#Today has been rougher than usual | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kujiba · 6 days

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【Go on and Love Me】

୨୧ — ꒰ male!reader | he/his prounouns | Sagau | Genshinimpact

୨୧ — ꒰ Streamer!Reader who gets sidetracked by people's donations/chats making the genshin characters feel jealous

Ft. Xiao, Wanderer, Kinich, Traveler

A/n: inspired by la2yn0va hsr fic

X I A O

(Name) happily smiled at another donation sent to him after recently completing a natlan quest

"Thanks for the 20 bits donation!"

He thanked the chat with a wide smile, the chat which was filled with people commenting every second flooding the entire screen making (Name) shift his focus to answer their questions about himself.

This cute interaction made (Name) feel warm and lovely in the inside, being able to interact with fans who admired him.

You know who wasn't happy? A dark headed male inside a screen wasn't that happy unlike (Name). Why were these people gifting you so low? Most of all why was (Name)'s attention not on him anymore?

He had to pull alot of strings to make his own crit rise up since (Name)'s luck on the Vermilion domain was absolutely dog shit.

(Name) — Hm? My favorite character in genshin?

Xiao — You called?

Xiao unintentionally blurted that out without any thoughts whatsoever, but when he did realize and saw (Name)'s confused face along with the chat going wild.

Without any choice Xiao did his idle animation to hide his face away from you, he used his mask so that Xiao won't face you for a while since he was in a very vulnerable state

(Name) — New mail? Sweet 300 primos!

(Chat) — Fr? I didn't get any new mail from hoyo yet.

(Name) — Well.. Free primos is free primos

If (Name)'s happy then he'll rest easy today. Hopefully no rumors circulate about what happened earlier.. Self aware fanfics are crazy these days.

W A N D E R E R

Wanderer stared at (Name) blankly, he was too busy thanking people with countless of donations to even realize they were still in a boss fight farming material's for upcoming characters.

Wanderer became (Name)'s fan ever since he saw him at that temporary event named 'Unreconciled Stars Event Quest The Crisis Deepens'.

Smug mf since he made (Name) hit hard pity for him. But was kind enough to give you his c1 after 140 wishes

(Chat) — Why don't you change your main (Streamer Name)?

An irk mark appears on Wanderer's face but wasn't that visible on screen.

Is this swine telling (Name) to replace him with someone else? Hard pass. He was already stolen from (Name)'s attention and now these nobody's are trying to persuade him into maining some other weak random than him.

Just so happen that (Name) spotted a chest nearby and happily went over to open it, Wanderer took this opportunity immediately

(Wanderer) — Unnecessary.

(Chat) — Is it just me or is his voice rougher than usual?

Damn right it's rougher since he just wanted to vent his anger out on any enemies on sight

The chat won't know but what he had said was directly targeted at them, if only he could say every insult known to man right now

So (Name), keep your eyes on him only and no one else, then maybe he'll make his attacks stronger if you comply

(Name) — Well to answer your question earlier chat, no I don't think I'll be changing my main anytime soon. Wanderer's pretty fun to play with.

After (Name) finished talking he took a closer look at Wanderer's face, but his eyes swore Wanderer had a tad bit of pink on his cheeks

His eyes must've been starting to break with the amount of streaming his doing

T R A V E L E R

(Name) had just began to prep for his stream of the week and now he was currently adjusting the Traveler's artifacts to try out a new build

You know what's crazy though? His builds are pretty shitty.

He has the absolute worst luck in artifacts plus in leveling up pieces, most of which usually goes to defense or HP%

But he still hits about 800k regularly with the Traveler! How could he do such thing with only 44.6% Crit rate!?

(Chat) — 1 MILLION?? (Name) are you doing hacks?

(Name) — What? No! Guess my Traveler's just really op

The Traveler is a smug motherfucker

Of course the Traveler wouldn't hit such high numbers without using a...slight adjustment to the system

Sure their pieces are pretty bad but they'll accept anything (Name) had given them! How could they just shake off his hard work on griding for their ascension and talents?

Whenever the Traveler sees (Name)'s shocked expression during the massive crit's appearing on his screen they are damn right happy and overjoyed they managed to satisfy their grace!

(Chat) — Your builds are bad af tho lolol

(Chat) — Why main the Traveler? They're a pretty bad character to main, you should go for Nuevillete or Alhaitham.

The Traveler's good mood immediately faded into dust once he saw the chats text

Are those no lifers saying that they're not fit to be (Name)'s vessel? They're the most perfect one!

What could Nuevillete or whatever character have that they don't? Could they switch elements? Don't think so

If they wanted bigger numbers, the Traveler will show them big numbers all right, if you want them to hit 10 million they're gonna make it happen with just one click

(Name) — Thanks for the suggestion chat but I'm going to stick with the Traveler, I'm already wayyy too attached

The Traveler's mood once again took a 360 and smiled softly at what (Name) said to them, their stomachs fluttering with delight

(Name) is attached to them? No other compliment or praise could ever reach what the Traveler was feeling at the very moment

Their grace! Oh their grace... If only they could just grab onto you and drag you here where you rightfully belong

K I N I C H

Kinich is an upcoming playable character but many in the genshin community have fallen head over heels for him

Yet he couldn't careless about them, after all just being near (Name)'s presence even though it's just by the Traveler's vessel already makes him nice and comfortable

(Name) — Day 10 of saving up for Kinich let's goo

(Chat) — Woah already 200 wishes? You're quick man

(Name) — Can't help it lmao, Kinich seems fun to play and he's really pretty!

(Chat) — He seem's boring though

(Chat) — Dude the dialouge is slightly glitching wtf

The dialouge's glitching is caused by Kinich's embarrassment and rage, he was previously just about to talk till he heard (Name) sing praises about him! How could he not accidentally stutter and mess up the dialouge!?

But on the other hand, the hell did that person meant by he was boring? He wasn't even released yet! This caused Kinich to panic mentally if whether or not you'll change your mind about pulling for him

He stared at you from the screen, clenching his fists tighter by the second. Just a small bit more... Just one more step and he'll be released, then he could really be by your side now.

(Name) — Aw man, hold on chat I gotta pause the stream to fix this glitching

(Name) eventually had to exit the game to try and see what the problem was with his device or if it was overheating again

Meanwhile Kinich was still standing there re-adjusting his thoughts about what just happened. His feelings were all a mixed bag at this point, he sighed rubbing his temples slowly

Ajaw eventually came to his side while looking at him weirdly like he had done something wrong

(Ajaw) — Wow.. Just wow

(Kinich) — Shut up...

To rightfully apologized the system eventually sent 10 wishes in (Name)'s game mail which he was confused at first but eh, more wishes for c6 knich!

Once he becomes playable Kinich would definitely spoil (Name) with high numbers and crit's. He would just have to deal with Ajaw's yapping in the meantime..

So don't get distracted over what those 'Chat' people say about him!

A/n: likes and reblogs are appreciated! Have a nice day(ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ

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darnell-la · 10 days

Note

Could you write something Logan x reader where she uses a safe word? Like usually she is fine and enjoys the rougher play but for whatever reason she is overwhelmed or gets scared. Maybe she is embarrassed or feels bad for it because she doesn’t want him to blame himself or something

note: our most active author's birthday was yesterday, so we’ve been pretty busy. we apologize for the gap in our posting but trust me, we have a lot of posts coming. stay tuned!

btw, I gave you guys a lil tease at the end…

———

Today has been a long day of teaching for y/n. She hoped to come home and rest, but Logan also had a bad day. Usually, when he does, he needs to kiss, feel, or be in y/n to relax.

“I’ve missed you all day. Damn kids always pushin’ my buttons,” Logan spoke low in the crook of y/n’s neck as his hips slowly moved.

“You just take all of my stress away, baby. Love you so much,” Logan growled, now snapping his hips. He loved the feeling of her growing wet underneath him. He loved her so much.

Y/n let out a small and soft moan, enjoying the pleasure, but she still felt off. She hadn’t told Logan she wanted a break today, because the man looked more stressed than usual.

“You sound so beautiful, baby. Can’t get enough,” the man rolled his hips in the right spot, getting him close to his climax.

As he was thrusting, he realized y/n hadn’t come yet. “C’mon, baby. Cum on me. Wanna feel you,” the ma buried his face into her neck to bite down a bit, just how she liked it, but right now, she felt off.

“Fuck, baby, c’mon! C’mon!” The man growled, snapping his hips at a fast and hard pace. “L-Logan,” y/n stuttered, feeling the pleasure but more pain since her body was working against her.

“Yes, baby, that’s it. That’s it!” Logan placed one hand next to Y/n’s head and used the other to grip her waist, pulling her body into his thrust.

“S-Stop,” y/n begged low, not knowing if she should stop the man, or let him relax. “Ssh, baby — So fuckin’ close,” the man said as his cock twitched in her.

Y/n tried keeping herself together, knowing this would only last several more thrusts, but her eyes began to tear.

“R-Red,” y/n said low, instantly, making Logan slow his hips down. “Red!” Y/n cried out. Logan quickly pulled out of y/n and pushed himself off of the bed.

Logan went to speak, but he cut himself off after seeing y/n curl up on their shared bed. He was afraid he did something wrong. He didn’t know if he should comfort her or stay back.

“Bub?” Logan asked, voice soft so he wouldn’t alarm her. “Baby? A-Are you okay?” He asked as he slowly crawled on the bed to look over her curled body.

“Y-Yes, I just need time,” Y/n said, shutting her eyes tighter in embarrassment. How could she stop her own husband as he got closer to finishing, just because she had a bad day at work.

“O-Okay, sweetheart, just- I’m here if you need anything, okay?” He asked as y/n slowly turned around. “No, no, don’t leave. I-I didn’t mean it,” Y/n said as she rubbed her tears away.

“Just a bad day at work. It’s nothing serious, so we can continue-“ Logan cut her off before she could continue. “Nah uh, we’ll continue tomorrow. Let’s just relax for right now, okay?” He said as she went to pull y/n down to lay with him, but she refused.

“No, no, I’m fine! I swear, we can keep going. I-It’s not that serious-“ Before she could continue again, he got her off. “It is serious if you’re shouting safe words, y/n,” Logan said.

Y/n stayed silent at his tone, not knowing how to respond.

“Baby, if you’re not down to make love, you gotta tell me. I see you every day, almost all day. I can take a little break to just lay and look into your pretty eyes,” Logan sat up and rubbed y/n’s wet cheek.

“I know, it’s just-“ y/n was cut off again. “No! No, I don’t want to hear it. C’mere and lay down, before I get upset. Mhmkay?” The man said as he laid back again, waiting for her to do the same, and so she did.

“I’m not relaxed unless you are, princess. Need my baby fully in the mood when I touch her. No exceptions. No matter how much I need to taste you,”

“But, I want you to finish,” y/n said, looking up at the man who she knew needed to release. “Baby, don’t worry about me. I can live until tomorrow or whenever you feel better,” the man said, but it was hard to ignore his hard-on against her body as they lay together.

“C-Can I watch you? I just don’t feel like doing anything, you know? But I can watch you,” she said, feeling a bit awkward, but she couldn’t lie and say she didn’t want to satisfy her man a little tonight.

“Baby, I think you should rest-“ This time, before he could dish, y/n cut him off. “Please, baby? You were so close,” Y/n said as she dragged her hand up his long and thick shaft.

“Fuck,” the man breathed out, feeling his coco twitch instantly. He was painfully hard and leaking out of his tip worse than she’d ever seen before. If he didn’t cum now, he would’ve been in his sleep.

“Fine, but don’t touch me anymore, baby. Feels too good, and I want you to rest,” Logan said as he removed her hand and replaced it with his own.

Logan began fishing his cock slowly, stroking her leftover wetness on his cock to make his hand glide smoother.

“Mhm hm,” Logan tried holding his moan in, feeling a bit off that he was the only one moaning, but when he looked to the side to see y/n’s eyes lust over him storming himself, he let them out.

“Fuck, baby — Not even touchin’ me and I feel like I’m goin’ crazy for you,” Logan said in between his grunts. Y/n placed a hand on his lower stomach, teasing him even after he said to now to uh her anymore.

“What did I say, princess? D-Don’t touch me. Just relax,” he said, but she ignored him and slightly scratched at his skin. “Augh fuck,” the man let out, hips fucking upwards as he felt himself near.

Logan’s feet curled, as his legs pointed in-word, letting y/n know he was right there. “That’s it, baby,” Y/n said, and that was it for Logan.

Logan groaned loudly, fist staying in place as his grip tightened around himself. Cum shot out of him and painted all over his thighs, abs, chest, and y/n’s hands and arms.

Y/n talked the man through his high, trying something new as she stroked his face. Logan accepted it all, softly placing his hand on her hand as he shook and caught his breath.

Logan never knew someone could make him feel this crazy with minimal touch. He’s fallen harder than he was before.

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luvfy0dor · 23 days

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Bites or Hickeys? Various x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

Warnings; suggestive, obv biting, hickeys, perhaps ooc,

Fandoms; Bungo Stray Dogs, Death Note, Attack on Titan, Obey Me

A/n; ogs remember when I was purple, but anyways happy 1 year of writing to me!! I'm super proud of my account and I'm so insanely thankful for all the love I've received and acquaintances/friends I've made. Thank you guys so much <3 even tho there have been times where I really thought I'd quit, I kept going and I'm so grateful I did

Bites ★

The feeling of their teeth sinking into your skin makes them feel almost electric, as if a spark has been lit inside their chest and cause an explosion of carnal desire. Some are softer with it, kissing and licking over the imprints of their teeth to soothe the mild pain it might have caused, but others just bite and move on to the next unoccupied spot. They can't help how desperate they are for you and to prove to themselves that they have you, and their affectionate gestures prove that theyre yours. After all, they'd never do the same for anyone else. Ofcourse after the heat of the moment died down, whether they were gentler or rougher earlier, they'd kiss over the indents and whisper soft praises and murmurs about whatever came to mind. Moments like those were their favorites- second to the actual rendezvous, ofcourse.

• RANPO, Dazai, Akutagwa, Kaji, Twain, Sasha, Zeke, Pieck, MELLO, Belphie, Satan, Leviathan

Hickeys ★

They prefer giving hickeys, sometimes because they think it's classier than biting, and others because they don't want to hurt you by biting too hard. They will, however, make you look just as ravaged, littering your pretty skin with dark, organically shaped marks. Their hands pin your wrists above your head while they suck and lick at your neck, humming as if they were enjoying a meal made by a world-class chef. Their eyes would flicker up to meet yours every now and again, lips curling upwards as they shove one of their knees between yours, allowing you to grind against their thigh while they make quick work of undoing your top and belt. They're far more shameless when they're leaving them along your thighs, so shameless that you almost look like you were bruised- no one was going to see them anyways, so why should they be modest? They'd be lying if they said being able to claim you in such a way didnt turn them on. ♡⁠˖

• fyodor, Sigma, Kunikida, Ango, Mori, Fitzgerald, Fukuzawa, Margaret, Poe, Erwin, Mikasa, Reiner, Historia, Lucifer

Both! ★

They simply can't choose, whether adorning your neck and thighs in dark, dotted half-moons or burgundy splotches, they can't get enough of you. They usually leave them in concealed places, but sometimes it's so difficult to not mark you up all over, especially when you're writhing underneath them and clinging to them like a vice because their lips and mouth just feel that good. You'd intertwines your fingers in their hair, pulling them closer or tugging them away when you're lying breathlessly in the wrinkled and messy sheets. They'd ask you if it's too much, rubbing circles into the sides of your hips with a wide, cheeky grin. God, you looked so good underneath them, all bashful and shy with your eyes half lidded and your lips slightly agape. Your labored breaths and quiet sighs were like music to their ears, so really, how could they choose just one when they could give you both and double the fun? ♡⁠˖

• NIKOLAI, Chuuya, yosano, bram, Oda, Atsushi, Lucy, Mushitaro, Tecchou, Tachihara, Eren, jean, Connie, Armin, Hange, maybeee levi, Ymir, Matt, Matsuda, Misa, im torn between both and neither for L, Mammon, Asmo, Beel

Neither ★

They prefer not to leave a physical mark on you, but rather give you a good time to remember them by. A mark will fade quicker than a memory. ♡⁠˖

• Nathaniel Hawthorne, Light, Jouno

A/n: hey chat I didn't realize today was my anniversary so I kinda speedran the characters, it might not be SUIUUPER in character so I'm sorry 😞

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chaos-in-deepspace · 4 months

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LNDS: Bongo Butts | 18+

I should be going to bed but I forgot to do laundry so here I am, writing more content that nobody asked for. Just like motorboating them...when I see them butts. Just. WHAM BAM. Thanks for coming to my TED talk. Also hope you know I had to research different types of dump trucks for this fic.

Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+. Warnings: Ass Slapping, Crack Fic, Playing their asses like they're bongos, Zayne's lost sanity, Rafayel is scandalized as per usual, you mentally scar Raf, Xavier is confused as per usual, but is he confused?, he does get you back tho

Blog Information | Masterlist

Xavier

Xavier really did need to be more careful around you. He was the one who wanted you to date him first, in your defense. He chose you. And you wouldn't let a single day go by that you didn't prove why that was a horrible decision on his end. At the very least, he could claim that he was never bored with you around.

Today was supposed to be a lazy day. You two had off from all missions and were relaxing around the apartment since it was too damn hot to actually go outside. It also happened to be laundry day for Xavier, so he was dressed in his workout attire while his uniforms were being deep cleaned from all the dirt that accumulated on them during his missions.

Those shorts. They were so damn short. You'd even call it slutty because hot damn. His ass was just right there. It was staring at you. Hypnotizing you like it was a snake charmer. Your hands were already twitching in a grabby motion as you stared directly at those perfectly rounded globes on his backside. His beautiful bubble butt.

Xavier could feel your stare burning into him as he looked over his shoulder. He was just sun bathing by the window, laying on his stomach. So vulnerable to your upcoming attack.

"Something you need?" Damn, he already sounded suspicious. It might've been by how you were practically drooling with your hands up, ready to grab at him. It was a slight give away. He should've been more prepared though, because you lunged at him in that moment.

He only had time to turn slightly when you pushed him back on his stomach, sitting on his back to pin him down. Your hands took a fistful of his ass before you began hitting them with little force. Just watching them jiggle with every little slap of your hands.

You were cackling like a maniac as you continued your assault until he managed to maneuver you off of him. You were laughing, your cheeks flushed as you almost teared up. His entire face was red as he stared at you in horror. Then you saw a flash in his eyes and you knew you were done for.

He grabbed you, pulling you onto his lap. Then you felt a harsh slap at your ass, making you squeal. It was so much rougher than you had hit him. He stared at your back side and did it again.

"I can see why you found this so entertaining. I think I'll play with this for now."

"Unhand me you creatine!"

"I think not, if I let you go, who knows what else you'll do to me."

Zayne

Anyone who has ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on Akso's best Cardiac Surgeon knew that one thing was a pure fact. He had an ass. His doctor's coat did a good job concealing it, but he couldn't wear it all the time. You had even noticed a few nurses who would glance down at him when he passed them in the hallway.

It was something you knew very well about Zayne, and something the man seemed oblivious to. The man didn't just have a dump truck as a rear end, it was a dump trailer. That shit could keep a family fed for an entire year. It was so perfect in every way. You could grab onto one cheek with both hands and you still wouldn't be able to capture the entire thing.

Yet for some reason, Zayne had no idea just how badly you needed his ass. You would often times find yourself staring at it when you hung out, had an appointment, or were just lounging at the apartments. It plagued your thoughts. You were losing sleep over this. It wasn't good for your health.

