#away where only I can undress her | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

starmapz · 4 months ago

Text

(TONGUE) TIED

𓉸 husband!ryomen sukuna x f!reader [non-curse au]

𓉸 kinktober smut oneshot

❝ you can't possibly get home fast enough in the eyes of your husband who's been undressing you with his eyes all night. to his delight, he finds that you're just as eager as he is and feeling a little freaky, which means sukuna gets to pull out your collection of toys and ropes. ❞

𓉸 warnings ; 18+ only. contains explicit content. this is kinda freaky idk what was up with me. explicit smut. rough sex. safe word established but unneeded. unprotected. manhandling. nipple play (f! receiving). neck kissing. marking. biting. toys (rabbit vibrator, nipple clamps). bondage. overstimulation. fingering. oral (f! receiving). dacryphilia. use of pet names (girl, woman, minx, princess, brat, baby). praise. choking. stomach bulge. cervix mention. light impact play. degradation (slut). creampie. cumplay. fluffy aftercare. kinda soft!sukuna?

𓉸 words ; 7.5k.

main masterlist || kinktober 2024 masterlist || love & company masterlist

Your husband has been mentally undressing you from across the table all night, his attention drawn to you as though you have your own personal gravity meant for him only. There’s barely a second throughout the entirety of dinner where his eyes aren’t filled with an unspoken fire directed at you.

It’s not like it’s unusual to catch a glimpse of Sukuna eyeing you up, but his lack of attention towards the rest of your friends at the table hasn’t gone unnoticed.

You wonder if he caught a glimpse of the crimson panties adorned in black lace with garter straps that held up your stockings and a matching crimson and lace bra before you left to meet your friends. It was intended to be a surprise for your husband for later but given that you couldn’t often find him much further than a room away from you at most, you wouldn’t be shocked if he’d noticed.

“Can ya stop undressin’ your wife at the table and listen, dumbass?” Toji’s voice is dripping with sarcasm, a brow raised as at last he manages to get Sukuna’s attention. “I was askin’ if you can watch Megs and Miki next weekend for a day so I can take my wife out on a date.”

��Hm? Ask Uraume,” Sukuna grumbles, an air of irritation around his words. The two of you are free next weekend and Uraume already stated they weren’t able to, which Sukuna would know if he’d bothered to listen.

Toji sighs but before he can explain to Sukuna what he’s missed, your heel jabs into your husband’s shin and his knee collides with the bottom of the table. The commotion silences the entire table, pulling Uraume and Shiu’s attention to the glare you’re getting from your husband. In spite of his grit teeth and clear irritation, there’s no malice behind his glare. There never is when it comes to you.

“Christ, fine, yeah, whatever,” he crosses his arms over his chest with a huff, snarling in disapproval at Toji’s teasing chuckle.

“Tell your wife thanks,” Toji launches a shit-eating grin at the tattooed man, who only sneers in return, rolling his eyes.

“Tell her yourself,” he grumbles, sulking in a way that only your stubborn husband would.

Still, his eyes are back on you and the commotion is forgotten in almost an instant when he hears your candied laugh at something Shiu’s said.

It’s not like you weren’t already planning on surprising him with new lingerie once you got home, but you could already tell you were in for a ride tonight.

And you couldn’t possibly be more right about that as he shoves you forcefully up against the door the moment you’re back at your apartment. His grip on your hips is bruising as his lips capture yours roughly.

“Fuckin’ teasing me all night, woman,” he grumbles against your lips, sliding a hand down your thigh until his fingers slip beneath the hem of your dress. Hungry, his hands explore and squeeze the plush skin of your thigh until his fingers come into contact with the garter straps keeping your stockings in place.

He pulls back from your kiss-swollen lips to grin at you with lidded eyes. “R’ these for me, princess?”

“Always, Ryo.”

“Fuck,” he mutters, dipping his head down into the crook of your neck. He hungrily nips and bites at your skin, fingers mindlessly fiddling with the straps before sliding up to where they connect with your panties.

A guttural groan leaves his lips as he the tips of his fingers brush along the decorative lace of the panties you’re wearing for him. He pulls back from your lips, pupils blown impossibly big with unadulterated lust.

“Shit, what’d I do to deserve this?” He grins with lidded eyes.

“I’m asking myself that too given how much of a menace you were at dinner,” you mumble, thumbs brushing the base of his jaw that’s slack in a playful sneer.

“Oh whatever. Actin’ like you don’t like gettin’ ogled by me,” he rolls his eyes in exasperation, squeezing your hip with the hand that’s still firmly holding you against the door. His other hand moves suddenly to brush your core, a deep chuckle leaving your husband when you gasp. “Go ahead n’ act like ya haven’t been wet all night, ya ain’t foolin’ me.”

You pout up at him, lip jutting out playfully.

But that’s just the thing about your husband. He may have more bravado than any one person could need, but it wasn’t an act. He’s right. He’s always right when it comes to you. He knows you like the back of his hand, just like he knows what it means when you dress up for him.

“Feelin’ a lil’ freaky tonight, princess?”

Your cheeks flush red at his implication, but you nod.

“You’ll use the safe word if it’s too much?” He confirms.

You nod again. “I promise, Kuna.”

The smug grin Sukuna flashes you is only in your vision for a moment before he’s throwing you over his shoulder with ease. You’ve long grown used to him manhandling you, but it doesn’t make it any less jarring when your ass is suddenly in the air and you’re clutching to the muscle shirt that hangs over his broad shoulders.

You let out a yelp as he tosses you on the mattress of your shared bed, his expression fiery with hunger. That look alone has you clenching your thighs together, an action that doesn’t go unnoticed as your husband’s tongue swipes his lower lip.

He’s on top of you in an instant, lips grazing the skin of your chest from the deep V neckline of your dress. It’s gorgeous on you, it suits you like it was designed just for you to be admired by him, but Sukuna’s lust is so overbearing he wants to tear through the neckline and have you exposed before him.

Your palms splay on his shoulders and press against the muscles to push him away, a sign that has him staring at you in confusion with one hand gripping at the fabric of your dress.

“I know what you’re thinking,” you warn. “Don’t you dare. This is new.”

He scoffs in disbelief, practically whining for you.

“You’re so impatient, Kuna,” you scold. “I’m gonna run out of clothes at the rate you rip them.”

His lip curls in frustration. “So?”

You raise a brow insistently. “I need clothes?”

“Nah, you don’t,” he grins, lowering his face back to yours to press a kiss to your lips. You tilt your head in an effort to give him better access, your hands sliding over his shoulders and around his neck as Sukuna dominantly takes control of the situation again and-

RIP.

You pull your head back. “Are you incapable of listening?” You scold him, brow furrowed.

He’s shooting you a shit-eating grin. You’ve dealt with his bullshit so long that you already know the answer is yes when it comes to things like this of little consequence. He’s got a good grasp on when the best moments are to push your buttons and much to your dismay this was one of them. Contrary to what most people would likely assume, Sukuna is a good husband, a great one even.

Words don’t come easily to him, he’s only talkative during sex and he’s frequently grumpy over inconsequential matters. He’s imposing and aloof around those he doesn’t know and seems to make a game out of scaring your co-workers the first time he meets them. He doesn’t know how to tell you that he loves you through words. It’s simply not in his vocabulary.

That’s the thing about Sukuna, he finds other ways to express his love. Ways that fill you with warmth and assure you that yes, he does love you, more than words could ever say.

Sukuna’s surprisingly attentive. Even when he seems as though he isn’t paying any mind, even when he acts as though he’s bored, he’s listening. His grumbly and standoffish attitude is little more than an act around you. He pays attention to the little things and takes care of chores when he sees that you’re too exhausted to do so. He sneaks back to stores where you mention liking something so that he can buy it for the next birthday or anniversary.

He knows your favorite flowers, he knows the kind of jewelry you like best. He knows that although you can hold your own on a motorbike, you love to be his little backpack. He knows you love to watch horror movies just to jump into his arms and have an excuse to cuddle, even though you don’t need one.

He knows the exact spots that you like to be kissed, the places that send a shiver up your spine and make your back arch and toes curl. He knows you love the way his tongue piercing feels cool in contrast to the warmth of his tongue against your clit.

He knows that when you make a point of dressing up for him like tonight, it’s with the intent of letting Sukuna have his way with you for the remainder of the night.

It’s for that exact reason that he ignores your remark about him not listening and leans down to nip at the sensitive skin of your neck, eliciting a pleasurable gasp. You grip at his shoulders for purchase, squirming beneath him as he tugs at the dress, ripping it further until he’s opened it from the front.

He feels your chest raise as you take a breath to scold him, moving fervently to capture your lips in a hungry kiss, and to shut you up. He grins against your lips, positioning himself between your thighs before he pulls back to admire you.

And god, does he ever love what he sees. The deep red and black lace of your panties and bra sets his skin alight with want, eyes trailing from the way your breasts are pushed together so deliciously down to where the garter straps attached to your panties meet the thin layer of sheer stockings that cover your legs. Everything about the lingerie, everything about you is so incredibly sexy, and he plans on making that known.

That is, after he rips everything off of you just like he did your dress.

Really, can you expect anything less from him at this point?

“Shit, y’ look gorgeous,” he breathes against the skin of your breast, holding himself above you with a strong forearm. His other hand moves to find the clasp at the back of your bra, easily releasing it and humming with delight as your breasts bounce when they’re freed.

The moment the cool air hits your nipples, Sukuna’s warm tongue licks a long, languid stripe up the left one, the contrast of his tongue piercing always sending your mind into a frenzy as you let out a moan, clutching at his shoulders.

You’re so tiny beneath him, a given when your husband is a nearly seven foot tall man with abs of steel, but it doesn’t make it any less daunting all these years later when you feel the massive tent in his pants brush your legs.

Sukuna knows better than to tear you apart without warming you up for him, though. He’ll have you cumming three times over before he dares to sheath his massive cock in your tight cunt.

Tonight is no exception. He sucks on your nipple, the sensation sending shivers down your spine as his tongue circles the sensitive bud. You can hear him fiddling with something on the bedside with the hand that’s not holding him up, but it’s a distant sound when his tongue piercing is bringing you so much pleasure.

His lips separate from the swollen skin of your breast with a pop, a satisfied smirk on his kiss-swollen lips as he pulls one of your wrists from his shoulder, pinning it above you.

“Gonna be a good lil’ wife f’r me tonight?” He growls darkly, waiting for your consent.

You nod eagerly, biting your lower lip.

Sukuna’s eyes flicker to the movement of your lips, jaw ajar as his chest rises and falls with a lust-filled hum. “Words.” It’s a command, not a question.

“Yes, Ryo,” you breathe. His tongue swipes his lower lip hungrily as he leans forward and begins to tie a very expensive soft red rope around your wrist. His movements are practiced, the action something Sukuna took extra time to research and learn to make sure you would be comfortable, even as he ties you to the headboard. Your second wrist is tied expertly as well and Sukuna pauses to press a gentle, loving kiss to your nose.

Momentarily, Sukuna’s eyes fill with adoration, but as he grabs the next rope and moves down the bed to tie your ankles to the end of the bed, that look in his eyes changes to one of dominant lust. He stands back, a predator admiring its prey, caught and splayed out beneath him. The red matches your panties in a way that sends his brain spiraling when you tug against the rope and your breasts jiggle with the effort.

“You tryin’ the run, woman?” He teases, his voice dangerously low and raspy. He knows this is as much of a game to you as it is to him when you whine in protest, eyes filled with desperation. “Needy lil’ thing.”

You pant, wriggling against the restraints as the wet patch of your panties grows increasingly uncomfortable and your need for friction increases. Your husband slips his shirt over his head, your eyes trailing the length of his built form, the way his tattoos seem to accentuate the ridges and valleys of his pecs and abs. Even in the dim light of the bedroom, he’s a work of art.

He drops his jeans to the floor, leaving only a pair of black boxers on over his aching cock. The confines of his boxers are equally as uncomfortable as he’s certain your panties slick with arousal are, but he needs to take care of preparing you to take his length before he can deal with that.

Crawling back over your body, he pinches your nipple in time with biting your lower lip, your broken whimper swallowed by his lips. The rough pads of his fingers are harsh against the swollen bud as his tongue presses into your mouth, dancing with yours dominantly.

“Gonna make you feel so good tonight, m’kay?” He pulls back to wait for your needy little nod before dipping down to lick a languid and teasing stripe straight up the wet patch of your lace panties. Your pussy tingles with anticipation as you tug hard against the expertly tied ropes binding your wrists to the corners of the bed.

With desire-filled eyes, Sukuna shoots you a devious glance as he hooks his fingers beneath the fabric of your brand new panties. Your eyes widen as you catch his train of thought. “No no no, not again Kuna, don’t you-”

RIP.

With a coy grin decorating his lips, he tosses the torn remnants of your panties aside, sliding the garter straps and stockings down your legs. You begin to let out a sigh at his actions, choking on it when the flat of his tongue meets your folds as he licks another long stripe up your needy cunt, dripping with desire. The contrast of his warm tongue and the cool metal of his piercing never fails to send a shiver up your spine.

Gasping at the sudden contact, you buck your hips towards him. Sukuna responds in turn by plunging his tongue into your entrance, large hands moving to hold you in place and keep you from your desperate wriggles. You can no longer greedily move your hips against him for friction, you’re completely at his mercy and he won’t take that opportunity for granted.

The harsh contrast of his metallic piercing against your gummy walls is something that in all these years you never did get used to, every prod of the metal sending pleasure straight to your core.

Sukuna knows this, he knows you like the back of his hand and he knows just how to drive you to your first orgasm of the night as he pulls back slightly, flicking the metal of his piercing over your clit.

He moves his tongue expertly over your clit before sucking harshly on the bundle of nerves. Pressure builds quickly in your lower stomach and you clench your fists, pulling hard against your bindings as you struggle to find purchase for your hands with nothing to grip, unable to move your legs beneath Sukuna’s insistent and bruising grip on your thighs.

With one final harsh suck and a flick of his piercing over your clit, you cry out “-Kuna!” and come undone as your orgasm washes over you in waves. Your body jolts with each languid lick of Sukuna’s tongue over your clit as he draws out your orgasm, pussydrunk lidded eyes watching your blissed out expression.

Your body goes limp and Sukuna pulls back, moving back over the bed to sloppily kiss you, your arousal coating his lips and chin as the taste of you lingers. He’s surprisingly gentle as he purrs in your ear.

“Good girl.”

Eagerly, the burly man positions himself back between your legs, rolling his shoulders back and stretching his neck to the side, a display that has you watching the way his muscles tense and relax with each movement, veins popping in his upper arms.

One look at the man between your legs always has you questioning how you got so lucky. The ridges and valleys of his abs decorated in tattoos are a sight to behold that would make anyone jealous, you might even call it a common occurrence. The real treat with Sukuna though is the way he absolutely worships the ground you walk on.

He’s cold and a downright pain in the ass to everyone else, but since the day you met him, he’s always been soft for you. That’s not to say he can’t be a pain in the ass, after all you’re now down a dress and a pair of panties, and he has a bad habit of starting arguments over things that don’t matter among other small grievances that come between you, but he’ll never let you go to sleep upset with him.

