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wildgirllz · 6 months ago

Note

I'm not sure if you are familiar with the "mating press" position, but the little horny voice inside my head says that Tommy would absolutely love it. Just imagine reader having her legs on his shoulders while he pins her down to the bed because he needed to let off steam. Of course, this is completely consensual! Reader is willingly helping her husband out like the sweet housewife she is <3 Would you be up to write something like that? Sorry for being so disgustingly horny about him... (⁠´⁠-⁠﹏⁠-⁠`⁠；⁠)

Omg i love this request!! HAPPY 1K MY BEAUTIES!!!

Mating press with Tommy <3

Warnings: unprotected sex, SIZE KINK OML (I'm sorry I couldn't help myself) pnv, afab reader, he cums inside because he's a loving husband, overall just porn with a little plot

It was a sunny day, the warm Texan breeze on your shoulders as you washed dishes from breakfast. A hefty pile of dishes, Tommy was not a small man to feed. As the warm water eroded the bacon grease from your castiron, you heard some stomping from the yard. You smile, you can imagine how he was looking at that very moment; his mask covering half of his sweaty face, hair stuck to his forehead, shoulders wide and casting a big shadow over whatever he was blocking. His tall frame was delicious, his arms, his hands that held the majority of your torso already made you hot on the back of your neck.

Lost in a trance of your thoughts, you feel the warm water over your hands' sudden absence. You don't need to turn your head to identify the reason. You can already hear his little huffs behind his mask and his big meaty hands pawing at your hips.

“I missed you, Tommy.” You turn and raise your arms to place your hands on his broad chest. His fingers fidget with the red trim of your sundress, one of his favorites. “You like my dress honey? I like this one too, I wear it to ensure you stay grateful for this pretty little wife you got.” You giggle and cover his hands with your own, but only manage to shade a finger or two.

“I made you pie again Tommy, peach crumble! It's right on the counter. Lemme cut you a slice.” You smile warmly before turning to walk to the countertop to your right, but you don't manage. Tommys' hands are glued to your hips, keeping you grounded like a statue on the floor. “You don't want pie, baby?” You ask, sweetly of course. You knew Tommy wasn’t focused on your pie right now, you knew from the second you heard his feet shuffling outside that he had some steam he needed to release, and you’d be damned before you said you didn't want him to take it out on you.

You look up at his lust-filled eyes and reach to untie his sweaty mask. You didn't like that he always felt he had to cover himself up, but you understood it brought more comfort to his everyday life. As the mask fell, you could hear his shaky breaths practically calling for you. You got up on your tiptoes and pursed your lips, so he reciprocated, bending his head downward and capturing you in a warm, desperate kiss.

His hands on your hips lifted your body off of the ground, unconsciously, making your face line up with his. You wrap your legs around his waist, not making it all the way, but you were stable as his hands moved down to cup your ass. You whimper into his mouth, grinding your little hips against his big tummy, and running your fingers through his messy hair.

He lets out a single huff before turning on his heels and taking you to the bedroom. After storming through the doorway, he tosses your body onto your’ neatly made bed and begins to undress. You take his cue and do the same, unzipping your flowy dress and slipping off your white panties. Leaning back in your bed, you take in Tommys' body, how the veins in his hands bulge as he unbuttons his shirt, and how tight his pants look on his thick thighs.

Once he's fully bare, he slowly stalks around the bed, looking you up and down like a piece of meat he’s longing to devour. Suddenly, he yanks you down by the ankles, making you lay flat on the bed. He pushes himself to his knees at the end of the bed, settled between your now parted legs. He shuffles forward a bit, then pulls you by the knees until your legs wrap around his hips.

He bends forward, towering over your frame. He takes your legs and pulls your feet over each one of his shoulders. Your thighs are pressed to your stomach as he settles an arm on both sides of your head. His hair falls around your face, and you reach up to kiss his pretty pink lips. You feel his girth slipping over your slit, and you reach your hand down to press his throbbing cock to your little bud. He groans at the touch of your hand and you begin to rock your hips back and forth, covering his length with your slick.

Not long after, he begins to rock his hips against yours in tandem. His forehead touches yours and you can feel his warm breaths covering your face. On one of his slower thrusts, the tip of his cock caught on the rim of your hole, making you take a sharp breath in. Tommy looks at you to make sure you’re okay, then slowly slides his fat member into you without warning.

“Tommy! Jesus, baby slow down.” You whimper out. The intrusion makes your lips quiver and hands grip the sheets, so he takes your arms in one of his hands and moves them to wrap around his neck, immediately latching onto his hair. As he settles his hefty body on top of yours, his tummy pressing down tightly on yours, he pushes even further forward, trying to get as deep as possible.

Your moans turn into choked-out groans as he slowly pounds into you. Your toes curling and heels digging into his damp back. He lets out deep groans and uses his hand to wipe hair from your face. He cups your cheek and kisses you, a distraction from the ache of your stretched hole, struggling to accept his large cock.

His thrusts pick up in pace, and he buries his face into your neck. His hands slide down to grip your hips, and he maneuvers your body to slam down on his cock in time with his thrusts. In a state of complete cock-drunk bliss, you struggle to let out a whine as you feel your peak approaching. Rolling your eyes back, you grip his hair between your fingers and give it a little tug, before feeling the warmth of your orgasm explode through your body in ripples of pleasure.

Your back arches and your legs shake, the feeling of your pussy clenching over his length makes him whimper, and his thrusts become fast and shallow. You whine at the feeling of him abusing your overstimulated warmth, and Tommy leans down to bury his face in your breasts and grips your hips almost bruisingly in his hands, quickly reaching his orgasm himself.

He wraps his arms around your back and pulls you as close to him as possible before letting out one more deep thrust and filling you to the brim with his seed. He groans and flips over on his back, taking you with him. You lay over his body, feeling his cock softening inside you as his spend drips out. You both catch your breath and relax, his hands rubbing gently over your back.

You close your eyes and let the cool air of night take you both to sleep.

feel free to leave requests! (get FILTHY.) <3

#thomas hewitt x reader #slasher x reader #slashers x you #thomas hewitt smut #thomas hewitt x you #slasher fucker #slasher x you #slasher smut #thomas hewitt x y/n #tommy hewitt x reader #leatherface x reader #leatherface smut

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osaemu · 1 year ago

Text

GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ SOME THINGS NEVER CHANGE ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ staying the night at your ex-husband's house was a mistake. NSFW

contents: fem!reader. you and gojo have a daughter. oral (m. and f. recieving), satoru calls you a slut + whore, degradation mixed with praise, mocking, dacryphilia.

author's note: edit—crying bcs an irl read this and alluded to it in one of our convos pls actually kill me /hj

"hey, sweetheart," the man holding your daughter's hand says casually, as if he doesn't know how much you hate the pet name. "you took your sweet time."

a familiar scowl makes its way onto your face and you cross your arms. "satoru, will you ever stop calling me that?" you ask exasperatedly, pressing two of your fingers into your temples.

six years.

you've known satoru for six years, and you were his wife for four of them. now, after a long, painful road, you two were finally divorcées.

it's been a year since you and satoru ended things, and sure, it was hard for all of you, but life moved on. your daughter, to her delight, still gets to see her father on weekends. and unfortunately, you usually tagged along.

"mommy, can we stay for the night?" your four year old asks, looking up at you with big, shiny eyes. "please?"

you hesitate — if it were up to you, you wouldn't stay in this house, the one you once lived in any longer. "sorry, pumpkin. i think we should go. wouldn't wanna intrude on daddy's space any longer."

you hate the look on satoru's face when you refer to him in the same way your daughter does. fucking pervert.

"you two can stay as long as you want," satoru interjects smoothly. he smiles lazily, kneeling down to your daughter's height and ruffling her hair. "it's kinda late, isn't it? i'd hate for you to have to drive all the way back in the dark."

"yeah, mummy!" your daughter says, nodding along to satoru's words. "i'm tired."

you wince and ignore the smug grin on satoru's face as he stands back up with a soft grunt. "we should head home, kiddo. i bet your dad has work to do, and we have our own house."

satoru frowns slightly at the last statement, but he doesn't even consider shooting back — not in front of his daughter. "sweetheart," he says to you, voice coated in that sickeningly sweet tone that you hated, "it's late. and i don't have any work."

when satoru sees the way you scowl at him, a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. "you have any other reasons why you wanna leave?"

none that you need to know.

both your ex-husband and your daughter, who takes after her dad more, take your silence as grudging agreement.

"hey, kid, d'you want to go to bed?" satoru fondly asks your daughter, ruffling her hair again. when she nods, sleepiness evident in her eyes, satoru scoops her up and carries her off to her room without looking back.

when they turn the corner into your daughter's room, you sigh and plop down on satoru's couch. your ex-husband was an infuriatingly good father, and it pissed you off.

a couple minutes later, satoru strolls out of the room, closing the door gently behind him.

"so, babe, you dating anyone?" satoru says conversationally as he plops down on the couch next to you. he's close enough to make you tense, but stays just out of your personal space.

"what's it to you if i am?" you mutter, ignoring the pet name. you know that if you tell him to stop, he'll just say it more, so you don't bother.

he scoffs and faces you, resting his back against the arm of the couch. "what's up your ass today?"

"fuck off, satoru."

satoru whistles and tsks at you, shaking his head. "language, sweetheart. you kiss our daughter with that mouth?"

after a couple seconds, his expression softens and he studies your face carefully. "what's on your mind?"

and just like that, you're back to the times when the two of you were happy. back when satoru wasn't such a dipshit and actually cared about how you felt.

unfortunately, those times were over.

long over, you remind yourself as you dig your nails into the palm of your hand. "nothing you need to be concerned about," you reply. your tone is clipped, and the words come out harsher than you meant them to.

satoru doesn't seem to mind. in fact, he has a lopsided grin on his face as he scoots closer to you, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes.

"you wanna fuck it out?"

his words are so unexpected that your mouth almost drops open. thankfully, it doesn't, but a couple minutes later, your legs do.

"fuckkk," you moan, tilting your head back as satoru's tongue trails a stripe up your slit.

"keep it down, sweetheart," satoru says without looking up. "don't wan' to wake up our daughter, do ya?"

you hum in response, physically covering your mouth with one of your hands to muffle the sounds escaping the confines of your lips.

in the year that you and satoru had ended things until now, you'd slept with a couple guys. you'd even dated one or two of them, but god, none of them could use their mouth like satoru could.

satoru can't help but smile as he eats you out, pulling away momentarily to shake his head at you. "tsk, you were so mean to me earlier. and now look at you." he dips his head to nip at your clit and grins when he feels you flinch.

"i've barely even started and you're already drippin' all over my sheets," he mutters, lips brushing against your inner thigh. "fuck, takin' my tongue so good, you little slut."

"satoru, i w-wanna cum," you mewl, shuddering when his tongue re-enters your folds. "wan' you inside me."

"i already am, dummy."

you feebly attempt to swat his head in response before scowling and insisting that he knew what you meant.

satoru scoffs as he pulls himself up to face level to you. he readjusts his position over you so your back is pressed into the mattress underneath him before pressing his lips to your ear.

"let's put that mouth of yours to use, yeah?" he mumbles, slipping two fingers underneath his sweatpants' waistband and tugging him off.

it's been years since you last fucked with satoru, and in that time you had forgotten just how pretty he was. you'd never admit it out loud, but you really didn't mind the reminder. setting into a comfortable position, you wrap your lips around his cock, relishing the way his moans get louder and louder.

you hum slightly, resisting the urge to smile when you feel satoru shake from the vibration. but god, his reaction when you run your tongue over his tip? priceless.

"fuck, baby, it's been too long since you've sucked me off. forgot how good you were- aah," he cuts himself off with a breathy moan. "fuckkk."

you briefly stop to look up at him with a cheeky smile. "you still moan like a girl, satoru."

"and you're as much of a slut for me as ever," he grumbles, reaching down and pushing your head into his painfully hard cock again. "d-don't stop, baby. feels s' good."

satoru's moans only get louder from there, until you have to be the one reminding him that your daughter's asleep two doors down.

"m' gonna cum," he whines, grabbing a handful of your hair and tangling his long fingers in it. "swallow all of it, yeah? don't waste a drop."

you nod your head obiediently, using your tongue just the way you know he's always liked to push him closer and closer to the edge until–

"fuckin' whore," satoru gasps, groaning loudly as he cums in your mouth, hips grinding against your face. "aah, missed your s-slutty tongue, baby, fuck."

"missed your girly moans," you manage to gasp before his tip hits the back of your throat, painfully so.

"shut up and swallow," satoru commands, tugging on your hair just enough to make you cry out. "yeah, who's moaning like a slut now, hmm?"

after you swallow all his cum and lick your now-swollen lips, satoru has you open your mouth so he can check.

"good girl, looks like there's at least one thing you can do right, even if it is just sucking me off. c'mere," he mutters, pinning you down on the mattress and making the bedsprings creak loudly. "m' gonna fuck you, m'kay?"

you nod, reaching out to stroke his saliva-covered cock. "y-yes, please, satoru."

your ex-husband, who you should really not be fucking with, looks down at you with a smirk and takes your hand, bringing it up to his lips. "you look so pretty, baby. all covered in my cum, never looked hotter."

he nudges your legs apart with his knee before pushing himself into you, gritting his teeth through a smug grin when you cry out in pain. "careful, baby. wouldn't wanna wake up our daughter with your slutty moans, would ya?"

"s-satoru, hurts s' much," you whine, pawing at his chest. "you're too big, i can't-"

"you're too big, i can't," satoru mocks, rolling his eyes. "how do you think our daughter was made, baby? did the storks just drop her off?"

his next thrust is particularly harsh, and something about your pained cry almost makes him cum again on the spot. "fuck, we should do this more often," satoru cooes, reaching up and stroking your cheek. "wait, you cryin'?"

yes, you were crying. your cheeks were wet with a mixture of your tears and the remainder of his cum from earlier, and fuck, all you could think about was satoru's cock. so much for being so over him.

satoru laughs, shaking his head and slowing his pace to give you a kiss. "just when i thought you couldn't get any prettier, you gotta go and prove me wrong," he mumbles, licking his lips. "god, you're fucking beautiful."

he presses his lips to yours again, this time letting his tongue slip into your mouth. "i missed you so much, baby. i still do," he mutters in between kisses. he's controlling the pace, purposefully making each kiss's ending sudden as to not allow you to talk — only him.

"you know how many times i've jacked off to you?" satoru breaths, reaching down to grab your thighs and push you impossibly deeper into him. "you know how fuckin' much i want to put a ring on your finger?"

"satoru, i-" you try to say, but his mouth is on yours before you can finish your sentence. and a couple seconds later, more words are waterfalling out of him.