"Zayne..." You said as you relaxed on the couch next to him. You two were catching up on a TV show that you started well over a month ago but hadn't had time to really enjoy it.

"Yes, did you need something?" Oh how sweet he was, always looking out for you.

"Yes actually...can you lay down on your stomach for me? I wanna do something." You said, knowing that this man would do just about anything you asked. He eyed you for a moment, contemplating if he wanted to play this game with you.

"Might I inquire as to why?"

"That's for me to know, and you to find out."

Zayne took one more moment before giving in. He adjusted his position, laying down on his stomach just as you had asked. You decided to be subtle, leaning over his form and placing your hands on his shoulders at first. You gently caressed the skin there, massaging the muscles through his shirt as you slowly made your way down to the small of his back.

There it was. The prize. The holy grail of all asses. It was ripe for the taking as you looked over to see Zayne's closed eyes as he relaxed under your touch. You didn't hesitate. Your hands slapping down on his ass and grabbing it roughly.

His eyes shot open as he looked over at you. You licked your lips as you began gently slapping the flesh, watching the bounce as though it were made of jelly. It was a sight to behold and you couldn't help yourself. You had seconds before Zayne reacted and pulled your grubby little hands off him.

So you leaned your head in and bit down. His pants managed to cushion him from the force of your bite, but he sure as hell felt it. He sat up and grabbed you under the arms like a cat, stopping you in your tracks as you stared at him.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Playing with your nice ass."

"My butt is not a play thing."

You paused for a moment, eyes trailing down to the front of his pants, "If you aren't gonna let me slap your ass, can I play with your dick like it's a Bop-It?"

You watched Zayne go through five stages of grief. He sighed as he grabbed a blanket next to him, wrapping your entire body like a burrito so your limbs were no longer effective. He then sat back down on the couch with his legs open and placed you between, holding you tightly to his chest.

"I'm begging you, please be quiet for once and let's finish this show."

Rafayel

He should've known you were up to something if your gaze was anything to go off of. You had zeroed in on him the moment you had come over. Even during your little date as you two explored Linkon together, he knew something was up. Your not so subtle glances in his direction couldn't be considered innocent.

If only he knew why you were staring so hardcore. He had gotten a new pair of pants, or at least you assumed they were new. You were pretty sure you'd remember them with how good he looked at the moment. It was tight on him, accentuating his ass perfectly. You were pretty sure if you riled him it would also perfectly outline another aspect of him.

Still, you had a mission. Rafayel didn't know it yet, but the moment you had caught a glimpse of him this morning, you knew what had to be done. His muffins needed to be squished. His plump little cushions had to be properly admired and worshipped. You would be the one to happily give them the attention they deserved. An ass sculpted by the gods themselves were staring at you literally all day.

You closed the door to his home slowly, turning over to him. He was already heading to the living room. You slowly stalked behind him, and he could feel you were up to no good.

"Something caught your interest? I know I look good, but not even you normally stare at me this much."

"I just think you look particularly handsome today is all." As does his ass. You couldn't say that yet though, he would realize what your plans were if you verbalized it too early. Like a cat stalking a mouse, you followed him until he was in the living room. The moment he was by the couch you took action.

You rushed behind him and pressed down on the small of his back, making him stumble forward. He grabbed the edge of the couch, his body hunched over. Rafayel turned just in time to watch you drop down to your knees. Then he felt your hands harshly gripping his ass. Then the quick slaps in succession followed as you began laughing maniacally.

"Finally!" You said as you grabbed at them again. Rafayel finally reacted, rolling onto the couch to get away from your hands. You were practically panting as your hands twitched, "Come on Raf, lemme just squeeze em again."

"You are a psychopath." He said, hiding his ass from your view.

"I'm your psychopath though." Despite how horrified Rafayel looked, he was also amused by your antics. He grabbed at your arm, making you fall forward and your chest pressing against his own. His hands went to grab at your ass this time, squeezing them and laughing.

"You know, I think I'm seeing the appeal of this." He commented, his hands lazily hitting your ass cheeks like you had to him, although he was far more calm about it.

"See, it's amazing...now can I go back to playing with your butt? I wasn't done yet."

"I think not...although this has given me an idea. Do you mind if I paint your backside?"

"You wanna paint on my ass?"

"Perhaps."

"...I'll agree if you let me eat your-" Rafayel had never cut you off so quickly.

"Never mind."

The most accurate representation of what we're doing to these poor men. I will not be silenced. Their asses need to be slapped. And ate

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torialefay · 4 months

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Take It Like A Real Man

sub!chan x dom!afab!reader 🔞

✨ synopsis: Chris has been a consistent dom throughout your entire relationship, which is why you are very surprised when he asks for one of your biggest sexual fantasies to come true.

✨ request from: @chrizzztopherbang

✨ warnings: degradation, offensive language, anal play, pegging, probably some more?

You’d been toying with Chan for the past several weeks. With the way that he made you feel, how could you not?

You loved your boyfriend, don’t get me wrong. And sex with him was amazing every time. But maybe you just wanted to… spice things up a bit?

Chan was the most dominant guy you’d ever been with in the bedroom. Choking you, spanking you, and pounding the absolute shit out of you almost every day. You felt so small underneath him. Like a toy to him. But lately… you thought about what it would be like for him to be a toy for you.

He’d been looking too good recently. Walking around in his slutty little tank tops and his sweatpants. His jaw was looking sharper than usual and you could tell his biceps were getting bigger day by day. You’d almost shudder from excitement every time he came up to hug you from behind, feeling the outline of his bulge graze you ever so slightly, though you knew that wasn’t his intention. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly one thing, but there was something (everything) about him that was driving you insane.

So you decided to… test the waters. You began to initiate the make-outs more. You decided you’d be the one to climb on top of him more. The first to grind into him and take charge. To push him down and hold him there while you rode him on top. And the more you got comfortable, you felt like you could be rougher too, lightly choking him and whispering dirty things to him.

And by his reaction, you could tell that he fucking loved it. However, by the end of the night, he always ended up taking over. He’d still fuck you into oblivion with your face in the pillow until you couldn’t breathe. No matter what you did to him, he was a dom after all.

One day after work, a bright sign caught your attention. You’d driven past it a million times without a second thought. But today, something about it felt different. The sign for a sex shop.

You figured it couldn’t hurt to go in and look around. Maybe buy a few things that looked fun. You strolled through each section, getting some essentials like lube and sex toy cleaner. But as you walked past, the bondage and sub sections caught your eye. One thing specifically. A strap on harness with a vibrator built in for your clit.

You couldn’t help but be curious. And let’s be real, Chan would never want that… Would he? He’d always ended up giving into his dom tendencies no matter how much you offered up.

‘It would be stupid to buy it,’ you said to yourself, pulling your arm back in. ‘Just a waste of money.’

After you’d stepped only a few feet away, you were already stopped by another product you’d only ever seen online. A cock ring.

You took the box into your hands, reading it over and flipping it around to get a good look. It didn’t look too intimidating. Nothing too scary.

‘Now this… maybe this I could work with,’ you grinned.

You balanced the box in your hands along with your other products. You turned on your heels to exit the section and head towards the register before you could be tempted by anything else that you saw. Everything that Chan wouldn’t want.

You walked only a few feet though before you stopped. Your mind couldn’t kick it out. The strap on. How hot Chan would look under you. If he was able to take it all and give in to you. How fucking beautiful he would look moaning for you and getting so overstimulated that he couldn’t stand it.

Fogging your head, you decided to just buy the damn thing. ‘So what if I lose some money?’ you thought. A girl can dream.

A few months had gone by with a pretty similar routine. You’d often take the lead at the beginning, and about halfway through, Chan would finish it off. That is, IF Chan didn’t initiate it first and set you up from the beginning.

But today felt a bit different.

Chris had just gotten home looking (surprise) fucking delicious. It had been a late night studio session, so you could see the tiredness in his eyes. Which is why you were startled when he seemed to actually be in a great mood.

“Hey baby!” he said, coming up to squeeze you in a hug on the couch and nuzzling his head against your cheek. So cute. So different from his tendencies in the bedroom.

“Well someone’s happy!” you giggled back. “Good day today?”

He looked at you with excited eyes. “We finally got done with a track we’d been stuck on for weeks. I think it turned out so good. This is really one of the best songs I think we’ve made,” he smiled.

You gave him a tight squeeze. “That’s great baby. I’m so proud of you.” You leaned in to place a soft peck to his nose.

He blushed a bit as he said thank you.

On instinct, you scooted yourself to the side of the couch a bit. “Wanna lay your head down?” you asked, patting your lap.

You knew this was Chan’s favorite. Laying his head on you and letting you brush your fingers through his curls, massaging his scalp as you went. It was the most amazing way for him to destress. But at this moment, when he got it and he wasn’t even stressed? Well that was an even higher rush for him.

He grinned ear to ear as he moved to lie on his back and place his head perfectly in the middle of your lap, giving you access to him right underneath you.

You continued to talk about both of your days. The best and the worst parts. Apparently the boys were annoying all day, so having the good session tonight was exactly what Chan needed. You talked to him about the song, with him teasing you and telling you he wasn’t gonna show you yet.

“You know that’s not fair!” you protested, trying to pout. “Come on pleaseeeee.”

“No, I’m not gonna show you,” he teased again, shaking his head cutely.

You began to run your hands more softly and slower through his hair, hoping it would coerce him a bit. Let him know that you would take your time with him.

“It’s okay,” you smirked. “You’re gonna give in anyways.” Did you sound like a know-it-all? Yes. But did you sound like a cute know-it-all? Also yes.

Chris smiled. “Not this time. I’m putting my foot down.” He innocently raised one leg on the couch just to push it down sharply as if he were fake stomping.

“Oh really?” you started, dragging your voice down. You began to slowly glide one hand from his head, down his neck, and then to comfortably rub across his pecs, massaging them at your own pace. “I’ll do anything,” you plead with big eyes, trying your best to seduce him into it.

Chan put a look on his face to act like he was puzzled. “Aaanything?”

“Say the word-“ you leaned down to press a short kiss to his mouth, “and it’s yours.”

You took this moment to rub down further, down his abs, tracing lines along the way, until you got just above his waistband. You teased around a bit, dragging your finger along as if contemplating what to do with it.

You waited patiently as Chan wiggled underneath you. Observing his reactions, you realized how blushed he was.

“Is this what you want?” you asked softly, moving a few fingers past the band of his boxers. You didn’t want to touch him- yet. Just wanted to watch him and see what he would do.

“Mhmm,” he huffed out, repositioning his head so that he could see better.

After massaging around him and around his thighs, you brought your hand up to your mouth. You spit in it as best you could before lowering it back to it’s original position.

This time, you snaked your hand straight down to where his dick was. Almost completely hard already without you having to touch it. You decided you’d be bold.

“Oh, is this what you like baby? You like this?” you smiled menacingly as you rubbed up and down, covering his cock with the saliva.

Chan was embarrassed. You could tell. Was it because he didn’t like it but didn’t have the heart to tell you? Or was it because he was enjoying this more than he thought he should… you being in charge of him. Talking to him like this.

From how hard his dick was underneath your hand, you were willing to bet it was the second one.

You let yourself stroke a little bit harder, making sure to swirl the tip of your thumb around his opening. He hissed slightly at the feeling.

“What is it baby? Feels too good? You can’t even talk to me?” You teased.

Chan just wiggled in response, bucking up into your hand for more contact.

You let him go on for a few seconds before abruptly pulling your hand away. Now was the time to try.

“If you don’t tell me what you want, I can’t give you anything baby,” you smiled, knowing how flustered he was.

Chan relaxed his head as he laid it back, closing his eyes and letting himself catch his breath. After a few deep breaths, he gave a hesitant sigh. You watched as he began to fidget with his fingers. Knobby and lacing around each other, they were almost shaking. He looked… mad?

With one final suck of air, he sat himself up. You didn’t quite know how to react.

“I’m sorry,” you said impulsively as he turned his body toward yours. You were a bit frantic trying to fix things. “I didn’t mean to push you into doing something you don’t like. I know you’d rather be in control, and I like that too. Let’s go back to that, okay?”

“No, it’s not-“ Chan cleared his throat. “It’s not that.” He cracked his knuckles while looking down. “I need to talk to you about something first… I’ve wanted to talk to you about it for a while, but I guess I’ve just been nervous about what you’ll say and how you’ll react and what you’ll think of me, and just, I don’t know. Maybe I’m making it a big deal for nothing. I just don’t want you to think differently of me if you’re not into it and maybe if it’s weird to you. I don’t want you to feel like you’re being pressured into anything. And I don’t want you to think it’s not enough for me if we don’t do it because I do love the way that we are now. Things have been so great and I don’t want any of this to mess us up-“

“Babe, you’re rambling,” you stared at him. “Whatever it is, it’s okay. You can tell me.”

He held his breath for a moment before continuing. “Promise you won’t judge?”

“I pinky promise.” You reached your hand to rest on top of his, intertwining your pinky finger underneath his own.

He let his pinky grip to it tightly. “Well ever since you’ve been getting, you know, more involved in starting things with me, I have really enjoyed it. But you know it’s kind of just instinct for me to take over. I can’t really help it, you know. Just when you look so good, it gets too hard for me to stop myself…” He waited for a moment before trying to start again. “But I’ve been seeing stuff… Like porn, I mean," he cleared his throat sheepishly. "And that combined with the way you’ve been acting lately, I think- I think I’d like to try something. But it’s kind of weird and nothing we’ve ever talked about, so you can absolutely say no. I mean, I may have even ended up hating it, so maybe it’s best we didn’t even have this conversation and we just forget about it so-“.

“Christopher! Please for the love of God just tell me. What do you want to try?” You’d spoken louder than you’d meant to.

Fidgeting with his hands again, he finally admitted it. “I want to let you be more dominant. And I want you to be in control the whole time.”

“That’s it? You’re embarrassed about that?” you almost cackled over how ridiculous it was for him to make such a big deal about that. It wasn’t like you weren’t slowly working your way there.

“Well, no. I also wanted to try… maybe, I don't know... pegging? Like if you were pegging me. If it’s weird, we don’t have to, but I’ve been th-“ he got cut off by the sound of you.

“Oh my gosh!!!” you sprung up from your seat and quickly made your way to the closet. There, at the back, you’d had your secret stash hidden away for months. You grabbed the bag filled with lube, the strap on, and the cock ring. You squealed as you ran back into the living room where your boyfriend was waiting with a confused face. He squinted his eyes at you, waiting for you to go on.

“Okay SO,” you started, voice full of pep, “a little while back, I was just shopping around and, well, I saw these and thought maybe one day, I’d be able to convince you to let us try.” You smiled as you pulled out both the strap on and the cock ring at the same time, letting the lube in the bag hit the ground.

Chris started laughing, not able to believe his eyes. “Hahaha, no wayyy,” he carried his raised voice.

“I’ve been waiting for this,” you teased, swaying your hips as you walked up closer to him. As you took a seat on the couch, you snaked your arms around his neck. You gave him a few quick pecks on his lips before smirking and running one hand down his torso as slowly as you could, letting him enjoy it. You leaned in beside his ear, letting hot breath hit it for a moment. “We need to move this to the bedroom. But you’re gonna be good and listen to me this time, okay?”

You felt Chan shiver and get shy all of a sudden. “Okay,” a tiny grin appeared as he crossed his hands in his lap.

You stood first, holding your hand out for him to grab onto. You quickly bent to retrieve your lube and new toys. You gently pulled Chan’s hand along to follow as you made your way to the bedroom. As you walked, you were silently thankful that you’d already taken everything out of the box to clean it.

You gingerly tossed everything onto the bed before turning to wrap your arms around Chan’s neck again. As you found his lips, you used your position as an advantage to pull his neck down and his face closer to yours.

Chan scared to put his hands on you, you pulled back, smiling, feeling like you’d won already. “You can touch me now, Channie.”

He blushed before resting his veiny hands on your waist. This time, you were sure you would attach your lips to his permanently. As you kissed, you bit and tugged and pulled as Chan gave into you. He let out little moans as you kept pulling him in closer, devouring every inch of his plump lips. You ravaged until you couldn’t stand it anymore.

With a dramatic gasp, rushing air into your tight lungs, you pulled back. You stared into his face. It was so nervous yet excited. It was the most endearing thing you’d ever seen. You smirked as you watched him groveling.

“Clothes off. Now.” you instructed.

You watched as Chan immediately was humbled. Without hesitation, he stripped himself of his top, revealing his rough abs, which he seemed to be shy about all of a sudden. He covered himself by crossing his arms slightly as he pulled his pants down and stepped out of them.

You stood, running your eyes up and down his exposed body, cocking one brow. You knew he felt so exposed like this.

“Underwear?” you ordered more than asked.

He looked so small as he hunched over to remove them, revealing his already semi-hard cock.

You smiled, obviously staring at his dick. “You’re that excited already?”

He gulped, not knowing what to say. Standing meekly, hoping you wouldn’t make him continue with words.

“It’s cute you’re this riled up for me baby,” you said, walking in closer and quickly grabbing his dick in your hands. You began to stroke it quickly, dry, with no warning.

He hissed in response, contorting his face.

“I think we could do better though, huh? Pull my clothes off of me,” you demanded.

He hurriedly reached to the hem of your shirt to pull it up and over your head. He hooked around for the bra straps next, running his arms around your back as quickly as he could. He didn’t want to disappoint you so soon.

You swatted at his arms. “Did I say you could see my tits? So fucking greedy… Take off my shirt and pants ONLY. I don’t want to have to say it again.”

If the instantaneous stiffening of Chan’s dick was any indication of how much he was enjoying this, then he must have been on goddamn cloud nine.

He whimpered slightly, moving his hands back slowly and down to the area just below your waist. He swiftly undid the buttons on your jeans and lowered himself to be able to remove them from you fully.

“Stay,” you instructed.

You couldn’t have loved this sight more. Your boyfriend bent for you, looking up with doe eyes. Right at the level of your pussy. What could be more perfect?

You placed a hand in his hair, harshly pushing his head forward until it was almost touching you.

“Lick. Now. Like you fucking mean it.” Your voice came out bitchier than you thought possible. But that was the point.

Chan hurriedly leaned in to run his tongue along the outside of your clothed pussy, starting from bottom to top. The slight sensation felt almost too good after all of the pent up tension you’d been feeling. You watched the way his tongue moved slowly, up and down. If he wasn’t in this position, you’d think he was teasing you. But with your hand resting on the back of his head, you knew you’d have full control. And he knew that too.

Chan moved his tongue suddenly, intently, to the side of your pussy, toying at the fabric of your underwear. It was like he was trying to move it out of the way with the force of his tongue only.

“Keep going,” you instructed, releasing a light moan. “Lick underneath them and keep your eyes up here.”

Chris was quick to follow your instructions, swiftly locking his eyes into yours. You smiled at him- encouragement that he was doing so well for you.

You shivered as he planted his cheek into the side of you pussy, letting his tongue run along underneath the material of the the underwear.

“Taste that baby. You’re gonna taste all of me. Take it in your mouth,” you directed.

You observed the look on his face as he bit the underwear up and into his mouth, inhaling deeply. His eyes shut for a moment, taking in the experience. It looked utterly blissful for him.

“Eyes! I’m not going to fucking tell you again!” you yelled, yanking his head back so that he’d look up at you.

Big, shiny eyes flashed onto yours. Apologetic, but loving. After all of this. He loved this. He relished in this. Nothing could beat this.

“Back to to my pussy. Open your mouth and stick your tongue out,” you ordered him, keeping one hand on his hair as the other reached down to move your underwear out of the way.

Chan did as instructed, which earned him a pleased smile and a ramming of his head into your pussy. You quickly guided his head up and down, soaking his nose and tongue in your juices. The combination hit just the right spot.