There’s no sleeping on the couch, no ignoring one another for extended periods of time. Sukuna knows he can be a dick and he knows he’s a lot to handle, but you’re his girl and he wouldn’t dare lose what he has with you.

You’re his world, and he’ll do anything for you, even if he has a funny way of showing it. Sometimes, it’s by tying you to a bedpost and fucking you until you cry.

His eyes survey your body, tongue swiping along his lower lip as he admires the swell of your breasts, your curves, landing finally on your arousal dripping from your pulsing cunt.

“Shit, y’ look like such a pretty little slut for me,” he groans, palming his painfully hard cock. What Sukuna wouldn’t give to bend you over and fuck you right now, his restraint running thin. The only thing keeping him from doing so is the thrill of having you tied beneath him and wanting to take things slow. That, and the size difference between you that begs that he prepares you to take him.

Your chest still rises and falls heavily from the aftermath of your last orgasm, but Sukuna is too eager to wait for any semblance of overstimulation to pass as he slides the tips of his fingers featherlight over your puffy lips, passing over your clit.

A light moan drags from your lips at the sensation. You lift your head to watch where Sukuna’s digits part your folds. His eyes are blackened with lust as he twists his left hand to sink his middle and ring finger into your slick entrance.

Nothing turns your husband on more than watching your arousal coat his fingers, in particular on his left hand where his wedding ring is tattooed on in the same style as the rest of his tattoos. Watching the way you drip down his finger and over the tattoo is the sole reason he got particularly good at fingering you with his left hand.

As your body eagerly swallows his fingers, he tenses his jaw as need tightens in his lower stomach. He can feel his resolve pulling taut just as his boxers are with each desperate pulse of his hardened cock.

“Kuna, ‘m sensitive, go easy on- mmph!” Your words are cut off in a gasp as you writhe in his grasp, pulling both wrists and ankles hard against your restraints when he sinks his fingers in to their hilts until the tattooed ring is buried within your pussy. You drip down his wrist as he curls his fingers expertly, wasting no time in prodding at the plush of your sensitive spot.

“Atta girl, show me how needy y’ are for me,” he purrs, eyes locked with his fingers.

“F-fuck- Ryo-” You babble words out as he speeds up his ministrations, pulling you quickly back to the edge of an orgasm.

“Y’ gonna cum on my fingers?” He grins, taking his free hand to press down gently on your lower abdomen. The tension in your stomach coils and tightens with the movement and you buck your hips, eyes shut tight as overstimulation and pleasure mix in such a beautiful union that you think you’re seeing stars behind your tightly shut eyelids.

“Y-Yes, Kuna,” you barely managed between moans and pants to answer his question as he curls his digits faster, brushing your g-spot rougher with each curl.

“No runnin’ from me, baby,” his voice is low as he presses down harder on your abdomen to stop the way you’re shuffling away from him. Tears form in the corners of your eyes from the sheer amount of stimulation that’s heightening every one of your senses and with one last curl, you pull your knees inward hard as your second orgasm of the night hits you like a ton of bricks.

The tug of your legs against the bedposts make a loud creaking noise, but the ropes don’t relent, keeping your knees apart a fair distance still. Sukuna slows his movements as he drags each wave of your orgasm out. Your moans and whimpers are like a song meant for his ears only, one that he directs with his fingers just as a conductor might direct a choir.

“Thaaaat’s it, doin’ such a good job for me, princess,” Sukuna praises as he watches your chest heave, your head thrown back as you jerk with each wave of your orgasm. Slowly, he pulls his fingers from your pulsing walls, the movement dragging a pretty moan from your lips. Your body trembles, muscles twitching with each convulsion as you come down from your climax.

“Look at me,” your husband instructs commandingly, leaning over you. You obey, heavily lidded eyes finding his handsome face. “Open.”

When you part your lips, Sukuna brings his fingers to them, sinking his digits into your mouth. You make eye contact as you swirl your tongue around his fingers, drinking in your own juices. Sukuna can’t help the groan that leaves from deep within his throat at the sight of his wedding ring disappearing within your lips as you obediently lap up and clean his fingers.

In truth, he could watch this for hours if he weren’t throbbing in the confines of his boxers still.

“Such a good lil’ slut,” he moans, pulling his fingers back as he leans over you to kiss and suck on the skin at the top of your breast. Leaving a trail of hickeys at the edge of your breast, he soothingly laps at the bruising skin, following suit up to the crook of your neck as he decorates you in bites, painting you with purple markings that glisten with his saliva in the soft evening light coming through the window.

Your brain is foggy in the wake of your second orgasm and you watch as Sukuna suddenly hops to his feet before languidly making his way over to the bedside table.

“Y’ think you can handle me yet?” He asks, tilting his head in a cocky manner. You nod your head eagerly, but your husband clicks his tongue. “Silly woman,” he huffs, leaning down to a drawer filled with-

Oh fuck.

You squirm against your bindings, whining at the realization that Sukuna has his heart set on pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you tonight before he cums even once.

“You whining as though ya didn’t ask for this?” He chuckles, standing at his full height again with a cute pink rabbit vibe in one hand and a pair of nipple clamps in the other.

“Kuna, just wait a bit,” you beg, tugging on your restraints again. “‘M sensitive.”

“Sensitive?”

You nod.

“Was it not you beggin’ me the other day to fuck you through your oversensitivity, y’ lil’ brat?” He scoffs, tilting his head with his lips slightly parted. He sneers slightly as his eyes roll. “Oversensitive,” he taunts.

With that, there’s no escaping your husband as he crawls from the end of the bed towards you, splaying your legs further apart with his forearms as he sets the vibrator to the side. Your chest rises and falls with each heavy breath as you watch his movements.

Holding himself over you, he places several soft pecks on your left nipple, causing it to grow perky. Sukuna presses the flat of his tongue to the sensitive skin, flicking it with his piercing as it catches the bud. Your head is thrown back in a moan, fist balling as you tug at the rope.

The tattooed man catches you off guard as your eyes blearily rest on the ceiling while he clamps the first side to your left breast. You gasp, followed shortly by a whimper.

“Look so fuckin’ hot with this shit on,” he groans, following his movements on your right breast. With a flick of his tongue over your perky nipple, you moan again and he takes the opportunity to place the next clamp over the hardened bud.

Your back arches off the mattress as you cry out. With the chain in one hand, he leans back to admire you, tugging on them and smirking when you whimper. The sensation makes your head spin as your pussy pulses and drools for your husband.

“Shit.”

He’s aching in the confines of his boxers, cock throbbing and tip leaky, but he won’t waste this opportunity to have you tied and at his grace. It may be his absolute favorite thing to have you bound on the bed for him, but this is all about you. He wants the bed soaked below you before he even has the chance to get his dick wet.

He picks up the rabbit vibrator, your favorite out of the drawer of toys and one of his favorites to use on you and teases your entrance with it. The toy is cool, the cold silicone sending a pleasurable shiver up your spine.

With a tug on the chain of the nipple clamps, Sukuna sinks the tip of the dildo portion of the vibrator into your leaky cunt, your arousal from your previous two orgasms enough lube to allow the toy to slide easily into your entrance. He watches your lips part, back arching as he hits the first ring of resistance.

“It’s too much-” you squeak, just as Sukuna pushes the toy in deeper. You moan his name, pulling hard on your restraint as you attempt to reach out to him and stop his movement. He does pause to allow you a chance to adjust, though he knows you’re babbling about it being too much purely from overstimulation as tears prick in your eyes.

Dropping the clamp chain over your stomach, he reaches out to wipe your tears. “Doin’ so good,” he hums. You whimper as he sinks the toy in further. His muscular forearm flexes as he presses the toy heavily to your g spot.

“Ryo- Please,” you writhe against the rope as pleasure coils in your stomach once more. With the dildo fully sunk into your gummy walls, the rabbit vibe now sits comfortably against your clit, prodding at it as Sukuna twists his wrist lightly, the pressure of both sides of the toy sending you into a state of pure bliss.

The bliss is short-lived as Sukuna turns the vibrator to the lowest setting and your body jerks and jolts from the stimulation.

“Too much-! Toomuchtoomuch-” You cry out between gasps as you attempt to run from the toy. Sukuna’s large hand grips your waist tightly as he holds you in place. Not like you were meant to get far anyway with how well he’s tied you down.

“Shut up n’ take it, princess. You’re the one who asked for this when ya let me tie you up,” Sukuna growls, a familiar lust-filled darkness clouding his eyes as he kisses your inner thigh.

You shake your head wildly, but the overstimulation gives way quickly when he turns the vibration setting up a notch. You shut your eyes tightly with a moan as you arch into the toy.

“That’s it, baby. Gimme another orgasm, yeah?”

You swallow hard as you pull yourself up the bed barely an inch with a hard tug against the rope. Sukuna hums at the sight of your foggy eyes when they open once more, your head rising to watch where the toy meets your clit, the dildo swallowed by your needy cunt.

With the vibrating portion prodding your clit, Sukuna keeps it steady while twisting the rest of the dildo to brush your g spot with quick and rough thrusts. You can feel a third climax fast approaching as you arch against the toy, pressing into the vibrator.

With a click of a button, the vibrator goes up one more setting and you’re crying out suddenly as it pushes you over the edge.

As your walls clamp and pulse around the toy, your juices flowing out around the pink silicone, your moans become screams as overstimulation rocks you. The vibration is absolutely too much and yet you can’t get enough of it, squirming and wriggling in an attempt to escape the relentless friction.

Only when your cunt stops gushing out around the toy does Sukuna turn it off, leaving the dildo buried to the hilt within you as your chest heaves. With a sloppy squelch, the toy is pulled from within you and set aside. You shudder as you’re given a moment’s respite from the stimulation, your head falling back as you catch your breath.

“Whattaya think, pretty? You ready to take me yet?” Sukuna teases, waiting for you to meet his eyes. Your head swings up as you nod your head.

“Please baby,” you beg in such a saccharine sweet voice that Sukuna can’t help but indulge you. Well, that and the tension in his cock is growing physically painful, twitching against the confines of his boxers. It stands alert, slapping against his abdomen as it’s freed from the fabric.

“Since y’ beg so nice for me,” he purrs, sliding out of his boxers with his slutty upper thigh tattoos now fully on display. He positions himself over you, sliding his length through your folds repetitively and covering it in your slick as he leans down to capture your lips in a rough kiss. Holding himself up on one forearm, he wraps his free hand delicately around your throat as his thumb strokes the side of your neck.

You whimper at the friction provided by his cock, desperate to have him inside you, all the while the overstimulation clouds your brain and you can hardly make sense of any thoughts. All you know is lust and need. You pull against your restraints in an attempt to wrap your legs around Sukuna’s waist and pull him down, but it’s no use.

Your husband chuckles at your pathetic whimpers and whines that get swallowed by his hungry tongue shoved down your throat. “Poor thing,” he coos, pulling back to kiss a line up your jaw. “Such a needy lil slut for me.”

Sitting back on his heels, he reels his hips back and ruts his cock against your clit once before he positions himself at your entrance. Your body jerks as cum leaks from your cunt. Sukuna keeps his gaze fixed on your expression as he tugs once on the chain of the nipple clamps, pulling a whimper from your pretty, kiss-swollen lips. As your lips part, he drops the chain between them, biting his lip as the petite chain decorates your mouth so prettily.

His cock throbs again and he can’t wait a moment longer as he pushes the angry red tip of his cock into your pussy. Your head falls back into the plush pillows as he stretches you and pain and pleasure mix with overstimulation. It’s such an overwhelming sensation that your abdomen coils and pressure builds immediately.

At nearly seven feet tall, it’s no surprise that Sukuna is big, but being both long and thick is always a shock on your system, even after years of being with him. The size difference is immense and even three orgasms deep, your walls are tight around him as he pushes past the first ring of resistance.

Sukuna reaches forward with a groan, large hand wrapping around your throat once again. “Doin’ so good, my little minx,” he hisses as he continues to feed you inch after inch of his cock. His thumb gently rubs soothing circles into the skin of your neck until he bottoms out. He remains still, giving you a moment to adjust and uses the opportunity to lean down and press an uncharacteristically sweet kiss to your lips.

“Still good, princess?” He asks in a tender tone you don’t hear all that often from your gruff husband. He knows he can get carried away when you let him bind you to the bedposts and with the size difference between you, he wants your full consent before he considers moving.

You nod, bedposts creaking as you attempt to move your hand to cradle his face, unable against the restraints.

“Words, princess.”

“I’m good, Kuna,” you assure him in a muffled voice as you speak around the chain residing between your lips.

“Good girl,” he purrs, pushing himself up to watch where your bodies connect as he begins to rock his hips backwards in a slow pace, watching his cock sink back into you. He positions himself to brush your g spot with each languid thrust and as you moan and throw your head back once more, Sukuna’s fingers begin to put pressure on your throat. He restricts your oxygen with expertly placed fingers, your jaw going slack at the sensation.

Your mind goes blank, overtaken by a foggy high as all you can feel is Sukuna’s pace beginning to increase, each thrust sending pleasure through your body like a bolt of lightning. The ropes tied to you are pulled taut at each limb as you attempt to reach out and cling to your husband for purchase.

“Shit, you’re squeezin’ me so tight,” Sukuna groans hoarsely, relenting on your throat and letting oxygen back into your lungs as he slides his hand down between the valley of your breasts to feel your stomach. He places light pressure on your lower abdomen, the feeling of the bulge of his cock beneath his hand setting his entire body on fire.

Like you’ve set him off, he leans back and unties your ankles suddenly. Now unbound, you attempt to move your legs to straddle his waist and pull him deeper, but Sukuna has other plans.

You whine when he pulls out suddenly, loosening your arm bindings by about a foot on each side so that he can flip you onto your forearms and knees. Your forearms are nearly positioned in an ‘x’ below you thanks to the cross-sections of the ropes still tied to the headboard. The chain of the nipple clamp falls from your mouth as the clamps themselves brush against the blankets beneath you. The friction sends shivers through your body.

With your ass exposed to him, your husband lets out a guttural groan, nearly an animalistic growl as he kisses the plush flesh of your left cheek before biting down. You yelp in surprise, jumping as you attempt to get a glance of the hungry look in his eyes. Crimson eyes stare back at you as he licks the spot soothingly seconds later.

He presses a peck to your opposite ass cheek as well, nipping the flesh more gently than the previous one as he leaves his mark on your skin alongside the purple decorating your neck and collar.

Leaning back, he stands tall on his knees behind you and pushes back into your sopping pussy in one swift movement. You cry out in pleasure for him, fingers finally able to grip at the sheets for purchase and ground you as you become starry-eyed in pleasure again.

With a harsh slap to your ass, his hand slides down the small of your back and up your spine until he reaches your hair. Leaning over you, he presses you into the mattress, muffling your moans and screams with the blankets beneath. He keeps up his meteoric pace, every thrust causing your abdomen to twist and coil until you’re teetering over the edge, threatening to come undone beneath him.

