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mv1simp · 10 months ago

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I love your stories so much, please write more dark manipulative Max, maybe something with mindbreak or bimbofication of an innocent reader? It would be fun if she was Toto's daughter and Max so holds it over Toto.

this is for all the dark!Max/toto’s daughter/bimbo/mindbreak reader requests all you freaks have been requesting 😼😼 for the first time i have something for the dark!lando girlies!!

Double Fantasy ♥️

Max Verstappen x Lando’s Fuckbuddy!Reader

I can tell that you think that I’m right for you, I already know that it's not true, but girl I'll lie to you (even though it's wrong)

Recently becoming a media executive for the FIA, you can’t deny that your dream job has given you access to your dream men. Sadly, your top pick, Max Verstappen doesn’t look twice your way - not interested in the daughter of Toto Wolff, who he openly dislikes. But you gladly enjoy your consolation prize of being Lando Norris’s fuckbuddy. You didn’t realise just how far Lando planned on extending your arrangement when he pisses the Dutch champion off one step too far - and now needs to figure out the perfect gift to give Max and make amends.

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, dark! max, dark! Lando, but bimbo!reader is into it lol, have done a twist on the usual innocent! reader, she’s toto’s daughter also, dubcon, blindfold, BDSM, no threesomes sorry I can’t share max with anyone else, WC 5.6k

Multiple heads turn your way as you make your way down the FIA garage, your YSL black and gold heels clicking smoothly on the floor. You can’t hold back the pleased smile on your pink glossed lips at the appreciative glances over your curvy figure. At 22, you’ve landed your dream job as a marketing and media executive for the FIA. Glowing recommendations, a perfect GPA and of course a touch of good old fashioned nepotism via your dad, the Mercedes team principal Toto Wolff, landed you here, dressed in luxury outfits and regularly networking with some of the richest people on the continent. What can you say? You’re a material girl, after all, with a pleasure for the finer things in life.

And that included an appreciation of rich, powerful men that you inherited as a result of a strict and emotionless father who preferred to spend his time running a motorsports corporation instead of at home. Daddy issues, one might even say (actually your therapist had said exactly that.) So the Formula One grid, filled to the brim with hot, millionaire drivers who have no issue flirting with the new pretty little toy on the paddock, was the perfect place for a girl like you to work. You definitely had your fun, arriving a few months ago for your first day, dressed in a tight yet full length maxi dress, giving you the perfect blend of sexy and demure that had much of the paddock panting after you.

But you were a girl with a taste for luxury - you weren’t going to settle for any dirty mechanic or plain news reporter. No, what you wanted more than anything, was to get the best of both worlds like your lucky bitch of a stepmom Susie Wolff had done - FIA executive and WAG of the hottest and richest team principal. Even you had to admit, apart from your dad, the rest of the principals were a little bit too far on the balding old men side. But the drivers, you thought wickedly, the drivers were a completely different story. And they knew they were some of the most desired men on the planet, with their fame and status. Their egos were sky high - especially since multiple women would be throwing themselves at them every race weekend or media day. So you had made sure to play the game very, very carefully - unlike the other sultry models on the paddock, or conservative women dressed head to toe in basic team gear, you were the very picture of innocence with your sweet makeup and dark curls, cute girly dresses and heels, all shy giggles one minute and then serious, no nonsense businesswoman the next to keep them on their toes.

A lot of the drivers ate it up, too, flocking to Toto Wolff’s pretty daughter when they’d see you doing the occasional post race interview or brazenly flirting with you at a drivers’ meeting. But the one man who you truly wanted, the 26 year old in the Redbull gear with 3 world champions and a multimillionaire contract to his name, with intense blue eyes and thick thighs and broad shoulders, with a deep voice that sent shivers down your spine one second then flutters in your heart the next when you’d hear him laugh - he was the man who didn’t look twice your way. Despite your attempts to flutter your eyelashes, wearing tight outfits and bend over just so in a certain angle, or pressing your generous tits up against his bulging biceps as your breathlessly whisper Congratulations on the win, Max he wouldn’t even show a flicker of reciprocal interest. You were the daughter of Toto, after all - a principal who he was quite well known in the media for having ongoing disputes with for numerous years. As if Max Verstappen was going to be seduced by the likes of a gold digging daughter who was probably just as two faced as her father.

You’d pouted for weeks, growing bitter with jealousy at seeing Max instead walk around with Kelly, a pretty, tall and slim model who’d apparently outplayed you. But to your delight, you stumbled upon the best consolation prize. With all your pining you hadn’t realized you’d snagged one of the hottest and most desirable drivers on the grid - McLaren’s Lando Norris. Well, snagged was one way to put it - after all, a playboy like him was hard to pin down, especially when he knew how much pull he had over women. But you’d thought about that to, even going so far as saving your virginity like the perfect daddy’s little girl you were. Lando ate it up, twistedly enjoying getting to corrupt the paddock’s pretty princess, the one everyone wanted to get a piece off. So unlike the other women he slept with, the ones kept secret and hidden from the media, you were his favourite toy - one that he paraded around whenever you’d be in the same city. Not quite a girlfriend, of course, he was far too much of a flirt to put such a label on you so soon - more of a friends with benefits, a high maintenance fling, a fuckbuddy, some might call it.

And once you had your manicured hands clinging onto his arms at the races you sure as hell did not plan on letting go. Toto was not overly happy at the news that his eldest daughter was involved with a driver, of course, but had accepted it as Lando was still a good choice compared to many of the other drivers he wanted you to stay well away from - like Mad Max. So you stayed loyal to Lando, not wanting any rumours about you flirting with multiple drivers to impact your dad’s important reputation. You’d only flutter your lashes at Lando, kissing his cheek diligently with your glossed lips, sending the naughty photos of you in expensive lingerie just for him - because the rewards you got as his paddock arm candy were just too good. Always making sure your face was well cut out from any pictures, of course - you would die if they got leaked and your father found out.

But being Lando’s fuckbuddy came with a whole line of luxuries you’d quickly grown accustomed too. Tickets to whatever show you wanted, the finest food at the most expensive restaurant, the papparazzi going crazy at whatever outfit you’d wear when clinging onto Lando’s arm, and of course one of the most coveted men in the world between your legs, teaching you how to come apart on his fingers. That’s right, his fingers, and very rarely his cock, because you needed to secure that diamond ring, after all. And you sure as hell weren’t going to give him wife privileges 24/7 when he hadn’t even made you his official girlfriend yet. So instead you tried to push him to the limits, testing his patience to give up and retire his playboy ways if he finally got to bury his desperate dick inside your heavenly tight pussy again, after having taken your virginity.

Truly, you had outdone yourself, you thought, as every passing race this season Lando got more and more tense as tensions for the World Championships grew, with McLaren finally being able to threaten the Verstappen Red Bull reign for the first time in years. And with each passing race, he couldn’t relieve the tension enough, trying to furiously fuck his way through all number of vogue models but somehow always finding himself back with you, desperately begging to be let in between your soft thighs. And like always, you’d blink innocently and coo that you felt too shy, wasn’t last time enough, you didn’t want to ruin yourself for the man you were going to marry, remember?

And Lando would groan, because as much as he wanted you, he also knew there was no way in hell he was ready to take you to the altar over this. Although it had been getting harder and harder to resist, lately, because although you were truly so talented with your small hands and sweet, drooling mouth, he would endlessly replay the heaven that your pussy had felt like the rare few times you’d let him enter you with his cock.

But as the season went on even you couldn’t calm Lando down, especially after the Zandervoot race. Tensions were at an all time high between him and his normally good friend Max, after Lando stole his home race under him and even sealed the deal by throwing the Dutchman’s simply lovely phrase back at him cockily. Max was well and truly pissed off at Lando then, not even turning upto their weekly Padel games or replying to his texts. Although Lando wanted to win the championship, he also wanted to remain good mates with Max - especially because he knew being on Mad Max’s bad side always ended with the opponent finding themselves crashing into a wall at the next race. So as he pondered just what he could do to get his friend’s forgiveness, a wicked idea came to him, one night when he was out at a Monaco nightclub with you and had run into Max partying with his friends. He’d tried to talk to Max, but had been rudely ignored, so instead Lando stood off the corner, rather crossly glaring at the Dutchman, when he noticed you’d disappeared from his side to tipsily wander to the bar and get another drink.

He was about to go help you when he saw you stumble, maybe take you to the bathroom for a quick sloppy blowjob - but was suprised to see Max appear at your side, his intense blue eyes watching your tinier frame carefully as he rested a large palm over your plump ass to secure you. And Lando watched as you giggled happily, twirling your hair as Max handed over his black Amex to pay for your drink, rewarded with a lingering lip glossed kiss on his cheek from you, before you scampered back over to where Lando was hidden in the shadows. And as you loyally returned to Lando’s arms, whispering that you were going to make him feel so good tonight, he seemed so tense, the Brit found himself ignoring your seductive words entirely to instead focus on how Max’s hungry gaze lingered on your ass as you had strutted away from the tall blonde man. A sinister grin appeared on Lando’s face as he pieced it all together. He’d always thought it was weird that Max chose to completely ignore you, given that he normally was a friendly guy off the track. Turns out his good mate was just trying to avoid getting involved with Toto’s paddock bunny of a daughter, huh?

Turning his attention to you, Lando whispered if you could pretty please try out something new for him tonight, because he was really stressed, okay? He watches you nod eagerly, foolishly thinking your plan to get Lando so desperate for you that he was ready to put a ring on your finger was working. Too bad you had no idea that instead, your fuckbuddy was thinking about how he’d just found the perfect present to gift to his angry rival.

So that’s how you found yourself in a plush hotel bed later that night, all dressed up in a pretty white lace and mesh set and still in your heels, your eyes blindfolded with your hands tied behind your back. You eyes had gone wide with excitement, thighs clenching when Lando had pulled the ropes out, and you’d had to blush and act all innocent when secretly you couldn’t be happier that you were drawing out the dirtier desires in Lando. Because that meant he was falling for you all the more, right?

You had no idea about the private conversation your fuckbuddy had been having with the driver you’d previously desired, just outside the club in a dark alleyway, where Lando had finally cornered Max to apologise. The furious Dutchman had, as expected, been in no mood to hear it - but had stopped in his tracks and turned around when Lando slyly suggested that as he had taken something of his, it was only fair that Max get one of Lando’s precious things in return. Like maybe…you?

At the mention of your name, Max furrows his brows, telling Lando he wasn’t interested in the latest toy on the grid who spread her legs for whichever driver gave her some attention. Oh, Lando all but purred, that’s the catch, mate. She’s basically still a virgin, was one when I met her, only let me fuck her a couple of times, wants to save herself for the one or some shit. But I trained her how to use her holes, and fuck does she know how to suck a guy off with that sweet mouth of hers.

That’d caught Max’s attention, and he smirked to Lando, calling him a fucked up asshole for selling out the girl who was loyal to him like this, who was Toto Wolff’s daughter, no less - a powerful man someone like Lando wouldn’t want to make an enemy off. The Brit shrugged. Toto’s never going to find out. What’s mine is yours, mate. Enjoy. And with that, he tossed his room key to Max.

That night, Lando didn’t feel bad, not even one bit, as he tightly wound the rope around your delicate little wrists, knowing that you loved to act all innocent but secretly kinky shit like this has you dripping. Especially if you were going to be ruined tonight by a man who you secretly still had desires for - and Lando was certain you did, judging from the way he’d seen you look at Max like he was a God you wanted to worship on your knees. Really, he was being a good friend to you both by letting it happen - just this once of course, he wasn’t going to just hand you over to his track rival after putting in so much work to train you to be the perfect sex toy. So he’d left you there all alone in the room, abruptly saying he had an urgent call and would be back.

The drinks you’d had earlier certainly had their affects on you, making you whine against the tight ropes on your flushed and sensitive skin, almost grateful for the blindfold as you felt overstimulated already. When you finally heard the hotel door reopen, you sighed in relief as your fuckbuddy - soon to be boyfriend, you hoped! - finally came back. In your wildest fantasies you’d never have guessed that instead of Lando locking the door, Max stood in his place - and had taken one look at your tempting, restrained form and realized that the sly Brit had definitely not told you about his plans for tonight. Keeping you blind and tied up while you were tricked into thinking it was your beloved Brit entering you and not your daddy’s enemy, Max Verstappen? It was so dirty that Max got an instant hard on. He’d seen the looks, the touches you gave him too - they were rather hard to miss, after all. But he’d played aloof, not wanting to give into your gold digging ways - but he’d admit that he’s been rather disappointed when he found you’d settled for Lando instead. You’d surprised him with how loyal you remained to the McLaren driver, dutifully remaining by his side and avoiding Max’s intense gaze when it would occasionally flicker over to you. But when the alcohol had loosened your inhibitions tonight, Max had seen the desire in your blown pupils, in your hardened nipples that peaked just at the edge of your dress, and had cockily smirked at the realisation that Lando’s little toy, Toto’s precious daughter - that she was still lusting after him.

And now that this opportunity had presented itself….well, let’s just say that it had Max grinning wickedly as he plotted up all the ways he could walk away with both you and the world championship from Lando this year. That would certainly teach the younger male to mess with what was his, wouldn’t it? And even better, it would put that arrogant prick Toto in his place, keep him from daring to speak out against Max in the media when Redbull trashed Mercedes - because his adored little daughter would be spending the race weekends on her hands and knees for the Dutch world champion, if Max had anything to say about it.

So that’s how Max found himself at the foot of the bed, stripping off his clothes and lazily jerking himself off as he watched you squirm underneath your ropes, pouting as you couldn’t do your usual bit of trailing teasing hands all over Lando and rile him up. Baby? You crooned, tilting your head in the direction you thought he was in. Aren’t you going to-Oh!

You felt his warm, large palms cup your cheek, tracing your glossy, pink lips and you automatically poke your tongue out to circle his finger. Good girl, he sighed, the words making your tummy flutter. He sounded a little different to usual, his voice deeper, lower, but it was hard to think clearly over how much your head was pounding from raw desire, and you liked how he sounded tonight. You were feeling really horny and couldn’t wait for him to finally fuck you too - having had to desperately ride your tiny vibrator after stopping Lando fucking you multiple times this month.

His hands continued their path, trailing over your delicate throat and teasingly encircling it with his large hand, making you gasp - you hadn’t remembered it being quite so large that it wrapped around the whole width of your neck. But maybe your senses were more attuned now since you were blindfolded? It felt really good.

You promptly forgot to think about that any longer when those large hands moved downwards, roughly palming your bouncy tits and making you giggle from his attention. He teased and squeezed them, tugging down on the lace to free them in the open air, twisting on your hardened cute nipples. You squealed from the abuse to your overly sensitive areolas, distracted, and didn’t notice when your hands ended up being untied - only to be guided to a very large and hard cock.

Baby, you’d giggled, it’s been so long that you’re even bigger than I remembered. He swore under his breath as you diligently jerked him off with your two small hands barely wrapping around his length, spitting on it cutely to ease the glide. And then he’s rubbing his leaking cock all over your tits, slapping them with it and chuckling darkly as they jiggled, all wet from his precum. Before you know it, you were drooling and suckling all over his cock, sweetly moaning how good he tasted, even more than last time. Suckling his balls and then licking all the way the very tip, just like he’d taught you, placing messy lip gloss stained kisses down the wet shaft before sucking them clean off. You made sure to pay extra attention to the thick veins that ran underneath his length, even the new ones you hadn’t felt before, because he’d told you it drove men wild.

And when he grabbed your pretty curls, you let your mouth go lax so he could pump his full length furiously down your inviting throat, groaning how much of a good girl you were, maybe your full time job should be sucking his cock instead of trotting about the paddock. You moaned excitedly at the idea, and when he cums, all thick and creamy, you obediently swallow it all up.

Look, daddy, you say rather sluttily, dropping your mouth wide open, tongue out as you showed him how well you’d drank all his cum. Fuck, that’s so dirty, calling me and your father the same name, huh? Should’ve known you’d be into kinky shit like this.

You scrunch your brows cutely in confusion, not sure what he meant by that because you’d called him daddy many times before. But you don’t get to ponder too long because you suddenly hear the sound of a camera click and can see the flash go off through the blindfold. Your tummy lurches, because Nooo, baby, no photos, please, what if my dad sees-

Your pleas are ignored as you’re being lifted by two broad arms and tossed onto the bed, your hands dragged up and over your head as your wrists are tied to the headboard. You’re whining, asking him what he was doing, this was too much, you wanted to see him now, to touch him, but again you don’t get an answer.

Instead, you feel his thick fingers hooking around the sides of your soaked panties and sliding them off, lewd strings of your wetness clinging to the lace as it’s pulled away. Then you hear him deeply exhale a fucking hell, making you blush as strong hands grasp your ankles and push them far apart so your intimate parts are exposed for his hungry gaze.

That’s all the warning you get before there’s a foreign sensation of his warm breath blowing on your puffy folds, making you gasp, and before a broad tongue licks a stripe clean up your pink slit. You squeal in suprise, again stupidly babbling and asking what he was doing, because normally Lando didn’t like going down on you, finding it too much effort for a quick stress relieving fuck - he much preferred having you suck him off instead.

But the mouth currently lapping at your folds seems to have realized just how unfamiliar this pleasure seems to be for your sensitive cunny, because he buries his face right in, licking and slurping up all your dripping wetness. You thrash against your restrains, incoherently moaning because it feels so good baby, mmmh, why didn’t he do this more?

He laughs huskily, still buried inside your folds, and the deep vibrations make you almost cum right then and there. Your whole body is burning up with need now and you’re begging for him to put the condom on and slide in it, daddy, please, you needed it so bad-

You both moan as he finally sinks home, your creamy pussy gushing around him as it welcomes him in. You feel breathless at the size of him, because again he’s bigger and thicker than you remembered - not even just his cock, but his whole body, his bulging biceps and broad chest being able to hold you down with ease. You let him know it, too, whining that he’s so strong, it was really hot, had he been working out more?

That made him laugh again, lips grinning right by your ear, as he tilts your hips up to meet his and starts fucking your gushing pussy roughly. Through your euphoric daze, you feel familiar butterflies swirl in your stomach at the deep laugh, the accent sounding so different from Lando’s but still familiar to you for some reason - yet you still couldn’t quite place it. It was impossible to focus with the way he was thrusting into you, his hands pressing your hips down into the mattress in a bruising grip, making your tits bounce with each pump, your breath come out in soft pants as you gasped for air. You’re about to cum, you can feel it, the intensity building up-

And then, finally, he takes off your blindfold. Your brown eyes take a second to adjust to the bright lights - and then you widen them in pure shock as you realize just who’s wide cock was splitting you open.

You scream as Max grins wickedly down at you, pulling back to leave just his leaking tip inside your tight cunny, before slamming back in and, setting a bed breaking pace and drowning out your panicked wails with the loud banging of the headboard against the walls. You’re doing so good for me, schatje he croons, his voice sickly sweet but his actions pure evil as he grabs your dirty panties and meanly shoves them past your plush lips. Grabbing your soft thighs, he tosses them over his shoulder as he bullies his cock into you even deeper from this angle, repeatedly hitting your poor cervix. Tears pool in your brown doe eyes as you look at where he enters you, horrified as you see he’s making you take his cock raw - something Lando and you never did despite how hot it sounded as a baby outside of marriage would be too much for both of your families. You cry and wail and scream, tears streaming down your face at the embarrasing and degrading treatment you’re experiencing. Really, it’s such wicked and sinful behaviour and you should hate Max so much for this, hate Lando for leaving you all tied up and alone and defenceless against his evil and twisted rival to take advantage of you like this, to bully your practically virgin cunny with each deep thrust from his massive cock.

So why are you rapidly reaching your orgasm even faster than before?

Max has apparently learnt the signs of your pliant body underneath him far too quickly, because he slides his thick cock out of your swollen cunny and instead rests it just on top of your folds. Almost lovingly wiping your tears away with a flick of his thumb, he demands that you beg for it, for his cock to split you in half, to cum inside you, for him, Max, to be the only man you ever let inside your sweet pussy from now on.

You frantically shake your head, your muffled no no nos an obvious contrast to what you secretly wanted, as you’re simultaneously bucking your hips up against his hard length, drenching it in new slick. He smirks, leaning down so your foreheads meet and sweetly kissing up your tears. Despite the depravity of the situation, you’re finding yourself blushing from the unexpected gesture. Schatje, he whispers darkly, sending shivers up your spine because you’d always gotten jealous hearing him call other women that, you’re making this so much harder on yourself. It’s going to be so fun to watch you fall apart for me.

With that, he agonisingly tortures you, dragging just his tip through your folds again and again, slapping your throbbing clit with his head, biting and sucking on your sensitive nipples that leaves you arching your back into his talented mouth. You’re struggling to make sense of what’s going on, of trying to keep coherent. All that hard work and patience to try and lure Lando in was gone the very second your pussy had welcomed Max into it, because you knew Lando would never take you back if he found out about this. Your desperate brain reasons that then, it shouldn’t matter, right? It was too late for you and Lando. And now, you had Max Verstappen using your pretty body however he wanted, making you fulfill all his twisted desires. If you showed him how good you could be for him, be the perfect little pet for all his frustrations to be let out at, maybe he’d keep you around…permanently?

Max didn’t miss the dazed look that had overtaken your wide doe eyes as your whines quietened down. Guess all his teasing had finally melted that scheming brain of yours. Yanking your panties out of your mouth, he asked you if you were ready to behave and ask him nicely.

You nod obediently, looking at him with heart eyes as you confess that his cock felt so good, so addictive, you don’t think you could ever go back to Lando after being stretched open so wide, and could he pretty please fuck you hard and good?

Max growls at your submissive words. You’re offering yourself up to me so sweetly, baby. How can I say no?

He unties your aching wrists, running his soothing palms over the rope marked skin, bending down to give you a passionate, open mouthed kiss. You greedily slurp at his intruding tongue, letting yourself get lost in the pleasure as he lines himself up at your entrance before easily sinking into the wet folds. This time, he doesn’t stop his wicked thrusts, not when you’re squirting on his cock, eyes rolling to the back of your head, not when a creamy ring forms around the base of his cock from your cum, not when you’re tangling your hands in his hair and whining that it’s too much, you’re going to pass out.

He only stops once he’s tensing above you, one hand squeezing your neck and the other gripping the headboard as he drains his entire load into your tight cunny desperately clenching around him. Yours is truly the sweetest pussy he’s ever fucked. He’s never letting you go. He cums so much that it spurts out past your pussy lips, all over your soft thighs.

After a while, when he’s done whispering praises into your ears, your gooey brain soaking it all up, he slides out of you, admiring how his cum leaks out of your cunny that had treated him very well tonight. He places a gentle kiss to your temple and lets you doze off for a bit. It takes you a while longer to come to your senses, and when you sit up, you gulp down the glass of cold water that has been placed on the bedside table. You see Max spread out on an armchair across the room, shirtless and in some grey sweats, smirking at something on his phone - but he looks up when he hears you and lets his gaze drift down your marked up body. You flush under his intense ice blue eyes, heart fluttering at finally getting attention from the richest and fastest driver on the grid.

He beckons you over, calling you his pretty schatje, and in your blissed out state you obediently crawl over to him on your hands and knees, settling in between his spread legs and resting your head against his large thigh. And when he tells you that you looked so cute crawling for him, maybe next time he’ll get you a leash and collar with his name on it, hmm? you bite your lip and shyly nod, telling him of course, you’d do whatever daddy wanted.

He grins darkly, pleased with your submissive response, knowing you’re completely his. Forget Toto, forget Lando, the only man you’d ever be loyal to from now on was him. So you eagerly open your juicy lips wide at his command, drooling all over his cock to clean up the sticky mess your pussy walls had left behind. And when he points his phone at you, hitting record, you glassily stare straight at the camera, letting it capture how you hollowed your cheeks and licked up the creamy ring coating the base of Max’s cock. Gonna send this to your father if he keeps lying about how I’ve going to sign a Mercedes contract next year, Max teases meanly. Or to Lando if he tries to overtake me on the track again. You whine at him, brown doe eyes distressed, and start deepthroating him even faster to please him more, hoping if you did he wouldn’t show your daddy or ex fuckbuddy how much of a slut you were for the champion driver.

Being on your knees and obediently blowing Maxie was a position you became very familiar with. Because like he had wanted, every race weekend you would break your FIA contract clause of remaining unbiased and be dressed in a skimpy little outfit in Redbull colours, your lush tits pushed against Max’s thick biceps as you clung onto him through his paddock walk. Max couldn’t resist smirking at the Mercedes garage where Toto would glare, arms crossed, at the sight of his well accomplished daughter following the reckless Redbull champion around like a lost bunny. Placing a possessive large palm across your ass as he guided you into his private jet, giving it a good squeeze, Max made sure the paparazzi caught a good pic of that, too, for your father to see later when he opened Twitter.

And Lando, who knew how much Max despised sharing his toys, skulked from his seat when he saw you entering Max’s plane for the ride back to Monaco. He’d make sure to never make the mistake of flying in the Verstappen jet again, he thought as he moodily shoved his headphones over his ears to drown out the filthy sounds and desperate moans you let out as Max fucked you raw on the other side of the cabin divider. You’d never let Lando fuck you in such a public place or so often, no matter how often he’d begged you.

Fuck it, might as well make the most of it, the Brit thought once he stopped moping and realised his music wasn’t going to block out the obscene squelches as his rival continued to greedily bounce your creamy pussy on his thick cock. Shoving his hand down his pants, Lando slowly started jerking himself off, smirking when he sees one of Max’s air hostesses blush and bite her lip when he catches her looking. Apparently he hadn’t learnt his lesson of keeping his hands off what belonged to the Dutchman after all, because soon he’s thrusting into the hostess’s willing mouth with the same rapid pace that Max is fucking you with.

Your father had always said birds of a feather flocked together, after all.

