#and /I/ get called TOO SENSITIVE when asking them too be a bit more careful

[dollyichi]

JUST SHUT UP!

kirishima eijirou always talks you through it. maybe a bit too much. ᯓ★ 1.8k words. m—dni. f ! reader / established relationship / f!ngering / unprotected (don’t be like them!) / reader’s very impatient and a little mean / sappy in one bit / not proofread

eijirou who’s doing his best to ignore his own cock that’s all twitchy and needy. already leaking with so much pre his cute red boxers had a big damp spot that you unfortunately couldn’t see. you’re laying on your chest with your ass up for him. face buried into the pillows as you bite into the cushion every time his fingers teased your hole.

however, he’s so fucking talkative it’s pissing you off. “baby you touched yourself lots didn’t ya?” he says with a huff, angling his fingers to that sweet spot you like so much. you groan into the pillow, grasping on the sheets. “you’re so wet and soft you don’t even realize i have three fingers in.”

“h-hahh! kiri just put i-it in… f-fuck-” you’re so sure your mouth is covered in your own spit from how long he’s kept you in that position. kneading your ass with one hand, fucking your pussy with the other. his fingers always felt better than your own and anything you use on it but it’s never enough when he can just fuck you with his dick.

“you mad at me baby? you don’t call me kiri remember?”

wasting so much time, unnecessary riling you up when you’ve been ‘so good’ for him preparing yourself so he could just jump you when he came over but no, he’s taking his sweet, sweet time prepping and fingering you as he pleased.

“don’t bite the pillow baby, i wanna hear you.” it’s so condescending almost. leaning over, whispering in your ear while his fingers continue to reach further and further. “come on, tell me how much you like it, wanna hear you some more.” this was probably the third time he’s ever fucked you ever since you’ve been together. the first time was nice, the second time was even better. a week has gone by and he was just so occupied that you made yourself busy.

you’re sick of doing it all alone and even when you mewl and whine, telling him whatever he’s doing ‘isn’t necessary anymore’ he refuses and tells you “awe hold on a little more i gotta do this for you baby~ just wanna take care of you.” and you huff and squeal, hiding your face away because you’ve really had enough. “searched up on it so i can make you feel even better.”

you really wonder how he gathered so much confidence in just a week when the past two encounters were him acting all shy. but then again, he could say the same for you. suddenly pulling him in a kiss and turning around so he could finally hold and touch you… though less holding as you wished.

he’s touched you so much you’re more sensitive than ever. you’ve lost all strength in your hands while you knees start to shake. “fuck baby your pussy’s so naughty. even louder than that pretty mouth of yours.” you don’t even know if your eyes are rolling back cause you’re so overwhelmed or frustrated. “you’re taking s’damn long eiji…” you croaked out, trying to lower your hips so you could turn around but he gets grip on you.

“hah… wanna fuck you so bad.” you whimper, moving your hips against his fingers to get some type of release. “wanna do it like this baby? or you wanna see your boyfriend make a mess of you?”

“wan-want to see you… eiji… p-please?” you ask with tearful eyes, looking back at him while your mouth quivers. he immediately gives in when he sees the drool at the corner of your lips. he pulls out his fingers and it’s still so slow.

he turns you around with ease, laying you down properly. kissing you all over your face, moving your hair out of the way. “i’m sorry baby i teased you too much didn’t i?”

you click your tongue, “you’re a d-dummy.” he chuckles, bringing his hand to your face that’s covered in slick. “you looked so good i wanna eat you out.”

“i’ll kill you if you make me wait again.” you sneer.

he takes his cock out of his boxers, teasing them in between your folds while he sucked on his fingers. “hahh baby you taste so good.”

“bet you’re just gonna gush around my cock when i finally put it in.” you wished he just shut up. “look how easy my cocks gliding through, so damn wet.” god you really wanted to shut him up.

so you swat his hand away from his own cock, lining him up yourself and pushing slightly, already engulfing his tip inside. he’s already moaning when he gets the feel of your walls clamping around him. “n-no baby~ i didn’t get to put a condom!”

you’re wrapping your legs around his waist and he had no choice but to move. his inches getting further and further up inside. breathy moans escaped his lips cause you’re still so tight even when he fingered you longer this time.

when he’s fully in a whimper escape his lips. ducking his head at the side of your neck, staying still for just a little while because he was sure he was gonna cum right there. “s-shit… your pretty little cunt’s just so good for me baby. s’too good for me.” your wrap your hands around him. a hand rubbing the back of head. it was sweet, as if you were the one comforting him. but you never recalled caring even a little bit.

you move by yourself, bucking your hips upwards, making sure you feel all of him. “s-s’big eiji~” he hisses when he’s balls deep in. and you’re moaning so sweetly whenever his tip hit that extra special spot that only his cock can reach.

“hnghh no baby don’t move y-yet~ just wait a little bit-“ as if you were gonna listen to him like he refused you earlier. your grip on his is just so deliciously tight he’s really gathering whatever strength he has in his head to not cum. definitely not manly when his lover doesn’t cum first.

“please s-stop baby i’ll move okay? we’ll p-pace it out together.” and you don’t listen. again pathetically rutting up against him. but he stops you just in time with his hands on your hips. pushing it down while he tries to distract himself by the wallpaper you have in your room.

you groan in his ear, whispering how much you needed him. complaining about how much he teased you, how he’s wasting so much time. “eiji just fuck me.” god even your voice alone’s gonna make him cum.

eijirou takes a breath through his nose, proceeds to leave kisses at the sides of your head as he finally thrusts.

in and out, in and out. you’re already scratching at the skin of his back. “h-ahh you love this baby? w-when i- when i f-fuck you like this?”

you hum, knowing your voice would break if you even muster up a sentence. your eyes flutter when he angled his hips. he’s just so deep inside. “could do this forever you know? fucking into your pussy.”

“pretty baby say my name so i can fuck you e-even harder.” he grunts. breathy and short while he’s busying his mind. it was a week for him you know? a week without you—he didn’t think he’d be this reactive to you. “e-eiji~” it’s so adorable to think how you were acting all mean earlier. “mhm baby. gonna fuck you so well to make up for lost time.”

eijirou’s jaw clenches with every thrust, building up the momentum, hips rolling against your that has you weaker and weaker. the sounds of your sex all wet and gushing around the room while the creaks of the bed echoed. you were sure of it that if any of your next-door neighbors were at home they’d hear you both fucking like rabbits. he’s fucking into you so hard you’re almost worried that the headboard would snap in half.

“i love you so much baby.” he’s so damn cute. you couldn’t help but sniffle on his shoulder. burying your face at the crook of his neck while he continued to exclaim his affection.

you admit, your impatience was just a facade under all that sadness you built up over the week. one message a day, no calls, an empty bed space, a lonely dinner—you’ve missed him so much. touching yourself was even worse because all you could see when you close your eyes is your lover talking to you. finally in such a warm embrace you’re hearing him. but in your defense, he just talks to much (you don’t hate it though!)

just a few more thrusts you knew the tight knot in your tummy’s going to snap any second. the more frantic you’re grasping onto him the easier he knew just how close you were. “tell me how it feels baby~”

“i love it!” was all that got out of you. repeatedly in between soft screams and whines. sobbing underneath him while you’re waiting for your release. “th-think i’m gonna cum too baby.”

“k-kiss… together…” he smiles, cupping your face to kiss you. smashing your lips against each other.

hips start to stagger. thrusts getting sloppier, sounds getting wetter. you’re both moaning on each other’s tongues that you had to pull away, “hnnghh! cumming! eiji!”

“i’m here baby, i’m here, let it all out. cum for me- cum for me baby.” and it hits you, crying out while you pull him onto your chest, walls gushing and twitching around him who’s fucking you through your orgasm. “you’re so perfect fuck.” his breath hitches when you clench around him again. your eyes continued to flutter, still in your own high.

“just a little more okay?” you whimper, this time no longer able to respond verbally. letting him use you despite how much it’s overwhelming you, how you could feel your slick and his tip hitting with his every movement, how his skin turned sticky against your because of the sweat.

kirishima rolls his hips a little more before pulling out swiftly. pulling you in a kiss while he jerked himself off, “gonna- g-gonna cum baby.”

you’re getting all worked up again seeing him desperately jerking himself off. “you’re so sexy eiji.” was the last thing he heard before his cock squirting pretty thick white lines of his cum on your tummy.

he plops down beside you and you play with the cum on you, slowly scooping them up with two fingers, sucking them off on your mouth and eijirou watches you with a gulp.

teasingly you tell him, “awe eiji~ you taste so good.” returning the ‘favor’ from earlier. he’s put himself in a trap, all out in the open like this. you just had no choice but to eat him all up again, this time with his mouth shut.

do not copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost my works

note : ohmygod writing this was like... i was in a trance. pls do not mind the minor mistakes it's like just typing one word after the other i just wanted to let this out!!!!! anyways i miss him so much actually can we please talk about him more >< also tried a gray theme for this one lmk if it’s nice ><

[jjwistar]

( drabble ) vampiro ̨ ! 𓉸ྀི 一 이해찬 ՞

vampire!haechan x f!reader • NSFW (mdni)

genre: smut cw: oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (p in v), dirty talk, creampie, yandere vibes; reqs: open | m.list

vampire!haechan who was absolutely and completely obsessed with you. he's seen a lot of attractive people in his life, but you were by far the most enchanting creature he's ever laid eyes on—which says a lot considering he's been alive for the best part of the last 500 years.

vampire!haechan who would follow you at night just to make sure you were safe. he wouldn't call it stalking as he had no intention of hurting you or anything like that, but just knowing you were safe would put his non-pumping heart at ease.

vampire!hyuck who was a huge bit of a perv. he knew where you lived, obviously. and sometimes he'd sneak into your room to watch you sleep, utterly smitten with you. and sometimes, during your deep slumber, he'd snag a panty or two—he'd have them wrapped around his thick and aching cock during the nights when his thoughts were solely focused on you and your addicting scent:

"fuck y-y/n... wish i was fucking your pretty pussy instead right now" he'd moan into the late hours of the night. "bet you'd be so tight and warm... fuck i wanna ruin you..." after replacing the image of his fist with fiercly fucking into your tight walls, he came in no time.

vampire!hyuck who finally introduced himself to you and was able to get close to you and actually ask you out and become romantic partners. it didn't take long for the both of you to let your relationship grow hot and heavy...

haechan was fucking into you with so much fervor, you thought that you were going to pass out. you're not entirely sure how you both ended up here; your ass up, back arched, and face smushed into the sheets while haechan was practically splitting you open. but honestly, you're too fucked out to care. "fuck, baby, you're squeezing me so good."

your brain was mush; all you can comprehend was the beautiful man hitting all the right places inside of you. your mind could only repeat his name like a mantra 'hyuck hyuck hyuck' god you could feel him in your guts, you could feel him in the back of your throat, you could feel him absolutely everywhere.

before you could process anything next, haechan unloads so much of his cum into your spent pussy. "ugh baby... fu-uck yeah, just like that. take it, take all of it. g-gonna fill you up for days..." your eyes rolled so far back into your head, you swear you see heaven. you feel oh so deliciously full; full of his cock, full of his cum, and so full of his love. no lover of yours has ever made you so loved before.

you can't even come down from this high properly because he's already flipping you onto your back and slotting his head between your thighs. haechan was nothing if not a messy fucker. immediately, he got to work on your cum-filled hole. he was eating you out like a man starved. you were so overstimulated and sensitive, you knew you weren't gonna last. "hyuck... n'more please." there were pathetic tears in your eyes, and they only spurred him on even more. moving his face away from your perfect cunt, he pleads, "c'mon baby, gimme one more. please baby, i know y'got one more."

he goes back to making out with your sensitive pussy; no rhythm in his technique, just desperately wanting to get more of your addicting juices from you. you were spasming from the overstimulation, and before you knew it, you came. you were practically a gushing waterfall and you covered haechan's entire face in your essence. god, he'd bathe in your cum if you'd let him.

"fuck, baby... you squirted everywhere." he had a crazed look in his eyes, and his fangs were protruding; so sharp, so dangerous, so arousing.

hey! first drabble on this account, yay! i suck at endings but i hope you guys enjoy this! :3

[aemndxx]

I NEED a smut fic with Bambi!reader and Rafe ☹️ literally anything will do your writing always eats

𝓇.cameron. ┆ bambi baby.

◟ ㅤᡣ𐭩ㅤ��� ݁.﹒ hihihi babies. !!!!!!!!!! 🥺♡ྀི i missed y'all sm. here's this lil' thing that's been on my mind all night… it's set in the rafe 𝓍 bambi!reader au i'm makin'… but u don't gotta read the others to understand this at all-- this is jus' a lil' bit of smut. 🫶🏼

"ah-ah, hey!" rafe scolded you, slapping your freshly manicured, dainty little fingers away from touching your slippery, puffy pink folds, oozing more and more of your slick as the seconds passed, with your boyfriend having you seated in between his manspread legs, your back pressed back against his hard, bare, muscular chest, completely naked.

"you don't get to touch this," rafe tuts warningly, making you instantly pout cutely, glossy lips all pink and kiss-swollen from rafe's sloppy, abusive kisses just minutes ago.

snapping out of your hazy, dreamlike thoughts, you squeal girlishly, all high pitched and sweet, as rafe completely cups your weepy, sweet little cunny, giving your cunt a possessive squeeze as if it were a warning not to cross him.

"this? this right here?" he asks tauntingly, with two little slaps against your drooling cunt, making his big hand all wet and causing you to mewl softly, trying to squeeze your smooth, plush thighs together, but rafe stops you, glaring down at you with clear disapproval, a threat in his steel-blue eyes, making you press back further more into him, shrinking against him, seeking his bigger size to feel safe and secured, even if he was the one abusing your little cunt right now-- you didn't mind, and neither did rafe.

"it's mine," he purrs into your ear with a soft, low baritone voice, his tone was teasing, though his voice was still a deep, lazy drawl, cupping your bare cunt with his large dominant hand, his face buried into the cook of your neck, inhaling your sweet, overwhelmingly addicting scent, before he begins kissing and licking and sucking another claiming lovemark on the delicate, sensitive skin of your little, easily breakable, sweet-smelling neck.

"all. fuckin'. mine," he coos menacingly, causing your insides to melt and butterflies to swarm in your belly-- you couldn't help it, you were so in love with rafe, and his possessiveness over you always made your brain turn into mush, even when he wasn't playing with your little cunt.

"you understand that, bambi baby?" he questions mockingly, keeping his voice hushed, yet he still kept that deep, lazy, baritone drawl to his voice, making your little clit throb and twitch with need, which rafe notices of course, because he always does-- swiftly, skillfully, he gently pinches your little nub, only to start rubbing two pads of his calloused fingertips against it, causing you to whimper softly and squirm for a moment, before you begin to gently hump your boyfriend's deft fingertips that were currently massaging your 'pretty princess cunt', as rafe likes to call it.

you nod eagerly, maybe a bit too eagerly, but again, you don't care-- always so sweet and innocently naïve for your boyfriend, just the way he likes you, all shy and sweet and codependent on him, looking up at him with your thick, fluffy black lashes, all doe-eyed and precious for him, a bit weepy too, just like your sweet little pussy, rafe notices.

and rafe is already aware, as usual, that you need a good, long, hard fucking, and that's exactly what he's gonna give to you-- after all, you're his girl, his future wife and the mother to his children, he'd never deny his precious bambi anything, especially a good fuck.

rafe smirks as he watches you nod obediently, the anger in his brow smoothing out and his soft lips curling up into a small, lazy smirk, "good girl, baby," he praises sweetly, giving the side of your head a long kiss, before easily slipping the two fingers he was using to massage your clit to now slide them inside of your needy cunt, feeling the way your wet, velvety walls flutter and quiver when he wiggles them around inside of you for a few seconds, hearing the way you gasp and moan so prettily for him.

"oh, daddy!" you cry out, your little, freshly painted pink toes curling from the sudden shift in pleasure, thighs shaking and belly clenching with your need for delicious release. "oohhh, f-feels so... so good i-inside of me," you mewl deliriously, moaning breathily and heart pounding, your bare breasts heaving as you suddenly feel rafe curl his long, talented fingers inside of you, insistently rubbing that place that makes you orgasm in seconds and wail like a newborn baby.

"D-DADDY!" you sob breathlessly, your shaky hands now going to reach and squeeze his clothed thighs, digging your long, gorgeous nails (which rafe of course paid for) into the gray sweatpants that he was currently only wearing, making you even more horny and desperate for him.

rafe chuckles breathlessly at how needy you're for him tonight, but he doesn't mind, he never does-- and with a light, sinister laugh from him, one that promises that you're going to have a very, very long night ahead of you, your boyfriend speeds up the pace of his fingers that were fucking into you almost violently, until you're dripping all over his hand, just the way rafe cameron likes you to be.

[hxney-lemcn]

Care for Yourself my Love — Overblots x gn! reader

summery: taking care of yourself wasn't your best skill, thankfully you have someone to help you build it up.

tw: unhealthy eating habits! If you're sensitive to this please don't read this fic! I'm not glorifying or romanticizing this, I just wish I had someone to help keep me on track (you'll notice I make the reader actively try to better themselves). mentions of depression/depressive traits (leona, idia).

a/n: I wanted to write something, ik people have done this already but here's my two cents because I've delt/deal with this too

wc: 1.7k (~250 per character)

Master List

❥ Riddle Rosehearts

You don’t try to be so forgetful, it’s just you're either always running late or you find yourself procrastinating to the point you don’t have time. Unfortunately, your carelessness has gotten to the best of you and you found yourself nearly passing out while preparing for the upcoming unbirthday party. Even more unlucky, you swayed dizzily in front of Riddle, nearly toppling over and knocking over paint buckets. At first he felt his temper flare, that paint wasn’t cheap and now they’ll have to get more. Not only that, but now your shoes, socks, and pants were covered in red paint. But then he noticed the concerned look on Trey’s face and how you held onto him for support while holding your head, eyes closed tight. That was when the worry set in, were you alright? Why had you been so clumsy in the first place? You apologized to the two, casually bringing up how you can’t remember eating anything yet and that was most likely the cause. After that, Riddle tried keeping track for you, scolding you anytime you mumbled about forgetting to eat. How could you forget something so important! You couldn't learn properly if you didn’t take care of yourself. Not to mention the heart attack he nearly gets every time he recalls that moment of you nearly fainting in the rose garden. He doesn’t want that to happen again, so he’ll continue to help you out until you learn to take care of yourself better.