"fuck, baby, you have no idea. i fucked up, but i swear i've changed. c'mon, give me one chance, i-"

"mummy? daddy?"

you and satoru both flinch and whip your heads towards the door when you hear your daughter's voice, preparing to make up some far-fetched story to tell her besides we were fucking.

thankfully, the universe allows you two seconds to cover yours and satoru's bodies with a blanket before your daughter opens the door and pokes her head inside. "i heard noises."

you look at satoru for help making up an excuse, and thankfully he has one ready to go.

"oh, we were just watching a movie," he lies, running a hand through his hair. "go back to bed, kiddo. we'll tuck you back in in a second, yeah?"

your daughter looks at you before looking back at satoru and nodding.

"close the door, please!" you call as she turns to leave. when the door shuts behind her, you let out a long exhale and bury your head in satoru's chest.

and to your horror, the door opens once more.

your daughter looks at you with shiny, curious eyes. "mommy, are you and daddy back together?"

satoru saves you from having to answer that impossible question with a laugh, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer. "go back to bed, pumpkin. i'll be there to tuck you in."

ten seconds after the door shuts for what you hope is the final time, you turn and glare at satoru. "you're gonna tuck her in?"

satoru scoffs in mock disbelief, raising his eyebrows and pointedly looking you up and down. "if you wanna tuck in our four year old daughter covered in my cum, be my guest."

you nudge his arms off of you and bury your face in a pillow, groaning softly. "fuck you, satoru."

"love you too, sweetheart."

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wyvernest · 1 year ago

Text

hands on you

pairing: miguel o'hara xf!reader

warnings: perv!miguel, miguel being extra handsy, smut, groping (consensual), established relationship, teasing, pda, public teasing, alcoholic beverages?

summary: miguel can't take his hands off of you in the club

Miguel knew you liked him being overly affectionate in public, just to show everyone how deeply in love with him you are. So deeply, that you couldn't gather one single fuck to give about what others thought.

Sure, there were lines neither of you would ever cross. But there was something so delicious about taking risks that had you more intoxicated than 5 mojitos.

This is why you now find yourself rummaging through your closet, looking for something downright obscene. Something so inviting that would make it hard for Miguel to keep his hands to himself for the whole night.

The two of you had arranged to go clubbing for the first time in what felt like a century. Since both of you preferred 1 on 1 alone time, it was a rarity that one would voice the desire to break out of the usual, intimate, comforting routine.

But this time, you want something filthy. Not soft or private. Something that would bring him to the very brink of despair for being so close, yet so far from it.

"¿Estas lista?" (Are you ready?) You hear the bathroom door open as Miguel steps out into the doorway, a towel around his hips and another in his hands as he aggressively attempts to partially dry his dripping wet hair.

You almost start drooling looking at him in the closet door mirror. This is gonna be fun.

"I'm still thinking." You replied, absentmindedly. Oh how you wish you could just ditch the plans, forget about going out and spend the rest of the evening on his dick. To just give him a familiar shove and watch him lay down on the soft bed, hands roaming your body as you climbed on top of him-

No. You have to stick with the plan. Just for once.

As he blow-dries his hair, you snatch the top and skirt you picked and run downstairs, not wanting him to see you before you get to your destination.

But how you wish you could stay in the bedroom and watch his back muscles flex as he pulls that black shirt over his head, how he looks in the mirror as he fixes his hair. His mere presence made you wet.

You snap out of your reverie, swiftly changing and covering yourself with a nice beige coat. Just as you were done with the last touches in the hallway mirror, Miguel stepped down the stairs.

The black shirt slightly stretches over his muscles, giving you a clear view of his pecs and the outlines of his hard abs. He's sporting beige pants, and you wonder just for a second how obvious a boner would be underneath the thin, creamy material.

The drive to the club is flooded with knowing looks and flirty comments, which again make it hard for you not to abandon ship and fuck him in the driver's seat, pulled over on a nice, dark alley.

"I know what you're doing."

"What?" You inquire, faking innocent shock.

He gestures towards your coat, his eyes darting from yours to the clothing item and back to the road.

"I just want to surprise you." You defend yourself, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, brushing a few hair strands behind his ear. You lean into him, placing a tender kiss on his cheek.

You arrive at the club, discarding the coat to leave it in the car. He almost forgets to lock the doors the moment he sees you. Plushy breasts pushed together and nearly spilling out of a skin tight top, ass peeking out from underneath a skirt too short.

"Carajo." (Fuck.) He rasps, before sprinting over to you, wanting to shield you from wandering eyes. Any doubts that it might've been too much are washed away the second you're hit with the realisation that Miguel's hands are going to be on you for the whole night. Either protectively or for other reasons, you couldn't bring yourself to care that much.

As you walk in, you remain glued to him. body to body. Even as you dance, you move against him, soft tits squished on his chest, hands wandering over his shoulders and his neck.

His own hands are anchored on your waist, his fingers digging into your delicate skin.

Glazed over eyes, pretty mouth agape, lips painted in gloss; they're too much for him. He leans into your touch, kissing you messily. It's all tongue and hot puffs of heaved breaths, desperate and painfully needy.

Seizing the opportunity, you inhaled softly and slowly, feeling the scent of him, cologne mixed with his distinctive musk that has your brain melting into nothing but the thought of irrevocably being his.

Suddenly, a straying hand travels down your body, from the dip of your waist and over your hip, settling on the tender flesh of your ass, his fingertips skin to skin on you, thanks to the shortness of the flimsy skirt.

He pulls you against him, trapping you with the other hand splayed out on your back. You feel your heart rate pick up speed.

His one-day stubble scratches your silky cheeks, almost an invasion. Almost disrespectful to the extensive skin care routine you have and religiously stick to, but that's what you like most about it. No matter how much time you spend on yourself, he always ruins you. Your makeup, your clothes, covering your freshly-carefully-lotioned body in hickies and marks. Simply because you're his.

The palm on your ass squeezes and kneads over the feverish skin, the skirt hiking up in the process as he exposes your thin, lace thongs.

You moan in faux protest, looking up at him and breaking away from the suffocating kiss.

"¿Que pasó, muñeca?" (What happened, doll?). He continues to squeeze, the feeling of his big, rough hand rubbing the plumpness of your ass starts to pool raw need between your legs.

"You don't like me touching you like this?" He speaks into your ear, eyes half lidded and predatory. "Isn't that what you dressed up like this for, hm?"

The bastard.

You take one fraction of a second to look around, taking note that nobody was watching, apart from a few guys who either enjoy the show or are patiently waiting for Miguel to leave you alone for just a minute.

Not gonna happen.

"Dime." (Tell me.) He steals your attention, his embrace almost lifting you off the ground just to hold you whole against him.

You mouth 'Yes', knowing you can't trust your shaky voice to speak louder for him to hear over the music.

The dancing area is getting increasingly crowded as the night seeps deeper into the city, so you two move towards the bar. He sits on one of the chairs, patting his leg for you. You place yourself on his thigh as he manspreads to give you more space, curling a strong arm around your waist.

You feel the fabric of his beige pants come into contact with your panties, your skirt too short to cover your ass, let alone allow you to sit without having it slide up. You close your legs tightly, seeking a bit more privacy from the public eye.

Trying not to slip from your seat, you attempt to brace yourself on your palms; one hand on his knee, pushing your back into him, and one on-

Fuck.

Your other palm accidentally lands on his crotch, your fingers grazing his half hard cock. Before you can take your hand away and hide your flushed face, he grabs your wrist and keeps it there.

The bartender is making cocktails at the opposite end of the counter, so no one can see what's actually going on. He starts guiding your hand to rub him up and down, a content sigh leaving him. You could swear your own face is very telling by now.

You cup him through the material, feeling the familiar girth of his cock fatten at your attention. He's getting warmer, and so are you.

Before he can start drifting into pleasure, the bartender runs to him, waiting for the order. Miguel asks for a beer, frustrated at the loss of contact, your hands now on the marble counter.

More people gather around the bar, and as his request gets temporarily forgotten amidst the others, he relishes in the re-obtained semi privacy.

"¿Estás bien, muñequita?" He asks, a hint of concern plastered on his face at the sight of your flushed face.

"Don't worry. I'll tell you if I'm uncomfortable." You reassure, feeling bolder.

He smirks, looking around, checking. He feels like a horny teen-ager who has no other choice but to try to explore and test the waters in public. But in reality, he knew exactly what he was doing.

He turns to you, placing a kiss dangerously close to the top of your right breast, teasing. Before you can look down through your hazy vision, he glides a warm palm between your legs, past your skirt, two fingers fitting in the valley of your soft pussy.

You restrain yourself from gasping, instead seeking to hide your face in the crook of his neck. He moves his hand over the mound, flicking your clit through your panties. He can undoubtedly feel how wet you are as he so obscenely cups your cunt. You feel the heat of his palm on you, so comforting in such a filthy way; like that's where it belongs.

Looking down, you're met with the sight of his veined burly arm, muscles flexing as he plays with you, his wrist barely visible underneath your skirt. You clench around nothing, and his motions quicken with expert ease, a clear sign he felt you.

You're left infuriatingly needy for more when he retracts his hand as if nothing happened, the bartender bringing him his beer. You give him a pissed look, and he smiles as he brings the bottle to his mouth.

Smiling, like, what's wrong?

You move to threateningly leave from your seat on his lap, but he follows as expected. He can't lose sight of you.

Walking just a bit further into the crowd, you take his hand behind you. Swaying your hips and undulating your body to the music, you feel the beat through your veins, in your chest, in your head. He comes up behind you, his rhythm in sync with your movements.

Brushing your hair out of the way from behind, he slowly bends down to lick and kiss at the sensitive skin on the side of your neck, raising goosebumps over your skin. You don't know how much longer you'll stay here, seeing how clingy and needy Miguel has gotten.

You feel your pulse throbbing in your neck and through your lust-hazed mind at the stimulation.

"Feel how fast my heart's beating." You take his hand, placing it where your heart would be. He brings the beer bottle to his mouth, drinking nonchalantly as his palm instantly dips into your cleavage, cupping your left breast. You stiffen, once again surprised.

"Yeah." He confirms, as if he didn't just start groping you to feel your heartbeat. "Pretty fast."

He is well aware of how worked up you get simply because of this attitude. He leaves the bottle on a nearby glass table, now both his hands on your boobs, nearly taking them out of your top to play with them. He looks wrecked, absolutely drunk on need.

One of his arms soon curls around your waist and back, pulling you close into him, the other hand still fondling your chest. You arch your back, pushing yourself impossibly closer into his touch, seeking the warmth of his palm.

Wanting to drive him completely mad, you turn around, your back to him, and start grinding your plushy ass over his groin. He grips your hips, guiding you, not hesitating to let his hands wonder back to your tits, squeezing them under the elastic material of your shirt while you're rubbing yourself on his painful erection.

You can now see people staring, especially at the way he touches you. Arching backwards, you curl your arms around his neck, your chest pushed forward and so much more accessible. His palms are now hot on your soft breasts, craving more. Fondling with fervent need.

The music and the people are drowned out, muffled into the very back of your headspace. He leans down, his mouth to your ear.

"Let's get out of here."

divider by @cafekitsune

a/n: tried to make it as non problematic and as filthy as possible at the same time goddamn

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rueclfer · 5 months ago

Text

Fake Dating // Bakugou

a/n: hi all, i am back from the dead with this shit that took me DAYS to finish bc my brain is def not used to writing anymore. pls enjoy and maybe keep a look out for PART 2 if people want it !

You stare at your phone in disbelief. The audacity he had to tell you where to go, how to dress, and to essentially perform in front of everyone for him. Of course this was a mutually beneficial agreement, but at least you only dragged him along to your family functions sparingly.

You two had come to this agreement early last Winter when family members kept pestering you about potentially finding a love interest at your new University, and for him when he couldn't shake off all of the romantic confessions from the students in the other classes.

No one else knew about your arrangement. What made it so much more unbearable was the fact that you shared the same cohort and friend group, so it was a constant facade whenever you're in each other's presence with the others around.

You felt a bit awkward coming to the party alone, and a few hours late. You could hear the bass thumping through the door from the front yard, and from the looks of it, there were far more people than you expected, but on the bright side, it'll be easier to be invisible within the crowd than have to hold up this facade all night.

You approached the front to see Jirou catching a breath of fresh air. She had a drink in one hand and her other interlocked with Momo's

"Are you guys already tapping out?" You asked, taking the steps up the porch.

"Y/N!! For a second I thought you weren't going to make it!" Jirou says, releasing Momo from her grasp and giving you a big hug. "I'm so happy you're here."

"Can't blame me for always being fashionably late” You embrace her back.

"Better now than never." She drunkenly chuckles “Bakugo’s been a moody bitch all night please go contain him”

“Are we surprised?” You roll your eyes and laugh. “Where are you two off to?”

"I'm gonna take Momo out for some air and to maybe vomit, but go inside and I'll find you later!"

“I love you Y/N!! Take a shot for me!!” Momo slurs and blows you a kiss as Jirou drags her away.

"I love you too, Mo! I'll catch you guys inside."

Once you stepped foot inside, it felt like the air from your lungs were instantly replaced with the thick fog of weed and cigarette smoke. It was suffocating, but all too familiar at the same time. You recognized many of the faces around from campus, but none of which were your close friends.

Before anything else, you decided to stop by the kitchen to pour yourself something to drink. To be honest, you weren't picky with your liquor. As long as it did its job, you weren't going to complain. You grabbed a red solo cup off of the stack and poured in a shot and some change worth of cheap vodka.

Mina has to have some red bull somewhere around here…

You quickly down it and refill another cup to carry around while you look for your ball and chain, Katsuki. You wander around the crowd for a few moments, waiting for someone you knew to catch your attention, but no one did. You decide to take a break to lean against a wall and to send Katsuki a text to see where he was hiding. Before you could even get your phone unlocked, you received a notification from him.

After he sent the last message, you looked up and searched for his meeting eyes. He said he was looking right at you, but for some reason you couldn't find those fiery eyes.

“Looking for someone?” A low voice breaks you from your search.

You turn to see Katsuki leaning up against the wall right beside you, almost shoulder to shoulder.

“Hmmm yeah I am, actually. Have you seen my boyfriend?” You turn to him fully. “He’s tall, messy blonde hair, kind of has a stupid look to his face, really hot though, trust me, and also like a medium build?”

You catch a glimpse of the smallest smirk on his face.

“Yeah? Well I’ll be sure to keep a lookout for him. In the meantime though, can you keep an eye out for my girlfriend? Angel faced, toothy smile, obnoxious ass laugh though, like if you hear honking, it's probably them.” He retaliates.

You both stare at each other in silence before you break character and playfully punch him in the arm. “Shut up, idiot. I don't honk.”

“You do. Like a goose.”

"You're so good at this flirting thing, Katsuki. Keep it up." You say sarcastically.

"It is my job, after all."

He stealthily wraps his arms around your shoulder, bringing himself in closer to you. He damn near was caging you in against the wall, blocking out the rest of the party with his back.