“Ryo, I’m gonna- fuck-!” A muffled cry leaves your mouth between babbles as your legs quake in an effort to keep you upright. Your whole body jerks and shakes beneath Sukuna, your walls milking him for all that he��s worth. You’re so tight, gummy walls sucking and squeezing him so much that his movements grow sloppy, a sure sign he’s about to cum too.

“Ah shit, feels so good when you cum around me,” he groans, staring down at the ring of white arousal that coats the base of his cock. He wraps his free arm around your middle to keep you upright and held flush to him as your legs give out on you as he thrusts harder, the tip of his cock brushing your cervix. The sounds of skin on skin slapping in the room is so lewd and hot that it makes Sukuna’s head spin.

In a few more thrusts, Sukuna’s climax finally hits after a night of denying himself any amount of pleasure all for having you tied beneath him. The amount of cum that paints your walls is immense as his warm arousal fills you up and spills out around his thick member. His abs tense with each wave of his orgasm as he continues to thrust until your walls have milked every last ounce of cum from him.

He leans over you as he stills, holding himself up over your bare body as both of your chests heave in an effort to catch your breath. Both of you jerk and jolt on occasion as the aftershocks of your orgasms pulse through you.

With a kiss to the small of your back, Sukuna leans back on his knees, staring down at his throbbing length as he pulls out of you. He hisses through his teeth as your walls attempt to suck him back in.

“Shit,” he mumbles as he watches his cum leak from your pussy, dripping down onto the blankets beneath you. Running his tongue over his lower lip, he gathers some of the cum on his fore and middle fingers and presses them back into your pulsing cavern.

You gasp in surprise, entirely too overstimulated and your husband chuckles when your body jerks in response to that feeling before collapsing fully onto the mattress.

Pulling his fingers out, he deftly flips you back over and presses his fingers between your lips. You suck on the digits, cleaning the fluids from his fingers obediently with a hum. Sukuna smirks at you with lidded eyes as he pulls his digits back from your lips with a pop!

“Y’ did so good for me, princess,” he praises as he removes the knots from around your wrists and removes the nipple clamps to set them aside. Your eyes are still noticeably foggy as you come back down from your fourth and most intense orgasm of the night, so Sukuna takes the initiative to take care of you.

Sukuna isn’t the most adept when it comes to your emotions. If you aren’t blunt with him, he’ll often miss the signs that you’re upset and brush past any clues you drop for him. He may not always catch on to little hints you provide him, but he does try his best to keep an eye on you and provide nonetheless. That includes knowing exactly what the best kind of aftercare looks like for you.

He checks over both of your wrists and ankles for any sign that your harsh tugging on the ropes hurt you at all but he’s done far too much research to allow the ropes to bring you any harm.

Taking in a breath, he gets to his feet and starts the shower, reaching an arm out to test the temperature. When it reaches the temperature you prefer, he returns to the bed and lifts you easily into his arms bridal style. He relishes in the way you subconsciously cling to him, nuzzling your face into his chest like the monstrous biker with a reputation for being an asshole is your own personal hero.

Reaching the washroom, he gently places you on your feet although he knows your knees will buckle beneath you, so he holds you tightly to him, doing all the work as he moves the both of you into the shower as one.

As warm water washes over you and cleans all traces of sweat and other fluids from your body, Sukuna simply holds you tightly against him. When he feels you bury your face into his pecs after a couple of minutes, arms encircling his torso tightly, he knows you’re coming down from your climax.

“How d’ you feel, baby?” He asks. After sex is one of the few moments he does tend to get tender and gentle with you. He knows on any other occasion you can match his snide comments and keep him under wraps, but when it comes to aftercare he knows better than to get on your nerves.

He wants to keep you happy and in a state of bliss for as long as he can, enjoying the sweet and doting version of his wife he always gets after dicking you down so good that you can’t walk- which is exactly what he just did.

“Mmm, good, Kuna. You?”

He chuckles at the dreamy way your words come out, light as a feather on cloud nine. “Yeah me too, baby.”

Sukuna cleans you up as you move in slow motion post-orgasm, though he always keeps an arm around your waist to ensure you stay upright. It’s a sweet sentiment, knowing just how willing he is to not only do all the work of showering for the both of you but also hold you upright the entire time as well.

Once you’re both clean, he places one last kiss to the crown of your head, squeezing you tightly to him. He shuts the shower off and dries both of you off before finding his muscle shirt to throw over your head. It hangs off of you like a dress, the long holes on both sides where the sleeves have been cut off revealing the swell of your breasts.

Your husband’s head tilts as he admires the sight of you draped in his shirt, a yawn overtaking your features. He can’t help but to think of just how lucky he is to have married the hottest woman on the planet. And to think that woman lets him tie her up?

His cock throbs at the thought and he needs to push it aside out of fear of breaking you. He gets you settled in bed, pulling the covers over you before he pulls on a pair of boxers.

Sukuna slides into bed behind you, pulling you flush to him as his strong arms wrap around your middle. He buries his head into your shoulder, inhaling the fresh scent of floral body wash. Everything about you lulls him into a comfortable near-sleep state as you hum contentedly in front of him, feeling safe and happy in his embrace.

“I love you, Ryo,” you whisper over the dulled sounds of cars outside the window.

“Mhm, I know, brat.”

Sukuna may not say he loves you with words, but he shows that he does through the way he takes care of you. As his fingers move to gently card through your hair, you know Sukuna is showing that he loves you too.

main masterlist || kinktober 2024 masterlist || love & company masterlist

𓉸 a/n ; thanks for reading! i had so much fun with this one, please feel free to check out my husband!sukuna au that inspired this work and as always reblogs, comments, and likes are super appreciated ♡

𓉸 taglist ; @tojis-ball-sack @rathreads @sukunadckrider @nxcxllxsevens @r0ckst4rjk

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solbaby7 · 6 months ago

Text

En Cognito

pairing: azriel x reader

warnings: swearing, misogyny, best friends that wanna fuck, sexual tension, possible violence, jealous!az, slowly shifting into slight darker content 👀 hope no one notices

summary: Going undercover alters your appearance more than your friends ever anticipated—now Azriel can’t tear his eyes away.

—

“Stop touching and just relax.”

“I can’t,” You squirm under Mor’s touch. Two hours spent around the city spending obscene amounts of money on a dress and heels that you were only going to wear once. Nimble fingers part through your hair, undoing paper curls and oiled fingers run through the ends of silky strands. Everything is too tight—too exposed. “I am deeply uncomfortable.” Your arms cross behind your back, fingers awkwardly intertwining to create some sort of barrier between your ass and the possibility of peering eyes.

The High Lords cousin doesn’t take it personally, quickly finishing final touches on your makeup and the person you see in the mirror is so far off from what you were used to that it makes your breath catch. “It’s perfect. You’re going to be perfect—they won’t be able to keep their eyes off of you.”

Your hand shakes at the thought, painted fingers curling around the glass of champagne and knocking the whole thing back in one go.

“You’re going to ruin your lipstick.”

“If I don’t have at least two more of those, I’m going to ruin this whole night.” It felt weird having your hair down like this and your fingers twitch to tuck it back into your usual bun but Mor keeps throwing looks over her shoulder while she refills both glasses. Just daring you to fuck up her work.

After the second glass your brain finally stops hyper-fixating on the fact that you can actually feel the bare skin of your thighs touching with each step, an annoying change from the leathers that usually prevented things like this. “It’s just a few dances. Bat your lashes and smile pretty and the intel will come to you, I’m sure of it.”

“I don’t think one dress will get me all of that.”

“It’s not about the dress.” She’s rubbing oil into your skin that makes it shine when the light touches, the sweet smell lingering long after you’ve left the room and the whole walk downstairs is filled with gentle reminders on everything she’d been teaching you all week. “It’s you in it. Seriously, where have you been hiding all of this ass?” You swat her hands away, grateful that the others had left far earlier. You could just hear Az and Cass now, eyes rolling at the very thought of their relentless teasing—this would be the topic of many jokes for weeks to come.

Slight sway of your hips, soften the length of your spine, shoulders back and head high. Confident steps even though the heels were fucking killer; five inches of added height and you’d still feel small in a room crawling with fully grown men. The champagne glass is finished and refilled once more before you’re tugged away to the balcony and past the wards.

Usually, winnowing was calming but for some reason, this time it had the hairs on the back of your neck prickling at attention from all the eyes that slid in your direction. “That was subtle.”

“We’re late,” Mor mutters through her teeth, flashing a less than sweet smile to the males undressing her with their eyes. Typical for Hewn City but still fucking disgusting. “I figured a flashy entrance would distract from that. Now, be nice.”

Easier said than done with anxiety beginning to ebb forth, fingers flexing and nails running over the details of your dress. The words from earlier repeat in your mind and instantly your spine straightens, chin raising and the added swish to your hips is enough to attract the attention of any male within a five mile radius.

It’s customary to greet the High Lord and Lady, your heels clicking and face aloof when swiftly curtsying into a respectful bow. “Rise,” Feyre commands, voice strong and filled with unquestionable power but you could see that look in her eye—familial fondness creeping at the edges of blue irises and you’re quick to appear anxious. Less comfortable when surrounded by people you’d known longer than you could put into words. “Join the others, there’s plenty of food and drink for everyone.”

Better judgement screams in your mind not to look just a little to the right; your peripheral catching onto the faint glow of cobalt blue but your eyes slide over without permission.

Azriel looks godly standing guard near his High Lord and Lady. He’s handsomely dressed in one of his fancier pairs of fighting leathers, lethally strapped to the nines with daggers at his thighs, switchblades tucked in pockets or strapped to his ankles and swords that cross at his back, right between his wings.

Like an angel of death; just as tempting as he was deadly.

You look away before he can catch you admiring the tailored cut of sturdy, dark tactical gear stretching across his muscles. Too quickly for you to notice the way he double takes, eyes widening a fraction and stance stiffening ever so slightly when he recognizes the slope of your nose and shape of your mouth glistening in gloss. He nearly chokes on his breath at the accentuation of your figure, curves on full display in a complete juxtaposition to your usual attire and his stare follows as you disappear into the crowd of bodies.

He can’t leave his spot but it doesn’t stop him from sending out his own personal surveillance to keep tabs on the way you shift about the room.

Everywhere you move, eyes follow.

Males halt their conversation, sipping on whiskey so expensive that it probably equates to a months worth of rent but judging by their tailored suits and gold cuff-links—money was the least of their problems.

“A drink, miss?”

Relief works its way into your form when you accept, thanking the waitstaff politely while acting your ass off with the fluttery lashes and doe eyes. It paints a perfect little picture—entrapping susceptible males with overly inflated egos and misogynistic thought processes. You’re almost a little too deep in the facade, aimlessly wandering through the sea of bodies with ears specially attuned to every conversation; sifting through the meaninglessness in order to catch little pieces of a bigger picture that had yet to be deciphered.

“And who might you be?”

“Nobody.” The response is instinctive, a second nature that’s easily smoothed over with a demure smile.

Even you could admit the male was handsome, all solid muscle and alluringly ragged edges. His suit is immaculate, fitting the strong line of his shoulders to perfection as the halfway unbuttoned tunic beneath broadcasts the tawny tones of his chest loitered with inky tattoos. Dark hair frames his face, a silver scar cutting through the thick of one brow and yet its completely overshadowed when in the midst of such beauty. “You certainly don’t look like ‘nobody’ to me.”

Warmth spreads at the nape of your neck, your body affected by the soulful bass of his voice and for a fleeting moment you have to remind yourself of the task at hand.

The male doesn’t give time for you to come up with another one of your carefully curated lies. A hand is extended your way, the faelight above catching on the masculine rings adorning his pinky and pointer fingers when your hand is taken in his own.

It’s almost embarrassing—the spectacle he makes in spinning you slow, taking in every detail with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

Thank the Mother for Mor and her attention to detail, picking out the perfect dress and glimmering diamonds that distracted from the true soldier that burned in your soul, a characteristic that had been exercised for decades enduring Cassian and Azriel’s relentless training regiment.

“Whoever you’ve come with will never recover from the loss he’s about to take,” The males eyes are ravenous, that previously bored darkness finally flickering with life beneath the surface.

The surprised laugh you let out is genuine, a shocked bark of a thing that’s anything but ladylike but he doesn’t seem to mind. “You have a very high sense of self in assuming I’d go anywhere with you considering I don’t have the slightest clue on who you are.”

Another lie added to the steadily growing web. You’d been briefed on every single person in this room, memorized their faces and obsessively studying their lives and known connections until the only thing left was to figure out who possessed the most valuable information. “Who better to trust than Stewards right hand?” Feminine wonder masks the satisfaction of such an easily attained lead and suspicion begins to grow in your gut. Maybe it’s not as well concealed as you’d assumed because the cockiness is dialed down multiple levels and the smile he wears is far more flattering than that entitled smirk. “Call me Atlas.”

Music filters throughout the space and steadily the sea of bodies becomes more uniform, paired up couples shifting about the room with a hardened grace that allowed their movements to appear elegant, even if their faces were stripped of any semblance of emotion. “Atlas,” The name is foreign on your tongue but not entirely unpleasant. “Have any clue where they keep their stash?”

A cheshire grin accompanies the muscular bicep he holds out in offering. “Allow me to lead the way.”

Everything goes as planned, a knowing nod to Mor, a giddy smile when the Stewards second hand tugs you down a hallway, bypassing stationed guards and passing over a small pouch of silver coins to the scrawny soldier standing in front of a thick set of double doors. “Where are we going?”

“You wanted the good stuff. Kier keeps them in his office.” High heels click against the polished floors, taking in the layered colors of obsidian, onyx and oblivion. It’s typical for a male, simple, with just enough overindulgence to make your eyes roll.

“Are we supposed to be in here?”

Atlas moves across the space with ease, unlatching the lock on the liquor cabinet and collecting two glasses and a thick crystal decanter filled halfway with a deep amber liquid. “Are you going to tell on me?”

Every movement you make hold more grace than you’ve mustered up in a century. Femininity oozes from every pore and it’s intoxicating—this males reaction to the slightest graze of your nails against his fingers. It plants a terrifying seed, one eager to learn exactly how far you could take it. How many other people would react the same way?

Your mind takes a turn, sliding a key into a door you’d long since boarded up.

And you can’t help but wonder if the simple seduction would work on Azriel too.

“I can be convinced to keep a secret,” Magic must be used to keep the liquor chilled because the crystal is cold to the touch. “If you show me the balcony too.”

Atlas nods slowly, taking your words entirely different than intended but you don’t bother correcting it. Not when he strides over to the doors with such ease, pulling out a personal set of keys and unlocking them as if he’d done so a million times before.

You supposed Hewn was a sight to behold from this angle, high heels click against the concrete, bracelets clinging against the iron railings as you peer over. In its own, hauntingly beautiful way; a darker part of you could find the appeal if you overlooked the horrors that took place there.

“Now, I’ve snuck you out here, breaking all kinds of rules and jeopardizing my job for you.” If it’s the truth, Atlas has a hell of a way of making it seem nonchalant—every word laced in an amusement you can’t quite place but it’d be lying to say you didn’t find it slightly charming. “Will you finally tell me your name?”

