#because I really did enjoy them and felt like I had to make them an epic soulmate couple with heart wrenching scenes | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

novvabee · 3 days ago

Note

could you write about the mauraders when they go to the shrieking shack for the full moon and there’s another werewolf? Idk something like that

ooooo, this gave me a really fun idea, hope you enjoy 💗

The Deer, The Dog, And The Two Wolves

summary: remus meets another wolf

word count: 2.3k

“I mean, did you see her? Talk about fit!” Sirius laughed, walking through the portrait into their common room. He was talking about the new girl, the girl who had started halfway through the semester.

Poor girl was paraded in front of the whole school for her sorting. She was obviously embarrassed and uncomfortable to be the center of the whole school’s attention.

“Too bad she was sorted into Slytherin,” Sirius said as he threw himself across a sofa in the middle of the common room, “I would have liked to get to know her.” This made Lily and Mary scoff from the opposite couch in front of the fireplace.

“Why’s she starting in the middle of the semester?” James asked.

“Maybe she just moved here.” Lily supplied.

“Lucky her,” James said, “she just missed midterm exams.” Everyone chuckled at that.

While everyone was conversing and laughing, Remus had dread looming over him. His muscles began to ache and he could feel the effects of the approaching full moon. The moon would be tomorrow night, but Remus had been feeling it all week. After a while of chatting, all he wanted to do was crawl into bed.

“I am quite tired,” Remus said, standing and motioning for the boys to follow. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow?”

“Yeah! Just meet us in hogsmeade.” Mary says.

Remus nods, the other boys say their goodnights and they all make their way up to their room. As soon as the door was shut behind them, Remus was falling into bed.

“What is the plan for tomorrow?” James asked, they usually had no trouble sneaking out and waiting in the shrieking shack for Remus, but this time, the girls insisted the boys come with them to hogsmeade for the day. Only Lily knew about Remus, so sneaking away was going to be harder than normal.

“I was thinking I could cut away from the group with Remus and we could head to the shack while you help Lily distract the others.” Sirius said, having planned that out fairly quickly. “That sound alright?” he asked Remus.

Remus was too tired, too weary to answer vocally so he just nodded. The boys looked at him with pity, they knew how he was feeling, so they just opted to let him sleep.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The day spent in Hogsmeade was lovely, despite the pain and tenseness that Remus felt, he still enjoyed himself.

They made their way from shop to shop, buying candies from Honeydukes and gadgets from Zonkos. The girls begged to stop by Gladrags and the boys reluctantly agreed.

“Fine,” James said, rolling his eyes, “but only because I need a new tie.”

The group piled into the shop, the girls immediately rushing towards the new dresses and coats, Remus and Sirius turned to browse the rings and necklaces.

Remus felt… odd. He felt the hairs on his neck stand and a chill run down his spine, immediately set on edge. He had never felt this before, a new experience for him. He put himself on high alert, scanning the shop, but seeing or sensing nothing out of the ordinary, just that unfamiliar tingle.

“Dear Merlin,” Sirius muttered from beside him. Remus followed his gaze across the shop to see Regulus. It seemed like the brothers noticed each other at the same time, because Regulus turned to his group of friends, and they swiftly exited.

“Still in a spat?” Remus asked Sirius.

Sirius huffed and replied “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Remus left it alone, seeing as the day was going very well, he didn’t want to ruin it in any way.

James got his tie and the girls all bought different clothes and were ready to continue on. It was getting later in the day, the sun would set soon, so Remus wanted to finish the trip.

“Butterbeer, anyone?” he asked and the whole group perked up and started down the street towards The Three Broomsticks.

Remus opened the door for the group, allowing everyone in, before stepping in himself. Once inside, that grating feeling was back. He looked around again, but was met with the same outcome, there was nothing awry. Confused, he just figured the moon was messing with his senses.

The group found a table towards the back of the pub and they all squeezed in. Remus found himself sandwiched between Marlene and James. The whole bunch was lively as ever, laughing and joking, talking about everything and nothing at all.

The witch who ran the pub asked the table for their orders and James ordered butterbeers for the whole table. So typical of James, to order and pay for everyone, spend his fortune on his friends and a good time.

Mary gasped from across the table, making everyone turn their attention to her. “Don't look now,” she said, “but that new girl is sitting with the Slytherins.”

The whole table snapped their necks toward where Mary was looking.

“I said don’t look!” she squealed.

She was right, the new girl was sitting next to Dorcas and across from Regulus, looking like she was in a deep conversation with them. But, almost like she felt their eyes on her, she looked over to them. The whole group tried to turn and make it look like they weren’t just staring at her(it was so obvious), but she caught Remus’s eye before he could look away.

It was like she looked directly into his soul, and there was that feeling again. Remus could have sworn she sat up straighter, taken by surprise for some reason. She narrowed her eyes at him, looked him up and down, then returned to her conversation.

Odd…

Their butterbeers arrived and Remus put the interaction aside, deciding to just enjoy the rest of the time he had with his friends. Once the group finished, Sirius casually yawned and turned to Remus. “Fancy a smoke?” he asked. Remus nodded and exited the pub with Sirius.