“So what's the game plan for tonight?” You peered up at his towering figure.

“Hang out for a couple hours, do all that lovey bullshit and then I’ll take you home. Don't get too messy tonight either. I’m not trying to babysit.”

“Worry about yourself, lightweight.” You roll your eyes.

“And is this straight vodka?" He looks into your cup with disgust. "Are you mentally ill?"

“I couldn't find the red bull.” You shrug.

“So it's either that or straight vodka?”

“Yeah and? You have a problem with that?”

“Yeah I actually do. It's fucking insan-” He starts.

“Bakugou!” A voice interrupts behind him. “There you are!”

You two lock eyes for a brief second. Just when you were actually starting to enjoy yourself with annoying Katsuki, you remember that you were only here for one reason. Katsuki's jaw clenched as he turned over to lean back against the wall beside you.

“Oh. Y/N you’re here too.” They say in a deflated tone. “I was just wondering if you could give us a second to chat?” They bat their eyelashes.

“I'm not in the mood to chat.” He says, pulling you closer by the waist.

“We’re actually about to go meet up with the others. Catch him next time.” You smile sweetly, interlocking your fingers with his and dragging him towards the backyard.

To your surprise, your friends were actually all there surrounding the firepit.

Denki was the first to spot you. He gasps and jumps up from his seat.

"You're here!" He nearly trips over his own feet trying to get over to you. He pulls you in a big hug, sweeping you off your feet. "Oh my god Y/N I missed you so much I could cry right now."

He was clearly a drink or two over his limit. His cheeks were bright red and he was already starting to sweat through his shirt.

“I missed you too, Denks.” You let yourself get twirled around by him.

“Finally you're back, I’m tired of holding onto your nasty drink.” Kirishima says, passing a red solo cup to Katsuki once he sat down.

You tried to take the empty seat next to him, but he immediately grabbed your wrist to pull you to share his chair. Your eyes widen at his own, as if you could telepathically curse him out. You clench your jaw as you feel a hot flash across your face.

“It’s cold. Stay close.” He simply says.

You nervously chuckle. “There's a fire right there, babe.”

“Do it for me then.” He smirks.

You silently groan to yourself as you lean back into his chest in defeat. Luckily, the chair had enough width to allow you to not have to fully sit on his lap, moreso just a leg slung over his own.

“Try this.” He lifts the solo cup to your lips.

You peer down at the dark red liquid in his cup. The smell burnt your nose. You shot him a weary glance before you downed his concoction, having to pinch your nose right after to subdue the burn. The shock of spicy and tangy residue left your throat burning with every inhale.

"What the fuck is that?" You choke out, continuing to pinch your nose.

"Fireball, lemon juice, and OJ." He smiled mischievously. "Thoughts?"

"The nerve you have to comment on my drink after sipping on this bullshit all night? It tastes like piss.”

He shrugs, wearing a lazy smile as he grips the softness of your inner thigh, with his other arm wrapped around your shoulder, fiddling with a lock of your hair.

You were internally screaming. Usually, there would be a hand holding or an arm around the waist or shoulder, but he was never this touchy whenever you had to act like a couple in front of your friends or even in front of the people trying to get at him.

You look around the firepit to see that all of your friends were in loud conversation with one another- laughing, arguing, and definitely not paying you two any attention.

“What are you doing?” You say low enough that only he could hear. “You're like, all up in my shit."

“5 o’clock, babe.” He simply says.

You slightly turn your head to your right to see the person from earlier, trying to not-so-obviously stare at you both.

“Tryna give them a show or something? You roll your eyes.

“Only if you'd let me.” He whispers.

You felt a chill crawl up your spine. God he's being gross. But you liked it. When you first made your little arrangement, you swore to yourself to not to catch any type of feelings for him, but the more time you spent charading around as a couple, the deeper you fell into this infatuation despite how hard you fought against it or played it off as a part of the bit.

“Don’t kill me, okay?” You whisper, meeting his eyes and forcing a smile.

You turned your head to fullyface his own and leaned in. Both of you were caught by surprise- his eyes widening right before you made contact. You two had never crossed this line before, let alone talked about it. It was only ever the unspoken rule of “don't catch feelings” and “no couple shit when we’re alone.”

His lips were soft and swollen as if he spent the last hour biting down on them. Once your lips crashed into his, it felt like your stomach was turning inside out, and a fire lit within.

It's fine, it's for show. It’s fine, you agreed to this. It’s fine, it’s not real.

You were fucked. You hated him, but you liked him. Maybe it was more than like. Maybe like isn't even the right word at all, but all you knew was that you needed to stop and take a second to reevaluate what you were doing with Katsuki.

In reality, the kiss lasted no more than 10 seconds, but it felt like you had fallen into the fire pit and laid in it for hours. Your body was on fire.

Once you broke away, you two stared at each other blankly, blinking away the realization of what had just happened. You didn't know whether to laugh and slap him on the shoulder, or start crying.

“I-I'm gonna go get another drink!” You suddenly exclaim, getting up and leaving him in his chair.

I'm so FUCKED.

You quickly snake your way through the large crowd that had filtered their way to the backyard. You stop by the kitchen to pour yourself a heaping cup of whatever liquor bottle was closest to you, down a large gulp, and take the rest with you to the bathroom.

Your head was starting to feel a bit hazy from the mix of second hand smoke as well as your drinks from earlier starting to settle in your stomach. Did you even eat anything before drinking like this? You weren't really expecting to have anything more than one drink, but after your kiss with Katsuki, you suddenly feel the need to forget it all.

You were sitting up against the bathtub, wallowing in your complicated mass of feelings, and now fully intoxicated. You let your head rest on top of your knees while you replayed every single interaction you've had with him tonight.

Your phone started buzzing on the floor next to you. You opened the screen, eyes squinting to adjust to the brightness.

Of course it was Katsuki.

You sat and stared at your feet for a few minutes until you heard pounding on the door. Judging from the force of it, it was either a fucking SWAT team or Katsuki.

You grab a hold of the side of the bathtub to hoist yourself up, stumbling a bit while doing so and unlocked the door. Of course behind it was the latter.

He lets himself in and shuts the door behind him, leaning back on it.

You were wildly embarrassed for a multitude of things. You were on the verge of messy drunk, your face was stupidly hot and flushed, you kissed your fake boyfriend and ran away, you're swallowing down your feelings, and now here he is to reprimand you for all of it.

"Water as per requested." He pops open the cap of a fresh water bottle and hands it over to you.

"Thanks." You mutter and drink the water in silence.

"So are you upset at me?" He finally asks.

"Yes."

"And why is that?" He cocks his head to the side.

You were drunk, no doubt about it, but this unserious playful tone in his voice that pissed you off was clear as day. Why were you the only one freaking out? Did he not care? It surely confirmed that he does not and never have felt the same as you and truly did think of your "relationship" as nothing more but a transaction.

You purse your lips and remained silent.

"Because... you kissed me?"

You nodded.

"So you're upset at ME... because YOU kissed ME..." He states once more.

You were on the verge of tears. He loved making you look stupid but this was tenfold now. Not that he was wrong, but you weren't in the mood for it.

"So what if I am?" You choke out, tears now brimming over.

Katsuki's eyes widened, clearly not expecting you to break down so easily after a couple of harmless questions. You steps towards you and grabs your shoulders, not quite sure what to do or how to react.

"Hey hey hey, what the fuck? Why are you crying all of the sudden? Seriously, Y/N it's not a big deal."

"It is." You whine. "It is and you don't even care!"

He finally pulls you into him, letting you sob into his shoulder. His hand caressing your back in comfort.

"You idiot." He says after a moment of silence. "You're such an emotional drunk. This is why I told you not to get messy." He scolds. "I do care. But I won't if you don't want me to."

"I do want you to care. I want you to like me. Not just like me, but like-like me." You confess.

You feel him stiffen under you. Clearly your drunken state had forced you to say the wrong thing, but you didn't care.

"But do you like-like me?" He asked back, pulling you back to look at your tear stained face. "Drink some more water and sober up a bit before you answer okay?" He brings the water up to your face.

"I don't want anymore water!" You push his hand away. "I like-like you and I hate being your fake girlfriend and lying to everyone and myself about it!"

His smile grew, but he shook his head. "Okay angel face, let's talk about it then." He moves his thumb up to your cheek to wipe away stray tears.

"You're so wasted, you may not even remember this for tomorrow. But I think you're the coolest person on this fucking block, okay? And I like being around you even though you annoy the shit out of me sometimes. So stop crying and feeling bad. We're fine."

"But we're not! I don't want you to be my fake boyfriend anymore. I think you're cool too and you make me laugh and feel stupid in the heart and I fucking hate you for that, so that's why we shouldn't do any of this anymore."

He doesn't reply, but instead looks down at your sad face, lip still quivering, makeup smudged around your eyes. His hand continued to cup you cheek, forcing you to look back up at him.

Katsuki leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead, letting it linger for a second longer.

"That's okay. We can do something about that when you're sober. If you even remember any of this, anyways. Let's get you home."

He grabs your hand and swiftly leads you out of the bathroom. You wonder what you had just done, whether it was going to blow up in your face (if you even remember the next day) or work itself out? Would it even matter?

#mha x reader #my hero academia #mha #bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugouxreader #bnha oneshots #bnha x reader #boku no hero academia #fakedatingau

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arminsumi · 1 year ago

Text

I want to kiss you / キスしたい

G. Satoru

NOTE: i recently started learning to write in japanese for not much reason other than to occupy my mind with something new. this little daydream came to me and i can't stop thinking about it, i think falling in love despite a language barrier is one of the purest and sweetest ways to fall in love.

WARNINGS — it might be fem reader idk, kissing 👍, ur married w him at the end, not proofread lol i'm snuggled up in bed ok

Satoru cant speak english and you cant speak japanese; Suguru is the translator friend. You met him online years ago, who knows how. But you hit it off, and four years of friendship rolled by.

Satoru heard all about Y/n and saw you many times when Suguru facetimed or called you. You and him had many cute, playful interactions, ranging from making hearthands at each other to flipping each other off and laughing about it. Sometimes Satoru would be sat off-camera, overloading Suguru with things to translate, because he had a lot to say to you. One time, Suguru left for a few minutes to get a pizza delivery, and then Satoru got very quiet and the two of you blinked at your screens.

"Hi."

And then you two for some reason started laughing with your whole chests, Suguru walked in with a confused smirk. He joked, "Sooo... what did you and Satoru talk about while I was gone?" He asked, gentle accent coming through in soft waves. "The mysteries of the universe." You replied. Satoru was already diving into the pizza box, but he still listened to you speak; he wondered what you had said, maybe you used some fancy words to say that you liked him? He'd be lying if he said he didn't memorize variations of "i like you" after that. He was paranoid that he could miss you saying that you liked him.

You managed a slow, meticulously-pronounced nice to meet you in Japanese when you finally visited Tokyo. It was at the airport. You and Suguru had shared many hugs — good grief, you'd seen height comparisons many times but none painted a real idea of just how big these boys were. But Satoru? He was loudmouthed on a screen and surprisingly shy in person. Eventually he hugged you and didn't let go. He even got so comfy as to hang and cling to your body like you saw him doing with Suguru in countless photos and videos.

Though you could barely pronounce the little Japanese that you picked up, Satoru felt giddy to hear your pretty voice in his language. He listened to you like you were reciting love poetry to him, fists under his chin and eyes starry. But you were just saying basic phrases, boring things — nothing that articulated your thoughts properly.

He was far too embarrassed to try and speak any English when he first met you, even though after developing a crush on you he did start learning some English on the side. He knew quite a bit, but listening was so impossibly difficult it frustrated him like nothing else. He was also self-conscious of his English accent, though Suguru tried to assure him that he sounded very cute and almost oddly British.

So often instead of attempting to speak tiny phrases to you, Satoru threw a lot of hand motions and signals your way which got the two of you and Suguru laughing — poor Sugie, he was always translating even the smallest things you said even if you muttered them under your breath, because Satoru was eager to know every little thought and expression you had, even if you were simply commenting on the weather.

Once you commented that it was so hot, you were visiting during a heatwave-filled summer. Satoru raised his brows at Suguru expectantly, and you heard a familiar translation;

暑い。

It's hot.

There was such a frustrating language barrier between the two of you, it became more evident when you had finally flown over the sea to meet them.

Yet you and satoru fell in love silently and beautifully, your love flowing like a river in the most unexpected directions. You felt his affection emanating from his irises. You and him joked around, and talked — though you had no idea what the other meant most of the time. Sometimes the two of you gave up and you talked in English, he responded with Japanese, and it went on like that very comedically until Suguru came back to bridge the gap.

Lots of time was spent putting your heads together over your phone, reading translations of what you wanted to say to each other.

One day, when Suguru left the two of you alone in his apartment kitchen so that he could hop to the convenience store, Satoru typed something into the translator and let you read it. Your face warmed up.

キスしたい。

I want to kiss you.

He looks at you expectantly.

You type back to him.

Then kiss me.

それからキスして。

He blushed and hesistated, the two of you making electric eye contact for a while before he boyishly pecked your lips to test if you liked his kiss, but oh that's all the two of you needed to realize just how much you liked each other. You melted into each other like your bodies were made for nothing else but to embrace and be one. He shook a little, tentatively gliding his lips over yours. His hands nervously cupped your cheeks. With the way he handled you so carefully, you'd think you were made of porcelain.

Your reciprocation meant everything to him. His confidence flourished. The soft smacking, wet sounds got louder when he kissed you more passionately. Those gentle hands found their way to the back of your neck, and he softly pressed you closer to him as if he was scared you would pull away. What if you changed your mind mid-kiss? He was overthinking and you wouldn't have even guessed it, because you thought he was in the same blissed out dream state as you were. So high on kissing that the world fell away.

The two of you started smiling embarrassedly, grinning so hard that you couldn't continue kissing. Then the two of you just giggled against each other's faces — a subconscious realization swept him; laughter and kissing are their own languages.

Yes as years passed and you visited time and time again, your Japanese improved and his English improved. When you moved to Japan, eventually you adopted a messy mix of Japanese and English with Satoru. He liked showing off how perfectly he could pronounce things, and you liked showing off that you could write very neat kana.

Years and years and years passed and when you and him were married in your own little apartment, starting a life together, a very fluent Satoru reminisced about how the two of you fell in love despite barely speaking to each other.

"It was your eyes for me." You said.

"Oh really? It was your voice for me. I didn't know what you were saying, but it sounded nice." He said.

"Mmm I liked your voice, too." You said, snuggling your head on his shoulder. He basked in the attention, though it was common, it always felt special for him. The smallest hand touches and wrist kisses made his heart lurch.

"Remember when I always nagged Suguru to translate every little thing you said?"

"Yeah, you worked him to the bone." You chuckled.

"I just wanted to know what you were saying. I had such a crush on you, looking back now it was even ridiculous how much I liked you considering the barrier and all."