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A/N: POST FIC CLARITY HIT HARD IN THIS ONE AHHHHHH 😳😳 hope this satisfies the dark max hoes (yall are so real for that)😼😼 as usual let me know what you think and send in more requests!

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w4ndal0ver · 7 months ago

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teacher's pet (professor!agatha x student!reader)

W4NDALOVER'S KINKMAS | 2024

dec 6: teachers pet (professor!agatha x student!reader)

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

KINKMAS MASTERLIST | 2024

summary: Professor Harkness has always wanted you, but when you don't give into her advances she decides to use an enchanted quill in order to sway you in her direction.

warnings: 18+, SMUT MDNI, dubcon, enchanted quill, strap-on, begging, choking, mommy kink (used cautiously), slight breeding kink, kind of edging if you squint hard enough

teachers pet.

Agatha sat at her desk, a carefully measured distance between herself and the papers that lay before her. She had long since learned to enjoy the quiet moments alone in her office, the brief respite between the chaos of the outside world and the controlled environment she had created here. It was a sanctuary, a place where she could indulge in her thoughts. Thoughts of you.

She’d noticed you from the very first day you stepped into her office and over time, the quiet ache of her desire had only grown. Your eagerness, the way you were always the first to arrive at class, sitting at the front with a notebook in hand, always eager to ask questions, always searching for her approval. You were the perfect student, disciplined, careful - but there was something in the way you looked at her, something that went past mere respect.

She watched as you entered her office, just as you always did - tentative, but eager. Your hand, delicately rested against the doorframe for a moment before you stepped inside, a slight hesitation hanging in the air. Your gaze flickered toward her before quickly looking down at the floor, and Agatha’s lips curled into the smallest of smiles.

You were still shy, still so innocent, but there was something undeniably captivating about you. The way you moved, so aware of your body, and yet, you couldn’t help but draw attention to yourself. The tightness of your skirts that gripped so perfectly to your ass, and she couldn’t deny that she’d caught a glimpse of you more and more. Your carefully chosen attire, always polished and proper, but undeniably teasing.

“Professor, you wanted to discuss my project?” You say, your voice soft, a little hesitant, as though you weren’t entirely sure how to be in her presence. Agatha had heard that tone before. It was the sound of someone trying too hard to act professional, to hold onto some semblance of control, when in reality, they were anything but composed.

She tilted her head, letting her eyes linger on you a moment longer than necessary, taking in the way your fingers nervously played with the hem of your skirt, how your lips pressed together just a little too slightly.

“Of course, come in darling.” Agatha responded, her voice smooth. She gestured for you to sit, and as you settled into the chair across from her, she couldn’t help but notice how you shifted slightly, tugging your skirt down as though it might betray you. She bit back a laugh and how you were so unaware of how you made her feel.

Your hands rested on your lap, fingers curled slightly, the faint tremble just noticeable enough for Agatha to catch it. She knew what you were trying to do, trying to appear professional, trying to act as if this meeting was no different from any other. But she had seen you enough times to know the difference between what you showed and what you truly felt. The way your gaze lingered on her when you thought she wasn’t looking, the slight quiver of your lip when you asked a question that was a little too personal, a little too loaded.

Her gaze drifted to your face, watching as you shifted again, glancing down at your notes, a lock of hair falling across your forehead. Agatha could feel the pull between you both, an invisible thread that kept drawing her attention to you, to the way your lips parted slightly when you spoke, as though you were unsure of the words coming out, unsure of yourself.

“Everything seems to be progressing well with your project,” Agatha said, her voice smooth, but her mind already elsewhere. The light in your eyes, the way your shoulders were just a bit too stiff for someone so young, so open. You wanted something more. She was sure of it. You didn’t have to say it, Agatha could see it in every small gesture, every fleeting glance.

You were so careful, always so careful, never pushing beyond the boundary you had drawn around yourself. But Agatha knew, in her quietest moments, that you wanted to. She had seen it in the way you looked at her when you thought she wasn’t paying attention, the way your eyes lingered on her just a fraction longer than was appropriate.

Her eyes fell to the desk, where the enchanted quill sat waiting. It had been in her possession for years, a relic of a past she tried to leave behind, and yet it called to her now, with an intensity she couldn’t ignore. With just a flick of her fingers, she could make this moment more than what it was, more than just a professor and her student. She could make you feel things, things that neither of you had ever allowed yourselves to feel before.

Agatha’s fingers brushed the edge of the quill, her gaze flickering over to you again. You were so beautiful in your innocence, so unaware of the depth of your own desire. But tonight, that would change.

“You’ll need to sign this for me,” Agatha said, breaking the silence, her voice suddenly sharper, more purposeful. She reached for the parchment, her fingers brushing against the edge of the quill as she pushed the document toward you. Your eyes followed her every movement, and she couldn’t miss the way you shifted in your seat, your chest rising and falling just a little faster than before.

You reached for the quill, your fingers brushing against the smooth, cool surface. Agatha’s heart skipped a beat. There it was. The magic would begin, slowly at first, unnoticed. But it would build, and when it did, you would have no choice but to acknowledge what you both had been avoiding for far too long.

The moment your fingers brushed the enchanted quill, a shift occurred in the room—subtle, almost imperceptible, but unmistakable. Agatha’s pulse quickened, her gaze locked on you with a quiet intensity as you signed your name on the parchment, the ink swirling a little too smoothly beneath your hand. She watched, savoring the way your shoulders tensed, the slight shift in your posture, as if something deep inside of you had stirred to life.

You didn’t know it yet, of course, but Agatha could already feel the subtle change in the air. The magic was working its way through your system, slow and steady, like a gentle tide pulling you under. You were still unaware, still looking down at the paper with a furrowed brow, your expression unreadable. But Agatha saw the smallest signs, the flush creeping up your neck, the way your breath seemed to catch in your throat.

“I also wanted to ask you about this part of your essay. It's a really interesting take.” Agatha says, wanting to confuse you even more as your head becomes fuzzy with the lust enchantment, knowing that the more you think about what to say, the more sensitive and desperate you’d become.

You placed the quill back on the desk, the delicate tip still glimmering in the dim light of the office. Agatha leaned back in her chair, her fingers tapping the edge of her pen, watching you closely. She could hear the soft rustle of your skirt as you shifted in the chair, the sound of your breath growing just a touch heavier with each passing moment. It was subtle, but it was there. The tension. The pull.

“You seem restless,” Agatha said, her voice low, almost a purr. She watched as your eyes flickered toward her, a brief hesitation before you met her gaze. The flush on your cheeks had deepened now, and Agatha couldn’t help but revel in the shift she had caused. She had always been so good at reading people, at sensing the smallest changes, and now she could see the effects of her subtle manipulation working its way through you.

You shifted again, this time more noticeable, a shift of your legs that made your skirt rise slightly, just enough for Agatha to catch a glimpse of the delicate skin beneath. She bit her lip, but only for a moment, as she kept her focus entirely on you. The way you crossed and uncrossed your legs, the way your fingers fidgeted with the edge of your sleeve, each motion a sign of the growing discomfort building within you. You weren’t just restless anymore; you were beginning to feel the weight of something unspoken, something you couldn’t quite name.

"Is everything alright?" Agatha asked, her voice soft, but her eyes sharp, taking in every little detail. She could see the way your eyes darted to her lips for the briefest of moments before you quickly looked away. The way you swallowed, throat bobbing, as though trying to push down something you didn’t know how to acknowledge.

"I - I think so," you murmured, but your voice was different now. The words came slower, as though you were struggling to keep your thoughts in order. Agatha saw it. The way your hands gripped the edge of your chair a little too tightly, the way your legs shifted restlessly beneath the table. There was no denying it now, the magic was working.

She leaned forward, just enough for her presence to feel closer, more palpable. She could see your chest rise and fall more quickly, your pupils dilating ever so slightly as she made the smallest movement, as though testing the waters.

"Are you sure?" Agatha's question hung in the air, almost teasing, but never fully pushing. She wanted to see just how far you would go, how much you would reveal before you could no longer control it. She had always watched you, watched you closely. She knew you were waiting for something, something that only she could give you.

You shifted again, a slight tremor in your hand as you placed it on the table, as if trying to steady yourself, but it only betrayed you. Agatha saw the way your fingers twitched, the way your eyes refused to meet hers, no matter how hard you tried to regain some semblance of control. You couldn’t hide it.

The air between you both was thick now, taut with something neither of you could name, but both of you could feel. The silence stretched for a moment before Agatha broke it with a soft, knowing smile.

"You don’t have to pretend with me," she said, the words laced with an almost untraceable sweetness. She could see the way your breath caught at the sound of her voice, the way your eyes flickered to her lips again, only this time, you didn’t look away.

You were slipping, Agatha realized, and she couldn’t help the small thrill that coursed through her. This was it. She had waited so long to see you like this, to watch you come undone before her eyes, and now, the anticipation of it was nearly unbearable.

You shifted in your seat once more, and Agatha’s eyes followed the movement, the way your body reacted to the growing heat between you both. She could see the slight sheen of sweat forming at the back of your neck, the way your breath was becoming more shallow, more labored. The quill had done its job, heightened your awareness, your sensitivity to every small movement, every fleeting touch.

"I- I think I need a moment," you whispered, your voice trembling now, no longer the calm, collected student she was used to.

Agatha’s lips curved upward, a slow, deliberate smile spreading across her face. She could feel the weight of your desire, could almost taste it in the air between you. She knew exactly what you needed, even if you didn’t yet understand it yourself.

"You can have all the time you need," she said softly, her voice a mere breath of sound, knowing full well that the moment had already passed. The spell had already begun its work. And there was no turning back now.

Agatha lets her gaze drop to your hands, noting the way your fingers curl just slightly, as though the movement is automatic, as if you’re trying to hold onto something—anything—to stop the flood of feelings threatening to overwhelm you. You’re so close now, so close to giving in, and Agatha relishes in the control she holds over you, the way every little gesture of yours betrays your struggle.

“Are you feeling... uncomfortable?” Agatha asks, her voice soft, like silk. She leans forward ever so slightly, just enough to see the way you flinch, the way your breath catches in your throat, like you’re suddenly hyper-aware of the way she’s watching you. Her eyes linger on your lips, and she can feel the subtle tension in your body as you fight not to follow her gaze, not to let the heat between you both become too obvious.

Your breath comes in shallow bursts now, faster than before. You shift in your seat again, a little more urgently this time, and Agatha watches as your legs move restlessly, the hem of your skirt inching higher, revealing the delicate curve of your calf. It’s an innocent movement, a natural shift, but Agatha’s eyes track it like a predator eyeing its prey. The magic of the quill hums in the air around you both, thickening the space between you, and she can feel the way it pulls at your resolve, making every small motion feel more intense, more charged with that irresistible pull.

“I, I don’t know what’s happening,” you whisper, your voice barely audible now, strained with the effort of trying to hold onto whatever control you have left. Your eyes flicker to hers for a fleeting moment, then quickly dart away, like a moth too afraid to fly too close to the flame.

Agatha feels her lips part in the smallest of smiles. You think you’re losing control, but she knows better. You’ve been wanting this, she tells herself, even as she watches you struggle against the tide. You want this. You just don’t have the courage to admit it yet.. Your hands clench tighter, your body swaying just slightly in your seat as though you can’t quite decide whether to move closer to her or flee. But Agatha knows. She knows you’ll stay.

You’ve never felt like this before. You’ve had moments of embarrassment, the familiar flutter of nerves when speaking with Agatha, but this? This is something else entirely. It’s not just your heart racing; it’s something deep inside you, something primal that you can’t name. You feel hungry, in a way that’s foreign, unrecognizable, and yet you know it’s her. Her presence, the way she watches you, the way her eyes seem to follow your every move.

It’s all too much.

Agatha, on the other hand, remains completely oblivious to the chaos she’s unwittingly caused. Her fingers continue their idle drumming on the desk, her posture relaxed, as though nothing is out of the ordinary. She’s staring at the pile of papers in front of her, her attention seemingly elsewhere.

It should be comforting, the way she remains so calm, so controlled, but it only seems to fuel the fire within you. The longer she remains unaware, the more your body betrays you, the more desperate you become for her. You can’t think straight anymore, can’t focus on anything except the ache between your legs, the burning need that has taken root deep inside you.

Finally, you can’t take it any longer. You stand abruptly, your hands trembling as you push the chair back from the desk. Agatha doesn’t notice, her eyes still focused on her notes, still completely absorbed in whatever she’s reading. The sight of her so composed, so calm, is the final straw. You take a shaky step forward, the distance between you and her now feeling insurmountable, like something invisible but real is keeping you apart.

Your voice cracks when you speak, the words escaping before you can stop them. “Professor, I- I need you.”

The moment the words leave your mouth, you freeze. You hadn’t meant to say it. You hadn’t meant for it to sound so desperate, so raw, but the confession is out there now, hanging in the air between you. You swallow hard, your throat dry, as you dare to look up at her.

Agatha blinks, her brow furrowing slightly as she looks at you. For a moment, you wonder if she didn’t hear you properly, if she’s just playing it cool, trying to maintain the authority she always does. But then, slowly, her eyes shift from the papers on the desk to you, and she seems to take in the way you’re standing, how tense you are, how your breathing has changed. She pauses, her lips parting slightly, as though she’s unsure what to make of your admission.

“I-" she begins, her voice soft but still steady. "I’m not sure what you mean. Is something wrong with your project? I thought we were making good progress.”

You shake your head, your chest tightening with each passing second. This isn’t about the project. Not anymore. You can’t seem to form a coherent sentence, your mind clouded by the sensation of wanting her, of needing her. Your body is practically shaking with the intensity of it, your fingers curling into fists at your sides to keep from reaching for her, to keep from pulling her closer.

“No,” you whisper, the word slipping out like a plea. “I need you. I don’t, I don’t know what’s happening, but I can’t- I can’t control it anymore.”

Agatha’s eyes widen slightly, the confusion in her gaze evident, and for a moment, you think she might laugh it off, dismiss it as some odd outburst. But the longer she stares at you, the more she seems to realize that you’re not joking. That this isn’t some fleeting moment of embarrassment or an impulsive comment. This is real. And the realization crashes into her like a wave.

For the briefest of moments, there’s a flicker of something in her expression—something unreadable. Her lips part, but no words come out, as though she’s unsure of how to respond, unsure of whether she should push you away or give in to the pull that seems to be growing between you both.

You take a step closer, the sound of your shoes echoing in the silence. Your body is drawn to her as if it’s not your own anymore, each movement an involuntary reaction to the desire swelling inside you. You’re so close now, so close you can feel the heat radiating from her body, see the subtle rise and fall of her chest as she breathes. It feels like there’s an invisible force pulling you both together, and you’re powerless to stop it.

“I don’t know what you’ve done to me,” you say, your voice trembling now, the words tumbling out in a rush. “But I can’t think. I can’t think of anything but you.”

Agatha is silent for a long moment, her gaze flickering over your face as if searching for any sign that this might be a trick. But there’s no mistaking it now. She can see it, the desperation in your eyes, the way your body is trembling with the weight of your own need. She can feel it too, the way the air between you has shifted, charged with something neither of you can deny.

And still, she remains quiet, her fingers resting on the desk in front of her, her expression unreadable. For a brief, agonizing moment, you wonder if she will reject you, if she will turn away and pretend this never happened. But then, finally, she speaks.

“I see,” Agatha says, her voice almost too soft to hear, but there’s no mistaking the authority in it. “And what is it that you want from me?”

The silence stretches between you, thick and heavy, the tension palpable as Agatha stands still, her gaze unwavering. You can feel the heat pooling in your chest and between your legs, crawling up your neck, suffocating you. Every part of your body aches, an unfamiliar hunger gnawing at your insides, growing with each second that passes. You can’t think straight anymore. You can’t stand it.

You swallow hard, your throat dry, and your hands shake as you finally break the silence. “Please, Agatha,” you whisper, voice trembling. “I can’t take it anymore. I need you. It hurts. Please, make it stop.” Your words spill out in a rush, a frantic plea, and you take a step forward, drawn to her as though you have no control over your body. “Please I don’t know what’s happening, but it hurts. I can’t think straight, I don’t know what to do, I don’t.”

You’re rambling now, desperation clear in your voice, your entire being trembling with the weight of your need. You’ve never felt like this before,so lost, so vulnerable, so exposed. You don’t know how much longer you can stand this unbearable pressure, this overwhelming heat, this need for her.

Agatha’s gaze softens slightly, and you see something flicker in her eyes, a flicker of understanding, maybe even something else. But her expression remains controlled, her facade still intact. She was corrupting you and it felt so sweet.

“Sit,” she commands, her voice calm but firm, her fingers tapping lightly on the top of her desk. The sound echoes through the room, and for a brief moment, you think she’s testing you, waiting to see if you’ll obey, if you’ll listen to her.

Without thinking, your body moves before your mind can even catch up. You move quickly, too quickly, as if your limbs are not entirely your own, and you sit on the edge of the desk in front of her chair. The surface is cool beneath you, but it does nothing to quell the burning ache inside.

“I need you,” you say again, your voice barely more than a broken whisper. “It hurts so much, I can’t take it. Please, Agatha, please, I need you to, to make it stop.”

Your words are frantic now, desperate, each one laced with an urgency that makes your breath catch in your throat. You can’t think. You can only feel. Your body is on fire, your pulse pounding in your ears, and all you can do is beg.

Agatha leans back in her chair, her eyes still fixed on you, and for a long moment, she says nothing. Her fingers rest lightly on the arms of her chair, but the way she holds herself now is different, less rigid, less controlled. Her gaze moves slowly over you, and you feel it like a physical touch, every inch of her attention focused on your trembling form. She’s watching how your skirt has rode up your thighs, your dampened underwear on show to her, this is exactly how she wanted you.

“I don’t think you understand,” she murmurs, her voice low and tender. But there’s no mistaking the edge to her tone, the quiet power behind her words. “You’re asking for something you don’t fully grasp. Something you won’t be able to walk away from.”

“I don’t care,” you say, the words coming out before you can stop them. “I don’t care. I just I need you to touch me. I need to feel something, anything, to stop this burning inside me.”

You’re on the edge of breaking, and it’s almost too much. Every nerve in your body is on fire, and the ache between your legs is unbearable. You need her. You need her so badly that the thought of being without her, of not feeling her, is enough to make you feel dizzy, lightheaded.

Agatha stands suddenly, her movement fluid and deliberate. You barely register it before she’s right in front of you, so close that you can feel the heat radiating from her body. Her fingers graze your knee as she steps closer, and the touch is electric, sending a jolt of sensation straight through you.

Her lips part slightly, and she leans in, her breath warm against your ear. “Tell me what you need,” she says softly, almost coaxing, but there’s an undeniable authority in her voice now, one that sends a shiver down your spine.

You don’t hesitate. You can’t. “I need you to fuck me.” you gasp, the words slipping out as though they were the only thing holding you together.

There’s a moment of silence, just a beat, a breath, before Agatha’s fingers press lightly against your chin, tilting your head up so that you’re forced to meet her gaze. Her eyes are dark now, and there’s something predatory in them, something that makes your heart race even faster, makes your body ache even more.

Without a word, she leans in, her lips brushing against your forehead, soft at first, gentle, before she pulls back slightly, her eyes still locked on yours. “You’re sure this is what you want?” she asks, her voice low, almost a whisper, but the weight behind the question makes it impossible to ignore.

You nod fervently, your voice barely a whisper, trembling with desperation. “Yes, yes, Agatha. I need this. I need you.”

Agatha’s eyes flicker with something unreadable, and for a moment, you wonder if she’s reconsidering, if she’s going to push you away, make you leave. But then, slowly, her lips curl into the faintest of smiles—something dark, something knowing.

“Good,” she murmurs, her voice almost satisfied. “Then I’ll give you what you need.”

With that, she steps closer, her hands finding their way to your waist, pulling you closer to her, the closeness nearly overwhelming. She doesn’t speak as she moves, doesn’t need to. There’s no need for words now. Her actions say everything. And you, desperate, trembling with need, can’t help but give in completely.

You reach for her neck, unable to contain yourself anymore, pulling her face closer to yours, trying to connect your lips together in a desperate scramble to feel her on your body. Agatha complied, that same smirk she always wore not once leaving her face as she finally had you sat on her desk, your legs spread round her body, doing anything you could to get her to touch you.

She doesn’t dare resist your scrambling, instead letting you pull her into a deep kiss, her lips sliding against yours in a messy rhythm, not able to find any relief in how you were feeling. Agatha was anything but gentle with you but you were not complaining, her tongue started to trace your bottom lip and you opened up immediately, letting her explore you with her tongue. You groaned loudly into her mouth, your legs wrapping around her waist, trapping your professor between your legs. She took this opportunity to test your waters, her teeth scraping against your bottom lip before pulling it away from your face, her teeth digging into your skin. When she was met with a muffled moan, it was the prettiest sound Agatha had ever heard and she was thankful for how much rougher you were going to be able to take her now she’d enchanted your emotions and more importantly your body.

You start to grind your hips up against Agatha’s crotch, you couldn’t work out what was making you feel like this, you’d never acted like this with anyone, and even though you’d imagined it with your professor, you never thought you’d be in this position. The harder you grinded against her, it became more apparent that she was packing something underneath her trousers and the thought of your professor wearing a strap beneath that suit was making you feral.

“You found something you’re looking for?” Agatha teased as you reached your hand to grab the bulge that lay underneath, a moan tumbling from your lips, your legs wrapping around her tighter to feel her cock against you.

“Do you always wear that?” You ask breathlessly, confused momentarily for why your professor would be wearing a strap to just sit and grade papers in her office. Before you could question it further, Agatha snaked her hand around to touch you through your soaked underwear, hiking your skirt further up your legs and you couldn’t pass out at the feeling.

“Fuck you’re soaked.” Agatha groaned, the sound of your breathy moans something that she couldn’t ignore, she wanted to devour you, but there was something about leaving you in this state, so whiny and desperate that was particularly appealing, but when she looked at your pleading eyes she realised she couldn’t ever do that to you. “Aren’t you a pretty little thing?” Agatha cooed as she pushed your underwear to the side, looking in awe at your pussy dripping in arousal. You looked so pure and untouched, everything about how your folds trembled in the anticipation to be touched was drawing Agatha in more than she thought she could be.

“Professor please I need you to fill me up.” You whine, the cold air hitting your arousal making you realise just how worked up you’d become. You must’ve said something right, because Agatha let out a breathy grunt before working her index finger towards your entrance, her other hand coming up to grasp at your throat before she pushed her entire digit inside of you. Your strangled moan was even prettier than Agatha expected and when you pushed your neck further into her grip and started to lift your hips to slide her finger in and out of you, she shook her head in genuine disbelief at how pathetic you looked like this.

You start whining when Agatha doesn’t match your thrusts, wanting nothing more than for her to start pounding her fingers into you, but instead she just slips another finger inside you with ease, stretching your tight pussy around her fingers instead of thrusting into you. You were squirming up against her touch, your clit burning at how it was being ignored by her. Your doe eyes looking up at her as her grip tightened around your neck. “You’re just too tight, I need to warm you up doll.” You groan at her words, knowing for a fact that you could take her.

“Professor I can take you, I need to take all of you now.” You say desperately, thighs shaking around her waist. You take it into your own hands, unbuckling Agatha’s belt in a chaotic scramble to see her strap that was waiting to be buried inside of you. Normally Agatha wouldn’t tolerate this desperate behaviour, but considering she was the one that put the spell on you, she let it slide, watching in awe as you undressed her bottom half, waiting for the cock to spring out and when it did your eyes widened. “It’s huge.” You gasp, not expecting the sheer girth and length of the purple cock to take you this much by surprise.

“Yeah and you’re gonna take it.” Agatha grins at the scarlet flush on your cheeks, expecting some level of protest, but instead she is met with your hands scrambling at her hips, trying to push her towards you. Agatha chuckled with a low hum at the familiar eagerness that first drew her to you. She doesn’t waste any more time, spitting down onto her hand before rubbing it up and down her strap a few times before slapping the head against your pussy, drawing out a string of desperate whines, your hips bucking wildly at the feeling. “Keep still princess.” She whispers, holding your thighs down onto the desk as she slightly pushes into you, careful not to hurt you.

You didn’t care, you needed to feel your Professor's cock deep inside you and when she can feel the tremble of your thighs trying to get yourself further onto her strap, she does it for you. She enters you with one single thrust and your fingernails dig hard into her back as she starts to pound harder into you, her hands now gripping your waist, pulling you harder onto her to meet each movement.

Agatha could see how swollen your clit had become, it was basically begging to be touched, but she knew if she did so much as swipe her finger across it, you’d come and be way too sensitive to go again. The enchantment usually had that effect, but you weren’t letting this end here. You were way too shy to ever come back to her after you remember how pathetic you were asking, so she was going to drag this out for as long as she could.

She kept pounding into you, your pretty moans had turned into guttural gasps and grunts as you felt the burning in your clit, wanting nothing but to reach down and touch yourself, but you knew better than that, even with the intense feelings you were having, you weren’t about to mess this up.

You could feel something building inside of you, you’d never come without clitoral stimulation, it was different, but you were craving some sort of relief. Agatha could feel you trembling beneath her, and before you knew it you were empty again. You felt like crying, but before you had a chance to react, her hands were gripping at your scalp, pulling you off the desk and hitting the ground with a thump. Your knees were aching from the drop, but when Agatha turned to look at you, her strap eye level with you, you couldn’t feel it anymore, the only thing you could focus on was the fire in your core begging to be put out.

“Come on doll, you know you want to.” Agatha smirks at the way your eyes were gleaming at the strap that was glistening in your arousal. Her hand was gripping around the base, guiding it towards your closed mouth, moving the head against your lips until you gave in and your mouth fell open, your tongue immediately attacking Agatha’s cock.