There’s a mischievous sparkle in your eye, a taunting elongation of one leg, the shiny curve of your high heel dragging gently against his ankle. You almost answer when your eyes catch on the shadows in the corner, their color just a little too dark, their ebb just a little too sentient. Of course, Azriel would follow you out there when he believed you were taking too long, playing the perfect position of Night Court security when urging guests away from restricted areas but jealously slips its way into his tone when he finds you and Atlas on the balcony standing a little too close to be considered friendly. “You aren’t supposed to be out here.”

The male with you doesn’t seem the slightest bit deterred, cockily tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear while the other hand fishes out a small pouch full of gold coins from his suit pocket and rudely stuffs it into Azriel’s chest without even looking. “How about you go back inside and give us a few uninterrupted moments to get to know each other?”

Azriel’s brow raises, wings bristling when tracking the two fingers Atlas has grazing down your cheekbone and his tone is eerily even when responding. “Did you come alone tonight?”

“Yes,” Atlas retorts none the wiser, a smirk curving at the corners of his mouth. “Though, I have no intentions on leaving how I came.”

“Is that so?” It happens so quickly. Azriel snatching the male away from you, his fist darting out and connecting with Atlas’ jaw with such precision that the impact sends the Steward’s second in command unconscious on the cobblestone. “Mission’s over,” Azriel all but growls, his grip possessive when pulling you in. “We’re leaving.”

“Azriel,” Your eyes widen, glass slipping from your grasp as your brain moves like molasses when trying to comprehend what you’d witnessed. It doesn't bother Az though, his hand a firm weight at the dip of your back, pinky finger just grazing the curve of your ass with every step. “I wasn’t even close to being finished—he was about to give me everything.”

“Oh, I’m more than aware of what he was about to give you.”

He looks like he’s readying himself to winnow the two of you out of there, thick clouds of shadows materializing around his threatening frame but something forces him to decide against it. His jaw clenches, stance rigid and voice clipped when telling you to 'come this way', taking a sharp left turn before shoving your body inside. “Azriel, what the hell?”

“Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing.” The door slams behind him, lock twisting with a resounding click but none of that distracts from the downright murder-strut Azriel adopts when stalking towards you. Your heart hammers against your chest, heels scraping against the polished floors in your attempts to create space but the male before you eats it all up. “Do you have any idea what you’ve been doing to me?”

The laugh that pushes free is breathless; taken aback. “What?"

A war wages in Azriel's mind as he strains to contain the small semblance of control he's ever been able to gather in your presence. You make him crazy; shove him out of his comfort zone and force him to take risks that his skillful training strictly rejects. You're an enigma, a flame that burns but also provides warmth to those who handle you with care. “I thought you in your leathers was sin.”

You swallow thickly as your body responds to the drop in his voice; the gravel that positively rattles his tone and morphs that strong soldier boy into a predator of a man with ravenous wants and needs. Rapturous desires that plagues his thoughts, tainting his actions and lingering in the void of his shadows with intent to kill.

Shock blends into need as Azriel backs you against the desk, the rigid line of his cock straining against the stitching of his leathers. It digs against your belly; teasing, taunting you with the possibilities. “But then you come waltzing in wearing this dress—cauldron boil me—are you even wearing any underwear?”

"I couldn't," A blush burns at your cheeks, every inch of you sparking to life under his stare. "Mor said panty lines are tacky."

"Then it'd be best you refrain from telling her what happens in here because I'm about to make you sound fucking garish." Hips buck involuntarily, a helpless rut whittling away at whatever self-control Azriel has left. It’s clearly not much because soon his lips are too preoccupied with learning yours and strong hands are busy familiarizing themselves with the curves you usually kept so carefully concealed. Eager fingers run over the tight fabric around your waist, gliding over the length of your stomach and cupping the weight of your breasts, thumbs grazing over peaked nipples. Mapping the canvas of your body like a man starved.

Denying his touch is out of the question; at least that’s what your body decides as it leans into the heavy drag of his weight. For once, you lean into the girlish nature of allowing the male to lead—to comply as Azriel guides your face to his own. Indulging in feverish kisses because he started it and it was only fair for you to finish it.

The lines of friendship blur with his tongue in your mouth and you’re too drunk on the scent of his cologne to question what any of this could mean afterwards. What chaos could ensue from helping him hike the hem of your dress up, up, up with a needy groan. “Can’t believe you hid all of this from me,” Azriel all but whines, golden irises gobbling up the fullness of your thighs. Pupils dilate at your lack of undergarments; the thin leather thigh holsters strapped tight against the muscle of your legs and inky shadows swipe at the weapon secured there—stealing it as a prize.

“Can you blame me?” The words come out breathy, palms dragging along rigid muscle hidden beneath his clothes, nails seconds away from slicing through the offending fabric for more of his warmth, for more of him in general because this male was a thing of dreams. Of carefully curated fantasies that females with far more time on their hands wrote about in their journals. “How would I get any work done with everyone staring at my ass?”

His touch is bold, two fingers sliding between your thighs to slide along the slick that collects between lower lips. "That won't be an issue for you anymore." A gasp forces your lips to part when he circles around your clit, feeling the area around it without actually giving what you want. Azriel likes it more that way; enjoys the ways your legs tremble and chest heaves. "You'll find that people don't stare much at the things that belong to me."

"I'm not yours," You struggle to verbalize the thought fully when he finally applies the right amount of pressure to your neglected bundle of nerves. Quick little circles under the calloused drag of two fingers works a strangled moan free. "I don't belong to anyone," You try to speak it aloud so the point comes across but all that's leaving your lips is pathetic pants of yesyesyes and pretty pleas for moremoremore.

He’s cruel in his torture, pulling his hands away seconds before release can wash over you and a cocky smirk etches in the corner of his mouth. It’s knowing; cognizant of the fact that your orgasm lies in the palm of his hands, rests under the willful press of his fingertips.

“Please?” You whisper, voice cracked; broken, ruined from nothing but his hands alone and you still hadn’t cum yet. Every nerve burns, toes curling, stomach clenching and pussy pulsing around nothing as your hips careen forward—searching for the sweet friction that Azriel just knows how to provide.

You thank the Mother for his lack of revolve, for it had to be her mercy that allows his stubborn defenses to crumble so quickly. To give in and offer everything you’d been begging for . He’s not kind about it; doesn’t coax the orgasm forward but yanks at it like a dog on a leash. It’s claiming the way he watches you through your high, drinking up your sounds and committing the slick sight of you to memory.

He doesn’t even give you enough time to catch your breath before he’s tugging his leathers down his hips, thick fabric bunching at his thighs. “Save your pretty pleas for soft pricks like Aaron.”

“Atlas.”

Azriel’s brow raises, a subtle twitch of muscle that shouldn’t be as threatening as it is. Or at least it wouldn’t be if it wasn’t followed by the ominous drag of his cock through your folds, the heavy weight of him coating itself in your slick.

You know he wants to say something. It’s hanging off the tip of his tongue; some venomous comment fueled by raw, unbridled jealousy. Some sick part of you wants him to say it—maybe then he’ll admit to his feelings; confessing to the tension that permeates when the two of you enter a room or share a joke or brush arms or get a little too heated during training.

“I believe your role tonight is soft and demure,” His voice is deceptively even considering the rough jolt of his hips that bullies the blunt head of his cock deep inside of you. “So don’t use that mouth of yours unless it’s to tell me how good I fucking feel.”

Az holds true to his word because every time your lips part to make some stupid comment for him to slow down or loosen his grip on your hips because you’re sure bruises are forming—Azriel just fucks you harder. Presses the palm of his hand against your mouth to muffle the moans, to seize the symphony of sighs that gasp free when he treats sensitive spots with such aggression.

He can feel your legs shaking, tuts his tongue in hushed amusement when he catches you trying to inch away; searching for a spare second to catch your breath. “Where d’you think you’re going?”

No mercy is shown for your choked breaths when Azriel’s focused on the ripple of your ass with each thrust. “It’s so fucking deep,” The words come out garbled against his palm and it’s only then that he pulls it away, fingers ghosting over the swollen plush of your lips in silent appreciation.

“Filthy pussy’s just sucking me right in,” Your cheeks burn, lids fluttering closed as you try not to acknowledge the fact that his voice and those syllables strung together is just enough to have you clenching around him; slick gushing down the length of him and dripping from the heavy weight of his balls.

A sharp smack of his hand against the fat of your ass; the perfect pinch of pain to accompany the mind-numbing pleasure that wracks through every nerve. “Azriel!”

“Now you remember my name?” His tone is pure venom, every rational part of his brain clouded with envy, leaking with a bitterness that scrunches up the perfect lines of his face. “Can’t believe you were about to give this up to that fucking ingrate.” Cool air breezes against your sex as your ass is lewdly pried open enough for Azriel to stare at the sopping wet mess you make. “Not after I’ve been waiting so godsdammed long for this—for you.” A creamy ring of your cum catches at the base of his cock; cunt clenching over and over and over as he works you through orgasm after orgasm.

Mumbled praises and keening moans are your only reply, knees bending for better leverage as you lean back into the pace he sets. Screw the mission—fuck the objective. Damn anything that wasn’t Azriel and his cock and those perfect hands that claims sweat-slicked skin. You don’t even fight it, succumbing to the pleasure and the male administering it. “Right there!” You barely recognize the sound of your own voice, ears focused on Azriel’s grunts and whispered praises. “So good. So good—fuck!”

“This is mine?” It’s not really a question. That much you know when you feel the pressure of his thumb rubbing circles along your clit. “Say it so I can hear you.”

“Yes!” Eyes roll. Words slur. Fists clutch at polished wood; manicured nails leaving indents in mahogany. “Belongs to you.”

Azriel’s too good—too precise; too determined. Forces him to rut deep and carve out a place inside of you with his name branded on it. Thick ropes of his seed paints quivering walls; claiming with a kind of possessiveness that has your toes permanently curled in your heels.

There’s barely enough time to catch a proper breath or situate your dress when thick wad of papers are smacked before you like a godsdammed gift, all neatly stacked and basically tied with a fucking shadowy bow. All the intel you’d bitched at Az for compromising—written right there in plain sight. “Those are the—you…thank you.”

“Don’t get all sweet for me now,” Azriel muses darkly, affectionately patting at your cheek as if you were some drowsy pup, his head nodding in gesture to the neat stack of stolen papers on the table while swiftly tucking himself away and redoing the ties on his breeches. “I’m only covering for your pretty ass so I can ruin it later.”

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spideyjimin · 2 months ago

Note

Hi, I don’t know if you’re accepting requests, but you could write something about JK where his girlfriend is accompanying them on tour and he keeps sneaking away without the managers and boys coming to sleep with her or take her to his bunk bed on the tour bus or to his hotel room... smuttt pls

hello, angel ✨ i'm not really accepting requests... but i can do a little exception, hope you'll enjoy it, angel 🤗

✨ mirror, mirror on the wall ✨

— pairing: idol!jungkook x female reader

— rating: 18+

— words: 2,814

— warnings: tattooed!jungkook, dom!jungkook, big cock!jungkook, swearing, teasing, pet names, breast play, dirty talk, mirror sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, and, creampie

Jungkook leaves the stage running, impatient to join his girlfriend, you.

This past week, you’ve been coming to certain shows of the boys as you’ve been on holiday. Your boyfriend has been more than happy to have you around, and he’s demonstrated it quite a lot.

Let's just say that there hasn’t been a show where he didn’t fuck you before and after it. Apparently, it helps him to have enough energy, and be in a good mood.

Well, if he says so, you won’t contradict him. Your boyfriend is very good at sex, he knows how to give you mindblowing orgasms, and you kind of got addicted to it so you’re never going to say no to that.

Once he finds you in the room you stayed during the show, he closes the door behind him. Even though you were expecting him to come, he arrived quite fast. You can still hear the fans calling for BTS.

“Woow, you were fast,” you say.

As you look at your boyfriend, you instantly notice that he has already removed his shirt. He’s all sweaty as well, and his breathing is heavy. In a matter of seconds, he’s standing in front of you with the brightest smile on his face.

“Couldn’t wait to be with you,” he says before pressing a kiss on your lips. His hand moves to your back, pushing you closer. “Couldn’t wait to fuck you, pumpkin.”

At first, it was so weird to hear your boyfriend using such cute nicknames while being dirty as hell. His eyes look behind you at the mirror pressed against the wall. A devious smirk appears on his face which causes you to turn around.

You notice your reflections, and you know damn well what is about to happen. This man is about to fuck you nice and rough right in front of the damn mirror. He’s standing behind you, and the way you both look at each other through the mirror sends shivers down your spine.

The man wastes no time and starts unbuttoning your shirt to expose your torso to his greedy eyes. Underneath your shirt, you’re wearing a white laced bra. When he sees it, he licks his lips.

While his hand opens your shirt, his body presses even more against yours, and you perceive his hard shaft in your back.

His hand snails down to your waist, holding you tight as if he’s afraid you’ll run away from him. His other hand pushes your bra down to reveal your breasts before he massages them, whimpers escaping your lips.

His eyes intensely glance at you through the mirror, there is only one thing he desires. You.

You sense his crotch growing harder, causing a smile to appear on your face while you keep moaning under his action.

“Someone seems to be turned on,” you manage to say in between moans.

“How can I not be turned on by you, pumpkin?” he presses a soft kiss on your cheek.

You close your eyes to enjoy his sweet affectation as well as the way he caresses your breasts.

Right now, all you can think about is him, and him only. You’re perfectly aware that his bandmates can hear your moans, they will for sure make comments when you leave the dressing room but you simply don’t care.

“Undress for me, honey,” he says against your cheek.

You nod before purposely bending down to take your shoes off. The curve of your ass presses harder against his member, snatching a deep groan out of him. You smile, more than proud to have caused a reaction out of him. Quickly, you take off your shoes and your pants, only leaving your panties.

“Such a tease,” Jungkook runs his thumb over his lower lip as his eyes get lost in your body. You wink at him, teasing him even more.

His large hands rest on your ass before slowly caressing it, his curious eyes look down at his hands on you. They cover almost all your butt and fuck, the sight gets him even harder. His action gives you small goosebumps on your body, your eyes never once stopping to glance at the two of you through the mirror.

The cold metal of the rings that he’s wearing sends shivers down your spine as his fingers tenderly stroke the soft skin of your ass. Slowly his tattooed hand trails down, one of his fingers brushing against your soaked panties.

The sensation of his finger touching your clothed core sends shivers down your spine but it also causes you to let out a small whimper. A groan escapes his lips as he feels your arousal.

“You’re so fucking soaked,” he says, his eyes glancing at you through the mirror while his fingers start to massage the bundle of nerves through your panties. “All for me?” A smile appears on his face as the words leave his lips.

“Maybe,” you keep teasing him.

As he feels your growing wetter in his hands, the urge to have your velvety walls around him arises. His fingers press harder against your core, making you moan louder. Torturing you a bit more with his hands is something he really loves to do because your body always instantly reacts to it.