"Ooh, did you?"

"How is this surprising? We're married??"

"Oh yeah."

#🗑️ — trash #♥️ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 — 五条悟 #gojo #gojo satoru #fluff #gojo fluff #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x fem reader #satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jjk gojo #satoru gojo

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miss-oranje-disco-dancer · 15 days ago

Text

start me up

pairing: leon x reader

tags/cws: cumming from nipple stim, thigh job, switch leon?, p in v, just the tip!!

summary: it's pwp

a/n: div creds to @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

wc: 1.5k

tags: @vaaaaaiolet @porcelainseashore @leonfucker3000 @rigorwhoring @withonly-sweetheart

You find out by accident. You're just messing around with Leon who's half-naked because he refuses to wear a shirt to bed even when it's cold outside.

"I'm always hot," he says with a wink.

His jokes may be stupid, but he's entirely correct — he is incredibly hot, all the fucking time.

You find yourself running your hands along his bare skin, innocently tracing shapes with your fingertips.

"What's the point of men having nipples if they can't even use them for anything?" you ask as your hands make their way over his chest.

"How should I know?"

There's something different about his voice, yet so familiar. His breath hitches and his body twitches at the sensation, but he arches towards your touch, not away from it.

"Would you cut that out?" he asks.

You stop, worried you've crossed a line, but then you see the obvious bulge in his sweatpants.

"Why do you want me to stop?" you ask, with a knowing grin.

"Because, like you said… no reason to touch 'em…" he trails off, refusing to make eye-contact.

He's a better liar than this. He's barely even trying. Nevermind the Raccoon City incident cover-up, he kept your surprise party a secret for weeks, led you around the mall for hours so your friends could set up, and you had zero clue. That takes real skill.

"So, this just came out of nowhere?" You ask, as you grab his hard cock through his pants.

You catch him off guard, making him groan.

"Maybe it did," he says.

"Maybe it didn't," you insist.

When your hands traverse his chest, testing the waters, you look him in the eyes to make sure he's okay with this. He gives you an almost imperceptible nod — the reluctant go-ahead. He wants you to do it again, but he doesn't want to admit it.

Before you can resume your little experiment, he grabs your cheeks and pulls you towards him, distracts you for a moment with a fervent kiss. His attempts to regain control are in vain. You don't have to think to kiss him, it's second nature, so your mouth doesn't leave his until you decide to take your lips lower. You work your way down his neck, his collarbone, his shoulders, chest, and when your open-mouthed kisses reach their desired location — his supposedly-useless nipples — he whimpers. You can tell it's an attempt to hold back a moan, but the sound only comes out more desperate.

Effectively straddling his lap now as he lies on his back, you can feel him shamelessly bucking his hips up, trying to get some friction, some attention where he really wants it. You don't stop him, but you don't move your attention away from his nipples either. You switch back and forth between the two, flicking your tongue over one and your thumb over the other.

His breath quickens, as does his heartbeat, and he grips the bed sheets beneath him in lieu of touching you, like he's trying to avoid alerting you to the fact that he's so close. As if he could get away with cumming in his pants without you noticing.

Instead of teasing him, knowing he'll push you away and you won't get what you want, which is to see his head tipped back in pleasure as he moans your name, you ever-so-slightly reciprocate the movement of your hips against his.

His tone is urgent when he all but screams, "fuck fuck fuck". He can't decide if it's worth the embarrassment to let himself go over the edge but it's too late to make the choice not to. You do him the favor of palming him through his sweats as he cums, earning a breathy 'thank you' from Leon.

Once he regains his composure, he flips you onto your back, dips his head between your thighs, and makes you cum almost as quickly as he did. The image of him cumming in his pants brings you over the edge then as well as every time you touch yourself in the next week or so.

So, of course, when you're in a similar position, half-naked and in bed (except this time you're already making out, he's already hard), you say, "we should try that thing again."

You flick one of his nipples to let him know which "thing" you're talking about.

"No," he mumbles into your, mouth, still kissing you, "I wanna fuck you this time."

"What if we compromise?"

"What's your idea of compromise?"

"You can fuck me, but not my pussy."

"Your mouth?" he asks, looking a bit boyish in his excitement.

"Nope."

"Your ass?" He looks surprised, yet not offended by the idea.

"No, Leon, you get to fuck my thighs."

At first, he looks disappointed, but then he grips the flesh of your thighs, and smiles. "They are nice," he muses as he runs his palms over your soft skin.

He's already under your spell, desperate for anything you're willing to give him. Sure, your thighs might not be the same as your cunt, but compared to his hand, your thighs feel like heaven when he slides his cock between them.

You insisted upon lubing him up lest he chafe your thighs with his thrusts. You lock eyes as he lifts your legs up, and you both know he's not going to last long.

He's a mess – rambling incoherently, hips stuttering, eyes screwed shut, knowing that one look at you equals an instant orgasm. But he can't resist. You lock eyes as he shoots ropes of white from your belly button to your chin. You wonder if there's a world record for this.

His cheeks are bright red when his eyes finally meet yours again.

"That was the hottest fucking thing, like ever," you say, much to his surprise. And you mean it wholeheartedly.

"Seriously?" he asks.

"Yeah, I might even let you fuck me as a reward."

Or at least that's what you say. But what you really mean is: I might need you to fuck me because you made me unbearably aroused.

One thing that Leon excels at is getting hard at a moment's notice. It's like how some people can cry on command – Leon can pop a boner just by willing himself to do so.

There's a caveat, of course. "But, just the tip," you say.

"You really only want just the tip?" he asks, teasingly, an attempt to turn the tables as he lazily drags his fingers along your dripping slit.

Yeah, you really do. You really wanna see him cum from almost nothing, again and again for the rest of your life.

"Mhm," you hum as you take his cock and guide it to your entrance.

You both gasp when you feel the head slip inside you. It's an unspoken challenge to see who cums first, and as he begins to thrust, you worry you might lose.

It's addicting – and quickly, you realize the tip isn't enough.

"Leon, Leon, Leon," you chant his name as if you don't have his full undivided attention. "I need more. I need you to fuck me – for real."

"Oh? I thought you wanted just the tip, baby?" He taunts.

"I changed my mind," you say, and seeing the smirk on his face, you add a sincere, desperate, "please."

"Too bad," he says. "I'll fuck you deeper later, baby, but you're getting what you asked for this time."

If he wasn't mean already, he is when he removes his cock entirely. You look at him in shock and horror. His only reaction is to slide his cock along your folds.

"You're so fucking mean," you say, and in that moment, you're convinced you mean it.

"And? What are you gonna do about it, huh?"

"Nothing!” You’re on the verge of tears now. “I surrender. I'll do whatever you want if you just fuck me."

"Whatever I want?" He asks, teasing your entrance with the tip.

You clench around nothing, in anticipation, in vain. "Yes. Whatever you want."

You're prepared to run down the street naked or enter a cage of hungry tigers, but what he asks for is worse. "Okay. Dishes for the week."

You groan, dreading the chore (but not enough to reject the bargain).

"And laundry," he adds.

You don’t even have a chance to think about your answer. Your pussy is in control now as your mind is lost somewhere in the pool of wetness dripping out of you. "Okay, fine, goddamnit, just fuck me."

So, he does. Since you practically milked him dry with just your thighs, he can last much longer. You are at a disadvantage. He fucks you at a merciless pace, making you scream out his name (and making your neighbors hate you even more than they already do).

The orgasm you share makes a mess of the sheets and when Leon pulls out of you, you remember your agreement.

"Oh, fuck me," you say.

"I already did, baby," he says with a particularly cheery tone, basking in the bliss of two orgasms and zero chores.

#leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil smut #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #liztober

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ddejavvu · 3 months ago

Note

I have an idea: Shy reader is caught by Tyler Owen’s watching fancams someone made about his recent livestream chasing tornados. She’s dying; his ego is about to explode when he realizes she actively sought out the content.

Ain't No Love in Oklahoma - Tyler Owens x Reader

come participate in tyler owens night !

You'd hoped that by acting nonchalant, leaving your speakers on a reasonable volume while nondescript country music played, you'd avoid Tyler's impulses to peer at your screen. He never does it out of suspicion, but the two of you practically share phones at this rate. If his is charging, he'll join you in scrolling on yours. If he's driving, you'll watch movies on his phone while simultaneously feeding him directions from the gps.

Unfortunately, you should have vetted the videos before watching them, and the familiar song catches Tyler's attention where he's lounging on the couch opposite you.

"You listenin' to my music, cutie?" He perks up, already displacing himself from his comfy sprawl, "Lemme see."

"What-? No," You shake your head, pausing the video, "It was nothing. Just a video I scrolled past."

"I wanna see it," He urges, invading your space and worming his way between you and the couch, careful to catch you when he nudges you towards the edge, "I like that song, I wanna know what it was."

"I lost it." You insist, exiting the app on your phone, "I'm on a different video now."

"Just scroll back up!" He scoffs, and you're clearly not being as nonchalant as you wanted to be, "C'mon, darlin', be nice to me and let me listen to my music."

"It's nothing, Tyler!" You shriek, but he's got a hold of your phone now, and he's easily maneuvering into your last used app to find himself staring at- well, himself.

'Ain't No Love in Oklahoma' blares through your phone speakers once more as videos of Tyler flash across the screen, various fan-captured shots of him grinning, whooping, winking, and flexing his muscles beneath his tight shirts. It's a fan edit, something perfectly ordinary to be watching, but the fact that the subject of the edit has caught you watching it leaves you in an inescapable state of embarrassment.

"Tyler, give it back," You whine, and you wish it wasn't petulant, but it is. It's pathetic, it's desperate, and bereft of any dignity.

"You're watchin' thirst traps of me," He realizes gleefully, your phone glued to his large hand when you try prying it out of his hand, "You searched for 'em, and you're all cuddled up on the couch watchin' sexy little videos of me, and you've got the real thing right here!"

"Tyler!" You cry, now prying at his arms in hope the sharp scratch of your nails will persuade him to give you your phone back, "Stop teasing me, give it back!"

"I'm not teasing you!" He lies, hooking his arm around your neck, not to choke you but to pin you close to him and stop your squirming, "Relax, sweetheart, I just think it's cute. I'm right here and you're watchin' videos of me wink instead of talking to me."

"The real you isn't all muscle-flexing and winks," You grumble, attempting to squirm out of his hold with cheeks warm from embarrassment, "You're a dirty, rotten bully."

"Oh, stop it," He swats a hand against your side, pressing a kiss to your forehead that you're fairly certain is flushed as well, "I'm not bullying you. I think it's sweet, honey. I'd pose for you, y'know?" He watches the video replay, clocks the way that his muscles tense and tone against the tight sleeves of his tee, "I can get dressed up all rugged and sexy, and you can take videos of me. Think about how popular your videos would be! You've got never-before-seen footage, darlin'."

"I'm not making thirst edits of you," You whine, succumbing to his iron-grip on you and settling into his chest to hide instead of struggling, "I'm never looking you in the eyes again."

"That ain't true," He pulls your chin up easily from where you're digging it into his chest, eyes stern but fond, "You don't ever have to be embarrassed around me. If people made cute little fan edits of you, I'd make 'em my phone background, baby."

#tyler owens x reader #tyler owens fanfiction #tyler owens x you #tyler owens imagine #tyler owens blurb #tyler owens drabble #glen powell x reader #twisters fanfiction

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zombiefiilm · 10 months ago

Text

Fell in Love

spencer reid x gn!reader

summary: you hadn't expected your friend spencer to be home from his most recent case yet, let alone passed out on your couch

warnings: confessions, kissing, fluff, no use of y/n

word count: 1.5k

The moment the key hit the lock of your front door, you practically felt a weight fall off your shoulders. You had been working all day and there was nothing you wanted more than to change into your pyjamas and watch tv for the rest of the night.

Once inside your apartment, you shut the door, instantly dropping your bag to the floor and your keys onto the table. Your shoes were kicked off and your jacket was strewn across a random chair in a matter of seconds and you were ready to run into your bedroom.

But, as you passed by the living room, you caught a glimpse of someone sleeping on your couch, shoes and coat still on.

Really, you should have been a bit more startled by the sight of someone in your home, considering you lived alone, but you were all too familiar with Spencer's habit of dropping by unannounced.

You stopped in your tracks, walking around to the front of the couch and called his name.

"Spencer" you were met with an annoyed groan as he flipped onto his other side.

"Spencer" you called again, louder, shoving his shoulder slightly. No response.

"Dr. Spencer Reid" you practically yelled right into his ear and you watched him jump this time, turning to face you again.

"I gave you a key for emergencies" you scolded, watching as he sat up and groggily rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

"I'm sorry" he sounded overly sincere "I didn't want to go home."

Then you realised that this wasn't just his regular habit of dropping in whenever he was bored, he needed comfort. You knew all to well the toll his job took on him, with everything that’s happened to him you were surprised he was able to hold up as well as he did.

“Oh Spencer” you half-whispered, sitting down on the couch right beside him, shoulder practically pressed against his. “Do you wanna talk about it?”.

“Not really, I just need to get my mind off everything” he sat up a bit straighter, facing you now.

You nodded in response.

“Is that new?” his gaze was suddenly fixated on your wrist as he reached down to your new watch.

“It is” you told him, lifting up your arm to show off the item adorned with a silver band.

“Did you get it in a pawn shop?” he seemed to be doing a pretty good job at distracting himself now, taking interest in random things like he always did.

“How did you know?” you laughed slightly, bringing your arm back down to your side.

“It’s Cartier” he explained “I know you wouldn’t be able to afford a new one, they range from four thousand to hundreds of thousands of dollars”.

“Wow” you feigned offence.

“I didn’t mean it like that, I just know you wouldn’t spend that kind of money, even when you treat yourself” he almost panickingly explained himself but you still felt a little proud at him knowing things about you. You hated spending a lot of money on yourself and you wanted to treat yourself, hence the new item in your collection.

“Did you know that Cartier was the first healer to use platinum in jewellery making? And they popularised the wristwatch in 1904, it’s really quite interesting”

“I didn’t, Reid” you joked. “Do you want some food? I got groceries yesterday so I could make you anything you want”.

“I’m okay” he sighed slightly “I’m just tired”

“You can sleep in my bed, no reason you should be hurting your back on the couch"

"No its okay, I don't want to put you out. I'm fine out here, really."

"I'm not going planning on going to bed for a while, at least go in there and get some rest, okay?"

He simply nodded his head and got up to go to your bedroom, calling out a goodnight as he approached the door.

You spent a few hours lounging about, mindlessly watching Friends reruns to procrastinate anything that actually needed to be done. Eventually though, the tiredness caught up to you and you decided to camp out on the couch for the night.

You cracked open your bedroom door and the small amount of light that flooded in from the hall presented Spencer completely out of it in your bed, his white shirt half unbuttoned and his trousers twisted around him while the rest of his clothes were piled on the floor beside him.