You wanted nothing more than for her to grab your head and force her cock down your throat, so you tried to do just that. Taking as much of the length into your mouth as you could and Agatha groaned as if she could feel it, her head tilted back as she grabbed the back of your head, helping you as you desperately tried to take the entire thing down your throat. You started to choke as she thrusted into your mouth, she tried to pull out but you gripped the back of her thighs. You suddenly had an intense desire to have your throat fucked raw, something that you’d never even really been into before, but this felt so different.

“God you’re such a whore,” Agatha spluttered at how keen you were to please her, “You’d do anything as long as I’m pounding into you.” With each word she thrusted harder into your mouth as you nodded at her assumption, moaning and spluttering around her cock, saliva dripping down your chin.

This time she pulled out of you, sitting back onto her desk chair leaving you on your knees, your brain fuzzy and your face covered in saliva. “Come sit on my lap, you can do the rest of the work if you’re that desperate.” Agatha said casually and she’d never seen someone scramble to get up so quickly. You were dripping down your thighs, your mascara running down your cheeks and combining with the saliva dripping from your chin.

Agatha couldn’t help but put her hand on your face as you straddled her lap, lowering yourself down onto her strap. She wiped the saliva from your chin, her eyes not leaving your cunt as you finally took the entire thing and before you could even adjust you started bouncing up and down on it, chasing the orgasm that had been ripped from you. Agatha would’ve usually sat back and watched you struggle, but there was something so endearing about your primal desperation to be fucked that she decided to help you out, thrusting her hips back into you as you moved down against her.

“Fuck Momm-” You stopped yourself, “Professor sorry that’s what I meant.” That did it, Agatha moaned at your words, picking you up off of her cock and slamming you against the desk, forcefully bending you over and spreading you open before thrusting her cock back into you as you moaned gutterally against the desk.

“You take Mommy’s cock so well princess.” Agatha growls, spreading you further so she could watch her strap disappear inside of you. She grabbed both of your hands, pinning them behind your back to give her some leverage as she thrusted harder into you than before. You could barely see, the pleasure overwhelming you to the point of no return.

“Mommy my clit, please I need to cum all over your cock, please let me.” You whine, your words barely forming as each time you spoke your body was being shoved hard into her desk, her ungraded papers getting crumpled beneath you, but neither of you seemed to care.

Agatha obliged, letting go of your hands, slipping one of hers between your legs to harshly brush circles against your clit, her other hand grabbing a fistful of your hair, tugging on your neck so she could see the faint reflection of your fucked out face in the black screen of her computer.

It wasn’t going to take much more, Agatha was sure she could feel you clenching around her strap and the moans that were leaving your mouth were scratchy and tired, your throat burning from where she was thrusting into you.

“Mommy, i-’

“Come now pretty girl or you won’t be coming tonight.” Agatha insisted and like magic, you felt every single muscle stand on the edge, your entire body freezing in pleasure as your head went completely blurry. It was like you were in that space forever, before it all came crashing down, every movement, every touch, built upon the last, your rhythm synchronized, bodies attuned to one another. Your breath hitched, a tremor coursing through her frame as the sensation intensified.

Suddenly, it was as if your body had given in completely to the waves of pleasure, an uncontrollable release coursing through you. A warm surge followed, unexpected and thrilling, but it came washing all over you and Agatha’s desk. You fell against the surface, your body soaked with your own arousal. Your professor scoffed at how you’d just squirted all over your fellow students' papers, finding it nothing but amusing.

“Feel better?” Agatha asks as you nod hard enough to break your neck, the enchantment beginning to wear off as you felt the embarrassment reach your cheeks.

“I am so sorry, I’ve ruined all these papers.” You say in genuine panic, lifting yourself up and trying to stack all the papers together before a hand touches your wrist, stilling your hands.

“The only thing ruined here is you.” Agatha smiles, her hand reaching for your chin, her thumb pressing into your cheek as she tries to get you to calm down a little bit.

“I didn’t know I could do that.” You laugh nervously, your usual demeanor falling back into place and Agatha smirks at how the familiar shyness build back up into your voice.

“I have my ways.” Agatha smiles, placing a kiss against your forehead as you tug back at your skirt, trying to stop it from riding up your soaked thighs.

“What like using enchanted quills on your favourite student?” It was your turn to smirk, watching as Agatha’s smile dropped, her brows furrowed in confusion to how you could even know what she had done.

“How did you-”

“I think you forget how good of a student I am.” You grin, knowing that you’d done your research on witchcraft heavily for your final project, you basically knew every trick Agatha had up her sleeve, “I knew from the moment I picked it up.” You blush, your eyes dropping, almost ashamed to be admitting that you liked the thought of your professor being so desperate to fuck you that she’d go as far as using centuries old enchantments just to be able to do it.

Agatha smiled at you, her own cheeks slightly flushed pink at being found out, but delighted in the fact that you let the spell take over you, knowing exactly what you were going to get if you did. “God you’d really do anything wouldn’t you.” You nod in response, both of you smiling widely at each other.

“I think I need another meeting about my project.”

“Tomorrow, 6pm, I’ll be waiting.”

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natashascumslut · 11 months ago

Text

LOUD. Wanda maximoff x fem reader

SUMMARY: Your need for Wanda suddenly gets stronger, and she finally decides to do something about it.

WARNINGS: Smut 18+! MDNI, Top!Wanda, Bottom!Reader, Thigh riding (R), Strap-on (R), Praise kink, Strap-on referred to as ‘cock’.

a/n- This was originally gonna be longer but i lost interest lmao. Not proofread!

You needed Wanda. it was sudden and intense. It wasn't the first time you'd thought of the witch in... not-so-PG ways. But this was different, it wasn't like when you couldn't sleep, and thoughts of Wanda creeped into your mind. This was need, and it was strong. And you also just so happen to be walking down the street after doing a bit of grocery shopping.

The feeling had hit you like a bus, creeping all over you, leaving goosebumps in its tracks, before settling between your legs. You rushed back, desperate to get rid of it. But, to your luck, the exact woman you were just thinking about was standing in the kitchen of the compound, you cursed under your breath. She turned to greet you, but stopped when she noticed your flushed cheeks and hurried movements.

"Are you okay?" She asked, and you nodded quickly, your eyes not meeting hers. You put things away, trying your hardest to be casual, but your mind was wandering. You felt her eyes on you, burning into your skull, and it wasn't making any of this easier. You put the bag you were carrying the groceries in away and sent a tight-lipped smile in Wanda's direction, before leaving the cramped space; it was an open kitchen, looking over the living space with floor to ceiling windows, but it felt cramped when it was only you and Wanda in there. You rushed up to your room, closing the door behind you and taking a second to breathe.

You stared at your bed, contemplating. It was the middle of day, you couldn't just... get off, someone might call you in for a mission or a meeting, you might be needed, someone might walk in; you reached behind you and locked your door.

A soft thump sounded the otherwise quiet room as your head fell back against the door, the aching between your legs hadn't stopped, in fact it'd somehow gotten stronger. You didn't know what to do, but luckily a knock on the door decided your fate, you were going to be asked to join a meeting, and by the time it was over you would feel okay again—

Wanda was standing on the other side of the door, a playful smile tugging at her lips.

"Hey." She said casually, peeking behind you into your room. "Mind if i come in?" You nodded instinctively, but internally cursed yourself, her being in here would only worsen things. You stepped aside as you tried your hardest to get words out of you. She stepped in and the door was closed, the room suddenly felt cramped. You stared at her back, you should move, do something.

"Your thoughts are loud." Shit. "What?" Finally, words! You couldn't see her face, her back still turned to you, but you could hear the smirk in her voice as she spoke. "I said; your thoughts are loud." She turned around, your heart skipped a beat. Maybe, if it skipped a few more beats, you would die and you wouldn't have to be in this situation anymore. That's what you hoped would happen atleast. She stepped closer, your heartbeat got louder.

Fuck, shit, fuck, fuck, fuck- "Calm down." Her voice was quiet as her hand came in contact with your jaw, holding it in place. "Please stop reading my mind." You pleaded, you didn't like it, not one bit. Your thoughts were yours and yours only, you didn't want her poking about in there. "Please." Her grip on your jaw loosened, and her eyes had softened; she had stopped, thank god.

She stared at you for a second, seemingly deciding her next words. "How about i help you out?" She said quietly, her eyes scanning your face for any signs of.. well, anything. It was hard for her to know what you were feeling when she wasn't in your mind with you. You let yourself nod weakly because frankly, you needed her too much to protest. And even if you didn't, you still wouldn't. You'd been pinning after the witch for months now, caught up in everything her. "I'm gonna need words of confirmation, pretty girl." She whispered, but her tone had changed, it almost matched the amount of need you were feeling in your body, almost.

"Yes, please Wanda." Your voice was weak, pathetic and Wanda relished in it, she had known how you felt for awhile now, since you never made much effort to quiet your mind around her, but hearing it from you made it so much... better.

Her hands found your waist, you could hear your heartbeat in your ears, pounding. "Yeah? You need me to help you out?" She purred in a whisper, this definitely wasn't helping your building arousal. You nodded, your eyes darkening. She spun you around so quickly you were pretty sure you got whiplash, but that was the least of your worries right now, because the witch you so desperately needed was leading you towards your bed. She sat herself down, and pulled your tense figure into her lap, straddling her.

"Mh, you're so tense." She hummed, her hands running up and down your thighs. "I'll make you feel better, darling." lord. Her eyes moved from your lips back up to your eyes. "Would you like that?" You'd never seen her so confident before, most likely because she knew she was in control, she knew you wanted this. But that didn't stop it from being insanely attractive. "Yeah." You breathed out, surprised you even managed to talk. She smirked, her face inching closer to yours. You mentally cursed yourself for being so out of it, god she had such a hold on you.

You finally gained an ounce of consciousness and surged the rest of the way till her soft lips were on yours. Your body relaxed into hers and you're pretty sure you let out a moan, because in a matter of seconds she was gripping your hips and pulling you in impossibly closer, her warm body flush against yours. You weren't sure if it was your heartbeat you were feeling, or hers. "Wanda." You whined as your hips unintentionally rutted forward on her thigh, she pulled back, smirking at you. "So needy." She said, her bottom lip lodged between her teeth. Her hands stayed firmly on your hips as she slowly started guiding you to grind down on her thigh, making you gasp. Even with the layers of fabric between you and her thigh, you still felt it.

Her lips trailed across your jaw till they landed on your neck, pressing firm kisses to the length of it as soft whimpers tumbled out your lips. You felt her suck at the soft skin of your neck, forcing a moan out of you. "No marks." You warned breathlessly, but she made no effort to stop. "Wanda." She groaned, stopping. She'd already made a mark, but you didn't really care if you were honest. Your hips moved faster, with her help. But were immediately halted the second you felt something poking at your clothed cunt. She held back a chuckle as she watched your face turn in confusion, a wide smirk playing at her lips.

"I came prepared." She hummed, clearly happy with herself. You raised an eyebrow, panting slightly. Your breath hitched when her hands wrapped around your upper arms, pulling you flush against her yet again. "If you like riding my thigh so much.." She started in a whisper, her warm breath fanning over your ear. "How about you ride me?" You whimpered at her words alone, a shiver coursing the entire length of your body. "Mhm." Was all you could physically get out, a pathetic hum.

It was funny, really. Every time you thought of the witch, you were in control of the situation. But here you were, rendered useless under her gaze. "Yeah, would you like that?" She said under her breath, the heat of the situation clearly getting to her aswell. You nodded pathetically. "Please, Wanda. Let me ride you." You whined, your hands on her shoulders. Her cheeks dusted a light shade of pink as her eyes darkened, immediately pulling you in for a firm yet passionate kiss, pawing at your shirt as you gasped quietly into her mouth. You helped her pull the thin fabric over your head, blushing as you felt exposed.

It didn't take long for your bra to disappear too, disregarded onto the floor with your shirt. A stuttered moan mixed with your heavy breaths as Wanda latched her lips to your nipple, her teeth tugging at it. Your fingers tangled in her soft hair, holding her in place as your back arched, pushing your chest into her. A satisfied groan vibrated against your body, and a unsatisfied whimper left it when Wanda pulled back, a dazed expression on her face as she grinned smugly up at you. "Please." You said huskily, you needed her inside you now. She gently pushed you off her lap, leaving you to stand up on your wobbly legs. She snickered as she watched you trip over your own feet as you tried to keep your balance, before standing up completely straight, blushing.

"I've barely touched you, baby." She teased, her hands finding your bare waist. You avoided eye contact, panting gently. Her fingered trailed down your waist, till they were at the button of your jeans. You watched with heavy eyes as she undid it, sliding the denim down your legs. You felt it was unfair you were almost completely naked, while she was fully dressed. You pouted, grabbing the collar of her shirt and pulling her into you, before stripping the fabric off her body with her help. You ogled at her covered chest until she forced you to look back up at her. Her lips found yours again, and she was stepping out of her jeans. You whimpered as your eyes came in contact with the strap on firmly harnessed to her hips, she smirked smugly.

You pushed her back on to the bed, and she moved up it till her head was on the pillows. She watched as you stripped of the last piece of clothing covering you, a low groan emitted for her lips. You crawled ontop of her, settling on her thighs, right in front of the strap. You stared at it for a second, before moving your eyes back up to hers. "Come on, baby. Aren't you going to be a good girl and ride me, like i know you want to." She husked as her hands found your hips, using it to her advantage to guide you up till you were hovering above the silicone. You whined, the tips of your fingers pressing into her stomach as you tried to steady yourself. It didn't take long before you were sinking down onto it, a loud whimper of her name following the action.

You had never felt so exposed, completely on display, but you were too focused on the witches strap buried deep inside you to care. "Fuck." The breathless curse made you look up at her, her attention was focused solely on your cunt. "You look so pretty on my cock, baby. Such a pretty slut for me." You whined at her words, your hips grinding down on the toy. Your hands landed on her shoulders as your hips moved back and forth, your head hanging between your arms as you breathed heavily. She grunted as your nails dug into the soft skin of her shoulders, and her hands on your hips made you move faster.

"Fuck, Wanda." You whined as your clit rubbed against her lower stomach, adding to the stimulation the toy was already giving you.

"Such a slut for me, hm?" She growled under her breath, her hand wrapping around your throat made your head move back up, looking her dead in the eye as you whimpered weakly. "Mhm, all yours— Fuck!— all yours." She hummed happily at your answer. Your grinding got faster until you decided it wasn't enough for you. You lifted yourself up till the halfway point of the strap, before falling back down. Wanda groaned.

"Keep doing that, baby. Fuck, you take my cock so well, such a good girl." She husked, making you whine. You did as you were told, your skin hitting hers everytime you slammed back down. "Wanda, Please." You moaned, scratching at her shoulders. She got impatient, seeing you ontop of her like this was making her head feel fuzzy. Her fingers dug into her waist as she started thrusting up into you, copying the movements of your hips. "Fuck!" You moaned loudly, your head falling back as your eyes screwed shut. Your moans started coming out in 'ah, ah, ah.' as she pounded up into you, desperate to make you cum.

"Wanda— please, i'm close." You whined, your eyes focused on her face. Her eyebrows were furrowed and her mouth open in deep breaths as she stared at the way your cunt was swallowing the strap as she pushed her hips up. "Yeah?" She breathed, not eyes not moving. "Is my slut gonna cum for me, hm? All over my cock?" She said shakily, her own arousal dripping down her thighs. "Mhm, please."

You moans became high pitched and breathy as she focused solely on making you cum. "Beg for it, like the good girl you are." Her eyes finally moved up to your face, and she swore she could've came just from the sight of your pleasured expression. "Please, Wanda. Please let me cum, i'll be good— i'll be your good slut, please i need it." You got out between moans, her hips somehow moving faster. Just as you thought it couldn't get any better, one of her hands loosened its strong grip on your waist and started rubbing circles around your clit. "Cum for me, baby." And you did, and it was intense. Your moans were loud and broken, and your eyes had rolled back so far she could barely see them anymore.

She helped you ride out your high with the thrusts of her hips before stopping completely, setting you back down on her strap. She sat up, wrapping her arms around you as you collapsed into her body. "Fuck." You panted out, your head on her shoulder. You whined in sensitivity as you shifted slightly, feeling the toy that was still buried inside of you move. "You did so good for me baby, so good." You nodded weakly, your eyes closed as you panted against her shoulder. "I wanna-" You started, out of breath. "I wanna make you feel good."

You whined, lifting your head back up when you finally got your breath back. One of her eyebrows quirked up, a smirk spreading across her lips. "Yeah? You wanna be a good girl and return the favour?" She hummed, so desperate to have you between her legs. You nodded, your eyes heavy. You put your hands on either side of her face and pressed your lips to hers, whining as her tongue slipped past your lips. She helped you off the toy, and you led back on the bed, your breath coming out in heavy pants. You turned to her when you heard her hum happily. "Your mind is a lot quieter." She said, her voice cocky. "Wanda!" You whined, playfully hitting her shoulder. She rolled her eyes with a grin.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximommy #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x you #smutty #smut #elizabeth olsen #marvel #for you #recommended

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silkysoftie · 4 months ago

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𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐭

hitoshi shinsou x female reader

summary: in which hitoshi unexpectedly finds himself getting off to a photo of his classmate.

↳ warnings: 18+, nsfw, ua college au, established friendship, masturbation, light exhibitionism/voyeurism (aged up characters)

a/n: hope you like this lil’ fic! don’t worry toshi stans, i plan to write more content for him in the future :)

Hitoshi was no stranger to 3am, as is natural for an insomniac. Not only did he find himself to be more productive after 9pm, but he’d also grown to enjoy the stillness that settled over the dorms and the darkness that creeped down the hallway outside his door. He often spent this time catching up on homework, or winding down from the long day of training without worry of being disturbed.

It was an uncommonly quiet night. Usually, he could hear Tokoyami, a fellow night owl, up and clattering about in the common area. Occasionally, the pipes in his walls would creak and groan as someone, likely Midoriya coming back from a late night run, showered, but not tonight. Hitoshi couldn’t even hear Y/N, his classmate and friend whom he shared a wall with, shuffling about. Tonight the dorms were noiseless, leading him to believe that all of his classmates were asleep.

Unfazed by the silence, Histoshi busied himself with little tasks just like he would any other night. He spent an hour or two finishing an essay, mended a tear in his capture scarf, and packed up his book bag before deciding to take a well deserved break.

After carefully placing his favorite vinyl on his record player, he stripped off his shirt, threw on a pair of pajama pants, and settled into bed. As the soft music filled the room, he unplugged his phone, intending to browse instagram for a while.

Humming along to the song, Hitoshi scrolled through countless photos and videos of his friends and classmates. Ashido had posted a dance cover that he liked and left a comment under. A little further down Todoroki had uploaded a family photo with his father’s head cropped out. Hitoshi couldn’t help but cackle at that. And then he came upon a very different photo. It was posted a few hours ago the very girl that was asleep just on the other side of his wall, Y/N.

The picture was of her, laughing and smiling as she was being smooshed between the girls from Class 1A. But what made this photo unique was that it was taken during the girls trip to the beach last weekend, and Y/N was in a bikini.

Hitoshi’s eyes widened as he drew in an unusually shaky breath. He’d never seen his classmate in anything less than her school uniform or hero costume which, much to his dismay, was not very revealing. He glanced nervously at the wall they shared, as if she’d somehow phase through it at any moment and bear witness to his wandering eyes.

Clearing his throat, Hitoshi scrolled away from the post, but as he half heartedly watched a work out video Midoriya had uploaded, his mind kept wandering back to the photo.

Though he was alone, Hitoshi tilted the screen a bit closer to his chest, a light blush staining his cheeks. One more peak couldn’t hurt…With a quick search, he’d pulled up her account, bikini pic proudly pinned at the top.

Feeling a bit like a pervert, Hitoshi’s eyes wandered over his friend’s half-naked body. She was much… softer than he expected. The serious mask she put on during combat training had somehow led him to believe she was all sharp edges and strength, but the gentle curves of her torso said otherwise.

Not only was he transfixed by the light sheen of sweat shimmering on her smooth skin, but also by the swimsuit she dawned. It seemed to hug her in all the right places, just barely teasing what might be underneath. And though she was surrounded by plenty of scantily clothed women, he just couldn’t pull his gaze away from her.

A low groan escaped his throat as he threw his hand over his eyes, telltale signs of arousal earning a reaction from his body.

Good lord, he was pathetic. As though he’d never seen a woman before, a simple bikini photo had him pitching a tent.

Sighing, Hitoshi peaked through his fingers at his erection. He’d have to take care of that before he could move on with his night.

Maybe he could use the photo?

No… Y/N was his friend and a rather good one at that. She trusted him. They respected one another.

But the thought of getting off to someone else made his brows furrow in dissatisfaction. He couldn’t, not when she had been the source of his excitement. Hitoshi huffed in frustration. This was no good.

Maybe… maybe she wouldn’t mind? Maybe she intended for him to see this photo when she’d posted it!

It was with these feeble justifications that Hitoshi’s resolve easily crumbled. Without another thought, he hurriedly yanked down his pajama pants, red, aching cock springing free.

Just this once.

Humming with relief, he gripped his throbbing member. Setting a slow pace, Hitoshi’s gaze wandered back down to his phone, the screen illuminating his fucked out expression in the dim room.

Hitoshi stroked his cock lazily as he began committing the shape of her to memory. The subtle slope of her hips, the curve of her breasts... even the way her hair, wind-blown and salty, fell over her shoulders.

Had she always been this beautiful?

A whimper caught in Hitoshi’s throat as his thumb caught on the tip. Without the presence of mind to feel guilty, he imagined it was Y/N’s hands running over him instead. In his mind’s eye he could see her, big, round eyes staring longingly up at him, practically begging for him to take her. Hitoshi moaned at the mere thought.

Would she want to blow him? His eyes nearly rolled back in his head as he envisioned her waiting patiently on her knees for him, mouth open and ready to receive.

Groaning, he thought of all the ways in which he might pleasure her. He’d tie her up, eat her out, and leave her gasping for more. Oh, and he just knew she would sound absolutely exquisite. What he wouldn’t give to hear little whines and whimpers rolling off her tongue as she pleaded for release.

By now, grunts and moans fell freely from Hitoshi’s lips as he panted without care of who might hear. His hand began to move quicker, his movements growing sloppier as he approached his high. Throwing down his phone, Hitoshi gripped the base of his cock tightly. With a desperate whine of his friend’s name, sticky, hot ropes of cum shot out, covering his bare, heaving chest.

Hitoshi raked a shaky hand through his mussed, purple hair as he came down from his high. He hadn’t finished that hard in quite some time and boy, had he missed it. Just as he was beginning to catch his breath, a ‘ding’ from his phone caught his attention.

Not even bothering to clean himself up, he picked up his phone, curious to see who might have texted him this late at night.

A jolt of surprise zapped through him as his screen lit up with the notification.

Y/N

‘Whatcha doin over there? Sure sounds like fun ;)’

Caught off guard, Hitoshi‘s eyes flicked between his phone and his wall. She’d heard him? He’d thought she was asleep…

Maybe he could play this off somehow? Licking his lips nervously, he typed out a quick response.

Toshi

‘Wouldn’t you like to know ;)’

Copying her little winky face, he pressed send, hopeful it implied his volume had been intentional even if it hadn’t.

Y/N

‘Why don’t you come over here and show me?’

Hitoshi had never moved so fast in his life.

tags:

#bnha fanfiction #anime fanfic #bnha #mha #mha fanfiction #my hero academia #oneshot #smut #hitoshi shinsou #shinsou x reader #hitoshi shinso x reader #mha x reader #drabble #hitoshi smut #shinsou smut #hitoshi x reader #hitoshi shinsō #silkysoftie

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d1xonss · 2 months ago

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hii queen! i really think that after daryl got together with his girlfriend he would nonstop reffer to her as m'girl or "mah woman" to everyone who doesnt know that they are together and act so nonchalant about it, even tho he randomly just mention her in a random conversation ( i imagine him doing that after the woodbury people got into the prison and he dont want any of them crushing on his girl), so if you have time you think you could write something like this? sorry if its too long, i love your writtings🥰

My Girl

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 4 (ish)

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : Fluff

✧ Word Count : 2.3k

AN ~ Overprotective Daryl is one of my favs! I love the idea of him calling his significant other "my girl" I think it's too adorable. Thank you so much for the request and the sweetest support! I just recently hit a pretty big milestone in followers so I just wanted to take a moment and thank anyone who has made time to read, like, comment, etc on any of my content. It means the absolute world to me that I'm able to write things that others enjoy so much, and I appreciate all of you with my entire heart!<3 xoxo

It wasn’t everyday you got the chance to meet new people after the world abruptly ended. It was a miracle that you even found any kind of people that you could trust anymore. But as it turns out, your found family grew to be the people you could count on for anything, the one blessing this new world had to offer. You were thankful for them every day.

For quite some time it was just you and that small group for months, from Atlanta, to Hershel’s farm, to the prison where your newfound home was formed. In hindsight you were a little weary to move into such an unusual place, but as it turns out, it grew to be one of the best things that had ever happened to you. Offering much more room and sanctuary, safety from the outside dangers. And after the war with the Governor, the growth only continued from there as a community blossomed.

The people from Woodbury had moved in just after the chaos had settled down, Rick and the rest welcoming them with open arms. But still, even after a couple months, the adjustment of having so many people around constantly was something to get used to. On one hand, you were handling it better than anyone, you had always been more outgoing and friendly even after the apocalypse which was something to be admired. And on the other, Daryl remained the complete opposite. Not that it was much of a surprise though.

You expected him to have his guard up again when it came to the newcomers, not fully trusting their intentions even though all they wanted was to come together. But more than anything, he was even more protective of you.

After all you were very pretty, so absolutely breathtaking that he couldn’t believe you had really chosen him in the first place. But you did. And he’d be damned if he let any of the newcomers around here get the chance to talk you up or try and flirt with you in any way. Maybe he was jealous, but that wasn’t some kind of groundbreaking discovery. Maybe he was a bit overprotective, although that was to be expected when it came to the people he cared about the most. However, there was also a slight chance of him being scared. Scared that if a more good looking and charming guy came into the picture, you would realize that they might be better for you than he ever could be.

