back with his elbow.

Zach rolls his eyes and pulls his wand out of his pocket, “this should clear your head a bit.” He states, tapping the tip to Cedric’s forehead and muttering a soft spell.

Cedric smirks, instantly feeling the cool feeling of the drink’s impact being brushed away.

“Thanks mate.” He sighs.

“No problem Ced, now let’s get down to the pitch captain, we’ve got a match to win yeah?” Zach laughs, grabbing a slice of toast.

“Yeah, let’s go.” Cedric grins, standing and walking out of the cafeteria with Smith beside him.

“Wake up sleeping beauty!” The giggle and squeal of your new roommate wakes you, followed by a pillow to your face.

“Ah- Brinley!” You groan, sitting up immediately, and grabbing the pillow before she tries to throw it again. “Today’s tour day and then a surprise!” Brinley laughs in a song-like voice.

“W-What time is it?” You sigh, bringing your hand to your eyes and rubbing away the sleepiness.

“Doesn’t matter, it’s the weekend and Hogwarts is huge!” Brinley smiles, falling onto her own four-poster and closing her curtains.

“Get changed y/n, then the tour will commence!” She declares like a quidditch commentator.

“I got it, I got it.” You call out, throwing your covers off of you and quickly getting changed, eyes still barely opened as you pull a sweater over your body and call out to Brinley.

“Brin ‘m ready.” You sigh, standing up from your mattress and tucking your wand into your pocket.

“Finally, c’mon!” The brunette cheers, throwing back her curtains and grabbing your hand to lead you out of the dorm and out the common room.

You spent the rest of the day running from class to class, from courtyard to ‘special corridors.’ Seriously, where did this girl get all her energy from?

“Oh and there are some house ghosts! Oh- over here is the Charms classroom!” Brinley continues, tugging harder on your arm and stopping abruptly.

“Brinley what the-”

You’re cut off by Brinley’s sigh of content and legs practically melting beneath her.

“Look.” She smiles in an almost dream-like voice.

Your eyebrows furrow but you follow your gaze over to a group of boys in yellow robes, laughing and shoving each other about, you note the design as quidditch uniforms, they must be a team. You glance back over at the awe-struck girl to see her smirking with her finger in her lip.

“Cedric Diggory, tall brunette with the perfect smile.” Brinley giggles, nodding at the boy in the centre. “Playboy, school golden boy, Hogwarts champion…” She sighs, leaning against you.

“He’s absolutely stunning. There’s a rumor he can get a girl’s knickers off minutes after he pulls them away.” She breathes with glee, undressing the brunette with her eyes. You smirk at her and find your gaze following the hufflepuff’s frame.

Your eyes trail up with chest, taking in his toned shoulders and strong arms before admiring his long digits underneath his tight fitting gloves, how they flex and stretch as he walks.

Finally your eyes fixate on his face. Piercing grey eyes that seemed to stay serious even while he was smiling, the colour of storm clouds over a forest, calm but strong.

Moving downwards you trace down his defined jawline and cheekbones, sure to have anyone crawling on their knees for him. Soft pink lips almost gave the illusion he was innocent, but as soon as they pulled up to reveal a smirk, you could tell he was experienced, daring, the kind of person up for any kind of challenge, even if it meant jumping in harm’s way.

It was a face everyone in the wizarding world grew to know, the handsome hufflepuff that had not only survived, but won the triwizard tournament, he’d managed to get the entire world swooning for him.

“Hey there captain, where are you heading?” Brinley calls to Cedric once he’s close enough to hear.

“Back to the common room, can I help you sunshine?” Cedric murmurs, stopping for a moment.

“I’d like you to meet my new friend, Ceddy, this is y/n.” Brinley smiles, taking your hand and pushing you forwards.

“Well hello there y/n, say that’s a pretty name.” Cedric smirks, reaching out and taking your hand.

“O-Oh, thank you.” You smile, shaking his hand gently as he raises your fingers to his lips to press a kiss to them.

“What do you say we get away?”

“We just met Diggory, don't get cocky.” You laugh, watching his smirk grow.

“Oh, so the kitten has claws?” Cedric teases at your sudden change in tone.

You blush, and Cedric chuckles softly. “No worries, nice to meet you kitten.” Cedric nods, walking off with the rest of his team.

You’re frozen for a moment, feeling the heat grow in your face and in between your legs, did that really just happen? You blink, turning back to Brinley who has a huge grin on her lips.

“Oh I can see this…” She murmurs, glancing back and forth at you and the hufflepuff.

“Didn’t you just say you like him?” You laugh, raising an eyebrow at her.

“I said he’s hot, not that I like him, there’s a difference, kitten.” She smirks smugly, putting emphasis on your new nickname.

“Haha sunshine, any chance we could go get something to eat? I’m starved.”

“Why would you need something to eat when there’s a full course meal right ahead?” She jokes, winking at you with a playful smirk.

You roll your eyes and she slaps you gently on the shoulder.

“Hey! I’m teasing, come on it’s almost lunch anyways.” Brinley giggles, grabbing your arm once again. “After lunch I’ll show you the pitch, I have a feeling you’ll love your surprise.”

Lunch is quick and uneventful, you manage to sit down long enough to grab a sandwich, but as Brinley glances around at a clock her eyes widen and she takes your hand.

“On second thought lunch can wait, your surprise starts in ten minutes and we need to get good seats!” She laughs apologetically, placing a sandwich into her mouth as she pulls you away, luckily with yours still in hand.

“Let me guess, the surprise is a quidditch game?” You question, catching up to Brinely and walking by her side.

“You got me, just thought it would be nice for your first day.” She shrugs, walking out the door of the castle and starting across a grassy field.

“Sounds fun, who’s playing?” You ask.

“Hufflepuff, obviously, and Ravenclaw, bound to be an exciting one.” Brinley squeals, swinging her arms back and forth. “Oh?” You add.

“Ever since Cedric and Cho broke up their games have been pretty interesting.” She elaborates with an awkward smile. “Some people say they still sleep together, but everyone knows it’s because they both get hot and bothered when they’re drunk in the same room.” Brinley hints, raising both of her eyebrows.

“They sound… serious?” You joke half-heartedly as the brunette beside you breaks into a fit of laughter. “Both of them have made it crystal clear they do not want to be together, both of ‘em seem to be impossible to tie down.” Brinley giggles, catching her breath to calm herself before the two of you get to the stadium. “Exciting.” You shrug, beginning to climb a flight of stairs up to the seating area with Brinley close behind you.

“Oh that’s Hogwarts for you.” She sighs playfully, pushing you further up and forwards to find a seat.

“Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you!” Madame Hooch calls to the two teams facing off at the centre of the pitch, every player nods to the referee and she throws the quaffle up into the air, signalling the beginning of the game.

“Here it goes.” Brinley smiles excitedly, practically bouncing in her seat.

You watch in awe as the chasers fly skillfully across the pitch, passing the quaffle with speed and perfect aim, only for it to be cut short by another player who then goes zooming in the other direction. The quaffle is in possession of hufflepuff, then is stolen by ravenclaw but taken back again. Every moment is filled with suspense and when Ravenclaw scores the first goal the section of the stadium filled with blue goes wild. Up above the beater’s are hitting bludgers back and forth, defending their teammates before sending it off to the other side again. Their movements are smooth and strong, hitting every swing on the dot. The keeper’s are positioned defencefully at each end of the stadium, using tactics to save the quaffle you had never seen before. They maneuvered themselves back and forth quickly and forcefully, even taking quaffles right in the stomach to stop them. You winced more than once trying to watch the Keeper’s save each goal.

Finally, up above were the seeker’s flying up, down and around the pitch in full alert for the snitch, both Cedric and Cho had their goggles pulled down over their eyes and their heads snapping back and forth every second. You could see the competitive nature in Cho with her teeth gritting everytime Cedric dove a little too quickly or turned to try and trick her. If Cedric was having fun with this he wasn’t showing it. His lips remained sealed in a tight line and by the looks of it his jaw was clenched, both of the seeker’s hair were blowing behind them even though there was almost no wind, almost blurs compared to the other player’s a little ways below. A yellow blur here and a blue blur there was all you could see, then they would stop, scan for a moment and wait. You nibbled on your bottom lip as the scores began to grow, each team displayed new tactics the other didn’t know and soon Ravenclaw was leading 170-130. Even the golden snitch wouldn’t be enough to help them win, and you could tell there was some slight hesitation on Cedric’s face as he kept scanning.

As if he knew you were staring, Cedric’s head moved for a moment, glancing down over in the direction you were sitting in and among the sea of people, he found you. Neither you or Brinley were wearing any house colours other than the colours blue and yellow painted across both of your cheeks, guess you couldn’t make a decision, he chuckles, flying a little closer to the booth you’re sitting in, and in a teasing manner he removes the outer jacket of his quidditch uniform and drops in down, right onto your lap.

“Hold onto that for me won’t you kitten? It’s getting rather hot.” He shouts, pushing back his slightly matted brown hair and throwing a wink your way. He watches you nod bashfully, before chuckling and turning back to the game. Teasing you was so fun, how could he resist.

Turning back for a moment he catches Brinley nudging you gently with her elbow and your eyes roll as your cheeks go a light shade of pink.

He grins, but then sees it, the score has changed in his favour and as his smirk rises, he dives.

Your eyes widen as you watch Cedric plummet towards the ground. Did he spot it? Did he see the golden snitch? Cho seems to notice this too and begins plummeting down in Cedric’s direction from the other side of the stadium. You lean over the edge of the railing with Cedric’s uniform still in your arms, eyes zipping about trying to find the familiar flash of gold when, out of nowhere, Cedric looks up, and pulls the front of his broom forwards and skywards again. A loud uproar erupts from the crowd at the stunt Cedric manages to pull, leaving Cho gritting her teeth harder and stopping for a moment right at the ground before pulling up again.

Up above where Cedric was heading, you saw it. The golden snitch flutters above the stadium moving from left to right, up and down. You look over at the scoreboard and your mouth drops. 170-150, Cedric had spotted the snitch at the perfect time right as he had distracted Cho into thinking he was diving for it. You’re sitting on the edge of your seat as the chase begins. By now the sky was already changing colours, the bright azure had faded into a mix of baby blue and pink, creating a very serene backdrop for such a heart-racing chase. The snitch was as mischievous as ever, dropping down, moving to the side, up and then running away with Cedric right behind, his fingers just grazing the back of the shining snitch before losing touch again.

Cho was beginning to catch up and her gritting teeth changed into a smirk as she began to tail Cedric. Her arm raises and she begins to push herself further, almost neck and neck with the hufflepuff when the snitch jumps up suddenly, pausing for a moment as if to watch the two seekers practically leave it behind.

To it’s dismay however, a hand wraps around it at the last moment and grips it tight. The whistle is blown and every stand erupts in cheer.

Cedric sat on his broom, panting and throwing his fist, containing the snitch up into the air over and over again. A huge grin is plastered on his face as he cheers in victory and his team swarms him and starts patting each other on the back. The group of seven touch down and cheer in unison as the stands begin cheering a mix of “hufflepuff” and “Cedric” You smile, watching the seeker high five his team mates and push back his hair once again.

You don’t even realize you’re clutching his quidditch robe right against your chest until the scent wafts up into your nose and your eyes slowly drift downwards.

At first all you can smell is faint hints of citrus lingering for a moment, but taking a deep breath the soft but powerful mix of musk and sandalwood cologne fills your senses, you smile. The earthy cologne suited Cedric. Glancing around, there seemed to be no eyes on you, so you raise the fabric closer to your nose and get hit full force by the sweet aroma. It was just strong enough to make your knees go weak, but not enough to be overpowering, perfect. You smile to yourself, but feel a pair of eyes looking at you. Looking down at the pitch again, your eyes meet a pair of sharp gray ones and you know he has caught you. Cedric smirks tracing his tongue over his teeth before turning and walking into the changeroom.

“Hufflepuff won so you know what that means!” Brinley squeals, taking your hand gently and helping you stand. “What?”

“Party in the common room tonight dummy, come on!” She exclaims, tugging you off again.

“But the ro-” You interject.

“You can give it to him at the party, now hurry up!” Brinley cheers, cutting you off and running with you in tow back to the castle.

By the time Cedric and the rest of the hufflepuff team reached the common room, the area was already filled with dancing students, drinks and people making out left and right. Cheers and applause went up for a moment as the winning team stepped into the busy room, before stopping again so the partying could continue.

Your eyes had been scanning the entrance ever since you stepped in, so as soon as you saw the familiar gray eyes and brown hair you stood to get to him but Brinley, already a couple fire whiskeys in, grabbed your hand.

“Don’t h-he’s gonna go take a shower now, don’t wanna talk to him, he stinks.” She murmurs out in between giggles. You roll your eyes and look back up again, but sure enough Cedric has disappeared and you sit back down.

“You sure you don’t want to- drink some?” Brinley asks, lifting a cup to your nose.

“Brin I need to be sober enough to give it back to him, later okay?” You smile, pushing the cup back to the brunette. She mutters a short ‘suit yourself’ in response.

For a while you simply sit on the couch with your leg bouncing nervously up and down, you keep glancing back and forth at the clock and the robe in your hands and as you finally begin tuning Brinley’s drunk rambling out, Cedric emerges from the boy’s staircase in a casual white t-shirt and gray sweatpants. Standing again, you weave your way through the crowd and tap Cedric on the shoulder to get his attention. He turns to face you and a playful smirk lifts his lips.

“Well hello there kitten.” He teases softly.

“Hey Ced, h-here’s your robe.” You manage to stumble out, words getting caught in your throat as glistening beads of water slipped down from Cedric’s damp hair down his cheek.

“I don’t know, you seemed pretty attached to it after the game.” Cedric chuckles.

“Oh, t-that. That was nothing just-” You’re cut off by another voice.

“Y/n, they’re doing a drinking game, come on we have too!” Brinley laughs. “Oh hi Ceddy, would you like to join?” She asks, taking both of your hands.

“Sure sunshine, lead the way.” Cedric shrugs, ushering you forwards and nonchalantly placing his hand on your waist.

The three of you take a seat on the couches again and are handed a cup by another student.

“What are we playing?” You ask, turning to Cedric.

“A muggle game called ‘never have I ever.’ You just take a shot if you’ve done something they say.” He explains, thanking the person who begins filling up your glasses.

You nod and take a deep, trying to focus on your drink and not Cedric’s hand resting on your hip.

They start off with generic questions, “never have I ever broken a bone,” “never have I ever broken up with someone,” “never have I ever lost a bet.”

Soon at least everyone had taken at least one drink, you included.

“Alright, never have I ever had sex!” Brinley questions smugly, watching as one by one everyone threw back their drink with a smile, only to stop on you.

Her eyebrows furrow, “aren’t you gonna take a drink y/n?”

“Oh- aren’t the rules if you have done it?” You question, worried you had been playing the game wrong.

“No-no it is. But you’ve never ‘done the deed’ before?” She asks, tilting her head in confusion.

“Well, no.” You state, shrugging.

“Honey, are you saying you’re in your last year of school, and you’ve never had a good shag?” She giggles, losing her filter with the amount of drinks she had.

“Brinley!” You scold, burning up with embarrassment.

“Aw, y/n!” She coos, wrapping you in a tight hug as if you were a lost puppy. “You’re so innocent and sweet, it’s adorable.” She slurs, giggling and turning back to the game.

Your lips purse and your eyebrows furrow. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to do it, you just never had the chance. You kept repeating it over to yourself as if that would change anything, but your mouth remained sealed and your eyebrows furrowed.

Cedric notices your change in demeanor and leans down closer to your ear.

“Are you alright kitten?”

It may have been the alcohol giving you a boost in confidence, or maybe the teasing you couldn’t stand, but you squeezed your legs together shamelessly right for Cedric to see.

Glancing up at the brunette you shake your head and stand from your spot, you extend your hand out for Cedric to take and he obliges, allowing you to lead him down to a more secluded area next to the boy’s dormitory staircase.

“Is everything alright?” Cedric asks as you cut him off.

“C-Can you help me?” You stammer out, wringing your fingers together.

“With what y/n?” Cedric implores, tilting your chin up to face him.

“Y-You’ve done it before right? A lot?” You continue, feeling your face grow hot.

“Listen kitten, I can only help you if you tell me what it is.” Cedric states firmly.

You swallow your pride and feel your knees buckling under his intense stare, with all the courage you can muster, you take a deep breath and murmur.

“Can you show me how to do it, c-can you fuck me?”

Cedric’s eyes widen and he has to blink the shock out of his eyes. He’d never been asked to help someone through their first time, he found it surprising you would ask him of all people, but at the same time, it was no secret he had done it all when it came to this and your request had his cock hardening in need.

“Alright kitten.” Cedric smirks, taking your hand into his and leading you up the stairs to his private head-boy room. “If you want a lesson, I’d be happy to give one.” He chuckles darkly.

You can already feel the arousal from his words alone dripping from your core to your panties as you nod slowly. Cedric pulls you into his dorm, shutting the door behind him in locking it.

“Now be good darling, and let me teach you.” Cedric smirks, pinning you against the wall and lifting your chin up to him. “Y-Yes…” You respond shyly.

“Yes, who?” Cedric teases, leaning closer to you and ghosting them right over yours. “Call me whatever feels right, kitten.” Cedric smirks, noticing you deep in thought.

“Yes daddy.” You respond meekly, almost like a question. Cedric’s eyebrows raise and his mouth begins to water at your words.

“Say it again, louder.” Cedric teases, placing his hands on your hips and squeezing tightly.

“Yes daddy!” You repeat louder, watching as Cedric’s sharp gray eyes go dark and his lips are on yours. Cedric groans as your lips mould to his, and he takes the lead, moving you in sync with his movements and tilting your chin for better access.

The brunette had never had a lover call him any nicknames before, they usually stuck to his name as he fucked them, but Merlin was this better.

His hands fly to the hem of your sweatshirt as he breaks the kiss for a moment to throw it off before connecting your lips again, slowly prodding his tongue along your bottom lip as you submissively open your mouth to give him access.

Cedric glides his tongue against yours gently swirling it around, taking in the taste of strong firewhiskey essence left on your breath and the sweet smelling perfume on your skin.

His hands travel down your chest and onto your hips as he drags your pants down by the waist, leaving them in a pool around your legs, leaving you only in your bra and panties.

Not taking his lips off yours, Cedric takes your hands and places them at the hem of his white shirt and you get the message, slowly, you take the soft fabric in between your fingers and tug it up Cedric’s chest, pulling back to maneuver it over his head and dropping it on the ground beside you. Taking your hands into his again, Cedric guides your hands to his torso and chest, inviting you to touch him as he deepens the kiss once again.

You oblige and place one hand on his toned shoulder and the other finds its place around Cedric’s abdomen and on his lower back, pulling you impossibly closer to the hufflepuff.

Your breath hitches as you feel the brunette’s hard length pressing against your lower stomach and you pull away from the kiss for a moment to look down and gulp nervously.

Cedric looks down at you teasingly, watching your eyes go from excitement to anxiety.

“What’s wrong kitten? Do you want to get on your knees for your daddy?” Cedric chuckles, placing his nose against your ear and whispering in a hushed tone.

“Y-Yes daddy, but-”

“Shh, daddy has it covered, kitten.” Cedric smirks, bringing his long digits up and placing two in front of your lips.

“Now show me what you want to do, and then we’ll put those lips of yours to real use.” Cedric nods, doing his best to keep himself upright as you nervously open your mouth and take his fingers down to the knuckle, Cedric swallows his urge to just fuck you right there and bites back a groan as your tongue begins swirling around his fingers. Your movements are slow and timid at first, but you move your hand up to hold Cedric’s fingers in place and begin moving your head back and forth, moving quickly but taking your time to drag your tongue up and down Cedric’s long digits.

“Fuck that’s perfect kitten.” Cedric smiles weakly, feeling his cock begin to throb in desire.

“Does it feel good daddy?” You ask, pushing Cedric back a bit so you have room to get down on your knees. “Yes, so good.”

You smile and pull down Cedric’s sweatpants by the waistband and his hand finds its way into your hair, softly at first, but as his length finally springs free, his grip tightens and you smirk knowingly.

Taking Cedric’s shaft into your hands you begin teasing the hufflepuff’s tip with your tongue, running it up and down his thick shaft as his grip on your hair tightens and soft groans leave his lips. You pause for a moment, and Cedric, sensing your fear, places his other hand on your jaw and gathers your hair into his hand.

“You’re doing so well, kitten, making daddy feel so good.” Cedric sighs contently with a grin. Your smile returns to your face and you nod, taking Cedric’s length into your mouth as far as you could and using your hand for what you can’t reach, and like with his fingers you begin swirling your tongue around, testing the waters and glazing up to see Cedric’s reaction.