You smiled to yourself as you went to grab a spare pillow and blanket from your wardrobe, preparing to set yourself up on the couch for the night.

As you went to leave the room once again, you heard him sleepily call your name.

"Yeah?" you turned around to him again, seeing him adjust himself slightly.

“Do you want the your bed back?” He began to sit up, the rustling sound of the duvet filling the air.

“You can stay there, don’t worry about it” there was a silence then, you could tell he was about to say something, but he was struggling to get it to slip past his lips.

"Could you stay with me, please" he looked away bashfully "just for a bit”. You couldn’t see his face, but you knew he was giving you a puppy-dog look, eyes wide and lip practically quivering.

“Of course” you dumped everything that was in your hands onto the end of the bed and crawled up beside Spencer.

Without another word, you pressed yourself up right against him, grabbing his hand with yours and smoothing your thumb over the back of his hand. Just the few moments of silence with you sitting there had done Spencer some good, he had already felt himself calming down, and some of his recent anxieties melting away.

The quiet didn’t last long though before Spencer was saying your name again. “Can I tell you something?”

You turned your head to look at him, your eyes finally adjusting to the dark so you could see all of his emotions bleeding through his expressions. You nodded your head, humming slightly to urge him on.

“I really appreciate you, a lot” he hesitated slightly, searching for the words to use next.

“I appreciate you too Spence” you requited.

“No, I’m thankful for everything you do. You have always been there when I need you, you always know exactly what to say to me, you care about me. And I truly hope you can say the same about me”

“Of course I can”

“I need you in my life more than you could ever know” he continued “you’re the most important person to me in the whole world, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You looked at him, almost flabbergasted, not knowing what to say that would truly encapsulate how much you cared about him, how happy you were that he appreciated you.

“I like you” he paused “I love you, so much” his words were powerful, they rung in the air as they travelled towards your ears.

“Love?” you repeated, questioning his use of the word. You were no stranger to platonic love but his previous confessions had you questioning the intention of his last sentence.

“I love you, I want to be able to call you mine. I want to come home to you every day, to spend every minute I can with you, to have a future where you’re the centre of all my plans.”

You were practically stumped, the emotions you were feeling rendering your mouth useless.

“If you don’t feel the same way-“ he suddenly became incredibly panicked, spitting out as many words as he could to explain himself before you could cut him off.

“Spencer” you took a deep breathe “I love you too” it was a much shorter confession than his, but you didn’t need to say anything more to him, the confirmation was all he needed.

In the time it took you to blink, your faces were centimetres apart. And then his lips were on yours.

Your body felt like it lit up on that moment, the feeling of his lips on yours waking the butterflies in your stomach. You wasted no time tangling your fingers into his hair and lightly tugging at the roots as his hands slid around your waist, softly massaging your flesh.

It was gentle, his tongue softly slipping into your mouth as you let him do what he wanted, let him take the control.

The kiss was short though, as sleep had began to take over both of you. You mutually pulled away, silently agreeing to lie down, cuddling into one another.

With one more peck on the lips, you rested your head on his chest and closed your eyes.

There was plenty of time to talk it out, to figure out everything between each other, but for now all you needed was the feeling of one another pressed together and the feeling of mutual admiration.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x gn!reader #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencerreid #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fic

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nrdmssgs · 1 year ago

Text

Kissing König on the forehead

Masterlist Kissing Ghost on the forehead Kissing Price on the forehead

TW: mentions of social anxiety

His life consists of you. Literally: you have become the measure of everything. There are no more 'Fridays' or 'Novembers' - there are days, weeks and months, until he sees you again. No more rooms in his house - there is a wall to which he pressed his back, giving you more space to pass by, when he first saw you. There is a stove where you burned your fingers, making his heart ache when he saw your tears for the first time. There is a window, by which he fell on his knees and frantically stroked and kissed your hands, after he heard your timid confession. Anything beautiful he witnessed, anything meaningful he heard or read, made sense, only when he thought, how would he share it with you.

König knows, It's too much, his eagerness to be by your side constantly, his hunger for your touch, his feelings - he is too much. And he is afraid, so terribly and utterly afraid, that one day you see it too and leave him. So he restrains himself, tries to be less vocal, clasps his hands around his elbows to not hug you every minute, he is around. König carefully plans every conversation, you two will have, when he is back from deployment. Sometimes these imaginary chats end good, other times - you yell at him, but what is even worse - you cry. Your tears, even ones, he imagines pain him so badly - he immediately takes out his phone and texts you.

"I am so sorry, Schatz."

He snaps back to reality only when he gets your worried answer. Of course, you get scared and want to know, what happened. So he has to come up with some excuse.

"I am sorry for not being right now with you. I know, it's evening back at home, and you are probably watching some show, and I remember, how you like cuddling, while doing it. I'm sorry for not being there."

König finally puts the phone away, hissing at himself for this episode.

When he finally returns, you refuse to wait for him at home and come straight to the station. He allows himself to squeeze you in his arms, but deep inside his head, König counts. "One-two-three-four-five-it's time to let her go, you can't just stand there and embarrass her with your tenderness in front of everyone. You are becoming too much once again."

You interrupt his inner tirade. "Let's go home, love."

An entrance door shuts behind his back, and he finally takes a deep breath in, feeling the familiar scents of your shared house. König hears some strange repeating noise, lowers his eyes and notices that you are immersed in the fight with a jamming zipper on your jacket. On the very next moment, he kneels before you, moves your hands away from the zipper and tries to figure it out himself. It takes him a while, because he is afraid to pull too hard, finally destroying the jacket. You look at him warmly and laugh softly. "König don't worry, I can handle it."

At that moment, zipper finally breaks. König frowns.

"You couldn't just mind your business, you idiot? Now she is going to finally see, how overwhelming you are, how you break everything, you care for, how you smother those, who you love. Is that what you wanted?" An angry voice inside his head shouts and silences everything around, including König himself. He doesn't feel his lips starting to tremble, forming some apologetic mumbling. He doesn't hear, when you try to reassure him.

So you take a quick step forward, and embrace him, pressing your lips against his forehead. Maybe that angry voice exists only in his head, but it's not the first time, you witness König tearing himself apart for no reason.

"You are overthinking again, love. But its going to be ok, I promise." Another kiss on his forehead.

"You are not overwhelming to be with, you are not annoying. No." By this time, you know all the terrifying things König's mind whispers and shouts to itself.

"No one is going to get tired and leave you. Especially not me." You kiss his closed eyes, not caring for remains of dark camouflage paint on his skin.

"You are overthinking, and it is ok, because it shows, that you really care. It's not your fault." You press your lips against his face, so that he not only hears, but also feels, what you are saying.

And that silents Königs anxiety and self-doubt. He suddenly feels tired, but endlessly loved. He finally comes back home, pulling you into a long and tight embrace, not counting seconds this time.

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whisperofwonder · 3 months ago

Text

Kageyama painting your nails. Send tweet.

"What are you doing?"

You hadn't even heard your boyfriend come into the room, and you jump at the sound of Tobio's voice behind your shoulder. The tiny nail polish brush jerks in your fingers, and you groan at the streak of nail polish spilling past the edge of your nail.

"Painting my nails," You mutter, putting the brush back in the bottle with a sigh.

"You keep making noises," He supplies unhelpfully. "It sounds like you're struggling in here."

"I am." You look dismally down at your hand, with two of the nails sloppily polished and the rest still bare. "Painting my dominant hand is impossible."

He hums in response, settling into the chair next to you. He watches silently for a few moments as you reach for the brush again, hovering hesitantly over your hand. You aren't sure if his presence provides moral support, or just makes you more nervous. It's such a silly thing to be so terrible at.

"I could try," He finally says when you reach for the tissue to clean up your latest attempt.

"Really?" You look up at him in surprise.

"Why not?" He shrugs. "Seems like it would be easier, since I can actually use both of my hands. I can give it a shot, at least."

"Well then-" You slide the bottle across the table towards him, "Be my guest." You can't help but smile at the sight of your tall, muscular, setter boyfriend taking the dainty brush between his pointer finger and thumb. It looks almost comically small in his hand.

He takes your hand in a firm grip, his fingers gently keeping yours still. You can feel the familiar calluses against your skin. Hesitantly at first, he swipes the polish across your nail. His brow is slightly furrowed, the most adorable look of concentration on his face. You're slightly mesmerized by his movements, watching the precise application of the polish as he grows more confident. In what feels like no time, every nail on your hand is painted, and he looks up at you.

"Did I do okay?" He asks earnestly, the question only making your smile widen.

"You did great," You say honestly, lifting your hand to admire his handiwork more closely. It's perfect, of course. You should have known that those deft, talented fingers of his could handle painting your nails without a problem. "Thank you," You add, leaning forward to press a quick peck to his lips.

"Do you want me to do the other one?" He gestures to your other hand.

"Do you mind?" You ask sheepishly. You can't imagine that this is how he'd planned to spend his evening.

"No," He pauses. "I kind of like it. It gives me a reason to hold your hand."

You swat at him with the un-painted hand. "You don't need a reason to hold my hand!" You laugh. "It's yours to hold whenever you want."

He dips his head adorably, reaching for the bottle of nail polish again. "Still," He says with a shrug and a quirk of his lips, reaching for your other hand without another word.

Later that night, cuddled up in bed, you admire the completed set in the soft lamplight. "This is way better than I could have done," You admit, "I'm almost jealous. Do you have to be good at everything?"

"I'm not," He says matter-of-factly, taking your hand in his and scrutinizing the work he'd done. After a few moments, he closes his fingers around yours and lifts your hand to his lips, brushing a kiss to your knuckles. "I had nice hands to work with," He murmurs.

You can only shake your head. He so often has very little to say, but every once in a while he comes out with things like this, and you're never quite sure how to respond. You settle on a quiet "Thank you," cupping his cheek in your hand. You admire the color of your nail polish against his skin for a few moments before he presses closer, kissing you sweetly, the press of his lips on yours as firm and gentle as the press of his fingers.

#Haikyuu #Haikyuu x reader #Haikyuu x you #Kageyama Tobio #Kageyama Tobio x reader #Kageyama x reader #moon writes

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keerysfreckles · 3 months ago

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lacy, oh lacy — LS2

pairing: logan sargeant x reader (no pronouns used)

summary: when logan needs more comforting than ever, he knows you'll be there.

warnings: sad logan, short fic, not proofread

a/n: james vowles. count your days.

masterlist !

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

when you got the text your heart broke.

'i'm not in williams anymore.'

when you got the call your heart broke even more.

his pained cracking voice sends a wave of hurt through your body. you never moved so fast to get out of your job, just telling your boss you needed to leave right now. you could've sworn you sped the whole way home but you didn't care. you needes to get to logan.

you kept the call going the whole way home, just letting him get anything he needed to off his chest. your heart clenched every time his voice broke or trailed off, or when you heard his muffled sniffling as he tried to hide it the best he could.

you promised him you were almost home, and told him you'd be there in five minutes. however as you were about to get closer to the small grocery store by your shared apartment, you had an idea.

you walked briskly down the aisles, knowing exactly what you needed to get.

you opened the third freezer door and grabbed a carton of chocolate chip ice cream. in the past if logan happened to he upset for any reason, this seemed to always brighten his mood. you only hoped the ice cream would work today.

while walking towards your apartment door and fumbling with your keys, you worry if logan's mood has gotten worse since you ended the call. you're quick with unlocking the door.

"logan?" no response.

you take off your shoes and coat by the front door, then proceed down the hallway to your bedroom. you bring the shopping bag with you, the cold ice cream hitting your leg with each step.

you can't think your heart could break more, until you see logan. he's in bed, staring at something on his phone with red puffy eyes and a matching red nose.

you silently walk over to him, leaving the ice cream at the edge of the bed. you hug him sideways, and he immediately leans into your embrace. at your contact his eyes start to water again. his body shakes as the minutes pass, only making you want to hold him impossibly closer.

your countless kisses placed on top of head don't seem to be calming him down.

this is when you look at his discared phone in his lap. it's the email sent from williams about his release.

"you know looking at the email won't change anything lo?" you question softly, continuing to run your fingers through his hair.

you feel him nod, "i just don't know what else to do," his voice cracks once more.

you begin to let go of him, but his hands tighten around you. "don't leave, please."

you kiss his head again, "i'm only going to change, then we can cuddle as much as you want. plus i got you ice cream."

he looks up at you for the first time today. his bloodshot eyes make you yourself want to cry. "chocolate chip?"

"of course," you smile before kissing him gently on the lips.

after you change out of your work clothes as quickly as possible, you grab two spoons so you and logan can enjoy the ice cream.

you begin to smile once you walk back into the bedroom. logan placed his phone down on the nightstand, and had cars queued on the tv across from the bed.

you sat next to him before placing the blanket over the both of you. you turned towards him, letting him lean into you again. youe legs ended up tangling together under the blanket as you got comfortable. the ice cream was in between you, providing both of you with a sense of familiarity and comfort.

"i love you," logan looks at you, before a small smile spreads over his features.

"i love you more, and i'm nothing but proud of you," you lean forward to kiss him, "i'll always be here for you."

#shelbi writes #keerysfreckles #logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant f1 #logan sargeant x you #logan sargeant x fem!reader #logan sargeant x male!reader #logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant fic #f1 #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader

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all-purpose-dish-soap · 6 months ago

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32 / 1.4k / soap soulmate au, part 9

...

Soap goes still and quiet, his grip loosening. "People?"

"Human trafficking."

"How do you know?"

"Because security is quadrupled in the basement lounge. The client and his inner circle are scheduled to move downstairs after midnight. They're calling it an afterparty."

"You're sure it's not drugs?"

"I'm sure. I saw the dossier given to security downstairs."

Soap's mouth twists. The target sure as hell isn't leaving this place alive if he can help it. “Could’ve mentioned that earlier."

“I tried. Who do you think tipped Laswell off?"

That gives Soap pause. "Laswell? You’ve been in touch with her?"

"Once." You curl your fingers tighter into his vest and grab his chin to make him look at you. "Johnny, listen. If you kill him now, everything locks down. You won't be able to get into the basement. You need to get down there quietly with the element of surprise."

"What have you got in mind? Covert extraction, no prep, no briefing?" He raises one hand as if to cover yours, to trace along your knuckles. After so long, he can’t help it. He just wants to touch you. "That's a lot to ask. What was your plan if we didn’t show? Go it alone?"

"Figure it out as I go along, I guess."

"Christ, you're a headache." Soap's hand tightens around yours, gently pulling it off his collar to bring your hand up to his cheek. He turns up your palm and presses a kiss to the inside of your wrist. You're on his side this time. He can't put into words how light it makes him feel.

He makes a low sound in his throat before he pulls back again. He clicks on his radio. "Captain, LT, you'll want to hear this."