You froze as you felt the euphoric combination. His nose hitting you clit with his tongue poked perfectly into your entrance.

“Right there, holy shit,” you moaned, fucking his face in this position. You held his head steady as you bounced yourself up and down on him. The feeling was almost indescribable.

You felt him trying to pull back slightly, needing to search for air.

“You don’t breathe unless I tell you to fucking breathe!” you shouted, pushing his face in harder.

You watched him sink down slightly, his body creeping lower to the floor. You used this to your advanced, moving your hips with a quickening speed across his face.

Going and going and going until you almost couldn’t anymore.

Once you were almost satisfied, you bunched Chan’s hair in your hand and yanked him off of you. His eyes scrunched closed as he heaved in heavily, gasping and panting heavily.

“Finally put that big fucking nose to good use, huh? You liked that, didn’t you? Burying your nose so deep in my fucking cunt? You’re such a dirty boy.”

You used the hand that was once holding your underwear to rest on his chin, spreading your thumb to hold one side of his face and the rest of your fingers on the other. You squeezed his cheeks hard, making his lips puff out as you lowered yourself to get closer to his level.

You leaned in to plant a kiss to his waiting lips. You slid your hand down to release his face and instead take hold around his neck. Your other hand laced around to take residence in the hair at the back of his head.

Now, you kissed, him deeply, throwing yourself into him and making him take it all. He threw his tongue into your mouth, letting out soft mewls as you bit back.

You were so lost in the kiss that your head began to spin, moving his head in every direction to gain access to new parts of his mouth.

You began to stand, clutching Chan’s neck to pull him up with you, never disconnecting his lips from yours. The smell of saliva and your juices took over as you each buried yourselves in. Locking into each other as you were both fully erect.

You each tangled your hands around each other as you stood for a long few moments, enjoying the passion between the two of you before you started toying with him once again.

Once the air was rushing out of your head, you pulled yourself back harshly. You scanned over his beautiful face, drenched in liquid. His lips were red and puffy, his eyes clouded over, but chipper as if awaiting what was to come next.

‘This fucking boy,’ you thought.

You quickly spit onto your hand as you hastened your hand down to grab Chan’s dick again. Jerking quickly, you could tell by his face that it was completely overstimulating all too quickly. But you couldn’t help it. He just looked too cute.

He whimpered as you kept going, looking like he would lose his breath at any moment. The sounds just turned you on more.

“You can’t even handle this? Can’t handle getting your dick touched without fucking blowing? You better not fucking cum Christopher,” you demanded.

Chan’s face contorted, puffing out his cheeks and throwing his head back to stifle any moans that would have come out. His face was visibly red. His abs began to twitch as you stroked him even harder. Faster. You knew he wouldn’t be able to last anymore. His dick peaked, as hard as you’d ever felt it. A new sensation had been unlocked. A few more pumps and he’d be over.

As suddenly as you started, you jerked your hand back and off of him. Below, you watched in awe as his dick was still quivering from the arousal it had been getting. Up and down, back and forth, slightly as he let out muffled whines, eyes almost tearing up.

You chuckled softly, making sure it was loud enough so that he could hear it. “You really are a subby baby, aren’t you?” you smiled deviously.

Resting a hand on his beating chest, you walked him backward until his knees undid over the bed and he was propelled down.

Wasting no time, you grabbed the brightly-colored lube bottle next to his head and squeezed it out into your hand. It was cold, which you figured would be perfect for the occasion.

You perched yourself on your knees next to Chan, reaching your hands down to begin massaging the lube onto him. He winced at the chill of your touch, but soon started to warm up as you massaged it into him. He let his eyes flutter closed as he began taking deep breaths, enjoying this small stent of peace.

“No falling asleep now,” you teased. “Wake up and put this on,” you demanded, throwing the cock ring at him.

Before he could react, the plastic-y material hit him in the chest, bouncing down to land on his torso. He propped himself up on one elbow, looking down with wide eyes and his mouth gaped.

You watched as he swallowed harshly, looking as if he was trying to find the right words. He took the toy and rotated it around in one hand, searching for an answer.

“Uhmm, I don’t-“ he started, looking defeated. “I don’t think I know how…”

“Awww, little baby can’t figure it out?” you taunted, leaning down. “Can’t wrap his pretty little brain around it? Poor thing.” You quickly jerked it from his hand.

“Watch,” you raised your voice at him, lifting your eyebrows as if to threaten him. You held the ring in your hands, coating it in the left-over, slippery lube. Pressing it down and onto the tip of his dick, it was already a tight fit, wrapping around him snuggly. You admired the way the blood rushed through, leaving the tip of him totally engorged. “Feels good already, doesn’t it?” you giggled as he let out a breath he’d been holding in, writhing and looking pitiful beneath you.

“But you can do more,” you said airily as you began working the ring down his length. He let out small moans and grunts along the way until you made it to the base of his shaft.

It was the perfect size. Just tight enough to keep him wiggling, but not too tight to stop him from experiencing the heightened sensations.

“Mmm, isn’t that better?” You smiled. “Good boy,” you praised, lowering your face to plant a slow kiss on his tip. “For now,” you jolted up. “Now flip over. I want you on your hands and knees,” you instructed.

Chan offered an overt gulp before complying with your request.

Once he’d gotten into position, you could tell he was a bit nervous. This was the most vulnerable he’d ever been with you. And a part of you questioned if he would back out now. Would he make it this far before he realized he couldn’t go through with it?

You pushed the thoughts out of your head, realizing that those were your insecurities in this, not his. And you’d make for fucking sure that he wouldn’t want to stop this.

You grasped his hips and pulled them back, arching his back slightly to get his ass higher up. Stealthily, you held onto each side, rubbing harshly before planting short smacks, leaving behind the sound of sharp skin.

A smile eased across your face as you heard Chan moan the slightest bit. Like he was trying to conceal it.

“What was that?” You smirked, landing a larger, rougher slap to one side of his ass.

His face scrunched up before sucking in sharply.

“I didn’t hear you baby. What is it? Do you need more? You need more before I can even fucking hear you?!” Your words were forceful now. Challenging.

You violently shoved his hips down more so his ass was even more prominent. One after another, you began to plant harsh slaps until his cheeks were visibly more and more red. Loud moans now escaped his lips, growing in intensity with each smack.

Chan started panting heavily, letting out a small cry that only turned you on more.

“Fucking slut,” you muttered. “Like getting spanked by your own girlfriend? Like looking like a sloppy mess for me? Not even able to shut your fucking mouth and take it like a real man?” you taunted him. Hearing Chan’s cries getting louder and louder was all the confirmation you needed.

“Because you’re not, are you?” you chuckled, pulling your hands from him. You quickly pulled the strap on towards you to shimmy inside. You clicked the button to start the vibrator as you secured yourself in place.

“No, you’re not a real man…” you continued as you placed more lube into your hand. You tried to steady yourself as the new buzzing over your clit settled in, knocking you back the slightest bit. After regaining your footing, you went on.

“You’re just a tiny little hole who wants to be used, huh? Is that right?” You rubbed the lube along the length of the dildo strapped onto you. “You just wanna be used like the fucking slut you are?”

With that, you used one hand to place another solid smack over the redness that had already been formed, while using one lubed finger to push slightly into Chan’s asshole.

An auditory moan was heard as the wind was knocked out of him, feeling a sensation he’d never known was possible. You let him adjust slightly before pulling out and pushing back in.

Chan relaxed his arms and let his face hit the mattress as you continued with your finger in him, growing faster and faster by the second.

Tiny whines of pleasure worked their way out of Chan’s throat with every stroke. He began to move his hips along with the motion, throwing his ass backward so you could reach deeper inside him.

“Ahh fuck,” he mumbled as you kept going.

“Goddamn, already cursing for me? That’s not a good sign,” you tsked. “We’re just getting started,” you smiled. Deep panting was all you received in response.

“But the baby wants more, huh? Poor little baby,” you mocked. “You’re gonna get what you get then. And you better take it all without fucking complaining.”

Suddenly, you pulled out and brought a second finger to his hole, inserting them much quicker than you’d done with the first.

Underneath you, Chan gripped the bedsheets with his fists, settling with his mouth wide open and eyes rolled back, holding in any noise he possibly could.

“Ahhh, good boy. See, it isn’t that hard, is it?” you grinned again before beginning to ram your fingers into him quicker. You worked your way up, as fast as you could before curving your fingers into him.

With that, Chan couldn’t help himself. He let out the loudest, most ungodly moan you’d ever heard. Pure ecstasy in every last ounce of breath he put out. You could tell that he was doing all he could to not scream from the pleasure.

His reaction mixed with the tingly feeling that had washed over your clit by this point, got you to the level that you just couldn’t stand it anymore.

After giving him a few more pumps with curved fingers, you pulled out, running your hand along the shaft of the dildo again. He whimpered at the loss of contact, earning him another huge smack, essentially telling him to keep quiet.

“You still can’t shut the fuck up, can you? You like being degraded like this. I never knew my boyfriend was such a fucking whore.” Another slap.

“Now,” you continued, “we’re both gonna sit here until you start acting better and ask nicely for me to put this dick inside of you. And ask like you fucking mean it.”

Chan stilled for a moment, breathing heavily as if his brain was fogged over and he couldn’t comprehend what he needed to do. Slowly, he arched his back further, pushing his ass to the perfect angle. You both sat in silence for a few moments before soft words began to slur from Chan’s mouth.

“Please… will you fuck me?” he whispered timidly, his face the brightest shade of red.

“Maybe if you’d say it loud enough that I could FUCKING hear you!” you yelled, lining yourself up to him. You impatiently let the tip of the dildo circle around his outline. You brought your hands to his waist, grabbing onto him with the most force you could muster, taking him off guard.

Chan yelped loudly at the contact. “Please baby… PLEASE will you fuck me?” he cried out in desperation.

His pleas left you with a soft smile. “See, that wasn’t too hard now was it?” you excessively teased before pulling his waist back to force him down onto the dildo.

As quickly as it filled him, you felt it too. The insane increase in the vibration of the vibrator now rubbing up to the perfect spot on your clit. You let out a harsh moan at the feeling, enjoying this more than you’d thought possible.

“Ahh fuck baby,” you spat out, pulling your hips back before snapping them back in. The pressure was too good for you to handle.

All you could hear was Chris cursing under his breath and letting out the most guttural, obscene moans you’d ever heard. Like a symphony that had just died and been resurrected, unknown that life could take form like this.

He panted heavily, writhing in the sheets as you began to plow into him, faster and faster. Your hands gripped onto him so tightly that you were sure he’d have bruises. But that’s what you wanted. You needed him to slap into you as hard as possible. You needed to feel all of it.

“I’m not gonna-“ Chan tried to get out before pausing to let out a loud whine. “Fuck,” he cried, “I’m not gonna last much longer,” he admitted lowly, ashamed that he was already so close to being on the edge.

“Yes you are,” you smacked his ass again as you thrust in. You wrapped your arms swiftly around his waist to pull his torso upright. The dildo was still resting deep inside of him as his body came up, his back pressing into your chest. You squeezed him again, making sure he was pulled taunt to you before snaking a hand up to his throat.

“You are gonna last longer because I’m fucking telling you to. Is that clear? You’re not done until I cum. Stupid fucking whore,” you threatened, directly into his ear.

Your hips snapped up, not giving him a chance to answer. He could only let out the sweetest moan you’d ever heard.

As you began humping into him, you felt that prominent tingly feeling at your core. You knew if you kept this up, your orgasm would come sooner than you’d hoped. But you couldn’t stop pumping into him. It felt too fucking good. Your clit throbbed and your knees were about to give in, but nothing could hold you back now.

You grabbed Chan’s throat harder, squeezing it until you knew he’d have trouble getting steady breaths in and out. You used this as your vantage point to steady him as your other hand folded around his waist and down to his dick. You grabbed it into your hand quickly, not wasting any time.

He hissed as you began to quickly jerk him up and down while pounding into him, trying to focus on his breathing before giving in entirely.

You felt him clench down onto the dildo, putting more pressure onto it and the vibrator attached. You felt your inner thighs begin to twitch. Your own breathing began to falter out. You knew you needed to make the most of these last few moments.

“You are such a dirty fucking slut, you know that?” you whispered into his ear, licking it softly before turning his head toward you by his throat.

You connected your mouth to his, saliva going everywhere as you devoured him until the last second. Biting at him until you could taste blood. Choking him until he was gasping under you for air. Blood rushing to your head from the adrenaline and the sight of your boyfriend totally and completely at your mercy. Your bitch. Anything you wanted him to be.

You rammed his body down by his throat to push him into you harder, fucking into him with everything you had. Your hand was fast on his dick, working him up to the point that tears began to stream down his face.

“This is what you wanted,” you smiled, biting down on his shoulder. “Wanted to cry your fucking heart out to how good I could use you... Ahhh fuck,” you growled, the stimulation about to send you over.

“My sweet little baby Channie,” you whispered into his ear ever so lightly, placing one more kiss to it. So soft it was almost a tickle. You could taste the salty liquid that had spilled out of his eyes and had run across his face. Tears still coming down while your hand stifled his cries and moans.

“I know you want to cum,” you breathed out, fucking him with your hips and hand as fast as possible. “Cum for me baby. Let it all out,” you purred.

Suddenly, without your permission, your own body jolted, hitting your high. You began to convulse uncontrollably, sending shocks throughout your very core, leaving Chan with sporadic, trembling thrusts and shaky hands.

“Fuck Channie,” you cried, trying to ride out your own high, but almost passing out in the process. “Cum right fucking now. Right fucking now!” you yelled, not knowing if you’d be able to survive the overstimulation of fucking him any longer.

You let go of his throat long enough for him to take a deep gasp for air and cry out as he too began to shake around you. His limbs began to flail as his body gave out, screaming and crying as he lost control. Cum shot out of him with more force than it ever had, leaving his head spinning and mind completely numb.

Losing hold of him, he collapsed out of your arms, spasming the same as you as he tried to regain his sense of being.

You took a deep breath before falling next to him on the bed, heaving heavily until your breath came back to you. Chan was doing the same while covering his face with his hands, embarrassed again all of a sudden.

You gave him a moment to collect himself before leaning over to kiss his forehead and remove his hands. You placed a soft kiss to his nose while you held his hands in yours.

“How was it baby?” you smiled as you whispered.

“It was…” he contemplated finding the right word. “Insane,” he laughed, finally coming back to his normal self.

“Hopefully insane in a good way?” you cocked a brow toward him.

“Yes, in a good way.” He squeezed your hand before turning his head slightly to look up toward the ceiling, not making eye contact with you. He closed his eyes, chuckling to himself.

“You don’t really think I’m a ‘fucking slut’, do you?” he kept giggling, teasing the way you’d talked to him.

“Oh I do. I think you’re my fucking slut,” you lightheartedly winked. You brought your lips back to his as he smiled into the kiss, shaking his head back and forth.

“What am I gonna do with you now?” he laughed as he pulled back and brought you into his chest.

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novulen · 6 months

Text

𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇 (𝐓𝐈𝐏)𝐒! — *:ꔫ:*

"Kento!" You call out as you hear the front door swing open after the telltale and familiar jingle of his keys. After aching to see your lover all day, you practically run up to him, arms acting on their own and nwrapping around his neck.

You take in his cedar wood cologne, basking in the comfort and relaxation the smell provides to your nerves. "I missed you."

Nanami drinks in the feeling of your soft body in his hold and smiles. "I missed you too."

After your mushy greetings, and a quick kiss, Nanami allows you to shrug off his suit jacket. Your touch has always been so soothing to him, but somehow, today, you seem to be catering to him more than usual.

Escorting him to the couch and having him sit down, Nanami's essentially putty in your delicate hands as you straddle his lap.

"Sweetheart, is there something you need to tell me?" he asks, catching on to your stratagem, tilting his head, amused.

In a feigned fit of hurt you gasp, clutching your chest dramatically. "Ken, how could you?!" you frown, sighing into the skin of his neck soon after, knowing he's caught you. Nanami doesn't say anything, his steady breathing fanning past your ear.

"Okay, well..." he fights to bite back his delight, his eyebrows raising as he listens. "I want to get a new set," you mumble, placing your manicured hand in his.

Nanami gazes down at the pink acrylic, with white French tips completed with bow charms, and hums. "What's wrong with these?" he questions, taking your dainty hand in his rougher one, and inspects your fingers closer, unable to find anything flawed with your current set.

"I just have something else in mind. And I promise once you see them, you'll get why." you pout, innocent eyes peering up at him with that look you know he can't refuse.

How could he ever possibly say no to that irresistible look--how could he ever say no to you?

Now having fell into your own trap, a noise of deep contemplation rumbles from Nanami's chest.

Hell, he has the money, why not?

"Alright. When do you need the money, love?" he questions, and Kento swears he can't hear his own thoughts with how loud you squeal in glee.

"Thank you, ken," you swoon, your eyes overtaking a lusty, familiar hue. His breath catches in his throat as you kiss him, completely under your spell as you yet again escort him to another place, this time, your shared bedroom.

"By Friday, baby."

Friday comes relatively smoothly. Nanami sends you the money--a hefty 350 for both your manicure and to get yourself something.

You get your nails done, and with every opportunity, hide them from him until the 'big moment'--or so you called it.

"Are you ready?" you ask, excited, as you hide your hands behind your back. Nanami sits on the bed, deliciously manspread, nodding along.

"Mhm.."

"Okay! Here it goes."

Slowly, you reveal your nails to him.

Utter silence takes over the bedroom.

You frown as you look at Nanami, an indifferent expression on his face. "You don't like them?"

He shakes his head. "No, I do. but they're just pink,"

And he's right, they're just pink. a brownish-blush pink acrylic—a color that oddly resembles the one of his tip.

"Well, yeah. That's the point, Ken." you smile, slowly advancing towards the blond sat on the bed. Placing yourself on his lap, you begin to speak again.

"doesn't this color seem...I don't know, familiar?" Your lips are now snaking up his neck, soft and plush. Nanami finds it hard to speak when you're on him like this, talking in that tone.

"I--" he stutters, attempting his best to inspect your fingertips. "No."

You giggle, a breathy laugh fanning across his skin.

Perhaps once you compare he’ll get it.

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moonxknightx · 21 days

Text

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : BOUND BY DESIRE : :;

╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Dark!Logan Howlett x F!Reader

・❥・GENRE: Smut

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆FANDOM: X-Men

ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: Explicit, 18+, smut, cheating, piv, unprotected sex, choking, perv!Logan, fingering, rough, reader is married

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: Logan, your possessive neighbor, has been obsessed with you for a long time, believing your husband doesn’t deserve you. One afternoon, he confronts you, confessing his feelings and insisting you belong to him. Despite your initial resistance, you're drawn to his intensity. Logan kisses you, his dark desire overwhelming, claiming you as his. You’re caught between the weight of your marriage and the dangerous pull of his obsession.

Based on this request

YOU ARE STANDING IN FRONT OF YOUR YARD, completely unaware of the piercing gaze watching you from across the road. Logan’s house isn’t far, tucked just out of sight, but he never stays hidden for long. He can’t. Not when you’re so close.

He stands at his window, gaze fixed on you, fingers twitching at his sides as he fights the urge to cross the street. He knows he shouldn’t. He knows. But it’s impossible to ignore the pull you have over him. His senses are too sharp, too attuned to everything about you—the way your perfume mixes with the air, the soft sound of your laughter when you speak to your husband, the faint trace of your skin beneath it all. It drives him insane.

You’re married. His wife. That thought alone should stop him, should have ended his obsession the moment it began. And yet, here he is. Day after day, watching you, needing you more than he’s ever needed anything before.