Eyes closed, mouth agape, and incoherent curses spilling from his lips, you feel your confidence grow and you pick up the pace, bobbing your head back and forth and slowing down to tease his tip. You grow daring and attempt to go deeper, and as Cedric feels his tip hitting the back of your throat he lets out a low groan and feels his hips rolling gently.

With tears pricking your eyes you take Cedric’s cock as the arousal in your pussy grows and with eyes clouded by pleasure, the gray-eyed hufflepuff smirks.

“Use your finger kitten, and make circles around until you find the right spot.” Cedric instructs, watching your hand travel down past your stomach and into your panties.

You experiment around, slowly moving upwards until you feel it, a sudden burst of pleasure hitting you right in the perfect spot..

“Mmh!” You moan, moving your fingers faster against your clit, finally feeling the need in your lower stomach being satisfied.

Your moans send vibrations up Cedric’s shaft and send the brunette doubling over in pleasure with one hand on the wall behind you for support.

“T-That’s it kitten, fuck.” Cedric sighs, watching your hand move back and forth against your clit while your tongue swirls addictively against his cock.

For a moment, with his eyes practically rolling into the back of his head Cedric forgets ‘the lesson’ and delves deeper into the pleasure, his eyes train on your lips wrapped around him and your fingers moving innocently, still too nervous to go deeper, the feeling of you gagging was enough to get him to snap out for a moment and let go of his grip on your hair.

“W-What’s wrong daddy?” You ask, looking up to Cedric with wide eyes.

“N-Nothing, it’s just time for our next lesson.” He explains, helping you up and leading you over to his bed.

Pushing you backwards onto the bed, Cedric watches intrigued as your eyes fly about his room instead of looking at him and he bites back a smirk.

“That’s enough kitten, lay back.” Cedric commands.

You oblige immediately, slowly lowering yourself onto the soft bed and wringing your fingers together over your stomach.

Cedric pauses, dragging his eyes over your body and taking in every curve, you feel the insecurity bubble in your stomach and you move your hands to hide it, when Cedric grabs them and whispers a simple, “don’t, you’re beautiful.”

Your face flushes red and you allow Cedric to place your arms at your side before hooking his fingers on the sides of your soaked panties and pulling them down.

The full scent of your arousal hits him full force and the sight of it glistening all for him made the wish to just drop to his knees now unbearable.

“Okay kitten. I want you to spread your legs and play with your clit again.” Cedric orders, stepping back and crossing his arms.

“W-What?”

“Spread your legs and fuck yourself with your fingers, kitten.” Cedric repeats, watching in amusement as your eyes widen and your lips purse nervously, legs spreading and fingers finding themselves on your clit nevertheless.

“L-Like this daddy?” You ask, gently teasing your fingers down your slit.

“Faster kitten.” Cedric replies plainly, smirking to himself.

You gasp suddenly as your digits begin to pick up the pace, moving in circles around your throbbing clit. “L-Like this?” You pant, throwing your head back gently as the pleasure

“That’s perfect darling. How does it feel?” Cedric smirks.

“Good. So-So good!” You squeak, curling your toes at the euphoria rushing through your abdomen and through your veins as you push your fingers faster and faster.

Your hips buck upwards and your panting grows heavier as your thoughts and movement begin to grow erratic. Cedric licks his lips and steps forwards, lowering himself down onto his knees and prying your hand away, he watches in delight as your eyes widen in confusion at him, your mouth opening and closing as you try to regain your thoughts.

“Just relax, kitten.” Cedric coos, inching closer and licking a thick stripe up your core, lingering seductively on your clit as he pushes it around with his tongue.

“O-Oh fuck.” You moan, tightening your grip on the sheet as you watch Cedric suck gently on the sensitive bud. His large calloused hands massage your thighs as he works, gently caressing them as they shake in pleasure.

He shifts his attention downwards, letting his tongue slide down until he reaches your slit and then, agonizingly slowly, he begins to dip the tip of his tongue in and out, again and again, watching you shake and whine impatiently, waiting for you to break.

You try to pull him closer to you by burying your hand into his hair and tugging on him, but he keeps his pace, no matter how hard you buck your hips or grind down on him he persists until finally you beg.

“Please daddy, please. I-I need you! Fuck go faster.” You cry in pure need.

Cedric smirks to himself victoriously and obliges.

“Whatever my princess wants.”

As if a switch was flipped Cedric begins darting his tongue out as quick as he could, going in and out and lapping up and down.

The hufflepuff moves his hand from your thigh and begins slowly teasing you as his tongue swirls around your clit. You whimper at the feeling of his fingers sinking into your slit and grind your hips instinctively at the feeling. Your core clenches as Cedric’s digits pick up the pace, your mouth parts over and over again, trying to find your voice, but no words come out. You couldn’t think, couldn’t move, all you could feel was Cedric fingers thrusting in and out of you and his tongue sending delicious shockwaves up your stomach it was too much, but it felt so fucking good. You could feel your body clench and something tightening inside you that kept tugging everytime Cedric’s fingers slammed back into you.

Cedric chuckles to himself, sending even more vibrations up your core. He knew what was coming. Your breathing was growing erratic, your hips were bucking and you were squirming around in his grip.

“Do you feel that kitten?” He smirks, watching as you nod vigorously.

“Let go, darling. Relax.” Cedric hushes in a soft tone.

His fingers don’t stop as you finally give in, white flashing your vision as you cry and feel your release, crying Cedric’s name over and over again as he helps you ride out your high.

“Beautiful darling.” He murmurs, cleaning you off with his tongue as you whimper in response.

“How are you feeling? We can stop if-”

You cut him off.

“No! P-Please daddy, it feels so good I want more.” Your eyes widen at your own words and your face flushes a deep shade of red, you look down.

Cedric’s eyes widen for a moment before his grin returns and he nods.

“Very well then.” He murmurs, ditching his sweatpants that were wrapped around his ankles and climbing onto his bed.

Pushing you back gently he positions himself above you and takes his lips into yours in a soft kiss, waiting for you to return it.

Your eyes close and you tilt your head to the side, allowing Cedric to part his lips and tease his tongue along yours.

You breathe sharply in through your nose as the taste of your pussy still lingers on Cedric’s lips, but you find yourself moaning at the sensation, wrapping your arms around Cedric’s neck to pull him closer to you.

His hands move to your back where he skillfully unclips your bra, breaking the kiss for only a second as he pulls it from your arms and tosses it away.

Before you even realize it his lips are on your again, harder this time and far more passionate, he moves his lips slowly but fully, making you moan in satisfaction.

You feel your arousal grow again as heat builds up in your core, you swing your legs impatient around Cedric’s torso in a wordless plea to fuck you.

Cedric smiles into the kiss and without removing his lips from yours he uses his hands to loosen the grip from your legs and place them back on his bed. He pushes them apart and gets himself into position, before slowly pushing his length into you. You drew a sharp breath as he pushed deeper into you, but the sharp feeling went away almost immediately as you shifted yourself into a more comfortable position.

Cedric has to restrain himself from starting as he waits for your permission to start. Being your first time, he didn’t want to accidentally hurt you, or start before you were ready.

He lets out a breathy groan, you wrapped around him so perfectly, he had to pull away from your lips for a moment to bite his lip.

You capture his lips back into yours and whisper softly for him to start, Cedric doesn’t hesitate and begins to roll his hips in and out, building speed with each thrust of his hips.

“Fuck kitten you feel so good.” He moans, moving his lips to your neck and sucking on the sensitive skin as you sigh in pleasure.

Your breathing came out in rough pants with each thrust from Cedric’s hips, mixing with moans of ecstasy as he filled you up each time, hitting the spot deep in you that had your toes curling and your head lolling back.

“Faster daddy please!” You cry as Cedric nods and quickened his pace making shallow but thorough thrusts and sent vibration all the way up your body and through your veins.

“F-Fuck right there.” You beg, holding onto Cedric’s back like your life depended on it.

“You’re doing so well for me kitten, f-fuck.” Cedric praises causing light shivers to go down your spine.

You whimper softly.

Cedric chuckles softly as he buries his neck in your neck again and bucks his hips, burying himself fully causing a sharp gasp.

“Kitten you feel so good wrapped around my cock, Merlin I could fuck you for days.” The brunette murmurs darkly.

Your face darkens even more and you can only squeak out a small ‘thank you’ before Cedric begins snapping his hips back and forth again.

“Oh- oh fuck.”

“You like it when I praise you kitten? Tell you how perfect you feel while I fuck you.” Cedric taunts, pressing hard kisses down your neck.

“Yes daddy, I love it!” You shout, tightening your grip on his back as Cedric thrusts faster and harder

The tight sensation in your stomach was back and it was getting harder to hold in your climax with Cedric thrusts still hitting your core perfectly.

“D-Daddy, I’m so close.” You pant, arching your back and dropping your head into the pillows below you.

“I-I’m almost there kitten, you’re doing so well.” Cedric breathes, moaning in pleasure as you clench suddenly, trying to keep your release at bay.

“It’s alright darling, cum for me love.” Cedric murmurs, connecting your lips once more as his thrusts grow slower. You nod firmly, arching your back and feeling your eyes roll back as ecstasy pulses through your being.

The shockwaves from your release and the sound of your voice shouting his name pushes Cedric over the edge and after one final thrust his vision flashes.

“Oh fuck y/n.” He moans, slowly rolling his hips to ride out his high.

Cedric smiles as he finishes, collapsing gently beside you.

“How was it, kitten?” Cedric asks teasingly, placing his hand on your cheek.

“W-Wow.” You mutter after a moment. “It was perfect Ced, I learned so much.” You smile.

“That's great kitten, you did… amazing.” Cedric smirks, finding his voice getting caught in his throat as he speaks.

You glance out the window and see darkness pouring through the glass panes.

“M’ getting tired Ced.” You sigh, getting ready to throw the covers off and try to get back to your room.

“Hey, hey. It’s alright. You can stay here, I’ll clean you up.” The hufflepuff insists, sitting up suddenly and grabbing his wand.

You nod and close your eyes for a moment, he murmurs a spell and when you open your eyes again you are cleaned off and Cedric was walking towards you with clean clothes, wearing his sweatpants again.

“Here, I-I’ll get you some water.” he smiles, laying a large t-shirt and a pair of his boxers onto the bed.

You nod meekly and sit up carefully to grab the clothing.

Shrugging on the shirt, you watch as Cedric makes his way to his door.

“Thank you by the way.” You sigh hoarsely, smiling to yourself.

“Yeah, no problem. I’ll be back in a moment.” Cedric nods, opening the door to his dorm and leaving.

“Godric…” Cedric sighs to himself as he leaves. For a moment he leans on the door and just breathes. This was just supposed to be a ‘lesson.’ A one night thing where you’d be together one night and forget. But, how was he going to forget? The way you touched his skin, said his name, called him ‘daddy.’

Fuck.

By the time he reached the common room the party had died down to only the hufflepuff students who were either passed out or cleaning up.

The refreshments table still had a few pitchers of water no one had touched so Cedric grabs one and two cups before turning and walking towards the stairs.

When he returned you were half passed out on his bed, your eyes flutter lightly as he walks in and Cedric can’t help but smile. You look so beautiful lying there, exhausted, but absolutely stunning.

“Hey, I brought you something to drink.” He whispers, pouring you a drink before helping you sit up.

“Mm-” You nod, taking the cup from his hand and drinking it.

The cool water feels amazing down your dry throat, you smile and thank him again before handing the cup back to him and collapsing back into bed.

“I-I’ll sleep on the floor.” Cedric mutters, placing the cup onto his bedside stand.

“No- Can you stay with me, please?” You murmur out suddenly, shifting to the side of the bed and snuggling yourself into his blanket.

“Yeah, of course.”Cedric smiles, sitting beside you before laying and getting situated in the covers.

You turn as soon as he’s comfortable and cuddle yourself into his chest.

“G’night Cedric.” You yawn, feeling your fatigue pull you into unconsciousness.

“Goodnight y/n.” The hufflepuff murmurs, wrapping his arms around your torso and resting his chin over your head.

There was something soothing about your breathing, the scent of your hair, the feeling of your skin against his. Something about you felt right, you felt perfectly sculpted against him.

Almost, ethereal.

But you deserved so much better than him. More than a playboy that has used every trick in the book. More than someone who could barely remember his nights because of alcohol. More than him.

You were innocent, more or less, compared to him. You still had a chance.

He sighs, pulling you closer to him.

For tonight though it didn’t matter, you were asleep peacefully in his arms and he was there with you. You could make the choice in the morning. But for now he was here, with you.

And that was all that mattered.

#cedric diggory #cedric diggory fanfiction #cedric smut #cedric diggory imagine #Cedric #Cedric Diggory smut #cedric fanfiction #cedric fic #cedric diggory x reader #cedric diggory fluff #cedric x y/n #cedric diggory smut #cedric diggory x reader fluff #cedric diggory x reader smut #cedric x reader #cedric diggory x you #nsfw.anya

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erodasfishtacos · 3 years ago

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hi! i’d love to read ceo harry challenging yn power as in maybe she tries to dom him but he doesn’t obey and kinda sends her into sub space by saying smth like “we’re gonna do what i say now” and she. any decline ?? i hope it’s clear lol

Ooh, I love a power struggle.

—

There had been sexual tension all day.

YN was constantly pushing at Harry’s buttons to get him to break but he was being extremely stubborn today.

It was a weekend where Ivy was away at Anne’s.

She had been a nightmare all week and the couple hadn’t found even one moment to enjoy each other even once.

That was uncommon because of how often Harry was trying to get in his wife’s pants (and vice versa) which was at least once a day.

Harry wasn’t in the mood to sub. He was in the mood to ruin his wife.

He wasn’t going to flat out say if. No, he liked the power struggle - loved giving his wife a hard time when she tries to order him around.

The way they talk to each other when they play is interesting.

Outside of the bedroom, Harry would never tell his wife to shut up or tell her she was being a bitch, in their safe space to play with all this already negotiate and agreed on - it was all good to go.

“Lick me out,” YN demands when Harry slips into the pool with her.

“No, let me swim in peace,” He relies, beginning his laps in the pool with a backstroke, ignoring his glaring wife.

“You’re a dick,” She tells him with a (fake) scathing tone as she kisses the back of her lips.

Oh shit, now they’re getting into it, Harry thinks.

“And you’re a pathetic little girl who looks like a crybaby beggin’ f’her cunt to be licked,” He replies haughtily from the other side of the pool.

“I’m pathetic? If I didn’t stop you, you’re face would be between my thighs constantly.”

Well, she wasn’t wrong there.

“Maybe I’ll consider eatin’ y’out, if you come over here and suck my cock like a good girl,” Harry smirks, reaching down to palm himself.

His wife rolls her eyes, “Go fuck yourself.”

And with that, she’s stepping out of the pool and stripping out of her already tiny bikini.

She knew Harry hated when she was naked on their estate during the day because there were always landscapers and groundskeepers around.

Then she stretches out of one of the sunchairs, everything exposed as she soaks on the sun rays with pleasure.

“Put your fucking suit back on,” Harry demands, clutching tightly at the edge of the pool.

She ignores him, her finger going to circle around her hard peak, “Submit to me and I will. Be a good sub.”

“Not when y’actin like a whore,” Harry hisses, lifting himself out of the pool with a grunt, he wasn’t going to risk someone seeing his wife naked.

“You think you’re tough? Everyone on this earth knows how fucking whipped you are for me,” YN bites back with a smile that makes Harry want to smack her arse hard.

“Get y’arse in the house now,” Harry orders, his tone taking on a authoritative edge that sent a thrill up her spine.

“Nah, I’m good.”

He’s striding over confidently, he was going to get her to submit one way or another. He’s roughly flipping her on her stomach.

With one hand, he gathers her arms behind her back, and holds them there. The other hand comes down to land hard smack to her left cheek (right over where the small Harry is tattooed).

“Y’want t’act like I don’t own you when you have my name on your bum,” He snickers meaning, landing another one right over the previous one.

“Could say the same,” She retorts breathlessly, referring to her name tattooed on his chest.

“But I never said you didn’t own me darlin’, know y’do,” He murmurs with a soft peck to her shoulder before surprising her with a smack to the other cheek.

Harry had to give it to his wife.

She was feisty today, usually she would slip onto a nice, hazy submissive mindset with a few mean words and some blows to her arse.

“Just give in darlin’ know y’want to, sweet thing,” He coos sarcastically, ducking down to bite at the hot skin of where she was smacked.

“Fuck you,” She whimpers with as much conviction as she can, weakly kicking back at him.

Harry barks out a mean laugh, “Who do y’think you’re talkin’ to? You’re my little plaything, y’know that?”

He can’t help but give her bum one final hard smack, admiring the way it jiggles from the aftershock before he’s flipping her back over and pulling her to sit up.

“Be a g’girl and suck me, c’mon,” Harry goads again, thumb slipping between her full lips and tugging the bottom one down.

Her eyes are a bit wide and hazy, like when she is starting to slip into a more submissive state, but she’s not quiet there yet.

Oh, he can get her there.

“You wouldn’t lick me, I’m not doin’ shit for you,” YN bites out stubbornly, nipping at the digit between her lips.

“You’re right, sweetheart. Spread ‘em, let me taste you. Y’needy thing,” He hums, mouth-watering when she parts her legs and he’s faced with her beautiful folds.

She lays back, completely prepared to be pleasured but squeals when Harry spreads her folds and lands a sharp slap to her clit.

“We’re going to do what I say from here on out, d’you understand me?” Harry rasps firmly, snickering when her legs jolt when he pinches her clit between his fingers.

“Y-yes, pleas,” YN moans, voice becoming feathery and high-pitched, such a good girl.

“Yes who?” He demands, slipping the tips of his two fingers into her to just tease at stretching her open on them.

“Yes sir.”

#ceorry #file

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drakenology · 4 years ago

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Bully!Dabi laughing and making fun about a school girl big tiddies😳 it's as if the buttons on your uniform blouse are going to explode at any moment, and Dabi love make you feel bad about it

𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 - 𝐃𝐀𝐁𝐈

“baby, can you meet me tonight in detention?”

MDNI

tw: non-con (yeah ik crazy right? i’m taking that out of my rules so feel free to request now.) , bullying, third year aged, mean!dabi, creep!dabi?, boobjob, cumplay, degradation, raw sex and public sex

A/N: hi hiii, this is a lovely request that I literally started writing as soon as I got it. Thank you nonnie for sending this in and as always enjoy!

You tried to keep them hidden whenever you saw him walking through the halls with his asshole entourage. But oversized sweaters, hoodies and cardigans never did the trick. Dabi always ended up seeing them, practically bursting through your school blouse after an administrator would yell at you to get into proper uniform. He was ruthless, grabbing your shirt and popping it open by the buttons to expose your large breasts. He’d laugh at you as you go to cover yourself up with the remnants of your blouse, poking and prodding at the exposed skin of your breasts. He’d pinch your cheeks as you become flustered, smirking and leaning in close to you.

“What? They were gonna come out anyways. Stupid tits were practically opening your shirt for you. Thought I’d give ‘em a hand.” He mocked, squeezing your breasts as he pinned you to a nearby locker. You snatch away from him and run away to the bathroom to fix your blouse, tears stinging in your eyes from the embarrassment of it all. The rest of your day was full of shame as everyone stared at your ripped blouse, administration granting you detention for violating dress code for the second time today.

At the end of the day, you stay behind in class, watching as everyone chats their way out the classroom doors to return home for the evening. All the other students who were to stay for detention come trudging inside; Dabi included to your displeasure. You shuffle in your seat out of discomfort, pulling your sweater down further and holding it in between stern fists as if it were to fly up at any second to reveal your breasts to the whole class. Dabi winks at you after sitting directly across from you, softly mooing at you to insinuate that you were a cow.

“I see they made you cover up those udders, fat tits. What were you thinking walking around with your tits hanging out? This is a school you know.” He says to you at a low tone of voice, talking not allowed in detention. You try and ignore him, scribbling on your notebook as you try and concentrate on your homework. Dabi sits slouched in his seat, writing something on a piece of paper and balling it up to throw it at your head. You glare over at him, the paper ball falling onto your desk in front of you. You open it and see that it’s a note.

“Meet me on the roof, fat tits.” it read, hand-writing just as childish as he is. You roll your eyes and crumple up the note, standing to go to throw it in the trash. Dabi smirks, sitting up in his seat to raise his hand.

“Yo, teach. I gotta piss. Can I use the bathroom?” He asks, chuckling to himself when the administrator grants him another two weeks detention for his foul language.

“Ask correctly or ‘piss’ on yourself, Mr. Todoroki.” He spits, returning to his book. Dabi sighs, rolling his eyes before caving in.

“Fine. May I please use the restroom, sir?” He asks once more, sarcasm dripping from his tone. He stands once he has permission, leaning over to whisper in your ear.