While Soap explains the situation on his team's comms, you put yourself back together, checking your rifle and your gear. He watches you the whole time. You’re not what he remembers—not the cornered animal he met in that interrogation room before. You're in your element. If he could, he’d drag you away, take you back to some safehouse somewhere, and focus on getting to know you in every way and every position he knows. Patience, he tells himself. After this mission, he'll have all the time in the world.

After the brief conference--and Laswell confirming she’d received an anonymous, cryptic tip about stolen goods in the target’s favorite Swiss Alps resort--he turns back to you. "Price wants the target no matter what. We're pullin' back to regroup and plan our strategy."

Your stomach drops. "What? There's no time."

"You said it yourself: we have no intel, no time to prep, and no good way in. Civilians everywhere. If it goes tits up, people die." He grabs your hand and pulls you into the hall, heading for the stairwell. "We're fallin’ back and regrouping while we still can."

You jerk your hand out of his, stumbling back. "We have intel. I was briefed on this mission. I can get downstairs,” you argue.

You mean alone. Soap doesn't like that. "Not happening,” he snaps, his voice rough with frustration. He glares down at you, a muscle in his jaw jumping as he clenches his teeth. “I know you can more than handle yourself, but not against a hundred of these bastards."

"Those bastards are my coworkers," you retort. "They won't look twice at me."

That's the worst part. Your familiarity with this place makes you an undeniable asset for this mission—that’s why he sought you out. The reason that’ll be in the official report, anyway. Damn it. He's torn between the knowledge that he should be happy you’re willing to help his team out and his desire to throw you over his shoulder and carry you out of the building.

"You said yourself security's quadrupled down there. If it goes loud, you're done. I'm not lettin’ you play hero. No. Ain't happenin'."

“Then we find a different plan,” you argue. You've never met someone so hard-headed.

"She might have a point," Gaz's voice says in Soap’s earpiece. "If we find a way to bring security up to the ground floor instead, you and Ghost can get down there and find the hostages. Security's already jumpy with the power out--give them a reason to come upstairs and they will. It’s just a matter of finding a distraction. And we've got snipers posted. Distractions are easy."

Hearing Gaz, you nod. “I'll take the target and lead him into view for your snipers.”

Soap curses under his breath, running a hand over his mohawk. He wishes he’d turned his radio off. He doesn't like putting you at risk.

You huff and sling your rifle over your back. Time is slipping away. "I need to find the target. I'll wait for your signal and--"

Soap grabs your arm before you can walk past him. "Jesus, stop. Give me a minute to think."

"We don't have--"

"Time, I ken." Soap's grip tightens. He tugs you against him again, one hand going to the back of your neck to hold you in place. "You're not goin'. Not without me."

"That's ridiculous!" Your voice climbs despite the way he forces you closer--folds his arm around your lower back and pulls you chest-to-chest. "They’ll see you. And they’re not just going to arrest you, okay—they’ll kill you."

Soap’s expression tightens. "How do I know you won't abscond with the target? Wouldn’t be the first time you left us high and dry."

You close your mouth and stare at him. He’s worried you’ll betray him. Your gaze falls to his chest, silent, because it wouldn't be the first time.

At the look on your face, Soap’s chest feels like it’s caving in. But he keeps going before he loses his nerve. He doesn't care if it's selfish. "You disappeared. No word. No message. Not even a thank you. I'm not lettin' that happen a second time. One wrong move and I'm pullin' you out."

He lets go of you, unhooks the collar radio from around his neck, and puts it around yours instead. "Tell my team when and where you have the target in place. They'll take care of the rest."

You put the earpiece in place and adjust the bit around your neck. "Fine."

He stands still, arms crossed, as you adjust your gear one more time. Your nerves are shot.

You glance at him, an apology stuck in your throat. "I was going to contact you, I just..."

"Just what? Had more important things going on? Assholes to protect?" he snaps. He stalks closer, towering over you again. The frustration flashing through his eyes eclipses the sudden, haunted look of a man who hasn't slept well in weeks.

You press your hand to the armor on his chest and lower your voice. "I get it if you don't trust me. Just... trust that I want your target dead as much as you do."

"Promise me you won't disappear on me again."

You bite the inside of your lip and put your hand on his cheek. Something in your chest twinges when he leans into it. "I promise," you lie.

"Good." He closes his eyes and lowers his forehead to yours. He breathes deeply, committing your touch to memory.

Then he opens his eyes and angles your jaw up toward his, his mouth slanting over yours in a hard, possessive kiss that empties your brain completely. When he pulls away, his eyes glimmer.

"You’d better stand by that promise, darlin’,” he says, voice low and dangerous. “I let you go in Las Almas because you didn’t want my protection yet. Could’ve taken you with me whether you liked it or not, but I couldn’t stand the thought of you hatin’ me. Even if it meant keepin’ you safe.” The cool leather on his knuckles brushes tenderly against your neck. "But those reservations aren’t holdin’ me back anymore. I will do what needs to be done if you play games with me. You understand?"

You stare at him, heart thumping strangely. "I don't think that's... necessary."

“I hope it’s not.” He cups your jaw in his hands and brings your lips to his again. The kiss this time is gentler, softer—just a slow, intimate press that melts you completely. You’re breathless by the time he lifts his head. "When this is over, you're mine."

You nod weakly, not trusting yourself to speak.

...

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / [part 9] / part 10 / part 11 / part 12

more Soap / masterlist tag

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catcze · 11 months ago

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While you were both dancing around... whatever kind of relationship you have, you had become intimately familiar with the fact that Wriothesley loved to call you terms of endearment. From anyone else, you'd gag and cringe at the cheesiness of the pet names, but somehow Wriothesley just made them work. Even some of the most cliche ones ever— My Heart. Love. Amour.

You had just been getting used to it, had just been getting used to fighting down the unbidden curl of your lips whenever he calls you by these names, when he decided to change things up a little.

"Hey, mon cœur, come take a look at this for a sec," Wriothesley says easily, barely even looking up from the newspaper in his hand. You, however, stop in your tracks.

Mon cœur. My love. Mine.

You're not entirely sure when Wriothesley started adding 'my' to the beginning of each of his cheesy little pet names, but you can't deny that every time you hear it, it sends you into a flustered little tizzy. You try to beat back the flutter of the butterflies in your stomach, try to fight down the heat that finds itself at your neck and the tips of your ears. Goodness, you have to will yourself not to hide your face in your hands, if only because that would make your predicament that much more obvious to him.

You nearly jump out of your skin when the very object of your embarrassment stands before you, his hand light on your shoulder. His brows are furrowed in concern, the back of his hand already raised to your forehead in a soft touch as if to check for a fever.

"Are you alright?" he asks, other arm holding you steady. You need the support, but not for the reasons he might think.

“Yeah— yeah,” you say, trying to shake yourself out of it. Trying to banish the thought of him calling you my love for the sake of your own sanity. “Yeah, I’m fine, no need to worry.”

“You sure? You’ve been kind of out of it recently.”

You gulp, gaze unsubtly trying to drift away. For a second you debate between being honest and merely shelving the topic for another time, but... something about his concern makes you want to dissuade his worries, even at the cost of your own pride.

Painstakingly, you try to clear your throat. “Yeah, I just…the… the pet names, they…”

Wriothesley raises a brow, blinking for just a second before a smug, pleased little grin finds its way onto his lips. “Oh? You mean, the little additions I added to them?” And when you only nod once, unable to look him in the eye despite how physically close you both are, his grin widens.

For the sake of your dignity, your racing heart and the steady heat crawling up your face, you wish that he’d give the teasing a break, but instead Wriothesley comes closer half a step, wraps both arms around you and leans down close enough that you can see the way the blue in his eyes shifts with the light.

“Does it get you all flustered when I call you mine, mon cœur?” He practically purrs, just to prove a point. It makes you swallow heavily, makes you want to smack him out of sheer embarrassment.

You do, in fact, try to slap him on the chest but he just laughs like it was nothing— curse him and his muscles.

But he manages to catch your hand by the wrist before you can draw it back, placing a sweet kiss on the back of your hand, and you come undone.

He holds your hand tenderly, his arm still wrapped around you, keeping you cradled against his chest

"You know," Wriothesley admits softly, leaning close and keeping his voice low, like it's a secret he wants to share only with you. His smile is boyish. Cute. Filled to the brim with affection and honey. "I'm actually really happy that you like it, because I really like thinking that I'm yours, too."

[ #Taglist registration here !! ]

#「 🐈‍⬛ 」 catcze.desserts #astronetwrk #genshin impact x reader #wriothesley x reader #cw gn reader #genshin impact #wriothesley

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whxrecruxxes · 7 months ago

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JEALOUS- op81

pairing- oscar piastri x fem!reader warnings- smut (wrap it before you tap it folks), jealous oscar, naive reader, filthy mouth (and i mean really filthy), touchy oscar (pls lemme know if i missed any 🙏🏻) lowk the rest of the grid r kinda icky, but its for the plot and i love all of them summary- after a race, you and oscar go out with his fellow grid drivers for dinner and a drink. but it all seems to go sideways when you seem to attract unwanted attention... word count- 3.854 k THIS WAS NOT PROOFREAD !!! pls lmk if you find any mistakes- and my requests are open !!

a/n-- this is my first post on tumblr y'all pls be nice and lmk how i can make this better 😽 smut under the cut !

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · keep reading !! · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

You wipe a smidge of lipgloss off of the corner of your lips, smacking them together as you lean over the desk to reach the mirror. Your dress is sticking to every curve in your body, and from the look Oscar seems to be staring at you with- he doesn't seem very pleased with having accepted Lando's proposal. He walks over to you, splaying his hands on your hips as you continue to adjust your lipgloss. It had been a long day, your cheeks perfectly pinched with the sun. You must've been outside, pacing, for his entire race, listening in to the team radio intently. Nothing wrecked you more than watching him get in that car. It made your stomach grow tight and it made a familiar strained feeling settle in your throat. But of course, he had made it up to the top and won the sprint- and the look on your face when he greeted you would grace his dreams each night.

"Baby.." The tall boy grumbles behind you, pressing a warm kiss to your exposed shoulder blade. "Do we have to go ?" He mutters, running his hands over your sides, feeling for that familiar dip in your hips he knew his hands would fit in perfectly. You flip around to face him, pouting softly.

"We have to, Osc. You told Lando we would join him and the others, it would be rude to bail." You scold, earning an annoyed grumble from your boyfriend.

"But I would much rather stay here and cuddle with you. I'm still sore." He mumbles as he drags you in, his lips finding your forehead softly. He feels your forehead crinkle in worry as he mentions the soreness in his muscles. You pull away from him, hesitating to even rest your hand on his bicep. The last thing you would want to do is hurt him. But when a malicious grin settles on his lips, you roll your eyes and grip his bicep, leading him to the door.

"C'mon, grumpy. We have a dinner to get to." You say as you lean down to slip your heels unto your feet as he stands behind you, hands on your hips to keep you upright. When you two finally stumble out of the door, Oscar leads you downstairs, complaining once more as he opens up the door to his car for you to slip in.

"I really don't wanna go." He mutters, slipping in to the seat beside you. You grab his hand, plopping it down in your lap as you gave his hand a hearty squeeze.

"We can stay for an hour, and then we can leave. I swear, Osc. But you made a promise- The least you could do is show your face." You reprimand, making him roll his eyes. He knows you're right- not that he'd ever say it out loud. You'd rub it into his face for all of eternity. His hand lays comfortably against your thigh for the entire drive, relishing in the feel of your soft, velvety skin and the slight ruffle of the chiffony satin material of the dress you decided to wear. It had thin spagetti straps and and slight plunging neckline. Slight because it didn't show much- but if you leaned forward, your breasts would basically strain against the material. You hadn't noticed- Not even when you got to the restaurant and every one got up to suddenly hug you for some reason. Or when you slightly leaned forward to lend your ear to Carlos as he spoke softly over the speakers. Not even when Lando's eyes followed the chain of your necklace down to the charm that laid nestled in between your breasts or when Charles cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair, clearly uncomfortable in the way he was sitting. The hour you had promised turned into two, and Oscar can feel his patience slipping.

He is known for showing you off- parading you around the paddock-showing the world just how perfect his girl is. But seeing you innocently bat your eyelashes, not noticing how his team-mate and all his friends were ogling at your breasts was making him angrier than he'd like to admit. His hand gives your thigh a slight squeeze, and you lean back in your chair to lend him your ear. He almost reaches over and punches Carlos when his face falls in disappointment. He hopes his squeeze will let you know, warn you that you're walking on a thin line.

"You okay, Osc ?" You ask, his grip on your thigh creeping up higher. The innocence and genuine confusion in your tone strikes him hard. You have no idea what's happening.

" 'M fine." He claims, letting you get back to your conversation. He would hate to upset you over his jealousy, but you being clueless to it definitely made it worse.

"No, but I completely agree ! You definitely deserve a championship win, Charles, I mean you've put in the effort! " You continue, speaking eagerly. "Just like how it's completely unfair Lando hasn't won a grand-prix !" You turn to Oscar, smiling. "Right, baby ?" He nods, smiling softly at you as his hand clenches around your thigh again. You frown at the gesture. Clearly something is bothering him, something he won't tell you.

He hates the way Lando makes you blush, or the way you shove your hand in Charles's shoulder as he makes a dumb joke. All the while, Oscar can feel the frustration in him grow. He couldn't believe you had no idea what was happening- because in your head, this is just you bonding with your boyfriend's friends, who had previously just been overly sweet and friendly- but they are really acting how you see them act around Oscar, and you secretly feel glad that they are comfortable enough to be themselves around you. Not to mention that they've been paying for your win refills all evening. The bustling sound of people speaking and enjoying their meals helps a little with distracting him from the fact that your dress is riding deliciously up your thighs, or how he can easily dig his fingers into the soft skin of your inner thigh. But it's not helping the fact that Charles has also noticed your dress riding up, and its subtly trying to crane his neck to catch a glimpse of your soft skin.

Two hours turn into an entire dinner, and Oscar could not be angrier. The second the rest of the table get to their feet to move to a club for drinks, Oscar's hands settle protectively on your waist.

"Oh look at the time. We have got to go, darling." he says, smiling softly as you look up at him, cheeks red with the amount of wine you've managed to drink. You pout like a child, his heart melting.

"Noooo ! One more drink, Osc. Please." You beg, jumping up and down slightly as you face him. He swallows sharply, trying to ignore the tightness growing in his pants as he watches you tits bounce. He shakes his head, softly smiling at you.

"No, love. You've had enough- Let's get you home, yeah ?" He says, his voice dipping.

"Oh come on, Osc. Celebrate with us, you've been uptight all evening!" Lando protests. George- who was on the far end of the table- drunkenly slumps against the young Aussie.

"Yeah, come on, Osc ! Have a drink, live a little." He's about to agree, but then he glances down at you, the way your head is resting on his shoulder, your cheeks peachy and your eyes half open- a fucked out look on your face. He gulps and shakes his head.