A soft laugh escapes your lips as you turn to talk to your husband, and Logan's jaw tightens. He hates the sight of him next to you, touching you, talking to you as if he deserves you. Logan knows deep down that the man doesn’t. Not the way Logan does. He can smell the tension in your house, the arguments that come and go like the changing wind. He knows your marriage isn’t perfect. You aren’t perfect.

But you’re his.

Logan’s thoughts grow darker, swirling around the ways he could make it all disappear. How easy it would be to tear your husband from your life. He’s imagined it before. Too many times. The fantasies slip into his mind late at night when he’s alone—how he could end it in an instant, erase the man from your world, make you his, truly his.

Logan shakes the thoughts away, but the damage is done. The idea is there, burning at the back of his mind like a fire that refuses to die. His fingers flex again, and this time he doesn’t hold back. He grabs his jacket, strides to the door, and steps outside before he can think twice.

You don’t see him coming. You’re too distracted, lost in a conversation with your husband, who’s leaning against the porch railing, sipping a drink, oblivious to the danger that’s lurking just beyond the corner of his eye. But Logan is there in seconds, crossing the yard with an unhurried ease that belies the tension coiled in his body.

“Logan?” you ask, startled as he approaches. You smile, and his chest tightens. You have no idea.

“Hey.” His voice is rougher than usual, his eyes flicking between you and the man standing too close for his liking. “Thought I’d drop by. You got a minute?”

Your husband glances at Logan, clearly unimpressed by the intrusion, but you don’t seem to mind. You shrug, smile a little more, completely unaware of the way Logan’s eyes linger on you a beat too long.

“I guess so. What’s up?”

Logan’s eyes lock on yours, the weight of his stare making your breath hitch for just a moment. There’s something different about him today—something darker, something hungry. The tension between him and your husband is thick, but you ignore it, as usual. You’ve always gotten along with Logan. He’s your friendly, quiet neighbor, a little rough around the edges but kind enough. If you ever sensed something more beneath the surface, you pushed it away.

Now, though… now it’s hard to ignore.

Your husband straightens, eyes narrowing as Logan steps a little closer. “Can it wait, Logan? We’re kinda in the middle of something.”

Logan’s jaw ticks, but he keeps his voice calm, almost too calm. “Wasn’t talkin’ to you.”

The words hang in the air, thick with unspoken meaning. Your husband stiffens, but before he can respond, you step in, sensing the brewing storm. “It’s fine,” you say quickly, trying to diffuse the situation. “What do you need, Logan?”

Logan’s eyes never leave yours as he takes another step, close enough now that you can feel the heat radiating off him, smell the faint scent of leather and wood smoke clinging to his jacket. Your heart skips a beat.

“I need to talk to you. Alone.”

You glance back at your husband, who’s glaring at Logan now, suspicion written all over his face. But something in Logan’s tone, in the intensity of his gaze, makes it impossible for you to refuse. There’s a pull there, a magnetism you can’t quite explain.

“I’ll be right back,” you say, trying to keep your voice light, casual, but the tension crackles in the air as you follow Logan down the front steps, away from the porch, out of earshot and sight from your husband.

Once you’re far enough, you stop, crossing your arms over your chest as you turn to face him. “What’s this about, Logan? You’re acting—”

“Different?” he interrupts, his voice low, gravelly, but there’s an edge to it, something simmering just beneath the surface.

Your breath catches as he steps closer, invading your space, his gaze locking onto yours with a heat that sends a shiver down your spine. “Logan—”

“I see the way he treats you,” Logan growls, his voice dark, dangerous. “The way he doesn’t appreciate you. You think I haven’t noticed? You deserve better than him.”

You take a step back, your heart racing. “Logan, this isn’t—”

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Logan cuts you off, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as he reaches out, his fingers brushing your arm. The touch is electric, sending a jolt through your body. You should pull away. You should push him back, tell him to stop, but you don’t. You can’t.

“You’re mine,” Logan whispers, his voice rough, possessive. “You’ve always been mine.”

You know you should leave. You should turn around and go back to your husband, pretend this never happened. But there’s a part of you—dark, twisted, hidden deep beneath the surface—that doesn’t want to.

Because some part of you has always been his too.

The tension between you and Logan hums in the air, thick enough to suffocate. His eyes are burning into yours, his chest rising and falling as if he’s trying to contain himself. You should walk away right now.

You know that. Your husband is just a few steps away, but somehow, he feels like a distant memory compared to the weight of Logan’s presence pressing down on you.

His hand lingers on your arm, the rough texture of his calloused skin sending a ripple of heat through you.

You take in a shaky breath, willing yourself to say something, anything that might pull you out of this. But Logan is too close, too intense, and the words dissolve on your tongue before they can form.

“Logan, we can’t—” you start, but it’s a weak attempt at resistance, and you both know it.

“Why not?” he murmurs, his voice low, almost a growl as his fingers slide up to your shoulder, then your neck, his thumb brushing along your jaw. It’s a gentle touch, but there’s something possessive about it, something that sends a thrill down your spine.

You swallow hard, your throat dry as you try to focus, to remember who you are and what’s at stake. “I’m married,” you say, the words coming out more like a plea than a statement.

His eyes darken at the mention of your husband, his lips curling into a sneer. “Not for long,” he mutters under his breath, barely loud enough for you to hear. Then, without warning, he leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispers, “You know you don’t belong with him.”

You close your eyes, trying to block out the way his words sink into you, the truth of them

twisting in your gut. You’ve known for a while that things between you and your husband have been strained. But that doesn’t mean this is right. Doesn’t mean you should want this.

And yet… you do.

“I see you,” Logan says, his voice rough, like he’s holding back something dangerous. His hand moves to the small of your back, pulling you closer until your bodies are almost flush. “I’ve seen the way he treats you, the way he takes you for granted. You think I don’t know?”

Your breath quickens as his lips brush against your ear, the nearness of him intoxicating.

You can feel the heat radiating off him, feel the barely-contained tension in his muscles, and it’s like standing on the edge of a cliff. One wrong move and you’ll fall.

But falling doesn’t feel like such a bad idea anymore.

“Logan…” you whisper, though you’re not sure if it’s a warning or an invitation.

He doesn’t give you time to figure it out. His mouth crashes down on yours with a force that steals your breath, his hand gripping the back of your neck as he pulls you into the kiss. It’s not soft or slow—there’s no pretense of gentleness here. It’s all fire, all need, raw and unrestrained.

Your mind screams at you to stop, but your body betrays you, melting into him, your hands reaching up to clutch his jacket as if he’s the only solid thing keeping you grounded. His other hand slides down your waist, his fingers digging into your hip with a possessiveness that makes your head spin.

When you gasp for air, he uses it to deepen the kiss, his tongue claiming yours with a hunger that feels like it’s been building for years. And maybe it has. Maybe you’ve felt this pull between you and Logan for longer than you’ve ever let yourself admit.

The thought should scare you. It should make you stop. But all you feel is heat, overwhelming and impossible to ignore.

Logan growls low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your lips as he pushes you back, guiding you toward the wall of your house. Your back hits the rough brick, and a gasp escapes your mouth, but it’s lost as Logan’s lips find yours again, his hands everywhere—your waist, your neck, your hair—as if he can’t get enough of you. Like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.

“I’ve wanted this,” he rasps against your lips, his breath ragged. “Wanted you. And you want it too.” It’s not a question. He knows, just like you do. You can feel the truth of it in the way your body responds to him, in the way your pulse races beneath his touch.

But there’s a dark edge to his voice now, something possessive, dangerous, and it sends a chill down your spine even as you shiver from his heat.

You pull back just enough to look up at him, your breath coming in short, uneven bursts. His eyes are wild, a storm of emotions swirling just beneath the surface—desire, anger, and something darker, something territorial. It scares you, but it thrills you too, the weight of his obsession pressing down on you like a vice.

“You belong to me,” he growls, his voice thick with conviction. “Not him. Me.”

You open your mouth to protest, but he silences you with another kiss, this one softer but no less intense.

His lips move against yours with a bruising tenderness, like he’s staking his claim, branding you with every touch.

When he finally pulls away, his forehead presses against yours, and you can feel his breath, hot and uneven, mingling with yours in the small space between you.

“You know it, don’t you?” he whispers, his voice low and rough. “You’re mine. Always have been.”

Your heart pounds in your chest, every part of you torn between the rational voice screaming in the back of your mind and the overwhelming need that’s taken hold of your body.

You’re standing on a knife’s edge, one step away from shattering everything.

But with Logan this close, his hands still on your body, his lips hovering just inches from yours, you can’t seem to find the strength to care.

“Come with me.” Logan whispers while taking your hand in his, pulling you towards his house without your husband seeing it.

“Logan…” You breathe, but Logan ignores you as he led you through his house, pulling you into his bedroom.

“I’m going to show you how you should be treated.” Logan smirks before pushing you down onto his bed, immediately climbing on top of you.

He wraps one of his hands around your throat while covering your face with kisses.

“Logan…” You whimper, arching your back. Logan just chuckles while reaching for your skirt with his free hand. He bunches up the fabric and starts stroking your clothed pussy.

“I can already feel you dripping.” Logan smirks before pushing your panties to the side, slowly sliding two of his fingers through your folds.

“Oh f-fuck…” You moan as your mouth falls open. “Yeah you like that?” Logan smiles, slowly inserting one of his fingers into your hole, filling you up.

“Fuck you’re so tight. Does your husband not fuck you enough?” Logan asks with a grin. You try to roll your eyes at him but the feeling of his finger fucking you feels to good.

“More…” You whimper. Logan listens and adds a second finger in your pussy.

“Fuck Logan!” Logan just smirks while putting some more pressure on your throat. He leans in and captures your lips in a passionate heated kiss.

You could feel Logan’s cock throbbing against the inside of your thigh. You try to move your hips but Logan keeps you down. “Hold on sweet girl.” Logan says before reaching for his belt, unbuckling it with one hand before pulling them down with his boxers.

You could feel his cock slapping against your pussy while he pulled down your tanktop, revealing your tits.

“I need more…” You say softly, trying to focus while Logan kept fucking you with his fingers.

“I know. You must be needing more after that pathetic husband of you keeps you dissatisfied.” Logan scoffs, stroking his cock as he leans down to press kisses in between your tits.

“Don’t talk about my husband like that.” You manage to say between moans, making Logan laugh. “Or what?” He replies.

When you don’t give him an answer, Logan aligns his cock at your entrance while looking down at you, his gaze unreadable.

“You’re mine, okay? Mine.” Logan tells you before pushing his cock in, filling your pussy.

“Oh God!” You moan as you throw your head back against the pillows.

Logan closes his eyes for a moment, trying to control himself as he feels your walls clench around him.

“You feel amazing.” Logan says. “So fucking tight.” He groans as he places both of his hands next to your face, slowly rocking his hips forward.

You dig your nails into Logan’s back, causing him to groan as he speeds up his thrusts.

“So pretty like this. Taking another man’s cock. What would your husband think of you when he finds out?” Logan mocks as he holds up one of your legs, making you take him deeper.

You know you should geel guilty, but somehow you just don’t. You are too lost in all the pleasure to care. And Logan knows.

Suddenly Logan grabs your hips and switches positions, making you ride him while he’s playing with your tits.

You bounce up and down his cock while Logan bites his lip, looking at how his cock keeps disappearing in your cunt.

“So fucking sexy.” He murmurs while rubbing your clit with one of his hands.

“L-Logan…Fuck,” You moan as you throw your head back in pleasure. “Go on, keep fucking yourself on my cock, darlin’.” Logan groans, forcing your hips down onto his cock, making him hit the perfect spot.

“I’m close…” You announce, placing one of your hands on Logan’s chest for leverage.

“Go on then, sweetheart. Come on my cock.” Logan smirks as he starts thrusting up into you. You let out a deep moan while digging your nails into his chest.

Soon, you are a shuddering mess as you come undone on his cock. “Logan!,” You moan, collapsing onto Logan while you’re milking his dick.

Logan immediately wraps his arms around your waist while pounding into you. You start whimpering, telling him it was too much, but Logan doesn’t care. He keeps sliding his cock in and out of your pussy until he almost comes.

“Oh baby, i’m going to fill you up with my cum. I bet your husband would love that.” He chuckles darkly, pounding into you a few more times until he comes inside of you. You moan softly at the feeling of him filling you up.

“Oh fucking hell.” Logan breathes as he slowly calms down. He doesn’t pull out, he just pulls you even closer to him while stroking your back.

“You belong with me.” He says quietly. You hum at his words, too tired to say anything else.

You and Logan stay like that for a while. Just cuddling in bed, until you realize how late it is.

“Shit i have to get back. He’ll start wondering where i am.” You say, panicking as you quickly get off of Logan.

Logan watches as you fix your clothes. Pulling your skirt back down and your top up. You walk over to Logan’s mirror and quickly fix your hair.

Suddenly, Logan is behind you. His hands are on your waist as he lays his chin on your shoulder.

“Come back here tonight.” He sighs. “I can’t Logan. We shouldn’t have done this. It isn’t fair.” You tell him.

Logan laughs while shaking his head. “Do you know what isn’t fair? You being with someone who doesn’t appreciate you enough.” You roll your eyes at his words, but deep down you know he’s right.

“I have to go Logan.” You tell him again. Logan nods and guides you to the front door of his small house.

“At least try to come back tonight. It will be worth it.” Logan says, smirking slightly. You give him a small smile while nodding. “I’ll try.”

Logan quickly leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead before watching you walk back to your own house.

When you walk into the living room, you see your husband sitting on the couch, watching TV. His eyes immediately fall upon you.

“What did he want from you? You’ve been almost gone for an hour.” He asks. You just shrug your shoulders while heading to the kitchen.

“He needed some help with his backyard. Didn’t know how to plant the flowers, so i helped him.” You lie.

“Mhm such a strange guy.” Your husband murmurs, returning his focus back to the TV.

“Yeah… tell me about it.” You mumble under your breath while looking at the back of your husband, still feeling Logan’s cum leak out of you.

🏷️: @twinky-wink @fidgetingbee @astarions-girl-dinner @layladestiny8 @birdy-bat-writes @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @wolviesgirl @slowlikehoneyyy

If you want to be added to the tag list, let me know!!

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett smut #wolverine smut #hugh jackman #logan howlett imagine

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mythicalmaven · 4 days

Text

Extraordinary - Oscar Piastri (ONE SHOT)

masterlist

Here is a little extra upload to celebrate Oscar's second F1 Grand Prix win! :) So enjoy is a post Azerbaijan GP celebration smut! Let me know what you think of it & let me know if you want a sequel to this!

↳pairing: oscar piastri x female!reader ↳word count: 3K ↳warnings: smut, 18+ content (MDNI!), handjob (m! eceiving), oral sex (m!receiving), feelings, kissing, praising, explicit sexual content, childhood best friends to lovers, making out, first kiss,

↳summary: Oscar just won the Azerbaijan GP. You, his childhood best friend & the one he secretly has been in love with for years, have always been by his side. Every race you attended ended with the same ritual; hugging, talking, and sharing the post-race high in a purely platonic way, both trying to ignore your feelings. But today felt different. His win stirred something in you, the urge to make him feel good overwhelmed you, your feelings too strong to contain any longer.

Credits for the gif to: @princemick

Oscar had just won his second Formula 1 race, and the energy in the paddock was electric. The cheers, the celebration, and the pride that radiated from his team made everything feel larger than life. But all of that faded the moment he stepped into his driver's room and saw you.

Like always, you were there waiting for him, the one constant in all the chaos. It had become something of a ritual between the two of you when you attended his races—a hug, a shared conversation, and time spent basking in the post-race high. But today felt different. The intensity in the air between you was thick, palpable in a way it hadn't been before.

As soon as he stepped into the room, his eyes found yours, and you couldn’t help but admire how good he looked — flushed with adrenaline, glowing from his second win in Formula 1. He was more than just your best friend at that moment; he was a man who had just conquered the track, and the sight of him like this stirred something deep within you.

He came to you for that familiar embrace, but when his arms wrapped around you, something shifted. There was a heat in his touch that you hadn't noticed before, or perhaps, had refused to acknowledge. The feel of his racing suit, tied loosely around his hips, the way his body pressed against yours—it was all too much. And when you pulled back, your hand didn't leave his abdomen. Instead, it hovered just above the waistband of his fireproofs, your fingers playing with the fabric. A gesture that felt as natural as it was intimate.

"Oscar Piastri," you purred, unable to help the words that spilled from your lips, "two-time F1 winner. Look at you, all grown up..."

He smirked, his eyes twinkling with pride and something else—something that made your heart skip. "You sound surprised" he teased, though his voice was a little rougher than usual, the hint of nerves and excitement betraying him. “Didn’t think I had it in me?”

You let your fingers trail along his abdomen, just brushing the hem of his fireproofs. “Oh, I knew you had it in you,” you said, your voice lowering as you allowed yourself to finally cross that invisible line. “I just didn’t realize how… hot it would look on you.”

His breath hitched at your words, and he pulled back just enough to look down at you, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “You… you think I look hot?” he asked, his voice ragged, almost disbelieving, the hint of nerves and excitement betraying him.

You felt emboldened by his response, your pulse quickening with adrenaline. As you nodded at him, your fingers slipped under the hem of his fireproofs, teasing his skin, noticing the way his breath hitched, his body reacting instinctively to your touch. Slowly, you began to peel up his fireproofs, revealing more of his skin inch by inch, savoring the way his muscles tensed beneath your fingers.

“You deserve a reward,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. “For being such a champion.”

Oscar’s eyes fluttered shut, and he let out a ragged breath, the weight of your words sinking in. “A reward?” he asked, his voice strained as he tried to keep his composure, though you could tell he was unraveling beneath your touch.

You nodded, gently crowding him back against the door, your body pressing closer to his. His breath came in shallow gasps, and you could see the conflict in his eyes—excitement and nerves coalescing into something overwhelming.

“What are you doing?” he asked softly, his voice shaking, though his hands didn’t move from your waist.

“Rewarding you, like I said,” you replied, your voice sultry and full of promise.

Your fingers continued to explore, tracing the muscles of his abs under the fabric of his fireproofs. Oscar’s breath became uneven, his body responding to each touch, every soft graze of your fingertips. The heat between you was palpable as your hand slowly moved lower, teasing at the waistband of his race suit, brushing over his skin.

You carefully made your way to the sleeves that tied his race suit loosely around his hips. You untied the knot of his race suit, taking your time, savoring each second of anticipation. His eyes were locked on yours, the tension building as your hand slipped inside his now open suit, palm pressing against him through the fabric of his boxers. Oscar’s breath caught in his throat, a soft groan escaping him as you began to palm him gently, feeling him harden beneath your touch.

“Tell me if you want me to stop” you whispered softly.

His body reacted instinctively, his hips shifting slightly toward you, but he was still, letting you set the pace. Your hand slid further inside his race suit, fingers caressing him through the fabric of his boxers. His breath hitched again, and his grip on your waist tightened, the tension in his body unmistakable.

“God… you have no idea how good this feels,” he whispered, voice shaky as you continued teasing him through the material. His eyes fluttered shut, the pleasure already overtaking him as you finally slipped your hand inside his boxers, your fingers wrapping around him. His entire body tensed, and a low groan escaped his lips again as you stroked him gently, savoring every response, every tremble that coursed through him.

His hand found your hair, his grip tightening slightly as he struggled to hold himself together. “Fuck… you’re so good,” he moaned, his voice barely more than a whisper, his head tilting back, eyes closed in pure bliss. “So fucking good.”