“Maybe I can stop,” he teases you back while he slowly starts removing his hand.

You firmly grab his arm, not letting his hand leave your panties.

“No,” you resolutely say.

Jungkook chuckles before his hands slowly pull your panties down your legs, causing you to suck in a deep breath. Once your panties are on the floor, his fingers ride up your legs, goosebumps rising on your skin.

Purposely, he totally ignores your needy core, his hands resting on your waist before bending you down a little bit to see your pussy. Not wanting to wait for more, he pulls his pants down together with his underwear, his cock springing free, and slapping against his stomach.

Since he’s just behind you, you can’t see anything but you can perfectly picture his massive member. You’ve already seen it a million times.

Most probably, he’s already hard but not completely, so his length isn’t fully big yet. However, you know that the head is already red and swollen with precum drooling from the tip.

Jungkook looks down at the beast he hides in his pants. His tattooed hand grabs his cock, slowly stroking it while his eyes gaze up at your soaked pussy that is all ready for him. This incredibly hot sight definitely helps him to get harder.

“You’re so perfect, pumpkin,” he groans behind you, your eyes searching for his face in the mirror.

To say that he looks hot is more than an understatement. Everything screams hot with him; from his black short hair to the piercing in his eyebrow, and to the tattoos on his arm.

His eyes filled with lust never leave your body while he keeps stroking his cock. In order to ease the intrusion of his cock inside you, he gathers your wetness with his fingers before spreading it all over his beast.

Both of you are so impatient as it feels like time is passing by too slowly.

“Please hurry,” you tell him with desperation, your walls clenching but your words only make him smirk.

His free hand reaches for your body to caress your ass cheeks while he keeps pumping his hard length. Never once do his eyes look away from you because the sight you’re giving him is delightful. Since he pushed down your bra, your breasts are almost in full display, causing him to bite his lower lip.

“Looks like someone is always so needy and desperate,” he adds before pushing in one motion his massive cock inside you.

A deep and guttural moan leaves your mouth as this comes as a surprise for you. Jungkook is definitely the kind of guy to surprise everybody but when he does it during sex, he’s even wilder.

His huge cock stretches you completely as he pushes himself further inside you. Having your walls sucking him inside always feels like heaven to him. Most of the time, all he can think about is the way your walls feel around him.

“So fucking good,” he mumbles while his cock throbs inside you

When he finally fills you up to the brim, he halts to give you all the time you need to adjust to his monstrous cock. Jungkook doesn’t need you to speak to understand you. The way he penetrated you isn’t the nicest way at all but he’s going to give you all the time you need.

His hands fall on your hips to caress them with his thumbs while his eyes land on your reflection again.

“You’re so fucking big,” you exclaim.

His hands remove your shirt before throwing it on the floor. Now, he has a perfect view of your body.

Slowly, he bends down to reach your face and presses a sweet kiss on your cheek. The movement causes his cock to move a bit further inside you, a soft whimper leaving your lips.

“Sorry, pumpkin,” he whispers in your ear.

Before he does or says anything more, you decide to lift up because the position isn’t comfortable at all. Now, you’re ready to be fucked by the prettiest man on earth.

For a moment, you stare at the reflection of the two of you in the mirror. The first thing that crosses your mind is that this looks like a scene from a porn movie. Looking down a bit, you can perfectly see where your bodies connect. Your walls squeeze him, earning a groan from him.

Your eyes glance up at the man behind you. His pants are pooling at his ankles, and his lust-filled eyes are looking at you. If a fan saw him like this, they’d be dead by now.

Without saying anything, you begin to move your ass, pushing his cock out of you until only the tip is inside. You sense his cock pulsating inside you before you suck him back in. A little teasing doesn’t hurt anyone.

A small whimper escapes his soft lips while his eyes close to enjoy the feeling.

“You really can’t wait,” he manages to say when he’s fully inside you again.

“Never,” you answer, your eyes never leaving his adorable face but you decide to clench your walls around him.

“You’re such a tease,” he groans against your ear.

Jungkook slowly pushes back, leaving only the tip of his cock inside you. His eyes never leave your figure, watching you moan. That sound is without any doubt his favorite music.

Sex in front of the mirror is a first time for the two of you. Jungkook can help but find this pretty erotic, he can see the way your pussy is around him as well as the way your body contorts with all the pleasure only he can give you. You, on the other hand, can see how you look when he fucks you senseless.

Brutally, he pushes his cock fully inside you, a loud moan leaving your lips. For a little while, he doesn't move, his lips only press tender kisses on your neck. Although you desperately want to watch him fuck you, you want to savor this moment. So, you close your eyes as you moan.

“Your cunt takes me so fucking well, pumpkin.”

Once he sees that you’re ready to take more, he pulls back brutally before slamming himself back into you. Jungkook once again stops when he’s fully inside you, torturing you just to hear you begging him to fuck you. This is of course not enough for you. You need more. You need him to fuck you rough in front of this massive mirror.

“Please, Jungkook,” you start saying, “fuck me.”

“I always love to hear you begging,” he whispers before licking the spot just under your ear.

He pushes his cock back before slamming into you with both hands on your hips, pulling you back to meet his thrusts. The slick sound of your pussy soaking his cock as well as your moans quickly fill the room.

His cock perfectly fills you up, his hips hitting against yours with every thrust he makes. This all causes sparks of pleasure to shoot throughout your body, your arousal dripping from your core and creaming his cock.

As he senses the sticky mess you’re causing, his eyes briefly look down. His cock is buried deep inside you, brushing against your walls, and causing you to moan even louder each time.

“You’re so fucking wet, pumpkin,” he hisses before biting his lower lip. His hand on your hips presses harder into your skin when he feels your walls tighten around him. “And making such a mess on my cock.”

Every time he pushes his hips back, he watches with delight the way his cock is completely covered with your arousal. You’re clearly doing a bigger mess than usual which makes him realize that this mirror fuck session is turning you incredibly on.

Jungkook’s hand moves up on your body, grabbing your breasts and squeezing them to make you moan with desire before his fingers start playing with your nipples. Moans flood out of your mouth as he tortures your body.

“It feels so good,” you whine.

His eyes look at you, contorting with pleasure, and a smirk grows again on his face.

The vision of you two fucking in front of a mirror is literally driving him crazy. Your moans are getting louder, and right now, you’re sure that everybody who is working in this concert hall is able to hear you moaning Jungkook’s name.

Well, all those people have been hearing you for the past few days moaning your boyfriend’s name at least twice a day.

“You’re so loud, pumpkin,” he says as he goes deeper and harder to make you scream with pleasure. Your voice moaning his name is the only thing he wants to hear.

His hands can feel the way your body quivers with each thrust. The way he’s torturing your body is only making you lose yourself further.

This time around, you’re able to witness what your boyfriend sees every time he screws you relentlessly. Your face looks so weird but god, you just don’t care. All you care about is the pleasure he’s giving you.

“Shit,” he groans when he feels the warmth of your walls wrapping tighter around him. “Your cunt is clenching so hard.”

As you look at him, you can’t help but find him extremely attractive. Through the mirror, his eyes stare at you with passion and lust as his tongue licks his lower lips. He keeps growling your name, thrusting into you with more urgency each time.

“Gonna be a good girl and come for me?” he asks, and you nod.

You desperately want to be a good girl for him because you know it’ll put him in a good mood.

“I wanna come so bad,” you manage to say.

His cock twitches inside of you, a low groan rumbling in his throat as you practically beg him to let you come.

His hand slowly goes down on your body to land on your throbbing clit. His fingers start to rub your sensitive spot as his cock keeps driving you crazy.

The wave of pleasure inside you is growing bigger and bigger, almost becoming too overwhelming.

“Do it,” he says. “Come for me.”

Those words are what you need for the wave of pleasure to hit you intensely, making you come hard around him. Your arousal completely covers his cock while your walls squeeze him over and over again.

After a few seconds, he starts thrusting into you again before speeding up the pace of his hips slamming into you, wanting to chase his own high. The coil in his lower stomach tightens inside of him, and it completely clouds his thoughts. Breathy whines escape his pretty lips as he looks down at the mess you made on his cock.

A desperate moan leaves his mouth when his orgasm hits him hard. Your eyes automatically glance up at him in the mirror to see him coming. You can’t help but find him extremely adorable. He rolls his eyes back with pleasure, his body tensing up as he releases his load inside you. Loud moans leave his lips as he’s completely ravaged by his orgasm.

For a little moment, he stays inside you, his cock pulsating inside you.

“Shit, we should do this more often,” he says before pressing a soft kiss on your cheek.

“I wouldn’t complain,” you tell him.

Jungkook pushes his dick out before grabbing tissues to clean you and himself. The two of you put your clothes back before sitting on the couch to discuss, acting like nothing happened.

#ask #kloserpeenguintiljk #bts #bts smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook smut #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #mirror mirror on the wall #spideyjimin

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partiallysame · 2 days ago

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I'm sorry if this is a weird request, I love your writing a lot and you bring me great comfort, and I've been binging ur stories after my ex cracked me in the face (enjoy jail Ryan)

how do you think poly 141 with a civilian s/o who comes home from work, not expecting them to be home from deployment, with a bloodied lip and black eye, a tear across her forehead that slowly oozes blood. Maybe her own knuckles are bruised and split from where she had fought off the two men who jumped her. Her pants were torn at the knees from where she grappled on the ground. Johnny's jean jacket he let her borrow was nowhere in sight left in dust as she ran for her life.

I love your writing again, I hope ur safe and please eat well and rest ❤️❤️ don't let anyone get away with putting their hands on you.

First and foremost fuck you Ryan rot in jail and hell bitch

The adrenaline had finally started to wear off as you pulled your car into the driveway, only to start to panic again when you realized your husband and your boys were home early. Like two weeks early. You sat in your car for a few moments trying to wipe the blood from your face, your hands, your knees, trying anything to look like what just happened didn’t actually happen. But the second your car pulled in they all made their way out, too excited to see their Missus to wait for her to come inside. Johnny was the first to reach the car, always so eager to see you. You sat still in your car. He tried to open the door but it was still locked. Crouching down to motion for you to open the door, maybe you were on the phone or something and that's why you hadn’t gotten out yet. But as he lowered himself to see you, only to be met with a nightmare sight.

“Sweet’art open the door.” Voice serious in a way you had never heard before. His hand reached behind him to wave the rest of the men over, not wanting to yell for them and scare you more than you already seemed. You shook your head no. They weren’t supposed to see you like this. You were fine. You made it home, you were safe now, you were gonna fix up all your wounds and be healed before they got home. But here they were trying to coax you out of the car as tears streamed down your face. Fingers slowly pressing the unlock button, both the drivers and passenger side doors were swung open. Johnny reached over you to unbuckle your seatbelt and scooping you up out of the car.

“Bring me my wife.” It was an order that MacTavish was not going to follow until you were pulled from his arms. “M’sorry’s” poured from your mouth between sobs as you clung to your husband and were brought into the house and set so gently on the kitchen counter, allowing the four men to get a full view of your beaten body. You sat, body shaking slightly from the adrenaline and pain that was starting to set in as they stared. Stared and the dark purple forming around your eye. Staring at the gash across your cheek and your split lip. Drops of blood on your torn shirt, jeans shredded at the knees, wet bloodied fabric stuck to the scrapes on your knees. They were all looking at you so differently. You thought your husband was going to cry, Johnny too. Kyle looked so broken. You had been working so hard for Simon to soften to open up to you and he was, but the look on his face scared you.

Working in perfect unison the men started to undress you, removing your bloodied clothes. A first aid kit was set next to you as they each took a portion of you to care for. Apologizing when you’d wince at the pain of being cleaned up. Johnny was holding an ice pack up to your eye as Kyle took off his shirt for you to wear. None of them were willing to leave your side long enough to just grab new clothes from down the hall. Another “I’m sorry” fell from you and your husband felt like he was going to snap.

“My Love, please stop apologizing. It’s not yer fault honey. Can ya tell us what happened?” You nodded and recounted how two men had cornered you after work, wanting your purse. How they thought you weren’t handing it over fast enough.

“But I’m a captain’s wife you know? Not just gonna take it lying down now am I? You should see the other guys.” You tried to joke and motioned to your split knuckles that Simon had so carefully wrapped up for you.

“Where?” Simon’s voice came out harsh and the men snapped their heads toward him, a warning to calm down. (They’d find who did it later but rn the focus is on their Missus)

“I’m sorry Johnny.” You turned toward the large scot still holding the ice pack. He lowered it because he wanted you to see his face when he told you there was no reason to apologize.

“But I was wearing your jacket. You know the jean one you left for me. The one that smells like you. The one you look so handsome in. It came off and I left it there.” Your breathing picked up again, tears threatening to spill at losing his favorite jacket. You barely finished your confession when he was pulling you into his chest, strong arms feeling so warm and gentle around you.

“Don’ care about a fuckin’ jacket. You came home lovie. That's what I care about.”

#prices lil wife #tf 141 #poly!141 #comfort #cod x reader #cod modern warfare #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #cod x you #soap x reader

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aesthetichoney2111 · 2 months ago

Text

Pride is a damsel in distress

Hiding away where only I can undress her

#epic the musical #epic odysseus #epic the musical fanart #odysseus #epic zeus #epic the thunder saga

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cheyisagirlkisser · 4 months ago

Text

Farmer Williams

FARM ELLIE HEADCANNONS (Ellie Williams x Fem! reader) Content: Smut, Ellie being a horndog AND farmer, cutesy domestic bliss

•Farmer Ellie who wakes up at some insane hour of the morning to get started on her chores so she knock them out of the way and spend time with you later..

•Farmer Ellie who smiles when she walks through the screened door of the farmhouse to the scent of freshly cooked bacon and eggs. She just loves when you cook for the two of you, even if it’s something simple(and technically 1pm…)

•Farmer Ellie who will wrap her strong arms around your waist while you’re leaned over the stove, planting soft kisses to your nape. If she’s in a really good mood, her tongue will soon follow after those soft, sickly sweet kisses.

•Farmer Ellie whose presence envelops your nose as you flip over a piece of bacon. It’s the heavy scent of her sweat from working all morning, which you love to use as an excuse to shower together after breakfast.

•Farmer Ellie who is a quiet eater, munching away at her toast, bits of homemade strawberry jam plastered on her chapped lips. She’s oblivious to how truly adorable she is, and you have to resist the urge to lean in and press a few chaste kisses on her. She’s a messy eater, scarfing down every last bit of food you provided her, and uttering with a full mouth, “Babe, this is fuckin’ delicious. You trying to be my housewife or somethin’?” She mostly jokes around with you, but there’s a soft smile tugging at her lips that makes you wonder if she’s joking or hinting at her own desires.

•Farmer Ellie who thanks you for the breakfast by leaving her seat to stand behind yours, calloused fingertips drumming on your shoulders as her breath makes it to your ear, “How ‘bout that shower, babe?” You can tell it’s one of those days, because her tone is pathetically low and needy. Ellie isn’t aware, but when she’s horny, she sounds all serious and low, quite different from her usual sweet voice. It’s a turn-on for you, of course.(I imagine Ellie sounding like she did in the couch scene with Dina anytime she’s thinking about fucking you…) When you agree, Ellie intertwines her fingers with yours and leads you into the farmhouse’ bathroom.