"Maybe some other time. I should get her home." He leads you out of there, your tipsyness rendering you extremely clumsy. You giggle as he guides you to his car, ignoring how the people around you start to stare- at your body, at your dress. He softly pushes you into the passenger seat, closing the door behind you before he walks around the car to settle into the driver's seat. He puts the car into drive and doesn't say another word. Deep inside the pit of your stomach, you can tell something is wrong. He isn't speaking to you, looking at you or even touching you. Both of his hands are clamped around the steering wheel as an angry look passes over his eyes. You gulp heavily as he pulls into your shared apartment. Despite being angry, he still walks over to open your door for you, but not hesitating to slam it behind you.

In his head, you did this on purpose- to rile him up after what was one of the best race weekends he's had in a while. Flirting with his friends and team-mate ? He was fuming, just thinking of them looking at you like they did at that dinner. You stop midway towards the front door, whimpering as your ankles ache. He turns to face you, worried as you slump against the wall as you slip your heels off. You frown as he doesn't budge, not even daring to help. Usually he would. You hate how quickly you've sobered up at noticing the sudden change in your sweet boyfriend's behaviour.

"Oscar ?" You call after him as he storms into the apartment, leaving the door ajar for you to follow. You walk in, heels dangling at your side as you close the door behind you. You can hear him moving in the bedroom. You drop your heels near the door and pad your way over, your stomach twisting painfully. Oscar doesn't get angry- not at you. And if he did, he would tell you, not shut you out. You push open the door to you room, seeing him start to get ready for bed, slipping his clothes off and reaching for his night clothes.

"Osc." You say again, and his back muscles strain, his body going stiff at your voice. He stands up straight, his hair a disheveled mess, standing there in only his boxers. "Did i do something wrong ?" You ask, your voice tentative. He turns to face you, clearly angry, but his face drops when he sees the look on your face. You're standing there, looking like you've been cornered, and you cast your glance down. You have no idea what you did wrong- He can read it all over your face.

"Did you really not see that ? They way they looked at you in that fucking dress ?" He asks, his voice rough but still apprehensive to your clueless state. You shake your head, and he huffs out a heavy breath and walks past you to go to the bathroom, shaking his head. You gulp as you walk over to the mirror, your hands shaky as you grab a cotton wad to remove your makeup, leaning over the desk to peer into the mirror- like you did earlier that evening. Your eyes are closed as you rub out your mascara. He sits down on the bed behind you, and you look up at him through the mirror.

"I'm sorry, Osc. I didn't mean to upset you, I swear." Your voice cracks, and you feel stupid to be this upset. But the way he's not even looking at you makes your heart shatter. This silent treatment makes you sick, and you slide a cotton pad over your face, eyes fluttering closed. You feel a pair of strong hands settle on your waist and your eyes snap open. Oscar stands behind you, and angry look on his face. But he's not angry at you- he's angry at something else.

"You mean to tell me, you really didn't see how Lando was staring at your tits that whole dinner ? How he looked like he wanted to devour you on that table ? Or how Charles was staring at how your dress was riding up your thighs, or how Carlos kept on making you lean in to get a better view ?" Oscar's breath is warm on your ear, and you pull your bottom lip between your teeth as you shake your head. His hand snakes up our stomach, his fingers finding the edge of the plunging neckline of your dress. "You didn't notice how you were basically flashing all three of them when you leaned in ? Huh ?" He asks, desperate to get an answer out of you. You shake your head again.

"I-I didn't know." You whisper , hands gripping the wood of the table. His hand snakes down between your thighs, the hand still resting on your waist working to bunch up your dress all while keeping you comfortably pressed against him. His hand grazes your inner thigh, chuckling as goosebumps raise on your skin. His thumb presses against your clothed clit, making your body jerk forward in surprise, and strained whimper leaving your lips.

"You're mine. You get that ? Tell me you didn't wear this dress for them." He says, his thumb relentless against you.

"I didn't. I swear, Osc. I wore it f'you. Wanted to celebrate with you." You beg, whimpering. His thumb leaves your clothed core, resting in the bend of your thigh, toying with the lace of your panties. You can feel him against your thigh, so unbelievably hard.

"Do i need to remind you who you belong to ?" he says, this time his finger slipping past your panties to run it over your folds. he lets out an appreciative grunt. "Fuck, you're so wet f'me. None of them would ever be able to make you feel this good, huh baby ?" He says, pushing your for answer. You just shake your head, desperate for him to do something. Oscar wasn't the jealous type, sure he was offended when people flirted with you- but most times you shut it down before it even started. You felt ashamed that you hadn't noticed how shamelessly the others were acting around you. His finger slips past your folds, entering your tight cunt in a swift movement, your walls fluttering around him in shock. He groans at the feeling, slipping in another finger without warning. Your hand flies down to grab his hand, whimpering as he pumps his two thick digits within you.

"You're my girl. Only i can touch you like this, only i can make you feel like this. " His lips find your neck as he stands you up, back pressed to his muscular chest as he nibbles on your neck, all while walking backwards to sit down on the bed. He plops you down on his lap, strong hand keeping your thighs parted, and slapping your inner thigh sharply whenever you try to squeeze them around his wrist.

"Shh, baby. Gotta get you stretched out f'me. Gotta remind you how good I fuck you." He whispers, hand speeding up as he slips your spagetti straps over your shoulders, tugging the front of your dress down to wrap a large hand around your tits, his thumb toying with the peaks of your nipples, pinching them as you squirm in his grasp, nails digging into his thighs. Your head is thrown back on his shoulder, loud, desperate whimpers leaving your lips as you rock your hips into his hand, your ass rubbing against his hard cock, pressed against you.

"Please, Osc." You beg, making him smile.

"Please, what, baby ? Use your words, pretty girl." He edges, his hand slowly down drastically and making you whimper. You likc your lips, your vocal chords giving up on you when all that bubbles up is a desperate moan. Your hand reaches back and grabs a hold of his erection through his boxers, your eyes opening to look at him.

"Please, Osc, I need you." You whimper, squeezing your walls around his fingers to give him the right idea. His eyes almost pop out of his skull when he feels you cunt clench around him, and he practically throws you back on the bed.

"Take it off." He gestures to your dress, clearly unhappy to see it on you. Not after it had given his friends a view all evening. You slide the dress off, tossing it off somewhere in the room. Your slick has soaked your underwear, covering your thighs, and Oscar almost drools of the sight of it. He grabs your thighs as he crawls up to you, sliding the flimsy material down your thighs, his lips finding your stomach. He presses a sharp kiss to your clit, before his tongue sinks inside of you, making your back arch as your hands fly to tangle themselves in his hair, tugging as his nose bumps against your clit deliciously, eliciting a moan out of your lips. Your heels are digging into the mattress, your hands flying from his hair to the satin sheets, tugging onto it, your core aching for a release as your stomach burns with pleasure.

"Oh god, fuck, Osc- please, please, please, god, please !" You whimper, making him smile against your core, pressing a soft kiss to your clit and kissing his way back up to the valley of your breasts, freeing his cock from his boxers. Your eyes go wide as you stare down at him, his large hand pumping himself, pre-cum beading at his red, swollen tip, his teeth grazing your nipple. You're practically rutting against him, gripping his shoulders, cupping his cheeks. You tip his head up and latch your lips to his, his tongue pushing apart your lips and running it over the roof of your mouth, his hand coming to wrap softly around your neck as he pushes a pillow underneath your hips, his hand darting back down to pump himself some more. He pulls away from you, dropping his head into the crook of your neck, pressing sloppy, open mouthed kisses on your collarbone. He pulls away gently and grabs you by the waist, sniffing softly and kissing your temple. He gently guides his long, throbbing cock to your folds and nudges his tip in. Your walls clench at the feelings, your hands clenching his shoulders as you throw your head back, tears pricking at your eyes. The stretch was always a feeling you welcomed, and the way he talked you through it's always made you go crazy.

"Ah, fuck, you're so tight baby. So fucking good f'me." He mutters, his hands bruising on your waist. He pushes in a little more, and you whimper. Your chest is caving and raising furiously fast, and Oscar almost comes then and there when your walls flutter around him again. "Fuck baby, I need more." He coos, his lips grazing your cheek and nose. You nod, and he bottoms out, moaning as you clench around him and pull him in, your thighs wrapping around his waist as you whimper.

"Ah- fuck !" You cry out, a rogue tear slipping out of your eye, but he kisses it away before it can slide further than your cheek.

"You feel so good, baby. So fucking good." He breathes out, his hand gripping your hip so tight you know it'll leave bruises in the morning. He starts to move, his hips rolling against yours, his pace teasingly slow, his hips snapping inside of you, hitting that sot mushy center of nerves deep inside of you with each thrusts.

"I'm the only one who can fuck you this good huh ?" You nod as his hips pick up the pace, your heels pushing at his lower back to bury him deeper within you. His teeth graze over you breasts, a whimpering moan bubbling out of your throat. His hips are pounding into you, your body shaking as you feel your orgasm bubble up into you stomach, the band inside of you stretching.

"Answer me. You think any of those guys could make you feel any better ? Huh ? Or am i the only one who can fuck this pussy good ?" You moan at his words, feeling your body teeter close to the edge as you nod, biting your bottom lip.

"Say it, baby. Say it." He licks his lips, relishing on still being able to taste your juices on his lips, his cock twitching inside you. You try to speak, but all that comes out is a strained moan.

"Y-You're the only one, Osc, the only one- Fuck, fuck, fuck, god, Oscar, i'm so close- please, please !" You cry out as the orgasm topples over you, your thighs shaking as he grabs them and spreads them apart, pushing the down and pushing himself in so deep you can see the outline of him deep within your stomach. Your eyes are rolling back, your thighs shaking as he pins them down, his hair covered in sweat, sticking to his forehead as he groans loudly.

"Fuck, baby. So good- so fucking tight, so fucking wet for me. Can you give me another one ?" He moans, his lips latching around your neck. You whimper, shaking your head, the overstimulation already becoming too much to bear.

"N-No, i can't-"

"C'mon baby. You got this, angel." He encourages, his thumb reaching down to press on your clit as you feel his hips start to stutter and falter, his eyes fluttering closed.

"Ah- Fuck, fuck, that's it baby, that's it. Come f'me." He says, clearly prioritising your pleasure over his, his cock twitching and throbbing within you. With a swipe of his thumb over your clit, you come gushing over him once more, his arms giving out as he cries out a strangled cry of your name and slumps down on top of you, cock twitching inside of you as he empties himself inside of you, his warm juices coating your insides. His sweaty body clings to yours, his muscles flexing as you run your hands above them, your thighs shaking. He pulls away from you, groaning as he slips out of you, your cunt clenching around air as he leaves you. His eyes fill with worry as he slips his boxers back on. You lay there, dazed, your body trembling. He rushes into the bathroom and emerges seconds later with a warm, damp towel and grabs a fresh pair of underwear and one of his old shirts. Your body is covered in bite marks and love bruises, and your thighs are red and stinging at the amount of time he had to slap them open and pin them down. He crawls back up to your eyeline, gently running the towel over your thighs and wiping you clean. You whimper sharply and grab his wrist, tears springing to your eyes as he kisses your cheek and softly reassure you.

"I'm sorry baby. I shouldn't have gone so hard." He mumbles, softly wiping away the juices coating and slipping out of your folds. You shake your head, whining when his hand softly pushes back your thigh to fully clean everything up. When he's done, he tosses the towel off somewhere in the distance, softly and gently sitting you up and slipping his body under yours, letting you slump against him. He slides the new, clean underwear up your thighs.

"It's okay, Osc. I know you would never hurt me. Not purposely." You sigh as he pushes you up, and slips the shirt over your chest. He drops you back down, and you rest against his chest, sighing as his fingers draw lazing circles on your stomach, his hand splayed fat on your abdomen underneath the shirt. His lips find that spot behind your ear and he kisses it.

"I'm sorry if i upset you, Osc." You whisper, your voice small. he shakes his head.

"I could never be angry at you. I was angry at them. Getting you tipsy and taking advantage of you because you were just trying to be nice." He says, breathing out silently. He kisses your forehead, and after a beat of silence he speaks again.

"Can you promise me something, baby ?" You nod, yawning as you settle against his chest comfortably, ready to fall asleep.

"Hm ?" His fingers are calloused yet rough against your sweat laden skin.

"Next time we go out to dinner with the others.. Don't wear that dress again." You chuckle, looking up at him. You kiss his jaw softly, making him look down at you and smile.

"Eh.. if it gets you to react like this .. I might wear it everyday." His free hand settles on your jaw, keeping you from looking away, gazing softly into your eyes.

"Baby, you wear that dress again, i will kill anyone who looks at you." He says. Your heart stutters and you gulp heavily.

"Okay. I promise." He smiles and kisses you, his lips bruising.

"Good girl."

#oscar piastri #formula 1 #mclaren f1 #smut #f1 one shot #formula one imagine #formula one x y/n #formula one x reader #formula one #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x y/n

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wonderlandwalker · 7 months ago

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Shining Bright | James Potter x Reader

Marauders Masterlist / Inbox

Summary: You and James reunite after the winter holiday, reminiscing old memories and stumbling into new ones. Except Sirius doesn't know you're dating yet, and James is not particularly good at hiding it anymore.

Content Warnings/Tags: Smut, fluff, angst kinda idk, Reader is Sirius' sister (how do I even tag that), 18+, hinting at abuse, simping, traumatizing bystanders, not proofread just go with it, no use of y/n, ignore any plotholes

Word Count: 4.0k

A/n: I listened to the hazbin hotel soundtrack on repeat while writing and I'm praying it doesn't show. This was gonna make this longer but then I got impatient so lemme know if you'd like more. Not kidding when I say it's not proofread this came straight out of my notes so sorry for any mistakes, will come back later to fix them xx

The black family siblings were all as bright as the stars they were named after, James knew this for a fact. Sirius was the brightest star in the night sky, scorching others with his light in a way you couldn't look away from even if you wanted to. Regulus, not as blinding as his brother, but shining in his own right amongst those who took the effort to look for the constellation he carried with him. And you, you were a puzzle James couldn't yet solve, the light luring him in like that spark people spend their lives looking for, never sure if they'll ever get to hold it.

After Sirius had been sorted into Gryffindor in his first year, your parents had been very strict about who you socialized with, not wanting any further damage to the oh so carefully crafted family image. Not that it mattered, you and Sirius found plenty of ways to talk, most people didnt care enough to snitch and the ones who did were familiar enough with what you both were capable of to watch their tongues. Sirius was more loud and proud in his defiance, living up to his namesake in the sky, but you were better at hiding it, playing into the part people expected. Yes, Sirius was a fallen star, and your parents had worried he’d drag you with him, but you only shined brighter in his absence, trying to make up for the light lost as if something wasnt permanently dimming it.