You smiled up at him, continuing your slow, deliberate movements, relishing the way his body responded to your touch. After a few moments of building that delicious tension, you paused, your voice soft and sultry as you asked, “Can I take this off?”

Oscar’s eyes snapped open, and he looked down at you, his expression filled with desperate need. “God, yes,” he rasped, almost a plea.

With a soft smile, you began to sink to your knees, pressing gentle kisses down his abdomen as you slid his race suit and boxers down to his ankles. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the tension in his muscles as you kissed your way lower, teasing him with your lips and tongue.

Oscar’s breath became shallow, his body trembling with anticipation. His hands found their way into your hair again, his fingers tangling as you knelt in front of him.

You smiled up at him, your fingers wrapping around him again, moving in slow, teasing strokes as you watched him fall apart. His reaction fueled your own desire, and you couldn’t help but admire how beautiful he looked like this — vulnerable and completely overwhelmed by you.

“You have no idea how often I’ve thought about this,” he whispered, his voice raw and full of need. “How many times I’ve imagined you… like this.”

You leaned in, your lips brushing against his skin, testing his responsiveness as you trailed soft kisses around thighs and hips, purposefully avoiding his dick to make him want you even more. Each kiss sending a shiver through him, his body responding to every touch.

“You’ve always been my champion,” you murmured, leaning in to press a soft kiss against his hipbone. “It’s time I show you just how much I’ve been rooting for you.”

His breath hitched when you gently licked a stripe up his shaft, your movements slow and teasing. Oscar’s reaction was immediate—his body jerked, and he let out a loud, desperate moan, his voice filled with disbelief. “Oh God… I didn’t think…” He struggled to form words, caught completely off-guard by the intensity of it all.

You smirked, Oscar’s erection still hot against your lips as continued to tease him, your lips brushing against him, your tongue trailing along his length with agonizing slowness. Every movement made him tremble, his hips bucking slightly as you finally took him into your mouth. The moment you did, his entire body tensed, and he let out a whimpering moan, his voice shaky and full of need.

“God, you’re… f-fuck,” he stammered, barely able to form the words as his head tilted back against the door, eyes closed in pure bliss. “You’re… you’re incredible.”

You could feel the tension building in him, his muscles clenching as he tried to hold on. His hands tightened in your hair, as if to stop you from pushing him over the edge too soon. He was fighting himself, every part of him desperate for release, but struggling to prolong the pleasure.

“Fuck… I can’t… you’re driving me insane,” he moaned, his voice barely coherent. “I… I can’t hold back.”

You hummed around him, your tongue teasing and swirling as you took him deeper, savoring the way he reacted to every movement. His hands tightened in your hair, his hips bucking slightly as you set a slow, torturous rhythm.

“Y-you’re gonna make me—” Oscar’s voice was strained, his words interrupted by a broken moan as he tried to hold himself back. “I-I don’t want this to end… not yet.”

You paused, pulling back slightly to meet his gaze. His chest was heaving, and his eyes were glazed with pleasure, but you could see the way he was holding on by a thread.

“You don’t have to hold back,” you whispered, your voice soothing. “But I can go slow… take my time with you.”

Oscar nodded, swallowing hard as he tried to catch his breath. “P-please,” he whispered, his voice almost a plea. “I… I want this… I need this.”

You smiled up at him, your lips still teasing him, your hand continuing to stroke him gently, while your mouth was taking a break to give him some time to recover.

Oscar smiled back at you and you took that as a sign to continue. This time, you moved slower, your hand working in tandem with your mouth, teasing him, building him up again as his body trembled beneath you.

Every sound he made, every gasp and moan, sent a thrill through you. You loved seeing him like this, completely undone by your touch, and you couldn’t resist the urge to push him further, to make him feel every bit of the pleasure he deserved.

You paused for just a second, looking up at him briefly “You’re doing so well, Oscar,” you whispered, your voice filled with praise. “You’ve worked so hard for this… you’ve earned it.”

Oscar’s eyes widened in surprise, his breath catching in his throat as he was caught off guard by your words. The intensity of his arousal spiked even higher, his body reacting instinctively. He had to clench every muscle in his body to not cum right then and there “God, no,” he moaned, his voice strained and urgent. “You can’t say things like that. It makes it so much harder to hold back. It’s making it worse...”

“Maybe that’s the point” you sassed, a smug, satisfied grin tugging at your lips as you continued to tease him. Your tongue flicked over him with purpose, taking pleasure in watching him lose control. Every gasp and moan he made sent a thrill through you, fueling your desire as you reveled in the way he was unraveling under your touch.

Oscar’s breath hitched again, his hands trembling as they gripped your hair tighter. “Fuck, I-I… you’re driving me crazy,” he moaned, his voice barely coherent. “Y-you’re… amazing.”

As you continued to pleasure him, you felt him getting closer, his body tensing as he neared the edge. His hips bucked against you, and his moans grew louder, more desperate.

“I can’t… I-I can’t hold on much longer,” he gasped, his voice breaking with need. “I’m… f-fuck, I’m so close…”

"Then don't hold back, Osc." you whispered, looking up at him "Let go for me"

You increased the pressure, taking him deeper, your mouth and hand working in perfect unison as you pushed him closer to his release. Oscar’s entire body shook, and with a final, shuddering breath, he came undone, his moans loud and raw as pleasure surged through him.

You kept going, guiding him through his climax, savoring every second of his release until he finally collapsed back against the door, completely spent. His chest was heaving, and his eyes fluttered open, still glazed with satisfaction and awe.

“God… that was…” he breathed, his voice ragged as he looked down at you with a mixture of disbelief and gratitude. “You’re… you’re incredible.”

You smiled up at him, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction wash over you. “You deserved every second of that,” you whispered, your voice soft and filled with affection. “You’re a winner, Oscar. And winners deserve rewards.”

When Oscar seemed to have come down from his high, you gently pulled up his boxers, carefully tucking him back inside. You then followed with his race suit, using the sleeves to tie it around his hips. While you were busy tying the knot, you looked up at him “I figured, since I was the one who undressed you, I might as well help you get dressed again" you chuckled at him "I know you'll take them off again when you go shower, but I assumed the walk towards the bathroom would be a little less complicated when you don't have your suit pooling around his ankles"

Oscar let out a breathless laugh, still trying to catch his breath. “You just sucked my dick less than a minute ago and we're already back on the witty remarks" God, I love you, he thought

You laughed at him, still on your knees, smacking him softly against his now clothes thigh “Oi, don't act like you don't love it” you grinned.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he murmured, his hands gently brushing through your hair. “But I’m the luckiest guy in the world.”

Before you could even react, Oscar pulled you up to your feet, his movements fluid and confident. In a heartbeat, he had flipped your positions, pressing your back against the door with a soft, welcoming thud. His hand rested possessively on your waist, the warmth of his touch radiating through you, while his other hand gently cupped your jaw. His thumb traced tender circles over your cheek, a silent promise of the passion yet to come. His gaze, intense and hungry, searched yours, as if looking for confirmation before closing the distance between you.

You subconsciously leaned into Oscar, his breath mingling with yours, warm and inviting, heightening the anticipation between you. You could feel the heat of his anticipation, the unspoken yearning that had built up over the years.

"I should have done this a long time ago" he whispered before finally closing the remaining distance between the two of you.

When his lips finally met yours, you felt a surge of electricity coursing through your veins. It was a feather-light touch that seemed to savor the moment, the initial contact was so soft and exploratory, a gentle caress that spoke of the affection and longing you both had kept hidden. His lips moved with a slow, deliberate tenderness, each kiss a silent confession of his desire.

Oscar’s hand on your waist slid up slightly, his fingers tracing the curve of your ribs, while his other hand, still cradling your jaw, moved with equal care. He gently caressed the side of your neck with his thumb, his touch tender and reverent. The intimacy of his touch made your breath hitch, the anticipation building as his lips pressed more firmly against yours.

Gradually, the kiss deepened, and you felt the shift in intensity. He began to explore your lips with more purpose, his movements gentle yet insistent. A soft, teasing lick against your lower lip was his way of asking for entrance, a delicate and almost shy request that spoke volumes. The sensation of his warm, wet tongue against your skin made you shiver, heightening the tension between you.

When his tongue finally ventured into the kiss, it was a revelation. The initial touch was delicate, a tentative exploration that soon turned into a deeper, more passionate rhythm. His tongue slid against yours with a slow, deliberate grace, teasing and tracing patterns that spoke of the years of unspoken desire. Each movement was filled with intent, each caress a testament to the emotions that had been simmering beneath the surface. The kiss became an intricate dance of sensation, blending the softness of his lips with the boldness of his tongue, creating a connection that was as emotionally charged as it was physically intense.

Oscar’s fingers trailed their way up from your back, towards your shoulder, eventually tangling in your hair, his touch both possessive and tender. His hand that was on your jaw now slid gently to your neck, his fingers tracing a path of fire against your skin. The sensation was electrifying, a delicate contrast to the fervor of his kiss. His thumb rested on your cheek, brushing softly as if to reassure himself that this moment was real.

Oscar’s other hand drifted down from your hair to your neck, his touch as light as a whisper but filled with an undeniable intensity. He traced delicate patterns on your skin, his fingers lingering on the curve of your collarbone before sliding back up to gently cradle the nape of your neck. The sensation of his touch, combined with the softness of his lips, created a symphony of sensations that left you breathless.

Oscar pulled back slightly, his lips brushing against yours in a teasing, barely-there caress. His eyes, dark with passion, searched yours for a moment before resting his forehead against yours. The both of you completely out of breath.

"Wow" you puffed out, still trying to catch your breath "T-That.. -That was extraordinary"

Oscar chuckles at you, a smile covering his face. The relief and happiness in his face evident. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and says "You are extraordinary"

#f1 fanfic #smut #formula 1 #friends to lovers #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #fluff #formula 1 smut #mclaren #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri smut #op81 #oscar piastri imagine #formula one #azerbaijan gp 2024

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space-matt · 12 days

Text

An unexpected announcement

chris sturniolo x fem reader

summary: The time has come to reveal your biggest secret, how will it end?

request: yes -> anon

cw: using her/she

author’s note: hii all, in this shot I just wanted to point out that the boys are about 27 years old, so it is not set in the present day... also because they are relatively young to be thinking about starting a family lol

tell me what you think!♡

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺

English is not my first language, if you see grammar and typing mistakes, I apologize in advance! I just ask you not to be rude to me ♡

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺

As I leaned back into the plush couch, I couldn't help but giggle as Nick casually draped his arm over my shoulder. On the other side, Matt sprawled out, resting his head lazily on my lap. It felt like just another normal, laid-back day at the Sturniolo’s house—almost. The past few months had brought about significant changes, but none of us, not even Nick and Matt, truly grasped the extent of what had shifted.

It all began on the night of your birthday, just over four months ago. The evening is still etched in your memory as a whirlwind of joy, filled with laughter, clinking glasses, and a stolen moment in the kitchen with Chris. Although you and Chris had been close friends for quite some time, something shifted that night. Perhaps it was the rush of excitement in the air, or the way Chris looked at you with a newfound intensity.

Before you knew it, you found yourselves sneaking away from the crowd, sharing a private moment that altered the course of everything. Since then, you have been navigating a secret relationship and - the news of a pregnancy.

You let out a soft sigh, feeling the gentle pressure of Matt's head against your stomach which seemed to accentuate your slight baby bump. It wasn't very big at this point, but it was definitely becoming more noticeable.

Nick, who was resting close to you, playfully teased you about how your figure was becoming more "plump." If only he knew the true reason behind the changes.

"You're looking quite squished there, Y/N. Are you absolutely comfortable?" Nick teased, playfully squeezing your cheek. Meanwhile, Matt let out a groan as he shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position on your lap.

"Yeah, Matt, you're as heavy as hell" you teased back, gently nudging him. He responded with a sleepy smile but remained unmoving.

From across the room, Chris observed the scene with a tense jaw. Though he had been sitting quietly, his gaze never left you, or rather, your interactions with his brothers. It wasn't unusual for you to share affectionate gestures with Nick and Matt, but today felt different.

Throughout the afternoon, you had been engrossed in laughter, engaging in thoughtful touches, appearing entirely at ease. It was enough to drive Chris to the brink of frustration.

Chris rose suddenly from his seat, striding over to the couch and squeezing himself in between you and Nick. He lifted Matt's head from your lap and placed it on his own, announcing, "Alright, enough of this." Chris's voice sounded rougher than usual as he spoke.

"Whoa, someone's not in the best mood" Nick remarked, arching his eyebrows. He reclined but kept his gaze fixed on his brother, clearly finding amusement in Chris's sudden possessive demeanor.

Ignoring Nick, Chris wrapped his arm protectively around your waist, drawing you closer to his side. The contact filled you with warmth, eliciting a smile from you.

His thumb traced gentle circles on your stomach, his subtle way of soothing himself. Despite his clinginess and jealousy, you understood that Chris simply wanted to be close to you.

Nick's mischievous grin stretched even wider as he turned his gaze back and forth between the two of you. "Um, seriously, what's going on with you two?"

You felt your muscles tense slightly, but Chris responded by holding you closer. He had reached the point where he could no longer conceal the truth—especially now. It was no longer just about keeping their relationship a secret. It was about you. The baby. The life they were constructing together.

"Seriously, man. You've been acting strange all day" Matt added, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. His drowsy expression had been replaced with full alertness, sensing the change in the room's atmosphere.

Chris let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair. "Okay, fine. You want to know what's going on?"

Both Nick and Matt nodded eagerly, their eyes widening with anticipation.

Chris looked down at you, offering a reassuring squeeze. You nodded in return, feeling your heart race. There was no more room for secrecy. It was time.

"We've been together," Chris finally confessed, his voice tinged with nervousness. "Y/n and I... we've actually been dating since her birthday."

A brief silence ensued as Nick and Matt exchanged surprised glances, trying to process Chris's revelation.

Nick's eyes widened in disbelief. "Wait, what?! Since her birthday? But that was like..."

"Four months ago," Chris finished, his hand instinctively resting on your stomach as he spoke. "And there’s something else."

As Chris spoke, you placed your hand on top of his and mustered the courage to share the news. "I'm... I'm pregnant. Four months" you said softly, your gaze shifting between Nick and Matt, who were now looking at you both with astonishment.

The room fell silent for a moment, as if time had frozen. Nick's jaw dropped open, and Matt blinked rapidly, appearing to be processing an avalanche of thoughts at once.

"You're WHAT?" Nick finally burst out, staring at both of you in disbelief. "Four months—Chris, dude!"

Matt's expression softened as the initial shock faded away. He looked at your stomach, his eyes widening, but not in a negative way. "Wait... really?" he asked, speaking more softly now. "You're having a baby?"

You nodded, feeling a rush of emotion welling up in your chest. "Yeah. We wanted to share the news with you guys, but... we were waiting for the right moment."

Chris pulled you in closer, placing a tender kiss on your temple. "I couldn't keep it a secret any longer. Seeing you all over her... it was driving me crazy."

Nick threw his hands up in the air, laughing. "Well, maybe if you had told us sooner, we wouldn't have been 'all over her'!"

Matt just shook his head, his usual calm demeanor slowly returning as a broad grin spread across his face. "Wow, I’m going to be an uncle? This is insane." He leaned forward, his hand hovering near your belly. "Can I...?"

You smiled warmly and nodded. "Go ahead."

Matt's hand lay gently on your stomach, and his eyes sparkled with wonder. "This is amazing" he whispered, glancing up at you and Chris with a newfound sense of respect.

Nick joined in, placing his hand next to Matt's. "Looks like there's a little Sturniolo in there, huh?" he quipped, his grin stretching from ear to ear. "This is incredible."

Chris, now beaming from ear to ear, couldn't help but smile. His earlier envy had disappeared, and he rested his head on your shoulder as he watched his brothers dote on you, their excitement infectious.

"Yeah" Chris said, his voice gentle but proud. "We're going to have a little Sturniolo. And I couldn't be happier."

Nick playfully rolled his eyes. "Okay, Chris, we get it. You're head over heels."

Chris smirked, pulling you closer. “Damn right I am."

As the four of you sat together, the room filled with laughter and love, a profound sense of tranquility washed over you. It had been a secret for months, but now, surrounded by family, love, and the anticipation of what was to come, everything felt just right.

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Taglist: @sturniolosreads @mayhem-72 @dracoflaco @lyzsaphrodite @ifilwtmfc @xoxo4chrisss @soimightlikeoldmen69 @inlovewithmattstur @sturniolobendystrawsposts @tillies33ssss @junnniiieee07 @blackhorses-posts

#chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nick sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #pregnancy #ff #fluff #space matt

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sxxythingz · 1 year

Text

Needy

Neteyam sully (22) x human fem! reader (22)

Taglist: @sullybrosimp requested this and I know it literally took forever but here it is so I hope you like it!! 💕

Warnings: smut, p n v, cursing, aged up characters, cream pie, restraints, dom Neteyam

Summary: you and Neteyam have been dating for a short time, but you finally get to experience his rut with him and let’s just say… you have a really good time indeed.

WC: 3.1K

🛑MDNI🛑

You sit in Neteyam’s lap as he softly kisses your lips with passion, having your usual make out routine as you do every single day. You place your arms around his neck pulling him in closer to you as you hear his breath slowly picking up, turning into heaves. You feel his tongue swipe across your bottom lip, almost as if asking for permission and you grant it as you open your mouth, allowing his tongue in.

His tongue wrestles against yours, his rough hands massaging your back until they reach your hips, where his fingertips dig into your skin sure to leave marks as you softly moan. He takes his lips away from yours, leaving quick peppered kisses along your neck as he forces your hips down on his pelvis, pushing you forwards and backwards making a groan erupt from his throat.

He brings his lips back up to yours almost as if he’s in a rush to kiss you, roughly crashing his lips into yours once again, catching you off guard this time. He takes your bottom lip into his sharp teeth roughly biting down and you whimper, pushing him away from the pain. “Shit… I’m so sorry yawne. I-I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Neteyam’s eyes stay glued to you as you feel your lip, collecting a small sample of blood on your finger.

Neteyam is usually extremely gentle with you at all times since you’re so much smaller than him, treating you like a fragile, expensive piece of glass, but today has been different. You’ve spent hours cuddling and kissing, but he's been rougher than ever although you can’t say that you don’t somewhat like it. He tries his best to clear up the blood, running his thumb across your lips but you stop his attempt. “It’s ok, my love. I am fine, but what’s going on with you? You’re usually never this rough.”

You take your bottom lip into your mouth, licking the blood off of it as you watch his face turn to guilt. “I think I’m going into rut and I-I can’t control myself. I should’ve told you before but I wasn’t sure until now, I’m sorry. I usually deal with them alone so I’ve never experienced it with someone and I don’t want to hurt you.” You hear his words, but your mind is distracted by the feeling of you sitting on the hard buldge poking through his loincloth.

You slightly rock your hips, earning a hiss from him as his head falls back. “What if I want to help you through it this time?” Your finger drags down his tight abs agonizingly slow, starting at his chest then back down until you reach just above his loincloth, teasing him by messing with the hemming. “I-If I allow myself to fully let go… I’ll just cause you pain and I would never forgive myself if I h-hurt you.” He stutters as his stomach heaves up and down in a quick paste, the concentration of trying to contain himself is written all over his face.

You kiss his lips, then leave more kisses on his tight jaw until you lead to his ear. “Good thing I like pain.” You seductively whisper before biting his ear, making it flinch as he moans. “Y/n… you can’t-“ His words are interrupted as you place your finger over his lips before jumping off of his lap to stand up. “Hold that thought. I have an idea.” You go into your bag to grab a couple pieces of cloth that you have handy for making anything that you need.