❥ Leona Kingscholar

Honestly…I think he’s in the same boat. People call him lazy, selfish, and rude, and his only escape from all his problems is his dreams. Where people love him, where he’s important, where he’s cherished. So this can go one of two ways. 1) You both feed into each other's bad habits and become worse. Or 2) you notice his bad habits, and in trying to correct them (Ruggie helps tremendously with this…he also gets free food so he doesn’t mind) you find yourself improving on your own. Leona lets you take however much money you want, little does he know, most of that money is being used on him as well. You end up buying matching water bottles on a whim and you find yourself actually drinking a healthy amount of water now. This also goes for Leona, as every time you get food, you bring some for him, every time you go to get water, you bring some for him. In fact, he actually uses the water bottle you bought him, but it's only cus it reminds him of you…not that you’ll ever know. Slowly over time, you both improve each other, and you find yourselves feeling more healthy than ever before. Especially when Leona decides to have you join him for his spell drive training, making you participate in it as well. Not because he hates you, but he sees what you’ve done for him, and wants to help you in his own way in return…he just makes it seem and feel like a punishment. 

❥ Azul Ashengrotto

Azul is a sharp one that never lets a detail go. He noticed your bad habits from the start. It only bit him back when he started to genuinely care for you. He felt his mind want to tear itself apart when you came by the lounge after school, immediately being placed in his VIP room, and him hearing your stomach growl. When he asked if you wanted food you denied, stating you didn’t have the funds. That made him want to rip Crowley apart. Instead of letting that anger show, he only smiled, making up some bullshit about how its on the house today. Azul made sure that the Leech twins kept an eye on you, and if your self-destructive habits got too out of hand they would step in. At first you were apprehensive when Jade would randomly appear, asking if you’ve eaten or drank anything recently. Azul nearly broke down in tears when one time you shrugged nonchalantly, asking if it mattered. It was then that you realized that your habits not only affected you, but the people you cared about as well. So you promised him you’d try to better yourself. If you forgot breakfast you at least had a granola bar on hand. If you forgot water, Floyd would throw a water bottle at you. It was a slow process, but after a while you started taking better care of yourself, and all Azul could do was breathe a sigh of relief. He was not going to let someone he cared about become their own greatest downfall. 

❥ Jamil Viper

At first, he’s annoyed. Out of spite he won’t help you, his gray eyes watching to see you stumble with slight gratification. Those feelings soon crumbled the closer you two got, and that gratification slipped into apprehension. Jamil was going to lose all his hair at this rate. So when you forgot to buy food, or used all your money for other necessities Jamil started packing you a lunch alongside his own and Kalim’s. He quickly grew annoyed at how pleased he felt when he watched you scarff down his food, exclaiming how great it was. You forgot how warm the Scarabia dorm was and were currently sweating to death beneath all your layers? Don’t worry, Kalim had bought you tons of outfits already (no matter how much Jamil tried to stop him), he’ll take you to a spare room for you to change. You start feeling woozy, there’s a seat nearby and he’s already got water and a snack. Even though he’s still a bit annoyed he had to do all this in the first place…you had managed to wiggle your way into a soft spot in his heart. So for you, he doesn’t mind taking care of you. Not as long as you promise to try and learn to take care of yourself as well, because he’s not sure how much more his heart can take seeing you accidentally hurt yourself in one way or another. Plus, he won’t always be there to stabilize you…not unless you choose to stay by his side. 

❥ Vil Schoenheit

This mf knew right away. He could tell with the way you cared so greatly for others, that you had no room to care for yourself. Vil makes a whole schedule for you, when you should eat, drink water, and exercise to be your best self. You are now an honorary pomefiore student with the way he treats you. Even with the added slack of not living on the dorm grounds…you’re still not safe. Vil gets spider senses with you slacking on self care and sends Rook to check in on you. He makes you set alarms, gets you a fashionable yet hefty water bottle for you to carry around. Honestly…he works the best when it comes to self care. He doesn’t even have to text you anymore, you’ll be slouching and he’ll pop in your mind and you fix your posture. Talk about living in your mind rent free. He’s also the harshest, his whole thing is being your best self and he’ll be damned to see you hurt yourself because you weren’t thinking clearly due to not eating enough. It all comes from a place of care though, he’s just not the best at expressing that. Just know that every time he scolds you it’s because he cares about you. If it gets too much though just tell him, he’ll pamper you a bit with a self care spa day sometime soon. At the end of the day, he wants to see you thrive, not survive. 

❥ Idia Shroud

…worst person. Sorry. He’s worse than Leona. At least Leona is a part of a sport and still has to slightly take care of himself because of that. Idia has no motivation whatsoever. He is in his room nearly 24/7 with barely any contact outside. Never drinks water, barely eats (it's mostly snacks at that), and does he even sleep? Ortho is the one who does constant check-ins and brings him food and water. Although Ortho keeps constant health checks, he can’t help but be sad everytime he sees his brother push food to the side and forget about it. So if you’re looking for someone to help you with your habits I’m sorry but Idia will feed into your bad ones. If anything, it's Ortho helping you out. One time, you and Ortho had a little cooking hang out, and you brought a portion to Idia, and he ate it right away. It was then that Ortho found out a way to make you and his brother eat more. So expect more invites to cook with Ortho. In fact, he even got Idia to join! How fun! Even though the outcomes were more or less mid, you all had fun while making it. It got to the point that you and Ortho would keep challenging yourselves and would have Idia be your taste tester. Besides, how could he say no to you when you stared at him so expectantly? Just don’t ask why he never rates your food under a 7 out of 10. 

❥ Malleus Draconia

Fae’s and humans were similar and different. One big difference was how much one needed to consume in order to sustain themself. You’d think a dragon fae would need to eat a lot in order to sustain such a powerful body, but they actually eat less. So if anything, Malleus didn’t see anything abnormal about how little you ate or drank. So when you immediately fell back in your seat after attempting to stand up, Malleus had rushed to your side, unsure what was wrong. You smiled in a carefree manner while trying to wave away his worry, explaining how you probably should’ve eaten more. It was then that he realized he had been negligent about your health and went to Lilia for answers. He visibly paled when Lilia told him humans needed to eat at least three times a day and drink tons of water. Now you have a dragon fretting over you 24/7. He knew humans were fragile, but every day he finds out they’re more fragile than he originally thought which caused him to fuss over you. You needed to eat more, child of man, he doesn’t want you leaving him earlier than expected. Humans die if they don’t drink water for three days? He now carries a water bottle for you everywhere you go. You’ll never have to worry about forgetting to eat again…in fact, you’re probably pleading with Malleus to give you a break, you’ll die if you overeat too…which causes him to spiral again…

[eli0004]

Armin Arlert NSFW Alphabet

Pairing: sub!Armin x Reader

Warnings: heavy kink, mentions of body image insecurity and jealousy, subspace, msub, kink, cum play and pure filth bc Armin is a kinky fuck, mentions of porn.

[A/N: Another one down! It took a while but I’m pretty pleased. Feedback is always appreciated!]

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Slumped. He’s boneless and pliable, he drags himself to lay on top of you in search of your praise and affection. He’ll keen and shyly bury his face in your chest when you tell him how good he did and how pretty he looked doing it.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Armin likes your legs. He’s a leg man, but he likes every part of you truthfully. He likes to lay on your thighs while you pet his hair, and he’ll slowly start to kiss over your skin. He likes your hands, and often imagines them around his throat or your fingers inside of him while he’s watching you do everyday tasks.

Armin likes almost nothing about himself. He has some body image issues, which calls for some praise and worship if you ask me. Someone’s got to show this boy he’s beautiful.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Armin is a little freaky, it goes without saying. He’s a bit of a cum slut. He likes when you make him shoot his load all over his tummy, he likes when you dip your fingers into it and pop them in his mouth.

He cums in large amounts, it all but pours out of him like a faucet. It’s not thick or super gooey, mostly thin and watery. It gets everywhere if he isn’t careful in aiming.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Armin is a pillow humper, he gets excited and can’t help but stuff his pillow between his legs to grind into it softly. I mentioned this in another post, but all that soft stimulation makes him extremely sensitive to deliberate touching, and he will cum in seconds, shaking and crying the first few times you get your hands on him.

Just wait until he starts sending you videos of himself hugging a plushy or pillow between his thighs, hunched over and trembling as he rubs the head of his cock against the fabric, soaking it in his release. 🤤

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

None at all. Absolute virgin. Armin hasn’t even so much as had a first kiss when he meets you, not because he’s undesirable, but because he’s awkward. He doesn’t know how to talk to people he finds attractive, if you’re in a relationship with him it’s likely because you’d known each other a long while.

But it doesn’t take long after the first kiss for him to start fantasizing about touching, being touched, and though he likely won’t initiate, he’s delighted when your make out sesh finally leads to grinding and slipping hands under clothes.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Armin likes classic missionary when he’s feeling romantic, prone bone and doggy (both giving and taking)

He loves the Amazon position, and I think this one was the pipeline to his obsession with pegging.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

The first few times are giggly and awkward, but the more comfortable he is with you, the more he loses himself in the pleasure. His eyes glaze over and he gets weepy and whiny, but he does smile a lot when he’s feeling extra good

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

It honestly depends. Most of the time he keeps it trimmed, and every now and again he will shave it bare, but a day or two later he’s complaining about the prickly feeling and going on about how he’ll never do it again. It never gets out of control though, he would easily become self conscious of it if he let it get too long.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) 

He likes it rough, but that’s not to say he isn’t intimate. He’s a hand holder, he likes to cling onto you and press himself into your skin as close as he can get. He smacks his lips against yours in messy, sloppy kisses while he moans into your mouth. Praise makes him throb just as easily as degradation, he’s such a good boy, and he looks at you like you’re his lifeline.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

If you’re not with him and he’s suddenly horny, he’s stuffing his hand down his sweats in an instant. Several times a day if he’s feeling extra needy, and he likes to take his time with it, slow strokes with one hand while the other massages his balls.

He has an oral fixation, so he’ll suck on his fingers and imagine they’re yours, and sometimes he’ll kick his legs up when he’s feeling kinky and bring his fingers down to dip past his rim for some extra stimulation.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Pegging- and really anything anal related. When Armin discovered prostate orgasms his life was changed. He says they feel stronger, like a full body experience. He has such a cute ass too, it’s a treat to be behind him while he’s taking it face down in the bed.

Degradation and humiliation- he wants to feel like he’s less than you, just your toy to play with, and to destroy when you’re angry.

Bondage- Armin loves to be restrained and rendered helpless, blindfolded, gagged. It really sells the “I’m your toy” act.

Dirty filthy talk- the vulgarity that comes out of this sweet angel faced boy’s mouth will have your head spinning. “Use me, fuck me, come on, harder” and “I want you to _insert the most insanely filthy thing you can imagine_”.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Everywhere and anywhere within the walls of your home. The kitchen making dinner, the bathroom on his knees, giving you head like a good boy while you get ready, on the couch watching a movie, in the laundry room on top of the washer. Anywhere is free game, he’s always yours when you want him.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Everything? Your lips, your eyes, your hands, your voice. The fact that you look at him and want him like that in the first place. The way you look doing household chores, the firmness and unwavering confidence in your voice when you send back your burger because you asked for no pickles. Armin is enchanted by you.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

There’s not much he would say no to once he’s comfortable with you. If you bring a new idea to him he often meets it with genuine enthusiasm and curiosity, and knowing you’re thirsting for him enough to want to find new things to do to and with him gets him excited as it is.

If I had to choose something, I’d say aside from public sex, things like sounding make him a little nervous but it’s not a hard no. Age play is a hard no and the idea of cuckholding makes him violently jealous.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

This man eats pussy like it’s his last meal on death row. He takes munch to a whole other level, breakfast lunch and dinner, Armin is always ready to bury his face between your thighs. He’d happily suffocate himself between your folds, and die very, very contented. Almost all of his fantasies revolve around your thighs caging around his head, gazing up at you through long lashes while you praise him softly.

He’s good at sucking dick too if you’re amab, for a man with very little to no experience, he’ll have you questioning everything you thought you knew about him. No gag reflex, he probably taught himself how to turn it off just for giving head. He’ll happily let you fuck his face of course, he’s quite the masochist.

Armin doesn’t care much if you want to go down on him. He’ll let you touch him however you wish, but he’d much rather be the one putting his mouth to work. He gets so drunk off your sounds and your fingers carding through his soft hair, he’ll start grinding up against the nearest surface just for a bit of friction.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Baby likes it rough, especially if he’s the one taking it. If he can form coherent sentences, you’re not fucking him hard enough. He wants to be reduced to a crying, drooling mess, especially when he’s been stressed out recently. There are definitely times when he prioritizes romance and sensuality, but Armin loves a mean dom, and it shows.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Absolutely yes, all the time. He’s so sensitive anyway, if you aren’t trying to drag it out he can and will cum in minutes. While he isn’t too fond of public sex, he definitely enjoys the thrill of a time limit. Bend him over or give him a quick suck while you’re cooking, a quick morning fuck before you leave for work. He says likes a challenge, but it’s not really a challenge to get him shaking underneath you in 5.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

It depends on the risk you’re wanting to take. He’s terrified to get caught in public, so there’s no way he’d willingly agree to that, but he’s pretty kinky, so within the walls of your bedroom there isn’t much he wouldn’t do to please you. Especially if it’s something Emasculating or embarrassing, humiliation gets him off embarrassingly fast. This means things like feminization, pet play (making him eat out of a bowl or sit in a dog crate), chastity, cum eating, guided masturbation, pain play, and even omarashi (to an extent) are all on the table.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

This boy has endless stamina it seems, he can go and go and go for hours on end. When he’s extra needy, his erections won’t really even start going down until the 2nd or third time he cums. He loves overstimulation, even though he’ll cry and whine and say it’s too much.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Probably…more than likely, he owns some of his own. Bullet vibes, pocket pussies, vibrating rings, etc. I’m sure he doesn’t use all of them himself, but probably collects them in hopes you’ll get curious and use them on him. Especially the rings; he knows he cums quickly, so he’ll try anything with the hopes to draw the experience out as long as possible.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He absolutely would never, unless he’s having a day where he wants it rough and messy. Mostly, Armin lives and breathes to be praised, he would mindlessly agree with whatever you asked of him just to hear the words “good boy”. He just falls into the roll of your sweet little submissive so easily.

To be teased, is a different story entirely. Edge him over and over, ghost your fingertips over his skin, go in for a kiss and watch his eyes flutter shut in anticipation, only to pull away and leave him confused. He loves to be reduced to desperate tears.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Shamelessly loud. I wrote in one of my headcannon posts that you could never discreetly have sex with Armin. He gets far too lost in the experience to really be aware of what noises he’s making or how loud he’s making them, but luckily you can quiet him down and satisfy his oral fixation by stuffing his mouth full of your fingers.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Armin has wet dreams a lot. He doesn’t dream every night, but when he does, 60% of his dreams are about sex. You can always tell because he’s so spacey the next morning, thinking about what happened in his dream. Sometimes he really wants to tell you about them in hopes to recreate them, but he gets too shy and backs out.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Armin isn’t big by any means, about 5 and 1/2 inches with a pretty, soft pink tip. He doesn’t curve, but when he’s fully hard, it points upward at a nice angle. Extremely sensitive, even a breath of air makes him twitch. It’s so cute too, the way it throbs and twitches against his belly when he’s laying there all horny and excited for you.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Armin isn’t just a closet pervert, he’s the closet pervert. Absolutely insatiable, he has sex on the brain morning and night and every minute in between. You cannot lie down horizontally together without him getting all hard and needy. I believe @ambassadorarlert wrote in one of their posts that his twitter saves are full of porn, and I second this, bby is into some wild things.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

The second he lays his head down and you start brushing through his hair with your fingers, praising him for how good he did and how well he listened, Armin is knocked tf out and probably won’t be up until noon tomorrow. He can’t help it, his balls are drained and he’s being doted on, what more could a man want?

[grimssunshine]

Sensitive

Warning !

Suggestive scenes ; sub! Grim (Casper) ; The use of Grim's real name “Casper” ; Established Relationship

A little(?) spoiler of beyond the bet DLC, Vaguely mentions of the “Adult Scene”, all scenes that happened in this fic is not canon — except for the ones that's on the first paragraph.

A/n !

casper casper casper, ughh brainrot. I'm such a sucker for sub! Casper. I'm sorry guys hahaha.

✧ —

You remember, you remember so clearly that night—

How his lips trembled, his eyes teary as he look over at your hand that slides under his gloves, feeling his skin touching yours. How he let out soft moans and sobs as he watch you touch his sensitive hand directly, it drove you insane.

. . .

"Casper.." You called out to him, you had woken up first, something had stirred you up. Or at least that's what you think, you shuffled on your side of the bed. Slowly crawling over to his side, he who had been closing his eyes finally opens them up,* "S, sunshine? What's wrong?" He asked as you climbed over onto him. Straddling the male under you, his face immediately flushed red.

You can never get tired of that flustered face of his, such an adorable little reaper. "Sunshine— what—" "Shh.. casper, I'm feeling a bit feisty today." His lips trembled as he stare at you, who' straddling him, smiling cheekily above him. His red hues looked at you with a silent plea, a plea for you to continue whatever that you're planning to do to him.

So irresistible he is, made you want to bite him, maybe you'll do that later, you thought. You look over at his hand, his bare hand. Casper noticed, how you've been staring at his hand, his hand twitches, "..What, what is it? Is, something wrong with, my hand?" His breath soon hitches when he felt your hand crawling over from his chest, to his arms, eventually going for his hand.

Little breathy moans escaped his lips as his eyes focuses on your hand, "w, wha..t.." he muttered, "Your hand, is very sensitive huh?" You chuckled, earning a soft whine from the white haired male below you. "I, I am too used wearing gloves!— I, never had anyone touching my hand like this.." he explained, his voice waver as he does. "You're so cute." He whined again, "Mmh.. Stop.."