“I’ll be waiting, utters." He taunts, poking your chest before walking out of the room. You sit for a while, stirring in confusion. Do you go outside to see what he wants or do you stay seated and let him wait for nothing. You sigh and raise your hand, politely asking to use the restroom too. The administrator, uninterested at this point waves you away and returns to his book. You shuffle out of the room and walk upstairs to the roof of the school where Dabi stood by the metal fences barricading the ledge.

"Ah. So nice of you to meet with me, fat tits." Dabi smirks, pulling you up to him by the arm. You groan, shuddering at his touch in disgust.

"What do you want, Touya?" You ask, folding your arms over your chest unconsciously; a defense mechanism you've picked up dealing with him over the years.

"Haven't you heard the saying? A guy who picks on you also has a crush on you." Dabi hints, pulling your arms away from your chest, lifting your sweater up to expose your pretty bra. You shriek, trying to cover yourself up again only for your hands to be pinned above your head against the wall.

“So your excuse for treating me like shit is because you’ve got some sick crush on me?” You spat, yet unable to be completely furious as his lips meet yours in a hot and sticky kiss you can’t seem to shake. His tongue slips into your mouth to travel around inside, pulling away with a single string of spit as you pant. You hated him but, fuck, why did he have to be such a good kisser?

“You’ve always been my favorite little toy. Wanna know why?” He asks, leaning in to kiss and lick the skin of your neck. You stifle a moan, not giving him the satisfaction of knowing he’s turning you on.

“Why?” You choke, cheeks burning as his cold hands travel up the sides of your frame.

“These.” He answers, his hands pulling your breasts out of the cups of your bra, hissing at the sight of your pretty nipples. He takes one in his mouth, smirking against your skin when you start to moan helplessly. Your thighs press together as your panties start to soak with slick, Dabi noticing his effect on you quickly.

“P-Please stop..” You whisper desperately, looking into Dabi’s crystal blue eyes with a mixture of lust and uncertainty. He grins, knowing deep down you want him too, whether you said it words or not. His hands travel up your thighs and between your legs, forcing them open to prod his fingers at the growing wet spot on your panties.

“Heh.. I don’t think you want me to stop, do you? God, look how sloppy you are already.” He retorts, yanking your panties down and hiking up your skirt to further expose you. He reaches down to unbutton and unzip his own pants to let his length spring free, your eyes locking onto his bright red head as it leaked with pre-cum.

“Help me out with this, will ya, doll?” He asks, hands caressing your face as you lead you onto the concrete ground. As you sat on your knees, your hands wiping away a stray tear that streams down your cheek. You pull out your breasts a bit further, taking Dabi’s cock in between them and stroking it slowly beneath your cleavage. Dabi sighs out, his head handing back as he ruts his hips upward to match your pace.

“Fuck, just like that. If only you could see how slutty you look.” Dabi groans, voice slightly hoarse as you get him off with your breasts. You groan when you feel his cock start to throb against your skin, half of you disgusted and the rest of you turned on beyond belief as you watch him writhe in pleasure from the very breasts he teased and made fun of so harshly.

“Fuck, stand up.” Dabi demands, practically yanking you up on your feet by your arm and pinning you against the metal fence behind you. Not caring enough to prep you before, he pushes himself inside your weeping pussy; starting his thrusts at a brutal pace. You cry out, your moans echoing through the vast space of the empty roof of the school. Dabi’s hand comes up to cover your mouth as his hips moved faster, wet slapping causing him to groan.

“Ya like that, huh slut? Like being stuffed full at school don’t you?” Dabi asks, expecting an answer out of you after he uncovers your drooling and mewling mouth,“You’re mine. Say it. Tell me you’re mine.”

“”M yours, Touya!” You gasp, feeling the delicious head of his cock brush against your favorite spot with reckless abandon as it blurs your reasoning. You feel your slick spill down your thighs as he ruts into you from behind, his balls slapping up against your swollen clit only adding to the sinful pleasure you were feeling. You almost can’t believe you’re being fucked by your bully on the roof as your hands cling to the metal barb-wired fence you were pinned against, feeling Dabi’s hands reach up and grab your breasts from behind to pull you back onto his cock with fervor. Animalistic growls leave his lips as he pinches and teases your nipples, huffing obscenities into your ear.

“That’s right you fucking whore, take my cock like a good little slut.” He growls as he uses your pussy like he owns you, his cock throbbing inside you as he threatens to cum inside you, “Gonna make you mine forever, yeah? Sound good, slut?” You shake your head no, your body language telling a different tale as you feel your legs get so weak you can hardly stand on your own as Dabi holds you up by your neck.

His hand squeezes around your throat as he cums thick inside you, your gooey cunt fluttering around his cock as you follow shortly behind him. You pant and sob as you come down from your high, Dabi continuing to use your pussy until every drop of his cum is deep inside you; even going the extra mile to scoop up whatever remnants of his cum that leaked from you with his fingers and shoving them into your mouth with a satisfied groan.

“Now, that wasn’t so bad was it?” Dabi smirks, taking your panties from the ground and handing them to you with a smug look in his eye. You take them and slide them up over your legs and put them back on with a sniffle, ashamed of what you’ve done with him yet strangely satisfied as your cunt still clenches and throbs around nothing after the fact. Confusion stirs within your mind, your thighs trembling as you sat on the bench and watched Dabi walk down the stairs once more.

After you wait for Dabi to walk back downstairs to the detention room, you follow behind shortly after, folding your legs as you feel Dabi’s cum start to spill out and onto your panties. He smirks over at you, leaning back into his seat as he passes another note to you.

“Let’s do that again tomorrow, fat tits. You’re fun ;)”

#dabi smut #bnha smut #.royal requests 👑📜#bakugo smut #bnha izuku smut #bnha todoroki smut #bnha kirishima smut #bnha shinsou

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sanguineterrain · 3 years ago

Text

Brooklyn Honey - Bucky Barnes x Reader

(Repost!) Hello, this is for the lovely @wkemeup’s 9k writing challenge. I decided to go with the song prompt “Life in the City” by The Lumineers. It really reminded me of 40s Bucky.

Title: Brooklyn Honey

Summary: Life in the city ain’t always so pretty, but you’ve got Bucky and he’s got you.

Pairing: 1940s!Bucky Barnes x female!reader

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: nah

***

“That’s so not how you do it.”

“Sorry, I must’ve missed the day you wrote the manual on how to put up curtains.”

“You sure did, and I can tell you as an expert, the nails aren’t supposed to resemble a mountain range.”

“Smartass. C’mere.”

Bucky’s palm opened and you took a nail, carefully tapping it into the wall.

“Or is it the skyline you’re going for?”

“You’re pretty mouthy for an assistant.”

“I keep it interesting, doll.”

“Is that what we’re calling it?”

“James Barnes, what on earth are you doing in there?!”

Your eyes went wide and you hurried to scramble off the chair you were standing on. Bucky put a hand on your back, shaking his head.

“Buck—”

“I got it, don’t worry. Keep hammering.”

“But—”

“Honey, don’t you trust me?”

“Absolutely not.”

More knocking, faster and louder this time.

“Coming, Mrs. Anderson!”

Bucky buttoned up his shirt, smoothing his pomade-slicked hair back, and went to answer.

You stepped down from the chair anyway, daring to peek around the corner.

He had his arms up, trying to fill the entire door frame and hide the obnoxiously yellow curtains you probably weren’t supposed to have. Mrs. Anderson, Steve and Bucky’s busybody next door neighbor, was a small, shriveled, old woman with a perpetually pinched face that looked like it had been stored in a jar of formaldehyde for the last twenty years. She kept trying to look over Bucky’s shoulder but he wouldn’t let her, moving when she did.

“—could’ve sworn I heard hammering coming from this apartment.”

“Oh! You must’ve heard me fixing my bike.”

“You don’t have a bike, James.”

“Did I say my bike? I meant Steve’s.”

“Steve rides a bike?”

“Absolutely. Keeps him fit.”

“I don’t recall seeing him ever—”

“Well, bye, Mrs. Anderson! Always a pleasure to see you, ma’am.”

She gave another stern look before shaking her head, walking away.

You sighed as Bucky shut the door with his foot, a too sly smile on his face.

“Didn’t I tell you to trust me?”

“I think you might be a worse liar than Steve.”

“Well, ouch, doll.”

“First of all, who’s ever heard of needing a hammer to fix a bike?”

“We can be the first.”

“Next time, I’m answering the door.”

You clambered back onto the chair, returning to knocking in the nails.

“I still don’t understand why you wanted curtains in the first place.”

“It adds a homely touch, doll. Aren’t you the one who’s always complaining about how drab this place is?”

“Of course, but it’s not my apartment.”

“It could be, with how often you’re over,” Bucky said sweetly.

“Keep dreaming, Barnes.”

“I will,” he assured with a smile that could melt butter.

You shook your head and returned to focus on the curtains. True, the first one was beyond help in terms of nail placement, but the least you could do was try and make the next one even.

Bucky had offered at least ten times to do it himself but there was no way he was getting his hands on a hammer after what had happened when he’d tried to install some shelves last winter.

Besides, you were better at decorating when it came down to it. At least, that’s what Bucky kept insisting, letting you do essentially anything you wanted to the apartment.

The chair suddenly groaned under additional weight and you startled as you felt the side of a body press against yours.

“How’s it goin’?”

“Bucky, this chair really isn’t meant for two people.”

“You sure? Seems pretty sturdy to me.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

Bucky wrapped an arm around your waist and you fixed him with a look.

“What? Don’t want you to fall.”

“How valiant of you.”

“Ain’t it?”

He hopped off before you could scold him further, grinning up at you.

“Beer?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Bucky disappeared and returned a minute later with an open bottle for you, holding it so you could sip safely while still perched on the chair.

Then you kept hammering, eyes narrowed as you focused on not hitting anything other than the nail.

Bucky watched from the floor as you did so, leaning back on his hands.

“What’re you looking at?” you asked after a while, glancing at him from the corner of your eye.

He shrugged, a gentle smile on his face.

“The city.”

***

“Honey, I’m home!”

“What did I say about that, Barnes?”

“You said… you’ll love me for all eternity because you’re as sweet as honey?”

“I think it was more along the lines of, ‘don’t call me honey unless you mean it.’”

“I always mean it, Y/N.”

And that was a little more sincerity than you were willing to explore, so you pointed to the bag instead.

“What’s that?”

Bucky grinned, setting a giant paper sack on the counter.

“Lemons.”

“What?”

“Lemons. You know, the little yellow fruits that make you do this?”

Bucky puckered his mouth and smacked his tongue, eyes screwed shut.

“Lemon’s not a fruit.”

“It sure is! Fruit got seeds. Read that in a book about agriculture. We produce a lot of corn, did you know that?“

“Okay, Bucky, the presiding question still remains: why do you have every lemon in the city?”

“There was a good deal at the docks. Dirt cheap for produce. Some guys told me they were takin’ some home for their wives. Didn’t want you to feel left out.”

“I’m not your wife.”

Bucky just grinned. You rolled your eyes.

“I don't know who taught you this, but the way to a girl’s heart is not twenty pounds of lemons.”

“Think of all the lemonade we can make.”

“Unless you’ve also got FDR and his cabinet in those bags, we’re gonna have a lot of leftovers.”

“Look at it this way: no vitamin C deficiency. One less thing to worry ‘bout.”

“Bucky.”

“They’re not all lemons, doll. I got other stuff too. Tomatoes, cabbage, snuck some cucumbers, even bananas.”

You sighed, smiling tiredly. This ration was taking its toll on everyone. You knew Bucky was doing his best, had seen the vegetables and thought of you and how much you missed having cucumber salad and tomato sandwiches like you used to.

“Thank you, Bucky, really. I appreciate you.”

You brushed past him to begin preparing the excess vegetables you three wouldn’t eat this week to pickle. Salt and sugar was going to be hard to gather, but you’d manage. You always did.

“Welcome, doll.”

He beamed, eyes full of warmth as he watched you.

“You gonna stay for dinner?”

“I dunno. Seems like Steve’s gettin’ kinda tired of me,” you laughed.

“Never. ‘Sides, even if he was, doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, really?”

“Nope. ‘Cause you stay for me.”

“And where did you get that idea from?”

He shrugged.

“Seemed kinda obvious, doll. You’re smitten, admit it.”

“Oh dear, you’ve got me all figured out. However did you know?”

“I’m a bright fella.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You ain’t saying no…”

“Really, I have to say no? Can’t you tell I only stick around for the great deals you get on produce?”

“But it’s me that gets the great deals, so really, you’re still staying for me.”

Bucky was against the counter now, shoulder to shoulder with you.

You sighed, hand on your hip as you stared at the table.

“What the hell are we going to do with all these lemons?”

“We’ll figure something out. Always do, don’t we?”

You hummed, leaning your head on his shoulder, aware he was talking about more than the lemons.

“Yeah. We always do.”

***

Steve had been home for a while, wordlessly letting you in when you’d shown up an hour ago. You didn’t have to explain anything to him anymore.

The record player was on, crooning gently. Steve was in the corner, drawing, away from the window after the breeze had whipped his papers around one too many times.

“Can’t believe they’re building another skyscraper down on Lawrence.”

Steve frowned.

“Really? Won’t be able to see the sunset now.”

“Yeah. And Brooklyn’s not exactly known for its scenery to begin with. Saw a rat and a pigeon fighting over a pretzel this morning.”

Steve chuckled from the floor, shaking his head.

“Times are tough. Even for rats and pigeons.”

“Sure are.”

“Nice curtains, by the way. I like the color.”

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry. Did Bucky ask—?”

“No,” he answered, smile evident in his voice. “But that’s alright. I know he’s just tryin’ to gauge what you like.”

“What?”

“Yeah, after the war’s over and all, he’s gonna try and buy a nicer place.”

“And he wants my furnishing tips?”

Steve shrugged, gaze soft and knowing.

“Guess so.”

You cleared your throat, pushing a lock of hair behind your ear.

“Want some lemonade?”

“Jesus, there’s more? I thought we’d run out of bushels.”

“You’d think, right? I put ‘em in the icebox so they won’t spoil so fast.”

“Sure, yeah. Thanks, Y/N.”

You were in the middle of stirring the pitcher when Bucky came in.

He didn’t greet you or Steve immediately, like he usually did, instead setting down his keys, then slapping the mail onto the table.

“Well, hey there, mister. Fancy a drink? Today’s special is sour lemonade, your favorite.”

Bucky looked up, startled, and glanced at the pitcher before nodding, attempting a half smile.

“Sure, doll. Thanks.”

“Everything okay, Buck?”

He nodded, slipping away to the bathroom with a sigh.

You turned to Steve, who shrugged.

“Long day at the docks, I guess.”

***

June twelfth. That was when Bucky was being shipped out, somewhere in Europe, too far from you. This entire year you’d been holding your breath, hoping, needing the draft to leave him alone.

Now they were taking him away from you in less than a week.

You were in the apartment, lying on the floor, on Bucky’s second to last day. That’s how he found you upon coming home.

“Trying to count all the cracks in the ceiling, doll? You’ll be here all night.”

You had a glass of lemonade by your head, spiked with a bit of rum. It was already warm, because it was summer and things were supposed to be warm in the summer.

The curtains danced in front of the window, yellow like sunshine and all those goddamn lemons in the freezer. The only respite from an otherwise colorless world.

“This city is so ugly.”

Bucky looked up at the sound of your voice. He walked over, crouching by your arm.

“Think so?”

“Yeah. Can’t find a single pretty thing in the city.”

“I can.”

“Can you?”

“Sure. She’s looking at me right now.”

“That was sappy.”

“Yes it was.”

Bucky lay down, rolling onto his side next to you, taking a sip from your glass.

“But I ain’t mean it any less.”

You hummed, closing your eyes.

“Well, for what it’s worth then, I think you’re handsome.”

“Oh, yeah?”

You could hear his proud smile.

“Don’t make me take it back.”

“No, I’m just surprised to hear it is all.”

“Surprised, huh? I’m certain I ain’t the first one to call you handsome.”

“You’re the only one I wanna hear it from.”

Something fluttered in your chest.

“What d’you say then? You and I, think we can take on a city as ugly as ours?”

He smiled.

“With you, doll?”

“Yeah.”

“With you, of course.”

“Good. I’m gonna hold you to that.”

Bucky propped his head up on his elbow. It was quiet again, with only your occasional sighs and his quiet breaths.

“What’re you looking at?” you breathed, opening your eyes.

“You.”

Bucky flicked a drop of lemonade from the tip of your nose.

You turned, now face to face.

And oh, Bucky’s blues. Those had been your color even before the curtains.

“I’m gonna miss you,” you blurted.

He smiled a little sadly.

“Gonna miss you too, Y/N.”

You pushed your lips together, taking a deep breath.

“You were right, you know.”

“‘Bout what?”

“That day when you brought home all those lemons. You said that I stay for you.”

Bucky’s lips quirked, gaze fond like it always was.

“All those times I stayed for dinner and pretended to know what I was doing putting up those curtains. I stayed for you.”

You wiped your nose quickly, sniffling.

“And I’m gonna keep staying.”

“Yeah? What if the bridge collapses tomorrow?”

“I’ll swim.”

“Even in the winter?”

“I’ll get myself a pair of ice skates.”

“You don’t know how to skate, doll.”

“That’s right. So you better come back safe and teach me.”

Bucky leaned in, nose brushing your cheek. He rolled over and carefully straddled you, holding his weight.

“I’ll be there, honey.”

“Now what did we say about that?”

Bucky’s eyebrows pinched in thought.

“Don’t say it if I don’t mean it?”

You hummed, pulling him closer, arms around his neck. Bucky’s lips were a millimeter from yours, breath fanning over your chin.

“Mm, I think it was something about eternity.”

Bucky was soft, tangy and sweet. His scruff scraped your cheek and your fingers curled into the baby hairs at the nape of his neck.

He slid his hands under your back and turned so you were on top, head on his chest. You lay like that for a while, listening to his heartbeat, arms strong around you.

Yellow fluttered in the breeze, tacked unevenly onto the wall, catching your eye.

Bucky glanced to the side, chuckling.

“Don’t let Anderson take our curtains away.”

“Of course not. I spent a weekend on those. She’ll have to fight me for ‘em.”

“Good God. Now I gotta worry about you brawling with old ladies and Steve getting into alley fights while I’m gone?”

“Nah. Steve’ll help me.”

“Oh, great.”

You reached up, brushing his jaw with your knuckles.

“Call me honey again.”

“Honey, honey, honey.”

You reached up to get just one last kiss, except it definitely wasn’t going to be the last. It couldn’t be.

“They’re not gonna take you away from me.”

Bucky shook his head, kissing you much slower this time, trying to memorize you before time ran out.

“Never. ‘M gonna think of you and I’ll be back ‘fore we know it.”

You nodded, wishing hard, hoping somebody was listening.

“Then, when I come back,” he whispered, promise riding on the summer air.

“We’re gonna make the best damn lemonade you’ve ever had.”

And maybe this city could take away your sunsets, your tea and jams, even your summer.

But if there was anything that was yours and yours only, it was the lemon pulp on Bucky’s lips and the undissolved sugar on your own, as bitter and pretty as home.

#bucky barnes x reader #1940s bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #kas9kwc #repost for those of you who asked <3

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holobandit · 3 years ago

Text

Howdy Neighbor!

Chapter 9: Movie Nite

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Agent Whiskey | Jack Daniels/AFAB!Reader

Read it on Ao3

Series Masterlist

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Warnings: no use of Y/N, Legal Age Gap, Fluff, Kissing, Smut, Thigh Riding, Fingering, Oral Sex, A Single Pussy Slap, Cum Eating, Overstimulation

Summary: Whiskey finally takes up that offer to watch Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron, with you at his place.

You hear your phone buzz. It’s a call from Whiskey. You look at the time, it’s almost noon. You pick up your phone and answer.

“Hey there, darlin’!” Whiskey’s voice beamed, “Guess what?”

You raise an eyebrow, “What?”

“You know that movie you were talkin’ bout? Uh-Spirit! That’s the name.” Whiskey ran a hand through his hair, “I was wonderin’ if you’d like to watch it with me? At my place, of course.”

You hummed, “Of course! When should I come over?”

“How bout this Sunday? And I thought you don’t have a car yet, or a driver’s license?” Whiskey leaned back on his couch.

“Well…” You felt the blood rush to your face, “I actually have my test tomorrow. I’m really nervous.”

“You had the best teacher out there, so you’ll do fine, sugar.” Whiskey smirked.

“Oh, I know.” You giggled, “But I’ll call you after the test tomorrow and tell you how I did. Then you’ll know if you need to pick me up or not.”

“That sounds great, sugar! I’ll let you go now, I got work to get to. Take care now!”

“I will! You do the same!” You ended the call.

You flop down on your bed. You really were dating this cowboy. He called you, wanting to hang out with you more. You had to pinch yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming. You glided downstairs and made your breakfast while looking over the notes you had made for the driver’s test. All you could think of was that first time in the beat-up ford ranger with Whiskey. All the pointers he gave you, he really was a great teacher.