And that's exactly what he was worried about right now, because you were never really yourself after a holiday at the Black family manor, always a part of you left behind, a part dimmed. But James was your sun, always there shining bright enough to ignore anything else, because with his light you were never truly dulled. He had missed you, he had missed you so much, your relationship was fresh, but he had been head over heels from the first time you kissed. He had been replaying the memory in his head so often he could almost see it.

You were slytherin’s head girl, just as he was gryfindoors head boy, and you had run into each other while doing rounds of the hallways. Typically this would be a job for the prefects, but for some reason the both of you had decided to take over their duties for the evening, you called it luck, James called it destiny.

It was simply banter while walking down the halls, and it was mostly at James’ expense, but he wouldn’t trade the moment for anything. He was loud with his body, moving his hands as he talked and sometimes kicking his feet ahead of him, but you were more quiet, more calculated. So James did what he always did, talk. “I had a dream once about a glass of strawberry lemonde except it was only as big as my pinky finger, and there was this duck who tried to keep stealing it from me.” You stop in your tracks as he finishes his rant, staring right at him. “Oh my god, I had the exact same dream.” “Really?” his eyes were wide as he saw your face change.

“Are you crazy, of course I didn’t.” You fell back into step and he hurriedly caught up with you again. “Well you never know, Sirius and I have the same dreams sometimes, I mean we’re basically brothers-”

“Does that make me basically your sister?” Your eyebrows were raised at him as you asked your question, and he had to do his best not to trip over his own feet as he answered.

“What, no!-” his face had turned bright red rather quickly, and you would probably never admit this to him, but you had found it quite endearing. “I don’t, I just don’t think of you as a sister, definitely not a sister.” Somehow you had turned him into a nervous wreck in under a minute, and you were quickly getting addicted to the effect you had on him, letting him tumble over his words further.

“Like, if I married you, Sirius would be my brother but you wouldnt be my sister, you know. Those two things don’t have to go togethe-” his thoughts slowly trailed off as he turned his head to look at you, a bright smile now evident on your face, and if this is how your face lit up, he’d gladly make a fool of himself for the rest of his life. “You’ve been thinking about marrying me?” Your head was turned up towards him, challenging him to continue his train of thought. He looked frantically around him as if searching for an answer, hiping the right thing to say would magically appear, but of course it didnt. “What, of course not, I don’t wanny marry you. Wait- no i mean, hypothetically I would but-” “You can relax James, I’m just messing with you” Your shoulders were slightly shaking, suppressing laughter he was desperate to hear. “Right” The tension seeped out of him right as he started laughing himself, and it was so infectious you couldnt help but join him in it.

The two of you fell into an effortless silence as you continued, and James was about to break it before you beat him to the punch.

“You know, right now would be a great moment to kiss me” he was sure he would get whiplash from the way his head turned towards you. The look on your face didnt give anything away, and for a moment he had wondered if he had made it up. “If that's the sort of thing you’d want to do” you were looking down at your shoes now, roles reversed as you had become the nervous one, and for another moment he just stared at the blush creeping up on your face before he realised he should probably say something, anything.

“Don’t you think this is wrong? '' Alright, maybe that wasnt the right something to say, but he genuinely pondered before you put his worries to rest. “dont you think that’s up to us to decide?” You were looking up to him now, eyes enchanting him with a single glance.

“If Sirius finds out-” “I won’t tell if you don’t”

“Well- “James, do you want to kiss me or not?” “Merlin, yes.” with that the last of James’ self control was lost, and he pushed you into the wall behind you as his lips found yours, dedicated to explore you for as long as youd let him. You melted into the kiss just as quickly, leaning your body into him as he pressed up against you. James was eager with everything he did, and this was no exception. His hands didnt know where to go, never staying still for long as they roamed your body, you couldve sworn they were little rays of sunshine, lighting you up everywhere he touched. Your own hands found their way to the nape of his neck, tugging at some hair, resulting in a small moan leaving him, and after the taste you were desperate for more. James found himself in a similar situation, completely forgetting his surroundings as his mouth made its way to your neck, trailing kisses down from by your ear to your pulse point until you were silently moaning his name, begging him not to stop, not that he’d ever dare to.

He continued his assault on your neck, his hands trailing up higher and higher underneath your shirt, longing to feel more of you, you tugged at his hair again and led him back to your face, connecting your lips once more, this time more sloppy, your patience completely gone.

James was ready to drop to his knees for you, and he would have if he didnt hear someone nearly shriek behind him. He turned around, coming face to face with a second year Hufflepuff who looked close to fainting, stuck in place at the corner she had just turned.

“Shit” he mumbled as he leaped forward, not sure whether to comfort the girl or scold her for being out past curfew. As James looked back at you you were close to losing it, and he couldnt deny the humour of the situation himself. In the end the two of you walked the girl back to her common room, not too worried about the situation with how in shock she seemed to be.

So yes, winter break had left him simply wishing to be near you again, and now he was so close he could almost already feel you in his arms again. He had debated telling Sirius, it would be so much easier, since he had moved in with the Potters a while ago and James was struggling to keep his yearning for you to himself, he was sure his parents had figured it out already, but simply choose to let him deal with it on his own for now. Everytime you send Sirius an owl he wanted to take him by the shoulders and shake him, hoping that information about you would fall out like loose change.But he knew Sirius couldn't know, he knew that. Everyone assumes it's James who can't keep a secret, always wearing his heart on his sleeve, but really that's only because he's never really had a reason not to. Truly, it was Sirius who couldn't keep a thing to himself, once he knew, half of Hogwarts knew, he just couldn't stop himself from talking about the things that excited him, which was one of the qualities James so adored, but not one which would play in your favour at the moment.

You were still living with your parents, still subject to their ways and while James had begged you to come live with him as well, you were hesitant. Hesitant to leave Regulus behind, hesitant to leave the life you had grown so accustomed to, even if it wasn't a good one. The both of you knew your parents would never approve, sure, James held the pureblood status, but it had lost its value the moment he harboured Sirius.

And so when the winter holiday came to an end and they once again reached Hogwarts, James was the embodiment of pure excitement. He was glad no one was questioning it, most likely brushing it off as joy at reuniting with his friends, which wasn't entirely untrue.

For a little while he truly got lost in seeing everyone again, trading stories with Remus and Peter about what they had been up to, discussing pranks that needed to be set ij motion to make up for lost time, but when the start of term party took place and he walked down to the common room with the others he froze in his tracks, because there you were. For a split second he wondered if it had been a dream, he had been having them so often now, but Sirius rushed past him to envelop you in a hig so tight you spilled half of your drink over yourself, cursing at him in such a soft tone of endearment as you hugged him back.

"I've missed you, you know" Sirius was beaming at you, doing a quick double check of you, something James used to not think much about until je started doing it himself after he found the strange bruises none of you dared to speak of.

"Yes Siri, I do know" you chuckled back at him, and in that moment all the worry disappeared.

"I've missed you too"

The rest of the group caught up with the two of you, and it was Remus who first spoke

"It's good to see you back" he acknowledged with a small nod, not one for big gestures, but you had all learned it truly was the thought that counts.

"It's good to be back, now if you'll excuse me, I have to go change so there's no longer firewhiskey all over my shirt" You gave a pointed look at Sirius, but his antics were nothing new to you.

"Just use one of my sweaters so you don't have to go all the way back to the slytherin dorms, I have some extras upstairs" sirius nudged his head towards the stairs, you gave him a final hug as you moved to take him up on his offer.

As you walked by him James could smell the blend of vanilla and rosemary that was still there despite the liquor, it intoxicated him like a drug he was already hooked on, finally getting a fix of it after so long apart, and he had to remind himself not to grab you and kiss you right then and there.

You disappeared from his sight as you went up to the dorms and it only took another second for James' brain to spring to action.

"I gotta go"

"What, why? We just got here" he knew he would need a better excuse, but the fuses in his head weren't connecting.

" forgot my wand" is what splurged out

"Why would you need your wand we're-" thankfully it was Sirius's short attention span that came to the rescue, because the moment he saw Marlene he made a beeline to go see her. James wondered if he had it in him to explain his actions to Peter and Remus, but neither of them seemed to mind much, so he sprinted off to the stairs as well.

As soon as he got to his dorm, he reminded himself to knock, not wanting to startle you.

"Merlin Sirius, how am I meant to find anything in this mess?" James creaked the door open to see you rummaging through your brother's trunk, still looking for the sweater you had come up here to find.

"Why don't you just wear one of mine" even the idea of it already made James's head dizzy. Your head spun around as soon as you heard his voice, and for a moment the two of you simply stood there, looking at each other like a long lost treasure. But it didn't last long, because right after James crossed the room in record time, he took you in his arms, connecting his lips with yours as if you were his last source of oxygen. The kiss was heated and filled with lust from the both of you, and James could finally let himself go, finally let his thoughts out and make them reality once more.

That’s why he decided not to waste any more time as he gently nudged you towards his bed, making sure you wouldnt hit the headboard as the both of you laid down. He remembered the path he was trailing down your neck with his eyes closed, had remembered the way your breath hitched and your hips squirmed everytime he did so. All he had to do was follow the same signs and you were a mess underneath him in no time. His hands made their way up underneath your skirt, massaging the skin underneath his fingertips as he heard you moaning out his name, pleading for him to keep going, and he was more than happy to fullfill your request. He continued his way down until he came face to face with your whiskey stained shirt, not thinking twice before taking it off you, but from how you were quick to connect his lips with yours once more you didnt seem to mind. But James was a man on a mission, and it was not one he was willing to abandon. So he willed himself to ignore the whine that left you as he moved away from the kiss, knowing you’d forgive him for it soon enough.

He found his way to your chest and took in the sight for sore eyes you were to him, once again glowing underneath him. He was starting to suck bruises onto your skin, love marks he knew only he would see, and when he would next time he’d be just as eager to leave even more of them behind. Having you like this again, feeling the heat of your skin against him, your hands tugging at his curls as he could hear more and more moans slip out of you, it got him hard in his trousers simply thinking about all the things you’d let him do to you, all the things he’d do for you. He was rutting his hips into the mattress, desperate for the friction of it, his hands krept up further towards your cunt, inching further up until he could slide your underwear to the side and feel just how wet you were for him. His mouth was still busy on your chest as one of his fingers found its way inside of you, making you arch your back towards him. “Fuck darling, your pussy feels just as good as I remember” You wanted to reply to him, telling him how good he felt inside of you, his long hands reaching places you never could on your own, but your words failed you as just another moan left you, your exterior having crumbled down in a matter of minutes thanks to the one and only James Potter, but he seemed to know exactly what was going on.

“I know baby, I’ll take good care of you don’t worry”

He had never broken a promise before, and he wasn’t about to start now, he added a second finger, crooking them inside of you towards the one spot that would turn your vision white as if you were staring straight into the sun itself. If this had been any other moment you might have been embarrassed about how fast you were starting to reach your high, but James wasnt the only one who had been waiting for this, dreaming about seeing each other again, counting down the days. It took him only a little while longer, encouraged only further by your laboured breathing until he was sure he was about to reach his own climax simply from the sounds you were making underneath him as he coaxed you through it. But he didnt give you much time to recover, not letting you catch your breath as he went further down the bed until he could start kissing your thighs, giving in to the urge to bite some of the fat leading up to your cunt, it made you produce a small shriek, and it encouraged him even further.

So he wasted no more time, attaching his lips to your clit and lapping at it like a man starved, wanting to make you cum again, wondering how fast he could make you come undone again. His tongue hungrily took in all the juices from your previous orgasm and from the next one creeping closer and closer. His nose kept bumping against your clit as his mouth was now on your opening, not quite reaching the spots his finger could but oh so heavenly in a whole other way. He was dangerously close to his own high now, rather sure he’d reach it the moment you started spasming underneath him from the overstimulation. But he wasnt letting down just yet, doubling down on his efforts as he felt you grow restless, gracing his ears with whimpers and whispers reserved only for him. He could tell you were about to tip over the edge, knew you and your body well enough by now to see the signs before you even registered them yourself. “You can let go, I’ve got you” he accentuated his words with a soft squeeze to your inner thighs as he could feel you melt into him and took everything you would give him.

“I’m pretty sure you just beat your record” you were breathless but you were already softly giggling as a wide smile broke on his face, proud of himself for his endeavors but furthemore proud of how he had been able to get you to let your walls down around him, how you had let him help you disassemble them brick by brick with each passing day. It was still early in the relationship, but James had never been so sure as to the fact that he loved you, because your presence made him shine even brighter than he already did, and he wasnt sure how much longer he could keep it contained. He moved back up the bed, caging you in with his arms as he leaned down to kiss you, no longer hurriedly or messy, but soft and delicate like the first rays of morning light.

Just as he did so however, someone came barelling in the room, and James cursed himself for not having locked it.

“You better not be cutting one of my shirts into a tank-top again- holy fuck” Sirius very nearly landed face first into the hard wood flooring as he caught sight of the two of you before he he steadied himself on the dresser. The both of you shot up from your positions on the bed, and, ironically enough, approached him as one would a startled deer. “What in Merlin’s beard were you two just doing” He looked as if he was contemplating life itself, and you almost felt bad for him

“What, nothing, you’re drunk-” James tried to defend, but you were rather sure there was no way out of this one.

“I’m not drunk, I’m sober and that's the problem” He was flailing his hands around now, and it was hard to suppress the laugh bubbling its way up your throat.

“Don’t laugh, this is not a situation to laugh at” he was trying to be stern, but it didnt quite suit him.

“It’s alright Sirius, James and I have been seeing each other for a little while now” He was no longer shocked, no, his current expression better resembled being offended.

“And neither of you told me” he was nearly shouting now, but the party downstairs was loud enough that it didn’t really matter anyway.

“We haven’t told anyone, and youre not exactly the best at keeping secrets.”

“Excuse me, I’m great at keeping secrets, I never told you he’s had a crush on you since third year, but apparently I should have”

“Completely forgot I ever told you that” James’ shoulders had lost their tension as he stood next to you now, slowly reaching out for your hand.

“I will go now before either of you scar my eyes any further” Sirius said as he made his way back to the dorm door.

“Oi Moony, wait till you hear- fuck I can’t tell you” He had made a complete mood shift once more as he turned fuzzy, wanting to tell someone the news immediatly.

“It’s fine, Remus knows.” You tell him, interlacing your fingers with James’ in the meantime.

This time he looked betrayed again, halfway down the stairs already as you could hear him yelling. “You knew and didnt tell me?!” and it was faint, but you could make out Remus’ voice as well. “Of course I knew, I have eyes” The two of you looked at each other as he placed a simple kiss on top of your hair, a small gesture of affection that would become increasingly more common with time. He turned around briefly to grab something from his trunk and before you could register it he had already asked, the shirt in his hand.

“Still gotta change your top, why don’t you take my jersey” It made your heart flutter as you slipped the item of clothing over your head and you went to follow Sirius downstairs, figuring this was as good a time as any to tell everyone.

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