You pulled his hand over to your lips, you saw his eyes widened as he watches your lips hover to his fingers, "Casper.." whispering his name huskily, then you traced your lips over his hand, licking his finger. Making him jolted, trembling under your intoxicating lips. "Haa— ah— stop..— w, wait.." he tried to pull his hand away, but you held his hand tighter. "Shh, it's okay.." you cooed. Slowly continuing your onslaught, watching him crumble underneath you, just by kissing his hands.

"Oh Casper.. you made me want to ruin you even more now."

"H, huh?" His red eyes, teary as he look at you with confusion, his breath shaky as he stares at you, intruiged yet there's also a bit of fear, and, excitement. You smiled at him,

"... You know what, let me see more of that face, let me see you crumble, cry even more underneath me.

I promise I'll take a good care of you."

©grimssunshine . 2024 ; do not copy/translate/use for ai

[anakinstwinklebunny]

SWEETHEART!ANAKIN HEADCANONS

TW: at some point it contains sexual content, so if you're sensitive to that or don't feel comfortable with it, please do not read it for your own safety and comfort.

Sweetheart!Anakin whose mom was best friends with your mother so you two basically grew up together

Sweetheart!Anakin who always took care of you. Especially when he was a little boy; you were a bit younger than him, so he felt a responsibility to keep you safe. And since you two went to the same preschool it was easier;

Ani's eyes widened as he witnessed the boy pushing you. Without a moment of hesitation, he rushed over and shoved the boy back. "Hey!" his voice firm as he addressed the boy. "Leave her alone!" The little boy's ears perked up at Ani's words, and a look of surprise crossed his face. His cheeks flushed, realizing he'd been caught in the act. Ani stood protectively in front of you, his little fists clenched. "I said, leave her alone!" The other boy's voice trembled with fear as he sheepishly replied, "I-I'm sorry..." Before running away hastily, his small lisp prominent in his rushed apology. Ani turned to you, extending his hand to help you stand up. Worry was etched across his face as he asked, "Are you all right?" You nodded, gratefully accepting his small hand in yours. "Yes, thank you," you murmured softly. His pout deepened after his gaze moved down to your bruised knees. He knelt before you, gently examining them. "You're hurt..." he lamented quietly, his concern evident.

"Oh--I just fell," you managed to say, a slight lisp evident in your voice. Ani tenderly took your hand once more and guided you to sit on a nearby bench. He knelt in front of you, meticulously avoiding pressing too hard on your bruises. With care, Ani's young hands gently grazed your soft skin. "Does it hurt?" he asked, his voice filled with concern. "It stings a bit," you replied, a frown creasing your face.

Ani furrowed his brows and glanced up at you, his young fingers dancing across your skin with delicate care. He bent down and gently blew on the tender skin, attempting to alleviate your pain. "My mother once told me that to soothe a wound, all you need is a kiss," he whispered, his speech slightly affected by a lisp. After placing a small peck on both your knees, he pulled away, diligently playing the role of a miniature doctor. A satisfied smile graced his face as he asked, "Better?"

"yes" you giggled

Sweetheart!Anakin who picks up flowers for you and tugs it behind your ear

Sweetheart!Anakin who started calling you Rapunzel after you dressed as her and his young self went high over heels for you

Sweetheart!Anakin who often spent time in your house as a kid;

You both were playing and running together in the garden before you stopped by the big, old tree "my mommy said that you have to love someone to get married" you said, turning your big, innocent eyes on him.

"Love? Like how my mom loves my dad?" Anakin repeated, his head tilted curiously.

You thought for a moment, your little mouth shaping the words. "I think..."

Anakin's thoughtful expression softened as he nodded his agreement. "Yeah, I think that's right. When you love someone, you want to be with them all the time. And my mom and dad are always together, so I guess they must love each other a lot"

"we are together all the time" you lisped to which Anakin's cheeks flushed pink at the realization of the truth in your words. You two were always together, and it suddenly felt like a profound revelation.

"Yeah... we are," he responded, a hint of shyness creeping into his voice as he looked down to kick a pebble with his foot.

Your innocent question, tinged with a hint of nervousness, hung in the air. "Does that mean we should get married?"

His eyes widened at the mention of 'marriage', a term he had heard his parents speak of but never fully grasped the true meaning of. Yet, the thought of being with you forever filled him with a sense of warmth and belonging.

He met your wide-eyed gaze, his cheeks still tinged with a soft pink. "I think it does," his heart pounding in his chest

"So... does that mean we're... engaged now?" he asked, his voice barely audible, his shy gaze searching your face for a reaction.

"I think..."

Anakin grinned at your response, a mixture of disbelief and joy coursing through him. Engaged to his best friend, his favorite person in the world - it was beyond his wildest dreams. Especially when he felt such strong feelings for you.

"We have to make it official then." His voice held a hint of determination, attempting to sound mature. "Wait here."

With childlike enthusiasm, he sprung up from the ground and bounded over to his mother, who was sitting with yours. He plucked something from his mother's hand and quickly rushed back to you while waving a ring pop. His face wreathed with nothing but a joyous grin

"Here, this is for you," he panted softly, offering you the reddish lollipop. "So we can make it official."

"Do you have one too?"

Anakin affirmed, his cheeks retaining a rosy hue. He fished another ring pop from his pocket and displayed it. "Of course I do. We are both getting engaged, remember? So we both need a ring."

Your mouth opened slightly, a sound of acknowledgment escaping you. "Okay.." you lisped as he gently slid the ring pop onto your little finger, before you reciprocated the gesture, placing the other on his finger.

Anakin popped the ring pop into his mouth and began to lave and suck on it, the sugar coating his tongue while the buzz of your pseudo-engagement added a delightful twist to the taste.

"Yours is strawberry..mine is apple," he said, extending the lollipop to you. "Wanna try?"

You sat there, sharing your ring pops and sampling each other's flavors. It was pure sweetness, both of candy and the innocence of the moment. "Should we kiss now?"

"And don't you do it when you get married?" you inquired

Anakin's cheeks flushed in response to the question, knowing that kissing was often associated with it. However, he hadn't experienced it for himself. The idea of kissing you stirred a fluttering sensation in his stomach.

"Well... yeah, I think so..." he mumbled shyly

So with nervousness that mixed with excitement, you both leaned in, your youthful lips meeting in a shy and innocent kiss. However, after pulling away, your little faces contorted into exaggerated expressions of disgust.

"Ugh..."

"Eww--" you exclaimed, wiping your lips as if trying to erase the memory of the kiss.

Anakin, mirroring your action, wiped the back of his hand over his lips "Yeah... that was icky," he said. "We're never doing that again."

You nodded fervently "Never"

Sweetheart!Anakin who gives you tutoring lessons from math since he knows you suck at it

Sweetheart!Anakin who never has stopped having the deepest crush on you and still held the ring pop in his nightstand

Sweetheart!Anakin who was absolutely pissed (at himself) and devastated after he found out you've got a boyfriend. And obviously he didn't like him at all. He hadn't even given him a chance from the beginning

Sweetheart!Anakin Who was there for you when your (ex)boyfriend acted like a piece of shit

Sweetheart!Anakin who made sure to appreciate you all the time after you two got together. Would buy/get you your favorite flowers, make sure to show you love through deed. Just do everything he dreamed of doing since the second grade

Sweetheart!Anakin who climbed to your window in the middle of the night just because you were grounded at haven't seen him in a long time;

You grumbled to yourself, irritated with the grounding that seemed utterly senseless to you. Laying on your back on the bed, you stared up at the ceiling, the silence in the room enveloping you like a heavy blanket.

Suddenly, a small knock sounded at the window, catching your attention. At first, you dismissed it as nothing more than a bird or a raindrop. But soon, the knocking grew louder, its rhythm growing more urgent.

You sat up, wondering what could be making such a commotion. Climbing out of bed, you walked cautiously toward the window with your heart starting to race.

Your eyes widened at the sight of Anakin in the hood and you immediately opened the window "Ani?" you whispered in disbelief. "What are you doing here?"

With a gentle smile, he spoke softly, his voice barely overheard over the pitter-patter of the rain. "Missed you."

"i-are you out of your mind? It's dangerous" you whisper-yelled

"I'll be fine." Anakin said, holding tight on your window to not slip down your roof. "just had to see you."

"my dad will kill you--"

"He won't if you keep quiet." Anakin joked as he fully lifted his body through the window, now standing in your room. The floor got damp from his dripping clothes. With a soft huff, he pushed his soaked hair from his face, the strands plastered to his forehead.

The sight made you cross your arms and let out a small scoff "I can't believe you literally climbed up to my window."

Anakin let out a quiet chuckle and his eyes roamed over your figure before his hands found your waist, pulling you closer. He smirked as he quipped, "Wouldn't have done it if you weren't grounded, Rapunzel."

"That's not my fault."

With his arms encircling you completely, Anakin held you snuggly against his chest, the cold dampness of his shirt seeping through your clothes. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your forehead in a gentle and tender gesture. "I know," he whispered with a smile "I missed you a lot tho"

Sweetheart!Anakin who let's you eat his food, even though he has enough of your food-mood changes sometimes

Sweetheart!Anakin who's a true gentleman to you

Sweetheart!Anakin who's writing you love letters at least few times in a month. He enjoys every time pouring all of his emotions towards you on paper. There's something fulfilling in this, knowing he gives you a small testament of his love

Sweetheart!Anakin who often competed with you for fun in different categories. Of course with making sure you always lose. Would distract you on purpose while you two play Mario Kart or compete in baking

Sweetheart!Anakin who let's you cuddle to him while he plays with his friends;

Your eyes followed Anakin diligently as he immersed himself in the game, his fingers dancing across the buttons and keys. Boredom slowly crept in, prompting you to set down your phone and shift toward him. With a quick movement, you silently crawled from the cozy bed and wrapped your arms around his neck from behind.

"Shit, shit, shit," he muttered, the clicky sound of his fingers against the controller filling your ears.

As you leaned in to press a soft kiss against the exposed skin of his neck, you could feel Anakin's fingers instantly freeze on the buttons. He paused his actions and craned his neck to catch a glimpse of you over his shoulder, his eyes meeting yours.

A sly grin stretched across his lips "What's up?"

"m'bored" you mumbled

Anakin's grin only widened and he reached up to pull one of your arms over his head, spinning the computer chair around in a swift move. Caught off guard, you stumbled forward, falling onto his lap and straddling his legs on the plush seat. It gave him the perfect excuse to place his hands on your waist, shifting and adjusting your position to make you more comfortable

"Bored, huh?" he teased, his voice dripping with playful mockery.

"don't make fun of me" you pouted

"Can't help it when you make it so easy, doll" Anakin leaned back in the chair and adjusted his grip on your lower back. With a firm tug, he pulled you closer, pressing your body firmly against his chest and elicited a slight gasp of surprise from your lips.

However this small moment of shared eye contact quickly ended when his friends' voices echoed through his headphones, calling out for his attention in the game. He sighed and rolled his eyes, reaching up to adjust his headset back over his head.

"Sorry, sorry..I'm back" he muttered into the microphone, his finger pressing down on the comm button.

He started playing again, fingers moving rapidly on the controller as he shifted in the chair. He held you close against his chest, almost like you were his own personal pillow. The only time his hands would stray from the controls are when he would rub soothing and soft circles on your hips or thighs, pressing kisses on the top of your head

Sweetheart!Anakin who spend ten years building your dream house; including everything you wanted

Sweetheart!Anakin who gives you random drawings time to time. All he'd need is a piece of paper with even smaller pencil. Often he draw you, founding you as his muse;

"What are you doing?" you whispered in his ear, your arms wrapping around his neck from behind. You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, feeling the heat of his blush against your lips.

He startled, breaking from his thoughts as he was pulled back to reality. He looked at you, a light flush spreading across his face. His pencil continued to move across the page, tracing lines on your face. "Just drawing you," he replied, his voice soft.

"oh? am i the muse?" You teased quietly

He smirked. "More than that. You're a living work of art" Anakin murmured sincerely

You chuckled softly, reaching for his sketchbook with curiosity. But he held it firm, not letting you sneak a peek just yet.

"Ah, ah, ah" he said, his voice a blend of sweetness and teasing. "Not until I'm done, hm?"

"i thought you've already finished"

"Well, I'm not done yet," he said, his focus going back to the sketch

You leaned in closer, your voice a sultry whisper in his ear. "Can I at least see some of your other drawings?"

Knowing that you won't stop asking, he sighed "Yeah, of course," he murmured, releasing his grasp on the sketchbook to hand it over. "I mostly draw people I find interesting... or beautiful," he confessed.

You gently took the sketchbook, leafing through the pages with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. The sketches all featured you - smiling, holding flowers, against scenic backdrops...always you. As you flipped through the portraits, a frown tugged at your lips.

"But there's only me here," you said, glancing up at him.

"Well, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever known. So it only makes sense that you're the subject of my art..You're my muse, my love, the source of my inspiration," he paused, and looked at you with a teasing gaze. "am I not allowed to draw what's mine?"

You ignored his comment, going through the pages when a sketch caught your eye - a drawing of you posed as Aphrodite- naked

Anakin smirked, watching you admire his work. The detailed background resembled a scene from Greek mythology, the delicate strokes of the pencil bringing the image to life. "Well...?" he inquired, his gaze teasing. "What do you think?"

After stumbling over your words, the only thing you could manage to say was, "I'm naked here."

Anakin's smile widened as he responded with a hint of admiration. "Yes, you are. But then again, you're a goddess. Shouldn't a goddess be portrayed in all her glory, after all?" He chuckled softly and teased, "Besides, I've had plenty of time to memorize the view." To which you shot him a glare

He paused then, concern flickering in his eyes as he leaned in a bit. "Do you not like it?" he asked softly, searching your face for a response.

"No- I love it," you replied, your voice still a bit flustered. "I just... didn't expect to see myself portrayed as Aphrodite."

The corners of Anakin's lips curled back into a smirk, his voice getting lower and deeper now. "Well, you're beautiful enough to be one," he murmured. "And you're certainly enough of an inspiration for me to draw you in such a way."

Anakin leaned in even closer, his gaze fixed on yours, his smirk growing more mischievous. "And perhaps... I wanted to show you how beautiful you truly are, without all that fancy clothes you always wear."

You smacked his shoulder "Ani!"

Anakin chuckled at your reaction. "hey, I’m just being honest!" He grinned widely, his arm wrapping around your waist. "You can’t tell me you’re not beautiful. You’re the embodiment of beauty to me."

Sweetheart!Anakin who waited with sex till marriage. He just found it as something special and as much as he loved you, he wanted to have his first time during the wedding night;

"you're so beautiful..so so beautiful..couldn't take my eyes off of you..so pretty, Mrs. Skywalker" he pressed gentle kissed on your neck before pulling away to watch your expression

he moaned lowly at your twisting in pleasure face, his hips rolling against yours in slow, almost torturing, painful way "such a pretty sounds you make.."

all you could do was moan and mewl as his member stretched your tight core "a-ani" you desperately held onto his arms, probably even digging your nails to his skin out of such intense feeling

he shivered at you saying his name like that. His large hands squeezed your flesh, hoping he doesn't do this too roughly. He wanted this to be pleasurable for not only him, but especially you. But oh how he tried to keep his self-control in check.. "you're..so.. tight.." he murmured while his eyes followed every inch of your face "damnit, is it gonna sound weird if I say that I imagined this moment already?"

you could barely comprehend any given information; your brain was focused on one thing and it was deep inside of you. So to not leave him without a response, you shaked your head

"good.." he panted as his hand moved to caress your cheek, his eyes scanning your face and trying to memorize it in this very moment "been dreaming of this for so so long.." this time he groaned, pushing his length even deeper inside of you to reach this particular sweet spot "feels better than my imagination"

your lips parted to let out the prettiest whimper "oh gods, just look at you.. you're a masterpiece.." he breathed, his hand tracing down to squeeze your jingling breast "you'll be the death of me, you know that?"

he was completely lost in this moment, it was obvious that it was hard for him to keep a steady, slow pace as his body screamed for you. "please tell me I'm not dreaming .." he begged "can't believe i have you now..forever..gods, I would lie if i said it was easy to wait..but damn, you feel even better knowing that I've waited"

he was getting more and more worked up, his breath coming in pants. he had to remind himself to keep the pace slow for your sake, but it was, again, getting very hard for him to do so. his hands roamed down to your hips to hold you in place "i can't get enough of you..I'll never get enough of you.."

"how do you feel?.." he asked, a desperate hint in his voice like he had a goal to make you feel heaven "I'm not being too rough, am I?"

"no..just..can you go..faster?" your voice came out as rather nervous and shy. So many years together, almost an entire life and in such intimate concept, you still felt a little bit conscious. Maybe because it's this desired first time?

his breath hitched at your words and he let out a loud exhale. with no more to add he did as you requested; his hips starting to thrust faster, harder "oh kriff.." he moaned his body shuddering from the overwhelming sensation of finally being with you like this "oh kriff, you feel so good.." his head fell to the side

With his urgent moves, you felt yourself going crazy. Your eyes rolled from pleasure that enveloped your whole body, your hands almost falling from his arms "i--something's happening" you whimpered

"f-fuck.." he groaned lowly as he felt you tighten around him..hard. He was a mess; his lips parted and his eyes a bit unfocused "oh kriff..oh stars..oh kriff.." he repeated, his body slightly shivering and his muscles tensing up as he moved faster, almost desperately trying to bring himself and you over the edge

"i think I'm close ani--"

"kriff, I'm too..I don't think I'll last much longer" he groaned, his dick pulsing around your core "..not with you squeezing..around me like that.."