•Farmer Ellie who loves to undress you. You need to take your bra off before bed? She’s already tugging at the clasp with her grubby hands. It’s one of those special mornings where she wakes up beside you instead of getting up early to manage the farm? She’ll wake you up with a kiss and a soft, “C’mon, babe. Lemme dress you,” because god forbid you slip on your own clothes. Most of the time, it’s seemingly nonsexual, only helping you and maybe taking a few peeks at your tits when you’re unaware, even though you’ve assured her many times you don’t mind her visual appreciation.

•Farmer Ellie who shuts the bathroom door behind you, immediately unbuttoning your jeans to get you naked. It is in fact, one of those days when she’s undressing you quickly, desperate to see how wet you already are from her. Once your clothes are practically ripped off, you take your cue to hop in the shower and get the water going. You can’t help but glance at Ellie’s own undressing process, watching as her worn sports bra meets the floor, her pretty tits on display for your own wandering eyes. Your impatience only grows when she finally slips her boxer-briefs, she pretty cunt free of any fabric.

•Farmer Ellie who steps into the hot shower behind you, hands trailing up your wet skin, lips latching onto your neck, practically devouring your neck in a way she wanted to do earlier. Ellie’s a horndog, sure, but she loves to take her time with you once she’s got you completely bare and soaking wet both ways.

•Farmer Ellie who spins you around so you’re facing her, immediately leaning in to give you a hot, wet kiss. She’ll try to start slowly and sensually, but after maybe 10 seconds, she’s ravishing your poor mouth with hers. When she’s pussydrunk, she kisses you like she’s eating you out. That only reminds you of how her hot tongue feels inbetween your thighs. She sees that needy look in your eyes, and she’ll pull away from some part of your body she was busy macking on to smile sinfully at you. “Baby, whatcha want? Tell me how you wanna be fucked….” You’ll get shy on her, but eventually, you mutter something about her mouth making you cum, and she won’t continue to torture you any longer.

•Farmer Ellie who eats your pussy like she’s starved. Those little smacking sounds she makes, the way her tongue sloppily fucks its way into your sopping cunt, nose nudging against your clit, it’s so perfect. She’ll hold you firmly against the shower so you don’t fall over, strong hands digging into your hips so hard there will be red marks on them later. She’s practically making out with your pussy, muttering hungry words about how ‘wet she is for me’ and promising to make you cum. She just can’t get enough of your taste. Even after you cum your brains out, her mouth is still latched on you, licking up every last drop of your essence until you’re squirming, begging her for mercy. She’ll pull away with a sheepish grin, though you know she’s not sorry.

•Farmer Ellie who loves to take care of you after sex. She’ll wash you up and after she’s all clean too, you two will spend the day together cuddling and talking about everyday things such as Ellie’s hunting trips, your plans to bake for her later, and complaints about chores. She loves just laying on top of you lazily, pressing all of her weight onto you.

•Farmer Ellie who usually falls asleep right after dinner. Sometimes you swear that girl’s hibernating with the way she snores and rolls all over your bed. Nonetheless, you tuck her in, pecking the top of the head and whispering a soft goodnight. After a while, you’ll join her, attempting to not wake her but fail as she mutters sleepy, petulant complaints about needing her beauty rest. However, she will always wrap an arm around you, pulling you into her arms and whispering some incoherent ‘g’nites’ and a ‘love you’ before you both drift off to sleep<3

NOTE: This is my first real post so be nice to me😞 I wanna do more of farm Ellie soon!

#ellie x y/n #ellie tlou #ellie smut #ellie x you #ellie williams #ellie the last of us #ellie x reader

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c0s-lettuce · 2 months ago

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I love your Sergei story. Can you please do a Sergei x female reader story where he sees her taking a shower? He sneaks up on her in the shower and they have passionate sex? Ty

flattery - sergei kravinoff x fem!reader

word count: 1405

warnings: smut, 18+ only, minor dni, shower sex, breast play, oral sex (f receiving), swearing

a/n: thanks for the request, nonnie! i'm glad you like my previous fic! this is my first time writing smut so i'm very sorry if it sucks 😭

Sergei used to ask if he could come over. Then, it turned into him stating he was coming over and no longer requesting permission. Soon enough, he started showing up unannounced. At first, it would be at your front door. But if you were ever home late, or if he was just bored, he would make his way inside. He would get comfortable on your couch or fix himself a drink in your kitchen. And he would laugh when he scared you half to death.

"You left your window unlocked," he would say.

You seethed, mainly because of the audacity of this man. But also because you live on the third floor of your apartment building. Not long after, you relented and gave Sergei a spare key.

At this point, it was almost like he lived here too. He was getting very comfortable, and you weren't sure how to feel about it. You considered charging him rent. Or, at the very least, telling him off. But before you ever got around to it, his mouth would find its way to yours, his hands to your waist, and the rest would become history.

It's another regular evening when Sergei comes over. He arrives to a quiet apartment, with only the hum of household appliances, distant traffic and, most noticeably, the sound of running water from the shower.

After locking the door behind him, he kicks off his shoes and discards his jacket on the back of the couch. He heads over to the bathroom, carefully opening the door and peeking inside. Warm steam and the fragrant scent of your shampoo waft through the air. And through the foggy glass of the shower screen, he sees you.

He smiles to himself as he enters, recognising the potential of this situation. Your back is facing him, and you're blissfully unaware of his presence. The running water helps mask his actions as he shuts the door and approaches the shower.

He pulls the shower door open and reaches to pinch you on the waist, making a sudden noise to scare you. You flinch and let out a yelp. As you turn around, your startlement turns into anger when you see the culprit.

"Sergei? What the fuck is wrong with you?" you yell at him.

Sergei chuckles, raising his hands in mock surrender. "I'm sorry. I couldn't help it."

You grab the door and hold it closed, creating a sort of barrier between the two of you. "That was not fucking funny. What are you even doing here?"

"I came to see you," he answers, unbothered by your reaction.

You stare at him incredulously through the glass. "You really couldn't wait ten minutes?"

Sergei just laughs. "Of course not. Who do you think I am?"

You let out a huff, unimpressed by his antics. "Okay, well, you've seen me. You can go now."

"Aw, don't send me away," he pouts. "Can't I join you?"

You narrow your eyes at him. "Join me? Are you being serious?"

"Dead serious," he replies. "Please?"

You continue staring him down, but he disarms you with a charming smile. You groan. How could you say no when he's looking at you like that?

"Alright, fine," you say. "But this doesn't mean I forgive you."

Sergei nods, still smirking. He begins to undress, leaving his clothes piled on the floor. You turn to face the water again, ignoring the man and refocusing on washing yourself.

Meanwhile, Sergei remains fixated on you, finding your aloof demeanour amusing. Once he's unclothed, he steps into the shower behind you. Almost immediately, he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you against his chest.

"Don't be mad," he murmurs, as he presses his lips against your neck, "I missed you, that's all."

"That's a sorry excuse," you mutter in response.

He hums, smiling against your skin. "But it's true, baby. I've been thinking about you all day."

He continues peppering kisses on your neck. You try not to make a noise as he begins to caress your body. His large hands wander up to your breasts, and he starts kneading them while his fingers brush over your nipples. After a while, he spins you around to face him, smiling as he meets your gaze. He takes a moment to admire you.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" he says.

You give him a pointed look. "Don't try to flatter me, Sergei."

"Oh, come on," he pulls you closer. "You know I wouldn't lie to you."

Before you can protest further, he leans in to kiss you. His lips are fervorous against yours. His beard tickles your skin, and his fingers squeeze your hips. Unable to stay annoyed, you loop your arms over his shoulders and kiss him back.

He holds you close, and you do the same, your bodies flush against each other. Your fingers play at the nape of his neck, and he moans into your mouth when you tug his hair. He deepens the kiss, brushing his tongue against yours.

He guides you towards the wall. The cold tiles press against your back, making you jump slightly. Sergei must have noticed because he smirks, breaking the kiss to trail his lips along your jaw.

"So beautiful," he whispers, repeating his earlier sentiment.

He starts moving lower, peppering more kisses down your neck and over your chest and stomach. You let out a sigh as you lean back, watching Sergei get on his knees.

Now situated on the shower floor, he grips your thighs and holds you steady against the wall. He kisses a trail along your hip, slowly moving towards your inner thigh. Carefully, he guides one of your legs to rest over his shoulder. He looks up at you as he places a gentle, teasing kiss over your sex. You gasp, hands finding their way back to Sergei's hair.

He grins at your reaction before moving in fully. Using his tongue, he parts your folds to reach your entrance and licks a stripe up to your clit. You moan as he lavishes attention on the bud, licking and sucking as if his life depended on it.

Sergei's euphoria matches yours. Engulfed by your sweet scent and surrounded by your soft skin, he knows this is where he belongs. On his knees, worshipping his goddess. He groans into you as you tighten your grip on his hair. Pressing one last kiss on your clit, he begins moving his mouth lower and teases your hole with his tongue.

A string of moans and curses leave your mouth, and Sergei relishes the sound of your pretty voice as he fucks you with his tongue. The bridge of his nose nestles against your clit, only adding to the overwhelming sensation of him making out with your pussy.

You squirm as the tension builds, and your legs start to tremble. Sergei holds onto you tighter, his mouth not letting up. Your breath becomes unsteady as you feel yourself become light-headed.

"Sergei, please," you whimper, barely able to form words.

"I'm here, baby," he murmurs. "I have you. Let go for me."

The last few words are all you need. You cry out as pleasure washes over you, consuming you in a moment of ecstasy. Sergei doesn't stop, letting you ride out your orgasm. He moans as you come on his tongue, eagerly tasting you.

As you start to come down from your high, Sergei slows his ministrations. He plants a few final kisses before gently placing your leg down and standing back up. His arms wrap around your waist again, and he holds you securely. You rest your weight against him as you catch your breath.

His cock, now rock-hard, nestles against your sensitive cunt, making you whimper. He's aching for you but needs to know you're feeling alright first. He brings a hand to cradle your face, coaxing you to look at him. Your unfocused gaze meets his, and he smiles as he looks over you.

You really are so very beautiful.

"You're not still mad at me, are you?" he asks, resting his forehead against yours.

His question annoys you. You want to roll your eyes or hit him or fuck him, but you're still a bit out of it.

"No, of course not, you idiot," you mutter instead.

"Good," Sergei chuckles, kissing you on the cheek. "Come on then. I think we've showered enough. Let's take this to the bedroom."

➸

#sergei kravinoff #sergei kravinoff x reader #sergei kravinoff smut #kraven the hunter #kraven the hunter x reader #kraven the hunter smut #kraven #kraven x reader #kraven movie #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel smut #aaron taylor johnson #atj

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iamnotoriginalphil · 2 months ago

Text

Royal Duty (Agatha Harkness x f!Reader)

Synopsis: Apparently princesses aren't meant to fall in love with their lady's maids. If only someone had told you that. If only you weren't meant to be marrying someone else. If only you had a way out of it.

Words: 4.1k

Warnings: Possessiveness, oral (R receiving), fingering (R receiving), marking, semi-public sex, teasing, jealousy

Tags: @sasheemo @buttercandy16 @chlondykebar @midnight-lestrange @babybeeelle @dontsblameme@grilledcheeseandguavajelly

“I can’t believe they’re doing this.”

You watched Agatha pacing in front of the fire she’d stoked not moments before. Lounging on your bed, having given up undressing when it became clear Agatha wasn’t going to be any help, you were watching her fume. She was stomping, teeth gritted, hair flying from where you’d let it down with deft fingers.

“Sweetheart,” you said, wondering if it would be possible to distract her before she really got going.

“It’s barbaric,” she growled, “don’t pretend as if you’re okay with this.”

“It’s not about being okay with it,” you said.

“And I’ve seen that so called princess. She’s puny. She can barely hold a sword. No one will ever find her intimidating,” she said, flinging the words out.

“Do we want her to be intimidating?” you mused, lying back to stare at the canopy above your bed.

“And you’re kidding yourself if you think her people will ever respect her. That advisor of hers is going to walk all over her until before you know it he holds all the power and you’re nothing but a puppet,” she continued.

“I’ll happily be a puppet if it’s your hand going up my skirt,” you said.

She paused, slow to spin towards you. You stretched your arms over your head, arching your spine, displaying yourself for her.

“Stop trying to distract me,” she said.

“Oh, you’re more than welcome to keep going.” Your fingers plucked at the strings of your dress, “but you’ll have to help me slip out of this while you do. I’d like to take my bath before the sun rises.”

“You’re playing dirty, pet,” she growled.

She advanced on you, blue eyes flashing. You grinned, raising your foot to press against her shoulder. Her fingers curled around your ankle, sliding it over her shoulder as she crawled towards you. Pushing the skirt up, her lips ghosted along the skin of your leg.

“It’s not dirty if you get what you want from it,” you sighed.

Her teeth nipped at the soft skin of your inner thigh. The noise you made only caused her to sink her teeth in deeper, most likely leaving a bruise. You loved when she got all possessive.

“If I was getting what I wanted, you wouldn’t be about to marry some idiot princess from the next kingdom over,” she said.

“Alright, you’re getting the second thing you want,” you laughed.

“Which would be?” She raised an eyebrow at you.

The heel of your foot pressed between her shoulder blades, guiding her towards where you wanted her most. The heat of her mouth on your most intimate parts was exactly what you were looking for. Fingers tangling in her hair, you kept her pressed against you. You’d always said she had one of the most talented tongues in the kingdom, and she was doing a good job at proving it.

You huffed when she pulled away, the throbbing between your legs demanding to be seen to. She dragged the back of her hand across her chin and climbed off the bed. You pushed up onto your elbows, staring at her as she stared down at you, eyes smouldering as she took in your sprawled form.

“Time for your bath, my lady,” she said.

You took her offered hand, letting her pull you off the bed. The fire in your veins made you unsteady on your feet, and as her nimble fingers unlaced you from your dress, taking the opportunity to ghost over your skin, you wondered if this was payback for not putting up more of a fuss about your upcoming nuptials. Your lips parted, watching her undress you, watching as her eyes darkened with each inch of bare skin she revealed.

She helped you into the tub behind the privacy screen. You settled in the warm water, leaning back against the side, head tipping back as you sighed. Her hands were gentle as they poured water over your shoulders. You closed your eyes, muscles relaxing under her care.

It was when they started wandering further down your body that you squinted them back open, watching her face. She wasn’t looking at you, focusing on your body. Hands stroked over your breasts, avoiding where you wanted her touch most. You arched towards her, offering yourself to her, urging her on.

She took her time, teasing you until you were begging her. Her hand slid down her body, finding the throbbing she’d left unsatisfied. Your head fell back, finding her shoulder as her finger began to circle your bundle of nerves. Her name was a soft sigh on your lips. Your legs fell open and she chuckled against your ear.