You step back over to him and smirk while dangling the cloth, his eyebrow raises in question as his eyes continuously shift from you to the cloth. “Lay down on your back, hands above your head.” You demand and he quickly shakes his head at you. “No, I’m not doing this.” He protests as he folds his arms, almost in a childish motion.

“This is just to make sure that you don’t hurt me like you think that you will, it’ll work just fine. Now lay down Nete.” You give him a glare and he rolls his eyes before doing as you say, earning a gloating smile from you as you walk over to him and tightly secure the cloth around his wrists, making him wince as you pull it one more time to assure that it’s tight. You look into his eyes who now have a darker tint to them, signifying that his rut has fully begun.

“Let's have some fun, hm?” You smirk as you glare into his eyes, slowly kissing down his stomach until you reach the hemming of his loincloth. His eyes intensely watch you, pain coating them as you take your time just to tease him. You give him a bright smile before kissing the buldge in his loincloth, his hips bucking as you quickly stand up.

His eyes follow you as you run your hands up and down your body, turning around to unbutton your shorts, slowly pulling them down until they touch your ankles. You hear a groan coming from behind as you step out of the shorts and turn back around to remove your shirt, leaving you in just your panties and bra. “I bet you wish you could touch me, don’t you?” You maliciously grin as you watch Neteyam pout, making you laugh.

“Stop fucking teasing and come fuck me, Y/n.” You can see the desperation in his face as you sit back in his lap. You know the game you’re playing, you heard about how feral Na’vi men get during their rut and you knew that if he were to get his hands out of the cloth, it was over for you. But a part of you loved the danger in this, the thought just turned you on even more.

“Relax baby. I’m going to fuck you, but first I want to have some fun.” You reach behind you, unlatching your bra and letting it fall off of you while Neteyam watches you, and although he’s seen you bare plenty of times, it always makes you so nervous to have his eyes on you so intensely. You grope your boobs in your hands, pressing your hips into his once again to grind down with more force, getting yourself off just from the groans coming from him.

A giggle bubbles from your throat as you lean down, your bare chest on his, to suck the soft skin on his neck. You feel him buck his hips once again as he whines and you release his neck to look into his eyes innocently. “Do something.. please. I can’t take it anymore.” He begs you and you smirk at his pleading attempt. “Aww. You’re so cute when you beg baby.” Your hand reaches up to his face to cup his cheek before leaving one last kiss on his lips.

You maneuver your way back down to his loincloth and quickly dispose of it, leaving his dick to spring out with the cool air hitting it making him hiss. You watch as precum drips from the tip and onto his stomach, making you drag your finger through it to get taste. “Mmm… you always taste so good.” You grip his dick into your small hand, but he quickly stops you.

“I-I need you to fuck me. I need to be inside of you, please yawne.” Your pussy throbs at his words, the ones that you’ve never heard him say to you before. If you weren’t sure before, you were more than sure now that he actually was in rut considering that he never turns down head from you, but he needed a different type of release today and you were more than happy to give it to him.

You nod your head in approval before standing up to quickly rid yourself of your panties, leaving you completely exposed to him. “Your body is so fucking beautiful.” Neteyam whines, heating your cheeks up as you step back to the bed and sit on top of him. “You say that every single time that you see it.” You smile, rolling your eyes at him as you grab his dick, giving it a few strokes before lining yourself up with him.

“And I mean it every single time that I say it.” Those are his last words before you slide down on him, earning moans from both you and him in unison. No matter how many times you’ve done this, every time that he enters you, it feels like the first time. You can’t tell if it’s butterflies or him making your stomach feel flustered and full, but excitement takes over your body as you watch relief wash over his face as he’s finally able to feel all of you.

You sit still for one minute to allow yourself to adjust to his size as you place your hands on his chest and move your hips up and down painfully slow to watch his reaction. “Fuck! F-Faster baby, please.” He finally says something and you laugh a little as you torture both of you, just for your amusement. “If you want it faster, you’ll have to get out of your restraint to do it yourself baby… And good luck getting out of them.” You knew that he would take those words as a challenge, but you just couldn’t stop yourself from saying it as excitement rumbled through your stomach like thunder.

Neteyam whines senselessly underneath you as you bite and nip at his neck while you move your hips back and forth, his dick hitting the right spot with every movement that you make. You feel him thrust his hip up as he tightly closes his eyes, grunting while biting his own lip and you smirk at the vulnerability that you have him in.

You were so busy watching his facial expressions that you hadn’t even noticed him wriggling out of the cloth tied around his wrists until you feel his hands firmly grip hold of your waist and flip you over so that he’s on top of you this time. Before you can say anything, he places your tiny wrists in his large hand and thrusts deeply into you, earning a loud scream from you.

“Don’t ever fucking tie me up again or I’ll make you regret it.” The rasp in his voice send shivers through your spine as he continues to rut into you, his tip kissing your cervix with every thrust. This is the roughest sex that the two of you have ever had since he’s always so afraid to hurt you, but you feel guilty for loving this more than how softly he normally fucks you.

He places your legs on his shoulders, wrapping his long fingers around your waist for leverage to roughly pound into you. “F-Fuck Nete! I think I’m a-about to cum!” Your back arches off of the bed, but instead of finishing you off, Neteyam quickly pulls out making a loud popping noise as he breathes out. “No. Turn your ass around now. I’m about to teach you a lesson.” The dominance in his voice makes you even wetter than you already are, which you could’ve sworn was impossible.

You gulp hard before turning around, automatically placing your ass in the air as you plant your face into your pillow, your heart racing at the thought of his last words. “I need more arch baby.” You feel his hands softly caressing your back before he pushes down hard, bringing you into a full arch. “Mhm, just like that.” He brings his hand down for a loud smack on your ass, making you wince at the pain.

“You’re so fucking wet for me. Do I turn you on this much?” The tip of his dick slides up and down your dripping folds as you moan softly, trying to push your hips back in hopes that he would enter you but instead he pulls himself away from you with a chuckle. “Now it’s my turn to tease you. Do you want to cum baby?” He brings himself back towards you, this time pressing the tip firmly against your clit as he rubs it in circles, making you flinch.

“Yes Nete! I want to cum, just please fuck me!” You desperately yell out in frustration, but knowing that this was your punishment for tying him up and teasing him. “Doesn’t feel so good when it’s you, does it?” He lets out another chuckle as he smacks your ass once again making you wince. “I love seeing you like this. Needy for my dick. Needy to feel me inside of you, just as needy as I was to be inside of you.” He takes his tip completely away from you and runs two of his fingers up your folds, collecting your slick onto his fingers before tasting it and moaning at the taste.

He places the tips back at your entrance, barely inserting it in before taking it back out. The teasing becomes too much for you as tears begin to weld in your eyes, trying your best to hold it in as you knew that you would get this. “I should tie you up. Make you keep your hands above your head just like you did me. Leave you helpless so that I can torture you just like you did me.”

He easily pushes himself into you a little further as you rolls your eyes and lay your face back into the pillow, mentally begging him to fuck you and get it over with already. “But I won’t do that to you. I’d rather watch you scratch at the sheets while I fuck you deep and hard. Just.. like.. this.” He plunges himself into you completely as his hips snap into your ass, causing a ripple effect. As if on cue, your nails dig into the sheets as you scream out in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

He pulls back out and snaps his hips against yours yet again, making you reach your hand back to his pelvis in an attempt to push him away but instead it only makes him mad as he smacks your hand away and grabs a handful of your hair, pulling your head back roughly. “Pushing me away won’t work baby. I know like this shit so take it.” He leans down and huskily whispers into your ear, making you moan.

He continues to thrust into you with force, speeding up his pace until your eyes are rolled so far into the back of your head that you’re afraid that they might just get stuck there. “N-Neteyam, shit! I’m about to fucking cum!” You feel your orgasm approaching, a tight knot forming in the bottom of your stomach as clapping noises fill the room.

“Don’t you fucking cum until I tell you to. You better not, Y/n.” You groan out uncontrollably, his demand just pushing you more off of the edge and he knows that. “I c-can’t-“ “yes you fucking can, just a little longer.” You try to hold it in as his thrusts get sloppier with every single hit. His grip on your hair loosens as his hand travels back down to your hips, grinding you on him as his grunts and groans become louder. “Fuck… now! Cum on my dick baby.”

With those words, you finally let go, allowing the orgasm to wash over your body as his warm cum paints your insides, creating a masterpiece that only the two of you will ever know about. You and Neteyam pant heavily in an attempt to catch your breath as he gives you one last smack to your ass before pulling out of you and falling down on the bed to lay beside you. You lay flat on your stomach, fluttering your eyes at Neteyam as you watch him calm down from his high.

“Are you feeling any better?” You extend your hand to his strong chest, leaving gentle touches behind as you feel his heart beating through it. He looks over to you, his eyes finally turning back to their beautiful yellow color as he grabs you into his arms, pulling you chest to chest with him and grabbing your quilt that you have on your bed to cover both of your sweaty naked bodies.

“I’m feeling much better, thanks to you yawne.” He leaves a wet kiss on your forehead, taking the hand that was originally rubbing your back and softly stroking your hair, sending tingle through your body. “At least for now. My rut lasts 3 days and the feeling will come back so if you don’t want to finish it off with me, I can understand that.” You smile at his obliviousness, he has no idea that you want to experience everything that he goes through right beside him.

“I wouldn’t want to miss it for anything. There’s nowhere else that I would rather be than right here with you my love.” A smile spreads across his face as he leans down and kisses you softly before laying his forehead on yours, slowly blinking his eyes. “I love you, ma Y/n.” He whispers to you for the first time since you guys made it official, leaving your heart to flutter.

“I love you, ma Teyam.”

“Hey Y/n, I was wondering if- woah!” You and Neteyam both quickly hop up attempting to cover yourself with the covers as you look towards the entrance of your cot, watching Lo’ak back out while closing his eyes. “Lo’ak! W-What are you doing here?!” You yell at him as you look over to see Neteyam trying to contain his laugh at his brother's antics. “I didn’t know that my brother was here, I was just about to ask a question but I-I, it seems like I’ve interrupted something so… no you know what, it’s fine! No really, I can just come back later or something? Yeah, I’ll just come back later.”

You and Neteyam both look at each other as you watch Lo’ak trip over his own words, you holding in your laugh as well. “I’ve got to go wash my eyes out or something. I’ll never be the same after this.” Lo’ak says before completely exiting your cot, leaving just you and Neteyam alone once again. You both look at each other before bursting out into a fit of laughter as you lay back down and cuddling into each other's arms to stay in that same spot until your next session.

A/N: It took me a while to write this because I kept scrapping everything that I would write until yesterday morning when I literally just woke up and went to work on it, so I really hope you guys enjoy!! 💖

#atwow #atwow fanfiction #avatar #avatar smut #atwow smut #neteyam #neteyam headcanons #neteyam x reader #neteyam smut #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x human reader

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daceydeath · 6 months

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Claims

Pairing: Changbin x Reader Word Count: 0.7K Genre: Smut 🔞 Warnings: 18+, MDNI, swearing, explicit content

This is a very late requested/inspired one for @thotracha inspired by this

Changbin can get a little jealous over things you don't even notice.

You thought visiting him would be exactly that, just a visit. You would sit in their designated room surrounded by the other guys laughing, probably eating and surrounded by various staff. But this time it was distinctly different this time the air felt electric and his dark eyes pierced you the moment you entered the room.

"Hi baby" you smiled, head quirking slightly to silently ask him what was up.

"Bunny, you made it" he announced playfully the tone not at all matching his face. You weaved your way between the makeup artists and stylists to him only for him to pull you into his lap and wrap his arms around you, his hands rougher with you than usual. Burring his head into your neck trying to maintain his usual behaviors he decided to let you in on his mood.

"Fuck, I need you bunny" he almost growled lowly against your skin "When were alone I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk". A shiver of anticipation crawled up your spine making you lick your lips.

You chatted and laughed as you waited for the point in time when you were finally alone with Changbin, his words having already lit a fire in you that you couldn't ignore fighting in your spot on his lap he occasionally changed your position to help hide the semi that you could feel pressed against your arse.

As soon as the staff were breaking for dinner Chan, conveniently, corralled the guys into also leaving, giving Changbin his time alone with you. Within moments he was practically ripping the fabric of your shirt to get it off your body, fueled by whatever insatiable lust he had been trying to hide from the others, making you yelp at the force he was using.

"Binnie you're going to tear them" you protested quietly his lips trying to silence your own as he tore your underwear almost in half in his haste.

"I'll buy you more bunny" he grunted, placing you on your knees on the couch and swiping the head of his thick cock through your wetness, coating himself enough to start pressing himself inside you. You keened at the sensation wiggling slightly to pull away from him not prepped enough to take his length yet

"nuh huh bunny you can take it" he moaned continuing to bottom out inside your velvet walls.

"Fuck Changbin ah ah... I can't....ah too much" you gasped, his thrusts were hard enough to knock the air from your lungs, his thick cock making you feel like you were being split in two but no longer trying to move away from him.

"Shit... so fucking tight bunny" he grunted "So good to me bunny, so fucking good letting me fuck you like this".

"Changbin" you whined, one of his hands moving to start circling your clit groaning as he felt a wave of your juices soak his cock dripping from you onto his thighs.

"Fuck bunny your going to kill me" he groaned the sound of slick skin slapping against skin the only noise in the room other then your whines and his harsh breathing.

"Bin, I can't" you sobbed the pleasure overwhelming you as he just continued to punch into your velvet walls.

"You can bunny and you will" he ground out his fingers pinching you clit sharply making your walls begin to flutter around him "Fuck there you go bunny".

Ah...Ngh...Fuck you almost screamed as you came undone around him making him growl and reach his own peak you walls milking him dry. He slowly pulled out of you grabbing a towel from his bag to clean you up enough to get you dressed again as you flopped bonelessly on the chair trying to regain your breath.

"What has gotten into you today" you finally croaked your voice hoarse.

"Too many idols looking at you" he smirked "Had to show them you're mine bunny".

"What?" you almost laughed "No one looks at me baby, only you". He smiled softly and kissed your temple.

A/N: Thank you for reading, all your comments, reblogs and likes are incredible. I have a special 2k follower story coming but I haven't finished it yet xx

Taglist (open): @christopher-bangnaldoskzz, @armystay89, @damnyouficc, @roamingpolar, @tara-skyhold, @bakedlilgoonie, @krishastumblernow, @mrsseals16, @fawnpeaks, @leeknowinggg, @uno7, @tanzen-ist-gold

#seo changbin x reader #changbin x reader #changbin smut #seo changbin smut #stray kids fics #skz fics #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #stray kids smut #skz imagines #skz hard thoughts #skz hard hours #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids hard hours

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amaderika · 11 months

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PERVERT ! YORU

CW: mature themes, i tried doing nb reader, humping, masturbation,,,, awkward silence

A/N: so i was feeling more of yoru today instead of finishing the tatsuomi fic that has been in my drafts for months now 😀😀😁😁😁 ill finish it one day I SWEAR I WILL

yoru was your roommate. he was really quiet, never really talked to anyone. why? well, he was a pussy. he got absolutely no fucking bitches and he was a loner. come on, he knew no one would want to talk to him, let alone you. but, to his surprise, you were different. he thought this was too cliche. why were you so nice to him? no one's ever treated him this well before. you helped him decide where to place his stuff when he first moved in, made him some cookies, what the fuck? if someone told him you were an angel sent from heaven, he would believe them. you were godsent.

so. . it wasn't his fault, right? jerking off to the thought of you? it wasn't his fault you went to work wearing such a tight shirt! it couldn't be wrong... searching for porn videos with models who looked like you and humping your favorite pillow he knows you sleep with every night. it was okay though, because he loved you!

"fuck — i want you so bad right now. i'm so gross.." yoru moaned out as he dragged his cock up and down your pillow. it smelt exactly like you. too bad it wasn't actually you though.

was he actually going to cum on your pillow? shit, he had to stop this. he was going to far deep. but.. it felt so good.

a loud whimper left his lips as he moved his hips as much as he could. this was some crazy loser activity. he had no rhythm. he was getting weak. he felt like he was gonna pass out any time soon. just imagining you moaning out his name as he thrusted deep inside of you, feeling your warmth, taking in your scent. . there was no way he could stop now. those thoughts of him fucking you instead of this stupid pillow were interrupted when he heard his phone buzzing.

you were calling him.

it happened so suddenly. he scrambled to reach for his phone, immediately pressing accept. this lucky bastard. . he was able to hear your voice now? out of all times?

"yoru! i'm so glad you picked up. i just wanted to ask you what you wanted for dinner?" you said from the other line. you didn't know he was getting off to your sweet voice. he felt like he just hit the jackpot with this one.

it was pathetic how his cock throbbed when he heard you. while keeping up with his movements, he replies with a shaky voice.

"a-anything is fine with m-me as long as you're the one who makes it." he got rougher with his movements. hearing your voice just motivated him even more. please don't hang up — he was secretly hoping.

he was trying so hard to keep quiet. he wouldn't want to let you know he was such a disgusting pervert for you. he didn't want you to think lowly of him. you were the only person who genuinely cared about him and he wouldn't want you to think otherwise.

his cock was twitching, ready for release. the precum coming from it was leaking down to his fingers. just a few more seconds of your voice. .

he put the phone away from him as he came on the soft cushion. as you hung up, he pulled away from the mess he made, a trail of white liquid separating him from it. he was so embarrassed.

you came back home later than usual. you went to your room, noticing your favorite pillow was gone. well, you're too tired to think about that now. you decide to just go to sleep and search for it the next day. yoru got lucky this time.

#gokurakugai #gokurakugai x reader #yoru gokurakugai #yoru gokurakugai x reader #gokurakugai smut #yoru gokurakugai smut

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i-smoke-chapstick · 5 months

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‘NWA, [kinkpril day 2 - bukkake]

-GOTHAM!VILLIANS X READER-

⋆ Characters ↬ Jerome Valeska, Jervis Tetch, Jonathan Crane (J-Squad)

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; foursome with the j-squad !!!

⋆ tags/warnings. GOTHAM!villains x female reader. Day 2 of gotham tv kinkpril! How this works is each day I follow the prompt list; and pick gotham characters who I personally think would resonate with said kink. SMUT!!! PURE PORN. BUKKAKE! FOURSOME!! Poly relationship!!! For those who don’t know, bukkake is just getting your face came on by multiple men. Hard kinks. Warning for spit, overstimulation, pseudo-degradation, and cum. lots of it.

♫ “She just wanna fuck crazy, She just wanna fuck till she can't move no more. / We should make her pay for this.” NWA by Miguel

The whole room smells like sex. You feel filthy, you feel free. Strange how the three men in front of you could bring themselves to share you. You don’t mind a bit.

You’re spread-eagle on a bed in someones mansion. You’re unsure who owns it exactly- but you are sure Jervis hypnotized some poor sap. Any other day you might’ve playfully scolded him, but not today. From the moment you entered the house, Jerome has been licking and kissing your body like a madman. Hard to pay attention when your lover has no perception of personal space.

Jerome ranted to you, mindlessly, all last night and throughout today. He couldn’t keep his mouth shut, which earned him a glare from Jonathan. You’d been curious as to why the redhead was more talkative than usual, but everything clicked when you were roughly shoved on the bed by Jonathan. They wanted to try something new.

And they’d done just that.

“J-Jerome, please.” You’re muffled voice whispers, choking on dick. The pause in you sucking has Jonathan growling, delivering a sharp slap to your chest. You blink away tears as he forces himself deeper.

“Anything for you, doll.” Jerome teases, and theres a sarcastic edge to his voice. He’s laughing at you. His hips wildly buck into your slit, sloppy movements sending wet squelches echoing from the room. The bed is bouncing as his nails dig into your thighs.