Whiskey stared at his phone for a minute, smiling. He was glad that you walked into his life. When you had first opened that door, he was taken aback how beautiful you looked. He thought to himself in that moment that you’d never like an old man like him. He had heavy baggage too. When he told you about his late wife, Lela, he was sure you’d want nothing to do with him, but you shocked him. By accepting his invitation to the state fair, he was falling head over heels for you. That kiss on the Ferris wheel? He replayed that moment over and over again. Whiskey couldn’t wait until Sunday.

You passed your driver’s test with flying colors. You surprised yourself on how good you were. Once you were home, you were going to give Whiskey the call you had promised him. You pull up Whiskey’s contact in your phone and pressed the call button. It didn’t even git to the first ring when Whiskey picked up.

“Hey there, sugar!” Whiskey beamed, “How’d ya test go?”

“I passed!” You smiled.

“Now that’s great to hear!” Whiskey leaned back in his office chair, “Even the parallel parkin’?”

“Yup! Didn’t bump into a cone once!”

“There ya go!” Whiskey slapped his thigh, “Can’t wait to celebrate on Sunday.”

“Me too, Jack.” You pause for a second, “I hear a lot of commotion in the background, where are you?”

“I’m at the Statemen’s distillery, one of em’,” Whiskey rubbed the back of his neck, “We got multiple location across the states. Bein’ CEO-“

“Wait, you’re the CEO?” Your jaw dropped open.

“Yes, thought I told you when you were over at my cookout.”

“You just told me you worked there.”

“Well, now you know, darlin’!” Whiskey laughed.

“Look at you, being a big businessman.” You sing to him, “I should probably let you go, you got important stuff to do as CEO.”

Whiskey felt the heat crawl up his neck, “Alright then, stay safe now.”

“I will! You do too!” You hung up the phone.

Whiskey stared at his phone for a minute. He smiled, chuckling to himself. He still couldn’t believe that you were his. His attention was taken away from his phone and back to his work, but he had his mind on Sunday. He was going to make this movie night the best he can possibly make it.

Sunday finally came. You were buzzing with excitement. You put on your favorite outfit and jumped into your dad’s car. You drove down to Whiskey’s house; his bronco was parked out front. You park next to the bronco and head to the front door. You knock a couple of times. You hear footsteps coming downstairs.

Whiskey opens the door, and you were taken aback. You realize that you’ve never really seen Whiskey without his hat. His hair was neatly parted to the side and was wearing a casual button down with jeans. He was wearing the belt buckle you picked out for him at the state fair.

“Darlin’! So glad to see ya!” Whiskey gestures inside, “Kick of yer boots and make yourself comfortable on the couch over there. I gotta watch the popcorn so it doesn’t burn.”

“Okay!” You respond with a smile.

You walk inside and pull off your shoes and set them down next to Whiskey’s boots. Whiskey hurried to the kitchen. His house was almost like yours. It was a lot more open, with the large couch facing the TV that hung above the fireplace. The TV displayed the DVD menu for the movie “Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron”. Your heart skipped a beat. He went out and bought the movie for you two to watch. He could have just streamed it, you thought to yourself. That wasn’t Whiskey, he rather have the actual DVD rather than the digital copy.

You walk over to the couch and see that Whiskey had pushed his ottoman to the edge of the couch to make it longer. On the couch was a large blanket. You ran your hand over the blanket and almost melted, it was so soft.

“You know, you can get underneath it if you’d like.” Whiskey smirked.

You turn to see Whiskey holding a large bowl of popcorn. You feel the heat creep up your neck.

“I-uh-yeah, just waiting on you.” You stutter over your words.

Whiskey lets out a deep laugh, “No need to wait now. Get yourself all cozy.”

You slip underneath the blanket and Whiskey hands you the bowl of popcorn. He then slides in, making sure there was enough space between the two of you. Whiskey moved the bowl of popcorn between you two. He then grabbed the remote.

“Now,” Whiskey looked down at you, “What should I expect in this movie?”

“That would be spoiling it for you!” You playfully slap his shoulder, “Let’s just watch it.”

“Alright,” Whiskey smiled as he extended his arm behind your head.

Whiskey hit one button on the remote then sat it back down. The movie started, and Whiskey was hooked from the beginning. He loved the characters and the story right off the back. It reminded him of what him and his father would watch together when he was a kid.

After halfway into the movie, you scoot closer to Whiskey. His arm slowly came down from the back of the couch to your shoulder. He pulled you in closer and you laid your head on his chest. You could hear the fait beat of his heart. His hand would occasionally drift down to play with your hair. Whiskey leaned down and kissed your temple. You looked up at him, his brown eyes shining in the dim room.

“Now I’d love to finish the movie,” Whiskey hummed, “But I got someone here I gotta occupy.”

Whiskey lifted your chin up to kiss him. It was so soft; you couldn’t help but moan. Whiskey uses this to force his tongue in. You hummed as your arms wrap around his neck. Your hands tangle his soft hair. Whiskey stealthily moved the popcorn bowl out of the way. His hands drifted down your shoulders to your hip. Whiskey then lifted you up, causing you to yelp in surprise. Whiskey let out a small laugh as he sets you down on his thigh. You were straddling his thigh now, which caused Whiskey to smirk.

Whiskey leaned into you, his lips ghosting your ear, “I think I know what ya want, Sugar.”

Whiskey slowly moves your hips back and forth. He smirks as your mouth falls open. Your clothed core dragged against his clothed thigh just right. It hit your clit perfectly. You let out a whimper as Whiskey pushed his nose into your neck. He started to leave kisses along your neck and jaw. His moustache tickled your skin.

Whiskey hummed as you begin to grind harder down on his thigh. His hands drifted underneath your shirt. His tough skin felt like heaven against your smooth skin. He holds your chest before he squeezes. Your head shot up and you let out a moan. Whiskey pinches your nipples, causing you to shake in pleasure. One of Whiskey’s hands slinks down to your button on your pants.

“Can I, Darlin’?” Whiskey pleas, his brown eyes blown full of lust.

You nod your head, and Whiskey pushes you to lay your back on the couch. Quickly, he unbuttons your pants and slides them off. You kick your pants down onto the floor as Whiskey kisses up your thighs. He lightly nibbles on your thighs as he slowly moves closer to your core. Your underwear was already soaked. Whiskey nuzzled his face into your clothed core, inhaling the scent.

“Darlin’,” Whiskey begins to pull down your underwear, “You smell as sweet as a Georgia peach, wonder if ya taste like one.”

Whiskey gets your underwear down to your ankles and you kick them off. He licks a stripe from your entrance up to your clit. You moan out at the sudden hot feeling of his tongue exploring your folds. The obscene sucking sounds just made you beg for more. Whiskey takes two of his fingers and begins to thrust in and out. His fingers were larger than your own, so he was already stretching you out more than normal. You moan out his name as he hits that sweet spot within you. He begins to hit that spot over and over again. Your hands tangle in his smooth hair, and you lightly pull him to be closer to your core.

Whiskey lets out a groan and it sends shockwaves through you. You begin to moan his name out again. Your legs start to shake, your close. Whiskey pulls back and slaps your pussy, causing you to yelp in pleasure. He then sucked hard on your clit, pulling it between his teeth. That’s what you needed to get over the edge. As you came, Whiskey made sure not to waste a single drop. You had to pull him off of you. Whiskey’s moustache and lips were covered in your cum. He crawled up and kissed you. You moaned as you tasted yourself on his lips.

“I was right,” Whiskey smirked, “You do taste like a Georgia peach.”

You can’t help but laugh. Whiskey smiled as he pulled you close.

“Can’t believe you like an old man like me.” Whiskey huffs.

“You’re not old!” You hold his face, “You’re finely aged.”

Whiskey chuckles. He reaches down for your underwear and pants. You slowly put them back on. The movie was over, back on the DVD menu. You had to leave, return your dad’s car, but you wanted to stay the night with Whiskey. He understood why you couldn’t stay, so you two held each other close until the sun went down. Kisses were exchanged and promises of more dates to come.

Dividers by saradika

#my fics #fanfiction #fanfic #lemon #neighbor au #neighbor!whiskey #howdy neighbor!#agent whiskey #jack daniels #afab!reader #afab reader #agent whiskey/reader #agent whiskey x reader #jack daniels/reader #jack daniels x reader #kingsman the golden circle #pedro pascal fanfiction

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butcheranons · 4 years ago

Text

Bad Influence

summary: You love Bad more than anything else; well, maybe not as much as The Egg, but he’s up there.

Unbeknownst to you, he hides his true nature with the kindest human eyes you’d ever seen.

word count: 2.8k

A/N: this was once a drabble 👍 👍 (no beta we die like wilbur)

warnings: unprotected sex, somewhat exhibitionism (if you count the egg as a voyeur), overstimulation, breeding kink if you squint, too many pet names.

anatomy: gender neutral

“Bit higher," You raise your hands along with your words, guiding the two men holding the decorative banner. “Perfect.“

“Where do these chairs go?” Turning your head at the new voice, you frown at the state of the furniture.

“What are these?”

“Dinner chairs.”

“They sure don’t like the ones I ordered.”

“What? They’re exactly as you requested, black dining chairs with red cushioning.”

“Red?!” You scoff, “I ordered black iron with crimson cushions! This is cherry! What are we? A picnic?!” You roll your eyes.

“C’mon, no one will notice the difference, just take these we have a lot of work to do.”

Your neck snaps at the sound, raised eyebrows as you hum, expecting him to say something else, but alas, he doubled down.

"I said: Just take em', we have five other deliveries today."

"What?!" There's this little pang of annoyance that sets on your nape, leaving your muscles sore at the thought of having to deal with lazy workers. "I have paid upfront."

He rolls his eyes.

"You insolent little thing..." Gritting your teeth, you look around before stepping forward, "Take these back or you and your bosses will hear from me. I will not let this pass. How dare you?!"

"Man... Why do you have to complicate, it's already paid for, just fuckin' take it."

"Language...!"

You hear a chime from behind and your shoulders relax, turning around there's this heat that creeps up your body when your eyes meet his.

"What's wrong, my little muffin?" His hands wrap around your waist, pulling you into his chest and letting his warmth envelop your body. He never failed to surprise you with how warm he was; constantly.

"Oh, sugar bear," You whine, tangling your fingers into his. "This is the end of the world! I asked for black iron with crimson cushioning and look at this disaster!"

He nods, a bit confused, trying to differentiate between the shades, but feeling your upsetness. "Cupcake, why don't you go manage the catering samples while I sort this out? I'm sure you will love the red velvet cake, I sure did!"

A wide smile breaks out on your lips, you give him a kiss on the cheek before running off to the kitchen, nothing but sweet red velvet cake and cherry pies on your mind. Welcomed by the scent of whipped cream and lemonade you're carried by your stomach to the caterer holding the delicacies.

Your tasting is interrupted by the loud banging of metal outside and you consider scolding your lazy workers, but give your attention to the cake samples instead.

You're sampling the chocolate red velvet with cherry frosting when Bad bursts through the doors, wiping his face with the crimson handkerchief you'd gifted him last anniversary. A sweet smile fills your face, "Honeypie, try this one!"

When his eyes meet yours, your heart fills with a sugary coating that seeps through your veins and directly into your brain, "I've had my filling, which one is your favourite?"

Humming, you let your body rest against his, "Mhm... Chocolate is the best, by far... But lemon is so good!"

"You've got a little bit of whipped cream..." His whispers are hot against your lips before he captures them, tongue flicking across the corners and to your cheek.

The heat in your body is noticeable.

"Thanks..."

"Mhm... This one is the best."

You giggle, slapping his chest, "You're so corny–"

"Only for you, my little blueberry muffin."

When the workers leave, the hall is a dazzling ruby tone all over, the vines seem to almost glow in pride, cascading from the ceiling like a blood waterfall. You wade through the floor they carefully polished, carpet over the dining room muffling your steps.

"Oh, it's perfect, honey bun!"

Bad gleams in joy, rushing to your side, admiring you almost as much as he adores the vines. "I was worried they wouldn't make it in time, but it's perfect."

"What about the mechanisms?"

"Ah, yes, Ant did a great job, come, look..." He holds your hand, pulling you through the hallway leading to the the egg. "We'll have them step right here," pointing to a large tile on the ground, he pulls a lever, which quickly raises it about two feet above your head. "And then it's just, wack!" His hands swing around in an attack motion and you smile.

Your heart palpitates at the thoughts of watching the sacrifice, having the best seat. From the raised position, the blood would splatter all over the watchers, a cloud of beautiful crimson falling at their heads.

"Oh...my almond cookie, this is beautiful! The Egg will be so proud!"

Bad chuckles at your praise, letting himself blush. He pulls the lever to lower back the platform as to leave everything in place.

You take a step forward, the heels of your shoes announce your movement. Standing at the centre, you face the egg, an unnatural warmth fills your chest. You pull at your blouse to appease your brain, though you know it wouldn't help. When your eyes meet Bad's, you can see his breath hitch, he makes it out as a cough.

"Join me, sugar bear!" You reach out your arms, eyes reflecting the red of everything around you.

Bad doesn't hesitate to follow your orders, pulling the lever and running across to catch the platform as it rises above the ground. You catch him in your arms, hands gliding across his chest and nape, he shivers under your touch.

"Do you want to give The Egg a show, muffin?'

Your pulse is so fast you believe anyone would be able to hear it, human or not. "Yes..." You nod, voice too breathless for the lack of action. The smile that catches his lips is almost demonic, and your chest craves him. His hands tease at your chest and you melt into his touch, "Please..."

"If you ask so nicely..." His whispers fall deaf in your ears but cut deep into your skin, burrowing in goosebumps along your body. "...Then I can't refuse."

When your lips meet his, it's sweet.

Sweeter than anything else you could ever wish for and you want to get lost in his kisses.

He holds you gently, but below the delicate fingers, there's this firmness that makes your heart stop. You know no one else could ever pry you off his arms and you're not opposed to the idea of being with him, on him 24/7.

Tongue exploring your mouth, you moan, hands occupied with fistfuls of his white dress shirt. You tug at the golden buttons, wanting nothing but to feel his chest on yours, let his body heat consume you and lull you into comfort.

"Do you trust me, muffin?"

You nod, your eyes glazed in lust can barely focus on his at this point. Bad smiles, placing a kiss on your forehead, he inhales your taste, your scent, your everything.

And then, he pushes you off the platform.

You feel the way your heart immediately jumps at the sight of danger, there's this cold that pools in your stomach and runs through your body, lowering your body temperature.

And before you know, you... fall?

But you don't meet the ground.

When you open your eyes, you're met with the under view of Bad's prideful grin. The vines around your arms feel hot, too hot. But they lift you up until you're in his reach again.

"Hi..." You breathe out, your heart still too unsettled to spot pounding in your chest.

You thought you'd die, or at least, get badly injured. Not that you didn't trust him, but maybe he made some errors in his calculations.

But then, again, if he wished for you to fall without the vines this time, you probably would.

And Bad pulls you in his arms, nose brushing against yours and you wonder how would ever doubt your little muffin?

"Did I scare you too much?" He caresses your cheeks, brushing your hair away from your face with so much adoration in his eyes you feel like a deity.

"No... just a little jumpscare."

He chuckles, kissing your nose softly, "Good."

You smile, wrapping your arms around his neck, letting his body flush against yours and fit you so perfectly. But you know you wish for a little bit more; after so much adrenaline, you feel some little... cravings.

And as if he read your mind, his hands wander your body, reaching for your waist with a little bit more force than usual. His fingers have no difficulty taking care of your belt or pants, he picked them out, anyway.

You let yourself loose in his kisses, your own fingers lost in his hair, pulling around the corners you know he likes a bit too much just so you get to hear his sugary moans. You devour each and every noise that escapes his throat.

Before you know, he’s got you in just your underwear. His lips leave yours for a second to take your hand and spin you around.

You don’t let go of the glisten in his eyes as he looks you up and down, tongue grazing over his lips hungrily. He could eat you up and it’d never be enough. No time with you would ever be enough.

Bad spins you just enough so now you’re facing the egg once again, back pressed tightly to his chest. His breathing bounces off your neck, making you swallow dry, hands nervous down your sides, wanting to touch him and feel him up—

“Look at how pretty you are, my little peanut,” His tongue glides along your cheek to reach your earlobe. “The Egg is so pleased with how beautiful you are... Let’s show your even prettier faces, should we?”

You nod, melting into his arms as his hands graze along your body; from your chest to your waist to your hips. His long fingers play with the band of your underwear, torturing you just so he can have the little whines that escape your throat unconsciously. When you reach behind your shoulder to pull and tangle his hair he chuckles along your skin.

His fingers are on you, skilfully reaching for the most sensitives places of your body. And you arch into his touch, leaving your neck fully exposed for him to nibble and suckle.

Your skin, otherwise perfect, is blemished with the traces of him.

Your lips crash against his, this time, more passionate than ever, all while his fingers don't lose their pace.

You're near your climax, your stomach churning around his fingers but it's worthless coming if it's not on him.

"Bad... Pudding, I need you..." It's a needy half-moan.

"Tell me the magic word, bombon..." His lips graze along your shoulder and you know, you feel it in your back how much he needs you, too. His face is completely flushed, the heat spread across his cheeks only rival your own heat, throbbing and needy.

"Please, baby, please... Give me–.... Please, I need you. Fuck me–"

The lustful smirk that takes over is by far not of his nature but you were his little bad influence.

"Mhmm..." Bad sings along your skin, one hand placed over your stomach and another on your shoulder blades.

He bends you over, the vines quickly tightening their grip over your arms; letting you hang as if you were laying down. While busy with his buckle and pants, he let his eyes fuck you over and over, the way your back looks to him, the faint red glow that touches your skin; You turn your head around and there's this lust, this yearning that grows on your belly.

Because Bad's otherwise kind, honey-brown eyes have now turned a devilish crimson.

His hands are rough when they pull off his pants, soon, coming around his cock, rock-solid and bright red. You wrongly assumed it might have been the redness of the room bouncing off his pale skin. There's a part of your brain that believes he's even bigger than you remembered though you chuck it to the amount of time it has been since your last.

You watch the inhuman amount of precum that drips from his glande and over his fingers, your mouth watering, tongue unconsciously running over your lips. Your reaction makes him chuckle.

Positioning himself at your entrance, his other hand leaves marks across your hips, holding you more firmly than he'd ever had. Not that you were complaining.

The tip goes in effortlessly, leaving behind this stretch that fills every particle of your being and clouds your thoughts with the ache of his cock. You hear him hiss, hands curling around your skin, leaving fingerprints all over. You're sure you will be admiring them tomorrow.

"So tight–" He hisses once again, "So, so tight– Just for me..."

Your eyes are rolling around in their sockets when he finally bottoms out, seemingly infinite in your canal. His fingers drag along your spine, ever so kindly letting you adjust before moving, even if his instincts are begging him otherwise.

When the expansion settles, you're unknowingly rolling your hips toward his, the grip of the vines making it harder to take control. But he lets ouch a soft chuckle, an adoring look sweeps his eyes for a second, so proud of your boldness. You were always a go-getter.

He is painfully slow, taking in every second of it, hitting your walls with a determination that makes you moan out incoherent strings of what you believed were words.

The sounds that erupt from his throat are feral and inhuman by nature, settling in every inch of your bones and activating your flight or flee instincts. You wondered if the third instinct was fuck.

Your chest dips down, the vines now holding your arms above your head while Bad's grip on your hips don't falter, instead, the new angle allowing him to speed up his thrusts; not losing any of the strength. Your brain is filled only by him and how amazing he feels in you.

He moans your name along with praises of how well you're taking him and you wonder just how in the world could he make such a sinful sequence of words sound so heavenly. Alas, you don't give much thought, your brain once again being quickly clouded with his cock and only his cock.

Bad pulls your waist, letting your back meet his chest. This position only heightens every touch of his, you’re so close, so warm, so good...

"The Egg isn't liking how quiet you are, sugar plum..."

You smile, stuck between watching the hypnotic crimson and the eyes of your adoring lover that swallows your moans.

His name leaves your lips like a prayer,

You will show The Egg how good Bad is to you.

"Bad, honey– Uh– I'm–"

"I know, muffin," His whispers are a caress along your ears, lulling you into your release.

You scream his name, the moans bouncing off the spongy walls of the cave and returning to your ears, you feel the way his grip tightens around your hips, the way you're milking him doesn't help how hard he's trying to hold back, prolong his time with you as much as he can.

"You're so good for me, just one more, babycakes..."

Every inch of your skin feels hot to the touch, even more than before. It's like you're on fire and freezing cold at the same time, each part that touches his body is a million times more sensitive. You feel each and every millimetre of his moves, the pleasure echoing around your body in waves.