“Looks like you’re not getting any less dirty, my lady,” she murmured, “I suppose I’ll just have to try harder.”

Her thumb ground against your clit and your breath turned stuttering. You didn’t notice your door opening until you heard your mother’s voice ring out in your bedchamber.

“Darling, we have to discuss arrangements for tomorrow.”

You started, sitting up straighter, water sloshing over the side of the bath. Agatha grinned, her thumb pressing down. You grasped her wrist under the water, trying to tell her to stop. Her mouth attached itself to your throat, tongue running over your skin. Her thumb was making your thoughts turn hazy.

“Your fiancée will be arriving tomorrow morning.”

Agatha’s finger slid into you as her teeth sunk into you. You pressed your lips together, stifling the moan that wanted to break free. Your mother kept droning on about the preparation for your fiancée’s arrival and the wedding. In one week you’d be a blushing bride.

“And of course I have the seamstress coming to to fit you for your wedding dress,” your mother said.

Another finger joined the first and you couldn’t help your legs falling open again to Agatha. She was sucking at your skin, purposefully leaving a bruise to be found later. You were trying to keep your breathing under control. Her free hand tweaked your nipple, pinching, rolling it between thumb and forefinger.

“You will of course be retiring here for your wedding night,” she said.

Agatha’s palm ground against your bundle of nerves as her fingers curled within you. You gasped, making a small noise before you could stop yourself. It was hard to care when you felt on fire.

“Are you alright in there, darling?” your mother asked.

“Yes,” you gasped, “I’m fine.”

“Only fine?” Agatha murmured to quiet for your mother to hear, her lips brushing the shell of your ear, “clearly I should start doing a better job.”

You whimpered, just the thought of it making your head spin. Her thrusts turned slow, each one drawn out, barely brushing your clit. You’d been close, worked up and on the edge. This was torture. Just enough to keep you panting, but not enough to be satisfying. That encapsulated Agatha perfectly; a tease.

“Now, darling, I’m afraid I have to tell you about the wedding night,” she said.

Agatha growled. Her fingers began to increase in pace, twisting and curling. The way her thumb was stroking over your clit had your hips meeting her thrust for thrust. The water was slopping over the edge of the tub, soaking the floor, but you couldn’t care. The heat was climbing in your veins, the coil tightening again.

“That’s really not necessary,” you gasped.

“No, no, I can’t let you be unprepared,” she said, “now, once you’ve retired for the night, it will be expected that you perform for your new wife.”

“Mother, I promise I know what’s expected of me,” you said before a soft moan passed your lips.

“And you’re rather good at meeting expectations,” Agatha whispered in your ear.

“You might know the theory but in practice it can be very different,” she said,

Agatha’s fingers kept hitting that spot within you that melted your tension away. Her mouth was back on your skin, sucking bruises, marking you as hers for the world to see. Her thumb was back to grinding against your clit. You were breathless, going mad, trying not to cum with your mother in the room. But Agatha was so skilled and you were losing control.

“I don’t want you to feel anxious,” she said, and you realised she was going to be there for the long haul.

“Mother, that is the last thing I’m anxious about,” you managed to say, breathless and desperate, “I promise.”

“Oh good, because if I’m being honest, this topic was making me rather uncomfortable,” she said, “now about your journey back to Eastview…”

“Can’t we discuss this tomorrow, Mother? I’m rather tired and would like to retire so I’m well rested for tomorrow,” you said.

“Of course, darling.”

You waited until you heard the door close again before a filthy moan passed over your lips. Agatha was laughing softly under her breath, fingers working you harder.

“Are you sure you don’t want your mother to explain how to please your wife?” she asked, “or do you think you’ve had enough practical experience?”

“Keep going and I’ll let you know if I need more hands on experience,” you replied.

When your orgasm crashed over you, you weren’t keeping quiet. Her name rang around your chambers, echoing as she brought you to the height of pleasure. Reaching up, you curled your hand around the nape of her neck, pulling her into a kiss. Her tongue was in your mouth, muffling your moans as you began to relax again.

Her hand retracted from between your legs, focusing on kissing you. Boneless and tired, you realised the water had cooled to a chilled temperature. Her lips brushed your temple.

“Shall we get you into bed?” she suggested.

“Are you going to be staying?” you asked, looking up into her sparkling eyes.

“Whatever you want, my lady,” she replied.

“Not quite whatever,” you muttered.

She helped you stand from the water, eyes sliding over your body with obvious appreciation. Holding out a towel, you let her pat you dry, enjoying the way it felt to be touched by her. You caught her face in both your hands, pulling her in for a lingering kiss.

She shucked her dress off, leaving her gloriously naked as she climbed into bed beside you. You curled up against her, cheek resting on her chest, arm thrown over her waist. Her fingers were stroking through your hair, untangling the knots left over from your long day.

“I wish it could be like this forever,” you said.

“I do too, pet,” she replied.

The next morning, sitting in the throne room, you were doing your best not to squirm as you thought about how Agatha had woken you up that morning. You’d been waiting longer than you thought you should have been. The contingency from Eastview was late. That was the only explanation. And while waiting, your mind wandered to the only woman who owned you body and soul.

You sighed, chin resting in your palm as you slouched in your throne. Your father’s advisor kept shooting worried glances at the door, his weight shifting from foot to foot. He snuck a look at your father who was looking more and more thunderous with every passing second.

A trumpet sounded, loud and jarring. You jerked up, straightening your spine, turning towards the door. They swung open, a large contingency of people entering. Leading the way, bright red hair and pale skin, Princess Wanda was looking furious. At her side, her brother strode, straight backed and regal looking in a way that you had never quite managed to capture. From the looks of things, neither had Wanda.

You were rushed through the introductions before you were thrown out to take a turn about the garden, chaperoned by Prince Pietro. Walking by Wanda’s side, neither one of you seemed capable of coming up with a conversation starter. The silence had settled over you and you weren’t sure how to break it. If it was any indication of how your future marriage would go, the years were going to be long.

You took a seat on a stone bench overlooking the lake. You’d spent plenty of summer days immersed in the cool water, hidden away from the windows of the castle. Long drawn out days with Agatha in the sun, being as lazy as possible.

“Your grounds are lovely,” Wanda said.

“Thank you,” you replied.

Silence reigned.

“It’s wonderful to see how much chemistry the two of you have,” Pietro said.

You shared an embarrassed glance with her before staring out at the water again.

Dinner wasn’t much better and by the time you went to bed you were certain you were in for the quietest marriage of all times. Luckily, crawling into bed beside Agatha, you could drown your despair in the way she gasped your mind and praised you. At the very least, you knew you were wonderful at one aspect of marriage.

The next day wasn’t much better. You went from fitting to fitting, getting ready for the big day with your mother, Agatha trailing along behind. You made meaningless decisions about the menu and the decorations and the guest list. None of it mattered to you. But the way Agatha’s eyes darkened when she saw you in your wedding dress did.

By the time dinner came around you were exhausted and desperate to soak in the tub again. Ideally with a naked Agatha in your lap. Instead, you were sitting beside Wanda, wondering if you might manage to string two sentences together. Only she was staring into her plate like it had personally offended her. You decided to leave it be.

The rest of the week followed the same pattern. The two of you were chaperoned everywhere you went together. You made preparations. You stopped caring, just trying to get through the day until it was you and Agatha alone together at night. The comfort you drew from those hours you spent with her was immeasurable. You wouldn’t trade them for anything.

Except the night before the wedding you couldn’t sleep. Despite Agatha’s arm thrown over your waist and the hours you’d spent tiring yourself out, you couldn’t manage to quiet the thoughts in your head. As you wriggled, trying to find a comfortable position, Agatha grumbled in her sleep, arm tightening around you. You stilled, burying your nose in her hair, breathing in the scent of her. You’d miss this. The quiet moments with Agatha were the ones you felt safest.

Slipping out of the bed, you tucked the covers around her before throwing on a robe and sneaking out of your bedchamber. The castle was quiet, not quite early enough for the servants to have begun preparing for the day, but not so late they were still retiring for the night. You let your feet lead you through the halls. The air was cool against your skin and the shadows were dark. The quiet was all encompassing, a shroud around your shoulders as you wandered the halls.

The library doors were already open when you arrived. You slipped inside, keeping them from creaking. On the chaise longue, a book open in her lap but her gaze staring out the window, your future wife had already made herself at home. You paused, watching her for a moment.

“I see you’re just as excited for tomorrow as I am.”

She jumped, whipping around to look at you. You offered her a strained smile, moving further into the room. Sinking down into one of the armchairs, plush and comfortable, you tried to work out what to say to her.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she said eventually, her shoulders relaxing when you made no further move towards her.

“Dreading the morning?” you asked.

“Why would you assume that?”

You shook your head, pressing your lips together to hide your smile. She wasn’t asking with anger, more confusion. As if she couldn’t understand why this marriage may not be the wonderful event your parents had even framing it as.

“I suppose because I think this is the most we’ve spoken to each other all week,” you said.

She stared at you for a moment before she slumped back.

“You won’t tell your father, will you?” she asked.

“It’s not as if I’ve been showing you my best, either,” you replied, “and I don’t need another lecture about royal duty and what it means to serve the people.”

“I don’t want you to think it’s because of you,” she said.

“Oh, I take none of it personally,” you said, “it’s not like it’s the ideal situation for me, either. Although I’m sure you’re lovely.”

“It’s not?”

“Wanda, I don’t know you. I certainly don’t love you. And the person I do love I can’t marry,” you said.

“You love someone else?” she asked.

You blinked at her. Clearly the conversation was not about what you thought it was about. The love sick look of despair as she’d gazed out the window had seemed cut and dry. You’d thought you were in the same position here.

“Don’t you?” you asked in return.

“Well, yes, but I thought I was the only one,” she replied.

“Who is it for you?” you asked, leaning towards her.

“My personal guard, Sir Vision,” she said.

“He’s very tall,” you said, nodding along, “I can understand why you’d be drawn to him. I bet he’s strong too.”

“Very,” she said.

“I’m sure he swept you off your feet,” you sighed.

“He did,” she said.

“Why didn’t he offer you his hand in marriage?” you asked, “a knight and a princess? That’s an acceptable match.”

“He did,” she replied.

“You didn’t say no, did you?” you asked.

“Of course not,” she said, sounding offended at the implication.

“So you have two fiancees?” you asked, straightening up. You felt on the edge of working out the issue but you needed one more puzzle piece to fall into place.

“Of course not. What do you take me for?” she demanded, “I have a husband and a fiancee.”

You stared at her, your mouth falling open. Her eyes widened and she clapped a hand over her mouth. The silence stretched and stretched. Hope bloomed in your chest and you felt breathless.

There it was, the final puzzle piece.

“You can’t tell anyone,” she said, surging forward.

Falling to her knees in front of you, she grasped both of your hands in a vice like grip. You tried to tug out of her hold but she tightened her hands. You made a small noise, your circulation being cut off from how tight her grip was.

“Unhand her.”

You weren’t expecting the doors to crash open or the loud voice ringing out in the library. Wanda fell back, landing on her butt as a half feral Agatha rushed at her. Rising, you caught her around the waist, intercepting her before her nails could drag over the skin of the princess’s face. She snarled over your shoulder at the other woman.

“Agatha, stop,” you said, forcing her back a step.

“I won’t. You might have accepted that you’re going to be married off like some object to help ease into a political alliance, but I haven’t,” she growled, “she will never make you as happy as I can.”

“I know,” you said.

“You keep your hands off her. She’s mine,” she snarled.

“Of course I am,” you said.

“You can’t have her. I’m putting my foot down. She can’t have you,” she told you, finally looking at you again.

“Sweetheart, I’m beginning to think you might be a bit jealous.” You pushed her wild hair back from her face.

“Damn right I am,” she said.

“Well then, it’s good I’ve just found out some information that might lead to all of us being very happy,” you said.

“You… what?” You loved whenever you could surprise her into speechlessness.

“Yes, Wanda and I were just sharing secrets and it turns out any marriage between her and I may not be legal,” you said.

“You’re related?” she asked, eyes widening as she stared at your face.

“Better. She’s married,” you replied.

“Oh.” Blue eyes swept over Wanda, considering her with interest for the first time, “we can work with that.”

“You’ll do no such thing. No one can know,” Wanda said, straightening up as she glared at your lover.

“Wanda,” you soothed, letting Agatha go to approach her on slow feet, aiming not to scare her, “surely you don’t want to do this. You know neither of us will be happy.”

“It’s not about being happy,” she said.

“But imagine if it could be. We both have the means to be happy. We just need to work out how to have it without starting a war,” you said, gently taking her hands.

“I don’t see how,” she said.

“I do. We let the king know she’s already hitched and then you don’t have to marry her,” Agatha said, flinging herself down into the chair you’d vacated to keep her from scratching out the other woman’s eyes out and starting a war all by herself.

“Or, we all just disappear into the night and no one knows any better,” you said.

“Oh, when I suggest it you couldn’t possibly do it, but when you suggest it suddenly it’s a great idea,” Agatha grumbled and you just knew she was crossing her arms and pouting.

“I’m just saying, with the four of us we have a better chance of surviving and not being found,” you said, “he comes with a big sword.”

“You’ve never complained about my sword,” she muttered.

“I have an idea…” Wanda said, gazing out the window again, “but it might make everyone very angry.”

The next day, you were beyond nervous. If only one thing went wrong, then it would all be over. You were quiet as you were dressed, and you kept catching Agatha’s eye in the mirror. Her grin was entirely too predatory and you were certain she was going to give the game away, but your mother didn’t seem to notice anything. Not even when she slipped away

Walking down the aisle, you stared at the vision in white at the end. Large dress and veil obscuring her face, your stomach clenched. You held your breath, coming to stand across from her, wishing you could see the face underneath.

You did your best to get through the vows. The weight of so many eyes was making you feel twitchy. You grasped the hands of your bride, the callouses scraping against the palm of your hands. It helped settle you as you repeated your vows, squeezing her hands.

You tensed as she began to recite her vows, certain this was going to be the moment it all fell apart. But then it had passed and the end of the ceremony was approaching. When the priest told you to kiss the bride you held your breath.

Throwing the veil back, Agatha grinned at you. Swooping in, she dipped you, kissing you deeply, and despite your anxiety, you melted against her. You always did. Something about her had ruined you for anyone else.

Straightening, you heard the outcry from your parents, from Wanda’s parents, from all the people surrounding the two families. Agatha’s arm tightened around your waist, hauling you against her body. You stared into your father’s thunderous face.

“Sorry, Father,” you said.

“This… this…” He didn’t have the words to express how angry he was.

“I love her,” you said.

“What have you done with my daughter?” King Maximoff demanded.

“Sent her off on her honeymoon with Sir Vision,” Agatha replied, grinning at him.

The roar of voices shouting was loud. You flinched back. Agatha held you tighter as you did your best not to look like you were trembling.

“This is our cue to exit,” she whispered, lips against your ear.

You nodded. She grabbed your hand and then you were flying back down the aisle, leaving the madness behind. Agatha was laughing and you couldn’t help but join in. In the distance, you saw two figures on horses, making their way towards the road to the next kingdom over where a very nice inn was awaiting their arrival.