But he’d never admit that out loud of course. Instead, he referred to you in any way he possibly could.

“M’ bout to head in and talk to my girl.”

“Nah, I got plans with my girl tonight.”

“My girl made it for me.”

Every single time without fail, he would use those exact words to describe you. You were surprised that people even still knew your name with how frequently Daryl was calling you some different term of endearment. At this rate you assumed the whole community knew of your relations with him with how often he brought you up. But apparently, you had assumed wrong.

It was yet another hot summer day in Georgia, but that didn’t stop the people around the prison from getting to work just as they had been assigned. As a way to help build this place up, Rick had plans set in stone of how to make this sanctuary more safe and livable considering the numbers that were now behind the fences day after day. Keeping them all busy with chores one could say, to help this place continue to run as smoothly as it had before.

Daryl was placed in the fields alongside a few other men, clearing out some space of where the new vegetable gardens would soon grow. The beating sun cascaded down onto them while the dirt that flew up from the ground stuck to any skin that was exposed, making the process a little more difficult. He huffed quietly with every swing of his shovel, his muscles flexing when he pulled the heavy dirt from the ground. He had a good rhythm down, his mind elsewhere as he focused on getting this done as fast as possible.

That was until he heard your name amongst the conversation happening just behind him.

“Man, I’ve been eyeing her since we got here.” a guy named Jared grunted, continuing to shovel some dirt into the pile off to the side whilst he chatted it up with his friends.

They all laughed in agreement to his statement, taking note of where you were outside hanging some laundry on the clothing line, too far away to hear what they were going on about. Daryl noticed how their eyes lingered on you, but he forced himself to turn away and continue the task at hand. He felt it was pointless to get riled up over a few meaningless words and stares when he needed to get this job done.

“I’ve noticed she sometimes serves the food at dinnertime. Maybe I should stay for seconds.” one of the other men said suggestively.

“Yeah, right!” another voice cackled, “Like you have the balls to do something like that.”

Scoff. “Hey, I could if I wanted to. But everytime she looks up with those damn doe eyes it drives me crazy, I clam up or something. And she knows what she’s doing too, she’s asking for it.”

Daryl’s jaw ticked when the topic of you continued to go on and on, almost as if he was completely invisible. Though he tried to stay calm, the annoyance in him bubbled up to the surface with every crude comment or suggestive hint each one of them threw.

Jared then chimed in once more, “I think I’m going to ask her out.”

A jumble of protests followed to which Daryl scoffed in disbelief to himself. Had he really not made it apparent enough that the two of you had been together for months?

“Hey! I’m the one who said something first, so I think I should have first dibs.” Jared announced before moving to dig again.

“Well, what’re you planning on doing?”

He chuckled, “I don’t know, maybe take her for a walk or something. Charm her socks off until she swoons and I can get lucky.”

It was at that point Daryl slammed the head of his shovel into the grass, capturing all of their attention with the way the noise echoed. They watched as he turned around and removed his bandana from his face, getting ready to be done for the day.

“I wouldn’t.” he grumbled lowly, shoving the piece of fabric into his back pocket.

The group of men all just looked at each other in confusion, seconds of deafening silence passing before one of them spoke up. “Uh…why?”

Daryl slowly stalked closer to them, his glare unwavering, “Cause if you keep talkin bout gettin lucky with my girl, I think we’re gonna have a problem.”

Jared’s eyes then widened in realization, feeling singled out as Daryl’s eyes were trained only to him as if he wasn’t scared or hesitant to beat the shit out of him. “Oh- oh shit man, I had no idea-”

“Now ya do,” Daryl interrupted him, getting closer to his face as he made his point crystal clear, “And if I ever see ya ogling her again, I’ll knock yer fuckin teeth to your throat.” he said, his tone low and warning.

The man bobbed his head up and down quickly, “Yep, got it.”

Daryl scoffed at how quickly he seemed to shrivel under his stare, before harshly knocking him back with his shoulder as he passed him to head up toward the prison.

The remainder of the day dragged on and on it seemed like. Daryl didn’t know if it was because he continued to stew in his own frustrations of what happened, or because of the fact that he hadn’t gotten to talk to you all day. He wasn’t sure; but it had to be a combination of both. So he just tried to keep himself busy until the sun went down. Working on his motorcycle that always needed fixing, keeping watch at the gates, basically anything else other than having to work with those pigs he witnessed earlier. He couldn’t manage to wrap his head around why they would talk about any woman like that, let alone you. It almost left him feeling sick.

Though eventually the hour grew late enough to where everyone was turning in for the night, heading back to their selected cellblocks to get some shut eye. You were already sat in bed curled up with a book in your lap, the warm glow of the lantern beside you just bright enough where you didn’t have to squint to read the words on the pages. Lost in the depths of the novel, you almost didn’t hear the familiar sound of clunking, heavy boots approaching your room. But when he pulled back the curtain to enter out of your peripheral vision, your attention was automatically diverted.

“Hey,” you said with a small smile, tucking your bookmark in place, “How was your day?”

Daryl shrugged a bit as he leaned down to untie his shoes, “Was fine. How was yers?”

“Good…it was good.” you nodded, a knowing expression crossing your face, “But you know, I did get some weird looks throughout the day.”

He paused his movements, looking up at you with a raise of his brow, “Looks?”

You nodded again, “Yeah. Almost like you wrote your name right across my forehead or something.”

To that he scoffed, realizing that you had somehow known of the small incident that occurred. Word did tend to spread fast around here but it’s not like it mattered much to him. He was just a little surprised the man was bold enough to have the whole place know of his threat by the time the day came to an end.

When he didn’t verbally respond, you spoke again, “You want to tell me why you apparently tried to kick some guy’s ass?”

He shrugged, “Just another day.” he brushed off simply, plopping down at the edge of the bed near your legs.

“Come on,” you prodded gently as you scooted closer to him, “Just tell me. It’s not like I’ll be upset…if anything, I’m proud.”

Daryl sighed deeply, knowing he couldn’t avoid the topic despite the fact that he didn’t want you to know the things that were said. He couldn’t help but want to protect you from everything. “Some guys were just talkin bout ya.”

His vague response left you confused, “Bad?”

“Just…disrespectful.” he answered, “I didn’t let it go on for long.”

You smiled a little, knowing exactly how he could be, “And what did you say?”

He shrugged, “Told him to stop talkin bout my girl. But you know…it was more threatenin the way I said it to him.”

“Aw.” you cooed as you leaned forward to wrap your arms around him, sweetly kissing his cheek, “Defending my honor again, why am I not surprised?” your tone was playful.

Daryl grunted softly, his cheeks warming and a small smile growing despite his attempts to stop it. He couldn’t deny he liked your affection, even though it was something he was still getting used to. “Can’t help it. Yer too sweet for that bullshit.”

You smiled softly, a part of you loving how protective he could be, it just made you feel all the more special. Never in your life had you been given someone as important as him, someone who would walk to the ends of the earth if you had asked him to. Alongside the many other things you had received in this life, he was by far the best.

You noticed then how his eyes traveled all over your face, silently appreciating you in the orange light. His gaze then drifted down toward your lips as if drawn like a moth to a flame, before glancing back at your eyes, then your lips again.

A small laugh was pulled from you at his obvious request, "You don't always have to ask for permission to kiss me..." you whispered teasingly.

His hand came up to gently trace his thumb along the edge of your jaw, shaking his head slightly, "Wasn't askin." he murmured.

Before you could even react, his lips enveloped yours in a soft embrace, the taste and smell of tobacco on him filling your senses. But you didn't mind; it only made him all the more alluring.

The kiss lasted no longer than a few seconds, but when you pulled back for air, you couldn't help but mutter an, “I love you…”

Those words continued to make his heart flutter in his chest, every time you said that it made him feel incredibly special and valued. Although he still had trouble with saying it back, not being fully used to openly showing how deep his affections went for you, he still managed to prove it in some way. He leaned over to place another lingering kiss against your lips, briefly pulling back to rest his forehead against yours before standing up again to get changed for bed.

But the next morning, he managed to surprise you.

Usually he let you sleep in while he was up during the early hours of the day, gathering his selected weapons to head out for a hunt. Though before he could push himself to leave, he took one last glance back at you, seeing you were still half asleep and bundled under the blankets. He then took the extra minute to crouch down and brush some of the hair away from your forehead, leaving a small kiss there as he mumbled against your skin.

“Love you.” he spoke quietly before he stood back up and headed out of your shared room, hearing the same heavy footsteps echo down the stairs of the cellblock.

And though your eyes were closed, your lips curled into a smile as you let yourself fall back asleep. Feeling comforted in knowing that you were truly his.

~ Thanks for reading!

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endless-ineffabilities · 1 year ago

Text

chemical override

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: i caved and did an actual Ewan fic! Given that the lad is more of a public persona nowadays, I reckon it's fine (?) This is pure self-indulgence for all my Ewan loves. May have a continuation but idk for now, enjoy!!

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

The reader and Ewan are paired for press interviews. Despite barely having any scenes together and only knowing each other in passing on set, the chemistry they share cannot be denied...

Your first round of press takes place in a primped up hotel suite in Paris, thanks to the team at HBO.

You are an up and coming actress, much like some of your costars in the show, but the pressure is heavier on you because you were entering in season two, whereas everyone was already well-acquainted with one another.

Your few scenes were mostly with Jace and Baela, so you grew close to Harry and Bethany.

However, the media team decided to pair you up with Ewan for the day. A little fun initiative was set by the team that a character from the Blacks would be do press with a counterpart from the Greens - hence, yourself and Ewan.

You're nervous as you walk down the hallway, unable to fully pay attention to the instructions your lovely assistant gives you.

She tells you about the different interviewers for the day, bloggers and magazine writers from all over the world. She reminds you that each one will only be for a maximum of 5 minutes, so it shouldn't be too complicated. She smiles and eagerly says, "Take a deep breath, you got this!", as you reach the suite doors.

But in your mind, all you can recall is your first interaction with Ewan, almost a year ago right after the table read. You had nervously blurted out to him that Aemond is your favourite character, after he just asked, "How are you?". He laughed, said thank you, before he was pulled away in conversation by Tom.

You pray to the fictional Westerosi gods that things will fare better today. That you won't get all tongue-tied when those steel blue eyes land on you.

Upon entering the room, the team is quick to fuss over you. Sometimes you forget that you're actually an actress now. A celebrity, some might say. It all feels surreal and you have a inkling it won't ever stop being this way.

Ewan is already seated in front of the camera, and he stands to give you a hug as you finally walk over.

"Hey there, how are you?" he smiles widely, smelling like cigarettes and something muskier as he wraps his arms around you.

Unroll your tongue. Rework your brain. Calm down.

"Hey, Ewan!" you respond. "I'm doing great, happy to see you again."

"Well, I only wish we could have had more time together on set." Ever the gentleman, he gestures for you to take your seat before he does the same. "But next season perhaps? Who knows?"

"Oh, sure." You settle in, pleased by the fact that your chairs are only about a foot apart. "We can both look forward to my character giving Aemond the arse kicking he deserves."

He laughs, eyes glinting with mischief. "Come on now, I was thinking our characters are actually quite compatible, no?"

"Well, I sure wouldn't want to step on Alys' shoes. She'd probably curse my character all the way to Yi Ti."

"Hmm," he hums, biting his lip. You can't help but hear Aemond when he does that. "I say you can always count on Aemond and Vhagar to come to the rescue of a beautiful maiden such as yourself."

Well, you'll be damned. Ewan, while still an introvert of his own sort, is as charming as can be. If he's turning it on to get himself hyped for the press, it's working.

It's definitely working on you, to say the least.

The media manager gives the signal for the first interview to begin, and a reporter walks in, all ready with prepared script in hand.

"Here we go," you mutter, facing forward.

"Good luck," Ewan replies.

You both shake the reporter's hand, and he introduces himself as Jared.

"So guys," Jared begins. "Why don't we start with you telling me a little bit about what we can expect from your characters this season?"

The question is easy, and it doesn't take long for you and Ewan to think it through. Jared asks a few more basic questions, before drawing the attention more to you.

"When you watched season one, did you have a favourite character?" he asks you.

You smile, "Oh, I mean, I have to say - and Ewan already knows this, by the way - that Aemond was my favourite character."

"Was?" Ewan says, feigning shock. "Unacceptable."

"Was... Is... " you shrug, rolling your eyes playfully, earning a laugh from Jared. "I think I might be more a Daemon girl now."

"Oh!" Jared exclaims happily. "Does Matt know about this?"

"I'll be sure to tell him - "

Ewan interjects, shaking his head at you, "There's no need to tell him, because I'll convert her back to Team Aemond in no time, trust me."

"Daemon is awesome, though," you say to him, smiling.

"Sure." Ewan makes a face like that fact doesn't matter. Wasn't he the one who said that Daemon would be the character he would most like to play if not Aemond?

"And Caraxes is my favourite dragon." You share a look with Jared, hoping he would agree.

"Yes!" Jared says. "Caraxes is the best dragon in the show, in my opinion."

"Ah, you're both wrong," Ewan says. "My Vhagar is the oldest and baddest dragon in all of the land."

"My Vhagar, he says," you joke. "Seems like someone still hasn't shed Aemond for this press tour."

"And I never will, darling." His gaze is intense when he turns to you, and you clear your throat to fight the warmth rushing to your cheeks.

"Alright, they're giving me the wrap-up," Jared thankfully breaks the tension. "It was a pleasure talking to you guys, congratulations on the new season!"

One interview down, and your nerves have already considerably subsided. Ewan tapping your arm to start up a conversation once more surely helps in distracting you.

In the best damn way possible.

"How do you think we did? That wasn't too bad, was it?"

"I think we did quite well," you casually offer a high five, but your heart skips a beat when Ewan interlaces your suspended hands for just a moment.

"I'm glad they paired me with you," Ewan says, after releasing your hand. You hold on to the armrests to keep your fingers from twitching.

"I am, too," you admit. "I am a fan of you, after all, but I think you already know that."

He blushes, "Well, that's not a bad thing. I think you're a fantastic actress. I must have seen your first film a good ten times."

"You mean my first and only film," you add humbly. "But thank you."

"Only film for now," he affirms. "No doubt this is only the beginning for you, darling. With your talent and your charisma, I'm sure you have potential scripts piled up already."

"I could say the same for you! Have you seen what your fans say about you online? You're the internet's new boyfriend, Ewan Mitchell."

The media manager announces the next interview, but Ewan follows up with a response for you under his breath, "I have seen some things. But when I have a girlfriend, I'll make sure she won't have to share me at all."

Oh, so apparently he is single. But wait - why is he telling you this?

You don't get to mull over that thought. For the time being, the next interview starts and you make sure you do a good job at what you're paid to do - promoting the series.

Not daydreaming about getting with a costar, for heaven's sake. Stay professional.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

You feel lightheaded after finishing the seventh - or had it been the eighth? - interview.

Your assistant delivers a coffee to you during the twenty-minute break. Ewan had stepped out to the balcony to have a smoke, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

He certainly is everything you expected him to be, and so much more. Insightful, cheeky, dedicated. An artist, through and through. He was in the business for all the right reasons, passion and respect for the craft.

If he had any flaws, you weren't privy to them yet. If there are any reasons for you not to be attracted to him, you didn't know what those were yet.

And with every flirtatious remark and pointed smile, you can't deny the hope blooming in you.

"Hey," he reappears, pulling you out of your musings. "I hope you don't mind that I smell of smoke."

No, you didn't, not when it's him.

"Don't worry about it," you reassure him. You tilt your head forward to take a sip of your coffee, but a lock of your hair falls in front of your face. Annoyed, you think to reach for it, but Ewan beats you to it, tucking it back in place.

"There you go, darling," he croons, gesturing for you to proceed in drinking.

"Th-thanks." His eyes don't leave yours as you take a slow sip.

"So," you say, desperate to break the silence, "which interview did you enjoy the most so far?"

"How can I possibly choose? I mean, I really liked the one with ComicSociety, the guy that said our characters have a lot of chemistry and should get together next season. He's right, I already told you!"

"Ohhh, sure, that will go down really well with the Blacks and Greens."

He smirks, "I don't see why not?"

"For one, Aemond is ensnared by Alys, and my character will never give up fighting for Rhaenyra. I just don't see it happening, Ewan."

"Right," he mutters thoughtfully, "there is still Alys in the picture."

"Still in the picture? With the amount of steamy scenes you two have lined up for season three, I'd say she will be Aemond's entire picture in and of herself."

"Hmm," he glances at you once, then looks down. Dare you think it, does he look disappointed?

"But hey," you add lightly, "maybe we can talk to Ryan and he can flip the entire script just for our characters."

"Yeah," his cheeky smile resurfaces, "maybe you can take Alys' place."

Take the place of Alys? Of Alys. Is he insinuating...

"Next round of interviews, guys!" The media manager announces to the room.

"Here we go again, darling," Ewan squeezes your hand once, before putting on his professional face once more.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

By the end of it all, not even caffeine can perk you up. You were exhausted, you and Ewan having finished four full hours of press.

Your assistant comes to your aid, ready to direct you back to your own hotel room.

"This has been such a pleasure, Ewan, really." You stand, this time initiating the hug.

He squeezes you gently, humming in your ear. When you pull apart, he says, "I honestly wouldn't mind trudging through hours and hours of press with you."

That's sweet of him. You're too tired to mask the warmth that rises to your cheeks. "And I feel the same. Today couldn't have gone any better."

"Truly, and listen, maybe we could - "

"Ewan!" The manager approaches. "I'm so sorry to rush with this, but we need to film just a quick soundbite with you for Aemond. Just two to three questions for the Max Tiktok account?"

"Oh, okay - " Ewan is reluctant to turn away from you.

"Perfect! If you could just stand there by the windows please..." The manager already has him by the arm, directing where he has to go.

"We have to go," your assistant says. "Still have to prep for tomorrow."

"I'll see you soon, Ewan!" you call out to him. "Thanks again."

He gives a half-hearted wave, dejected as he watches you walk out of the room.

"That wasn't too bad," you share with your assistant as you enter the elevators. "Not bad at all, actually."

"Oh, you did so well," she compliments. "It definitely helps with the press that you and Mr. Mitchell have such insane natural chemistry."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

In the calm of your hotel room, you get ready for bed.

Just when you're about to finish with your nightly routine, your phone rings from your bedside table. You're quick to rush over, thinking it could be your assistant or your manager, with an urgent update about work.

But no - it's an unknown number. A UK number, as it appears.

Confused, you click answer anyway, putting it to your ear with a tentative, "Hello, who is this?"

"Hi, darling."

"Ewan?"

"Yeah, uhm, I hope I didn't disturb you - "

"Not at all," your answer comes out in a rushed breath.

"I also hope you don't mind that I got my assistant to ask your assistant to give me your number? It's what I wanted to ask you before you left today."

"Oh." You feel fully awake now, by some miracle, butterflies finding home in your stomach. "I don't mind. I... I should have given you my number, anyway. I have most of the cast's, in case I need to get a hold of you guys."

"Hmm, right," he says from the other end. You hear him calmly breathing, the sound strangely comforting, and wonder if he can hear the same from you.

He says, "I just wanted to keep hearing your voice. Didn't get enough of it today," and your heart just about stops.

"Oh. Okay," is all you are able to respond with.

"What are you doing?"

"Just... just getting ready for bed." Phone pressed to your ear, you shuffle around the room, putting some things back in place.

He says nothing for a few seconds, but you still hear his breathing, and some shuffling in the background. It occurs to you that he might just be as nervous as you are now.

Maybe.

"Listen," he finally says, "do you want to hear my pitch to Ryan about why our characters should get together next season?"

A genuine laugh escapes you. He sure is persistent. Playful, sure, but you're definitely willing to play along.

"Let's hear it."

"First," he says, "you have to renounce Daemon as your favourite character - "

"Not a chance."

" - and swear your love for Aemond."

"Keep dreaming."

He laughs, and you can only picture the corners of his eyes crinkling.

"Aww darling," he teases, "don't you love me?"

💌 part two - part three

The OGs will know that the final line is a nod to my first ever Aemond fic! 🖤

Did this slightly delay my series works? Yes, yes it did. Do I regret it? For Ewan frickin Mitchell, I would never ~

#ewan mitchell x reader #ewan mitchell imagine #ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen #hotd #house of the dragon #chemical override #aemond targaryen x reader

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getaapologist · 4 months ago

Note

This just popped into my head: Geta has trouble falling asleep (because why wouldn't he), and so he wanders around the gardens and hears quiet singing and comes across a young woman (slave or whatever) and she gets him to fall asleep; she's not allowed to leave his side after that.

I hope I answered this in some kind of way that makes sense. Hope you like it!

(also I know these are big ass pictures (thank you @inseparabiles) but this stupid smile is too perfect to not put here.)

Fitful Sleep

Emperor Geta x reader

Warnings: none, perhaps implied nudity?

Sweat collected at his hairline, along the back of his neck, and anywhere that his skin touched. The haze of sweltering heat that had settled over the city throughout the day didn’t dissipate once the sun disappeared. It somehow got even worse at night. There was very little breeze gently pushing at the thin linen curtains separating Geta’s bedroom from the terrace.

Sleep only came to him in short bursts, something that grew more irritating each time he awoke drenched in sweat, the humidity trapping it against his skin. He would wake only for long enough to move over to the other side of the bed, now slightly cool, mostly dry, and collapse, gradually falling asleep again.

Ten times. Ten times he woke, before he had enough. He felt mad, launching himself out of bed to stand out on the terrace, the barest hint of a breeze doing wonders to his sweat-slick skin. He couldn’t be bothered with a robe, it was far too hot. There was no one to see him anyway. As he leaned against the railing, he started dozing off.

After the third such time, he moved into his room, looking around for a solution. He spotted the ornate chaise, and immediately made up his mind. Too impatient to summon someone to move it for him, he dragged the heavy piece of furniture out to the terrace, pushing it up against the railing. He laid down on it, the fabric a bit too warm for his liking, but it would have to do.

As he began to relax for once, on the fringe of true sleep, he heard a sound. Something soft, drifting on the breeze. He lifted his head, looking down to the gardens below through the posts of the railing. Eyes tracing over the courtyard, they slowed to a crawl as they first noticed a soft blue robe, hanging off the shoulder of the siren.

There was a lot of bare skin, more than was appropriate for someone outside a bedchamber. He knew he shouldn’t look, he should lie back down, but he was curious. Surely this person was suffering from the same ailment. His suspicions were confirmed when they dipped down to cup some of the water from the fountain they sat on the edge of, and let it fall from their hands over their bare calves.

Geta wondered intensely if the water was cool. If the sigh that reached his ear was any indication, it was. And as they gathered more of it up, wetting their hands to press them to their neck, shoulders, the genuine consideration he gave to going down there himself was alarming. He understood the reason they might have thrown caution to the wind and gone out there in such a state. He felt warm, heated through in a different way, from the inside out.

The most he could see of them was their bare shoulders, the robe kept up enough to hide their back from him. But it was enough to fill his mind with delirious, feverish thoughts. Burning heat like the sun bearing down, like sitting too close to a fire. Smooth, damp skin, already hot beneath his hands, his lips.

The humming roused him from his thoughts, and he caught a glimpse of their profile for a moment before they turned back around. It was branded in his mind. He thought he might know that face, but he wasn’t sure. He forced himself to quiet his mind again, knowing that above all else, he needed to sleep. If he was to be of use to anyone the following day, he needed to close his eyes.

The tune changed to one he recognised, though he wasn’t sure where he knew it from. After enough time, he stopped trying to place it and let himself relax.

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

The heat had abated at some point in the night. Now, as Geta passed through the gardens, his eyes lingered on the fountain, on where the mystery person had sat. He could picture them sitting there still, skin shining with drops of clear water under the bright moonlight.

“Yes, well it’s a miracle that the worst of it seems to be over,” someone commented, laughter echoing.

Geta looked up, examining the throng of people lingering in the gardens. Was he looking for his siren? Checking on Caracalla? He couldn’t say. But as he scanned, he spotted a shoulder slope that he thought he recognized.

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

You hadn’t been given a moment of peace since the gathering started. It wasn’t enough that you had barely slept the night before, just like everyone else, but it seemed the discomfort from the night before bled over into tonight.

All of the staff were so frantic, so frazzled after the heatwave that what should have been easy work became all the more complicated as tempers rose and communication faltered. There had been three dropped amphorae, and one beautiful green glass pitcher shattered. As a household, they were never this clumsy.

Thankfully, the twin Emperors seemed to be distracted enough that they wouldn’t hear of this until tomorrow. You knelt and gathered the bigger shards as carefully as you could. Some of the glass disposed of, and the rest of it being swept up by another, you turned to return to the party, to see what else might need doing.

You collided with a chest, hands reaching out to steady yourself, an apology ready to begin tumbling from your lips. It died on your tongue as you locked eyes with him. Geta.

“Are you alright?”

He seemed genuinely concerned, and though you were new here, you assumed rightfully that it was a rarity.

“I’m fine, thank you, Emperor.” As instructed, you averted your eyes from his warm brown ones, ignoring the way his hand lingered on your upper arm.

“Look at me,” he instructed, his voice slightly firm.

After a moment of warring with yourself, you did. He was smiling, a sight far too beautiful to comprehend.

“Are you new here?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. His eyes traveled over your shoulder, your neck.

You found yourself nodding, having a hard time stringing words together. He was intimidating, as he should be, one of the co-Emperors of Rome. But it wasn’t his title that intimidated you. It was the way he was appraising you.

“You helped with dinner yesterday, yes? I was trying to figure out where I’d seen you before.”

You nodded, letting out a cautious smile. He wanted to remember where he had seen you before? Why?

“The fountain… It sure seemed refreshing.” He was teasing you. “I considered walking down to join you myself.” His words were tinged with amusement, a glint in his eye confirming it.