Sweetheart!Anakin Who turns into a small boy when he's sleepy;

"Hug me until I smell like you" he murmured, nuzzling to your chest

It was normal for Anakin to be sleepy but there were days where he was super sleepy. His eyes fighting to keep open, his hands aching to wrap around your waist, in desperate need to be close to you. So how could you refuse him this pleasure of small needs? Your hand tangled in his curls while you scrolled through the words in your book

"I want to kiss you a lot, you know?" His voice muffled against your chest

"yeah?" your lips curled into a small smile

"yeah..you're my sun, my moon and all my starts.." his face nuzzled even more to your body as if you were his pillow

Sweetheart!Anakin who learned how to cook for you. His hands in a mix of flour, eggs and just everything to call his mom in the middle of the happening disaster in both pot and oven, hoping she'd ease his fear of his end

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @ysrjune @divineani @erosmutt @haydensprettyprincess @mistress-amidala @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @fuckmyskywalker @kenmaiica

(if you want to be removed or added then don't be shy and let me know 💋)

[kinq-sleazee]

ok ok , so i don’t want to write a full blown structured ficlet with all the bells and whistles so can we maybe just chat a bit about poly krbk tings?

E. Kirishima X K. Bakugo X Reader

TW! MDNI - Poly , Aged Up, poor writing, seggs

Imagine being best friends with KRBK and just inserting yourself into their lives as a sort of “platonic” third until it’s not really platonic anymore.

Like these two men love you and respect your friendship but the irrepressible attraction between the three of you is just getting too hard to ignore. Especially after a night out at the bar leads you back to their shared apartment.

And maybe the alcohol makes you a little bold and you make some silly little joke like , “let’s just fuck it out of our systems” but you soon quickly realize that you’re the only one laughing.

Between the two of them you never really stood a chance.

Katsuki holds your chin—thumb slowly pressing into your mouth while peering down at you with those fiery eyes. He looks bored almost. Only quirking a brow when you swallow around the digit and moan at the taste. Sweet. From his quirk , no doubt. He talks down to you. As if admonishing a pet. Calls you names. Whore. Slut. Claims that you’ve been planning this all along—secretly waiting for the day to choke on his cock. “That’s all you are. A hole”. At this point he’s pushed three fingers in your mouth. Slowly fucking into your throat while saliva runs down his arm. “I wish you could see yourself, cupcake. S’fucking pathetic how desperate you look”. You want him so bad right now. It’s embarrassing, so you can’t help the tear that falls. “Fuck— you cryin’ , cupcake? So damn cute. Want ya to cry sum more. Fuck that little kitty so hard… turn ya into a poundcake.

Eijiro is nicer than his lover, at least it seems that way at first. He holds you against his front, you can feel his erection pressing into your back. Kissing from the nape of your neck to your shoulder. Bite marks and bruises littering your skin. However, your focus is on the deft fingers skimming up your thighs , rising the fabric of your dress above your hips and running the pad of his finger over your clothed clit. You can feel him smile against your skin. He calls you beautiful. His angel. Perfection. All while fucking the fabric of your panties into your needy hole. “Think you were made for me, darling. Gonna feel so good wrapped around me. That’s what you want , yeah ? Wanna squeeze on daddy’s dick, baby girl ?”

It’s not nearly enough stimulation and you’re literally begging them for something. Anything. You need it at this point.

They oblige. Swiftly undressing you and positioning you in your hands and knees.

Eijiro rubs his meaty cockhead against your quivering hole. It’s big. Painfully so. You whine and attempt to move earning a sharp slap to your thigh. “Didn’t you ask for this, darling ? Why are you running ? Tryna disappoint me ?” And you’re overwhelmed. Chest heaving , eyes blurry and babbling apologies. The redhead hums in acknowledgment and pushes in fully with one powerful thrust.

Bakugo doesn’t really care to hear your cries so he shuts you up with his cock. With a hand buried in your hair he pistons in and out of your mouth, setting a brutal pace. He stops ever so often to let you breathe or spit in your mouth but then it’s right back to choking on his cock.

They use you for their pleasure this first time. Rutting into you carelessly, sloppily chasing their orgasms. Of course they make you cum— Eijiro rubbing your clit and Katsuki pinching your nipples — but it lacks finesse.

When the post-nut clarity settles their able to really tend to your needs. Katsuki settles between your legs, whispering sweet praises to your “pretty little pussy” then running the flat of his tongue through your cum coated folds. Eijiro joins him, drinking up his own spend while sucking on your pleasure point and massaging Bakugo’s tongue with his own.

You’re dead tired and sensitive when you cum again but much to your despair and pleasure these two are just getting started.

[dirtyvulture]

Envy and Venom - Part 3

Heiress!Natasha Romanoff x CEO!Beefy!Fem!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk

Summary: You are the notorious playboy who just inherited one of the biggest tech companies in the world. Your first move? Sleeping with the heiress of your rival company.

Word count: 4990

AN: Y'all are getting fed with this one. Have fun. :)

Click here for Part 2!

Thanks to @mostlymarvelsstuff for helping with some Russian translations lol.

DAY 34

“Do you have everything ready? Your presentation, your notes?” your dad asks.

“Yes, yes,” you tell him for what feels like the thousandth time. 

“This is where the comeback starts,” your dad says, and sometimes you wish he would just claim back his title. You were sick and tired of his coaching, even if you needed it a little bit. But if Envy Industries had gotten into this mess because of you, then you were the only person who could get them out of it. “I know I can’t be there in person–”

“I know, I know,” you dismiss. You were well aware of his vacation plans to the Maldives with his new girlfriend. Besides Envy, it was the only thing he wanted to talk about nowadays. But you still didn’t even know her name, and were certain he’d find a new one before the end of his trip.

“Tony will be there with you, right? He’ll keep you on track,” your dad continues, inching into sensitive territory now. Even though he denied it every time you confronted him, you knew he was always worried about you stepping into the CEO role because you were a woman. Hearing the doubts from the public and the competition hardly bothered you, but from your own father, it was like a punch to the face. Especially when you were not exactly proving him wrong given how things had played out since your first day.

“Who cares if Tony is there or not?” you snap, losing your patience. “He’s not the one giving the presentation. He’ll just be standing behind the curtain, stealing all the free merch, and–”

“Okay, that’s enough,” your dad cuts you off. “I want you to call me again tomorrow. We’ll run over your presentation again–”

“I’ll think about it.” You slam the handset on the receiver, a satisfying motion that could not be accomplished with modern telephonic devices. You try not to give the upcoming presentation any more thought–it was already stressing you out enough. Maybe an hour in the gym would take your mind off things. 

Your decision made, you step away from your desk to your private walk-in closet, rifling through the selection of workout clothes hanging there. All of them were custom-cut to your exact body dimensions to ensure the best fit and look. Although you were no professional athlete, you treated yourself as if you were one (and you certainly looked the part). 

But right now, you couldn’t care less what you looked like or what you were wearing as you grabbed the first set of clothes you could reach, slipping them on and grabbing your Louis Vuitton gym bag, monogrammed with your initials. You lightly jog out of your office, moving fast enough that people will think you’re in a rush and not stop you. The gym is on the tenth floor of the building, and because it’s just after lunch, most people are back at their desks. But you set your own schedule, so you’re happy to find that it isn’t too crowded and you quickly get warmed up before you start lifting.

In between sets, you check your phone, a bad habit that doesn’t exist when you’re with your training coach, but he’s not around to scold you, so you can do as you please. In the tracking app, Natasha’s red dot blinks in the Upper West Side of Manhattan, hardly three miles away from your current location in Envy Industries. 

She was hanging out at Black Widow Corporation headquarters, just where you expected her to be. She had an unsurprisingly predictable schedule, splitting her time just between work and home, which you discovered was in an apartment just a few blocks down the street from yours. You wonder if she lived on her own or with her father, who was likely paying for her housing either way. 

Natasha was not quite the self-made woman that you were. Her work was significantly more behind the scenes, which was one reason why you had never heard of her before. Alexei Shostakov was the only name you associated with Black Widow Corp. But you had done your own digging on her and her family the past few days. There was frustratingly little about Natasha and you were ready to hire a private investigator due to your lack of results. 

All you had learned was that she had graduated magna cum laude from Virginia Tech with a degree in economics, where she also held a brief internship at the university’s infamous Gamma Lab before it was shut down after the sudden death of its lead researcher. You assumed she had gone immediately to work for Black Widow Corp after her graduation; there was no other work history for her anywhere. No social media, no public interviews. This woman fascinated you more and more. 

After a final set of deadlifts, you re-rack all the weights because you’re not that much of a heathen and check your phone again. Natasha is no longer at Black Widow Corp, her red dot moving steadily through 86th Street that cut through Central Park. Your heart rate jumps, and not because of your workout. You sit down on a bench to steady yourself, watching as the red dot continues through Central Park. When she turns right on Park Avenue, you know exactly where she’s heading.

Hopefully you could intercept her first.

***********************************************************************

“Where are you going?” 

Natasha curses under her breath as she turns around to see Yelena standing in the lobby, her arms crossed over her chest like a scorned mother catching her child sneaking out of the house.

“What?” Natasha rounds on her sister, annoyed that she’s been watching her like a hawk.

“The board of directors meeting starts in seven minutes,” Yelena says, and Natasha curses under her breath because she forgot all about that.

“Dad can handle it without me,” Natasha replies, eager to get the heat off of her as soon as she can.

“They’ll be talking about CES,” Yelena reminds her, referencing the important annual show where the biggest tech companies came together in Vegas to reveal their newest inventions and products.

“You’re not going to CES,” Natasha points out, surprised her sister even knows its proper name. Since the company was going to fall on her shoulders once their father stepped down, Natasha had spent almost the entirety of her adult life learning, training, and breathing business and technology. Yelena had been able to pursue her own hopes and dreams, starting in the private security field until she had enough experience (and enough of Dad’s money) to start her own company. She was happy and thriving, something Natasha was endlessly jealous of.

Yelena had never experienced the pressure of managing billions of dollars in and out the door. She didn’t know what it was like to fight off every insecure man who couldn’t bear to do a business deal with a woman. She hadn’t spent hundreds of hours trying to learn coding languages and complicated mathematics and equations on her own. Yelena didn’t understand what Natasha had spared her from, and Natasha was afraid she would never be grateful for it.

“Yes, but you’re going to CES,” Yelena says.

“You’re not my babysitter,” Natasha snaps, turning away and marching towards the door. 

“You’re going to see her again, aren’t you?”

“What?” Natasha stops. “Who the hell are you talking about?”

“That CEO you’re in love with.”

“Excuse me?” But Natasha’s face is flaming red as she struts over to confront her sister. “I am not in love with anyone. You know that.”

“You seem to be spending an awful lot of time with that CEO.”

“No, I’m not.”

Yelena smirks. “I own a private security company, sestra. You don’t think I know my own sister’s whereabouts and who she’s with?”

Natasha’s heart sinks, but she tries not to let it show. “Why can’t you ever just mind your own fucking business?” she growls, immediately regretting the harshness of her words when she sees her sister’s face fall. But she’s too proud to take it back.

“I don’t think it’s safe if you keep seeing her,” Yelena says. “And you don’t know what it could do for the company–”

“Why do you care about the company so much all of a sudden?” Natasha counters. “Dad’s not giving it to you when he steps down.”

“I don’t want it,” Yelena replies, although she looks hurt. “But to be quite honest, I don’t like what it’s turning you into.”

“Which is what?”

“This!” Yelena waves her arms at Natasha frantically. “It’s always ‘Black Widow this, Black Widow that.’ You don’t have any hobbies anymore. You never eat dinner with the rest of the family. You don’t go out unless it’s to see that CEO–”

Natasha interrupts her with a huff. “You wouldn’t understand, Yelena,” she says, trying a different approach and maintaining complete calm. “You can just stay holed up in your one-windowed office to spy on people and let the real adults go out in the real world and handle real shit.” With that, she spins on her heel and storms out of the building. 

***********************************************************************

“Why are you into shooting all of a sudden? Have you ever even held a gun before?” Tony asks, staring at you with a dropped jaw.

You shrug. “I need some new hobbies,” you lie.

“You’re not going to shoot someone with it, are you?” he half-jokes, his chuckle quickly dying up when you don’t laugh with him.

“No, of course not,” you mumble unconvincingly.

“Okay, well, when do you need the gun by?” he asks.

“How fast does Bucky work?”

Tony shrugs. “If I call him now, he can have one to me by the end of the day.”

“Okay.” The sooner the better, because it gave you less time to back out of your plan. “That works.”

“So, are we going big-game hunting in Africa this summer?” Tony asks, giving you a sharp nudge before starting his car.

“Maybe, maybe…” But you have a different target in mind.

The gun is surprisingly heavy, oily, and unfamiliar in your palm. Bucky had gone over the four “rules” of gun handling, which shocked you that he even knew:

Treat every gun like it was loaded

Don’t point it at something you aren’t willing to shoot.

Keep your finger off the trigger until you’re ready to shoot.

Be mindful of your target and what’s around it.

He had given you a full box of ammo for “good luck” too, before jumping back into his car and driving away faster than you could read his license plate.

Currently, you sit in the darkness of your apartment, weighing the gun in your hand. Your heart is beating so hard against your ribcage you swear you can hear it. 

You check your phone. Natasha’s just parked her car in the parking garage. It should only take her a few minutes to ride the elevator up. You hadn’t even bothered to change out of your workout clothes, worried that she would arrive at your apartment before you did, but you had just barely made it on time.

Her red dot blinks in place on your screen. She’s in the elevator.

Your eyes flit to the front door, the gun feeling even heavier in your hand. 

The seconds drag on. 

You hold your breath for as long as you can between inhalations, heart pounding, ears straining for any sound of movement outside your apartment door.

Beep, beep.

A key card–yours–registers at the door lock. The handle pushes down from the outside and you snap to attention. 

Don’t miss, you tell yourself.

The door parts open, almost hesitantly, like your uninvited intruder is suddenly unsure of themselves. In the darkness, you see a figure slip through the door and close it behind her. Her body shape gives her away immediately. The thick thighs in black jeans, the curve of her hips leading up to her narrow waist, the fullness of her bosom stretching out the tight shirt she’s wearing.

When Natasha steps into the light, she freezes when she sees you sitting at the kitchen table, gun cocked in her direction.

“It’s about time you showed up,” you greet. “Building security didn’t question you when you used my key card to get in?”

“Clearly not,” Natasha says, her stance tense and wary.

“Come sit down. We should talk,” you invite, gesturing with the gun and breaking Bucky’s rule number one. Natasha stiffly walks towards you, her face an impassive shadow. You’ve never seen her genuinely scared before and it delights you that for once, you have the upper hand on her. You kick out a chair and she sits next to you. 

“Didn’t expect this, did you?” you ask. “Probably thought you could just waltz right in here and steal more of my shit?”

“Y/N–”

“Shut the fuck up.” You’re tired of listening to her excuses. You rest the gun on the table. “Is Black Widow going to CES?”

“Yes,” she says. “Like we do every year–”

“Well, there’s going to be some changes this year,” you interrupt. “Get your phone out. Call your dad. Black Widow Corp is going to be a no-show this year.”

Natasha balks. “That…That won’t be possible.”

You pick the gun back up and point it at her, breaking rule number two. “Then make it possible.”

“You won’t shoot me.”

“You don’t think this is real?” You point the gun at the table. Rule number three. You pull the trigger. Rule number four. The gun bucks in your hand, the blast reverberating around your apartment with enough power to rattle your teeth. Natasha flinches even though you hadn’t aimed anywhere near her. “No one can hear us,” you say with a chuckle. “I had the apartment soundproofed years ago to stop the neighbors from complaining.” 

She stares at the gun.

“Take your phone out now. And call your dad.” You hope you don’t have to ask again.

With shaking hands, she finally obeys, placing her phone on the table. “Put it on speakerphone,” you demand. Natasha presses a few buttons and you hear the dial-up tone.

“Privet, doch',” Alexei booms.

“English,” you hiss.

“Hi, Dad,” Natasha says, side-eyeing you uncertainly. “We, uh…We need to talk about CES.”

“Good, I just got out of the meeting with the board–”

“Black Widow can’t show up this year.”

Alexei’s surprise is palpable. “What, Natasha? What are you talking about?”

“We need to call off our appearance,” she says, her voice shaking. “Just for this year. We’ll go again next year like we normally do–”

“What’s wrong with this year?” Alexei asks.

Natasha looks at you, her eyes begging. You shake the gun to remind her you’re serious. “I…uh…I don’t think our tech is ready for the show,” she says. “You know how disastrous it can be if we unveil something that isn’t completely ready.”

“But we’ve been working on Project Transformer for months, Natasha. It’s plenty ready–”

“No. Dad, please.” She grits her teeth. “I was looking through the code last night with the engineers. There’s a bug in the programming. It’s going to take at least a few weeks to smooth out. We can’t debut right now, Dad.”

Alexei curses in Russian. “Shit. The board really liked our presentation.”

“I know.”

“I wish you would have told me earlier.”

“I know,” Natasha repeats. “But we only just discovered it this week.” 

There is more silence, punctuated by Russian grumblings from Alexei. “Okay, okay. I’ll make a few calls. Too bad we’ll be losing out on our reservation fee too.”

“It’s a small price to pay.” Natasha’s eyes dart to you again. “Sorry for all the trouble, Dad.”

“Where are you?” Alexei asks. “We missed you at the meeting.”

“I’m out.”

“Will you come to dinner tonight?”

“Yes.”

“Good, good. Proshchay, dorogaya.”

“Bye, Dad.” Alexei hangs up first.

You slowly clap your hands. “Good girl. Was that so hard?” Your chest swells with pride at your achievement. Maybe now she would have more respect for you. You know she only saw you as a piece of meat. But you were much, much more than that.

“Fuck you,” Natasha spits.

“Oh, are we still doing that?” You put the gun down on the table, this time facing it away from her. You part your legs slightly, inviting her between them. Natasha glares at you with emerald daggered eyes. “Don’t be shy, baby,” you say, your voice deepening. “I got what I wanted today. It’s only fair you don’t leave here empty-handed too.”

Natasha shoots up and marches over to you. For a second, you think she’s going to hit you, but instead she straddles your lap and kisses you so hard you’re sure she’s bruised your lips. The ferocity is both frightening and arousing as she tears off your workout shirt and shorts. She palms at your left breast roughly, sinking her nails into your abs and dragging them down to your belly button. You groan into her mouth when she bites your bottom lip. She’s never been this aggressive with you before, but you know she’s taking out her frustration on you.

And you absolutely love it.

“Now that I’m done fucking with your company, you want me to fuck you until you can’t walk?” you whisper, shoving your bare thigh between her legs. The friction from her jeans burns your skin, but you hardly register the pain. 