“Come, wife,” Agatha said, waving to the couple, “time to consummate this marriage.”

When your family finally thought to check your bedchamber for you, it was far too late to annul the marriage.

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness imagine #agatha harkness #agatha all along #aaa week

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sweetcherriexs · 14 days ago

Text

good girl; b.e.

smut...

It had started innocently enough. billie was on tour, thousands of miles away, and the distance was starting to wear on both of you. you’d been texting throughout the day, little updates about your lives, but the conversation had taken a turn after dinner when billie sent a photo of herself backstage. She was leaning against a wall, all sweaty with hair stuck to her forehead and eyes hooded. she had that damn eyeliner on that made your pussy throbb and pulsate with need each time you saw her wearing it. the picture was casual, but the look on her face was anything but.

you had responded immediately. you’re killing me, bils. I can’t handle how fucking hot you are.

billie’s reply came swiftly. I know. and I know you’re lying in our bed, thinking about me.

how do you always know? you had typed back, cheeks flushing.

because I know you, baby. I know how bad you want me right now. for me to be inside you, for my mouth on your wet pussy

The flirting escalated quickly. billie’s messages became more explicit, her words laced with the kind of confidence that only she could pull off.

I’m thinking about how soft your skin feels under my hands. how you whimper when I kiss your neck. how you beg for my cock to be inside your pussy.

your fingers trembled as you typed. I miss your touch. I miss the way you make me feel. fuck, bils, please.

then tell me what you’re doing right now, billie pressed.

you hesitated, heart pounding. I’m in bed… thinking about you.

Are you touching yourself? billie’s message was direct, leaving no room for evasion.

your breath hitched. not yet

mm, will you?

you gulped at the message, hand itching to touch your pussy yes

send me a picture, pretty

The request made your stomach flip. you'd done this before, but it still felt daring—exhilarating. you propped your phone up, took a moment to adjust the lighting, and snapped a photo. your skin was flushed, hand resting on your thigh, and your lips parted. your sent it quickly without overthinking.

billie’s response was immediate. fuck, baby, you’re youre so hot. I wish I could be there to take care of you.

then tell me what you’d do, you typed back, fingers moving faster now, eager to know what billie's thinking about doing to you.

call me.

you didn't hesitate, pressing the call button in a second and she accepted the call immediately, her smooth voice ringing out "hey, baby" she mused, a smirk noticeable in her tone.

"hey, bils..." you panted out, breath heavy even though you haven't done anything. "tell me, please" you begged, already so worked up and desperate. you heard her chuckle on the other line before she spoke again;

"I’d start by kissing you. softly at first, just to tease you. then I’d bite your lip, just hard enough to make you gasp. would you like that?"

“yes,” your breathed, your free hand drifting lower.

“and then I’d move down your neck, leaving marks where only I can see them. I’d make sure everyone knows you’re mine.”

you moaned, fingers brushing against yourself through your pants. “billie…”

"ah- ah - ah... mm, I want you to strip for me, slowly. take off those clothes, pretty" billie's voice was like velvet, commanding yet sensual.

obediently, you began to undress, your fingers fumbling with the buttons of your shirt. billie smirked to herself, listening to your eager fumbling.

"That's my good girl. Now, slide those pants down... god i wish i could see you." billie's words were like a drug, sending a rush of heat between your thighs.

you complied, your movements becoming more fluid as you reveled in her instructions. the cool air caressed your naked skin, and you shivered, not from the temperature but from the intensity of her gaze, even though she was miles away. when the cool air of you and billie's bedroom hit your drenched pussy, you gasped the slightest bit, biting your lip in anticipation.

"good... now lie back" she instructs and you comply, shifting back and lying down with a shaky breath. "now, touch yourself, baby. slide your fingers down and tease that clit. I want to hear you moan for me." billie's voice was hoarse with desire, and you could almost feel her breath on your neck.

your fingers trembled as you brought them to your core, circling your clit gently at first, then with increasing pressure. "fuck, billie!" you whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut at the sensation. "fuck fuc-... mmm, yes, yes. please-" you gasped out almost incoherent phrases.

"that's it, baby. rub that pretty pussy. imagine its my fingers, hmm? stroking you, making you wetter." billie's words were a symphony of filth, and you were her willing conductor.

you moaned, your fingers working feverishly, picturing billie's long, slender digits joining yours, claiming your pleasure as her own.

“keep going, baby,” billie encouraged, her voice a mix of tenderness and authority. “tell me how it feels.”

“so-... so good, fuck." you moaned "I wish it was your hand, though. your mouth.”

billie’s exhale was sharp, as she drank in your words “I’d make you come so hard, pretty, I’d take my time, make you beg for it,"

your hips lifted off the bed, body craving the release only billie could give you. “please…”

"stop" you whined at the single command, but your body knew better, obeying her immediately. "good girl. touch your pretty tits"

you inhaled deeply, moving your wet hand up your body until it reached the plush mounds on your chest, squeezing them.

"that's right, baby. imagine my fingers playing with your nipples, pinching and rolling them between my thumbs and forefingers."

you whimpered again, rolling your hardened nipples between your fingers. tugging, rolling, repeat and anything in-between as you let out soft gasps.

your fingers slipped deeper between your folds, slick with desire, and you moaned as you imagined billie's hand moving in unison with yours, claiming your pleasure as her own.

"that's it, baby. you're doing so good. such a good girl" her voice only intensified the burn in your stomach further, breath coming in short gasps as your fingers pumped in and out of your sopping cunt, the sound of the wet squelching noticeable through the phone as your chest rose and fell with each thrust of your fingers.

"bils... bils- fuck, baby-" you moaned, rutting against your own hand. "I- shit, please-" your wrist was burning, but you couldn't stop. your fingers were plunging in and out of your wet pussy at an erratic pace, desperate and needy for release. for billie's touch.

“you sound so pretty when you’re like this,” billie murmured. “so desperate for me. I love hearing you fall apart.”

"I'm gon- please-... fuck, fuck... I'm gonna cum-" you moaned, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you imagined billie's fingers being the ones fucking you so good. "can-... can I? please, please" you panted, feeling your clit throb, needy for a touch as the knot in the bottom of your belly threatened to snap any second now.

billie hummed, the sound spurring your orgasm on even more and you whimpered. "I don't know, baby... can you?"

"please-" you gasp out again " I've been a good girl, bils. please-.."

billie smirked, letting out a breath before speaking. "cum for me, pretty girl. cum all over your own hand as you imagine it's mine"

the coil snapped, making you gasp loudly, back arching off the bed as you surrendered to the pleasure, your body convulsing as you climaxed, your cries echoing through the night. your body tensed as waves of pleasure crashed over you and you cried out billie’s name.

as you lay panting, Billie's soft laughter filled your ears. "Gosh I wish I was there... tasting your sensitive little pussy" she muttered, breath noticeably heavy and her voice husky.

"yeah?" you breathed out, your heart still pounding in your ears. "I'll do it for you-..." you said and your head came up to your lips, taking your drenched fingers into your mouth and moaning around them, pushing them deeper as you gagged around them before pulling it out.

"fuck" billie huffed "do you taste good, baby? hmm? tell me" she asked, her voice dropping an octave as the desire caught up to her.

"yes, yes I do" you nodded, though she can't see. "wish I was sucking your cock though" you heard billie groan on the other line, then some rustling before she spoke again.

"keep it up, pretty. it's my turn"

#ദ്ദി(ᵔᗜᵔ)#billie eilish fandom #billie eilish smut #billie eilish fanfic #billie ellish lyrics #billie eilish imagine #billie eilish #billie eilish x #billie eilish x female reader #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish x you #billie eilish fanfiction

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literaryavenger · 10 months ago

Text

Obsessed

Summary: Your crush on Bucky may be getting out of control.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Warnings: Dramatic Reader. Language. Angst. Fluff. My poor attempts at being Funny.

Word Count: 1.4K I'm physically incapable of making anything short.

A/N: I wrote this in like 2 hours and I don't even know what this is, just... Yeah.

Masterlist

This is terrible.

This is the worst thing that's ever happened to you.

This is the worst thing that's ever happened to anyone. It's just the most horrible, dreadful, awful thing that could’ve ever happen to yo-

“Would you stop staring at him for fuck's sakes!” Natasha's hissed words make your eyes snap to her and finally away from the metal armed Supersoldier lifting weights. Shirtless.

You don't know when Bucky stopped feeling self-conscious enough to allow him to workout in nothing but a pair of gym shorts, but it has become literal torture for you.

Needless to say, Bucky's current level of undress is making it impossible for you to concentrate on the stretching you're supposed to be doing before your sparring match with Natasha.

But your very thoughtful and not at all exasperated friend makes sure to keep your attention on her during the entirety of our match by thoroughly kicking your ass.

What a lovely best friend you have.

Anyways.

Your entire mood shifts with one not intentionally overheard conversation. Steve enters the gym and goes straight to Bucky, who was putting his weight set down.

“She’s here!” Is all the blonde says to his friend and your heart stops at the way Bucky’s face lights up with a smile, not needing any more information before following Steve out of the gym.

She’s here? Who the fuck is she? Does Bucky have a girlfriend? And most importantly, she’s here? In the Compound?

Natasha can almost see the gears turning in your brain as you make no attempts to move from the mat after she knocked you on your ass for the hundredth time today. You didn’t even seem to notice her hand offering you help to get up, your eyes still looking where Bucky was just a moment ago, staring at nothing in particular while your brain drowns in your overthinking.

Natasha sighs and decides to end the match here, kneeling down in front of you and placing her hands on your shoulders, shaking you gently to snap you out of it.

“Don’t overthink this.” She tells you when she’s sure she has your attention. “It’s probably just a friend visiting.” She tries to comfort you, but you both know that’s highly unlikely.

Bucky has no other friends outside the team. He doesn’t know how to talk to civilians anymore after everything he’s been through, and gave up trying to after the hundredth time he saw fear in a person’s eyes just by recognizing him. So his friend circle now includes the team and the agents of SHIELD that are not intimidated by him. Point is, every friend he has already lives in the Compound.

So who the fuck is here just to see him?

Natasha can see that this is a lost battle, your eyes barely concentrating on her as you start drowning in your mind again. All she can do when you’re like this is try to distract you and keep you out of your head. So she takes your hand and helps you up, leading the way to the common room to watch one of your beloved romcoms together, because that’s how much she loves you.

Big mistake.

“Y/N! Y/N!” The excited high-pitched voice came just seconds after you set foot in the common room. And that’s about the only warning you got before the excited 5-year-old jumped on you, your reflexes thankfully quick enough to catch her.

“Hi, Maguna!” You say while chuckling as the little girl hugs you. “You seem excited today. Did you get into the sugar cabinet again?”

Morgan giggles at your joke and shakes her hand before taking your face in her little hands and dramatically saying, “No! A princess came to visit uncle Bucky! A real princess.”

You frown, confused at what she’s talking about, before you look around the room and finally notice everyone else in it. Pepper and Tony are on the couch, looking at you lovingly as you interact with their daughter.

You love Morgan, she’s like a little sister. You never miss an opportunity to babysit her and you spend as much time with her as you can. She also loves you, out of all the Avengers you’re her favorite, much to everyone’s dismay. She calls them all ‘aunt’ and ‘uncle’, but you’re just Y/N. You’re her big sister, you don’t need a title. Which is why you're the only one other than Tony allowed to call her 'Maguna'.

Then you notice the other people in the room: Steve, Bucky and… Shuri. The fucking Princess of Wakanda, standing in the common room of the Avengers Compound and just smiling at you as you carry Morgan.

You’ve never met Shuri, but you know she played an important part in deprogramming the Winter Soldier out of Bucky, and you’re grateful to her for it. She’s important to Bucky, and you can’t believe you forgot Bucky has Wakandan friends.

You put Morgan down on the ground again and the little girl takes your hand and aggressively steers you towards where Steve, Bucky and Shuri are standing, clearly thrilled to be in the presence of a real life princess.

“Hi, I’m Shuri.” She offers you her hand when you get close enough and you shake it with your free hand while introducing yourself.

There’s a bit of an awkward pause and you’re about to say the first thing that pops into your head when Morgan thankfully saves you by pulling on your hand, making you look at her. She tells you to come close and, chuckling, you kneel beside her so she can whisper conspiratorially in your ear.

“She’s a princess and she’s really pretty, but I still like you better.” She whispers and you can’t help but laugh.

God, you love this little girl.

You smile brightly at her and launch a tickle attack, her adorable giggles filling the room as everyone looks at you two with warm smiles.

Your attention is solely on Morgan, until you unintentionally hear the whispered conversation between Shuri and Bucky.

“So, this is the girl, huh? She’s pretty.” Shuri says and your heart skips a beat.

You glance at them as discreetly as you can while still tickling Morgan, only to find Bucky looking at someone behind you. You turn around less carefully and see Sharon just entered the room, and she's also looking at Bucky with a smirk. You quickly return your attention to Morgan, but your mind is going a thousand miles a minute.

Of course he’d like someone more like Sharon. She’s pretty, she’s talented, she’s a total badass and she’s not afraid to go after what she wants.

She’s not a mass of anxiety in the shape of a woman that overthinks everything and becomes a flustered mess every time she’s even near Bucky.

It’s time to admit it to yourself: Bucky just doesn’t see you like that and you need to move on.

Natasha is right, your obsession with Bucky needs to end.

What you don’t see is Bucky almost glaring at Sharon because he knows damn well why she’s smirking. She came in just before Shuri whispered to Bucky, when he was very intent on looking at you with heart eyes as you played with Morgan.

Just before you looked at him, Bucky noticed Sharon and he had to hold in a groan at her because he knows that she’s never gonna let him live this down.

Both Sharon and Steve have tried really hard to convince Bucky that you like him back and he should make a move on you. But Bucky, being as stubborn as they come, never believes them.

He obviously makes you uncomfortable, you’re always stuttering when he’s around and you avoid eye contact whenever possible. He’s just glad that you can stand his presence enough for the two of you to work together when necessary and to hang out with the rest of the team without problems.

So he just enjoys looking at you from a distance. He loves watching you play with Morgan and his thoughts always run wild with images of you playing like that with kids that are yours and his.

But he knows that’s never going to happen. Why would you like a damaged, PTSD ridden soldier that can’t even make it through the night without waking up from a nightmare? No, that’s definitely not your type.

Bucky accepts the truth: He doesn’t deserve you and you don’t see him like that anyways.

It doesn’t matter that Sam thinks he’s obsessed, that won’t stop him from looking at you whenever he’s lucky enough to get a glimpse of his little ray of sunshine.

Requested taglist: @vicmc624 @matchat3a @nerd-without-a-cause @sapphirebarnes @cjand10 @mostlymarvelgirl @julvrs @blackhawkfanatic @lillianacristina @armystay89 @imdoingbetternow @spookyparadisesheep @elizalexwil @aceofhearts25 @dontworryboutitsweetheartxx-blog @justab-eautifulmess @buggy14 @thedonswife13

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