An overwhelming wave of embarrassment and slight fear washed over you. You were only here what, a few days? Already in trouble. It was stupid, you knew it was stupid when you did it, but you would have actually lost your mind if you were made to suffer another moment in the sweltering windowless room.

Geta’s laugh ripped you from your thoughts.

“You saw me?”

“Emperor,” he spoke sternly, raising an eyebrow, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his full lips.

“What?”

“‘You saw me, Emperor,” he corrected.

“E-Emperor,” you repeated, concerned that you were about to be dismissed.

“Yes, I did.” He let his smile spread. “What was that tune you were humming?”

“Just something my mother used to sing to me,” you answered. An eyebrow raise reminded you. “Emperor.”

He looked away for a moment before returning his attention to you. “I do think that you would be better suited elsewhere.”

Oh no. You were being dismissed.

“I think I will have need of you in my personal quarters. A good tune may come in handy during sleepless nights.”

Boiling hot mortification poured over you, your mind making many leaps and assumptions. He was unaffected, still smiling, still more handsome than he should have been.

“Don’t look so scared,” he chuckled. “Do you know how to make a bed? Draw a bath?” His tone was slightly mocking, but full of amusement.

You nodded, watching him carefully, the mortification giving way to something quite different. Something you couldn’t, or wouldn’t, name.

“Good. I’ll expect to see you later.” He looked satisfied with himself, his gaze still approving, if a bit intrigued. And after one last look, he turned, walking off further into the gardens, back to where the party was concentrated. As he passed the fountain, he looked back over his shoulder at you, a grin on his face.

#emperor geta x reader #gladiator ii x reader #joseph quinn x reader #gladiator 2 x reader #emperor geta #tried to keep this neutral

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gloomwitchwrites · 11 months ago

Note

The 141 boys and the TikTok trend “everybody knows that I’m a good girl officer”

Firstly, I want to say that in this house, we say "fuck the police (derogatory)" every single day. However, I will indulge in this instance because it's our 141 boys and I think the trend with them would be absolutely smoldering. But I will change it up slightly, and pull from my Bodyguard!141 AU Post as well as lean into a security detail aspect for this one.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (MDNI): swearing, suggestive themes, dirty thoughts, flirting, secret relationship

Word Count: 1.5k

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

Price adjusts the ear piece in his right ear.

The blasted thing doesn’t fit right. It keeps slipping. It’s irritating but it’s manageable. Not like Price is running anywhere. At least, he doesn’t plan on moving too quickly. His job is to stand and observe. To make look after a certain MP’s daughter, and to take her back to the hotel when she tells you she’s ready to leave.

You are no stranger. Far from it.

And it goes far beyond the grounds of appropriate behavior.

Price has completely stuck his foot in it, bedding you when he isn’t supposed to. Stealing kisses in dark corners, and fucking you behind closed doors. He was hired by your father to look after you, and instead, John has taken it much further than that.

But he doesn’t fucking regret it.

Not at all.

John adjusts his ear piece and scans the room from left to right. You’re not in sight but that doesn’t bother him. This ballroom is packed full of rich schmucks who couldn’t give a shit about him.

He scans the room again, and this time he finds you.

You’re walking toward him, hips moving in a sultry sway that steals John’s resolve. You’re gorgeous. Perfect. And he can’t stop staring.

The corner of your mouth quirks with amusement, and John straightens his shoulders, making himself appear bigger. He needs to look professional. He needs to look like he’s not thinking about all the ways he wants to fuck you.

But it’s hard to focus, and when you approach, you glance over your shoulder at him, words leaving your mouth that John doesn’t entirely catch at first. Your foot pops in the air, and the friend you’re walking with giggles, her hand pressed to her painted lips.

Everybody knows that I’m a good girl, officer.

A good girl.

Yes. You are.

You’re John’s good girl.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

High-stakes missions have always been part of Kyle’s life. It is what he knows. What he thrives on. But between the missions, Kyle keeps working, and not with SAS.

Kyle mostly signs up for security detail at different places around London. Sometimes he might work as a bouncer for a club, or be monitoring people entering a music venue. Sometimes the gigs are swanky, and sometimes they’re not. Kyle doesn’t really mind as long as he’s paid.

That’s the whole point.

He’s saving. Wants to buy a house. Maybe find someone to settle down with. Life is going by fast. He needs some stability amongst all the violence.

And tonight? Tonight, he’s nothing more than a glorified security guard.

He looks the part in all-black tactical gear, and he isn’t the only one. There is an entire group of them all lined up in front of large windows, creating a bit of barrier. The event coordinator expected protests. All there is are a handful of people across the street with signs. They’re harmless.

Kyle doesn’t pay them any mind.

He does watch the regular people walking by on his side of the road. Some people are here for the event and others are just passing through.

Standing on the corner nearby is a small group of young women. They’re all dressed up like they’re heading to the clubs. Kyle pretends he’s not looking, but that would be a lie. There is one he keeps glancing at.

You’re fucking stunning. A beauty.

But Kyle has to remain calm. Aloof. He’s not here for you or anyone except the job at hand.

“Go over there.”

“I can’t!”

“Girl. He is so cute. Do it.”

Kyle casually turns his head, only to find you striding toward him. His throat drops into his stomach, and you waltz past him, pausing just to his right, flipping your hair, and batting your eyelashes at him and then your friends.

“Everybody knows that I’m a good girl, officer.”

Your friends scream, and then you hurriedly run back to them as if you’ve done something you shouldn’t.

A good girl? Sure you are, love.

Kyle smirks and looks away, doing his best to hide a growing smile.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon sits in the driver seat of a large, black SUV. His fingers are itching for a cigarette. He needs the smoke—to feel the burn. To rid himself of some of this agitation.

It’s not annoyance. It’s not frustration. And it sure as shit isn’t anger.

No. Simon has a fucking rager in his pants, and his thoughts are filled with images of you. You—who he’s supposed to be protecting. Escorting you to and from events, pushing back the crowd, and keeping a firm lock on where you are at all times.

The black dress you’re wearing tonight is made of flimsy material. It clings to every curve and swell. Simon is hungry—a feral animal that couldn’t stop stalking you throughout the event.

Now, he’s about to take you back to your hotel. And he knows you’ll invite him in. He knows that the little black dress you wear will be nothing but a pile on the floor in due time.

But this need in his bones isn’t just Simon’s fault. You were a fucking tease all evening. You were bad. Openly flirting with other men in front of him, drinking more than you should have, and genuinely being a little terror to his sanity. All this behavior will only get you punishment. A punishment he’s happy to deal out once he has you behind a closed door.

A car door clicks, and Simon glances up, expecting to see you slide into the backseat. You’re not there. You’re next to him. In the front passenger seat.

“What the fuck are you doing?” asks Simon, his knuckles white as he grips the steering wheel.

You shrug and settle in. “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you reply, leaning on the middle armrest.

Simon can smell your perfume. “Buckle up,” he growls, and you do so casually, as if you don’t hear his irritation.

He pulls out into traffic, and the moment the two of you are clear of the building, Simon feels your hand on his thigh moving dangerously close to his dick.

“This bad behavior needs to stop.”

Your body shifts and you sing-song the next words out of your mouth. “Everybody knows that I’m a good girl, officer.”

The words are bit slurred. You’re completely pissed, and Simon cannot help but laugh. No punishment then. Not tonight at least.

But tomorrow?

Absolutely.

John "Soap" MacTavish

This isn’t Johnny’s usual job, but it’s easy work.

Usually, hired security and local police take care of concerts and sporting events, but the military has been called in for this one, and Johnny is fine with that. Again, it’s easy work, and they’re paying him more for it.

He stands in one spot, scans the crowd, and acts casual while looking downright intimidating. The intimidation isn’t hard. They have him completely decked out in all-black tactical and balaclava included. All you can see of Johnny are his eyes.

It’s fun, actually. When he put it all on, he pretended to be Simon, only to receive a swat upside the head for it from the man himself.

Johnny has his hands casually resting on his bulletproof vest. No one is really looking at him, and those that do quickly look away. But there is one he can’t stop looking at.

You’re so damn cute, and you can’t stop glancing at him either. You’re with friends, and you keep smiling in his direction. If this were any other night, Johnny would approach you, flirt a bit, maybe even ask for your number. Might even take you home with him if you were open to it.

But Johnny is on the job, and he can’t afford to do that.

As you move closer to him through the crowd, one of your friends keeps saying something to you, moving their hands as if urging you to do something. Johnny isn’t sure what, but he’s curious. You don’t look like danger, and there is nothing about your demeanor that says that you’re looking to cause trouble.

Maybe it’s the balaclava. That seems to be a thing now.

As you approach, there is a pop of your foot, a quick flip of your hair, and a stunning smile. Your friend holds up her phone and you turn away from Johnny briefly to say “Everybody knows that I’m a good girl, officer.”

I bet you fucking are, love.

Your friends giggle with pleasure, and you quickly move away from him but not before you glance over your shoulder one last time, mouthing a silent “thank you.”

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killapunk · 9 months ago

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help amal's family get back on their feet and make it safely out of gaza

through constant displacement at the hands of the israeli occupation forces, amal (@amalashuor) alongside her husband and baby daughter, have been forced to use the money they gathered with hopes to evacuate on living necessities, as prices are extremely high in gaza. imagine having to muster up eight hundred dollars for a tent when you've already lost everything, and then have that tent go up in flames.

amal details everything in her post here. i urge you to read and spread it.

she and her family have gone from rafah, to khan younis, to deir al-balah, and are now being told to leave again. where is there to go? they have no way to pay for anything save for our donations, and at this rate, with having to settle down in a new place every few months and needing to provide for their baby girl (baby products are expensive at the best of times, imagine how much they must cost to achieve during an active genocide), they'll just need to keep bleeding money unless we can get them out of there once and for all.

amal currently has 43,208 euro out of a goal of 50,000. if 2k people see this and each give 5 euro, she can meet her goal. if all the people who saw my silly toro osborne post each gave 1 euro, she'd have more than enough. amal has reached out to me personally for help, and now i am reaching out to you, because i know this post will not gain any traction without you. if you can't donate, please reblog. honestly, reblog anyway. tumblr might flag me for this and i have no visibility as it is. amal was sweet enough to worry about my safety when i told her i might take a bit to make this post due to having a fever. my safety, while she's in the middle of the biggest humanitarian crisis of my lifetime.

please help. we can make a difference.

#free palestine #free gaza #help a family in need #gfm

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fanzou · 5 months ago

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I know a lot of ppl write zoro vs sanji competing for the reader but what about zoro and nami both wanting the same girl. Just an idea, you don't have to do this request! Your writings great💕

The Girl is Mine

✗ Pairing(s): Sanji x Fem!Reader, Nami x Fem!Reader

✗ Summary: You try resolving a conflict between your two very good friends, only to find out you’re the sole reason they’re having issues in the first place.

✗ Total WC: 4.1K

✗ CW: SMUT. Tipsy, slightly drunk sex, threesome, p on p sex, p in v sex, voyeurism (Nami), Sanji is a perv (a secret to no one) [Let me know if I missed any]

✗ A/N: Hi anon. I hope you don’t mind but, I did Sanji instead :3, only cuz I feel like the tension would be so much better. Might have to do Zoro soon though! I enjoyed this so so much. Thank you !!!

“S’cuse me Sanji, can I please talk to you for a minute?” Nami walks towards him in a confident stride, she settles her hand on her hip.

He looks at her with a warm smile, “You can always talk to me, love. What’s on your mind?” He puts down whatever he has in his hand, as to not given Nami any divided attention.

She chuckles, almost with underlying malice, “You know, I can see that you’re getting an awful lot closer to…” she takes her harsh stare off of him, and softly looks over to you, focused on your own little activity and completely oblivious to the situation unravelling.

Sanji is starting to pick up on what this about. "Oh yeah, we've definitely gotten close." he crosses his arms.

“I just wanted to let you know that she’s mine.”

He lets a sharp exhale of his breath out as an attempt to laugh.

“No no, she’s mine.”

It goes without saying that Sanji and Nami have been acting very weirdly toward each other these days.

Sanji, ever the sweetheart who would quite literally drop everything for Nami is now giving her the coldest of shoulders. You’d ask him and he would just wave you off, “It’s nothing, beautiful. Everything’s just fine.” But his eyes betray him; he’s glaring at Nami across the room who reciprocates his same stare.

You ask Nami the same, she gives you a very loving look that you don’t question, “Don’t worry your pretty little head over it.” As she tucks your hair behind your ear with her delicate and soft hand. The gesture makes you blush a bit, but you don't let it get you sidetracked from the initial rising issue at hand; What happened between the two?

Everyone’s just as confused as the other, to tell the truth. It’s not news for Nami to act a little harshly towards him or anyone for that matter, but Sanji's new coldness was a different story. Sanji treated you three girls on this ship like you all were walking Goddesses and if you asked him, he would probably say that that was exactly what you all were.

It was out of character, and almost unsettling to everyone, even to Zoro, who would do anything but concern himself in the shitty cooks stupid troubles. His words exactly, when you tried talking to him about it.

Still he’ll make meals normally, set the plate down like he always would in front of her. Really the only new thing was the lack of word exchange, and you almost feel bad watching it unravel. What happened that was that bad? The thought made your heart ache.

Your turn for night watch was up, and you could finally go back to sleep, you weren’t so sure that you could though, with the tension amongst the ship giving you a foreign anxiety you didn’t think possible. You try shoving it in the back of your mind for now, for your hard work for the day was over, and you could finally rest up.

Robin took over and you kindly thanked her before making your way to your shared room for three.

The night air was chilly and even walking through the corridor to find your room made your body shudder, you quickened your pace and immediately twisted the handle to the door and there she was; Orange hair and body lost in the sheets, sleeping so soundly.

You and Nami shared a bed, it wasn’t weird. Practically everyone shared everything on the Sunny. Hell, sometimes you'd even bathe together with her or even Robin to perserve some hot water. Sharing a bed helped you sleep better due to an excessive amount of nightmares you had, and you insisted that since Robin was older than the two of you she deserved to get her own bed out of the sheer respect you had for her. So it worked out for everyone. Especially for Nami, who always needed you nice and close anytime you’d join her in slumber.

And when you decided to remove most of your clothing and tried your best to move as slow as possible as to not get her up, she wakes inevitably, pulls you impossibly close as she puts her leg around yours. “Missed you.” She says.

“You saw me not too long ago.” You giggle in response. But you tighten your hold on her, and you two fall asleep not soon after.

When morning came, you swore the most delectable smell came from the kitchen, it smelled so good that you almost felt like you'd fly following the string of air attached to it. You try peeling Nami off of you to see what Sanji made that you had the privilege of tasting today, but like always, she awoke with you.

“Morning Nami.” You say with your back turned to her trying to get your clothes back on. “Hey.” She says, stretching her arms out to help wake her up a little bit. “You wanna come eat?” You ask finally getting up, but her demeanor drops at the mention of food. It seems that way anytime you try mentioning anything that had to do with him, and your disappointed expression makes a return once again.

You sigh, and decide to give an attempt to talk to her about it once again,

“Nami, I don’t know what he did to make you so upset but you know you can talk to me, right?” You walk over to the bed again and put your hand on her shoulder as a means to comfort her into the thought. Immediately picking up on your insinuation, “You worry too much. Nothings wrong, okay?” She takes the hand on her shoulder in her own and caresses it slowly.

You let out another sigh, but you guess you had to deal with it for another day.

Soon after you and Nami join the table together, you engage in conversation with the rest of the group while waiting for today’s starting meal that’s making all of your stomachs scream. But you feel unsettled, Nami and Sanji are yet again, still uncomfortable with each other. It’s making you zone out thinking about it. It’s making you think a lot more than you want to.

You feel her hand snake onto your lap, she sees the worry in your face. You turn to meet her eyes at the intimacy of her hand and you instantly feel so much better.

For a second, she’s a little too close to your inner region and you can’t deny the goose bumps that litter the skin of your lower body.

What caught you by complete surprise was the sudden movement of Sanji’s body between both of yours, setting out plates for the both of you.

“Alright ladies, you enjoy now.” He puts a hand onto your back and starts to move it in circles, completely neglecting the woman beside him in his presence. “Let me know if you want anymore, beautiful. I’ll always have enough for you.” He winks. And your face is dusted with an obvious red.

When you look at Nami, she's already picking off her plate a little too harshly.

You really do want to ask her if she was doing okay, you really do. You felt terribly about it. About being incapable of relieving her and Sanji from whatever stresses they had going on, but thankfully Franky’s conversation pulls you back into reality and you can forget about the awkward exchange for now.

You just hold her hand under the table for now.

The night wind is howling and the Sunny’s grass feels too comfortable to move away from, tonight you guys drink to your accomplishments as the crew goes another night without conflicts. You’re sprawled out on top of the grass, counting stars one by one with a bottle of wine in your left hand.

Zoro’s already plastered and he’s making it everyone’s problem, especially his blonde nemesis who he keeps taunting right now. Sanji just wants a way out so he can make his way towards you before a certain someone does. He’s relieved to see that she’s making an effort to chat it up with Robin in her already tipsy state. So he ignores Zoro harshly and without any guilt and makes his way towards you.

When he plagues your vision and you can no longer admire the beautiful stars, but instead his face, you feel equally satisfied.

“Feelin’ good down there, princess?” He’s looking at you with a cigarette in his mouth.

“‘Can’t even begin to explain it.”

Alas, all good things came to an end, you didn’t want to converse with your friend while you were about to doze off. So you sit up straight and cross your legs, urging him to sit next to you by patting the patch of grass. “How’s your night going?”

He tucks the cigarette between his fingers and lets out a huff, “Better, now that I’m here with you.” You giggle at that.

He really never fails to make you blush, especially now that you’re the slightest bit under the influence, wine bottle aside you as proof.

But inevitably, like you have been cockblocking him about this for the last few days, you ask him about Nami and, how you’re here for both of them and, how you don’t want anything to happen to either of them. It makes him draw a really strong pull from his cigarette, “Dear, there’s nothing wrong.” He looks away.

But you’re starting to get fed up with it at this point. Same answer from both of them, it’s tiresome. “Sanji, if you’re not gonna be honest with me you can walk away.” You say sharply, he can’t deny how the firmness in your voice didn’t turn him on a tad. Normally he would take you more seriously but because of his own excessive drinking, he really wants nothing more than for you to get more and more assertive with him.

He sighs, throwing the cigarette bud overboard. “You wanna talk about it in private?” He says, and you’re eager to pull him somewhere where he can spill his guts, finally. He guides you to the guy’s quarters, where he’s sure no one would be given that everyone was out on the deck either drunk out their mind or making fun of whoever was drunk out of their mind.

And when Nami no longer senses your presence, along with Sanji’s paired absence, she’s immediately on high alert. Out of their entire ongoing discourse, this was something she was immediately worried about. She excuses herself from conversation and tries to make it seem like she wasn’t about to explode from anxiety.

When she herself is out of sight from the crew, she immediately goes running through any room where it was a possibility she could try disrupting the two of you. When she finally reaches the men’s quarters, she finds you and Sanji in the middle of the room, yet to make yourselves comfortable enough to even start saying or doing anything.

“Nami? You okay?” You immediately leave Sanji’s side, removing his hand that he had on your hip. The sight alone made Nami’s breath pick up a little bit.

“Y-Yeah…” She fixes herself, and straightens up, “‘Just a little tired, m’not feeling too well. Can we go to sleep?”

You look back at Sanji with eyes that say sorry, and he shakes his head as a means to tell you that it was no issue for him at all. Only it was. It was his biggest issue. This entire thing with Nami. He didn’t want to be mad at her. He loved her. But he wanted you all for himself.

While you both walk away, she looks bad with a sadistic grin painted on her face. He balls his fist up and grinds his teeth together all before lighting up another cigarette.

Meanwhile, Nami has her hands on your hip as you make your walk back to your own quarters. And you don’t know it under the dark lighting of the room, but she’s ecstatic.

When you make it to your room, the dim lighting does well to emphasize your drunken state, you can't explain it. You feel woozy enough for some good sleep, and Nami and you undress in front of each other in preparation for what you've been waiting all day for, complete relaxation.

You break the silence, “Nami.” She replies with a simple hum to the call of her name, “You feel fine. You just wanted me to get away from Sanji, didn’t you? So he couldn't tell me anything?” Your shirt is off now, and you’re left in your bra and shorts, something she’ll never get tired of seeing. She not so subtly ogles your form, but she can thank the darkness of the room for not giving her away.

She sighs. Try as she might you were a sharp woman, “I’m sorry. I’m just mad at him right now. And I’m not ready for either him or me to talk about it.” She tries to dance around the true subject of why they were playing this game, you. You’re both sat up on your shared bed now, and she has a pitiful expression that you were to blame for, and you immediately feel the guilt in your stomach.

“Hey… I’m sorry Nam’, I didn’t mean to pressure you guys. I'm sorry for being so nosy.” You caress her thigh as an attempt at comfort, and her head slowly comes up to meet your gaze. Your beautiful, pure, gaze.

You could say the same for Nami, even in such a darkened environment her hair effortlessly shined and her face naturally glowed.

It might have been the alcohol in your system, or there must’ve have been an invisible magnet between you two, because the way you naturally gravitated towards her felt unreal, and she does nothing to fight it, neither do you—with a hand to your jaw and her eyes slowly closing, your lips meet. Her skin was so delicate, and it felt like second nature the way they moved against each other. The sound of your lips smacking against one another’s turned you on a bit, Reality settled in, you guys were making out—full blown making out. And it was hot.

It didn’t take much for it to escalate, and you to moan into her mouth, and her kisses go from your mouth to your neck, and then the fat of your breasts. And it all felt euphoric.

“N-Nami…” You moaned, “Robin c-could… mh, walk in.”

You both might've been a little tipsy, but it didn't take a genius to know that the predicament you both were in was far from innocent, and that whoever chose to mindlessly open the door would walk into something dirty.

“She won’t. She’s too preoccupied with Franky.”

Her hand does its own thing while she brings her mouth back to yours, a part of you has this small hunch, like this was intentional. Like she meant for it to happen, the way she came between you and Sanji, and the mention of Robin's absence being but a small conflict in your scandalous act--it sounded calculated, but it was a thought that came and went, you shove it aside to focus on the pure bliss you felt with her tongue now trying to fight yours for dominance.

Your mouths detach once again, this time with a string of saliva connecting between the two of you, and she moans at the sight. God, if you could hear that again. She's pushing you onto her pillow, and trying to remove your shorts. Nami always slept with a shirt on, no bra and panties, as did you. She takes a moment to scan the art-piece in front of her, your nipples were barely peaking through your lace bra, with your panties soaked solely from your make-out session. You were red from the alcohol, and the previous tongue fucking.

She takes her shirt off. And so, it's your turn to admire her beautiful body. You've undressed in front of each other so many times, but this was different. This made you so much more hot, so excited to finally get her body on yours.

Nami get's up out of her comfortable position and takes off her underwear, just as she then does for you and your bra. She takes no time in putting your leg over hers and you immediately feel the friction, the wetness colliding against each other. it's only when she starts to move on top of you is when you shake a little bit with excitement. You whimper and she moves a little faster. The sounds of your cunts making their move on the other is insanely lewd, coupled with your clit being grazed over and over again, your eyes roll back in your head.

It wasn't only your clit's being touched up against each other, but your chests as well. The feeling of your nipples lightly touching on the others was inexplicable. The feeling of pleasure exceeded the need to speak, because you both understood how the other felt. And you just wanted to bask in how good you both fucked each other.

You desperately chase Nami's mouth once again, and she's quick to lower herself for you. Again, your tongues do a dance for dominance.

It doesn't take long for you to both reach the raging desire to orgasm. Your pussies were grinding in the right spots and your conjoined moans were becoming eager, both reaching for the little knot to unravel.

It doesn't take long for that to happen, Nami cums first with you shortly after.

Her forehead is resting on yours while you both catch your breaths, she gives you a quick kiss on the lips, you finally speak, "How're you... so good at that?" She giggles at your obviously fucked-out state.

"'Dunno, you just bring something out of me." You breathlessly laugh at the comment, and you give her a kiss on the cheek before you gently remove her figure and onto your side of the bed.

She goes quiet for a minute, you're covering yourself with your blanket just to re-collect yourself again until you can stomach to get up.

"Sanji."

Nami calls out to the man who obivously wasn't in the room, "You can come inside if you want." She says, and you freeze up. Sanji?

With that, the door cracks open to reveal the man who had been spying on the both of you from the entrace to the girl's quarters this entire time. You're shocked, is the least you can say, and when you see the bulge in his pants that definitely wasn't there when you were with him not even an hour ago, you're even more shocked. You do the best you can to cover yourself in your shared blanket, but Nami just lays on her stomach completely bare to him rocking the most smug grin he's ever seen.

"She's officially mine now, so you can stop trying."

Sanji sighs and looks down to the floor in what looks like defeat, he wants to pull yet another cigarette out and just smoke it.

Inevitably, she was somewhat right. This was the deal they both made to compensate for the tense conflicts that rose between them.

You're a little sobered up, and you start piecing together what they were saying, mine? Stop trying? With the seemingly insane resentment they've harbored up for each other in the past week or two, you've finally cracked it. This was about you. It was only ever you. From the silent treatment they gave each other to the constant and excessive tenderness they both showed you, it explained everything you tried so desperately to talk out of them.

And honestly, you didn't know if you were angry or turned on. Maybe both.

"New deal," He says, and Nami gets up as a means to defy whatever dumb proposition he wanted to start again. "who can fuck her better."

With a shake of her head, "Uh-Uh! I got her first so she's mine!"

He laughs and his confidence is back up, "What? Scared you gonna lose her if she get's a taste of how good I feel?"

Its Nami's turn to put her head down, she looks at you, who can only stare at the cook's very apparent bulge in his pants and he's not blind to it "You want me to make you feel good, princess?" He takes off his coat.

Nami orders him to lock the doors.