“You’ll have to carry me out,” Natasha says, trailing her fingers down the vein on your bicep.

“Deal.” You kiss her again, slipping your muscular arms under her thighs and standing up with her. You carry her to your bed, leaving her to undress while you grab your strap from its drawer and slip it over your legs. When you turn back, she’s shimmying off her lacy black panties and the feral urge to keep your promise overrides all your senses. 

You pick her back up and she hooks her legs around your waist, her arms circling your neck. She presses her naked chest against yours, both of you moaning in unison when your nipples brush together. You walk with her until Natasha’s back bumps into the wall, shifting her weight off your arms to the wall. You maneuver your right hand to grab onto your strap, lining it up with Natasha’s center. 

“Are you ready for me?” you ask, rubbing the tip of your cock over her soaking entrance. Natasha’s whines at your teasing, her fingers tangling in your hair and jerking at your roots painfully. 

“Fucking ruin me,” she begs.

You slam your hips forward, burying your entire cock in her in one move. Natasha screams, tearing her nails down your back. Your big hands grip onto her waist to hold her in place as you thrust into her tight heat, your abs flexing and tensing. Natasha’s body rolls with yours, her head falling back against the wall, exposing the perfect column of her neck to you. You lean forward to decorate it with your marks, so every time she undresses for the next week, she’ll be reminded of you.

The only item of “clothing” she still wears is a thin silver necklace with a rectangular charm hanging from the chain. It bounces in the hollow of her throat every time you thrust into her.

“Y/N, oh, Y/N,” Natasha chants, music to your ears as you keep your relentless pace. Your thighs, already spent from your gym session, are absolutely on fire now, so you need her to finish quickly before you drop her. You shift the angle of your hips, bumping the top of your cock against her clit with every stroke. Natasha squirms and moans, trying to find a rhythm with you, but she’s so close she can’t match you at all. 

“Tell me when you’re gonna cum, baby,” you pant. 

“Soon,” she moans. “Go harder. Don’t stop.”

You’re afraid you’re going to break her with how hard you’re thrusting into her. But finally, her body tenses in your hands and you know she’s finished all over your cock. You’re grateful to slow your thrusts as she comes down from her high, your entire body sweaty and buzzing with adrenaline. You slip your arms under her quivering thighs and stumble back to the bed, collapsing onto it with your legs hanging off the edge, Natasha panting on top of you. 

You’re not sure who’s more exhausted, you or her. You lay there unmoving, trying to catch your breath, which Natasha does before you. She sits up, slowly pulling your cock out of her and crawling up your body to kiss you messily. Her tongue slips into your mouth, but you’re too tired to return her fervor very much. 

“What’s wrong, sweetheart? Am I too much for you?” she teases, cupping your chest and pinching your nipples. 

“No, just give me a minute,” you grumble. It was rare to meet someone with stamina like hers. And as much as you prided yourself on yours, you feel like you may have met your match with Natasha Romanoff. Your arms and chest are covered in her scratch marks, and your back still stings a little. Natasha traces the scratches gently.

“Mine,” she murmurs.

“Hmm?” you grunt, not sure if you heard her correctly.

She props herself up on your chest to look at you. “I can give you a minute,” she purrs, her voice becoming husky and seductive. Natasha slides down your body, resting her knees on the floor and tugging the harness of your strap down your legs. You can hardly lift your hips high enough off the bed to help her, embarrassed by how tired you are. Natasha grabs your calves to lift your feet up one at a time to remove the harness and throw it to the side. She rubs her hand  across your defined abdomen, stoking the fire in your belly again.

“Don’t move, baby,” she says. “I’ll take care of you.”

“Huh?” You lift your head high enough to see Natasha’s head between your legs, her mouth lowering onto you. It’s like a lightning bolt of pleasure that shoots through your core and you moan loudly in appreciation. Natasha makes eye contact with you as she slips her tongue into you, smiling as you pant and squirm. 

“Oh, God. Fuck me,” you gasp, dropping your head back on the bed. Your hands claw at the sheets as her tongue explores your walls. Natasha pushes apart your muscular thighs to make more room for her, pushing so deep into you her nose bumps against you. Your chest heaves as you struggle to breathe evenly, arching your lower back off the bed in a silent plea for more. 

Natasha eats you out like she’d been starving for a week, her tongue alternating between swirling around your throbbing clit and pushing through your clenching walls.

You finally find the strength to lift your right leg, twisting it sideways at the knee and hooking it around the back of Natasha’s head, pressing your calf against her scalp and dragging her closer. You reach down with your hand to tangle it in Natasha’s flaming red hair, pushing her down so she isn’t tempted to pull away right when you reach the edge of release. 

“Nat,” you whine. “Please, baby. You’re gonna make me cum.”

Natasha hums against you, the vibrations finally causing you to lose control. Your entire body goes limp as Natasha cleans up all the slick between your legs, then climbs back up to rest on you like you’re her personal pillow.

“Gimme a kiss,” you mumble and Natasha presses her lips to yours obediently. She tucks her head in the crook of your collarbone and you stroke her hair absently. “If I fall asleep, are you gonna leave again before I wake up?” you ask, your voice sounding small. 

“Only if you want me to,” Natasha murmurs. 

“I know I’m supposed to hate you, but I don’t know if I can,” you admit.

“Then don’t,” Natasha says. “Because I was thinking about it too, and…I think we should go public.”

“Public? Like us being…” You can’t even finish your own sentence.

“Mhmm.” Natasha nods against your chest.

“You can’t be fucking serious,” you scoff.

“No, I’m fucking you.”

“And you’re done. Right?” Your eyebrows scrunch together at the dual meaning of your words. Natasha doesn’t say anything. “At the very least, you owe me fifteen-billion-dollars before we can go public about anything,” you say, referencing the amount your company lost in the last month when Black Widow Corp pulled the rug out from under your feet.  

“Done.” Natasha searches around your bed for her phone. “What’s your bank account number?” 

“What are you doing? Seriously.” You’re a little lost now. 

“Well, our dads spent all their time fighting each other,” she says.

“Not fucking?” you joke.

“I can’t confirm that,” she says with a smirk. “But I was thinking about it. And I know Envy hasn’t been doing so well lately–”

“Because you sabotaged our contracts and stole our ideas,” you remind her.

Again, Natasha does not confirm nor deny this fact. “But what if instead of competing, we…helped each other out?”

“Like a collaboration?” you ask. Your father had specifically warned you against any kind of “collaboration” work with another company. You weren’t running a YouTube channel. You had a multibillion-dollar business. It was your responsibility to look out for the well-being of your company and your company only, damn philanthropic endeavors, personal favors, and relationships.

“We can work something out,” Natasha insists.

“Did you go through all of this just to ask me that?” you ask.

“No.” Now, Natasha looks away from you. “I mean, at first, yes. I thought you would just be a hot one-night stand. And yes, you were–” You raise an eyebrow. “–But you’re also a lot more than that.” Validation burns through your veins to hear this. “You’re smart, you know the tech, and you know how to run a business. And you’re the hottest CEO in the country and the best person who’s ever taken me to bed,” Natasha says. You think you’re going to combust at the praise. “I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t stop thinking about us. And what we could accomplish together.”

It takes a few seconds to let her words process. “I don’t know how this could work,” you say, the logical side of you taking over for once. “We’re not regular people, Nat. The future of this country is literally in our hands. The public watches our every move and criticizes every decision we make. People like us need whole PR teams to manage their relationships.”

“Fuck the PR teams,” Natasha says. “If we like each other, then why can’t we be together?”

It had been years since you had publicly been in a relationship with someone. After all, it was so much simpler to cycle through partners and not have to worry about commitment or any long-term decisions. But deep down, you were cripplingly lonely and terrified you wouldn’t be able to find someone who would settle with you. 

Because truth be told, your lifestyle was not for many. Most people couldn’t handle the pressure you were subjected to every day. The never-ending torrents of judgment. The borderline-criminal way you were stalked by reporters and paparazzi. The unreal expectations you were held to by people you’d never even met.

But out of all the people you had ever been with, Natasha Romanoff was the one with the best chance of understanding all that. She knew what she was getting herself into, because your life would be her reality the day her father passed on the company. Of course it wouldn’t hurt her to get some practice beforehand.

“I want you to be mine,” Natasha says suddenly. She reaches up to her neck, her fingers brushing the hickeys you left there, before unclipping the silver necklace. She puts it around yours, flipping the charm around so you can see that it reads “Natasha.”

“Baby…” You didn’t even care what your dad’s reaction to hearing the news would be. How would the public react? The consumers? The shareholders? At your level, it was unavoidable crossing the line between professional and personal interests. People would either cheer you on or vow to never use another Envy product again.

But Envy had been tanking ever since you took the helm. Maybe this was what you needed to bounce back…courtesy of the same woman who ruined you in the first place. The math seemed to add up–Natasha would cancel out herself, wouldn’t she?

Natasha interlaces her fingers with yours, distracting your thinking. “We could be the most powerful couple in the tech industry. In the world,” she says. “Isn’t that what you always wanted?”

“Yes,” you sigh, although that’s not really the truth. There was one thing you wanted more than power, money, and fame.

“Then don’t be afraid, sweetheart.” She squeezes your fingers. “With me, you’ll have everything you want and more.”

A rush of emotions suddenly overwhelms you–fear, annoyance, love, envy, and venom. You would kick yourself in the head if you missed out on the chance to be with Natasha, but you also weren’t entirely convinced this was the right move. 

“Y/N.” The way she says your voice is desperate and pleading, like she too can’t be without you.

“Okay.” You make up your mind in an instant. “Okay, baby. Let’s do it.”

Natasha beams, snuggling closer to you. The two of you say nothing further, and her steady breathing quickly lulls you to sleep. Natasha holds onto you even as she feels your body relax under her. She turns her head to look at the gun you left on the table, wondering what it would feel like in her hand, to hold against your head.

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

AN: These two are for real going to be the death of me. 😩

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

[lovebugism]

AH HI!! so... i love the way you write ditzy!reader, and especially with steve idk it just warms my heart yk? The way they interact 😭 it's so lovely

Since I'm an angsty girly at heart, I thought about a situation where steve gets a teeny tiny bit frustrated with ditzy!reader, but it's just seconds, even less than that but it's enough to make her upset for making him upset but also a super fluffy moment between both of them and steve being mesmerized by her and just so much in love

ahh thank u lovie! pls enjoy!! — steve gets frustrated with his sensitive gf and makes up with her accordingly (hurt/comfort, established relationship, 2.7k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

You keep Steve company during the last half of his shift like you always do. 

He’s grumpier than usual, though — all pouty and visibly brooding. 

You plop yourself on the front counter of Family Video and ask him what’s wrong, and he tells you that the day’s been hell and he’s just tired. There is no “but I feel better now” like there usually is when he’s upset but doesn’t want you to think it’s your fault. 

The “because you’re here” is typically implied. 

Not so much now.

You’re having the complete opposite day of your sulking boyfriend. Yours had been dreadfully boring, or at least you say it had been, but you find a million different things to tell him. You’re too excited after having spent so many hours without him, like a dog with a wagging tail. You’ve got the zoomies of the mouth, if you could even call it that.

“—And then I saw the cutest dog on the way over here. His name was Cappy, and he was huge, and the owner was so nice. He even let me pet him, and he literally felt like a cloud— the dog, not the owner.”

Steve is used to this. The whole rambling about nothing thing. He loves it about you, actually. It took him ages to coax you out of that shell after your asshole ex told you that you talked too much, convinced you that no one cared about what you had to say.

You’re more comfortable now, and Steve loves that you are, but right now he just can’t concentrate.

Keith’s been on his ass about inventory all day, and he just learned how to do it on the old, bulky computer this morning — but only after Robin made him an hour late to his shift. Everything’s just too much now. He’s overwhelmed to the point of spontaneous combustion. 

For the first time ever, you’re not helping.

“—And, like, I know when we move into our apartment, we’re technically not allowed to have pets, but like… What about a fish? Or a turtle?” you wonder aloud but don’t stop to let him answer. Sitting on the edge of the counter, you kick your feet and flit your eyes to the spotted ceiling. “What if I start feeding the deer in the woods, and they just start showing up at our backdoor? ‘Cause technically—”

“Babe, please,” Steve snaps suddenly when your sneaker knocks his chair. He’s buzzing with anger, and even though it’s not because of you, he doesn’t know where else to put it.

Your eyes go wide at the newfound bite in his tone. He’s not shouting at you, but it makes your heart stop like he is. You feel like a kid again, getting scolded for being “too much.”

“…What?” you squeak.

Steve sighs. A deep, heavy sigh. It doesn’t remove the leaden weight from his chest, though. 

“I’m… I’m really trying to concentrate here, and you’re just— you’re making it really hard,” he tells you through gritted teeth, trying hard to keep his composure.

You deflate like a popped balloon. “Oh…”

He can hear the waver in your tone, the way your voice sounds wet with unshed tears. But he’s too overwhelmed — internally raging and selfish with it. His sweltering temper makes his woe feel more important than yours.

“Yeah, so… Can you just— go bother someone else for, like, five minutes?” he asks, fists clenched on either side of the clunky keyboard, his gaze concentrated on the pixelated screen. “Robin’s probably sulking in a corner somewhere. Go find her.”

Your face crumbles like a balled-up piece of paper. Your chest gets all tight, and your eyes start to burn when tears gather behind them.

You’d always been a flower of melodrama — blooming eternally and constantly sensitive. So when Steve cut you off as you fantasized about a family of deer living in the backyard of an apartment you were supposed to share together, it felt like a knife in your chest. 

The irrational thought that he no longer wanted any of that with you was fleeting and vivid and burning. Irrational, still.

But now you’re annoying him. He’s told you as much, with an unusual harshness he’s never spat at you before. And now your fears feel much more real.

“I’m bothering you?” you ask him, barely intelligible through the whimper in your throat.

Steve huffs again. His elbows thunk against the desk when he puts his head in his palms, swiping his fingers through his hair like he always does when he’s antsy. 

“I just really need to get this done,” he tells you, softer now. He makes himself mad all over again, though, and gets sharper once more. “I need to finish this before I get fired, and then we have no apartment to move into because we have no money, alright?”

There it is. The root of all his anger. A lingering feeling of inadequacy. 

He wants a life with you, but all he’s got is a measly Family Video salary — which he’s lucky to have apparently, because he can’t seem to do anything right. It stirs like a fire in the pit of his stomach.

After another deep breath, he finally turns to look up at you. His honey eyes are wet and stern. The chiseled edges of his features are sharp. Gently, he pleads. “I really need to work here, babe.”

You nod, understanding and internally weeping. “Okay. I’m— I’m sorry, I was just— I’ve been missing you all day, and I got too excited, I think,” you confess, wringing your clammy hands in your lap like a scolded child.

“Don’t apologize,” Steve says with a huff, leaning back against the squeaking swivel chair. It’s old and has lost all its cushion. His stiff back aches all the more. There’s no relief, to any of it. 

He sits back up again and puts his unsure hands back on the keyboard. “Just— Just go, okay? Let me finish this.”

He leaves little room for argument.

You wouldn’t, though, even if you wanted to. Which you do. You’re just not strong enough.

—————

Steve tells you to go, but you end up in the kiddie corner across the store. 

Mr. Rogers puts on a bright red cardigan and sings a tune that makes you feel like crying. You sit on the color-blocked carpet, surrounded by block toys, and clutch a stuffed bunny to your chest. You can’t tell if the vintage VHS is making the screen blurry or if it’s the tears gathering heavy at your waterline.

Robin walks by you, does a double-take, and immediately reports to Steve.

“What did you do?” she interrogates with narrowed eyes, strolling up to the counter with a cart full of tapes to put away.

The hearty tap, tap, taping of the keyboard fills the silence. 

Steve doesn’t look at her until he’s finished up the last of his work. Only when it’s fully and finally complete does his hardened gaze dart to her. “What are you talking about?”

“Your girlfriend. She’s upset.”

“What do you mean she’s upset?”

Robin rolls her eyes at his obliviousness. “I don’t know. She’s singing the Mister Roger’s theme song and, like, crying. It’s weird.”

Steve’s brows pinch. His heart does, too. “Crying?”

“Well— not crying, exactly. It’s this really weird blubbering thing.” She fails to explain it so she tries to imitate it. A sobbing, sniffling sort of noise. She fails at that, too. Her scrunched face goes back to normal. “Like that.”

Deadpanned, Steve nods. “Wow, Robin. That was really helpful. Thank you.”

“Just go comfort your girlfriend, dingus.”

Steve still thinks she’s joking. Robin doesn’t lie, but she does have a tendency to overemphasize the mundane. 

He goes to see you anyway, though, and doesn’t think twice about any of it — about what Robin said or what he had said to you before that.

He finds you in the kid’s section, in front of the tiny television, surrounded by brightly colored toys. He smiles at the sight of you, exhaling a sharp laugh through his nose.

“What are you doing all the way over here, huh?” he questions to announce his arrival, which you seemingly hadn’t noticed. “This area is usually for kids, ya know? Well, kids and Dustin Henderson.”

He doesn’t sound as annoyed with you anymore. You’re grateful for that much, but you still feel a bit sick about the whole thing.

Your nervous hands pick the cotton of the fuzzy bunny in your arms. You keep your gaze on the television in front of you, but you aren’t really watching it anymore. “I used to watch this stuff a lot growing up. The nostalgia sorta makes me wanna puke. But, like, in a good way.”

Steve scoffs. “Well, maybe we should turn it off then, ‘cause if I have to clean up vomit after the day I’ve had, I might actually go insane.”

He’s kidding. Mostly. The universe tends to be cruel like that, but he’d clean up all your messes a thousand times over if he had to.

He laughs at his own joke as he crouches to sit down next to you. He bends his knees, props his arms on top of them, and looks over at you. You don’t crack a smile for him, which is weird because you always laugh at his jokes. Even the ones that aren’t funny. Especially the ones that aren’t funny.

His smile ebbs to a wavering half-smirk as he knocks his shoulder with yours. “You okay?”

You think for a moment, jutting your lips out, unblinking at the television screen. “No,” you answer after a few seconds of silence. “But I’ll get over it. I think.”