They began their journey to the shrieking shack, Remus feeling the nip in the air, but also that feeling. He took a cigarette out of his jacket pocket, handed one to Sirius, then lit them both. Perhaps a smoke would ease the odd sensation. Walking in comfortable silence, taking drags of their cigarettes, the boys eventually ended up at the shack.

Remus dropped the butt of his cigarette and snuffed it out with his shoe, Sirius taking one last drag, then doing the same.

“Now,” Sirius started, “James will meet up with us but it’s business as usual right?”

Remus nodded. “Yeah, just try to stay in the forest like normal.”

“Gotcha,” Sirius replied. “Gotta lock you in now, Moons.”

Remus opened the door to the shack and stepped inside. He pulled the door closed and heard Sirius mutter the spell to magically seal him in until he transformed, then one of them would open the door and they would spend the whole night racing and playing in the woods in their animal forms.

Remus didn’t enjoy a lot of his lycanthropy, but being able to run in an animalistic way with his best mates, that was one thing he did enjoy.

Remus made his way upstairs to the old, beaten up bedroom, and layed on the bed. He began waiting for the transformation.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Something was off, Sirius could tell. He and James, who had broken away from the group finally, were sitting at the edge of the forest.

They heard Remus transforming, which was never easy, but this time it seemed that he was having a particularly rough time. James winced from beside Sirius and shook his head. Once they were certain he was fully changed, James magically unlocked the door.

They both transformed into their animagus form, but Remus didn’t come out. Sirius and James looked at each other and Sirius went inside to check on Remus, coax him out of the shack.

Sirius padded upstairs, expecting to see the wolf destroying something or clawing at the furniture, but he was met with a completely different scene entirely. The wolf was pacing around the room in a circle, sniffing the air and whining. When it saw the black dog that had entered, it perked up, but still looked around, as if looking for someone else.

The dog raced downstairs, goading the wolf to chase it. The wolf gave in easily and followed the dog down the stairs and out of the house where they were met with the large stag. The wolf tackled the deer, rolling and play-fighting until the wolf’s ears perked up. It snapped it’s head to the forest and bolted.

The dog and the deer had no chance to wrangle it before it slipped through the tree line and into the dark forest beyond. The dog and the deer looked at each other and then dashed after the wolf.

Sirius didn't understand what had gotten into the wolf, but raced as fast as he could to catch up.

That is when the howl came from deep in the forest. Everything stopped, the whole forest seeming to be silenced. Then the answering howl sounded.

The deer and the dog followed the sound to an opening in the forest, a small field with a large oak in the center. They expected to find Moony there, chasing something, but they were not expecting to see two wolves circling each other.

They hung back at the tree line, watching but ready to protect Remus if anything were to happen.

The other wolf was smaller, a female, but just as dangerous, still a werewolf.

The two wolves continued circling each other, tense. The smaller wolf noticed the dog and the stag at the forest’s edge, and growled, hackles raising. Moony stepped between her and his friends, protecting them, and growled deep back at her. The other wolf turned her attention to him now, focusing all her anger at him.

Moony wasn’t backing down, determined to protect the dog and the stag behind him. He clawed at her, catching her right under the eye. She wasted no time in returning the favor, and swiped right back at him, getting him good.

Moony, shocked, stepped back and sat down, like a dog asking for a treat. The other wolf blinked, then mirrored his actions. Moony pounced and ran off, the other wolf following, chasing.

They were playing.

The dog and the deer looked at each other, then back to the two wolves, then joined in.

It was slightly harder, keeping track of two wolves rather than just the one, but at least they could rough-house with each other and not be too afraid to hurt the other, like Remus often was with Sirius or James.

The two wolves raced each other and swam in the lake, the whole group having fun, until Sirius noticed the morning light. Dawn would break soon and Remus would transform back, they needed to get him back to the shack. Moony, however, was being more difficult than normal.

The moment Sirius and James tried to corral him and chase him back to the shack, Moony refused. He kept wandering over to the other wolf, trying to continue to play. So James and Sirius decided that both the wolves had to be wrangled into the shack, if that was the only way to get Remus back in.

That task was incredibly difficult, Moony bouncing all over the place and the other wolf threatening to snap at the boys if they got too close. They eventually managed to lock both the wolves in the shack with minimal damage.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Remus woke on the floor of the bedroom feeling more tired than he had ever been after a full moon. He felt like he could sleep for ages. His aching body needed all the rest it could get.

Small moments from the night came back to him and suddenly…

He snapped his head toward the bed to see a sleeping figure curled up in the old and torn blankets. That feeling tingled the back of his neck again.

The figure sat straight up, feeling the same feeling. Remus knew that face, the new girl. She made direct eye contact with him, then quickly scanned the room, unsure of where she was.

He could see she was scared, so he calmly said “It’s ok, you’re ok.”

She looked at him unsure. “W-where are we?” she asked, voice a little raw.

“This is called the shrieking shack, it's where I come… to transform.” Remus answered, still trying to calm her and get her to trust him.

“You’re the wolf I was with last night?” she asked, more like putting the pieces together.