He does what she asks of him, then immediately makes his way to you both afterwards.

He's quick on your lips, putting his gloved over your chin and he quickly makes it passionate in doing so. The mix of cigarettes and alcohol on his tongue isn't overpowering, if anything it turns you on even more.

Right beside you is Nami, who once held so much resentment for the blonde, is now slowly getting turned on by him making his move on her one and only.

The blanket that once covered you is now undressing you itself, coming down to reveal your breasts, much to his satisfaction.

Sanji wastes no time in pushing you down and inviting himself onto you bed. He looks at Nami, expecting her to be angry at the sight, but he's surprised to see her, massaging and pinching her breasts at the very sight in front of her. He looks back at you, "'Gonna make you feel good, okay? Yeah?" You nod.

He knows you're wet enough for him, but he fingers you anyway. He fingers your cunt enough to where your whimpering his name for more and to add another, but instead his mimics Nami in pinching your nipple and fondling your breast to add to your pleasure in a multitude of ways. Nami almost subconsciously moves her unoccupied hand to her pussy and starts playing with it at the sight of both of you.

Once he's done enough to ready you, in a swift motion he's taking off his belt, then he lowers his pants to his knees, then his underwear, and next thing you know he's lining himself up. You're grabbing on the pillow underneath you to brace for it. He put's it inside of you and with a satisfied moan, you look at Nami, who's looking at you, and you clench around him.

You look back to Sanji who's too happy about your warm pussy around him to notice the intimate moment you and Nami just shared, and he's already making his first thrust back in and out of you. His cock was long and thick, and you could feel every inch as it went inside.

The scene itself was so dirty. Both you and Nami naked with Sanji's pants pulled down inside of you while Nami shamelessly played with her cunt and tits to the sight. "Tell me how good it feels baby. Tell us." He says, with his thrusts becoming all the more brutal, balls colliding with your ass.

"It feels amazing Sanji. You both make me feel amazing." Followed by a whimper at the sound of skin slapping, you feel a second orgasm approaching you. He signals Nami to come over to his side, and to your surprise they start to kiss while his thrusts become a little more sensual, but he's hitting exact right angle now, and you feel like you're on cloud nine.

The sight before you, his mouth on hers while she chases her own pleasure in her fingers, gives him his own idea of snaking his hand on your clit and doing the same. By this point, holding off your orgasm was impossible. And you cum so hard you almost see stars in your vision. With the sound of your moans, Nami follows suit, and third, Sanji pulls out of you as his own finally approaches and rubs himself on your slit to get his liquids out and onto your body.

Everyones a mess, Nami and you lie down aside from each other again, only this time is Sanji laying on top of you. You bring your hands to his hair and play with the strands.

"I made her cum faster." she says.

"You kidding? Did you hear how loud she was when she was with me?" he says.

All you do is groan. Yeah, this was gonna be a long night.

#sanji vinsmoke x reader #sanji x reader #sanji x you #vinsmoke sanji #cat burglar nami #nami x reader #nami x you #nami x y/n #one piece x reader #one piece sanji #law trafalgar #law trafalgar x reader #one piece #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader

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lupinsversion · 9 months ago

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𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐤𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐳𝐨𝐯𝐚 - 𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝

• summary: aleksander notices that something different is going on with reader, and his suspicions raise. how will he react when those suspicions are confirmed?

• contains: aleksander morozova x fem reader, mention of pregnancy/symptoms, mention of sickness/throwing up, fluff

• word count: 1.1k

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Aleksander had started noticing subtle changes in his partner. She was constantly tired, nauseous in the mornings, and had a strange aversion to certain smells. His mind started putting the pieces together, and suspicions began to form. Although he didn't have any concrete evidence yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that she might be pregnant.

He would observe her closely, noting her increasing fatigue and the new patterns in her behavior. Each observation further fed his suspicions, strengthening his belief that she was indeed carrying his child.

Days passed, and he could hardly concentrate on anything else but the thought of her being pregnant. He observed her more closely, noting her mood swings, her growing appetite, and the small changes in her body. The possibility of fatherhood was both exhilarating and terrifying, and the thought consumed his mind.

One day, he found her sitting on the edge of the bed, her hands on her stomach. She was deep in thought, her expression a mixture of fear and wonder. The sight of her, lost in her own thoughts, struck a chord within him. He walked over to her, his heart beating a little faster.

"Are you okay?" He asked, trying to keep his voice steady. He sat down beside her, gently placing a hand on her shoulder.

She stared off into nothing, and when she started to speak, her voice was quiet and hesitant. “First, my breasts started to hurt. Which was strange, I’ve never felt anything like it before…”

“And then, I couldn’t even stand the smell of my favorite soup. My favorite soup, Aleksander.” She exasperated as if it were a crime.

He nodded, his mind racing. The changes she mentioned were classic signs of pregnancy. The nausea, the aversions to once-favorite foods, even the tenderness in her breasts. It all pointed in one direction.

“I’ve been throwing up the past two days…” She continued once she knew he wasn’t going to speak. “It wasn’t much, but it was still awful. I went to the healers, which was probably foolish because what could they have done for me?”

His stomach churned at the mention of her vomiting. The healers at the Little Palace were knowledgeable, but it was true that without knowing the cause, they could only offer general advice or remedies. "Why didn't you come to me first?" He asked, his voice a mixture of concern and irritation.

Her brows furrowed together, as she shook her head slightly. “What were you meant to do? Massage my breasts? Make my soup smell better? Hold my hair?” She rambled.

He couldn't help but chuckle at her sarcastic comments, the sound of his laughter breaking the tension that had settled over them. "Those are all important tasks, you know," he teased, a wicked grin playing on his lips.

She couldn’t help but playfully roll her eyes. “They may have been nice gestures, yes. But that wouldn’t help me out much, would it?”

"Oh, I don't know," he replied, his smile turning more suggestive. "My hands are very skilled, and I have been known to be quite calming."

She nudged her shoulder into his, a small bit of laughter coming from her as she felt the tension between them lift. This reminded her of why she loved him, how he always made her feel better.

He relished the sound of her laughter, the way her smile lit up her face. He loved the way she responded to his teasing, the way she always softened his hard edges. Leaning into her, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him.

She looked up at him through her lashes as she whispered the words that would change everything. “I’m pregnant, Aleksander.”

The moment the words left her lips, time seemed to freeze. His breath caught in his chest, his eyes widening in disbelief. He had suspected it, but hearing her say it out loud, confirming his suspicions, was a shock he hadn't fully prepared for. Thousands of emotions swirled within him, each one fighting for dominance. Shock, joy, fear, and uncertainty all vied for attention, leaving him speechless.

His thoughts raced as he tried to process her revelation. A child. A life, one they had created together, was growing inside of her. It was a prospect both thrilling and terrifying. He took a moment to regain his composure, his arm still around her shoulders, his hand gently stroking her hair.

"Are you sure?" He finally managed to ask, his voice rough with the weight of her confession. He needed to know for certain, needed to hear her confirm it again.

“I wouldn’t have told you if I wasn’t certain.”

His heart hammered in his chest at her words, the confirmation settling heavily in his mind. A thousand thoughts and fears flooded through him, but he fought to keep his emotions in check. He exhaled slowly, his eyes studying her face, searching for any sign of uncertainty.

She knew why he was looking at her as if he were studying her very soul. “I’m certain.” She repeated.

His eyes locked onto hers, the intensity in his gaze unwavering. He believed her, trusted her completely. If she said she was certain, he had no reason to doubt her. The realization that she was carrying his child, their child, settled within him, a mix of awe and trepidation. His hand moved to gently rest upon her stomach, his palm flat against her abdomen.

"A child," he said quietly, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Our child."

The words slipped from his lips like a reverent prayer, filled with a mixture of wonder and disbelief. He had never imagined himself as a father, never thought he would want to become one. And yet, now that the possibility was before him, he felt an unexpected tenderness in his heart.

“Our child.” She repeated, her hand covering his, a small smile tugging her lips upwards.

The touch of her hand on his, the sight of her smile, sent a new wave of emotions coursing through him. He had never allowed himself to dream of a family, always believing his path was one of solitude. But here she was, carrying their child, and the possibility of a future he had never dared to imagine seemed within reach.

He gently intertwined his fingers with hers, a silent acknowledgement of what was now undeniably real.

As they sat together on the edge of the bed, their hands intertwined and their minds wrapped around the news of her pregnancy, a mixture of emotions coursed through Aleksander. Excitement, anticipation, fear, wonder - it was all there, swirling around in this moment they shared. He looked down at their hands, his fingers gently tracing the back of hers.

"Our child," he repeated once more, the words tasting sweet on his tongue. He smiled then, a genuine smile of happiness. "We're going to be parents."

#shadow summoner #aleksander morozova x you #aleksander morozova smut #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander #aleksander morozova #the darkling x reader #the darkling smut #the darkling #general kirigan smut #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan #grisha #grishaverse

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prettydaisygirl · 1 month ago

Note

Hi!! I just wanted to pop in and say I am in love with streamer!james and superfan!reader 😍

Any chance we can get one where James skips stream for a few days because he's going to visit you (Maybe to surprise you for your birthday or something). She's come to him, so I thought it would be cute to see the reverse.

No pressure if it doesn't work.

Hi!! Thank you so much for your request! I might write a follow up to this with a big birthday date thing, so if anyone has ideas for that, let me know. I appreciate you so much! I adore streamer James and I just want to hug and kiss him, is that too much to ask? Hope you enjoy, love <3

streamer!James Potter x fem!superfan!reader who gets an early birthday surprise ✿ 748 words

cw: fem reader, established relationship, suggestive, pure fluff

james potter masterlist

°˖✧✿✧˖°

previous part | next part

You’re a little worried. It’s two hours past the time that James was supposed to start streaming, but he hasn’t gone live. He hasn’t been answering your messages in the past few hours, either.

You’re not overly concerned. James is a grown man, of course, and even as his girlfriend, you don’t have to know where he is at all times. It’s just that it’s a bit unlike him, so you can’t help but feel a little bit uneasy.

The feeling gets worse when there’s a knock at your door. You aren’t expecting guests, and it’s not like people usually just randomly walk up to your apartment. You make your way slowly to the front door, trying to walk quietly. You peek through the peephole, but find no one there.

What? You definitely heard a knock.

You open the door, and you take a step out to peek around the corner and-

“SURPRISE!”

You jump about three feet in the air, hand flying to your heart as you gasp loudly. Your boyfriend stands there, beaming, with a beautiful bouquet of flowers in his hand. Your terrified expression turns into an excited smile.

“James!” You find yourself jumping into his arms. He moves the flowers out of your way just in time, wrapping his free arm around you. “What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?” He repeats your question, pulling away enough to look down into your eyes. “You know why I’m here. Happy birthday, baby.” He lifts his hand to caress your cheek.

“That’s not until tomorrow!” You say with a giggle, your voice bright and happy with the surprise and joy of seeing him.

“And I’ll still be here tomorrow,” He says, lowering his head to press a kiss to your brow, then his hand settles against your lower back. “C’mon, let’s get these flowers in some water, angel.”

You show him into your apartment. He’s seen it on video chat with you, but it’s different with him being here in person. You’re eternally grateful that you had the urge to clean this morning.

You put the flowers in a vase, placing them on your table. “They’re beautiful.” You say as James wraps his arms around your middle from behind. You lean into him, turning your head to press a kiss to his jaw. He hums softly.

“Not as beautiful as you.” His cheesy words have you rolling your eyes but your cheeks feel warm. You let the comfortable silence hang for a moment before you speak again.

“You’re really here tomorrow, too? What about stream?” You ask softly, pulling away from him to turn and face him. He cups your face in his hands, his eyes so full of love as he looks at you.

“I really am. Today, tomorrow, and the next day too,” He bumps his nose against yours when your eyes widen. “Stream will be fine. I don’t have any sponsors or anything, and I think Sirius is doing something big, so everyone will be watching that. No one will even mind, angel, I promise.”

“I’ll mind,” You say, and James’ smile sweetens if that’s even possible. “I was waiting for your stream, I always miss you.”

“Well, if you’d rather me go back and stream I can, but what about your birthday plans?” He cradles your face like you’re the most precious thing in the world, and he truly thinks you are. You’re so incredibly lucky, and also incredibly excited.

“Birthday plans?” You ask softly, and feel his hands gripping at your waist as he tugs you closer. Your hands slide up his arms, butterflies in your stomach as your fingertips trace the toned muscles there.

“Well…” His voice is deep and smooth like coffee, and he dips his head to kiss at your neck. Goosebumps raise across your skin and you shiver, feeling him smile against your neck. “I thought we could spend together here, just you and I…” You moan softly as he presses an open-mouthed kiss to the sensitive spot just below your ear. “I have dinner and dessert already scheduled for delivery tonight. I also have a cake and your gifts coming tomorrow.”

You let your eyes fall shut as his hands move to your lower back, then lower even further to your ass. He presses his hips against yours, sucking on your skin. Your knees feel weak, but James holds you steady.

“But for now, I want to go explore that bedroom of yours.”

°˖✧✿✧˖°

#daisy's writings #james potter #streamer!james potter #james potter au #james potter x reader #james potter fluff #james potter drabble #james potter fic #streamer!marauders #streamer!james #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x you #james potter oneshot #james potte x y/n #james potter x self insert #hp marauders #marauders fic

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musicalnobody · 2 months ago

Text

Little Secret Ch. 1

General Shepard's Daughter X Simon "Ghost" Riley ⋆ Call of Duty ⋆ MDNI ⋆ 9.3k words ⋆ 18+, explicit ⋆ Read the tags ⋆

⋆ AO3 link ⋆

Summary: After finding out about Shepherds betrayal, Ghost is sent to raid his residence. What he finds there is too good to resist.

Tags: Rape/noncon, Kidnapping, Drugging (brief, no drugged sex), the dove is struggling, pov second person, daddy issues, daddy kink, reader is shepherd's daughter, unsafe sex, age difference (Ghost is late 30's, reader just turned 18 prior to the story), manhandling, restraints, handcuffs, crying, dacryphilia, breathplay, pet names, squirting, creampie, deepthroating, rough oral sex, no use of y/n, spit as lube, size difference, cunnilingus

A/N: First piece on tumblr! I haven't been on this site since like sophomore year of highschool, so I'm a tad nervous! I have only played a little bit of call of duty so if there's any inaccuracies don't come for me. This fic does handle a couple (to say the least) dark topics so please tread carefully!

Ghost hadn’t wanted to go on this mission, let alone be playing ISpy in the now deceased General Shepherd’s home, a large 3-story, 6-bedroom house that sat in the middle of multiple acres of forest. It was a solo mission, said that it was just meant to make sure he hadn’t left anything at his personal residence that could’ve provided extra intel. When Ghost asked, Price didn’t even think twice, remarking that Ghost was perfect for the job before handing Ghost the papers and sending him on his way. He was excited at first. Free access to the General’s residence to comb through his personal belongings? It soothed his kleptomaniac tendencies. But then Soap had to go run his mouth, the careless bastard making one too many jokes on the way that didn’t land correctly. So, there he was, stomping through the forest as a steady downpour reminded him that his gear wasn’t entirely waterproof.

When Ghost arrived, he was in a worse mood than when he started. He made sure to take a stop into Shepherd’s personal quarters to change out his underclothing for something a bit drier. The pants were a tight fit, having found a slightly bigger size at the very bottom of his drawers. The black undershirt shirt gripped every curve and crevice of his body. As he was putting his vest back on, he heard a noise from the floor below him. He quickly grabbed his gun and went to make his way down the stairs quietly. When he didn’t find anything, he went to find another room he could rummage his way through, finally settling on what looked like his main office. He hadn’t even meant to look at her, but she was too clumsy, stepping on a floorboard that creaked loud enough for Ghost to hear.

She was a doll, a tiny little thing with big, bright eyes and puffy lips that contrasted her dark hair. He tried taking his eyes off her, all pink and frills, but you just begged to be looked at. Your Mary Janes were perfectly polished, the ruffles of your socks covering the buckles, your dress was short, something he wanted to fix, a pink gingham that looked so tearable it might as well have been a crime his hands weren’t on it at the current moment.

Your hair topped it off, two pigtails sitting prettily on your shoulders, white ribbons holding them in place. He had to suppress a groan. You see, Ghost was nothing short of a pervert. The way you were carelessly wandering around the large house, unaware of the other soul that occupied it. He creeped around the office, waiting till you entered the next hallway before slinking out from the doorway. He needed to figure out who you were. Why you were here. So, he chased. Down the hallway, up the stairs, and down another long and empty hallway. He used the shadows to aid him, years of military training finally paying off.

There was always the option to go forward with normal military procedures, but Ghost couldn’t handle himself. He pulled out the vial and the small rag tucked in his vest, saved for special emergencies, usually someone who wasn’t cooperating. But who’s to say how you would react? After all, you were occupying Shepherd’s residence, you could be volatile. At least, that’s what Ghost told himself as he crept up behind you, rag ready in his right hand. Attack. Wrapping his left arm around your waist, there was barely time for you to let out the cutest little scream Ghost had ever heard before there was a rag in front of your nose and your vision was rapidly fading to black.

Ghost grabbed her body, cradling it as he gently opened the door that he assumed led to your room. It was as if a tornado of pink had swept through the room and left frills and lace in its wake, but as he scanned the room, he noticed something. A dingy cage in the corner of the room, large enough to fit your body and a pillow. Something had gone down here, and he was determined to figure out what, but not before utilizing that gear that had already been given to him. Ghost never claimed to be a morally correct human being, in fact, he’d claim quite the opposite, especially as he watched your sleeping body bend perfectly into a fetal position within the cage, tucked in with a light blanket. As he shut the door to the small cage, he smirked to himself, now he could pay attention to more important things: Ripping your room apart for information.

He started with your numerous bookshelves, grabbing a diary and throwing it on the bed to read later. Checking under the bed, he found there to be nothing but stuffed animals and candy wrappers, how cute, he thought to himself. He looked through your vanity, finding various skin care and make up items, as well as jewelry, many adorned with the letter S. But as he moved to your desk, he knew had found exactly what he was looking for. Right there, on the top left of the first paper occupying the desk, Shepherd. His precious daughter.

He had kept you here all along, hiding you from the outside world. Ghost grinned, he could see why Shepherd would keep you here, too innocent to introduce to the cruel world. After all, the General’s life was full of danger that could’ve fallen to her as well. He stepped back and went to go sit on the edge of the bed, grabbing the diary sitting in the middle. Breaking the lock, he started reading the first page.

“Dear Diary, Dad got me this diary for my 18th birthday, said that he was going to start to go on longer trips and wanted me to be able to catch him up on what’s happened.” There was a high chance that you had gone completely untouched your whole life, even a chance that you’ve never seen another male figure except for your father in your 18 years of life. He could almost burst at the number of possibilities that flooded into his head.

Ghost didn’t make it that far before he heard your small whimpers infiltrate his ears. He looked down at his feet and there you were, tossing and turning as the tranquilizer wore off.

“Rise and shine, princess.” Ghost growled as he kicked the cage doors.

⋆♱✮♱⋆

Your head was pounding, thoughts begrudgingly swimming around trying to collect themselves. You heard a voice telling you to wake a up. A deep voice, one that traveled through your whole body, it was too deep to be father’s voice. You tried to stretch out your arms, the weight of your head enough to cause your arm to fall asleep, but as you go to extend it you feel the dull pain of your hand hitting the cage walls.

“No…” you whimpered “No no no no no,” you couldn’t be in the cage again, you didn’t do anything wrong, you hadn’t seen father in weeks. You hear another chuckle above you and force your eyes open. It takes your eyes a moment to adjust to the sudden light before you register the sight in front of you.

A man taller than your father stood menacingly over the cage. Large combat boots were the first thing your eyes fully registered. Caked in mud and larger than your head, your eyes traveled upwards till you saw the first glimpse of a color that wasn’t black. You yelped, your eyes filling with tears when you realized who was standing above you. You didn’t have any idea who he was, but you had seen him before. You saw him in papers that you overlooked your father reading and maps with red strings leading to his picture. You knew he was dangerous. “Don’t hurt me please, please I’ll do anything!” You pleaded.

“You should be careful promising things like that” he chuckled as he knelt down. You scramble away from the cage door on all fours, pressing yourself against the back of the cage as far away as possible. “Awe come on angel, don’t be afraid” he cooed menacingly, moving to unlatch the lock “I won’t hurt you.” The way he was saying it almost made you let your guard down, but then the door was swinging open, and he was grabbing your ankle. You let out a cry and started kicking, but the second he felt your foot reel back so you could make impact his grip tightened.

“Unless you struggle.”

Suddenly, Ghost grabbed both of your ankles and yanked you out of the cage, cradling your head on the way out so you didn’t hit your head. You thrashed, not getting the hint. Ghost rolled his eyes, prepared for this sort of reaction from Shepherd’s brat. He quickly sat down and wrapped his arm around her waist once more, securing his other hand in your hair as he pulled you against his chest. “Stop. Struggling. Make this easy on yourself.” You knew something was wrong. Something had to have gone wrong on fathers last mission that had put you in this predicament. As you sat in his lap, struggling, you were throwing every childish insult at him, clearly not having learned many crass words in your time of confinement. Ghost could almost laugh at how easily he was able to keep you from getting away but couldn’t help but start to stir when you started moving your hips atop his groin. “Stop” he growled lowly, and his tone sent a shiver down your spine. His grip on your hair tightened and you cried out.

“Stop, don’t hurt me! Please!” tears were streaming down your pretty little face, and Ghost finally had the heart to let go of the tight grip on your hair.

“Oh you have no idea the amount of hurt I could cause you”

You frantically looked around the room, seeing your room now ripped apart, and mortifyingly, your diary sitting on the bed. Ghost followed your widened eyes and laughed when he saw the object of your fear. “You had no right to look through that!” You screeched, the waterworks starting back up again, this time in embarrassment. Now Ghost was intrigued, he had only made it through about a dozen entries

“Awe, what possibly could you have written in here that’s so scary? You know what, I think we should look through it together.” He said, and you can see him smile through his balaclava. Your heart might as well have stopped in fear, remembering exactly what’s contained in the small pink book. You realize quickly that your hands are still free and start struggling to pummel this large man in the face with your fists. Ghost snorts, easily dodging your fists and reaching into his pocket, out he pulls a nice set of silver handcuffs. Your tears, which you had somehow gotten to stop, start welling up in your eyes for a second time as Ghost seals your fate, wrangling your arms behind your back and clicking the handcuffs into place. He hoists you into the air, tossing you onto the bed, and grabs your diary. Ghost flips to the page he left off on, uninterested in your mundane retellings of the food you had ate and your studies, before pulling you once again, onto his lap.

“Are you going to tell me what this little diary contains before I continue?” he pries, and you shake your head while scowling at him

“It’s none of your business you brute!” Ghost huffs, before beginning to read your entry aloud

“Dear diary, things have been getting real lonely around the house. The maids have stopped coming around as much, I’ve heard murmurs among them that they haven’t received their payment for the week. I decided to go into father’s office to see if there was any explanation, but all I found were files on some scary men he’s after.” You wiggle again,

“that’s enough, that’s enough! You’ve read enough!” You plead, Ghost just laughs and tightens his grip on you before continuing

“I heard the maids gossiping about me, about how sad it is that the only people I’ve interacted with is them. How sad it is that someone like me hasn’t had a romantic experience yet. Of course, I don’t care or anything, father has his reasons. But since he’s been gone for so long it’s given me time to… explore.” Ghost cocks his eyebrow as he looks down at you, your face is beet red and you’re shaking like a leaf “I found one of his magazines in his office, but everything I read about didn’t help, it still just felt weird. I think I’m broken, I wish I could be one of these girls…” Ghost trails off as he finishes the entry before his gruff voice cuts through the silence

“Time to explore, huh?” The tears that had been threatening to fall finally gave way as you started bawling

“Please don’t tell father, I didn’t do anything, I promise!” Ghost just laughs

“Didn’t do anything? These entries don’t show you didn’t do anything little girl.” You try and curl in on yourself, as much as you can with your hands behind your back. He grabs your jaw forcing you to look at him “But don’t you worry, your father has been, taken care of, to say the least” Ghost says ominously, his whole body pounding with need, with a hunger. Fresh meat. Just sitting in his lap, defenseless. A pang of fear stroke through your heart, your body shaking as you realized just how much danger you were actually in. He let your jaw go, returning his gaze to the diary, eyes scanning the next couple entries. Descriptions of your first time exploring your body, only knowing how because of that mistaken find, how you desperately humped your pillows with restless want, and how you’ve asked the maids for romance novels. Ghost closed the journal, he had seen enough.

“Dirty, dirty girl” he growled, and suddenly your journal was thrown to the side and his hand landed on your thigh.

You whimpered, shutting your legs tightly to try to prevent his hand from travelling further. It was no use. His other hand moved from your waist to your other knee as he wretched your legs apart. God your reaction was pathetic, Ghost thought, watching as you cried out and squeezed your eyes shut. “Come on, don’t you want this” he drawled “I’ll give you what you’ve been dreaming about, sweetheart.” Your thoughts are racing a mile a minute, you don’t know what to do, the only thing you can do is try to get off his lap. This seems to excite him more, actively hearing him try to calm his breath down. You start to whimper, muttering stop between shaky breaths. Your attempts had officially failed, as your mutters seemed to snap the remaining control Ghost had, his hands digging into your thighs roughly. “I’m going to do whatever I want with you, and it’s within your best interest to not put up a fight.” His voice was as rough as the grip on your thighs, and as one hand kept your thigh open, the other started to trail closer to the cloth covering what Ghost really wanted.

“I don’t have anything you want!” You cried, panting as his fingers finally rested on the fabric keeping him from his prize.

“Oh but you do, you have something very special for me to take.” And finally, it really clicked in your head.