Your honesty makes his heart wrench — like you’ve wrapped both your tiny hands around the beating organ and squeezed. It knocks the breath out of his lungs, a fish so ruthlessly pulled from the water. He tries to speak through the sudden lack of air. “Wh—What happened? Was it… Did I do something? Did you—”

“No,” you cut off his stammering with a firm shake of your head. “I did something.”

“Oh,” is all he says, pink lips pouting and wide eyes darting. “What does… What does that mean? Did you, like, step on a rogue VHS or something? ‘Cause I do that all the time, and technically, that’s Rob’s fault for leaving them out, so—”

You shake your head again, digging your nails into the delicate cotton of the well-loved stuffy in your arms. “No. I was just— I was botheringyou, and now I feel bad,” you confess, all quiet like a meek child who’s learning what it means to be sorry.

Steve — your oh, so oblivious one — goes aflame with embarrassment. He’d been too clouded by his own anger to recognize the venom spilling from his mouth; to understand that it would inevitably hurt you.

With chiseled features twisted in confusion, he shakes his head and stammers. “What? No! You weren’t— You weren’t bothering me!”

You turn to look at him, for the first time since he sat down beside you. Your eyes are glassy and swimming with hurt. You try to keep your trembling features stoic. You don’t want to seem as hurt by it all as you really are. 

You feel like you should, anyway. What right do you have to be sad when you were the one being a bother?

“You said I was,” you remind him, still soft but sterner now. “You told me to go bother someone else—”

“Oh, babe…” Steve says, deflating just as you had. 

He knows how sensitive you are, how deeply you feel things. You’re vulnerable, raw — it makes everything feel more personal than it really is. It makes grumpy jabs from your dumbass boyfriend hurt like a lemon on a weeping wound.

He tries to apologize, knowing that he hurt you and that it’s not up to him to decide that he didn’t. 

“I wasn’t… I didn’t mean to, babe,” he murmurs, swiping a tense hand through his hair and then gesticulating wildly with it. “I was just being a dick, you know? I’ve been super stressed all day and—”

“Don’t apologize. I was being annoying.”

Steve blinks at you with wide, wet eyes — like you’ve hurt him by talking so cruelly about yourself. 

“Baby, no. No,” he urges, ducking down to meet your gaze when you look away from him. “I’m just an idiot, okay? I put off inventory until the last second, and Keith’s been on my ass all day about it, and I just— I took that out on you, and that’s not fair, and I’m sorry.”

You shake your head, pursing your bitten lips to the side and twisting the long ear of the bunny between your fingers. “It’s not your fault, Steve…” you murmur, almost inaudibly.

He scoffs. It sounds like a bitter laugh. “Well, actually, it kinda is.”

“I just… I don’t really understand what’s going on sometimes. Or, like, a lot of the time,” you admit with a distracted gaze, eyes flitting everywhere but to the boy beside you. You’re too ashamed to look at him now. “And it’s harder for me to know when I’m talking too much, you know? Or if I’m being super annoying.”

“I know…” Steve nods, trying his best to be sympathetic of you. He loves how soft you are — too much to understand you completely. He loves how gently you treat the rest of the world, how unusually giddy you get in your gentleness. 

You swallow through a tightening throat and shrug to pretend your world doesn’t feel like it’s crumbling around you. “And I don’t care about annoying other people— well, I do, but it’s different with you, you know? Other people can’t break up with me for being too much.”

“The idiot that told you you were too much had exactly zero personality,” Steve tells you, mostly because he means it but also to see you smile. 

You do, just barely. A grin so soft only someone deathly in love with you could see. 

“You’re never annoying me, okay? Ever. I love hearing you talk. I love having you around.”

“Yeah?” you ask him, blinking back burning tears.

“Hell yeah! You’re, like, the best part of my day! The only good part of my day, now that I think about it.”

Biting back a grin, you tease, “Well, what about Robin?”

“Robin made me late today, so we’re kinda not friends right now.”

“That’s mean,” you scold despite the growing smile on your face.

Steve shrugs. “We’ll make up before I clock out. No big deal.”

You go suddenly shy, smiling sheepish and tilting your chin to your chest to peek at him through your lashes. “Are we gonna make up before you clock out?” you wonder quietly.

“Only if you’re willing to forgive me for being an insufferable douchebag,” Steve answers, only half-joking. He very seldomly feels worthy of your softness.

You look at him with it, anyway. 

Full on beaming now, you reach across the short distance to wrap him in a firm embrace. The position is only slightly awkward. Sitting side by side with your asses on the hard carpet, your arms wound tightly around his neck — a bit like a snake smothering its prey. 

Steve feels grateful to be held so ardently. 

His nose smushes into your neck. The sweet scent of your perfume entwines with the warm scent of your sweater. He smiles into your shoulder when it makes you giggle. You pull back from him then, just to steal a quick peck a moment later. Your lips smack audibly against his grin.

“Can we make out before you clock out?” you lilt with a shy smirk.

“…That is the single best idea I’ve heard all day.”

Your giggle fills the empty store when Steve rises suddenly and pulls you with him. He leads you toward the back, tugging you by the hand down the short corridor and rambling all the way. “Keith left for the day, so his office is empty, which means it’s fair game—”

“I am not making out with you in Keith’s office!”

“But his desk chair is crazy comfortable, and also, he’s a dick, so… who cares?”

[solbaby7]

Calypso

pairing: azriel x reader

warnings: swearing, angst, possible typos, violence

[ part 1 ]

—

Your family was hovering.

Exchanging worried looks amongst eachother as they partook in a mental conversation that you weren’t invited to but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. The power inside of you had seemed to be asleep; tucked within the warmth of your vessel as you shuffled closer to Azriel.

His shadows were everywhere, pressing against every inch of available skin not only as a comfort but to shield your state from wandering eyes. Azriel knew his brothers meant no harm but his spine stiffened just a bit more when he’d catch them searching for injuries—as if some sort of explaination would be branded into your flesh.

He understood—really, he did.

Everyone wanted to know how you’d survived.

How you’d been hiding such power away for so long undetected.

But he couldn’t find the courage to ask any questions; too afraid he’d have to come to the horrifying realization that he’d almost lost you.

No. Azriel had lost you and yet some divine intervention had taken place, gifting him a second chance. His stomach plummets at the thought, shadows tightening their grip on you; tugging you in as close as you could get and still it didn’t feel close enough. “I’m right here,” You mutter just loud enough for your voice to break through the noise beginning to grow inside Azriel’s mind. A hand covers his own, a gentle squeeze to reiterate the words spoken but he can’t help but notice how cold your skin is.

You hesitate before crossing Autumn’s border, sparing a glance behind you when the hairs on the back of your neck stand at attention, alerting you of a lingering presence. A brow raises, lids narrowing a fraction before the comforting darkness of Azriel’s shadows began to weave its web, calling you back home where you belonged. “I’ll find you,” A voice croons so whisper soft that you struggle to decipher if it was real or just a figment of your imagination. “You have my word.”

Protective instincts force you to answer the voice, nerves still raw from earlier and the rage refused to fully subside. “I’ll kill you. You have my word.”

—

The sterile stench of disinfectant burns. The walls are too white and everyone in it is entirely too quiet as they watch Madja work on you.

Sure hands run over the length of you, her powers searching for something wrong and yet after a thorough assessment—all she can offer the High Lord is, “Physically, she’s perfectly healthy.”

“You’re sure? Beron said that she—“ Rhys pauses briefly, painfully aware of Azriel’s eyes digging craters into the side of his face and he becomes more careful when he speaks. “You’re sure?”

“There’s not a scratch on her.” Madja shifts about the room, putting away equipment and removing sanitary gloves into the waste bin when she continues speaking. “I will say, her body is in a state of fight or flight. It appears as though her gifts are taking on new and unexpected manifestations—it’s morphed into some sort of defense mechanism that surpasses anything I’ve ever seen before. I couldn’t even get a needle to break through to draw her blood.”

You let out a humorless laugh, slouching further into the examination chair. “Seems a little late for that.”

Madja turns to face you, the picture of professionalism when she says your name gently. “How do you feel?”

“I feel…” Like you were still underwater. Like your body was still not your own, tainted by malice and such uncontainable anger. Shaky fingers curl into the fabric of Azriel’s cloak draped over your shoulders—the only anchor that seemed to keep the sensitive magic at bay. “Charged.”

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing. You’ve been through a lot and that could just be a side affect of the adrenaline wearing off.” Madja shifts in place, intentionally ignoring the surveilling eye of your mate tracking her every move—monitoring her every word like his life depended on it. “Can you tell me about what happened? Do you remember anything?”

Azriel bristles when your spine goes ramrod straight, subconsciously tucking the cloak closer to your body. “Nothing’s wrong with my head if that’s what you’re getting at. My memories are intact.”

“That’s good to hear,” Madja nods placatingly, fingers interlocking before her to seem less threatening and more comforting. “I was worried about possible brain damage which is consistent with drowning,” Your jaw clenches, a thick swallow rolling down your throat. “Lung damage as well but your breathing sounded clear and equal and there’s no obvious signs of residual deficits. I’d like to run just a few more tests, if that’s okay?”

A sharp nod of your head is the only answer you provide but when the door opens and one of Madja’s assistants is beckoned to come inside, the entirety of your body language changes.

Azriel feels his own hackles raise as you surveil the newcomer with a hunters eye. “This is August,” Madja introduces swiftly, moving the lean male to the left and its second nature the way he flits about her; retrieving paperwork to neatly arrange back in its folder. “He’s here because I’d like to see if your magic is just blocking me out—or everyone.”

Rhysand shifts in place as he watches you and the way you refuse to answer, utterly fixated on August and the nervous tremble of his fingers when he stands a bit too close. “I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

“It’ll be fine,” Madja assures, standing right before you with her hands hovering at both sides of your head. “I have theory, I just need to try something first.” Everything seems to be going just as planned, the familiar push of healing magic creating a gentle pressure at the edges of your consciousness as it seeks out an injury to fix.

It’s almost soothing, enough to have your eyes fluttering shut and the rigid line of your spine starts to relax when a foreign touch is detected.

The reaction is immediate and completely involuntary. Madja is shoved out of your way as a gust of power projects from your form like a wave; providing the room necessary to pounce on August like a leapord who’d been stalking their prey and finally found the right moment. It’s borderline feral the way you snap at him, pinning his arms under your knees to ensure he couldn’t touch.

“Just as I suspected,” Madja doesn’t appear the slightest bit phased, quietly thanking Rhysand for breaking her fall.

Azriel’s reaction is less tame, his features clouded in shadows when he retrieves you, all the fight dissipating the second a fair distance is established. “Are you out of your mind? She could’ve killed him.”

“But, she didn’t,” Madja murmurs, scribbling words on a page while August dusts himself off. There’s no real damage to either of them but the intensity of your retaliation is enough to have Cassian and Rhysand creeping closer cautiously. “I suspect that her magic has gone on the defensive, almost as if it’s its own sentient being protecting its host. She sustained a trauma which pushed it to the forefront of her mind—taking the reins in a sense.” Madja looks up from her notes, curiosity shining in her eye when she examines you from afar. “It’s protecting her from anything it doesn’t deem safe.”

“Anything it doesn’t deem safe?” Cassian repeats, the hairs from his bun falling free and teasing at the stubble of his jaw. “That’s vague.”

“That’s besides the point,” Rhysand quickly averts, only stepping as close to you as Azriel will allow. There’s a softness to his expression, one that appears almost shy when directed your way. “This doesn’t sound anything like the power you’ve showed before. So, I have to ask if something else happened there—in Autumn?”

The examination room reeks of antiseptic but the low hues of the faintly glowing faelight is comforting enough. Either way, you can’t help the way your eyes flick to Madja and August but they too are soon ushered away the moment Azriel notices.

You gulp audibly, fingers fiddling in your lap as the tense posture you previously wore fades altogether. “I wasn’t lying when I said my memory is intact. Completely intact.” A shaky breath is inhaled, toes wiggling in the compression socks Madja had all but forced Azriel to shove on your feet the moment you’d stepped an inch within the doors. “I remember dying. But, I also remember someone else being there, a female who felt me and brought me back.”

“Brought you back how?”

Your eyes lock on your mate; the physical embodiment of strength and that alone encourages you to scrounge up the courage to continue. “She heard me somehow—I was screaming for help and she heard me and right when I thought it was too late, I felt this…surge.”

Rhys’ lids lower into a squint. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, it was just a feeling.” It’s difficult describing the exact sensation that had flowed through you, coating every limb in a caress that wasn’t quite caring. It edged the border of possessive when sealing up your broken pieces. “As if I’d been given more.”

Cassian’s head tilts to the side, arms crossed over his chest while he takes it upon himself to guard the door. “More power?” His brows scrunch in thought. “I guess that could explain what happened once we found you.”

“She did something to me out there,” You confess, staring at your hands as if the answers would somehow be deciphered within the lines of your palms. “My magic feels different inside me—like it’s changed.”

“Show me.” Rhysand demands without question, ignoring the low growl his brother releases, displeasure clear at the tone of his voice.

There’s a pause, slowly bringing your eyes to your High Lord. A shaky breath is released, hands wringing out stress as you lean into the warmth of Azriel behind you. “Respectfully, no.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’d never disobey a direct order so please don’t make me.” The struggle in your words is evident, limbs trembling as you strain to grab ahold of the leash within you. To wrap it around your fist and command the reigns but the leather fits differently than it did before, the aches and pains from such a growth spurt is thoroughly uncomfortable. “The answer is no. I’m not in control.”

Azriel’s gaze snaps down to you with an intensity you’re eager to avoid. “You’re sure?”

You shuffle under all the attention, desperate for a bath and a glass—no, pitcher of wine to drown out the buzzing beneath your skin. It felt too tight over your flesh; stretched thin and rubbed raw as the entity beneath acclimates to its new enclosure.

It makes it hard to breathe properly, each exhale just as sharp as your inhale. “Positive.”

—

The most fascinating thing about trauma, is the way it disperses throughout the body; it lingers in your tissues—saturates your bloodstream until your entire chemical makeup shifts.

It leaves a brand.

One that has your spine stiff with tension at something as normal as Cassian and Rhysand walking behind you. Before, it’d be comforting—their presence straying a few steps behind. But your ears keep fixating on the sound of Cassian’s sword shifting against its leather holster. Heavy boots crushing fallen branches and crispy leaves. Normal, mundane things that now have your heart smacking against your ribcage, palms sweating and instincts on overdrive with nowhere to release the accumulated adrenaline.

Suddenly, you’re grateful that there’s no way to directly winnow back home, greedily sucking up as much fresh air as possible in attempts to soothe the way your belly churns. The anxiety refuses to subside no matter how many calming breaths you take. Your chest begins to heave, the wind whistling white noise against sensitive eardrums and regardless of the steps you count, you remain uncomfortably aware of your stress.

“You okay?” Az prods, voice nothing more than a whisper.

Your grip on his bicep tightens, dread building in your gut with each passing moment until you’re physically unable to move another inch closer to the townhouse. “I can’t go home.” It’s said as more of a confession than anything else, drawing the attention of the two guarding your flank. “It’s not safe.”

Guilt riddles his features for a split second before it’s shadowed by something akin to determination. “I will never let anything happen to you ever again.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” You swallow thickly, sweat beading at your hairline with the effort it takes to shove that overwhelming power down into its box. Even then the lid refuses to close, the entity within banging against the walls and thrashing its fists for release. “I’m saying, you won’t be safe there with me.”

[incculum]

titty fucking zoro after teasing and sucking on his pecs for hours.. him cumming just from his nipples being pinched while your cock pokes and teases his lips <3

Roronoa Zoro.

top male reader

post time-skip Zoro | a little bit of feminization (calling his pecs 'tits') | nipple / chest play & biting | tit-fucking | a little oral

a/n: this almost perfectly fits a Zoro tit-fucking draft I've had for some time so I'm using that & adding to it. (meaning this is a perfect thirst<3 ty)

it turned out little longer too, so I'm making it a one-shot

Zoro groans and the heat in his face only intensifies when your hands continue to wander across his exposed chest and your thumbs press harder against his reddened nipples.

"Let me fuck your tits."

Zoro chokes on his breath. Your words go straight to his dick and you can feel the muscles in his thighs tense around your hips when he presses himself a little closer.

"Don't call them that..." he mumbles.

"How can I not? Your chest is bigger each time I see you." Zoro's head tips forward, watching your hands play with his chest. "Almost like a woman's," you add and smile when Zoro's breath stutters. His fingers play with the band of your pants and you make sure to maintain eye contact. It's so unlike him to be this shy and flustered, he knows it but he really can't help it around you, and you know it, too.

You cup his chest with your hands and bring your head down to press a kiss against the scar that noticeably contrasts his flushed skin. You rub circles around his nipples with your thumbs and a strangled moan leaves him when you can't help but lower your head further, biting the sensitive flesh and adding another spot to his already mark-littered chest. His hips jut forward and he has to hold onto your shoulders to keep himself from toppling over in your lap, making you laugh quietly. He squeezes your shoulders tightly in retaliation and you only press a kiss against the new bite mark in response. You flatten your tongue and softly run it over his scar before moving past it, swirling your tongue around his nipple and rolling the other between your fingers. Zoro groans and pants into your ear and his hips rock forward when you softly bite. His ass grinds against your hard-on and you feel his thighs tremble around you before he stops moving all together and his chest heaves against yours. You can feel his cum begin to soak through his and your clothing again when he doesn't make any efforts to move away and you only smile against his skin.

"Did you cum, again?" You lift your head and Zoro's eye stays trained on you, almost looking at you like a timid virgin. "It's only fair for it to be my turn now." Zoro doesn't answer but his face turns a deeper red.

"Please?" You lean in and ask against his lips, hushed and careful. Your pointer fingers and thumbs hook around his swelling nipples once more and pinch softly. Zoro lets out an equally soft sigh through his nose but doesn't complain, giving you the response you were hoping for in a quiet tone matching yours, "..fine."

You tilt your chin forward and the way he kisses you back shows you just how excited he really is. Zoro pants softly when you part and you cup his cheek in your hand, softly rubbing the scar that forces his left eye shut with your fingers. A flustered heat radiates off of his skin and into your palm. "Need a moment?"