At Jerome’s remark, Jervis gives a small giggle, seemingly just as high on this as you are. You continue to wet your lips around Jonathan’s cock, spit bubbling around him. Jervis is pressing his member into the small of your back, fingertips circling your clit while Jerome fucks himself into you. You feel your eyes glaze over.

“Eyes on me.” Jonathan tugs harshly your hair, possessivley taking your attention away from Jervis’s movements. You try your best to see through your tears of overstimulation, exhaling through your nose. You look up towards him, and he lets out a grunt of approval from under his mask. Jervis looks less than pleased, eyes narrowing at the gesture. His patience is thinning, and his circles on your pussy turn rougher. You let out a yelp.

You can tell Jonathan’s getting close from the way his hold on your hair tightens painfully. It only enhances the pleasure. You moan around him when Jerome hits a particularly sweet spot, and you feel Jonathan’s hips sputtering into your mouth.

Jonathan pulls himself out of your mouth with a slippery pop, and his dick twitches as he spills his seed all over your face. The thin coat of cum covers your eyes, mouth, and cheeks, and you wince. You breathe wildly underneath him. You instinctively go to wipe the cum away from your eyes, but feel you feel your wrists pinned down.

Partially blinded, you squint, realizing the feeling of Jerome’s cock is not filling you up anymore. You attempt to look around, finding your hands being held to the mattress by Jervis and Jonathan to keep you firmly in place.

Jerome hovers above you, smiling as he unleashes his own load on your face, laughing through his orgasm. Once again, your face is painted in cream, and you’re whimpering loudly. The sound only makes Jerome laugh and cum harder it seems.

“See? I told ya you could take it!” Jerome’s voice is all you hear, and all you can do is choke and moan loudly. Jervis’s fingers are still working impossibly fast on your clit, and your back arches into him.

“All yours.” Jonathan nods to Jervis, responding nonchalantly. Jervis offers a begrudgingly polite smile. Jerome nods his head wildly, effectively in his happy place through maddening orgasmic bliss.

“Thank you, Gentlemen.” Jervis cocks his head, hand movements stopping. You take the time to catch your breath, which is ripped away from you as you feel Jervis’s heavy cock slide into you in one wet fluid motion. You can’t help but scream at the feeling of being re-stretched, heat filling you.

Through the tears and cum, you can make out Jervis grinning, the figures of Jonathan and Jerome disappearing behind you. For a moment you think they’ve left, until you feel Jerome kitten-lick a swipe of his and Jonathan’s own load off your face. Jerome’s hands roam over you wildly, tweaking your nipples to illicit another loud yelp from you. He cackles.

Jonathan takes Jervis’s previous place, uncut fingernails scratching up and down your ribcage, before swiftly rubbing at your soft nub of flesh. The pleasure is just too much for you, feeling three sets of hands claim you as their own. You taste Jerome and Jonathan’s cum as it drips into your swollen lips.

Jervis’s hand comes under your chin, delicatley moving your face to look at him. His thrusts are sharp in contrast, slapping into you at an animalistic pace. He drawls under his breath; smiling.

“Tight, isn’t she?”

Jerome hums in agreement, coming up from his spot on your neck to spit in your mouth. You’re forced to swallow. Jerome’s grin doesn’t waver as he responds, “Best pussy I’ve ever had.”

Jonathan doesn’t speak, but you can tell he’s giving a crooked smile under the mask. He presses a slap to the fat of your thigh, watching it jiggle underneath his palm.

Between Jerome’s tongue on your neck and nipples, Jonathan’s hand smacking and flicking against your cunny, and Jervis’s fast pace pounding into your pussy, you feel the knot in your stomach tighten in anticipation.

Beside yourself, you match Jervis’s movements, trying desperately to fuck for any friction you can get. Your hips lift into him, chasing your own orgasm.

The moment of bliss finally comes when Jerome’s hand comes to squeeze around your neck, playful gesture sending you over the edge. You find yourself cumming around nothing, Jervis’s cock already in position. Pussy twitching only around Jonathan’s cold fingers, Jervis’s thick ropes of cum land on your face, groaning as he does so. You feel the hot creamy liquid drip down your forehead into the contours of your cheeks.

You refrain from opening your eyes, not letting the cum sting even more. But you hear Jerome’s voice right in your ear.

“Good aim.” He praises Jervis, and you can picture his small grin in response.

“I’ll go get a towel. Stay.” Jonathan’s blunt tone calls, weight shifting on the bed. You feel Jerome cuddle up into your breasts, and Jervis trace small circles on your wrist, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

You feel your fucked out mouth form into a dazed smile of your own. You love your boys.

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muiitoloko · 16 days

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I’m sick with fever right now and I was thinking if you could write something about Alan’s character taking care of his partner? I don’t know which one but I need a rougher and older one to contrast with the fragility of his partner and to show him out of character? If you don’t want I totally understand.

Title: A Night of Softness.

Summary: On a cold, feverish night, Judge Turpin allows a moment of warmth to break through his stern exterior, holding his wife close as she drifts into sleep.

Pairing: Judge Turpin × Fem! Reader

Warnings: None.

Author's Notes: Oh no, I hope you feel better soon! 😔 I totally get the need for some comforting care, especially from a rougher, older character who shows that soft side we don't see often. So, guess what? I’m going to write something with Judge Turpin taking care of his partner! There’s something about that contrast that makes it all the more heartwarming. Stay cozy, and I hope this story will be like a warm blanket for you! 🌟

Also read on Ao3

Judge Richard Turpin strode into the grand foyer of his opulent mansion, the sound of his boots echoing off the marble floors. He removed his hat with a swift motion, handing it to a waiting servant, while another immediately stepped forward to help him with his heavy coat. The household was well-trained, as expected, and no one dared speak unless spoken to first.

“Where is my wife?” Turpin asked, his baritone voice cold and commanding, though there was a hint of impatience in his tone. He had little tolerance for deviations from the expected order of things, and his wife’s absence from their usual evening routine was an unwelcome surprise.

The servants exchanged uneasy glances, hesitant to be the one to deliver potentially displeasing news. Finally, one of them, an older man with a bowed head, stepped forward. “Milord, the mistress is in bed,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “She has not been well today.”

Turpin’s expression darkened, his hazel eyes narrowing in suspicion. “In bed? At this hour?” he repeated, the edge in his voice sharper now. It was almost dinner time, and such behavior was unseemly for a woman of her station.

“Forgive me, milord,” the servant continued, clearly uncomfortable under Turpin’s stern gaze. “I attempted to summon the physician, but the mistress would not allow it.”

Turpin hummed to himself, a low, thoughtful sound that made the servants shift nervously on their feet. He was not a man known for his patience or his kindness, and the idea that his wife had refused medical attention both irritated and perplexed him. Without another word, he turned on his heel and began to ascend the grand staircase, his steps measured and deliberate.

As he approached the bedroom, the heavy wooden door creaked open at his touch. The room was dimly lit, the curtains drawn to block out the waning light of the day. The large four-poster bed dominated the room, its thick, luxurious curtains partially drawn, giving it an air of seclusion.

His gaze fell upon you, lying in the center of the bed, your form half-buried under layers of blankets. Your usually bright eyes were dull with fever, and your skin, normally so fair and delicate, was pale with an unhealthy hue. Even in your weakened state, you seemed startled by his presence, your breath catching in your throat as you looked up at him.

“Milord,” you murmured weakly, your voice a mere whisper of its usual self. “I… I didn’t expect you so soon."

Turpin’s lips pressed into a thin line as he moved closer to the bed, his tall figure looming over you. He said nothing at first, simply studying you with those piercing hazel eyes that always seemed to see more than they revealed. Finally, he reached out, his hand cool against your burning forehead.

“You’re feverish,” he stated flatly, though there was an undercurrent of something else in his tone—something that almost resembled concern, though he would never admit it. “Why did you refuse the doctor?”

You hesitated, uncertain of how to answer. It was true that you had always been somewhat fragile, prone to bouts of illness that left you weak and bedridden. But you had never wanted to appear weak in his eyes, never wanted to be a burden to him. You were still so unsure of your place in his life, still so afraid that he only kept you because it suited his needs.

“I… I didn’t want to trouble you, milord,” you finally said, averting your gaze from his intense scrutiny. “It’s just a slight fever. It will pass.”

Turpin’s hand tightened slightly on your shoulder, his fingers digging into the fabric of your nightgown. “You are my wife,” he said, his voice low and stern. “It is my responsibility to ensure your well-being. I will not have you ignoring your health out of some misguided sense of not wanting to trouble me.”

His words, though harsh, carried a weight that left you momentarily speechless. It was rare for him to show any hint of concern for you, and it left you feeling more vulnerable than you cared to admit.

“I am sorry, milord,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly as you dared to look up at him once more. “I did not mean to worry you.”

For a moment, Turpin simply stared down at you, his expression inscrutable. Then, much to your surprise, he began to unfasten his cufflinks, rolling up his sleeves with an air of determination. Without a word, he turned and crossed the room to where a basin of water sat on a side table. He dipped a cloth into the cool water, wringing it out before returning to your side.

You watched in stunned silence as he gently pressed the damp cloth to your forehead, the coolness of it a welcome relief against your feverish skin. The action was so out of character for him, so far removed from the stern, imposing figure you had grown accustomed to, that you could hardly believe it was real.

“Rest,” he commanded softly, his voice a deep rumble that was almost soothing. “I will not leave your side until you are well again.”

You blinked up at him, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. The tenderness in his touch, the quiet resolve in his voice, it was more than you had ever dared hope for. For the first time since your marriage, you felt a glimmer of something more than fear or uncertainty—a small, fragile hope that perhaps there was more to this man than the cold, calculating exterior he so often showed the world.

As you closed your eyes, allowing the cool cloth and his steady presence to lull you into a much-needed rest, you couldn’t help but wonder if, beneath all his cruelty and sternness, there was a part of him that truly cared for you—a part that, for tonight at least, was willing to show itself.

As you drifted into a feverish sleep, Turpin remained by your side, his stern gaze fixed upon you. The room was silent, save for the soft crackle of the fire in the hearth and the occasional rustle of the curtains as a breeze slipped through the cracks of the old mansion. His mind, usually occupied with matters of the court and his own ambitions, was now solely focused on you—a rare occurrence that even he found unsettling.

He stood there as he had promised, unmoving, watching the rise and fall of your chest beneath the blankets. His hazel eyes, sharp and calculating in the courtroom, now softened as they traced the delicate features of your face. The fever had drained the color from your cheeks, but to him, you were still beautiful—something he had never told you, nor ever thought to. He had always believed that such sentiments were unnecessary, a weakness that had no place in his life. Yet here he was, unable to look away.

His hand, usually so firm and unyielding, hesitated before reaching out to touch a lock of your hair that had fallen across your forehead. The strands were cool and soft between his fingers, and he twirled them absently, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. He had never been one to show affection; it wasn’t in his nature. But there was something about the way you lay there, so vulnerable and fragile, that stirred an unfamiliar feeling within him—something that bordered on concern, though he would never admit it, not even to himself.

You murmured softly in your sleep, a faint sound that barely reached his ears, and he instinctively tightened his grip on the lock of hair, as if to reassure himself that you were still there, still breathing. The sight of you, so weakened and dependent on his care, made him uneasy. Turpin was a man accustomed to control, to power, and the thought that someone might actually rely on him, not out of fear but out of need, was a concept he had never fully grasped.

"Rest," he muttered under his breath, echoing the command he had given you earlier. His voice, even in this quiet moment, held its usual gruff authority, but there was a softness there as well—a reluctant tenderness that surprised even him.

He continued to play with your hair, his thoughts drifting to the last six months of your marriage. You had been little more than a pawn in his life, someone to fulfill the societal expectations of a man in his position. He had married you out of convenience, and perhaps a desire to possess something beautiful, something pure in his otherwise dark and corrupt world. But as he stood there, watching over you in your most vulnerable state, he couldn’t deny that you had become more to him than just a possession.

You stirred again, your fevered brow furrowing slightly, and he placed the cloth back on your forehead, his touch surprisingly gentle. It was a strange thing, this care he was giving you. He had always seen himself as a man above such sentiments, a man who took what he wanted and discarded what no longer served him. But with you, it was different. You were different.

His thoughts darkened as he considered how little you knew of his true nature, how little you understood the man you had married. There was cruelty in him, a deep-seated malice that had shaped his life and his decisions. He was a man of power, a judge who had condemned countless souls to their fates without a second thought. He was feared, hated even, by those who knew him, and yet here you were, lying so trustingly in his bed, under his care.

Turpin’s grip on your hair loosened as he let out a long, measured breath. He knew he wasn’t a good man—he had never pretended to be. But for some reason, the idea of you seeing him as anything other than your protector, your husband, unsettled him. He had never cared about anyone’s opinion of him before, yet with you, it was different. The thought of you fearing him, of you seeing the darkness within him, left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He withdrew his hand, letting the lock of hair fall back onto the pillow. His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he straightened, his expression hardening. There was no place for softness in his life, no place for the kind of care he was showing you now. And yet, as he turned to leave the room, he found himself hesitating at the door, glancing back at you one last time.

“Sleep well, my wife,” he whispered, the words barely audible, as if he were ashamed of them.

And with that, Judge Richard Turpin left the room, the door closing softly behind him. In the quiet solitude of his grand mansion, he allowed himself to care—just this once. Because even a man as cold and cruel as Turpin could not entirely extinguish the small flicker of warmth that your presence had ignited within him.

Turpin descended the grand staircase of his opulent mansion, his mind still occupied with the image of you lying feverish in the bed upstairs. The cool marble beneath his boots was a stark contrast to the warmth of your skin that lingered on his fingertips. As he reached the bottom of the stairs, the flickering candlelight cast long, ominous shadows against the ornate walls, giving the mansion an eerie, almost foreboding atmosphere.

Turpin’s expression hardened as he made his way through the dimly lit corridors, his sharp hazel eyes narrowing with renewed focus. The brief moment of tenderness he had shown upstairs was an anomaly, one he intended to swiftly bury beneath the weight of his usual demeanor. There was no room for weakness in his life, no place for sentimentality. He was a man of power, of control, and he would not allow himself to be swayed by fleeting emotions.

Reaching the servant’s quarters, Turpin’s presence was immediately noted by the staff, who scrambled to stand at attention, their eyes cast downward in a display of submission. He surveyed them with a cold, calculating gaze, his hooked nose casting a long shadow across his face. The silence in the room was suffocating, broken only by the crackling of the fireplace.

"Prepare a vegetable soup," Turpin commanded, his baritone voice cutting through the air like a knife. There was no kindness in his tone, only the strict expectation that his orders would be followed without question. "It is to be brought to the mistress’s room in one hour. Ensure it is hot and well-prepared. I will not tolerate any mistakes."

The servants nodded quickly, their heads bobbing in unison like frightened animals. "Yes, milord," one of them managed to stammer, her voice trembling under his withering gaze.

Turpin’s lip curled in disdain as he dismissed them with a wave of his hand, the gesture sharp and final. "Go," he barked, his voice laced with impatience. "Do not waste my time with your idle chatter. And be silent when you deliver it—she needs rest, not your simpering voices."

The servants scurried away, eager to carry out his orders and avoid further ire. Turpin watched them go, his expression one of cold satisfaction. He had no tolerance for incompetence, especially not in his own household. He expected nothing less than perfection from those under his command, and he had long since trained his staff to fear the consequences of failure.

With the matter settled, Turpin turned on his heel and made his way toward his office. The echo of his footsteps filled the empty hallways, a sound that had long since become synonymous with his presence in the mansion. His office was a place of solitude, a sanctuary where he could immerse himself in his work and shut out the world. It was here that he plotted and schemed, where he wielded his power like a weapon, ensuring that all who crossed him would come to regret it.

The heavy wooden door to his office creaked as he pushed it open, the dark mahogany panels gleaming in the firelight. He stepped inside, the scent of leather and aged parchment filling his senses as he closed the door behind him, sealing himself off from the rest of the mansion.

Turpin crossed the room, his hand brushing against the rows of leather-bound books that lined the walls. These books contained the knowledge and the power that he had amassed over the years, a testament to his cunning and ruthlessness. He pulled out a chair from behind his imposing desk and sat down, the leather creaking softly under his weight.

As he settled into his chair, his thoughts drifted back to you, lying weak and feverish in the bed upstairs. The memory of your soft, flushed skin and the sound of your labored breathing stirred something dark within him, a desire that he had kept tightly controlled, yet one that threatened to break free.

Turpin’s fingers drummed against the surface of the desk as he considered the irony of it all—here you were, so fragile and delicate, dependent on his care, yet entirely unaware of the depths of his cruelty, of the twisted thoughts that lurked behind his stern exterior. You saw him as a protector, perhaps even as a husband who might care for you, but in truth, he was far more complicated than that.

The power he wielded over you, over everyone in his life, was intoxicating, and it pleased him to see how easily you had submitted to his authority. You were his wife in name, but in reality, you were his possession, a beautiful object that he could mold and control as he saw fit. The thought sent a thrill down his spine, and he leaned back in his chair, a dark smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

But there was something else too, something that gnawed at the edges of his thoughts—a need for something more, something that went beyond mere control. The way you had looked up at him earlier, your eyes filled with fear and uncertainty, had stirred a desire in him that he had not felt in a long time—a desire not just to possess you, but to break you, to see you fully submit to him in every way.

He imagined you again, lying in that bed, but this time, it was not illness that weakened you, but him. You would look up at him with those same fearful eyes, your body trembling under his touch, as he took what he wanted, what he believed was rightfully his. The thought of it sent a wave of heat through him, and he could feel his control slipping, his mind drifting into darker, more forbidden territories.

Turpin’s breath quickened as he considered the possibilities, his hand tightening around the armrest of his chair. He knew he should suppress these thoughts, should focus on his work, but the temptation was too strong, too alluring to resist. You were upstairs, weak and vulnerable, completely at his mercy, and the idea of taking advantage of that vulnerability was intoxicating.

He rose from his chair, his movements deliberate, as if each step required a conscious effort to suppress the darker impulses that urged him forward. He exited the office, the heavy door creaking as it closed behind him, and made his way back upstairs to the bedroom. The corridors were silent, the only sound the soft padding of his boots against the thick carpets that lined the floors.

When he reached the bedroom door, he paused, his hand resting on the doorknob as he took a deep breath. He had come here with the intention of taking advantage of your weakened state, to claim what he believed was his by right. Yet now, as he stood on the threshold, something gave him pause. A part of him—a small, buried part—whispered that this was not the way, that he was about to cross a line from which there would be no return.

He opened the door slowly, the hinges creaking softly as he stepped inside. The room was just as he had left it, dimly lit and quiet, with only the soft rustle of the curtains and the faint crackle of the fire breaking the silence. You were still asleep, your breathing shallow and even, the cool cloth he had placed on your forehead still in place.

Turpin approached the bed, his footsteps soundless on the thick carpet. He stood over you for a moment, his hazel eyes tracing the delicate lines of your face, the way your lashes fluttered slightly against your flushed cheeks. You were so peaceful, so vulnerable in your sleep, and the sight of you stirred something deep within him—a protectiveness that was at odds with the darker desires that had driven him here.

Slowly, he reached out and took hold of the edge of the blanket, gently pulling it back to reveal your form beneath. You were dressed in a simple nightgown, the fabric clinging to your feverish skin, and the sight of you like this—so soft, so helpless—made his breath hitch in his throat.