“No… No no no, you can’t!” you screamed, fighting the handcuffs keeping you from fighting back. Ghost had enough with your incessant struggling, ripping his hands away from between your thighs, they returned under your arms as he lifted you to throw you onto the center of the bed. The way he was able to maneuver you was dizzying, lifting you as if you were nothing. You went to scoot to the top of the bed, hoping the fluffy texture of your pillows would be enough to calm you down, you faintly heard Ghost snicker. Watching his hulking figure fully get onto the bed and crawl to the middle of it, grabbing your ankle. He pulled roughly and watched in amusement as you yelped in surprise, your head hitting the pillows. You shut your eyes tight, wanting to pinch yourself to escape this nightmare. Ghost groaned as he finally gave himself some well needed attention by rubbing his bulge through his pants, relishing in your fear.

“I can see why your father kept you locked away from the outside world, you’d never make it out there” he cooed, taking in the way your shaking had caused the strap of your little pink dress to fall off your shoulder. Your pigtails had been slightly messed up from the way he had grasped your hair earlier. Your face was wet with tears and your lips were red and puffy from your nervous biting. He needed those lips on his cock, needed your eyes gazing up at him as he wrecked your throat. “Get on your knees.” He commanded, and you opened your eyes to see him in front of you on his knees, still managing to tower over you. You almost scoffed at him, how the hell were you supposed to do that with your hands behind your back. It was like he could sense your attitude as he grabbed both of your pigtails and yanked you forward, forcing you to rearrange yourself to get to your knees. You could see him smile under his balaclava, but his cold blue eyes stared at you with a look of feigned care. “Good girl” he cooed. He released his hold on your hair, letting you fall face first into your covers as he went to unbutton his pants, you turn your neck, trying to see what the large man was doing now. As the sound of a zipper hit your ears, your blood ran cold.

“I have an idea, little one” Ghost said, fake saccharine dripping off his words, everything he said made you feel like you were walking on the edge. Unbeknownst to you, Ghost was pulling a bandana sized piece of fabric out of one of his vest pockets. He used one hand to yank you up again “Keep yourself up” he growled as he folded the fabric. Your brain couldn’t comprehend what was happening until you registered his heated stare and his hands moving to move this piece of fabric towards you.

What was going on, what was he doing? But then it clicked, too late. As you started shaking your head from side to side, Ghost grabbed your chin harshly.

“Stay still, or you won’t like the results” and suddenly the tears were pouring down your face again.

“Please don’t do this, I hate this part, I don’t want to go back there!” Ghost couldn’t help but smirk at your begging, the puzzle pieces of your past slowly falling into place.

“Awe, did your dear old father do this? Take your sight before putting you in that little cage. Letting you sit there and rot?” He questioned, knowing he hit the nail on the head, your fright in the cage earlier helping him gather this conclusion. Your sobs only got louder and more frantic, believing that’s exactly what this man was going to do to you as well.

If Ghost was a better man, he would’ve reconsidered his sick idea. But Ghost wasn’t a good man, evident by the way he yanked the fabric tight around your eyes.

A knot tight enough that only nimble hands would be able to pull it apart, you were close to hysterical.

“Please,” you blubbered “don’t put me back there, I’ll be good!” it was at this confession that Ghost groaned, a groan resonating from deep in the back of his throat. He had you right in the palm of his hands, so malleable that Ghost couldn’t bear waiting any longer.

“Alright, alright” he huffed “I won’t put you back in that stupid cage.” At this your sobs quieted, but only a bit, the vast unknown behind the blindfold still making you vulnerable. “What do you say?” He sneered, patting your cheek lightly.

“Thank you! Thank you, thank yo—“ he cut you off

“Thank you, what?” He growled. You racked your head for what he could possibly mean, you had no idea who this man was, no inkling of a name. Your thoughts were suddenly cut off with a slap to your cheek, the pain causing you to yelp out

“Daddy!”

Time stood still. For the first time that night, Ghost couldn’t breathe. “What was that doll?” He managed to grunt out.

Your brain was so fuzzy from the slap, words were just pouring out of your mouth, anything to try and please the man in front of you “Thank you daddy, thank you” and Ghost simply couldn’t stop the way his hand shot to yank down his boxers, releasing his throbbing erection. He couldn’t be blamed for the way he grabbed your pigtails in his hands and yanked you forward. You cried out at the strain, the lack of support without your arms making this a particularly uncomfortable situation. Suddenly, there was something fleshy prodding against your mouth, you whimpered. What did he want you to do? What was this? Ghost looked down at the young girl in front of him, the tip of his cock was inflamed, he needed relief.

“Come on, sweetheart. Suck.” He growled. I’m going to tear her apart. Your brain had to be short circuiting. Nothing in your books had described anything like this, not even close. Heated make out sessions and light touching were the furthest her books went. What did he even want you to do? He grabbed your chin, squeezing your lips apart before thrusting his hips forward. You were suddenly overwhelmed by the salty, musky taste of his flesh, your mouth forced open to accommodate his width. He had only pressed in the tip, and you were already struggling, trying to shake your head and force him out of your mouth, but his grip on your pigtails returned as he shoved another inch in your mouth. “Come on, doll. You can do it.” The praise made your mind spin as your mouth was opened wider than it ever had before. You tried to follow what he told you to do and suck on the member in your mouth, you hear a low groan above you, a small indicator to keep it up.

“You sure you’re a virgin, sweetheart? Cause you’re taking it like a slut.” It was at this point that he yanked your head forward onto his cock, hitting the back of your throat.

You sputtered, and the tears really started falling, first soaking the fabric and then rolling down your face. Ghost couldn’t help but laugh at the pathetic display in front of him, letting go of one pigtail to faintly trace his hand along the size of your face. You were trying to shake your head again, trying to breathe, when Ghost finally let up. Just to shove you right back down. You cried, and cried, but the more you showed your distress, the rougher his thrusts became. You were desperately trying to suck air in through your nose and the rare times when he would pull all the way out. Then, when you were finally starting to get the hang of it, Ghost kept one hand on your pigtail and moved the other to the back of your head and forced you to the base of his cock. The shock was immediate, your body trying to reject him and your gag reflex kicking in. Ghost growled, you could hear how his breathing had picked up, but that was the last thing you were focusing on as you were desperately trying to break free from his grasp. Drool was pooling around the sides of your mouth, sweat had your hair sticking to your forehead, as you desperately tried to breathe, Ghost making it increasingly harder to. “Come on baby, you don’t need air that badly, you can just be a braindead whore.” His words faintly registered as your head increasingly felt fuzzier. You could feel yourself giving up the fight, letting him force you to deepthroat him.

“Finally,” he groaned “Let yourself be used like a little fleshlight.” You felt filthy, mixes of fluids dripping onto your chest. Ghost’s hips stuttered as he threw his head back, a low moan coming out of the back of his throat as once again he shoved your head to the very base. You still weren’t prepared, and this time, it was accompanied by a salty liquid hitting the back of your throat. He was forcing you to swallow this liquid that you had no knowledge of, not aware of what it was at all. Ghost could hear your cries, your gurgles as he came down your throat. It only got him off more. Finally, Ghost ripped his cock out of your mouth, forcing your mouth open to inspect it, making sure you had swallowed all of his cum.

“W-What was that, what did I just swallow?!” You cried, letting your head fall to his thigh.

“Oh, relax my sweet angel, you’ll be just fine.” It hadn’t even passed through his mind that you wouldn’t have any idea what cum was, and the very thought that you didn’t was enough to get him stirring again. You were desperately trying to get your body to calm down, finally able to breathe. You still couldn’t see, and Ghost had no intention of letting you anytime soon. Ghost picked up his half hard member and stoked it a couple times to the image of you in front of him. You had made an absolute mess on your covers, a large puddle of spit and tears evident below you.

“What a messy baby.” He laughed, tilting your face up so you could “look” at him. He looked at you again and realized that he wanted you on your back, now. He leaned down to your ear,

“Do you think you can follow Daddy’s orders? He whispered, the grumble in his accent making you shiver. You slowly nod your head, scared for what would happen if you disobeyed his actions. “Lay on your back.” He demanded. You suddenly had a choice, try and turn around and flop like a fish, or fall back and hope you didn’t hit your head. Before you could choose, Ghost was choosing for you, picking you up once again below the arms and throwing you onto your back. Your head hit the pillows, and you let out a small cry of surprise. “Not moving fast enough, princess” your head was spinning with all these pet names, each one leaving you with a different feeling.

“You’re wearing too much clothing doll, I think we should change that.” He observed, letting his hand run up your thigh again.

“No, no, I did what you wanted, I don’t want you to see me naked!” you wept, trying once again to close your legs.

“Oh, come on, little one, haven’t you learned by now?” His voice reached your ears as you suddenly hear him unsheathe a knife from its holster. You suddenly feel what you assume is the back of the knife along the outside skin of your thigh, and you bite your tongue to stop the tears from falling again, settling to whimper instead.

“Daddy, please, please don’t hurt me!” Ghost sits back, sets his knife down, and pretends to ponder even though you can’t see him.

“Hmm, I think I know just what to do with you.” You lay there hoping that means you’ll be released from these handcuffs, your hands uncomfortably sitting behind your back, but he opens your legs again instead. Ghost grabs his knife again, lifting your dress to reveal your panties. White cotton with pink rabbits decorating the fabric, and a cute little pink bow in the center, Ghost almost lost it right there. How adorable.

He peels the fabric away from your skin, he knows he could do this the easy way, but fuck, the power he held over you was enough to make him feral. He held a knife up into the fabric and pushed, the fabric giving way under the sharp knife. You cried out, not expecting your underwear to be violated in such a way. He continued to expertly cut the fabric off your body, before disposing of the ruined cotton off the side of the bed. This time, the tears had no choice but to fall, and Ghost realized after the first sniffle. “Awe sweetheart, don’t you worry, I won’t cut you unless you disobey me.” Yeah, because that was supposed to make you feel better. You mewled pathetically, trying to save yourself one last time

“Please! Just don’t cut up this dress, if you uncuff me I’ll take it off for you and then you can put the cuffs right back on. Daddy please, please!” You rushed, trying to save one of your favorite garments. Ghost tutted at your display of fear, genuinely thinking your offer through.

“Mm, fine.” He grabbed the key from another pocket in his vest, unlocking your cuffs and grabbing them, keeping them close to him. “Put on a show, babydoll.” He leaned back, hoping that he had shown you enough to scare you out of disobeying.

You really wanted to run, you should’ve. But instead, your body started moving, hips swaying side to side as your hands went to clumsily fumble for the zipper. Ghost just sat back and watched you struggle, watching as you finally got your hands on the small piece of metal. Slowly pulling it down, he watched as you slid the lace straps of your pink gingham dress down your arms. Everything you did was with such sensualness that Ghost couldn’t help but feel proud of the display in front of him.

“Good job baby girl, now take it off for me.” And with that you slid the dress down to your waist, over your hips, and suddenly Ghost was growling low. His hand crept closer to the cuffs again, and he pounced. Just as your dress reached the crease of your knees, Ghost ripped your hands away from the dress and joined them above your head. The show obviously stunned you, causing you to cry out immediately, your heart starting to race.

“No, I thought I was doing good!” You pleaded, but Ghost just laughed. “Oh you’re doing great sweetheart, but you look so much better defenseless.” His words laced around your heart, squeezing tightly as you started shaking from the cool breeze. You were exposed, your dress bunched at your knees, your hands held above your head, and your simple white bra covered your tits, something Ghost wanted to change. But first, he wanted you back in those handcuffs. He grabbed them from his pocket and wrapped them around your wrists, tighter this time just to see you squirm.

“It hurts,” you sniffled, the words barely leaving your mouth before a loud smack was heard resonating throughout the room. He had smacked you.

“That, is hurt, princess.” He sneered, watching as your head dropped in front of you, chin hitting your chest. You were truly in the hands of a bad man. Tears starting to dampen the fabric again, snot running down your nose. Ghost let your hands fall in front of you this time before pushing you backwards onto the bed. Once you landed on your back, Ghost took the opportunity to take off the dress and throw it into the corner of the room near your closet. “I’m going to devour you.” He growled as he spread your legs. If it weren’t for the fact that your head was still pounding from the last time he smacked you, you probably would have resisted the motion, but you couldn’t find it in you. You felt his hand snake behind your back as he expertly took off your bra with one hand, his skilled hand taking off your bra and roughly palming one of your breasts in his hand. Your tits weren’t small by any sense of the word, yet Ghost was able to almost cover an entire breast with one hand, something that reminded you of his sheer size.

“You have such perfect tits for me to play with,” he growled as he leaned down in front of you, one hand still palming your breast. Ghost shoved his mask up to his nose and suddenly, you could feel his hot breath inches away from your cunt, you didn’t know he meant devour literally. But your theory was confirmed as you felt the long stripe of Ghost’s tongue from the bottom of your slit to the top of your mound. You cried out at this, not knowing what to do at the new surge of pleasure that radiated through your body.

“What are you doing, what are you doing?!” You cried, you knew this was wrong, nobody was supposed to do this.

“Come on little girl, just let yourself experience this.” His voice almost like the devil on your shoulder, urging you to let him keep going.

“I don’t want you to see me like this, I don’t want anyone touching there!” The way you didn’t exactly know how to describe it was driving him nuts, leaving most thoughts behind he decided to bark out

“Quiet, before I shut you up in a different way.” The threat hung in the air as you whimpered pathetically. Ghost took this as his cue to continue his attack on your cunt. Despite your cries and protests, you were wet, deviously so. Ghost couldn’t get enough of the divine nectar that was gracing his tongue as he dove into you at a rabid pace. Shoving his tongue as far as he could into your hole, the intrusion foreign to you.

“Oh my God! D-Daddy!” You screamed, you didn’t know what to do. You had never felt so much overwhelm in your life. Your walls were clenching around his tongue, and just that was enough for his erection to make itself very noticeable. The only stimulation being the small rubs against the covers when he lapped at you just right, his cock was once again flushed. The tip dripping precum. But Ghost had a mission. Your cries of “stop!” and “help!” were mixed in with broken moans, that’s how he knew he was getting closer to his goal.

As he shoved his face further into your pussy, lapping at your spongy walls, you were squirming and crying, hands grasping at the top of his balaclava trying to get him to stop. “I can’t take it!” That was what he wanted to hear. Switch. His tongue trailed up to your clit, and suddenly your body was ignited with a fire that you hadn’t been feeling before. Your screams grew louder and higher as you begged him to stop. “Daddy I can’t take this, somethings happening!” It dawned on him that you had definitely never had an orgasm before, and you could feel the wide grin that spread on his face as he continued his assault.

“Come on baby girl,” he growled out, voice muffled between your thighs. His lips wrapped around your clit, and he sucked, hard, and suddenly your vision was going white. You were seeing stars. Ghost had to hold your legs in place as you screamed “Daddy!” so loud that he was glad this was your own residence.

“You make so much noise, princess. So greedy” He tutted. Tapping on your clit with his finger.

The stimulation was almost too much, lighting a spark again. Ghost rose from his hands and leaned back on his knees, wiping his face with the back of his hand. “Such a delicious meal though, you did so good.” He cooed, and you preened with the praise, back arching and a small smile coming across your face, quickly overtaken by a look of fear again when you felt Ghost’s hands travel from your thigh to your core.

“What are you doing?” You said in a panic, “I’m sensitive!” you cried out, truly believing that would be enough to deter him. Ghost laughed, shocked that you hadn’t learned.

“No no, you owe me something baby girl,” And with that both of his hands were roughly grabbing and kneading your chest, pulling and pinching at your nipples as you mewled and moaned in abandon. He kept his left hand on your breast as he used his other hand to guide his cock to your pulsing entrance.

“What!” You shrieked. “What are you doing, I’ve had enough!” But Ghost wasn’t having it. Removing his hand from your breast with one last rough pinch to your nipple, he replaced it over your mouth to stifle your shrieking.

“Oh be quiet. I’ll take great pleasure in taking you.” You were already pushing against him, but still, the little lubrication you did have allowed the very tip to slip in with a “pop!” It was then that Ghost removed his hand from your mouth, and you screamed.

“Help, help, Daddy!” you cried. Tears readily streaming down your face. Ghost looked down and almost came on the spot, blood. Just a little bit, from the lack of prep. It was at this point that he didn’t want you blindfolded anymore. He wanted you to see how much he was wrecking your body. He wretched the tip out and you sighed in relief before Ghost’s hand snuck behind your head. Your breath hitched. Was he finally doing what you wanted? As the maker of the knot, he was able to take it apart quite easily, watching as the piece of fabric fell from your face. He rubbed his fingers between the soaked fabric, groaning as you still refused to open your eyes, afraid of what you would be faced with.

“Open your eyes, pretty girl. I want to see your eyes when I break you.” Your skin around your eyes was puffy and red, your eyes bloodshot, your mascara running down your face, lips cracked and bleeding from how much you had bitten them. You were the definition of wrecked beauty in Ghost’s eyes. You finally looked between your legs, seeing Ghost’s massive cock resting between your legs. Your sobbing started up again when you registered the red tinge on his tip, evidence of the strain the first time. “Oh come on baby, I can make this easier for you.” He cooed. He quickly leaned down and pulled his mask up to his nose, gathering a large wad of spit that he skillfully spat directly on your clit, watching as it slid down your pussy. “God, what a sight.” Ghost groaned as he pulled his mask back down.

“Please, please don’t do this,” you tried your best to get him to stop. There was no way this behemoth was going to be able to fit. You were going to die. Ghost just laughed at you again, “Come on, you know that won’t work with me.” He smiled underneath his mask and once again guided his member to your entrance.

“Three… two…” He didn’t let you wait. He shoved just a little more than the tip in, and even though the spit provided some lube, you still screamed.

“It hurts! It’s too much!” Tears were streaming down your face, the hulking man bullying his way into you had started to seriously break your mind. You were going mad. You swear you could feel your body tearing open, your brain was screaming at you to get him to stop. There was no way he was going to be able to fit. He was insane. Ghost must have sensed your growing anxiety, as he cooed at you quietly that you were doing “so good,” trailing his fingers from the center of your chest down to rest over your clit. Starting to circle his fingers around your sensitive nub, your cunt slowly started pulsing around Ghost’s dick. He wanted to take pity on you, really, he did, but you just looked so pretty stretched around his cock like this. As Ghost went to take one of your breasts in his hand again, you squeezed your eyes shut, but this wasn’t for long as the second Ghost noticed, a loud slap could be heard.

“You’re not being a good girl for me, isn’t that what you want to do, be a good girl?” He questioned as you tried to focus your eyes on the masked man in front of you. He was looming above you, one hand resting to the side of your head to steady himself and the other returning his harsh treatment of your breast.

Out on display like this, your body was shaking from both the exposure and the fear coursing through your veins. The slap had once again made your head fuzzy, like every time you received impact from his large hand, your brain reset. Ghost leaned back to inspect the way that you wrapped around him as he went to slowly push a few more inches in. There was one thing you were right about, and it’s that Ghost’s cock was most definitely too much for you. But Ghost didn’t have the heart to care, he would make sure it would fit.

“Don’t worry princess, you’re halfway there.” Your heart dropped, your sobs getting louder. At this, Ghost laughed, reminding you of the heartlessness of this beast.

“Go easy on me! Please, just this much, no more, no more!” You cried, and Ghost responded to this by pressing just a little harder on your clit.

“You need to realize that the more you struggle, the more this is going to hurt.” Ghost grunted out. But you didn’t care, you wanted him away from you. You utilized the fact that your feet weren’t bound and kicked your heel into his back. You heard a little “oof” before Ghost stopped all of his movement.

Uh oh. Something told you that was a bad move. A low growl reached your ears and your heart dropped to your stomach.

“You know,” He reeled back, stroking at his chin in faux pondering “that was laughable, mutt. We should really teach you how to kick properly.” His eyes looked down at you with amusement before narrowing “But that was also bad, very very bad.” His voice was thick, reaching your ears with such ferocity that your skin immediately erupted in goosebumps. Slowly, you could feel Ghost pull out, leaving just the tip inside. Without warning, his hand shot to your throat, squeezing immediately and causing you to choke on your breath.

“Oh you poor,” he slid in another inch, “sweet,” another inch “pathetic,” your head felt like it was surrounded by pillows and your vision had black dots swimming in front, you needed air, you needed- “whore.” And suddenly, he was thrusting his cock into you, A scream was ripped from your throat, the lack of breath causing it to die quickly. Your body was on fire, you couldn’t breathe, and you were thrashing to get out of his grip. But without air, your body was losing momentum quickly, and those black dots were getting increasingly larger. He hadn’t even moved, instead he squeezed your throat tighter. “Come on,” he grumbled lowly “submit.” You hadn’t had air for at least a minute, Ghost looked down at you and very faintly you could make out his grin through the mask. This sick bastard.

Despite you being the one with a hand around your throat, Ghost also couldn’t breathe. The way your cunt was pulsing around his cock had him trying to steadily gather air. “Fuck princess, you’re squeezing me so tight.” He groaned, but if you could hear him you didn’t make any indication of it. Ghost didn’t want to let his grasp on your neck go, your eyes were rolling back into your head. He felt like a teenage boy again, gathering the strength to not cum right then and there.

Finally, when the black dots had become swarms in your vision, he released. Your chest was heaving as you gasped for air, your head feeling as though it was underwater. But then your thoughts came back to you, and you broke down again.

“Please spare me! I don’t want to die, please, just leave me alone!” Ghost wasn’t listening, instead going to pull his hips back slowly, teasingly, as your walls clenched onto him like no tomorrow.

“You feel so good though sweetheart, how could I ever leave you alone” he cooed, his voice still carrying a dark weight behind it as he thrusted forward again. This caused yet another scream to be pulled from your body. You were mortified; you had no idea what to do.

Ghost couldn’t fucking believe the scene that was playing out in front of him. The velvet that was wrapped around his cock was addicting, and it took every fiber of his being to not slam into you repeatedly. He was trying to be nice, trying not to jackhammer into you like there’s no God, and yet he could feel his self-control slipping away. Piece by piece, his resolve fell away. Instead of the spit acting as lube, your own wetness was starting to drip onto him, and it was turning him on to no end. Knowing your body was slowly giving into him.

Knowing your body was slowly giving into him was only making you cry out louder. It was getting to your head, feeling hazy and clouding right from wrong. You started really looking at this man, tears swimming in your vision. You looked right into his icy blue eyes, the military paint around his eyes making them look so stark in contrast.

The eye contact was the last straw. The way your teary eyes were staring so intensely into his, almost studying him, made him snap. “Oh princess,” a slow thrust here “don’t look at me like that” another thrust, a bit quicker this time. “You’re gonna make me lose my resolve.” He growled. With that, he quickened his pace, and oh how you reacted. Your moans graced his ears with a heightened pitch and increase in quantity. “You’re such a whiny little baby” he cooed, watching you squirm as he used the same tone to belittle you further, “Can’t even handle me like this, so pathetic.”

The tears rolled down your face. You didn’t understand how any God could leave you at the hands of a man so cruel, but for once, the extra crying seemed to work on him. Almost.

After patronizing you more and watching fat tears roll down your pretty little face, Ghost was hit with an idea.

As you closed your eyes, you suddenly felt his warm tongue lap up the tears that had trailed down your chest, causing you to shiver. “D-Daddy!” You moaned, not expecting the sensation as he slowly trailed up your chest, up your neck, to your jaw, and finally your cheek.

“You want me to be nice to you sweetheart?”

You nodded, eyes looking up at him with such want, such plea, that Ghost almost felt bad was what he was about to do. He went to pull out, teasing your entrance with the tip. But then you started wiggling, whining at the loss of the feeling, and Ghost just couldn’t take it.

“Too bad.” He growled, and with that, he slammed into you with no remorse.

The scream you let out could’ve broken windows, and oh how it was music to Ghost’s ears. “Oh yes baby girl, let it allll out, tell the world exactly who this pussy belongs to.”

The pace that he begun was like that of a jackhammer, your pussy was on fire. The squelching noises mixed with the sounds of your screams? Moans? (You couldn’t tell anymore) had you realizing just how ruined your bed was going to be once this was all over. If it ever ended. But slowly, against your will, your body started reacting. The pain slowly subsided, and it started to feel good. The fire was still ongoing, but it raged in your core instead. Every thrust left you clinging to your soul and you weren’t sure you were going to get it back. Just then, Ghost went to angle his hips just a little higher, grabbing your hips and starting to use you like a fleshlight. Your breath hitched, and suddenly you were gripping onto your covers for dear life.

“Daddy, daddy! There, oh my God, there!”

“Oh yeah?” His fingers grabbed onto your hips harder, adding more pressure and making sure it would bruise. He watched as you nodded before thrashing your head back and forth. He almost wanted to take his mask off so you could see the wicked smile etched across his face, but he knew better.

You started to feel the sensation you had when Ghost’s face was between your thighs, and you almost wanted to run from it. “No, no! It feels weird, I feel funny!”

Ghost took that as his chance to make you launch into orbit, using one hand to trail up your chest to your neck, and his other to rest on your clit. Making small circles, your mewls were just getting louder and louder. But that stopped when Ghost started choking you again, your hands trying to wrap around his arms and pull them away.

“N-No” you choked out, tears starting to stream down your face again. But for some reason, the feeling persisted. As he was thrusting into you with the strength of a God while cutting off your air supply, you realized your body was still feeling good.

“Come on baby, submit. You know you like this.” Your pussy was squeezing him tighter the longer he rested his hand on your throat. He reveled in it before he started feeling the familiar pulsing he felt around his tongue. The sensation had him loosening his grip on your throat, watching as you gasped for air.

“Daddy, I can’t take this!” You cried, digging your nails into his back.

He groaned “Yes you can angel, let go.” He picked up the pace by a notch, ramming into you like there was no tomorrow and God did you react. Ghost felt a final squeeze, before realizing his abdomen felt a little more wet than it did before. You had squirted on him.

The feeling was dizzying, fireworks were exploding behind your eyelids. The release was overwhelming, the way you screamed while digging your nails into his shoulders had you convinced there had to be blood. You felt electrified, panting heavily before realizing he hadn’t stopped, but his thrusts were faltering.