"I don't know if I can." You shake your head, barely being able to think at this point, overwhelmed by the pleasure.

"Shh... You can, you're so good for me... So tight... You take me so well."

"Fill me up, pumpkin... Please, fill me up to the brim, let me feel you–", you moan, "–Fill me up so much I'm dripppin'!"

Oh, your Bad was too good for you.

His words are what tip you over the edge, getting him to catch his own climax. His hands don't leave your body, his lips coming to kiss all over your neck and jaw.

You melt into his touch, the vines releasing your arms and legs so you can collapse into him. He catches your body, coming to a sit and letting you sprawl over his chest, your hands reaching out to caress his hair.

"My little naughty cookie, if you spill one drop I'll have to fill you all over again..."

You giggle into his kisses, "Oh, no!" you exclaim sarcastically, giggling in between your words. He laughs, kissing your cheeks and forehead and everywhere he can get his lips on. Because you deserve so much, heavens, you're just perfect and you take him so well and you were made for him–

You feel loved.

You watch the glow of the vines brighten for a second and you both hum knowingly.

The Egg has been fed.

After all, there is a reason why orgasms were called "The little death."

#c: badboyhalo #mcyt smut #k: breeding #k: exhibitionism #k: overstimulation #the egg is packing #canonically besties its packing

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insufferablelust · 4 years ago

Note

Hi!! I have a fic request if you’re still taking them. Reader has always been really flirtatious with spencer but he’s never taken it seriously because she’s younger than him. Reader calls spencer daddy or sir kind of jokingly but spencer get’s really turned on. This would be post-prison so he won’t hold back. He’s all like you don’t know who you’re playing with😡 you act so tough but can’t even take it !! And she is obviously exited and her bratty ass eggs him on.

Holy shit, this fic is 3,7k words long and i’m so proud of it like fuck, i’m so tempted on making a series based on this cause i got the plot line figured out, tell me if you would like a sequel or continuation of this because honestly i have some ideas gshsj! anyway its filthy.

Warnings : Dom!Spencer x Sub!Reader, post prison spencer, filthy smut, rough sex, daddy kink, rough spencer, pain kink, masochism, spit play, pet names (bunny, little girl, princess etc), big age gap (but reader is NOT UNDER AGE/A MINOR), degradation by name calling, slight exhibitionism, just filthy rough smut with fluffy after care! please read at your own risk.

MASTERLIST.

——————

If there’s one word that could describe your relationship with Spencer Reid, that would be playful. Playful as in you’ll try to be flirtatious just to watch the deep pink warmth spreading over the doctor’s cheeks. You always considered yourself to be playful maybe it was fitting for your age seeing that you both have a pretty noticeable age gap but, anyone who knows you would know that too.

It started as a small competition between the two of you, finding each other’s quirks and similarities just for the sake of teasing and taunting each other— enjoying your effects on one another. But for you, it was so much more, despite being playful you’re also prone to falling in love quickly, even more so when it’s someone like Spencer Reid; how could you not? from the way his lip twitched whenever he’s thinking, or the way his demeanor changes whenever he interrogated an unsub, or just how he simply himself. You are falling for Spencer Reid, and you’re falling hard.

Imagine your surprise after a couple of drinks at the bar with your teammates, that you let it slip, of course it was mainly the buzz talking, but you know what they said about a drunk man who tells the tell tale truth. The moment you let the seemingly innocent word past your lip, your drunken haze could see how his jaw twitched, feel how his breathing changed, and most definitely, feeling the tension grew thicker and thicker— excitement and nervousness seeped into your skin that has you writhing inside.

“I’m sure you knew that much, given your age, daddy.”

You swear you didn’t do it on purpose, it was just one of those slip ups that for you, coincidentally saying daddy in front of someone you— not only admire but have a major crush on, and for sure would call daddy, if you were together. But you weren’t, you both were only teammates, and flirtatious friends that somehow ended up in this awkward yet exciting situation because your mouth couldn’t let your fuzzy brain to think it through.

“Oh, god. I’m really really sorry i was just— i was truly just indicating that.. that you know! um i think i’ve had too much drinks tonight— maybe i should find em-“ before you could finish your messy apology and an excuse to find Emily, you felt the tender burning sensation across your throat.

It was his palm, pressed ever so delicately yet alarmingly on your throat, his thumb grazing along your pulse as if its telling you to stop talking or he will press against your windpipe. Your surroundings became blurry as you focused on the only thing that matters; him. His breath so close to you, his warmth electrocuted your veins, and his touch— god his touch on your throat burns and melts you.

“Shut up for once, little girl. Have you got any idea how much trouble this pretty lips of yours would get you?”

His voice was venomous as it rang up your ears, spreading over your core like you were an open flame to sacrifice. You tried to speak, tried to reply with a snarky reply or something to save your dignity, but the only thing your mouth could let out was a, “sorry..” that caused him to chuckle with amusement, gripping your jaw tightly,

“I think you’re missing something there,” He whispered lowly, eyes sharp on yours. You shuddered at the gesture, feeling your knees buckled as you answered; voice barely a whisper, “Sorry, daddy.”

“What was that, bunny? didn’t quite catch that.” He pressed his thumb tighter on your skin that were sure would leave some nice deep purplish marks. So you replied louder, though your voice were shaky and pathetic, “Sorry, daddy!” earning yourself a soft graze across your lips and a hum from Spencer.

“I would say that you’re a good girl but you aren’t, aren’t you?” He tilted your chin then, making sure your eyes locked with his as he scoffed, “No, you’ve been so bratty. Teasing me, all this time huh? thinking you could just push every button? slutty minx like you get nothing.”

You let out an obscenely loud mewl, and stomp your feet, causing him to growl possessively against your neck, biting the soft skin lightly, “Quiet, you want the team to know how insatiable you are?” He grunts, the back of his palm went to slap your cheek softly causing you to gasp, “No, daddy.”

“Good. Now, go tell Emily that you’re coming home with me.” He patted your reddened cheeks before tilting his head.

———

the drive back to your place had been quiet, you were too nervous and buzzed to say anything, and he was enjoying it— the way you squirmed in anticipation and the way you keep stealing glances at him.

You jumped suddenly when you feel the electrifying warmth on your thigh, noticing that it was in fact Spencer’s palm gripping the soft supple skin, tender whimpers escaped your lips as you feel his fingers crept up your thighs slowly up and down.

“Choose a word,” He said simply, eyes stilled on the road ahead as his palm knead the inside of your thigh, leaving crescent marks at it’s wake. “What? i-Oh! don’t understand..” You whined as you feel his fingers grazing against your panties.

“For your safe-word pet, choose a word, or i swear to god i will do more than just making your ass purple, i’ll make sure you can’t walk.”

———

The word you chose was lilac, having no idea your favorite shade of purple could mean so much to you now.

After the tense 20 minute drive, you both arrived at your place, you were almost fully sober then left for the lingering buzz behind your neck that might just be from the fact that you were turned on. The way your fingers trembled as you tried to open your front door sets the idea of just how nervous you are, especially with Spencer’s looming figure behind you, watching your every move— imprinting them inside his mind with his touch ghosting above your skin as if he’s dancing on top of them.

When you finally get the door open, you let out a deep breath and let him in muttering a small, “welcome to my palace!” jokingly. Yet, when you looked behind you, you could see just how mad he was but most importantly— just how much he wanted to hurt you in the most pleasurable way, pleasure through pain. His curls were all over the place, his lip half bitten, and his eyes, god his eyes could tell you just about everything that was racing on his mind.

You noticed it of course, before all of this, right when he got out of prison, you’ve noticed it clearly. Something inside him shifted, something more primal rather than the fact that he becomes way more bold yet private at the same time. Maybe it was because you were the only one who paid that much attention, but you could just see how much he wanted to take control in every situation he was in.

Spencer before prison was a very complicated man yet he was also someone who wouldn’t mind not being in control, he wasn’t your typical alpha male if you could put it that way— and that’s one of the things you love about him, its the fact that he’s not scared to be himself and show his vulnerability at times. But Spencer Reid after prison, is someone you hadn’t expected to meet, the moment he hugged you first; the moment he snapped at everyone for not taking him seriously about a case; the moment he took down an entire mission by himself; the moment he does everything screamed one thing to you, and that is yearning for control.

You couldn’t say you could possibly understand the horror that the prison imprinted on him, but you could understand just how much it affected his need over power— over owning something, over the situation, over someone. And if he needs to own you tonight, then you would willingly give your soul and body to him.

Y/N took a deep breath as his tucked hands reached to grasp her soft neck, already covered in small red marks from earlier ministrations. He hummed at the sight, somewhat pleased, but somewhat disappointed. Disappointed that it’s not deep enough to noticed from the end of the room. Then, his eyes met yours— sending shocking waves of heat inside your body that surely had you clenching your thighs tightly.

“You’ve been so...careless, so out of your place, pet.” He muttered, tracing his thumb just above your pulse up to your jaw and up your blushing cheeks, “I’ve tried so hard to.. hold back, hold back every time you acted like a brat, every time you teased me, you must thought you were so cute huh?” His grip got tighter then, shoving you backwards towards your bed, before releasing your jaw almost in an attempt to not push himself further— he hesitated.

“You surely know better don’t you, bunny? know better than to just carelessly... make a prey out of yourself.” His thumb graze over your bottom lip, tracing side to side slowly as he chuckles, “But i see now that my cute fierce little coworker, is not as innocent as she seemed.” He mused, lips twitched in endearment as he watched you suckle on the tip of his thumb.

“You got everyone fooled by your charming witty self, believing just how bright and good you are. But not me, i’ve seen through your acts pet, i’ve seen just how much you wanted me to just...take control of you, to own you, to.. hurt you just how you like it, isn’t that right bunny?”

You whined through your lips, sucking harder on his thumb with your hands gripping wrist. You were so dazed out, fuzzy with need, and turned on beyond belief that you fluttered your eyes shut, afraid that if you looked at his eyes one more time, you would lit on fire. But like he said, he always sees right through you, he pulled your hair back with his unoccupied hands causing you to gasp- mouth agape and eyes trained to his.

Spencer could swear that he felt his palm twitched at the sight of your face, the desperation dripping from you metaphorically and literally, the hand that was on your jaw moved to your cheeks, caressing the soft skin before suddenly you felt it. Felt the burning sensation of his palm on your cheeks, the pain arouses you to no end, and the aftershock made you moan, out loud.

“Please...” were the only thing that you could let out as you craved for more, you craved him just as much as he craved you, you could care less about the marks— you loved it even and you know now that he loves it too.

Spencer inhaled sharply at her plea before dangerously pressing their foreheads together and warned, “If i start, best believe i’m not going to go easy on you, not a chance. I’m a changed man Y/N, i won’t be gentle, and i definitely will hurt you, you have your safe word but if you don’t want this, or you expected me to go soft, say the word and i’ll leave and we can pretend that this doesn’t happen—“

“I want this..” Your broken voice rang through his ears like music, it was so heavenly that he closed his eyes for awhile as if to made sure that this isn’t a dream, that the woman he love yet been desperately trying to be away from because he was scared to hurt her, is here asking him to.. own her.

“Say it again.” He growled, hands coming back down to her neck as he pushed her down onto the bed, “Please.. daddy, own me, hurt me, fuck me, i don’t care! just do something!”

“Put your hands up, don’t move if you move them even an inch, i won’t let you cum tonight.” He grunted against the skin of your neck, teeth sinking onto them— marking you up in various different spots. He then trail down his kissed to the juncture of your collarbones, fingers trailing down to take off your dress.

You squirmed at the sight of him practically drooling over the image that is your wonderful body, his hand caressed the taunt covered nipples before tugging your bra off and immediately sucking onto one of the sensitive buds, and pinch and twirl the other one.

The mewls and whimpers that left your mouth was lewd and loud, getting louder with each lick and suck he delivered, sending thousands of electric shock-like waves through your veins, you let out a trail of uh’s as Spencer tug your panties down and stared up at you.

“Pretty baby just wants to get fucked, ‘s a shame that you’ve been a bad girl, would’ve wanted to eat you out for hours but i have to punish you now instead.” He mumbled, with an exaggerated sigh, mocking you in his tone, leaving you desperate and soaked through the sheets at the thought of him eating you out. “But-“

“Shh, bratty whores aren’t allowed to talk. so shut up and bend over my lap.” He growled, ending his sentence with a slap to your delicate wet pussy— earning a loud yelp from you as you scrambled to your feet and bent over his lap on the edge of the bed.

“How many do you think you deserve, baby?” The names he called you warmed your heart, you’ve been under his spell long enough to know that this is a trick question, no- you can’t say the exact numbers, the only correct answer is, “As many as you think i deserve, daddy.” He smiled at your obedience, whispering a “good girl” as he caressed your ass. Daddy always knows better after all.

Then you felt it, the first slap felt like fire against your skin, you yelped out a loud mewl as he growled, “Count.” So you did, letting out the shaky numbers as his hand collided with the soft supple skin of your ass cheeks— bruising them on his wake. “T-Ten! god daddy!” You screamed, thigh clenching, cunt fluttering around nothing, and your hands gripped the sheets on for dear life.

“Oh don’t whine now, you asked me to hurt you remember? i’m just giving you what you want little girl.” He chuckled, each words that left his mouth made you even wetter. His palm came down again and again, marking each and every untainted skin of your bum, painting them with his handprints and his crescent nail indents. Your ass was definitely on fire, tears streaming down your face in pleasure and pain, you were dripping down your thighs as Spencer delivered the final slap.

“Twenty! please daddy! i’m sorry!” you cried out, feeling his palm caressing your skin as he coo’d at you, “What are you sorry for bunny... is it for being a slut? for teasing me all this time? for being a damn brat? for being reckless on that mission last week? hm which one is it?” He taunted, bringing more tears to your eyes, lips quivering as you answer him shakily, “All daddy! i’m sorry for being bad! please!”

“Apology can only get you so far, lay on the bed, and spread your leg. I’ll ruin you so next time you want to get under daddy’s skin, you’ll know what happens to slutty bratty whores like you.”

——

You were spread out, hands above your head, tied with his tie, and there he was between you, slowly rubbing your swollen clit trailing your wetness all over your folds. He had taken off his clothes, on his knees bare in front of you with his— beautiful cock, you have no idea one could be so pretty and perfect yet there he is.

His thumb move faster on your clit causing you to buck up against his touches, mouth agape as the lewd sounds kept on spilling from your mouth, he slapped your clit when you bucked your hips again, causing you to gasp in shock and pleasure, “Stop being a greedy, minx.” He muttered lowly, before continuing his ministrations, your moans only grew louder with soft uh’s and “daddy!’s”

Spencer couldn’t even hold himself back, feeling the urge to just take you then and there because you’re here, fucking perfect and spread out for him. Like a damn peach ripe for the taking, your moans was music to his ears, fueling his need— his ego satisfaction as he sped up, “Open your mouth.” he demanded, and you obeyed so happily and eagerly, awaiting for anything he was about to do.

You couldn’t believe yourself when you felt it at first, feeling the warmth of his saliva down your throat as one of his unoccupied hand gripped your waist tightly and pushed himself inside you— letting you feel every veins and the stretch of his cock— pulsing with need.

“Fuck! oh fuck daddy!” You screamed out loud, your breathing as labored as his, you could feel how deep his cock was seated inside you, nudging the soft spongy spot that has you seeing stars, that has you tightening your walls around his length, causing him to let out a deep guttural groan, “Fuck Y/N, so fucking perfect and tight.”

“Please harder daddy!” You begged him, eyes doe like with tears as you looked up to him and egging him on some more, “Please ruin me, Spencer.”

“You want harder? fine i’ll give you harder.” At that, he gripped your waist tightly before pounding inside you relentlessly, each thrust overpowering your whole being, making the room grew smaller as the both of you relinquished the feeling you have for each other.

“Yes! yes yes! o-oh!” Your moans were choked out this time, as his hand went from gripping your waist to gripping your neck tightly, pounding your cunt over and over again, with double the pace and intensity each time harder. “Feel so fucking good, bunny.” The praise that left his mouth only fuels you up, clenching your walls tightly as he let out string of curses and your name.

“Look at me,” He ordered, yet you whined instead, not having the ability to open your eyes. Spencer slowed his pace down as he gripped your jaw and slap your cheek one time causing you to gasp, “Look at me, Y/N. I want you to look at me as you cum, i want you to scream my name when you do, cause i own you. You hear me? you’re mine.” He growled, the words that left his lips sending electrifying feelings on your heart and of course your cunt, pulsing around his cock.

“Yes yes yes! i’m yours Spencer all yours!” You were in commando as you spew out everything you’ve been holding onto for the past few months, “please show me i’m yours.”

Spencer sees red flashes across his eyes, his primal need to mark you and to make you his overshadowed everything, so he picked up the pace again and thrust in and out of your pussy with brutal pace, “Good slut, that’s it my good little girl you are— fuck!” He grunted as he feel you tightening around him, knowing damn well you were about to cum.

“Don’t you dare cum without my permission.” He warned dangerously as you looked up at him tearily, his hands tightening their grip on your waist and neck as he went faster, “D-Daddy! May i- oh uh! cum please!” He chuckled darkly as he faux a pout, leaning closer so your noses brush, “No. Bratty girls waits for their daddy to cum first.” He rasped suddenly, as he drilled his cock inside you and his thumb was on your clit.

This is torture, and you loved every bit of it.

“N-No! can’t hold it! daddy please!” Your were squirming, arms tugging against the tie, as he moaned out loud, feeling himself getting closer and closer to his climax, “Please daddy! Inside me!” You moaned loudly, holding onto your own orgasm as tightly as possible.

“Fucking- fuck! Y/N fuck, cum now.” His commands were deep guttural and shaky as he reach his high, still thrusting inside you with his thumb on your clit. You followed shortly after, feeling the wall burst and you came with a silent scream and toe curling hardest orgasm you’ve ever felt.

Spencer’s controlled his breathing rather quickly, whilst you still squirming and panted under him. He quickly untied your arms kissing your bruised wrist softly before letting it fall beside you. “Shh so good, such a good girl.” He keeps on whispering as you’ were coming down from your high, fingers clutching to his arm.

“D-Don’t leave..” You mumbled weakly, feeling the fuzziness inside your head as he pulled out, and watched the mixture of you and him slip past your wall. “No princess, i’m going to go grab a wet cloth so i can wipe both of us and then we can get some rest okay..?” You mumbled a silent okay, before he leaned down to softly kiss your lips and then goes to grab the cloth.

When he comes back, the first thing he did was cleaning you up, your skin tingles at the gentle touch of the cloth and him— mainly him, you hummed happily as he sat the bucket of water down after he cleaned himself and then grabbing a water bottle.

“Come love tilt your head— there you go pretty girl.” He cooed, as you took sip a few sip before laying back down. He goes to take some sips too, then proceed to laid next to you, and pressing your body close to him, fingers playing with your hair.

“Spencer..” You mumbled tiredly, using the rest of your energy to look up at him and smile, which he returned and mumbled a small, “hm?” whilst playing with your hair gently.

“I have a crush on you..” You weren’t sure whether you were orgasm drunk or whatever but it just feels right to say it— so you said it.

“I know, and i..” He chuckled in shyness, something you used to see on pre prison Reid, your heart flutters when you saw him smile and became nervous.

“I feel the same way.” He continued, making sure he holds you tight and kissed your forehead gently, “We’ll talk about it over coffee and croissants tomorrow okay? for now lets just sleep first.” He smiled gently, pulling the covers on top of the both of you.

“Good night, spencer.”

“Night, Princess.”

—————

Although, cute the ending still kinda suck lmao. Anyways, again if you want a continuation of this fic, or me possibly making it into a series, please let me know!

#insufferableblurb #criminal minds smut #dom!spencer #spencer reid smut #spencer x reader #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fluff

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mintjamsblog · 3 years ago

Note

Does Alfie ever demand that Tommy calls him Sir?

Okay, this is so late, (I'm sorry, I have sat on this answer for literally weeks). It also answers another ask I seem to have lost/deleted, which simply said 'sub-drop?' So, here you go, it turned into 1600 words of smut, I'm afraid. (Set in my Mistakes AU, but can be read without that background).

Subdrop

"How many fingers Tommy?"

Tommy lifts his head but it drops back immediately.

"Tommy, love, how many fingers am I holding up?"

"Ten," Tommy says, without even looking. "Everyone has ten."

"Alright, love, up we come."

It's no wonder, really, Alfie has toyed with him mercilessly for — he checks his watch — fuck, well over two hours, has brought him to the brink of orgasm over and over again, watched his face flush and his thighs tremble and his stomach contract in anticipation of the release he's repeatedly been denied.

Tommy's so fucking pretty when he lets himself go (when he's made to let go) and Alfie, well, he's always been a sucker for pretty things, ain't he? Beautiful things.