"No," he answers quickly before catching himself, "no, I'm fine," he briefly grins at you when you whisper an 'okay' before lifting himself off of your lap, following the guidance of your hands on his hips and allowing you to see him already beginning to get hard again when he takes a step back.

You don't comment on it, instead shifting closer to the edge of the bed. Zoro kneels down in front of you, fingers already slipping into your waistband. Part of him is a little disappointed you took your hands off of his chest, but the anticipation pooling in his stomach makes up for any complaints teetering on the tip of his tongue.

"You seem," you lift your hips to make it easier for Zoro, and he pulls your pants and underwear down to your thighs in one motion, "a little more eager than you were letting on." He lets out a sharp huff through his nose at your little tease, briefly looking up into your eyes, but unable to argue.

"Maybe."

Your hips jump slightly when he wraps his rough hands around your cock. You watch him lean forward and part his lips, drooling onto your hard-on and his knuckles, "fuck, Zoro."

Zoro raises his head again and sits back onto his heels. He twists his wrists simultaneously, watching you sigh when his slick spit spreads over your cock. His thumb rubs against your slit with a rare gentleness and he swallows the saliva gathering in his mouth again at the sight of your wet dick.

"Okay," he mutters, mostly to himself, pushing himself up onto his knees and pulling his hands away from your cock, though his gaze stays trained on it as he cups his chest and leans forward. He pauses for a moment when your cock presses up against his chest and pushes his pecs together.

You cup the back of Zoro's head with your left hand, breath catching in your throat when his tits envelop your cock so perfectly. You briefly wonder just how eager he must have been if he already knows exactly what to do without you saying a single word to guide him.

His earrings jingle with every move and bump against your fingertips, tearing you away from your thoughts. Your cock leaves a shiny mix of your pre-cum and Zoro's saliva behind on his skin when it seems to almost disappear between his pecs and reappear right against his lips. His chest hugs your dick so well. It's so warm and surprisingly soft. He pulls his bottom lip in between his teeth and finds his fingers pressing up against the sensitive spots on his tits, trying to replicate your touch. He holds his chest in his palms and pinches his swollen nipples. A soft sound rips out of him and his thighs tense and press together. He shifts on his knees and sighs through his nose.

"You're.." the tip of your cock pokes Zoro's lips and paints them with your pre-cum like a sheer lip gloss every time he pushes himself down, leaving behind a thin string of fluids connecting his mouth and your tip when your dick disappears back between his tits, "..really good at this," you mutter.

"Yeah?" He can't help but stare at your cock sandwiched between his pecs and his thoughts can't help but concentrate on the way your tip taps at his lips.

"Yeah." You inhale sharply when Zoro slowly licks his lips clean of your pre-cum with a low moan, now looking up at you again. His fingers stay pressed against his nipples and he gives you a brief, smug smile, not giving you a chance to question what it means before his head tips downwards.

A gasp of Zoro's name leaves your lips when he sticks his tongue out and laps at the head of your dick whenever it appears in front of his mouth. He gives you a quick glance and his lips form an open-mouthed smile when your fingers curl into the bedsheets and your arm jerks, pushing his head down lower with your hand still on the back of his head.

Zoro lets you push him and looks up at you through his eyelashes. He's sure he'll let you do anything to him if it means he'll be the one making you cum.

[highonmarvel]

heyy lov ur fics. saw you wanted some bucky recs so i got one. how about like bucky and reader have been dating for 2-3 months and he's always sweet to her and always making sure she was happy. he even promised to get rid of almost all of his weapons. but then he secretly didnt. he still had them, for "saftey purposes" he couldnt let anything happen to u. so he kept them in a secret room along with some pictures of u he took when he was observing(stalking) you before he entered into ur life -P1

that’s actually such a scary idea, i love it. okay, okay, you had a lot so apologises if it’s a bit different than you were expecting, but i tried, and i had fun! let me know if you like it! and my sweet sister @thehydraethereal, tell me what you think.

The Sun

Bucky Barnes: Bucky’s world revolves around you, The Sun, his sunshine, and he’ll do just about anything to make you happy, but everything to keep you safe.

CONTENT WARNING: This is a dark fic, please read content warnings here! 18+!

You’ve always been more of a glass half-full type of person, but with Bucky, you’ve really turned into a ray of sunshine—he just brings that out in you, treating you as precious as every breath he takes and as vital to life as the Sun itself. He said that to you once, when you asked why he calls you sunshine while laying your head in his lap, smiling in bliss as he stroked your hair. He said, “My world revolves around you.”

Even after three months, he still treats you with the same respect and gentleness and love and patience as that very first day, if not even more. There was only once you two had had a serious disagreement—it wasn’t really an argument, no one was angry, but it certainly could’ve been a massive dealbreaker for you.

Bucky never spoke much of his childhood, his teenage years, or even his adult ones, he only really went three years into the past, max, but you had pieced together he’s been through a lot, and so you never pushed him, but you made sure to make it clear you’d be there for him if and when he was ready to talk about it. There was a lot he did that showed you he was a war vet, and that as reluctant as he may be to admit it, he was suffering from some form of PTSD—he doesn’t like watching espionage films, or even movies with too much violence (which you don’t mind skipping, you don’t care too much for them either way), he’s sensitive to loud noises and a few times he’s jolted you out of your slumber with his nightmares, but he claims they’re much better with you than before. The metal arm also fascinated you—he said it’s made of vibranium, and you frowned at the thought of why he would need such a strong arm, but that you managed to get used to. What you couldn’t get used to, however, was his weaponry.

You had been sitting on the couch together when there was a thud from the next room over, and Bucky jumped up, soldier stance and everything, ready to go check it out. You were about to assure him it was nothing, tell him you forgot to close a window and a breeze probably knocked something over, when he slid a knife out of his boot and your breath caught in your throat. You followed the silver glint with your eyes as he stalked around the corner and then disappeared for a few moments.

“Birdie slammed against the window,” he said, relieved with a small smile, and you could hardly believe the juxtaposition between his use of the term ‘birdie’ while he held a knife securely in his hand. When you didn’t respond, staring at him with wide eyes, his brows turned downward in show of concern, and his voice came sincerely, “What’s wrong, sweetheart? It was nothing.” He incorrectly assumed the noise had scared you, but quickly came to understand when he noticed your gaze fixed on the knife.

“This?” he asked, casually, spinning the knife on his finger, but when you jumped back, he quickly hid it behind his back and cast his head downward in shame. He hadn’t meant to scare you, and though he felt bad, he couldn’t help but feel a little offended you’d think his arsenal was something to be afraid of. He’d never lay a hand on you, let alone a tool, why were you scared? Did you not trust him? He only kept this stuff to keep you safe. And besides, you knew about his slight paranoia with defence, so why did this catch you off guard? Sure, maybe the knife in the boot was a little too much for you to handle, but you seemed to take more issue with its existence rather than his convenient hiding.

“Sorry,” he mumbled an apology, managing to look up at you. “I didn’t mean to scare you, just had to make sure everything was alright.” He offered a weak smile in hopes of setting you at ease, but it faded when you stood up to confront him, shaking slightly.

“Why do you have a knife?” you asked in horror, voice raising in pitch. “What— do you just— do you just always have that on you?”

It’s the knife you’re worried about. Darling, if you knew the half of it.

“Protection,” he answered simply, innocently, not understanding your reaction.

“What— what else do you have? And— and in your house? You have to get rid of it!”

At any other time he would have pushed back on this (gently, of course), but in your frantic state he knew it wouldn’t serve either of you very well. He really hadn’t expected you to start hyperventilating about it. He switched to soothing you, holding you in his arms and promising he would get rid of all that, that you could feel safe… even though in his mind, his weapons were to make you feel safe, to keep you safe.

There’s a cupboard in Bucky’s house that’s always locked, and he tells you it’s just tools and some clutter he needs to clear out. But what you don’t know is he’s still got his shit in there. In any other circumstance, he would do anything you asked of him, but in this case, he got the impression you didn’t understand, that you were a little naïve when it came to this sort of stuff, like you’d always been sheltered and protected in a way that never needed violence. But he knows what the real world is like, and he knows what he’s got to do to keep you safe.

That was a few months ago. Now, trying to watch a film from the 40s—something with Jimmy Stewart, to grant Bucky a little nostalgia and tick another movie off your cinephile list—you both doze off, but you wake up before him. He usually wakes up earlier than you and falls asleep later, so you rarely see him asleep, only once you had to wake him up from the vivid nightmare, but here, now, he’s peaceful—his eyes are shut, his breathing is steady, his muscles aren’t tensed, this is the first time you’ve seen him lose himself to unconsciousness, and your heart swells at the realisation he feels safe enough to be so vulnerable around you.

As much as you would have loved to watch him breathe, after all the snacks you ate during the movie, your hands are sticky and you can’t really fall back asleep without washing them. On the way to the bathroom, you pause just before the door. The cupboard Bucky keeps his tools in is slightly ajar, it’s always been locked. And you’re not sure what compels you to head over to the door, but you carefully open it, wincing when it creaks slightly, before gasping at the scene.

He said he’d get rid of them! Not only are there multiple sharp blades of varying lengths, there’s more ammo that you could ever imagine needing, pistols, and a shotgun on the wall, you’re pretty sure you spot a fucking grenade, but maybe most terrifyingly is a mask. If this really was for safety (you’re really trying to give him the benefit of the doubt here) why the fuck did he have a mask? Like he was hiding behind it. He wouldn’t need to hide his identity from an intruder, he’d only need to if he was trying not to get caught if he was doing something wrong, if he was—

Bucky drops the bat to catch you before you hit the ground, wincing at the sight of your limp body in his arms. Fuck, he had stuck up a few more pictures of you earlier that day, and clearly forgot to lock the closet. The guilt from hurting you is enough to make him sick, but he’s got to figure out how to savage this.

If he just sets you right back on the couch and puts on some kind of thriller movie, you’ll think it was a dream when you wake up again, right? That your subconscious mind was taking in what was playing on the TV and affecting your sleep. That makes sense, that makes perfect sense, and that’s for you to figure out on your own; he won’t need to explain it or answer questions because really all it was was a bad dream, and he knows about those, you know he has experience with them, you’ll believe him when he tells you how real they can feel—you’ve seen it—and trust that everything’s alright, and he’s good to keep you safe.

After an hour, you begin to stir, and he redirects his gaze from being hyper focused on you to watching the film intently, though this far in he doesn’t know anything about the plot and hopes you don’t ask too many questions about it.

When he hears your quiet moans indicating you’re awake now, and feels your stretch beside him, he looks back at you. “Mornin’, Sunshine,” he teases, hoping you’ll giggle and say something about not realising it was dark outside. But you don’t, instead you startle and recoil back slightly, eyeing him suspiciously.

He forces his brows to furrow in confusion as he sets his half empty bowl of popcorn down on the coffee table. He tries to shift towards you but when you shift back, he sighs and stays in place.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he asks in a low voice, his tone sincere and soothing. But he can tell you don’t buy it.

“You said you’d get rid of them!” you yell, and he winces slightly—you’ve never raised your voice at him, and if you’re this worked up over it it might take him a little more patience than anticipated to do some damage control.

“Get rid of what?” he asks. The best thing to do here is just play dumb.

“Your— your weapons! There’s— there’s so many of them, you said you’d get rid of them!”

“Baby, baby, baby,” he coos when you start breathing heavily, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. “You just had a bad dream, okay? It’s alright…”

“No!” you shriek, kicking him away from you. “In the— in the closet!”

“What closet?”

“The— the one with the tools!”

“There’s nothing in there, sweetheart.”

“Then open it.”

He freezes for a second—he hadn’t expected you to ask that. “I don’t— I don’t know where the key is.” Fuck. He’s fucked. He knew it from the moment he hesitated, and his stuttering further solidified his guilt in your mind. His eyes grew just a little wider as he waited for you to respond, hardly breathing. You can read him like an open book, and he knows he can’t backtrack the few small ticks that set you on the scent.

You narrow your eyes suspiciously at him for a moment, but blink, and then nod, slowing your breaths down and directing your stare to the floor. “Alright,” you say, and Bucky himself can’t help but sigh in relief.

“I’m sorry you had a bad dream,” he coos as he shifts closer to you, and this time, you don’t shift away. He puts his arms around you and comfortingly rubs your shoulder, resting his head on top of yours.

You don’t buy it for a second.

That’s way too specific a dream for you to have months after even thinking about that stuff, and you’re not fucking stupid, you can tell what’s real and what’s not, and that was real. But for the time being, it seems easier to appease him. Maybe you really did imagine it… you doubt it, though, especially when Bucky’s body went rigid in response to your request. Even if you didn’t see what you thought you did, he’s definitely hiding something in that closet.

His phone rings, and he sighs, apologising as he carefully unwraps himself from you, reaching into his pocket to answer the phone as he stands up. “Hello?” There’s a few quick and low words from whoever’s on the other end and the groan he lets out allows you to guess it’s something Avengers-related. Though he isn’t an Avenger anymore (he gave up all violence, even in the name of justice) Sam does occasionally call him up to ask for advice on espionage matters or blueprints or just his thoughts on whatever’s going on.

“I’ve got to run, sweetheart; Sam’s being an asshole and I need to do some damage control,” he chuckles, and looks back down at you hesitantly, waiting for a response of some kind, but you’re quiet, arms crossed over your chest, slouched on the couch and looking at the floor, almost petulant but more… pensive. And that worries him.

“I can— I can stay if you want me to—”

“No,” you answer so casually it’s like something in him shatters. Sure, you’re not always grovelling at his feet when he opens the door but you’ve never been so nonchalant about him leaving to go take care of stuff. Even if it wasn’t all that sincere, you’d still make a little scene out of missing him so much. “I’ll see you later.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but quickly shuts it, pressing his lips into a thin line as he nods, and then sighs.

He can’t leave you alone here: you’ll either run the second you can or hurt yourself trying to figure out how to get the cupboard open again. In both cases he won't be able to keep you safe, you’ll get hurt. But you’re also not yourself right now, and he doesn’t want to come on too strong and risk scaring you off for good. Not that he’d ever let you get away.

So he leaves, locks the door, but doesn’t get in his car. Usually he would grant that you’d be able to see the red flag there but you seem hyper focused on getting to his shit and he surmises he can get away with it. Between the tall plants covering his windows, he can just about make you out, sitting completely still on the couch for a few moments, it’s like you’re not even breathing. He subconsciously finds himself holding his breath as well—Are you waiting for him to start the car? Have you noticed he didn’t take his wallet?—narrowing his eyes at you, trying to anticipate your next move.

60 seconds, and you jump up.

***

You take a very quick look around the lounge, just to really make sure he left, and with no sign of him, you start off down the corridor again to his cupboard. It’s locked, and you know better than to even try to look for the key. But you have to do something: how could you live with yourself knowing that either you’d have broken up with your seemingly perfect boyfriend for no reason at all, or ever feel at peace again when there’s this heavy suspicion just hanging there?

You don’t know how you ever learnt it but you pull a pin from your hair and unfold it, closing one eye and sticking your tongue out slightly as you wriggle it around in the key slot, muttering “Please, please, please, please, please” to yourself over and over as you strain to hear for the clicks. One, two, three clicks and it opens! And you have no idea how you did it but it’s done now. You quickly open the door and gasp. You really shouldn’t be surprised—you know it wasn’t a dream—but the double confirmation really takes the wind out of you, and you feel betrayed. He lied to you, why did he lie to you? But there’s something else you didn’t notice before. On the inside of the door, polaroids of you that you know are before you met him are hung up haphazardly with messy tape—and they’re pictures of you doing mundane tasks, your everyday life. With shaking hands, you reach towards one that you’re afraid is of you in the shower, tears collecting on your lashes. As you reach for it, your elbow hits a shotgun and it falls and fires.

You scream as you jump back, and away from the door, you come face to face with Bucky at the end of the hallway, looking horrified as if it’s you who’s doing what you’re not supposed to.

Why the fuck is this thing even loaded if it’s just sitting around? These are assault rifles and deadly tools just at the ready, all the time.

Bucky carefully calls your name, and you turn on your heel and sprint towards the bedroom door at the opposite end of the corridor, but he catches up to you way too easily. He grabs you and slams your head against the doorway, causing you to black out and fall to the floor.

***

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh fuck! How was he so careless not once but twice? What if you’d gotten seriously hurt or even killed? And he’s mad at himself but he can’t help but feel mad at you, too. Why didn’t you just leave it alone? Sure, he fucked up by forgetting to lock it but why on Earth did you push for it? It was locked this time, why were you so obsessed with this!?

He takes a few deep breaths to stop himself from launching into a panic attack. He can fix this, it’s fine, you just need a bit of time to calm down, but he has a feeling if you took a relationship ‘break’ he’d never find you again. So you can’t leave, you just need to be somewhere safe.

Bucky’s basement is hardly even a room—that’s why he keeps his weapons upstairs, and so that they’re always there when he needs them. It’s small, but big enough for a few shelves and a twin-sized mattress, it’s more a very temporary storm shelter—or a panic room, to a weaker person. There aren’t any windows, and so the thought of getting you situated there for an indefinite amount of time isn’t pleasant. He always gets up before you, and, yes, part of that is nature, and part of it is his awe for your peaceful sleeping form, a level of serenity in darkness he’s not sure he’d ever be able to achieve. The sun peaks in through the curtains and lightly bronzes your skin for a few minutes until you stir and wake up to him beside you, pure adoration in his eyes. And every morning, he knows he’d give up the light of day forever if he could only wake up next to you one more time.

***

You grimace as you wake up, feeling uncomfortable—the room feels somehow cold yet stuffy, and the mattress you’re laying on feels scruffy and a little old. You toss and turn a few times before you realise that this is real. When the thought hits, you rip your eyes open, shooting upright to scan your surroundings while your breathing gets heavier and heavier.

Your eyes land on Bucky sitting at the bottom of the stairs with a book in one hand, his metal one mindlessly twirling a thick chain between his fingers, tightening and loosening it. To test, you tug on your leg and he automatically grips tighter to the restraint, even before noticing you’re up.

“Hey, sweetheart…” he coos, setting his book down and letting go of the chain. He crouches down and sits at the bottom of the mattress, coaxing you with soothing rubs on your shin like you’re a mental patient or a wild animal, unpredictable. “How’re you feeling?”