“Fuck, you can’t do that to me you dirty girl.” He grunted out. Resting one hand by the side of your head and the other on your breast, he started groping you before picking up his pace once again.

“W-Wait, I can’t take anymore!”

“Shhh, just a little more.” And then, with a particularly rough palm of your breast, he came. The thought of his cum being the first to fill you was enough to make his dick twitch to attention again, but he wanted to give you a break.

The feeling was unknown to you. You gasped quietly. You had just felt him twitch, felt the hot liquid hit your walls.

“Good job angel. You did so good for me.” He cooed, and you couldn’t help but writhe shyly at his praise. You felt him slowly pull out, and you whined at the loss. The empty feeling foreign after his onslaught. The wet feeling between your thighs seemingly growing by the second.

Ghost peered between your legs and groaned, watching his seed drip out of you slowly, before pulling his boxers and pants back up, turning around, and walking out of your bedroom. You tried to sit up quickly and fell back, whining loudly to try and show your distress. “Where are you going?” You shouted worriedly. You almost started to cry when you heard no response, but then you heard the faucet running. The large man appeared in the doorway holding a washcloth “I’ll give you the option, would you like a bath or just a rag?”

“Um… a bath would be nice?” You couldn’t believe you were letting this man pamper you after he broke into your house, but what else were you supposed to do? Your moral complaints were quickly quieted when he picked you up bridal style to walk you to the bathroom. He had somehow found the bubbles, and lined the tub ledge with the products that you used.

After finishing your hair, Ghost began to wash your body, taking great care to grope and caress each curve of your body. The bath felt too sensual, but you couldn’t be bothered to care when the water was so warm, when his hands were so comforting, when the feeling was so… nice. When all was said and done, he drained the bath, wrapping you in a fluffy towel and bringing you back to your room.

Pulling open your closet, Ghost’s eyes were assaulted with pink and frills. You had an array of dresses and outfits that he could choose from. He decided to randomly choose a pale pink dress that looked tantalizingly short, decorated with ribbons, lace, and bows, he could tell you were satisfied by his choice.

“Put this on princess, then we’ll leave”

“Leave?!” You panicked, scrambling away from him once again.

“You really think you can live here on your own? When all the maids have stopped showing up? What happens when you run out of food?” He growled; he didn’t have the patience for this.

“I don’t want to! Please don’t take me from here!” You cried, tears starting to well up in your eyes. “Daddy always told me I wouldn’t be able to survive out there, that they would eat me alive”

“Oh they would. Which is why you’ll be with me” He grunted. “You don’t have a choice little one, so make this easy on me, won’t you?”

The tears started falling as you nodded, grabbing the dress and slowly putting it on. You stood up and maneuvered around him carefully to grab white ruffle socks and some white mary janes, hearing Ghost groan behind you.

“You make it so hard not to rip your clothing off and take you all night long.”

You shy away from him, the statement reminding you that he was not a good man. As you go to grab underwear, he stops you.

“None of that, you don’t get that luxury”

You whimpered quietly, uncomfortable with the thought of going out without anything covering you. The dress was already short enough, one that you only wore when your father wasn’t around, and here he was, forcing you to go out of the house without. Too scared to complain, you grabbed a couple toiletries and your diary, before turning to him. “If you’re going to take me, can you at least tell me your name?”

His eyes narrowed. “Ghost.”

You opened your mouth to start to complain before shutting it again, accepting the answer. “Where are you taking me?”

“The base. Where Price will figure out exactly what to do with you.”

You swallow, not exactly thrilled with the answer but you nod anyways. Ghost checks over the room one more time before turning to you and picking you up bridal style once again, a shocked noise coming from your mouth.

“Can’t have you going anywhere sweetheart.”

And with that, you’re leaving the house for the first time in your life. He watches as you take in the woods around you, glad that the rain stopped a bit ago.

“Johnny will be waiting for us, you’re in good hands.”

You can't help but doubt that.

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cherry-burst · 8 months ago

Text

Zayne x MC “Rest Easy”

Love and Deepspace

Fluff/Smut | Hurt/Comfort | BJ | 4.8k Words

Zayne carefully clutched his side as he walked up to his front door. The motion sensor lights popped on, illuminating the path for him. Digging the keys out of his pocket, he let out a sharp hiss. The sound of the keys jingling might as well have been a cowbell, given how quiet he was trying to be. He carefully unlocked his door, the mechanisms in the lock slipping and clicking into place. A quick glance at his watch showed it was already 3 AM.

As he entered, he quietly closed and locked the door behind him. The house was still. The large windows allowed the moon and starlight to spill through the gauzy curtains onto the floor illuminating just enough for him to navigate without needing to turn on any lights. He slipped off his shoes at the front door and shrugged off his jacket. He hissed again, holding the coat rack for support. After a moment, he pushed his glasses back up his nose and walked quietly toward the bedroom.

He noticed a book on the armrest of his couch face down so the surface of the couch would work as a bookmark. A small glass of water was left on the coffee table next to an empty mug with strawberries decorating the rim. A smile touched his lips as he glanced around.

It was the small things in his home that were different since his girlfriend had moved in. Seeing things littered here and there, not messy, but lived in, was one of his favorite things. His home finally felt alive and cozy. The kitchen was always full of staples, every surface was free of dust, and the bed was always warm when he lay next to her. She was the lifeblood of his home now.

He still wasn’t home as often as he’d like, constantly picking up shifts at the hospital thanks to an uptick in wanderer activity. Not much had changed since she moved in, but he did intentionally take days off now just to spend more time with her. He always tried to come home at a reasonable hour, but tonight had many unexpected twists that not even a psychic could have predicted.

Zayne made his way to his bedroom and quietly entered. The curtains were pinned open washing his girlfriend, who was sound asleep in the middle of the bed, with a gleam of light. His chest warmed at the sight, making a mental note to tease her as a bed hog in the morning as he quietly changed into comfortable sleepwear.

Peeling the comforter up, Zayne calculated if he could fit in the small sliver of space she’d left him. He placed his glasses on the side table along with his phone as he tried to asses the space he had. With a sigh, he decided to give it a shot and lying beside her anyway, slowly made his way into bed. He made sure to keep his torso, which he was carefully holding, straight, and not bend toward his side.

He debated on whether to wake her up or not, thinking up an apology as to why he was home so late. In the end, he needed to nudge her to get her to move just a few inches to the side anyway so his larger frame could fit comfortably on the mattress. She roused with a soft sigh.

“Zayne?” Her groggy voice was interrupted by a yawn.

“Hey,” Zayne whispered back. “Sorry, I’m late… Something came up at the hospital and, …could you please move over just a bit? I can’t fit on my side when you’re hogging the entire center.”

“You’re home” She smiled, her tired mind taking a few extra seconds to register what he said. “Oh! Sure.”

Wiggling to her side of the bed, she gave Zayne plenty of room. He settled next to her with ease now that he had the space. She stretched her arms up, her back and shoulders popping as she yawned fiercely. Her nightshirt rode up to expose a sliver of her tummy and Zayne, without much thought, reached up and placed his hand on the exposed skin. She was warm against his palm.

“I’m home, especially now that I’m here with you.” He allowed himself a small smile, the scent of her on his sheets already easing the noise in his mind.

She hummed in agreement. “I missed you. I got worried and called the hospital, but they said you were staying late with a patient.”

Zayne nodded, a part of him sending a thanks to that employee who hadn’t told her exactly what had happened tonight. That would have made his girlfriend worry too much. She would have worried for nothing, though. He was in good hands having already been at the hospital.

He traced his fingers over her stomach, rubbing small circles. She sighed and then he sighed, feeling the drama of the night lift off his shoulders.

“Go back to sleep,” Zayne whispered.

She groaned, “But you just got here… I want to hear about your day.”

He hadn't had a chance to text or call her all day thanks to the outpouring of patients the hospital received. It was hard for him to even take a sip of water or stuff a granola bar in his mouth before another code was beeping over the speakers urgently calling for him.

He yawned, sleep already welcoming him into his warm embrace. “Sleep. Doctor’s orders.”

His girlfriend scoffed, “Are you ever going to stop using that excuse? You told me that eating a third cupcake yesterday was doctor's orders as well.”

“Well, it did make you happy, and happiness leads to wellness.” He closed his eyes, his voice groggy.

She took a deep breath and rolled over to face him. Zayne’s hand naturally slid to her back and pulled her closer without a second thought.

She cupped his face, a kiss landing on the tip of his nose. Then she froze. “Your head?!” She gasped, her fingers grazing the edge of the butterfly grip just above his brow. “What happened?” The gash was about an inch long peaking out of the bandage.

“Uh,” Zayne’s tired mind forgot the excuse he’d already carefully crafted on his way home and instead, he fumbled his words. “It’s nothing. Just a scratch.”

“Zayne…” Her voice was more alert now. “They usually don't take time to seal up wounds that are ‘just a scratch’.”

She began to slide her hand down his arm and chest. Zayne winced when her hand grazed the side of his torso. His sharp intake of breath made her stop in her tracks.

“Zayne!” She said his name again, this time louder.

He opened his eyes and stared at her half-lidded. “I had to get a couple of stitches. It’s not a big deal… just be gentle with that spot please.”

His tone was strained as she pushed up his shirt to see. He let her, of course. But gauze covered a large expanse of his side making it hard for her to assess his injury.

She conceded and let his shirt fall back down. “Why did you get stitches? What happened?” She cupped his cheeks with her hands. Zayne savored the sensations letting his eyes fall shut once again.

He rooted around his brain for a good way to explain the situation that didn’t make it sound as bad as it actually was. He wondered if he could request that they talk about it in the morning, but he knew his girlfriend well, she worried about him and would need answers immediately.

“I was… shhmmm” Zayne slurred purposefully. Okay, fine… there was no dancing around it, it was bad.

“You were what?” She used her hands on his cheek to angle his face towards hers.

“...”

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that.” She said in a more stern voice.

“I was stabbed.” He finally spoke.

“What!?” Her sudden exclamation made him jolt, causing him to gasp in pain again.

“By a patient,” He added, breathing through the ache. “They were on some sort of drug that caused them to become violent. He woke up while I was examining him and pulled a knife on me. It happened so fast…” He spoke, hardly believing it himself.

The man had been unconscious when he got to the hospital and when he awoke, he sliced at Zayne and his nurse, successfully stabbing him once before his evol intervened, holding the crazed man back while Zayne and the nurse made their escape. Luckily, he was already at a hospital and had one of the other doctors patch him up before he left.

She pulled up his shirt again, her fingers sliding over the edge of the gauze with newfound concern. The dressing just kept going up and up along his torso. “It’s huge…” Her voice wavering.

“I know… It will be fine. I was given a few days off to recover.”

“You know!?” She asked. “Zayne, it’s turning purple around your ribs…” She ghosted her fingers over the discolored skin.

“Pff!” Zayne let out a laugh wiggling away from her touch.

“Zayne? Are you… giggling?” She looked at him in astonishment.

“Don’t do that,” He laughed again and moved her hand away from his stomach.

“Are you drugged up?”

For some reason that question made him giggle even more. He burst out laughing and she thought that it must have been a very potent painkiller setting in if he was this free with his emotions.

He finally calmed down enough to answer her. “Just some minor pain medication.”

“Minor…” She looked at him indignantly. “Don’t keep trying to downplay. How much did they give you? You’re positively loopy.”

“You just tickled me is all. Don’t- don’t do that again.” He could feel that his pupils had dilated, a side effect of the strong pain medication they’d given him. He looked up at her bathed in moonlight and sighed. She was “so beautiful.” He said out loud.

“Oh jeez,” She smiled, shaking her head at him. “Your gauze is way larger than just a minor wound. Don’t you think?” She tried to put him back on topic.

He nodded in agreement.

“Zayne...” She let her head hang in defeat.

He took this opportunity to sweep the hair off her face and press a lingering kiss to her forehead.

“I will be okay.” He reassured her, his warm breath flowing over her brow.

“You need to get some sleep… Sleep off some of this medication that is making you loopy and allow your body to heal.” She toyed with his brown hair, moving it off his forehead to expose the butterfly bandage again.

Zayne savored the sensation of her touch but ultimately agreed. “Let’s get some rest and spend the day together tomorrow.”

In agreement, his girlfriend pulled the covers up to engulf both of them in its warmth. She tangled her legs with his and rested her head on his chest, careful of his wound. Zayne’s hand ran up and down her back, soothing her to go to sleep.

He didn’t feel the sharpness of the pain any longer. The medication worked to subdue the sensation but also made him extremely drowsy, or was it from working a double today? He felt a tiny peck of a kiss on his lips just before sleep overcame him.

Several hours later, Zayne found himself trying to pull the covers up over his head to block the bright sun from shining directly into his bleary eyes. His watch indicated that it was only 7 AM, far too early to wake up on his day off. Four hours was not enough sleep after the exhausting double shift he had yesterday, plus, you know, getting stabbed.

He tugged the covers harder and let out a pained hiss. Sharp jolts shot from his wound making him wince. He clutched his side, brows pinching together, pleading with his body to stop throbbing. His head swam with the rush of adrenaline his body flooded him with. The pain medication was no match for the deep stab wound. It was already fading from his system.

“Are you okay?” His girlfriend roused from sleep.

“Hmm,” He nodded, but a new wave of pain made him flinch “Ah-”

“Zayne!” Worry clouded her tone.

“I just need a moment..” He managed to speak. He really didn't want to worry her.

“Did you pull a stitch?” She moved the blanket and lifted his shirt to try and peek at the bandage.

“No, I don’t think so. But I haven't moved in a while, so...” He inhaled sharply. He looked down at the gauze she was exposing. There were tiny droplets making their way through the bandage, but nothing to be concerned about.

“Do you have more pain pills?” She covered her mouth to yawn.

Zayne looked toward the bedroom door. “Yeah, there’s a prescription in my jacket pocket. It’s hanging on the coat rack in the entryway.”

“I’ll go grab them. Wait here.” She patted his arm before springing out of bed.

He saw the humor in her words, but couldn’t react beyond a pained groan.

The throbbing was finally subsiding. He struggled a bit to reach over to the pinned curtains. Managing to grab them, he yanked until it fell closed, shrouding the room from the sun's harsh rays. Zayne relaxed back on the pillow with a long exhale.

His girlfriend was back, pill bottle in one hand and a glass of water in the other.

The sight of her opening the bottle to dispense a pill, worry etched into her face, made his heart soar. It was nice having someone fuss over him for once. He didn’t have to shoulder the mental load of getting better while she was around. He, of course, did the same thing for her when she was sick. It made a part of his mind light up, realizing that this was not a relationship to be taken lightly. There was something more here, something that ran deep like roots into the ground. It was something that neither of them would be able to easily untangle from even with immense effort.

He plucked the pill from her palm and placed it on his tongue. He carefully leaned over and took a few gulps of water to down the pill. Birds began to chirp outside as the sun climbed higher. Zayne placed the ice cold water on the nightstand while his girlfriend slid back into bed with him.

“Do you need anything else?” She asked him.

“No. No, I’m good for now.”

“Try to go back to sleep,” She spoke softly, her hand pressing all around his face.

“Thank you,” Zayne wondered what possessed her to always want to touch him. It was a nice feeling, to have someone show such blatant affection for you all the time. He tried his best to always reciprocate, even if they were in public he’d try to hold her hand even if social pressure made him feel anxious about it.

She ran her fingers through his hair, and Zayne’s eyes grew heavy. He got comfortable and tried to allow sleep to overcome him once more. He listened to her slow, even breath as she settled into her usual cuddle spot by his side. He kept his eyes closed and wrapped his arm around her tightly.

After laying there for what felt like hours, he realized he was unable to sleep. The medication was starting to do its job, rushing to where he needed it the most allowing his muscles to finally relax. It took the edge off just enough for him to take deeper and deeper breaths. But still, sleep did not come. He shifted his legs, hoping to move into a more comfortable position instead of being stalk straight on his back.

“Are you still not asleep?” Her sleepy tone indicated that she had fallen into a light sleep within the last 30 minutes despite Zayne’s struggle with it.

“Sorry to wake you, I am just getting more comfortable.” Zayne shifted, angling himself on his good side. When the throbbing pain didn’t come, he relaxed into the position, facing her.

“I’m worried about you…” She confessed, her sleepy eyes meeting his in the dim room.

Zayne kissed the back of her hand then rubbed his palm along her back in reassurance. “No need to worry. I’ll be fine. I’m more worried about your sleep getting interrupted by me.”

She shook her head to dispel his worry. “This isn’t about me. You were stabbed, for goodness sake, you are allowed to be selfish in this instance.”

He let out a quiet chuckle and nodded. “Fine, I’ll be selfish Zayne from now on until I feel better.”

“Good,” She squeezed his arm in agreement.

He hummed, pressing his face closer to hers. “At least the medication is working. But…”

“But, you’re not tired…” She finished his sentence.

He shook his head. “I am tired, but my mind feels awake right now.” It was his usual hour to get up for work, and he was used to running on only a couple hours of sleep at a time. It was hard to persuade his body to allow him a bit more rest.

“What can I do?” She asked, lacing her fingers with his. Her hand was warm, and Zayne squeezed it in his grip.

“Nothing. Go to sleep. I will eventually fall asleep once the pain medication fully kicks in.”

She sighed. “But it should already be kicking in and you’re no closer to falling asleep.” They lock eyes for a long moment. “I know you, Zayne.”

He nodded, of course, she knew him. No one else knew him as well as she did. It used to make him feel too exposed, but the more he got to know her better than anyone else, the more secure he felt in allowing her to know all of his most intimate details.

“I know.” He pressed his forehead against hers. “Even if I don’t fall asleep, I won’t be getting up from this bed anytime soon.” He hoped that thought would make her feel better about allowing herself to go back to sleep.

She was quiet for a long moment, and Zayne wondered if she had actually fallen back to sleep. That is until she spoke up. “Can I try something?” Her voice was even quieter than before.

“Try what? Like hitting me over the head with a frying pan or something. I assure you, I do not need brute force to fall asleep.”

She let out a small laugh at his joke. “No… I mean, Can I try something?” Her tone was lower than before. “I know something that always makes you sleepy afterward.”

He looked at her with a questioning gaze. “What is it?”

She ran her fingers through his hair then moved him to lay down fully on his back again. Zayne lifted one brow in question but allowed her to continue since he was now getting peppered with dozens of tiny kisses across his face.

Carefully, she maneuvered lower down to his chest. Zayne stayed still, waiting with a curious air about him. His stomach muscles flexed and tensed when she got to his torso, but the pain didn’t come.

When she lifted his nightshirt and kissed just below his navel he piped up. “What, ah, what are you doing?” He tugged on her sleeve to bring her back up, but she didn’t relent.

Her small fingers untied his sweatpants. “I want to distract you from your pain,” She gave him a small shy smile. “And help you fall asleep after…” Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she tugged on the hem of his pants.

Zayne swallowed thickly, his heart kicking into gear. “You don’t have to-” Her lips trailed lower and he took in a sudden breath.

“I want to,” She made eye contact with him while she rubbed him through his boxers.

One hand stayed on her shoulder, holding her tight like it was the only thing anchoring him to reality. His other arm came up, covering his eyes with his forearm while she removed his growing erection from its confines. His pupils blew wide with the surge of adrenaline from her kitten licks, soft kisses, and the pain medicine combination. He was sure his pounding heart could be heard from a mile away.

He held back the noises that bubbled up in his throat, restraining them and controlling them into barely there grunts and small gasps. Her kisses were slow and deliberate, moving in a way that made Zayne’s head spin. He buried his face into his arm even more, his hips reacting to her touch. The tips of his ears burned as heat rose on his cheeks.

How her lips moved over him made him groan. Her tongue was warm and silky against his skin making him grow harder with each teasing lick. Zayne dared a peak, but the sight of her made the wind rush from his lungs. She was as gorgeous as ever, her eyes closed while she focused on the matter at hand. Her soft moan as she took him into her mouth sent a wave of pleasure through him.

His moan alerted her and they locked eyes for a heated moment. She gave him a sultry stare, her lush lips wrapping around him sinfully, but Zayne had to quickly look away. It was too much, the pleasure, her touch, the way she looked, it was all overwhelming. Overwhelming yet oh-so-amazing. He bit his lip to contain the growing moan that threatened to escape, hiding under his arm once again to savor the sensations.

His heels dug into the bed when her hand aided her mouth in pleasing him. Her stroke made Zayne’s hips rock gently into her palm. He enjoyed himself, focusing on the feeling of her mouth sucking him in, her smooth tongue swirling around, and her hand gripping and pumping in time with her head. His chest heaved, his mind hyper-aware of her every move.

He’d almost forgotten about the stabbing. The only reminder was the floating sensation he began to feel as the medication ran its course. It was as if he were floating on a cloud. He only knew because it wasn’t his usual sensation when he was in bed with his girlfriend.

Her lips and tongue worked him over. Each lick felt like silk over the sensitive skin and every kiss was pillowy soft driving him absolutely wild. He wondered if the medication would even allow for him to get off like how people had performance issues when it came to drinking alcohol. However, he quickly dispelled that notion. His body was obviously responding perfectly fine to his girlfriend's ministrations.

She sucked the ridge of his head, her tongue striking out to lick the leaking moisture that ran down the edge. Zayne’s hand flexed in reaction to this. He hadn’t realized just how hard his fingertips were digging into her shoulder until that very moment.

“Sorry, sorry, ah-” He removed his hand and moved it to rest atop her head instead.

She didn’t stop her work, teasing him by licking all around instead of taking him back into her mouth. Was it a small punishment for him squeezing her? He panted, his hand pressing lightly on her head to urge her for more. The slow methodical licks she gave him drove him wild. Her tongue running up and down his length sent his body ablaze.

He knew this game well. He was well aware that no amount of begging or pleading would make her stop what she was doing until she, herself, was ready to take the next step. He kept his mouth shut, hoping she’d finally take him in her mouth again so he could rapidly find the release he knew was quickly approaching.

Zayne peeled his eyes open and watched her lips wrap sensually around him. Her gaze met his, a playful sparkle dancing in her eye. His stomach filled with butterflies when she allowed him to sink back into her mouth until he hit the back of her throat.

He gasped followed by a long moan while he sent a silent ‘thank you’ to whatever deity was blessing him at this moment. His girlfriend hummed purposefully, adding a layer of pleasure to his already overwhelming experience. His forehead broke out into a sheen, dampening the hair around his face. He grabbed the sheet, his hips pushing upward to chase his own release.

He would be fooling himself if he said he didn’t think of this often. After the first time with her, it was like the floodgates opened up and, what once was a slow stride towards intimacy, was now a full-blown sprint to the bedroom every chance they got. It was always fun with her, it always felt incredible and otherworldly. Being with her in the most intimate of ways never ceased to feel surreal to him.

Her soft lips moved further down his length, taking him deeper into the back of her throat. The tightness over the tip made him see stars. The smooth friction of her tongue and lips mixed with the added sensations from her hand gripping at the base was blissful, to say the least. Zayne’s moans were out of control. He didn’t hide them anymore as his body rocked against hers.

“I-” He spoke, a moan cutting him off. “I’m close,” He warned, his large hand tightening in her hair. Zayne made sure the action wasn’t forceful, only a gentle indication for her to please don’t stop.

She sped up, taking him in her mouth over and over until Zayne’s body arched. His legs shook while he grabbed onto the bed, his hips rocking out of sync with her actions. It didn’t matter though, he was already thrown over the edge into an eternal bliss that only she could bring him to. The pulse of pleasure coursing through him made him forget about his stab wound entirely, even forgetting about the cut on his bicep he’d yet to mention.

His girlfriend finished drinking him down before finally releasing him. Zayne let out a huge sigh and relaxed back onto the mattress with a thud. She waited a moment before tucking him back into his clothes and kissing a path back up his torso to his face. He lay there motionless, immobile by the sheer nirvana he’d just experienced. She kissed his cheeks, nose, and forehead while he caught his breath.

They finally shared a kiss. It was a long passionate moment where Zayne wrapped his arms around her body and held her close. She pulled back after a long moment, then planted several small kisses on his lips like they were a ‘P.S’ after a long heartfelt letter.

It was as if he were made of lead. His arms wrapped around her as his girlfriend found a good snuggle spot right next to him. He closed his eyes, planting several more kisses on her forehead before they shared another kiss on the lips.

Zayne could hardly believe how out of shape he felt. The stab wound really took a toll on his body made even more exasperated by what his girlfriend had just done. He hugged her tight to his chest, nuzzling his face into her neck. His breathing was beginning to even out as his heart rate started to drop.

The room was silent, a stark contrast to just moments ago when Zayne’s noises filled the room. The kick of the air conditioning filled the silence with a bit of white noise.

“Do you think you can sleep now?” She whispered, her hand cupping his cheek.

He didn’t even try to open his heavy eyelids as he nodded. “Oh, yes.” He nuzzled her harder. “I think I will be able to rest easy now. Thank you,” He signed contently. “I owe you,”

She giggled. “You don’t owe me. We’re even,”

“Oh? Is that so,” He teased,

“Mhm,” She affirmed.

“In that case, I will say that I want to owe you.” He took in a deep inhale, her scent fluttering all around him.

She let out the smallest of chuckles. “If that’s what you want, I won't stop you.”

He hummed in agreement. “It’s what I want.” It's all he can think about now. If it wasn’t for the medication mixed with the rush of endorphins, he’d already have his face planted exactly where he wanted it between her thighs.

“But first, sleep Zayne.” She urged him.

“I love you,” He said, planting a small kiss on her shoulder where his face was buried.

She gave him a squeeze. “I love you too, Zayney.”

He huffed a laugh, a smile quirking up his lips.

It wasn’t long before Zayne passed out asleep. His girlfriend rubbed his back until she heard his breathing pattern change. She then followed soon behind, sleeping soundly snuggled up against his side.

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