He hesitated, his hand hovering above your chest, the warmth of your body radiating up to meet his cool fingers. His intention had been clear when he first entered the room, but now, as he stood there, the reality of what he was about to do washed over him like a cold wave. You stirred slightly in your sleep, a soft sigh escaping your lips, and he felt a pang of guilt pierce his heart.

Turpin’s hand trembled as he lowered it to your throat, his fingers lightly tracing the delicate line of your collarbone. The touch was gentle, almost reverent, and it was enough to wake you from your fevered slumber. Your eyes fluttered open, hazy and unfocused at first, before they slowly came into focus on his face.

“Richard?” you murmured, your voice weak and confused as you looked up at him, your brows furrowing slightly in concern.

Turpin froze, the sound of his name on your lips jolting him back to reality. For a moment, he couldn’t speak, his breath caught in his throat as he stared down at you, his hand still resting lightly against your throat. He had come here with every intention of taking advantage of you, yet now, as you looked up at him with those wide, trusting eyes, he found that he couldn’t go through with it.

“Shh,” he finally whispered, his voice rough and strained as he pulled his hand away from your throat, the touch lingering longer than he had intended. “Go back to sleep.”

You blinked up at him, your expression softening as you realized who he was. “Richard… I… I was dreaming,” you mumbled, your voice still thick with sleep as you reached up to touch his hand, the gesture weak but full of trust. “Are you… are you staying?”

Turpin hesitated, his mind racing as he tried to reconcile the conflicting emotions within him. He had never been a man who showed kindness easily, yet something about the way you looked at him now, with such vulnerability, made it impossible for him to refuse.

“I’m here,” he said gruffly, his tone rougher than he intended as he gently pushed your hand back down to your side. “Now, rest.”

You nodded weakly, the tension in your body easing as you let out a soft sigh. “Thank you, Richard,” you whispered.

Turpin stood there for a moment longer, his hand hovering above your head as if uncertain whether to touch you again or pull away. Finally, he reached out and gently brushed a stray lock of hair from your forehead, the motion careful and deliberate. He had never been one to show affection, but for some reason, this small gesture felt right.

You kept looking at him, your feverish eyes fixed on his stern face, searching for something that you couldn’t quite name. Turpin, ever the gruff and stoic man, shifted uncomfortably under your gaze. His hazel eyes, usually so sharp and unyielding, flickered with irritation as he glanced away, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Close your eyes and sleep,” he grumbled, his tone laced with impatience. “You need rest.”

You didn’t respond immediately, still watching him as if trying to decipher a puzzle. There was a strange vulnerability in your gaze, one that made him feel uneasy, as though you were peeling back layers of his carefully constructed armor with just a look.

“I don’t want to sleep,” you whispered after a moment, your voice soft but determined. The usual hesitance was gone, replaced by a quiet resolve. “Not anymore.”

Turpin’s brow furrowed at your words, and he turned back to you with a frown. “What nonsense is this?” he muttered, his tone harsher than intended. “You’re ill. Sleep is what you need.”

You hesitated, biting your lower lip as you considered your next words. There was something about this moment, something fragile and fleeting, that made you want to reach out to him in a way you had never dared before. Perhaps it was the fever that emboldened you, or perhaps it was the sight of him sitting there, rigid and uncomfortable, yet not leaving your side, that made you feel braver than usual.

“Richard…” you began, your voice trembling slightly as you looked down at your hands, wringing them nervously in your lap. “Could we… could we cuddle? Just for a little while?”

Turpin stiffened at your request, his eyes widening in surprise before narrowing into a glare. “No,” he replied flatly, his voice brooking no argument as he crossed his arms even tighter against his chest. “That’s out of the question.”

You nodded, but your gaze didn’t drop. Instead, you scooted closer to him on the bed, ignoring the way his eyes flashed with irritation as you did so. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you knew you were being bold—recklessly so—but there was a need within you, a desperate longing for comfort that you couldn’t suppress.

Before Turpin could react, you reached out and wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a tentative hug. He froze instantly, his body going rigid beneath your touch, as though the very idea of such an embrace was utterly foreign to him. And perhaps it was, for you had never done this before, had never even thought to. But the need for closeness, for warmth, was stronger than the fear of his reaction.

For a long, tense moment, Turpin didn’t move. He sat there, stiff as a board, his hazel eyes wide with shock, staring down at the top of your head where it rested against his chest. His mind raced, trying to process what was happening, trying to reconcile this unexpected display of affection with the cold, controlled life he had always led.

“W-What are you doing?” he finally stammered, his baritone voice uncharacteristically shaky.

You didn’t answer immediately, your grip on him tightening just slightly as you buried your face against the coarse fabric of his vest. You felt his heartbeat beneath your cheek, strong and steady, and it brought you a strange sense of comfort, as though in that moment, the world beyond this room didn’t exist.

“I just needed… some comfort,” you mumbled, your voice muffled against his chest. “Just for a little while.”

Turpin blinked, utterly bewildered by your words. Comfort? It was a concept so alien to him, so far removed from the cold, calculated existence he had built for himself, that he didn’t know how to respond. He had never been one for physical affection, had never seen the point of it, and yet here you were, clinging to him like he was some kind of lifeline.

He opened his mouth to protest, to tell you to let go, but the words died on his lips as he felt the slight tremor in your body. It wasn’t just the fever that made you shake; it was something more, something deeper. And for reasons he couldn’t quite understand, that realization softened something inside him.

With a reluctant sigh, Turpin slowly, almost awkwardly, brought his arms down from his chest and placed them around you, his movements stiff and uncertain. He had never done this before, had never held someone like this, and it felt strange—both uncomfortable and oddly reassuring at the same time.

“There,” he muttered gruffly, his voice lacking its usual edge. “But just for a little while.”

You smiled against his chest, the small victory warming you more than any blanket could. His embrace was far from tender, but it was enough. It was more than you had ever expected from him, and in that moment, it was everything.

Turpin, for his part, remained silent, his eyes staring straight ahead as he tried to ignore the strange, fluttering sensation in his chest. He told himself this was just a temporary indulgence, that he was simply allowing you to calm yourself so that you could get the rest you needed. But as the minutes ticked by, and your breathing grew slow and even against him, he found that he didn’t mind it as much as he thought he would.

“Go to sleep,” he whispered, his voice softening despite himself.

You didn’t answer—your breathing had already evened out, and Turpin realized with a start that you had fallen asleep in his arms. He looked down at you, his expression softening as he took in the peaceful look on your face, the way your body had relaxed completely against him.

“Foolish girl,” he murmured, though there was no malice in his words, only a kind of reluctant affection that he didn’t quite know what to do with.

For a long time, Turpin remained there, holding you in the dim light of the room, his stern demeanor giving way to a strange, unfamiliar warmth. He knew that when morning came, he would return to his usual self—distant, cold, and unyielding. But for tonight, he allowed himself this small moment of softness, this brief indulgence in something he had long denied himself.

Because even the grumpiest of old men, it seemed, could not entirely resist the simple comfort of holding someone close.

#alan rickman #alan rickman x reader #judge turpin x reader #judge turpin

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ceilidho · 1 year

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prompt: Soap being a funny, goofy flirt with his barista whenever he's on leave back home….super cocky and charming, then a couple months go by …. and he comes back sort of rougher around the edges after Las Almas. less trusting. a bit meaner when he talks to her….. [soap/reader] 2.5k; nsfw (on ao3)

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

He’s back again. It’s not a usual occurrence, but when it happens your heart kicks into overdrive. He appears like clockwork every couple of months, and then back to back over a quick succession of days. Like he’s in town one week and then gone the next.

You look up from where you’re organizing the muffins in the display case to find him grinning down at you from the other side. His hair is freshly shorn on both sides, the stripe of hair down the middle likely barely long enough for him to work his thick fingers through it. He’s got a cocksure grin spread across his lips. A fresh cut over his right eyebrow, a butterfly bandage over it.

“Hi John,” you say. It’s almost a struggle to say the words. Your hands shake a bit where they’re extended out amongst the pastries, fingers pressing into a carrot muffin a bit too hard. It dents beneath your fingers. You pull them out, rest the tongs behind you on the countertop.

“Hi kitty cat,” he purrs, folding his arms over the pastry case, leaning as close to you as he can. If it were anyone else, you might be tempted to scold them for smudging the glass. It’s you that’ll have to clean that up later. “Not Johnny anymore? Have I been gone for too long?”

Charm like butter spread thick over freshly toasted sourdough, already melting into the bread, dripping onto the plate between the pockets of air. You know he could ruin you if he wanted to, if you let him in.

You know it won’t be long until you fold. He hasn’t been subtle about it. “Sorry, Johnny, we’re all out of scones.”

“Aw, that’s how you apologize for tossing up my morning?”

You twiddle your thumbs. “Sorry.”

“‘Have to do better than tha’, kitty cat,” Johnny says, lips drawn into a faux pout that has your heart skittering in your chest like it’s been let loose from the stables for once. “I was waiting for those scones for near a month."

“We have cream buns,” you offer. He snorts.

“Not in the mood for anything cream filled just yet.”

There isn’t a shade of red deep enough to describe your face. “Pardon?”

“Ye fancy going for a bevvy tonight?” Johnny asks instead, evading the question.

You probably look as gobsmacked as you feel. It’s not like you haven’t been asked out on dates before, but Johnny is leagues away from any of the men you’ve dated. He’s cockier, back straight and chest out, flaunting the muscles strapped across his chest and arms. You think it’s reasonable that you’ve chalked his flirting up to habit, something he does with everyone; whatever distance you’ve put between yourself and your inevitable nervous breakdown has been built on assuring yourself that Johnny surely didn’t mean for you to take his flirting seriously.

Apparently, you were wrong.

“You want to take me out?” you ask, sounding a bit dumb.

“‘Course I do.” He cocks an eyebrow, leveling you with an obvious look. “Haven’t been shy about it; s’a bit tough when I’m all over the place these days, but I’m in town for the next two weeks, so we’ve got some time. When you getting off today, kitty cat?”

Johnny leans farther over the countertop, towering over you now that you aren’t standing on the raised platform by the pastry case. Palms spread wide over the granite; when your eyes flit down, you can’t help the way they’re drawn to the dark, livid tattoos crawling up his forearms. Dark ink like they’re new trophies on his skin.

His attention is always like the sun; your whole body burns under his gaze. There’s something about being stared at so intensely, blue eyes raking down the front of you, that makes you unsure.

He buys a croissant instead, tenner pressed gently into the palm of your hand. You're tempted to deflect, tell him you aren't interested.

“Seven,” you whisper instead, hands shaking when you hand him his change.

His hand closes around yours, callused fingers rough against your skin. “Got it. Pick you up seven sharp.”

When he leaves, you barely hear the jingle behind him, the blood pounding in your ears. You have a date.

Your chest is tight for hours, thinking about your date later that evening. He picks you up after your shift, just as you’re locking up; you thought you’d have a couple minutes to head back to your apartment and freshen up, but you find him waiting outside the coffee shop for you, clad in a black hoodie and the same jeans as earlier.

He’s as slick and gentlemanly as you might’ve anticipated, walking you to the pub with a hand nestled against your low back. You talk for what seems like hours tucked away in the corner. Johnny makes good conversation, but sometimes it feels a bit like an interrogation. He’s talkative, but there’s a faint edge underlying everything he does; he makes you wait for him at your table while he orders for the two of you at the bar, taking the seat facing you so you’re ensconced in his shadow, hidden from anyone else in the pub.

He insists on walking you back to your place, boots splattering through the puddles accumulating between the cobblestones. He makes sure you walk on the dry side. Every light you pass under sweeps across his face in a golden arc, illuminating the corner edge of his jawline, the plush spread of his lips, the furl of his ear like a nautilus shell. Brows that slope over deep set eyes.

When he leaves you off at the door, Johnny’s hand curls in the hairs at the back of your neck and tugs you up for a kiss that goes scorching hot. Fingers tangled in your hair, other hand coming up to cup your cheek, holding you in place. You feel trapped, helpless against the onslaught of him; a hot tongue flicks into your mouth and he groans, making your head spin. You feel it resonate through you.

“Johnny—” you mumble when he pulls away for a second, cut off when he leans back in to suckle at your bottom lip. His beard is bristly against the soft skin around your mouth.

You feel him smirk against your lips. He nips at the lower one. “I’ll see ya tomorrow, a’right, kitty cat?”

Johnny only looks the slightest bit disheveled when he pulls away. A thumb traces your lower lip. He briefly looks regretful, like he wants to bend down again for another one—you feel the intention when he presses his thumb ever so slightly past your lips—but then he pulls back, walking backwards down the street away from you. A hand raised in goodbye.

Then the next day, he’s gone. Vanished into thin air. You glance up whenever the wind chimes over the door jingle, but it’s never him, always someone with a different hat, a different face.

You thought he promised you two weeks this time. Your chest collapses when the door opens and someone else walks in. Apparently he spoke too soon.

Two days go by; you’re fighting the desperation to know. It oddly never crosses your mind to think that he’s ghosting you. Maybe it should. You hardly know him outside of the brief interactions you have every other month when he’s back from wherever he works (and you know that it’s all top secret, hush hush, you’ve seen the military tattoos and kept your questions to yourself), but it doesn’t feel—and you think this with no small degree of irony—like something he’d do.

On the walk home, you often catch yourself looking for the familiar shape of him. Wandering past the shops closing up for the night, people piling into the bars, raucous voices tumbling up into the smoky sky; you stand on your tiptoes on the other side of the street and peer in, looking for the broad shape of his back.

You never spot him. There is a cold gap in your life that goes unfilled. It smarts at the root of you; you didn’t think you could miss Johnny. You thought you could feel a twinge of regret every now and then for not indulging his flirting a bit more, but you had honestly shelved him higher than you could reach in your desires. Until he took you out and listened to you ramble on, listened deeply with his attention rapt, his cheek pressed into his fist as he leaned against the table towards you. Until he whisked you safely back home and held you in place while he sipped kisses from your mouth until your lips were swollen.

It’s months later when you hear it.

“Hi kitty.”

Your blood goes hot at the sound of his voice. When you whip around, Johnny’s on the other side of the counter like he never left. Black shirt that clings to the curve of his biceps, old jeans with fades around the knees and thighs stretched around his thighs.

When you meet his eyes, they seem charged, steadier than usual. Flat lips turned up just at the corner, one side only. Johnny’s not usually so still, so grounded on his feet; there’s usually a frenetic undercurrent to him, like catching a live wire. You don’t know what he’s like out in the real world, but in your world he looks like he paces and runs to work himself free of all the extra energy. Maybe other forms of cardio.

“Johnny, you’re—” You catch yourself before the words tumble out, before you make it known that you’ve been tossing and turning late at night wondering where he went. Blue eyes sparkle like they hear it anyway, the faint note of desperation seeping into your voice like a hoarseness.

“Fancy going for a bevvy tonight?” he asks you again. Less of a question this time.

You feel pulled to him on a string. He doesn’t leave you in peace this time. He waits you out, sits at a table in the coffee shop facing you. Customers you’ve known for years seem entranced by him, and how could they not? They don’t make them like him often—tall and blue eyed, roguish; ruggedly handsome when the mood strikes. Pretty boy until he turns the full weight of his stare on you and you’re forced to contend with the fact that he is, in fact, all man.

Your amity turns to enmity when someone stares at him for too long. Placated only because Johnny never so much as turns their way.

Dinner is a long, drawn out affair. His conversation is rougher than usual, punctuated by bouts of silence. His eyes are murky waters. Something’s changed, you think, salad speared on your fork, hovering just in front of your mouth, studying him. Something happened in the months that he was away. Whatever it was, it’s left Johnny a bit more calculating, less trusting. He sits facing the door this time, eyes flicking up whenever it opens on the other side of the restaurant.

“Sorry, angel, don’t have it in me to be sweet and gentle anymore,” Johnny says when he walks you to your doorstep. “‘Fraid it’s gonna be rough for you from now on.”

His words make you tremble.

The kiss at your doorstep doesn’t end there this time. Maybe this is all an extension of that moment months ago, the natural endpoint. You were never going to end up anywhere else but flat on your back under him.

“Pure gaggin' fer it, aren’t ya, kitty?”

Johnny’s voice is rough, barely a rumble over the sound of your own keening. Your whole body slides up the bed every time he ruts into you, thick cock spearing you open. Your hands slip over his shoulders where a layer of sweat has built up; your bodies slide together like you’ve been at it for hours, rather than just the thirty minutes since Johnny bodied his way into your place and made you guide him to the bedroom, shucking his clothes the whole way there.

“No, I would’ve—” You gasp on a particularly rough thrust, teeth clenching together, “—I would’ve w-waited. Oh god, oh god.”

“Haud yer' wheesht, bonnie, quit whining,” he grunts. “Dinnae act like you weren’t asking for a big cock in this cunt. Could hear her purring behind the counter. Needed it for months, didn’t ya?”

You knew this was in him somehow, this penchant for dirty talk. He’s always moved like it was in him. You feel swept away by it, scorching under his hands and tongue and dick. Tightly wound. Only capable of holding on, one hand clenched now in the lowest part of his mohawk while he ducks his head to suck your nipple into his mouth. When he gives it a mean bite, you squirm and cry out.

“Never thought you were s-serious,” you admit, whimpering when he nips again at the tender spot there.

Johnny draws back onto his haunches, still deep in you. There are scars across his chest that you didn’t notice before. New skin frosted over, deep gouges across his arms; what you think looks like a bullet wound. Your eyes go wide. It’s impossible to think what he must have been through.

He looms over you, hand coming up to curl delicately around your throat. Just enough to let you know that he’s there, that he’s got you right where he wants. Johnny smiles wide, wicked, white teeth stark in the darkness of your room.

“Oh, I’m very serious, kitty,” he laughs, deep and throaty. He thrusts languidly into your heat now, drawing it out.

He makes a show of it when he comes, fingers tightening around your neck. Your breath hitches in your throat. It strikes you in the moment that you let him in bare, trusted him despite months of absence and no real excuse for it. When he pulls out, you feel it leak from you. Frustration boils under your skin because you haven’t come yet; you feel almost betrayed, a whiplash reaction that has tears welling up in your ears.

“Don’t worry,” Johnny coos at the sight of your pinched face, “you’ll get yours, bonnie. Gonna treat this kitty real nice.”

You struggle against his hold when he forces your legs wide and slots himself between them, making his way down the bed. He tongues deep into your cunt to lick his own spend out. Your thoughts dribble out of you, head empty; there’s nothing left in you except bone-deep exhaustion and the feel of his bearded cheeks scraping against your inner thighs.

You flinch like you’ve been shocked when he sucks at your clit, hypersensitive. He laughs when you do, doubling his efforts. His hot mouth on the place where he still drips from you might make you lose it completely. The most wounded sound bubbles out of you. Your hand trembles in his hair, torn between pulling his mouth closer and pushing him away.

He doesn’t relent until you’ve come twice, your face flush with blood. When his tongue flicks over your clit again, it’s for the pleasure of seeing your legs spasm.

“Johnny, please—can’t anymore,” you beg, trying to press your foot against his shoulder to push him away.

His chin glistens with your juices. When he runs his tongue across his bottom lip, plump and swollen, you drag in a harsh breath. Maybe you could go again.

“Kitty, I’ve had a rough couple weeks,” he says, voice light but for where it descends into a memory, deep and dark. “Just let me eat your cunt and we’ll talk about everything later, okay?”

Your fingers tingle like they’ve fallen asleep in his hair. When you give in, it feels inevitable.

#cod mw2 #ceil writing #cod soap #johnny soap mactavish #johnny mactavish #johnny mactavish x reader #soap x reader #soap/reader #soap mw2 #soap cod #cod x reader #soap call of duty #soap mactavish

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