Tommy finds it so hard to relax that once Alfie gets him loose, persuades him into handcuffs or a spreader-bar or, immobilises him somehow, his inclination is to make the most of the situation, to wring him out like a wet towel, count every last drop of resistance as it splashes onto the floor — a puddle to be licked up and savoured (metaphorically speaking, of course, there's no way Tommy's licking anything off any floors with his arms and legs fastened securely to the straps of a leather sling).

The silly boy still approaches these scenes as if they're a test of his fortitude rather than a willing exchange of power and trust. And that's fine, mostly. A click of his fingers or a safeword could end it all, but Tommy'd far rather grit his teeth and pretend he don't want this at all. Alfie can allow that for a while, can give him something to bite down on until he's too far gone to care about giving a voice to his plight.

Usually it takes some impact to get Tommy to give up his sounds. He needs to be pushed past some physical threshold. A firm hand, a paddle, a whip — they each make him sing different notes, eventually, but always the same fuckin' undertone. Anger. Whether Tommy's angry at Alfie (likely) or at himself for needing this (even more likely) is neither here nor there. Tommy has plenty to be angry at; the world ain't always been kind to him and he's even less kind to himself.

But anger, well, it's corrosive innit? Useful when controlled, maybe, when mastered effectively and released into the world in small bursts that serve a purpose; to warn or threaten or reinforce the hierarchy. But not when it seethes in your blood, pumps through your heart and into each artery like slow-acting poison that seeps through veins and capillaries, reaches the tip of every extremity, hides beneath every thought. That sort of anger, the sort Tommy lives with, that anger needs to be let. Like blood.

Not that Alfie's some antiquated physician restoring balance to the humors. Nah, he fancies his particular form of therapy's far more effective, even if his tools are barely less crude than the old-timers' scalpels and leeches. Alfie prefers to mix things up, to intersperse the blows of a bullwhip with the soft, wet heat of his tongue; to lash Tommy with a folded belt, then hold his cock like a delicate creature he's trying to stroke back to life. He'll pinch and tease and whip and probe until Tommy rails and rages, fists balled, teeth bared, every muscle pulled taut as tension wire. Eventually he'll scream at Alfie, at himself, at the universe, then let the breath shudder out in increasingly shaky increments, like he's tumbling down the stairs.

The journey to that point is best travelled slow. Given time, Tommy's tight grunts and growls always soften into something looser, gentler, pain still evident in the pitch of his voice, but threaded through with desire and resignation and something else entirely ... an underlying need to give up or give in. To please, Alfie flatters himself.

That medley of sounds, the unwinding trajectory of 'em, awakens some possessive creature in Alfie. He can feel it uncoiling inside him, muscles sliding and flexing as he drives Tommy towards an apex neither of 'em can see — a pinnacle of endurance or restraint beyond which Tommy simply is. Or maybe isn't. Beyond which he is merely a consciousness, untethered from any worldly woes and oblivious to the sensations of his own flesh. Or perhaps oblivious to anything but the sensations of his own flesh. Either way, Alfie knows to watch when the sounds turn animalistic, when the groans are so low and feral that they peter out into breaths. Into nothing. Into rolled-back eyes and gaping mouth and climaxes so molten they look more like pain than pleasure.

"Come on love, that's it, down we come."

It's a struggle getting Tommy out of the sling, he's too exhausted to cooperate, to untangle his own limbs from the leather, so Alfie releases the two lower straps and pours him out like water. Like water he slips through Alfie's waiting arms and pools at his feet on the floor.

"Up you get," Alfie says, hoisting him under the arms, and up Tommy comes, unsteady but obedient in his altered state of mind. Alfie braces him for a moment, waits for Tommy's body to harden, for a flicker of conceit to return to those down-cast eyes. Now is when Tommy should swipe a hand down his face, curse under his breath and huff an almost laugh, a poor disguise for self-consciousness, but a sign he's aware at least.

But Tommy offers no such reassurance, regains none of the control that usually washes back as soon as he's up on his feet. He's deep, Alfie realises. Deeper than usual.

He whispers into Tommy's ear, small praises that have no place in any moment other than one such as this. His fingers run down Tommy's back, tracing small paths through sweat that's turned cold, an attempt to distract and reassure, but already he knows it's too late. He's left it too late. He can feel the distant vibrations and knows they'll soon take Tommy's legs.

By the time Alfie gets him onto the bed, onto his side, the trembling has tipped into shivering, a violent reflex that even the finest goose-down duvet fails to subdue. Alfie curses himself for missing the cues, for pushing Tommy too hard. "S'okay," he whispers, "you were beautiful."

But Tommy is straining against the hold, against Alfie's leg wrapped over his own. "I need ... I'm gonna be sick," he says, and throws himself into a sitting position with a violent retching sound. The purge that follows isn't from his stomach, it pours down his face in scalding tears that drench Alfie's waiting hands. Tommy throws his arm up and buries his eyes in the crook of his elbow, taking frightening gasps after every few breaths.

"Come on, now," Alfie says, entirely at a loss. Sure, he pushed Tommy hard tonight, but it seemed like what they both wanted. Needed. "Please, don't," he whispers, hands searching beneath Tommy's forearm to thumb away some of the tears. He wants to tell Tommy he doesn't mind, he can cry as much as he likes. Alfie don't see this as victory; Alfie's not him. But he says nothing, afraid of dredging up ghosts as he coaxes Tommy back down to the mattress, runs fingers through his hair, holds him tight against his chest and lets him cry himself out till the tap runs mercifully dry.

"Why?" Tommy says, eventually.

Fucks sake, why what? Why anything? Why do they do what they do to each other? Why does Tommy allow it? Allow Alfie to pull the meat from his preverbial bones? Alfie's asked himself the same question often enough. Not why does he do this, exactly, he's well past shame over that, but why did he get this lucky? Why does he get to do this with Tommy? To see what no one else sees? Why did he push him so hard tonight? Why did he think Tommy could take it?

"Why did you spend so long ... you know ..." Tommy sniffs, "when there's nothing in it for you?"

Alfie pulls Tommy out from his chest enough to look him in the eye. "Nothing in it for me? Are you fucking kidding me, Tommy?"

"You didn't even come," Tommy says.

At that, Alfie grabs Tommy's arm, fumbling to open the top button of his jeans and force Tommy's hand inside. "There," he says, in his sternest voice. "Nothing in it for me, hmm?"

"Oh!" Tommy says in surprise.

"Yeah, oh, you blithering idiot. Twice. No fuckin' hands."

He watches Tommy swallow, feels fingers flex through the undeniable evidence soaked right through Alfie's boxers.

"Why?" Tommy asks again.

"Why what Tommy? Why does God allow famine and pestilence? Why do good people die? Why didn't I meet you ten years ago, hmm?"

"Why did you fucking come?"

"Because you’re sexy as all burning hell, aren't you? Turn me on like a switch."

Tommy curls into him tighter, buries his face again, and it dawns on Alfie that he really and truly doesn't get it, does he?

"The first time, right, you wouldn't lay back." He keeps his voice low, strokes Tommy's perfect little ear. "I'd fingered you till you were leaking all over your stomach, all over the marks I'd left with the flogger. You should've been way past defiance by then, but you just kept trying to sit up ... your mouth hanging open, like you were trying to fuckin' kiss me." Tommy burrows further still. "So I slapped you," Alfie continues. Maybe that was a bit cruel. "And you only tried even harder. Lay your sinful tongue on your lower lip and strained up out of the sling." Alfie's hardening again at the recollection, at the way he'd thought Tommy was acting, playing the little minx, struggling to reach forward with his wrists and ankles bound to the straps above him. Only Tommy'd never appear so needy, not in his rightful mind, wouldn't chase Alfie's mouth like a newborn pup seeking out its mother's teet. And he'd gazed at Alfie through half-lidded eyes, in that way he had no right to do, like Alfie was the only face he knew in the entire unholy world, like Alfie could fuckin' save him, reach inside his body and take all the pain away, maybe, or make it ten times worse. Like whichever option Alfie chose Tommy'd fucking let 'im.

"And?" Tommy says, when Alfie falls silent. God, he really doesn’t remember, does he?

"And I leant down and kissed you, you silly boy. And I came in my pants, like a teenager."

Tommy makes a wet sound that could be a huff, or could just as easily be more tears.

"Weren't my fault," Alfie adds, defensively. "Your mouth was so fuckin' soft, despite what I'd done to you. And you. You mewled like a Siamese kitten..."

Tommy squeezes him, through his pants, seemingly soothed by the hard line he's holding, proof, perhaps, that Alfie is part of this.

"And the second time ... the second time ... fucking hell. Right at the very end. The last time you came. You looked so fucking fucked-out, love," Alfie's hands are roaming now, sliding over the marks he's left all over Tommy's skin. He seeks out the curve of Tommy's throat, presses kisses there. "All the fight gone out of you. Covered in sweat and welts and come, so exhausted you were trembling ... and please, you kept saying please." He cups the back of Tommy’s head, pulls him closer still. "And I didn't know what for. And I kept asking you, please, what, Tom? but you wouldn't answer. Couldn't, maybe. Too far gone to know." He bites gently on Tommy's ear, at the little crease where it joins his jaw, the tiniest sign of age on his otherwise youthful face.

Tommy's hand is working now, struggling to find its way beneath the fabric of Alfie's underwear. "Then what?" he breathes into Alfie's ear.

"And then you said please, Sir."

Tommy's hand stops dead at that.

"I ... I didn't--"

"S'alright, love, you were under, weren’t you? Too fuckin' deep to know." And there might be a tiny part of Alfie that wishes that weren't the case, that would like to hear that word on Tommy's lips again, but not at the risk of a drop. Hurts too much to see Tommy so upset.

He removes Tommy's hand from his trousers and laces their fingers together, pulls them up high enough he can kiss every sticky knuckle.

"You want me to clean you up, love? Tommy barely shakes his head; his fingers clench around Alfie's hip. "Okay, in a little while then."

Ain't right to feel so tender about being stuck to someone with come. To like the smell of their sweat so much you don't wanna wash it off. Hell, he'd sleep like this all night, in jeans and boots an'all, if it gives Tommy the reassurance he'll so surely claim he don't need.

#asks #anon #sub-drop #tommy x alfie #my fic #mistakes #tofie #tomfie #writing

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xxreader-writerxx · 4 years ago

Text

Study Buddy (Part 2 I guess)

Fred Weasley x Fem Reader

Warnings: Smut, NSFW, fingering, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex, exposition, and cursing.

Y/N= Your Name L/N= Your Last Name Y/H= Your House

You walk into where you and Fred usually meet, his dorm taking off your jacket still stressed from Hermione’s interrogation. You get shoved against the wall lightly, feeling his warm lips on yours. “Hi Freddie...” You giggle when he finally lets you go. “Hello darling...” He says while playing with your blouse buttons. “Woah woah woah… Where’s the work?” You ask, smiling goofily matching his smile and he moves over to show you his desk. You look at his papers which have close to chicken scratch writing all over it. He massages your hips standing behind you with his chin placed on your shoulder humming as he fights the urge to leave hickeys all over your neck.

“This problem is wrong.” You point out a few and he sighs. “Just the tie then? Or like halfway unbuttoned? Or cuddles?” He asks and you laugh nodding. “Fix the problems and we can cuddle.” You tell him and he nods turning faster than light to his papers. You watch as he bites his lip as he tries to correct them. He finally finishes and you nod smiling. “Perfect.” You tell him, kissing him quickly as you take off your shirt beneath his view. “What’s that for?” He asks, smiling. “You did finish your work. Just rewarding you.” You mumble going in for another kiss as you both lay down. As he wrapped his arms around you falling asleep quickly from his insane day of Quidditch you couldn’t help but remember how it all started.

---------------------------------------------------

I sit eating my favorite meal at the Gryffindor table laughing with my friends, Hermione, Ron, Harry, Lee, and Angelina. I’m in Lee and Angelina’s year but I never really made friends with anyone else in my year. Lee keeps trying to introduce me to the Weasley Twins every now and then but I either choke up last minute or get busy. The Weasley twins are the hottest people, and sadly the most troublesome, in our year. I can tell the two apart from a scar on Fred’s eyebrow but we’ve never truly met. I have classes with both but we haven’t talked. I’m the top of my year and I was always on time for class so me and them never really ran in the same circle. They rather prank and be wild. I love a good prank but I rather study.

I head to potions and the twins have already created havoc. The room was filled with a smoke and I realized it from the smell right away. I cover the bottom of my face with my sleeve running over to the cauldron which has a lot of already sleeping students next to it. I throw a lid on it and use a vacuuming spell to get rid of the leftover smoke quickly. I make a batch of the counter potion and put it in a spray bottle. I walk over to the first few students spraying it on them. I get to the end finally spraying the potion on Professor Snape. Everyone is awake and coughing. I go over to the culprits checking if they're ok. “Hi?” Fred says and I shush him checking for any lung harm. “That was dangerous.” I mumble and he nods rubbing his eyes. “George. George, wake up.” I say shaking the other twin. He pops his head up and looks at me quizzically. “H-How did you know who was who?” He asks, still groggy. “It's fairly obvious.” I mumble still in Healer Mode. “And who are you?” He asks as I move on to the next student. “Y/N L/N” I spit out and they nod. “I can handle this Y/N” Professor Snape instructs and I move so he can handle them.

“Now...” I say turning to the two boys. I slap their heads and they groan, rubbing their heads. “That was an idiotic thing to do. You are lucky I got here in time. If I didn’t that sleeping potion would make your lungs stop working and numbing your body. Let alone the others in the room. You better apologize and I will be writing to your mother.” I start to ramble but get cut off by Fred smirking. “You’re cute when you’re angry.” He says smiling and George nods. “Very kissable.” He agrees and I blush against my will. “Listen flattery won’t get you anywhere. Your mother Molly will be hearing of this.” I say and they whip their heads to see me. “Y-you know our mother?” George says now nervous. “Yes. I visit a lot you two are just too insane to notice.” I spit and they look at each other then me with their eyes squinted. “Oh my god- Y/N?! The no-boobs Y/N?! Well you certainly- Grew.” Fred says and I give him a death stare. “Sorry.” He mumbles and I nod.

I walk over to Snape and check his pulse and everything since he cannot do it himself. I nod curtly stepping away and he fixes his collar. “Good job Y/N/ 150 points to Y/H, 115 points from Gryffindor.” He reports and I nod going to my desk. Instead of my usual partner I get greeted by Fred who is smiling wildly. “Yes?” I ask and he shrugs. “I like this seat.” He explains and I nod.

We finish our class and Professor Snape calls me up. I walk over and he points at Fred. “He and George are falling behind. They have potential but waste their time doing pranks and jokes. Could you help Fred do work? I will give you extra credit. Me and his teachers think you and another girl are the best for the two. Top of your years of course.” He explains and I nod. “Yes sir. I will definitely get on that, no extra credit needed.” I say making him raise an eyebrow. “The joy of teaching of course.” I mumble and he nods questionably.

***

A few hours later I’m banging on Freds door. He opens the door only wearing sweats and I cover my face with papers. “Sorry. Thought you were my roommates.” He explains shyly grabbing a shirt off of the ground out of the millions of piles. I look around with my nose scrunched at the mess. “I always love getting that reaction. Helps the ego.” He says looking at the mess before him.

“Anyways...” I say and turn, giving him the books. “Read these. I have noticed your usual reading rate is around 160 pages per minute. But when you like the book it's 300. Try to meet me in the middle. I also noticed you dog ear pages. When you do that its bad for the book. Bookmark. Now what I think we will start off studying potions and finishing that workload. When you finish that we do transfiguration. Then some DADA homework. And-” I stop myself seeing him walk over to his bed reading a pranking magazine. “What are you doing?” I ask and he looks up at me. “Zonkos.” He points out showing me the magazine. “I know that… Why are you reading it?” I ask sitting down moving his legs. “Work.” I point out the books and he nods. “Read em all.” He explains. “What do you mean?” I ask and he laughs. “I read 'em. How do you think me and George make those potions? We know our shit, it's just the work we don’t bother doing.” He explains. I nod grabbing the magazine earning an upset groan. “How bout each workload you finish you get to read an article.” I propose and he groans getting up.

A few minutes later he’s finished and snatches the magazine from me grumpily. I smile reading the work. It's perfect. Some mistakes but it was only the hard stuff. I smile hugging him lightly and I back away quickly realizing I just hugged Fred Weasley. “Sorry.” We both say and chuckle. “Ok. Next piece of work.” I say and he groans, giving me the magazine. “This counts as slavery” He points out and I shake my head laughing. “I did want to say, your laugh is my favorite.” He says and I look at him confused. “Just because I didn’t remember you doesn’t mean I don’t notice you. You aren’t stuck up like most of the smart kids. I always liked that.” He tells me and I blush. “Just do your work you flirt.” I say blushing and he winks grabbing his quill. “Only flirt with the pretty ones.” He says and I blush more.

He finishes all his work after about two hours the whole time we joked around and laughed. I get up to leave but he stops me smiling. “Want to stay a little longer?” He asks and I kiss his cheek sweetly. “Gotta study myself.” I say and see he’s now blushing. “You studied this entire time.” He tells me and I laugh. “I have advanced classes, always gotta study.” I explain and he nods his smile only dropping a tiny bit. “Maybe later.” He says with a wink. I walk out blushing and sit next to Hermione who laughs at my state.

***Fred POV***

I walk over to Ron with George. We grab his collar from behind lifting him up and bringing him into a nearby storage closet as he yells. “WHAT THE BLOODY HELL!” He yells at us and we look at him annoyed. “OH GODRIC- MIONEEEE- L/N- SOMEONE BLOODY HELP ME THESE TWO ARE GOING TO HURT ME I KNOW THE LOOK!” He yells banging on the door. We grab his collar again earning a shriek. “CALM DOWN I JUST HAVE QUESTIONS ABOUT Y/N YOU TWIT!” I yell over his screams and he looks at me confused. “Y/N? What about her? She came over last christmas.” He explains and we look at each other slapping each other’s arm. “Why the hell do we not remember?!” We ask each other and he shrugs. “Fred was snogging some girl and George was drunk and high.” He explains and we look at each other annoyed.

“So what are your questions?” He asks and we nod. “We need the insider information. The pretty girl that he’s been drooling over is actually Y/N. She’s tutoring Freddie Boy and he’s got a crush.” George explains and I blush hitting his arm. “Do not.” I say and he scoffs.

“Do too.”

“Do not!”

“Do too!”

We start shoving each other and Ron stops us. “What the hell do you want to know?!” He asks and I nod. “Stuff like her favorite flower, favorite food, favorite everything.” He asks and I nod. “Well- She likes Blue Irises, but she’s allergic. Her second favorite is roses, she loves when guys know the meaning behind them too. I remember you read up on them so go with that. She doesn’t have a favorite food but if you want to be alone with her she’s always in the library after dinner. Tell her you wanted some extra study time or something.” He explains and we look at him skeptically. “Why are you telling us this?” I ask and he opens the door a little and points at a table in the Great Hall. “Malfoy’s making moves on her. I much rather Fred than him.” He explains. I watch as she giggles with Malfoy smiling besides her. “He’s probably just trying to use her. She’s hot as hell and smart too.” Ron admits and we nod.

“Well that isn’t happening.” I say and conjure a bouquet of light pink, peach, and coral roses. I walk over to her table and hold them up for her. She looks at them putting a hand to her chest. “Oh my god Fred what are these?” She asks, smiling and I smile back warmly. “I just wanted to say thank you for helping me with my school work.” I explain and she smells them smiling. “So the pink is for how sweet you are for helping me. Then the orange means appreciation because I really do appreciate it. And finally coral means friendship.” I say lying on the last part. She chuckles taking the coral one and smelling it. “Coral actually means desire but this was so sweet!” She says hugging me tightly. I smile at the short girl trying her best to wrap her arms around me and look at Malfoy as he sneers at me. “So Draco… As I said I’m now tutoring Fred, and have been for bout a week, so sadly I can’t tutor you. But maybe when his grades get up I’ll help with yours.” She explains and quickly kisses his cheek. I feel as if I just got a bludger to the chest and I keep my composure.

***Y/N’s POV**

I’m studying inside the library when I hear scuffling at the doors. I walk over to see Fred fighting Ron and George as they shove him into the library. I laugh quietly watching as they shove him inside. I can’t make out what they’re saying but they finally get him inside. They talk for a few seconds and Ron grabs his shoulders then slaps him a few times. He stands up nodding and they leave. He tries running out but they shove him back inside and I laugh a little louder. It gets his attention and he fights them harder making me feel a little upset. I walk over as he fights them and tap his shoulder. “If you’re afraid of me you can just say that.” I tell him and he looks down at me blushing. “N-no no no. I just don’t want to be studying but they’re forcing me.” He explains and I nod.