How are you feeling? How are you feeling?

“Are you out of your mind!?” you shriek, and kick at him—it doesn’t hurt him, but he does raise his palm from your leg. Dropping his voice to a sweeter tone, he tries to calm you down. “You’re alright, you’re safe, everything’s okay, baby.”

He reaches out a hand to stroke your face but you slap it away, looking up at him with wild eyes and messy hair, you let your tone drop to a dangerous low as you warn, “Don’t… touch me.”

He gives a disappointed sigh but eventually tuts to himself in agreement. You just need to get this out of your system, it’ll be fine.

But it’s not. It’s not fine, and it’s taking a toll on him. You’ve never been like this before, so angry and irrational and erratic and unpredictable, but that’s not what he minds. He can deal with you throwing insults his way, swinging at him (in vain, of course) or resorting to silence, but what really starts to tick him off is when you refuse to eat. He let it slide the first day, tried to play it cool and just left the tray down for you, but he went upstairs and nervously paced back and forth until the morning. When he came down with breakfast, he discovered you hadn’t so much as touched your meal, not even the tray itself, and though he asked you in an even tone to eat something (and got nothing but silence in return) it was worrying him, he nearly wanted to plead with you, but he knew if he cracked you’d see a weak spot and keep ramming it until you get your way, and he can’t have that.

It’s the third day now, and he finally decides he needs to feed you. He sits down in front of you and pulls the tray towards him, scooping up some rice on a plastic spoon. He holds the food to your lips but you keep them shut tight, even when he gently pokes your mouth a few times. He’s sure you can see the stress you’re causing him: he’s hardly sleeping, as shown by the bags under his eyes, and he can’t even go for a jog to clear his head in case you do something crazy while he’s gone. With a deep breath, he sets the spoon down and leans back, considering his next move. Maybe you’d drink a smoothie. Not ideal but better than nothing.

“Alright,” he huffs as he stands up. “I’ll be right back, I’m gonna make you a smoothie.”

He’s only just turned his back when he hears clattering, and when he looks back to you, you’ve got fury etched onto your features and the food he so carefully and lovingly prepared for you is strewn across the floor.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” he bellows, and backhands you, sending you to the floor. With your mouth agape, you clutch your cheek and look up at him in shock. He’s never even raised his voice at you, let alone yelled, let alone lay a finger on you. “Just fucking listen to me! Eat!” He kicks the tray further back and you startle, paralysed by pure shock.

He takes a deep breath in, and a long huff out, clenching his fists at his sides. His blue eyes you had once thought of as calm oceans are ablaze, he’s shaking with anger, and his voice quivers as he tries to speak in a level tone to you. “I… am going to make you a smoothie, and you are going to drink it, or you’ll never see the sun again.”

When he slams the door shut behind him, you finally allow tears to fall. You don’t know what that threat means—will he never let you out? Will he kill you? At first you didn’t think so, even when he held you down as you screamed and kicked, but you never thought he’d hit you either, you never thought he was capable of such rage, and though he kept it relatively under control, you saw what that was. It wasn’t just ire, it was like flames licked his entire being, engulfing him and lighting him up. While you thought of him as your Sun, now, that was for a different reason—now, he feels like the actuality of the star: unpredictable and unbearably dangerous, but… necessary for survival, and inescapable.

✪

[my beloved taglist; @cowboysnbugs, @buckys-wintersoldier, @keito-123, @vogueprincess, @cjand10]

[flkwh0re]

Sweetest Bunny

Paring: Wanda Maximoff x Fem! Reader

Warnings: R wears bunny ears and a tail so pet playish (??), Mommy kink (W), Thigh riding, Fingering, Oral, Strap-on usage (W and R giving), Wanda calls R bunny a lot, Overstimulation, Maybe dubcon? I’m not sure if some bits would classify this as that

Word Count: 1.1k

A/n: This fic is easter esque but in no way religious so if that’s something that bothers you, you are able to read this :3 enjoy!

"Please just wear it, for me?" Wanda plead with a faux pout. She had been asking you to wear these little bunny ears she had purchased from the store, along with the matching clip-on tail. You weren't sure why she was so persistent about you wearing them, neither of you had ever cared about easter to partake in anything slightly related to it.

"Ugh fine, but not for long." You finally agreed, making Wanda squeal. Little did you know her plans to corrupt your innocent self.

She slipped the headband onto your head, fixing any awkwardly placed hairs. Her hands firmly grasped your waist and spun you around. Your cheeks heated up as Wanda fumbled around with your pants, trying to clip the tail on.

Once she'd finally attached it to you, she spun you back around and stepped back to admire you. "Oh what a sweet sweet bunny you are!! Mommy cannot wait to ruin you." She squeezed at your side, you just stared at her dumbfounded. "Oh don't look so dumb bunny, you had to see this coming from a mile away!"

She hummed and pulled you into her, "You didn't know, did you bunny?" You shook your head in a no formation, causing Wanda to smile. "You're just so cute bunny! Let mommy show just how cute you are."

Her lips soft pressed against yours, they're soft an warm on your own. Her hands slide along your hips, nimble fingers pushing softly against the fabric of your shorts. "Your lips taste to good bunny, I wonder if your pussy taste even better." Her words sent an instant gush of arousal to your core, and a weak whine from your throat.

"Oh that pretty little whine bunny! Do it again for mommy." Wanda exclaimed with a squeal in her tone, her knee pushing against your pussy hoping to elicit more noises from you.

"C'mon bunny, bounce your little hips. Grind your pussy on my thigh." Soon Wanda had you a whiney mess for her. Your clothes discarded on the floor, the bunny ears still resting in your head. Your slick soaked pussy rutting against Wanda's thigh desperately trying to cum.

She get you close to your orgasm, then stop your movements followed by her thrusting her fingers into your cunt. Swapping back and forth just getting you all riled up. "P-please Mommy, 'm gonna cum please let me." You whimpered as pretty tears pricked in the corners of your eyes.

"Go on bunny, cum for momma." Intense pleasure washed through your bones as you came on her fingers. "What a good little bunny!" She praised while pressing a kiss against your lips, the cum she had just cleaned from her fingers sticking to your lips.

"Let me clean up your pretty pussy, bunny." You whined as she pushed you to lay on your back. "Too sensitive." Wanda scoffed at your whining. Not listening to your pleas, she lapped at your soaked pussy. Her tongue licking you clean.

Wanda scooped you into her arms, carrying you to her room. She gently layer your weaker body down on the plush bed, then wandered off to her closet. “Put this on and it’ll be right back, bunny.”

What she handed you was a fairly large sized strap-on, which you slipped onto your hips and adjusted it to your body. Wanda returned with your clothes in one hand, the bunny tail in the other. Your clothes were tossed into the corner of her room, followed by her clothes.

You stood by, shyly watching her remove her clothes. You admired every inch of her body, something you’d wanted to do for so long. The curve of her hips, the perk of her breast, her toned stomach. You couldn’t look away, until she called you out.

“It’s okay bunny, I like when you look at me. You’re always looking at me, aren’t you?” You nod, a satisfied chuckle left her lips. She attached the little tail to the harness that was clad to your hips. “There we go.” She smiled, the pulled you over to the bed.

Wanda laid back onto the bed, pulling you on top of her. “You get to fuck mommy now, okay bunny?” You couldn’t help but rut your hips, the faux cock grazing her slit. She grabbed the silicone member to her dripping hole, and demanded you to move.

You slipped the cock into her, a moan coming from her sending throbbing pleasure to your cunt. “Fuck baby, move your hits just like that- fuck! Go faster for me bunny!” She groaned, your hips snapping into her. Trying your best to make your mommy cum, she love your determination so much.

“Suck on mommy’s tits bunny, cmon.” Your lips wrapped around her perky pink nipples, your free hand pinching at the other one. Wanda’s hand cradled the back of your head as you sucked. “Fuck! Keep fucking into your mommy like that bunny, what a good little bunny you are.” Your final thrust grew sloppy as you brought her to her orgasm.

Your now very weak body fell forward onto Wanda’s, her hand gently pushed your hair out of your face. “You did so good for me bunny, let me reward you one more time.” You whined, “No mommy- ‘m really tired.” Your incoherent begs fell onto deaf ears as she flipped you to your back.

The harness was now discarded from your hips, but the toy was in Wanda’s hands. She brought it to your lips, slipping the tip of it past your puffy lips. “That’s my good bunny, suck mommy’s cum off the cock. Good bunny!” She praised as you licked the toy clean.

Her fingers ran up and down your thighs, right before settling on your swollen clit. Her fingers ran over the sensitive bud, whimpers coming from you. She removed the toy from your mouth, then it suddenly made contact with your cunt.

The size of it was almost too much for you to bear, the stretch it performed on your abused pussy was detrimental. “There we go bunny, take that big cock like a good bunny.” Wanda’s lips wrapped around your clit, sucking to give you mores stimulation.

It didn’t take much work for Wanda to make you cum. Soft breaths leave your tired lungs as you lay in bliss, Wanda’s hand rubbing comforting circles on your skin. “You okay bunny?” Wanda asked in worry, hoping she hadn’t pushed you too far. “‘m okay, ‘m just sleepy.” She chuckled. “Don’t sleep yet, let me get you cleaned, then we can cuddle up. Sound good?”

Masterlist

[velnoni]

any romantic/nsfw headcanons for stanley pines in a relationship with a trans man who has top surgery already? can be young or old stanley, it doesn't matter

Admittedly, I've never written for a trans male reader, so I hope this came out good. Hope you enjoy it!

Stan Pines x Trans Male Reader

His dating pool is quite minimal if we're being honest here but when he meets you he's genuinely embarrassed, trips over his words a bit, and sweats more than normal. Definitely has the hots for you.

Over the years he's mellowed out and accepted that he could be into guys as well, keep in mind this is a fella who grew up in the 50s so expect him to be a bit nervous or rough around the edges. He shows a genuine interest in you and tries to woo you by giving a tour of the Myserty Shack, ending on the note of giving you his personal number.

Enjoys showing you off. Does not care for the age gap if there is one. Truth be told, he hadn't realized how lonely its been all these years. He really likes giving you kisses on the forehead or sneaking up behind you to tickle your sides in the morning. Will proudly grab your shoulder or waist in public and wiggle his eyebrows to make you laugh or get flustered.

In regards to your top surgery scars, he won't ask too many questions except for maybe did it hurt or how long it took to heal. If you ever feel uncomfortable about it or how they look, he'll smile gently before raising his own wife beater to show his aged body littered with scars, each one with stories from his younger days. Claims that you're both matching.

"They ain't somethin' to be worried about trust me." And he genuinely means it. He's not gonna pretend to know what you been through or force a story outta you. But just wants you to feel comfortable in your own skin, especially around him. Life is too short to be worrying unless you hear sirens.

He does like to kiss the scars or touch them. He likes how they feel under his fingertips.

He'll call you handsome, beefcake, cutie, or a shortened version of your name as terms of endearment. Wonders if it's appropriate to buy flowers for guys, too. He's a bit old school and might get you a bouquet of daises for the first date. If you do that for him, he'll nervously laugh and accept the flowers. If his eyes are watering no they're not.

On slow days, when it's just the two of you laying in bed, he likes to cuddle and caress your happy trail if you have one. If not, then he'll run his hands alongside your belly till he doses off.

nsft under the cut

He likes to top as it's something he's more used to and will gladly eat you out if asked. Enjoy when you wear more revealing outfits near him because his body will act like a hormonal teenager around you.

He's pretty good with his tongue and fingers, a bit on the rusty side, but enjoys hearing your moans when he slips his fingers inside your tight walls. He likes to edge you a lot since if he cums once it'll take longer for him to get it back up. His stubble when he leans in to kiss your neck during intercourse ironically makes you feel more sensitive.

Please sit on his face. He loves squeezing your ass a lot and smelling your natural musk right on his face, it drives him wild.

If you want him to use toys on you at first, he can't help be slightly offended. He ain't good enough for you? But you reassure him that it's a good way to spice up the night and help when he needs a break. He doesn't mind plunging dildos inside of you every now and then after that convincing argument, plus it's fun to push your limits with permission.

Pegging him, fingering him? It'll be a very long time before you can convince him to bottom for you or just try new things. It's unfamiliar territory but maybe you coax him just enough with a blowjob and a lot of explaining then maybe just maybe you'll be greeted with the view of a nearly knocked out Stan painted with his own cum, with your strap on deep inside his ass.

[thedivinetexts]

uhh. sorta brat tamer!price punishing reader for flirting with ghost? overstim, daddy kink, afab terminology. he calls you his good girl a few times

- 🐰 -

you act like you don't understand why he's doing this to you.

price has you on your elbows and knees — well, knees. your arms gave out after the last orgasm, leaving you to claw at the sheets for any shred of stability. you're still recovering from it, breaths coming out as gasping little things in between the whimpers and whines. the pads of his thick fingers continue to circle your clit, unrelenting even after wringing three orgasms from you so far.

your hips try to jolt away from his touch, his rough callouses just on the wrong side of too much, but price's other hand is firm on your hip. you won't be able to escape him unless he lets you.

"j-john," you keen, voice warbling pathetically, "please, it's - it's too much -!"

your complaint melts into a little squeal as he stops circling your clit, only to pinch it between his thick digits. he coos darkly at your shaking.

"shhshh, darlin', you can take it." he says. his voice is sickly sweet, a condescending comfort. "this is your punishment, sweet'eart. you can be a good girl for me and take it, right?"

you shake your head in an almost frantic manner, absolutely sure that you can't. he murmurs some more sweet nothings at the almost sobbed protests that spill from you. he wouldn't be surprised if you are crying, honestly. 'specially when he starts up again; light and quick, this time.

"no? love, you deserve this, remember?" price reminds you, voice a low rumble. he keeps a careful eye on the trembling of your thighs, ready to support you himself if he's gotta. ready to pull away, if you're really spent enough to call it. "you spent all evening hangin' off Simon, did'ya think I was gonna let that slide? you're mine, love. I'm jus' remindin' you."

"sorry — I'm s-sorry — please, please," you immediately start to gasp. he thinks it's adorable how quickly you start begging for his mercy once you remember what you're being punished for.

"theeeere you go," he groans. your mewling apologies and pleading is like music to his ears. "Sing fo' me, lovie."

hangin' off ghost, honestly. like the man wouldn't notice a pretty young thing like you watching him the whole night at the bar. like he wouldn't be chomping at the bit to get a piece of you, if you got too close.

price expects you to behave around his lads; you know they're ravenous dogs, waiting for his scraps. it's price who decides when to share what's on his plate though, not you. what morsel has a say in who gets to eat them?

"have ya learned your lesson, sweet'eart?" price asks in the same condescending tone as before. you're too far to care about the slightly mean note to his words, other than the fact it makes you clench around nothing. price chuckles when he sees it. "yeah, baby? ready to be a good girl for daddy?"

you nod jerkily, and price clicks his tongue at you. you know better — he needs words outta you, not just empty-headed gestures. in the meantime, his fingers continue to stroke your sensitive clit, making your hips jump in his hand. it is a punishment, after all.

"i'll be good," you sob the promise. even though it stings, you can't help but rock back onto his fingers, desperate for more. for something more filling. "john - ah, daddy, please, i need your cock, please!"

his fingers are off you in a flash. you almost collapse, relief and disappointment at the lack of stimulation mixing into neediness. you don't have to wait more than a moment before price is flipping you around. muscles flexing, clearly not breaking a sweat as he manhandles you onto your back. he parts your legs, not that you make an effort to shut them. you're too worn out to fight, even if you wanted. you don't, though. he can see the want in your eyes.

"there's my good girl," price groans, reaching between your legs again to prod your puffy lips apart. you whine half-heartedly at him, and he pays it no mind. too busy reaching into his trousers to free his aching cock. it looks an angry red after being neglected for your punishment. he groans, low and deep, as he slides the tip through your folds with almost no resistance. "didn't even have'ta tell you to beg for it. you're so wet f'r me, aren't ya, love?"

"please," you whimper. you feel almost like a broken record, but price clearly enjoys it, the way his eyes somehow go a shade darker.

"alrigh', sweet girl, i got you. i know what'cha need."

price could tease you longer, but he's got a soft spot for you. how can he say no to those tears streaking down your cheeks, especially when you don't even seem to notice them. you took his punishment — it'll be another week or two before you start flirting with one of his boys again. for now he'll give you what you want.

he pushes into you in one fluid movement thanks to the slickness of your cunt. it knocks the wind out of your lungs, head craned backwards and eyes fluttering. the both of you moan in unison; his a low timber and yours a high gasp. you rock against him as soon as he's hilted in you — desperate for another release, this time around his cock. as it ought to be.

for a moment price watches you fuck yourself using his cock with half-lidded eyes, reveling in your enthusiasm. depravity, maybe. whichever it is, he enjoys the view.

then he snaps his hips forwards. you choke on a moan, hands flitting between clawing at the sheets and clawing at his arms. price sets a quick pace; he knows you've got to be exhausted by now. as much as he'd love to spend another hour or eight fucking into your wet, warm heat, he can tell you won't last. already you're clenching down around him, chanting ah ah ahs that has him growling back.

"jus' like tha'," he groans, dropping his head to bury against your neck. your arms wrap around his chest, nails pulling at hair just the way he likes. he might not last either at this rate. he can feel the vibrations of your voice as he plants kisses along your neck — you sound gorgeous. broken.

he shifts his hips, fucking up where he knows your sensitive spot is, and listens to you wail. price nips at your jugular and pounds at the spot. your hands scrabble against his back and he lifts his eyes just in time to see yours roll back. he didn't think you could get any tighter but you do — always making daddy proud, the way you surprise him. he groans again as you come around him, his own thrusts stuttering from their previous machine-like pace. it only takes a few more whimpers from you before he's spilling deep inside. he fucks the both of you through it slowly, before he finally relaxes on top of you.

the two of you lay panting for a few minutes, basking in your afterglow. he gathers you close and presses a kiss to your forehead. chuckles when you pull away, whining petulantly at the beard scratching at you.

"tha's my good lass," he murmurs. "go to sleep, love. i'll clean ya up."