“Want to study with me? The library’s a little stuffy so I was just about to head to my dorm. If you’d like I would love it if you’d join me.” I ask shyly and he looks down at me smiling. “Well… Don’t want you to be lonely...” He says and I laugh holding my hand out. I drag him to my dorm sitting on my bed.

After some time of studying I catch myself looking up at him even though his back is turned to me he’s hypnotizing. I watch his strong arms move from one book to another or how he would lean his head back all the way. I rub my thighs together lightly as I try to take my mind off of it but I soon realize I have a mirror right in front of him. He spins around in his chair looking at me with a smirk. “Watcha doin?” He asks and I shrug acting innocent. He nods turning around chuckling.

***

A few days later I’m tutoring him in a classroom as he sits at the desk and he finally gets annoyed. He pushes all of his books on the ground getting my attention. I turn and see him walking up to me smiling flirtatiously. “I have been staring at your ass for way too long for that to be allowed.” He says and I blush furiously. “What?” I stutter and he grabs the side of my face kissing me. I give in to the kiss holding the back of his head and he slips his tongue past my lips. I moan lightly at this as he picks me up massaging my ass. He sets me on the desk when he finally retracts his head, placing his forehead to mine. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” He whispers out of breath. I kiss him again and feel his hands start to undo my polo. I place my hand on his chest and he looks at me worried. “W-we shouldn’t be doing this...” I mumble and he kisses me lightly. “We don’t have to, but I do think we totally should.” He says and I chuckle. I kiss him again and pull away stopping myself. “Godric why do you have to be so hot?” I ask and he shrugs smiling.

“What if...” He starts. He walks over to his desk and taps it. “Each piece of work done. One article of clothing. Then you're still doing your job and we still get to have fun.” He proposes and I chuckle shyly. He picks me up from the front desk placing me on his with my legs on either side. “Well?” He asks again and I bite my lip. “We would be breaking the rules...” I mumble and he laughs as if I said the funniest joke ever. “Like I care. Now. One piece for one piece of clothing?” He asks and I finally give in nodding. He kisses my thigh and I feel it go all the way to my core.

He rubs my thigh absent-mindedly as he works on the paper. He finally gets the first one done and hands it to me as he unbuttons the polo I have on. I check it and place it behind me. “First one done.” I say as if my shirt wasn’t off and he wasn’t eyeing my chest. “One kiss?” He asks and I laugh kissing him. He starts kissing down my neck and I finally stop him, handing him the next piece of work. He gets that done quicker than ever and tries taking off my bra but I stop him. “Underwear last.” I tell him and he nods, kissing my thigh again sending shivers through my entire body. He helps me shimmy off my skirt and throws it on the ground. “Godric you are beautiful.” He mumbles looking at me with a hunger I’ve never seen before.

He finishes another assignment at record speed. “Are you sure darling?” He asks before taking off my bra. “Please.” I mumble and he nods taking it off. He keeps his eyes on my chest making my cheeks turn pink. “Darling… You are gorgeous.” He tells me, kissing me roughly. He massages my chest making me moan. He drags my hips to fall into his lap as I feel contact with my aching clit and his trousers I moan louder into his mouth. “I know darling..” He mumbles as he moves to my chest sucking on my nipple and massaging the other. “Freddie...” I moan as he leaves hickeys on my chest. I remember the work and almost don’t care but making him wait would add so much more fun.

I give it to him sitting back in my place and he groans hitting his head on the desk lightly. “You are murdering me here.” He mumbles and I chuckle massaging his head lightly. He picks it up, moving his work back on the desk. Every now and then he’d glance at my chest smirking and working harder. He finishes the homework, giving it to me and I read it over slowly. He finally grabs it viciously and slamming it behind me, making me jump. “Darling please take off those horrible panties before I cut them off.” He tells me and I nod quickly. I shuffle them off and he flicks his wand to silence and lock the room.

He tugs my hips to the edge of the desk kissing my inner thigh. He moves to right above where I want him to be kissing it and I whine lightly. “Aw darling… Would you like me to lick your pretty cunt clean?” He asks and I nod furiously as he finally licks all the way from my entrance to my clit and lightly swirls his tongue around it making me moan. He starts eating me out (is it obvious I don’t know how to word it-) and rubbing my clit as I moan his name over and over again. He pulled away right before I was about to come, leaving me to let out a whiney moan. He kisses me lighty and pulls away chuckling. “Sorry I just can’t take the trousers right now.” He mumbles softly. He gets up taking his clothes off and I watch biting my nails lightly.

He kisses me finally and I stop him before he sits down. “I-I’ve never. Ya know...” I mumble and he kisses me. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.” He tells me and I shake my head. “No I just want to warn you...” I explain and he kisses me softly. “You sure?” He asks and I nod, biting my lip. He sits down and moves me slowly on him. It hurts at first but Fred’s kisses helped me and the pain turned quickly into pleasure. I nod and start moving when he gives me the go-ahead. I feel his hands guide my waist as I go up and down against his dick. He chuckles, kissing me, moving one of my hands that are clutched to his shoulder to my stomach, smirking. “Feel that? I shouldn’t even fit” He chuckles and I nod kissing him roughly. I feel him massage my ass with one hand still guiding me with the other. He moans my name, moving his head back. I feel myself get close as he keeps moving me sucking on my chest. “Freddie ‘m gonna come.” I mumble and he nods kissing my shoulder. “Go on. I want to see your cum spill on my lap.” He mumbles and I nod, continuously going up and down.

I moan out his name loudly when I finally come all over his dick and he lightly praises me. I keep going until I feel him cum inside me and I fall into his arms exhausted. “So… Do I get out of tutoring now?” He jokes and I laugh lightly. “I will not succumb to your seduction.” I mumble and he laughs. I feel his chest rise and fall violently from laughter and I just hum in ecstasy.

We get dressed and he stops me blushing lightly. “Is this… an only one time thing?” He asks and I laugh. “If you think you will take my virginity and it being a one time thing I will hex your cute ass.” I tell him and he smiles pulling me in for a long kiss. We sit down facing each other and I grab my notebook. “Whatcha doin?” He asks and I click my pen. “We need rules” I tell him and he nods.

“Ok so You follow the school rules, I follow yours. You don't, you don't fuck me for a week per rule broken got it?” I ask caressing his cheek as he melts into it smiling goofily. “Yes ma’am...” He mumbles and I write it down. “Let's also make the clothing=work. Not all the time, just when I’m tutoring you.” I tell him and he nods happily. We continue making rules while he rubs my wrist lovingly.

---------------------------------------------------

I get snapped back to reality as Fred is giving me a light backrub to soothe the tension from Hermione’s questioning. “Right there darling...” I mumble and he moves a little to go to where I was pointing. “What were you thinking about?” He asks and I nod as he tries his best to massage my back. I smile at the question and rub his hand. “When we got together four months ago.” I mumble and he chuckles. “That was a many blow and hand jobs ago.” He jokes and I slap his hand laughing. “Can’t believe they still haven’t found out! Like should we tell them already?!” I ask and he laughs shaking his head. “It's funny watching them prod and wonder.” He tells me. I hear the door rattle and George mumble a spell. I jump to the floor and roll underneath his bed quickly. Should I make a part 3 where they get caught? So sorry if its bad

#fred weasley #canon #george weasley #fred and goerge weasley #fred and george #hermione granger #ron weasley #Fears #hogwarts #gryffindor #hufflepuf

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tomdiddlyumptious · 4 years ago

Text

T.H| Mines

Summary: block your ex number please, just take the time to do it

Warnings: smut when you first read, i guess non con video recording...but its all good cuz ur x called

A/n: IM DEADASS ON A SMUT RAMPAGE DONT BE SUPRISED IF YOU SEE ANOTHER

And fr this picture is cringy as hell 🤦🏽‍♀️😭

“tommy!” you gasped, his hand coming to your hair and pulling it while he took you from behind. “like that? i know you do” he groaned, just getting started, he pounded into you, the clapping noises strong as your mouth hung open, both of your phones on the night stand but you could care less, he came down and whispered dirty things in your ear, pressing his chest against yours “like that, my fat cock spreading my pussy, thats right. my fucking pussy, i fucking own it, no one else can have it” he whispered, a whimper leaving your lips by his words as your face was stuffed in the pillow.

he reached up for your hands that where next to your head, holding them from behind as he fucked harder, a gasp leaving your lips as he hit your spot so quickly. he groaned and bit his lip, his lower stomach against your ass and he was enjoying that.. a little weird but okay. he laid his head down on your back, looking against the wall until something caught his eyes, your phone.

“whos texting you?” he asked, more of whispered because he was out of breath. “i dont- uh- i dont know” you moaned, he ignored it and started to slow down, sitting up and opening your ass checks before slapping one.

your phone vibrated repeaditly. “y/n its killing the fucking mood, who the fuck it it?” he asked again, you ignored him and grabbed your phone, clicking on the message and opening it, it was snapchat. tom watched from afar, moans still leaving your mouth as you clicked on the picture.

“what the fuck?” tom said before you could react, grabbing the phone, more like snatching it away from you. “whos sending you dic pics y/n?” he ask softly, trying to hide the anger boiling up his skin. “i dont know” you said looking back at him, completly calm as he looked at the message under it “i know you missed this? kissy face?” he read it off, he looked at you and you looked...he didnt know, emotionless, like nothing was roaming through your mind. “give me my phone thomas” he looked at you crazy as you held your hand out, he hit your spot hard and a harsh moan left your lips.

“you wanna look at it? fuck that” that night you and tom tried to get new stuff for the room so a pair of leds couldnt hurt anyone, they were on red by the way, so yeah everything was going off the rails. he took your phone and open the camera, specifically video, he came close and bent down again. “you be a good slut and answer my questions, yeah?” he said more of an order than an ask but you agreed anyway.

he put his arm under yours, and pressed the red button, the clapping noises immeaditly heard as he took it slow. “smile to the camera” he said, showing your face and his in the background, both smiling childishly at the camera, he kissed your shoulder. “who owns you?” he asked as clear as day. “you, tommy” “whos pussy is this?” you whimpered as you answered, “yours, its all yours” “theres my good girl” he coed praising you softly. “whos fucking you” he bit the same spot. “you” “whats my name?” “t-tom”

he suddenly went faster, choking on your moan as your eyes rolled back. you whined as your hand came up to your mouth, biting your thumb. “no baby let em know whos pussy this is” he slapped your ass harshly and you cried, your eyes closing. “stop fucking texting my girl, youve obviously been replaced, next time you fucking try me theres gonna be problems” you let out high pitched moans and shouted out toms name, he smiled at the camera before stopping it.

he simply sent the video to him, no regrets or nothing, he didnt slow down either, while still giving you what you want the most he struggled to type out ‘if you ever want a personal sex tape just DM me’ he added the same emoji to throw back shade, you let out your whispers and begged him not to stop, his hand came around to swirl your clit and you arched your back, he bit small spots on your back while he waited for a response, only getting left on read he smiled, you clenched around his tightly and came and chuckled “my fucking pussy” he slapped your clit.

after that incident it was all good and happy, “we should become porn stars” you joked. he smiled as he looked over at you “nah.. id be jealous if someone else gets to see your tits” you smacked your lips and rolled your eyes and hit him while he laughed and held your hand.

#tom holland x reader #tom holland #tom holland fanfic #tom holland x black!reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland fluff #tom holland au #tom holland blurb

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starkeristheendgame · 4 years ago

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Hunter!Tony x Demon!Peter AU

Hunter!Tony binds Demon!Peter to himself in order to find the monster that murdered his late fiancée. Lead down roads he’d never imagined himself taking, Tony discovers that maybe revenge isn’t the only thing he’s hungry for.

“Is being a pervert part of the hiring process or are you just getting your money’s worth?”

Tony couldn’t see it, but he knew regardless that those plush lips would be pushed into a pout and those arched brows would be furrowed into a petulant scowl.

“If you’ve got me running around like your little errand boy, the least you could do is be nice to me,” a high, sweet voice simpered back. The face that belonged to it was just as youthful when it appeared in the mirror over his shoulder, watching him button his shirt with vested interest.

Tony didn’t deign to dignify it with a reply, staring down the pretty little monster until it let out a sigh.

“Fine. I have your lead. Arkansas, a seedy little dive known as the Dog Den.”

Something hot and rabid twisted in his gut and he had to pause his motions, hands trembling almost imperceptibly. It felt a lot like rage and a little bit like hope.

“Are you sure?”

Eyes the colour of fresh honey rolled so hard he could almost hear the muscles stretching. “No. I asked a magic eight-ball.”

He twisted with a snarl, reaching out. The ring on his finger pulsed with a molten orange glow and between slender wrists a chain that shimmered transparently flared to life, forming a delicate set of shackles no wider than if he’d wound a necklace there.

He curled a finger in the glowing links, dragging the Demon close enough that he could see the flecks of gold in those dark eyes.

“I’m sure,” it repeated, softer, quieter, holding his gaze with wariness, but not fear.

He let the chain drop after a moment, grunting as he turned around and finished buttoning up his shirt. When he twisted to reach for the jacket the lithe figure was sprawled out on his bed, artfully arranged as the Demon flipped through a magazine Tony knew hadn’t been in his own bags.

“You know,” the Demon piped up again as he tucked in his shirt, “maybe if you smiled a little more, the ugly things in the dark wouldn’t try to kill you as much.”

“Shut up.”

“Not possible.”

“I’ll make it possible.”

“Oh, you always promise me a good time and never deliver.”

Despite himself, Tony found he had to wrestle fiercely with a smile. “Peter.”

That heady, dangerous gaze pinned itself to him again. He met it evenly, ignoring the thrum of his pulse. The Demon really couldn’t have picked a prettier vessel to take over, a smudge of parasitic darkness inside the prettiest packaging.

That pink little mouth opened like it was considering another witty retort, then closed. Instead the Demon - Peter, merely hummed and went back to flicking through his magazine, disinterestedly glossing over half-naked women and gossip scandals.

It was almost disconcerting. To look at the pretty little slip of a thing sprawled out on his bed like some rented whore and to know that behind that pretty face was a being of Hell’s creation. Something twisted and dark, a corrupted soul festering behind a distracting smokescreen.

Peter Parker was the sort of face Tony would’ve fallen for like a rock, if he hadn’t been the one to summon the Demon to the surface.

Perhaps that’s why the Demon had chosen such a nice outfit. A desperate bid not to get ganked the moment he crawled out of Hell.

“You’re thinking too loudly,” Peter sighed, turning a page idly. He’d rolled over onto his stomach now, jaw propped in his palm.

“You can’t read minds. Don’t get comfortable, we’re leaving soon,” he grunted in reply, shrugging on a jacket.

“Can’t I just meet you there?” the Demon whined, looking up with (literally) sinful puppy eyes.

“No.”

He left it at that, flat and unforgiving, as he had to be. In another life he’d have fallen for that soft whine and that pleading look. Might’ve taken his shirt right off and crawled onto the bed, put that open mouth to good use.

But this was not that life, and that pretty face was stolen.

He checked all his things then reached out, plucking the gossip rag from Peter’s hands and throwing it in the trash. “Meet me at the car.”

“I was reading that,” Peter huffed indignantly, glowering up at him before he disappeared, leaving behind nothing but a dip in the bedspread and the scent of copper.

He was sprawled in the backseat when Tony made his out to the 1970 Challenger he called his own, a set of stylish shades covering his eyes, fluffy hair unkempt and arms folded behind his head.

“Feet off the upholstery,” he huffed as he turned the key, swinging the car out of the parking lot and onto the road with a loud rumble of the engine.

“I know for a fact you sleep in this car and my shoes are clean,” Peter answered primly, angling his head towards the open window and the warmth of the morning sun.

Arkansas was a three day drive. They spent the first in almost complete silence, although the Demon did sulk when they stopped for gas and Tony declined to buy him anything. Rather than waste money on another motel he pulled onto a quiet patch of land behind a thicket of trees, settling across the bench seat with a sigh.

“Fuck off and come back in the morning.”

“Eloquent as ever,” Peter griped, leaning over the seat, arms folded and chin atop them. He looked laughably angelic in the darkness, all soft edges, voice quiet enough that a mouse wouldn’t flee it.

“Sweet dreams,” he whispered, and when Tony cracked open an eye to repeat his command, he was gone.

Gone, until he thumped his fist on the window at the ass-crack of dawn, looking chipper and cheerful, Starbucks cup in hand. “Up and at ‘em, sunshine! The monsters aren’t gonna hunt themselves!”

Tony considered stabbing him there and then, but Peter was unfortunately an asset he couldn’t afford to lose. Invaluable, as much as it stroked the Demon’s ego. He settled for glaring, baring past the Demon as he stomped off to relieve himself.

The next two nights went much the same, although Peter got chattier the more bored he became. Fiddled with the radio, disappeared for moments only to return holding an ‘interesting’ leaf or rock, scooped up from the side of the road Tony had just driven past.

Arkansas was crisp and bright and dewy in the mid-weeks of spring. It was so different from the New York of his youth, with it’s towering glass jungle and concrete pillars. It was a visceral reaction to think of the scent of flowers and clean air in Sicily, of pink lipstick smudged on his jaw, a laugh fading slowly, overtaken by the rumble of the engine.

Countryside became a smattering of industrialisation, bars and houses, garages and stores. He wanted to keep on going, chase that tail until he caught it and tore it off, but he knew better than to rush in half-blind.

He had to eat something proper. Had to rest. Had to learn everything he could from the paltry little stack of papers that Peter had given him, printed out at a library miles and miles back in the time it had taken Tony to piss and buy a bottle of water at a gas station.

Food, first.

The diner was like every other. Gaudy and cheap with food that was more grease than nutrition. Peter’s nose scrunched the moment they entered and he looked nonplussed when they were guided to a booth.

The Demon made a big show of pulling out a pack of wipes from the pocket of his fitted jacket, scrubbing the table as the waitress listed off the day’s specials. Tony rolled his eyes before ordering coffee and a slap-up breakfast, about to dismiss the waitress when Peter cut in with a saccharine smile.

“Bacon too, please. Crispy. And a milkshake. Thanks a bunch, darling.”

She arched her brows but made no comment, glancing at Tony before leaving. Then it was Tony’s turn to stare and quirk his brow, watching the Demon shrug lightly.

“What? I get cravings.”

Peter fiddled with a napkin as they waited, as Tony read through the sheets of paper. Folding it over and over into a little crane that he perched atop the salt shaker.

“Where did you even learn origami?” Tony grunted, watching it sway before it stabilised. Peter’s gaze flicked up to him and there was something unexpected there. A hollowness, heavily guarded but flickering in the gold of his irises even so.

“Even the worst of the worst need hobbies, hunter,” he uttered softly, and then their food arrived and they were lost to the silence that overcame those sating their hunger. Peter ate with an almost childlike manner, easily distracted, toying with his straw before each sip. He even swung his legs a little and drummed his fingertips on the table top.

The perfect performance.

He looked away.

Peter was unusually quiet after that, subdued as they made their way to a motel relatively close to the Dog Den. He didn’t even pester the receptionist or try to embarrass Tony by pretending to be some sort of rent boy as he purchased a key, eyeing the Demon consideringly.

When Tony slipped beneath the sheets Peter disappeared without argument, offering only a mock salute before he flickered and was gone, leaving nothing but a wisp of dark smoke.

He wondered where the Demon went. Back to Hell? Some run-down library to read through the night? An empty motel room to pilfer their cable connection?

The disconcertion over Peter’s silence left him the next day, when he commanded Peter to steer clear as he got dressed to hit their lead.

“You can’t go alone,” Peter announced, frowning.

“I can and I am. You’ll just attract attention,” Tony pointed out, shrugging on another flannel and tucking the flask of holy water against his belt.

“And if you die?” Peter shot back. It surprised his brows into lifting as he met the Demon’s gaze, tipping his head.

“Then you’ll be free of your bindings and there’ll be one less hunter ganking your friends. What’s the problem?”

Peter’s mouth opened, then closed, as if he was only suddenly remembering that he wasn’t in this little dynamic duo willingly.

“I get the Challenger if you die,” the Demon said instead, turning away from.

And maybe Tony should’ve thought more about that demand, because the only thing he could think of as he lay bleeding in the middle of the woods several long hours later was that Peter would most definitely get the car all scratched up and dirty.

Demons had no respect for vehicle maintenance.

He coughed wetly and grunted, pressing a hand to his bleeding chest. They wouldn’t, he supposed. Demons could just fly everywhere.

Peter had adamantly argued it was not teleportation.

He breathed out a sigh and shifted fumbling for his wallet. His fingers smeared blood against the white edges of the crumpled photograph in there and he stared at his wife’s smile, frozen in time and taken just days before a Demon on a murder kick had burnt her soul up from within her, along with their unborn daughter.

“I’d say see you soon, but. W’both know m’goin’ to Hell, not where you are,” he told her image softly, giving it a weary, slow smile.

“Hell would ask for a refund,” came a familiar voice, and moments later there were warm hands on his jaw, tilting his head up. “You stupid bastard. I told you not to go alone. I could feel there was someone stronger in this town!”

Peter’s eyes were wide and round, plump lower lip between his teeth as he dropped his gaze, eyeing where Tony was slowly leaking his insides all over his outsides. “Shit,” the Demon breathed softly.

Tony made an agreeable sound. Shit was about right. He’d run head first into the messy, gruesome end that almost every hunter found themselves at. The end of the road; the final curtain; bleeding out somewhere at the hands of something twisted and ugly and evil.

“Guess you get th’car,” he rasped, aiming for humorous. It fell short when he blanched and more hot fluid slid down his throat and his chest, pooling at his navel.

“Shut up,” Peter growled at him, letting go of his head to pull up his shirt. His fingertips were light, but it still felt like fire. Hot and licking over everything he touched. “God, you’re so fucking stupid. I told you to take me. I told you I should go.”

“C’n you save th’gloatin’ ‘till I’m dead?” he asked, frowning. Most hunters probably didn’t get this much conversation on their deathbeds.

Peter shot him a positively scathing look, pressing down hard on the wound. It made agony flare up his torso, smothering his pathetic yell of pain into a weak, thready rasp.

“This is gonna hurt us both,” the Demon muttered, looking inexplicably angry as he settled his palms flat atop the worst of the wound. A muted sound was all Tony could manage, watching the Demon with hazy confusion.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Or at least, Tony didn’t notice it happening.

But then a strange, new type of pain began to lance through him, battling against the numbing burn of his torn organs. It crept through his veins and branched out, a tingling, almost electric sensation that had him tensing as best as his broken body would let him.

He opened his mouth and if he’d had the energy left for it he’d have reeled in surprise when Peter leaned forwards, slotting their mouths together firmly.

The Demon’s lips were soft and plush, with the faintest trace of soda. His lips were warm, too, just a breath above what would be normal for a person.

Tony almost didn’t know what he should be recoiling at the most; kissing a Demon, or kissing what was for all intents and purposes a sixteen year old.

Peter didn’t try to do anything else and Tony realised in the timeframe that he’d been internally broiling over the situation, breathing had become easier.

The fire was dulling to a simmer; a slow ember that still ached but no longer made him feel like he had one foot in the gates of Hell. His breath hitched and Peter pulled back slowly, keeling to one side slightly and almost falling over as he drew away.

His eyes were pools of inkblack, shiny and void as the Demon sucked in his own rattled breath, pulling shaking hands away from Tony’s torso.

He let his gaze fall slowly to his chest. He was still covered in blood, but the flesh there looked smooth and unmarred. Where he was once carved open like a pot hole there was once again closed off muscle and flesh.

He looked up in surprise. Peter was on his knees, hands braced on his thighs as he rode out the strain of wrangling his leashed powers. His eyes were slowly returning to the human hue, red-rimmed as if he’d been crying, plump lips downturned.

Tony licked his own, jerked straight back into the sensation of Peter’s mouth on his.

“Why?” he demanded roughly, bringing a hand to subconsciously touch his chest.

Peter shot him a sidelong look, the effect slightly dampened by the way he looked vaguely sick.

“A thank you might be nice,” the Demon sneered at him, huffing a twisted curl from his eyes as Tony pushed himself to his feet, ungainly and uncoordinated. Bracing himself on a tree, Tony stared down at the Demon.

At Peter, who’d saved his life. Against all he stood to benefit from Tony’s death, against all that he’d done his best to kill him when he first discovered he’d been shackled to Tony.

Coughing, Tony did his best to pull his shredded shirt closed before he made a rough gesture. “Get up. You’ll have to take us back to the motel. My car’s still at the bar.” Smashed up or stolen, he realised with a pang of sadness and anger.

“Oh no, lover-boy. You’ve been keeping me at half-mast all year. One night of fun has done me in for the night. I’m limp - get your own ride into town.”

Tony glowered, but all his frowning and snapping proved fruitless. Peter’s powers had been bound tight for almost a year and he really was burnt out, looking every inch as young as his vessel as he wobbled to his feet. The most he managed them was a few meters down the road when he tried.

It took them until sunrise to come close enough to the town that Tony could hotwire a car from the side of the road, ditching it a reasonable way from the motel and wiping it down with a clean patch of his shirt to get rid of his fingerprints.

He wasn’t bothered about Peter’s. Peter had mentioned having this particular vessel for over fifty years - his prints would be written off as a glitch on the system.

He went straight for the shower, scrubbing his skin pink as he tried to sleuth off the memory of being cut open, of dying alone in the dark and the cold, certain that this was his one-way ticket downstairs.

Brushed his teeth; trying to rid himself of the guilt that came with realising that the kiss had been pleasant, to a degree. Soft, pink skin, the sweetness of a soda consumed while Tony had been-

He shut off the water.

When he stepped out, Peter was actually curled up in the bed, looking almost infantile with the covers pulled up to his jaw. He seemed only half-awake, barely stirring when Tony entered the room. He was pulling on a new shirt when Peter spoke, voice sleepy and quiet.

“My Uncle taught me.”

Tony paused, glancing over his shoulder.

“Origami,” Peter clarified softly. “You asked me. At the diner. Where I’d learned origami. My Uncle taught me when I was thirteen.”

Pulling on a pair of sweatpants, Tony took a light seat on the edge of the bed, each of them facing a separate wall. He was quiet for a little while, digesting the information.

“Thank you for saving me,” he grunted after a moment, uncomfortable with the intimacy of the words. It wasn’t anything he’d ever thought he’d say to a Demon. Peter had gotten him out of scrapes and healed up wounds before, but always under command and never anything so serious.

Desperate to rein back some control, he slid under the sheets and stared up at the ceiling. “If you ever kiss me again, I’ll use thread soaked in holy water and sew your mouth shut.”

Irritatingly, Peter snorted. “That was hardly a kiss.”

“You’re in a snot-nosed brat’s body, what would you know about kissing?” Tony shot back, brows pinching into a frown.

“This,” Peter huffed at him, rolling over and on top of him.

Tony blamed the fact that he didn’t pull away on simply being too tired to.

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angrylizardjacket · 4 years ago

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fit by my side {Machine Gun Kelly}

@bitchylittleredhead said: Okay I hear your MGK x pastel!reader and I raise you MGK x Mother Nature!reader. Hella plants, strong love for animals, heckin soft, v kind, mom friend, sunshine child. (I just really really love soft paired with him, it’s so damn cute) also I love you I hope you are well 🧡

Also This Concept

A/N: 3177 words. Gender Neutral Reader (they/them) ! im worried kells is OOC. also there’s no smut but it does get M rated, but there’s no genitals specified. gets quite sappy at times. also @url-under-construction i hope u like it and i hope its good.

----

When you meet Colson, he’s famous, but he’s not, you know, famous famous. You meet on the set of The Dirt; he’s one of the stars, you’re a production assistant and stand-in when they need it, and you don’t think for a second that he’ll even remember your name when this is all over.

But he does; in rehearsals, you’re the one reading the lines for the characters they haven’t cast yet, and the first time the four main cast members see you, in your floaty, floral top, and your gentle aura, and then to hear you say, with absolute sincerity, ‘your mom’s a cunt’, it has them bursting out laughing. You smile, sweet and kind, and you step gently through the blocking that has the character you’re currently standing in for, stabbing Tommy - Colson - with a pen.

Maybe the juxtaposition of you taking part in this whole production is what intrigues him.

When filming starts, you’re still around, and something about seeing you, amid this performance of debauchery, and yet you’re still sincere and gentle, your choice of attire making you stick out like a sore thumb amid the leather and grime. At first, he tries to play it off, that you look somewhat out of place and it’s eye-catching, but you bring the cast food and water and whatever they need, you go on coffee runs, and take a genuine interest in each of them, and by the time he realises that his mood lifts every time he walks on set and sees you there, he knows he can’t play it off as you catching his eye for completely platonic reasons.

He asks you out the week after Casie leaves from visiting set, having seen you interact with her, entertain her while Colson was in hair, treating her with just as much kindness and respect as you did everyone else on the production. It convinces him that your intentions are true, and he knows that he can’t finish this production without shooting his shot.

By the time the wrap party comes around, you’re calling him your boyfriend, at first tentative, looking to him for confirmation, but then you see the way he beams at how the words sound when you say them, and you grow more confident each time you say it.

It’s met with... confusion.

Really?

It seems no-one saw that coming - if anyone, I would have expected Douglas - you hear, and frown.

“What does that mean?” You ask; a frown is rare to see on your face, but you’re wearing it anyhow, and the woman your speaking to splutters her way around a sentence as she’s trying to backpeddle.

“I just- I mean, well, Kells - Colson - he’s so... Doulgas just seems more... refined? Not that Colson not, you know- you’re just -”

“I’m just what?” You ask, not accusing, more curious than anything else, and the woman’s voice dies in her throat as she looks you over; pale blue jeans and a pastel, patterned button-down that would have looked right at home in the eighties.

“I’m just concerned for you,” she eventually says, laying her hand on yours like she’s trying to do you a favour, “Colson’s intense, I’m just worried you’ll get hurt.” You see what she’s trying to say, but her tone is so painfully condescending.

“I’m an adult,” you tell her, tone understanding but firm, “and I appreciate your concern, but I promise I can take care of myself.”

The moment you can get out of the conversation, you find Colson, talking animatedly to one of the makeup artists, and you slot yourself into the space by his side. Automatically, without even stopping the conversation, he wraps his arm around you and pulls you close, and you gratefully take the moment to press your face against him, wrapping your arms around him without saying a word. It’s both strangely intimate and familiar, his thumb rubbing small circles against your side.

As he stops talking, there’s a lull, and you don’t have to look up to know the makeup artist is giving you both a strange look.

“Ignore me,” your voice is muffled against him, using one hand as if to waive off any last bits of hesitation.

“They’re fine,” Colson assured, tapping you on the hip. He’s still oozing casual confidence

You’ve been together for almost half of filming, which isn’t exactly a short amount of time, but usually you try and keep things professional on set, so it’s nice to be able to be close to him in public.

The rest of the cast know, of course, you’ve been out with them on several occasions, and they all have come to adore you just as much as you adore them. Something about hearing Daniel drunkenly assure you that if Colson ever hurts you, that there’d be a line of people ready to slap some sense into him. You try to brush him off, endeared by his drunken affection, but he turns suddenly to the rest of the cast.

“Hey, hey, hey - who’d throw down for Y/N?” He asks; without hesitation, Douglas, Iwan, and Colson raise their hands, eyes wide and alert, as if the offer needed to be acted upon immediately. The show of support has your heart swelling in your chest.

You find yourself fitting into his life back in LA easily; while beginning work as an assistant on a Netflix original series, you call into his house in the Hollywood Hills, delighted to be privy to demos and snippets from his next album.

And you meet his friends, shake their hands and smile and chatter with them. They’re not sure what to make of you at first, no-one really is when you present yourself in conjunction with Colson, but soon they start to see what he sees in you. It’s endearingly genuine and thoughtful and honest and enthusiastic and -

“They’re like sunshine,” it’s Rook’s Instagram live, almost six months into your relationship with Colson, that really cements it to the public. Rook is smoking in Colson’s living room in the middle of the afternoon between recording sessions, and someone asked what your deal was.

“I’m so sick of - and I know Kells is, and Y/N too, not that they’d ever say anything. ‘ve never heard them say a bad word ‘bout anyone, you know,” Rook hits the blunt again, his face scrunching up, “but everyone ‘round here’s so fuckin’ sick of people talkin’ shit ‘bout ‘em. For real, Y/N is sunshine, nicer than all of you motherfuckers put together,” and he laughs, but it’s clear he isn’t entirely joking, “- you know what?” He asked, eyes lighting up and standing abruptly, grabbing the phone.

“Baze, man, you seen Y/N?” He calls, and Baze responds from somewhere off-camera that you’re outside. The comments are going off, but he pays them no mind, heading out to the backyard, only to see you by the back fence, peering over into the trees, on your tip toes, one hand straining over the fence, in shorts and a singlet in sunshine yellow.

Rook calls your name.

You shush him loudly, and then, without looking at him, slowly wave him over.

As he approaches, he can hear the telltale sound of a bird chirping, and as soon as he gets close, he hears you whisper -

“I think they’re bluebirds,” you murmur, and finally look back at him, lowering yourself, surprised to see his phone held aloft. He tells you he’s live streaming, you wave awkwardly, which is when he sees the slice of banana you’re holding, “I’m not sure what they eat; do bluebirds eat banana?” You ask, a little helpless, looking at Rook, and then to his phone.

After a moment, you step aside, and gesture for Rook to take a look over the fence, and sure enough there’s a nest with a single, rather sad looking bluebird with it’s wing bent at a strange angle, calling out pathetically, obscuring a few eggs, just out of arm’s reach. While he’s looking over the fence, also trying to reach them, and also trying to get the phone close enough to see if anyone watching the livestream could identify the bird or offer any suggestion, he hears your footsteps retreating.

“Stay there, I’m going to get Kells,” you call out to him, voice bright, “he’s got long arms!” And Rook bursts out laughing; you weren’t wrong.

While waiting, he sits against the fence and answers a few more questions, until he looks up and sees you, expression concerned, and Colson uncharacteristically fond as he lets you lead him by the hand.

You show him the nest and ask for him to get it, worried the bird was hurt, and he obligingly reaches over the back fence to gently collect the bird nest, trying his best not to jostle the bird. The bird’s wing appeared to be broken, and Rook ends the live when you mention that you’re going to take the bird to the vet.

Already, the fandom is exploding from what had transpired.

People are making suggestions as to what the birds should be named, people are claiming your caring and sweet personality is completely fake, people in the live managed to screenshot Colson’s expression as you’d lead him to the birds, how smitten he was with his hand in yours, and have started posting ‘get u a man who looks at u like kells looks at y/n’ all over twitter and tumblr.

“Bird update!” Several hours later, Colson posts a series of videos to his instagram story, “for those of y’all who don’t know, Y/N found a bird with a broken wing in a tree out the back of my place, we rescued it and it’s eggs, and took it to the vet,” and with that he flips the camera around, from a close up on his face, to show a large, cardboard box in the corner of the room.

Peep Davidson was written in large, black letters on the side of the box.

The rest of the videos are outlining what the vet had told you all, and that the bird should only take about seven days to heal before you could put them all back into the wilderness.

At that, he pauses.

“You worried about putting the birds back when you saw that cat the other day?” And he angles the camera to reveal you, laying with your head in his lap.

“The orange one?” You ask, voice heavy, as if he’d disturbed you when you’d been right about to fall asleep. You yawn, and he confirms, you give a little, lazy shrug and smile, “not sure where that cat is.”

“Fuckin’ hell, babe,” Colson laughs, “you gotta stop finding random animals in my backyard.”

“They find me,” you counter, and shift so you can press your face against his belly, humming contentedly as his free hand begins stroking your back.

“Snow White-Cinderella-Pied Piper motherfucker,” how that is somehow the softest, most gentle words to ever leave his lips, is utterly baffling, but there’s so much love and adoration but you turn enough for the camera to catch your delighted little smile, “you’re-” he starts, “who’s that dude from that, that My Hero shit we were watching the other night?”

“Koji Koda, you weeb,” you tease him fondly, knowing exactly who he’s referring to, and that’s where the video ends.

That’s the day it’s confirmed for the rest of the world. There’s countless paparazzi photos, and hints, and speculation, but this is the first time he’d called you anything but your name, and they’d all seen you snuggling up to him, your head in his lap.

This also is the day the trend begins on his Instagram story of a photo of you, usually in his backyard, with whatever animal had decided to befriend you that day.

My partner. My backyard. No fucking idea who’s animal that is.

And he still goes out and gets fucked up, and sometimes you’re there, and sometimes you’re not. When you’re out together, it still doesn’t quite make sense; he’s hard partying and over the top, and it seems like it wouldn’t be your scene at all.

But then there’s photos of Colson and a few of his friends standing on the edge of a roof, announcing that they’re Kings, and you’re by his side, smiling and waving at the person taking the photograph. He manages to get himself injured pulling a stunt at a friend’s house party, but you’re in the back of some influencer’s vlog, straddling his lap with tissues in your hand, him holding you secure as you clean up the scrape on his forehead; it’s kind of sickening how in love he looks, as he watches the way you concentrate. When you notice his expression, your own softens, and you lean in to give him a kiss.

And so you start to make sense, but people still ask why.

So when asked, you tell people that you support each other, and challenge each other, and yeah, that’s absolutely why you’re together, but it’s not the whole reason as to why you make sense.

Because no-one sees the way you hook your finger into his belt loop at the back of his pants at the house party, and you press a kiss between his shoulder blades, and he knows exactly what that means. He’s quick to make some flimsy excuse to leave as you step into place by his side, which everyone he’s speaking to immediately sees through. You play at being flustered, tucking your embarrassed expression against him as he slings his arm around your shoulders, and calls an Uber.

The drive back to his place has you both on edge with anticipation, his hands all over you in the back of the car while you try to hold a civil conversation with the driver. It’s killing you not to give in, but you know it’s worth it.

“You’re such an idiot!” You announced, grinning from ear to ear the moment you get into the house, before the door’s even closed, and he slams it shut to press you against it. Kissing him feels like a cathartic release, but after a moment you shove him back, loudly admonishing him for taking part of a stunt that got him hurt.

“You could have been seriously hurt!” You keep poking him in the chest to punctuate your words, and he steps back each time, expression alight, pupils blown wide. He keeps reaching out, as if to touch you, to snag your clothes, like it’s a game when you smack his hand back every time.

“Got a gnarly cut though,” he pointed out, as his ass hits the kitchen island. His legs open, making space for you, and you step into it.

“Gnarly cut,” you murmur, tone surprisingly derisive, and you reach up to push his hair back from his forehead. His head tips back, leaning into your touch, the look on his face almost dreamy even as you’ve got a hand on his hips, pushing him back on the counter.

Then you’re in his lap on the counter, hand fisted in his hair, lips on his neck, leaving bruises and bite marks. He’s trying to get you naked, efficient and desperate, but the moment he gets your shirt off, you push the fruit bowl behind him onto the floor, and push him back against the granite countertop.

“You were worried about me,” he smirks up at you, admiring you with your hands planted either side of his head.

“Because you don’t worry about your damn self!”

“Ooh, breaking out damn tonight? Must be serious,” he teased, deliberately riling you up; he loved this side of you just as much as the sweetness. Instead of responding, you reach up under his shirt and rake your nails harshly down his chest and stomach, delighting in the way he arched up at the sudden sensation, eyes falling closed.

With one hand still flat against his belly, the other comes up to cup his jaw, gentle at first, before your fingers move to caress his throat, and you press yourself against him.

“If you get yourself killed, I’ll kick your ass,” you whisper, lips inches from his as you press firmer against his throat. He grins, and sighs, the sound content and syrupy and so fucking into it, leaning up, to meet your lips with his, to feel the pressure on his neck just a little more.

And you bite, and you scratch, and you ride him on the kitchen island. The location is new, but the situation isn’t; once he’d discovered the righteous, sexual fury you’d been bottling up, he’d been more than happy to let you unleash it on him. Not to say that he didn’t give as good as he got; there’s been several times he’s had you swearing a blue streak, seeing stars, desperate and blissed out in equal measure.

But then there’s your dominant moments, the mean streak, and the teasing, the sting of your nails and your teeth and the way you push him around, into the mattress, against the wall without hesitation, and that he covets. No-one else is allowed to see you like that. To be tied up or blindfolded or or punished or pushed around, at your mercy, it’s as close to Heaven as he’s ever felt on Earth, because he knows without a shadow of a doubt that your heart is kind, that you’d never really hurt him in a way he wouldn’t like.

You make him feel safe.

And it’s not just the sex, you’re never dismissive of ideas or suggestions, seemingly always ready to help if he ever needs it, rather than judgmental. It makes him want to be there for you too.

He wants to be better for you.

Which is kind of terrifying to consider.

“I love you,” he tells you in the shower, in the afterglow, soft, pausing where he had been washing your back where you couldn’t reach. It wasn’t the first time he’d said it, but he felt like he needed you to hear them.

“Love you too,” you say around a yawn, though the words are as genuine as they’d always been coming from you, and you lean back against him, leaning your head against his cheek in a moment of quiet intimacy. You try to kiss him like this, but turns your face directly into the shower, and end up spluttering and breaking the moment.

Colson chuckles softly, stepping back and pulling you with him, out of the stream of water and into his arms so he could kiss you properly. You’re still giggling as you’re wiping the water from your eyes, looking at him with fond adoration. When you settle your arms around him, you quiet down and bask in the moment, his forehead coming to rest against yours, warm and safe in his embrace, sensing that, in that moment, he felt the exact same way.

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