Remus nodded. “My name’s Remus.” He smiled.

“Y/N” she answered.

“Nice to meet you Y/N.” He said, noticing how she seemed to start relaxing.

“And… that dog and the deer?” she asked.

Remus chuckled, not knowing exactly how to answer that. “They’re harmless.”

She nodded and they sat in silence for a minute before she spoke again. “I didn’t know there were others… like me.” she said.

Remus didn’t know how to talk about this with anyone, he had never met another werewolf. All he could seem to do was nod.

“H-how long have you been… you know…” she asked timidly.

Remus smiled sadly. “‘I was bitten when I was really young, about three.” He answered.

Her eyes widened and she gasped. “Three!?” she looked in disbelief. “I am so sorry, you’ve had to deal with this for a long time…”she trailed off. “I was bitten a couple years ago. That's why I transferred schools, the other one kicked me out, thought that I was a danger to the other students.”

“I am so sorry,” this time it was Remus’s turn to feel bad.

She smiled sadly. “It’s ok, besides, now I know someone else like me.”

206 notes · View notes

aquaticmercy · 16 hours ago

Text

Full Throttle

Summary : Bucky thinks he hooked up with a really pretty mechanic.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x motorcycle racer!reader (she/her)

Warnings/tags : cursing. Sex is implied. Bucky on a motorcycle. Purely self-indulgent fic.

Word count : 3.9k

Note : reader is a MotoGP rider! I’m still reeling from the championship battle last week that I just needed to write this. Also I apologise for everyone who wasn’t tagged in waste a moment! I lost half my notes and I’ve been trying to recover it. Hopefully it’ll be resolved by tomorrow. Enjoy!

Bucky Barnes wasn’t just drawn to motorcycles because they were fast or dangerous— at least not entirely.

He loved them because of the freedom they gave him, the sense of control when everything else in his life felt it had spiralled into oblivion. Riding demanded focus and precision—all the things he’d spent the last couple of years training.

When he was on his bike, the world faded away. There was only the hum of the engine, the wind in his hair, and the open road.

And sure, being on the road was fun, but sometimes, all he wanted was a challenge.

That’s when he found the dirt track in the edge of town— a place where he could train for missions that called for high-speed chases— a place he could lose himself for a while.

It was something fun to do once in a while, you know? Sam would call this a hobby.

The roar of engines and the earthy tang of kicked-up dirt felt like home. In a way, it was strangely meditative. It reminded him of what it felt like to be human— to push himself to the limit, to make mistakes and learn.

Every Tuesday, after training, he came to the track.

And every Tuesday, so did you.

The first time he saw you, Bucky had to do a double take. You were standing by your bike, helmet tucked under one arm, dirt streaked across your padded leather jacket.

Bucky was no stranger to beautiful people, but there was something about you that struck him differently— maybe it was the confidence in the way you carried yourself or the fire in your eyes when you looked his way. Either way, he was floored.

At first, he figured you were just another skilled rider trying to forget the world. That it was just a hobby, like it was to him. But as the weeks went on, you realised this was your life.

It must be.

The way you rode was… incredible. Every turn was sharp, calculated. Precise.

And despite your obvious talent, you never made a big deal about it. Just like you never made a big deal out of the fact that he was the fucking Winter Soldier.

Of course, you knew who he was—he’d caught the occasional glint of recognition in your eyes. But you never brought it up, never asked for autographs or photos. Instead, you treated him like just another guy at the track.

That didn’t mean you didn’t flirt, though.

Every now and then, you’d throw him a cheeky grin. You’d playfully tell him things like, “Nice lap, soldier,” and Bucky would just blush (which you found adorable, of course).

He would always try to laugh it off, but the truth was, your teasing left his heart racing faster than his bike ever could.

—

Bucky had been working up the nerve for weeks, and today, he thought he would finally bite the bullet.

Today he was going to ask you out.

You were wiping the sweat from your brow when he leaned casually against his bike, trying to look more confident than he felt.

“You’re always here on a Tuesday,” he said, before mentally groaning at himself

What the fuck was that? He thought. Is Always here on a Tuesday really the best flirty opening line he had? It was not even an open-ended question. It was just an observation. Nice one, Barnes.

But instead of brushing him off, you paused, setting your gloves down with an amused spark lighting up in your eyes. “Could say the same for you, Barnes.” You tilted your head and gave a casual shrug, acting as if having a stunning super soldier gawking over you wasn’t flattering. “You stalking me?”

The corner of his lips curved upward, the nervous tension melting away ever so slightly. “Maybe I just like the view.”

That earned him a smirk. You let your eyes descend over him—his dark hair falling in perfect disarray, his shirt clinging to his chest under his jacket. “Sure,” you teased.

He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Maybe I’ve got a good reason to show up.”

“Oh?” you asked, stepping closer, tossing your helmet onto your bike seat with a little dramatic flair. “Don’t tell me the Winter Soldier needs more practice catching bad guys on a bike. Thought you had that down.”

“Yeah, well,” he drawled, letting his gaze linger on you. “Never hurts to train. Especially when there’s someone like you around to keep me humble.”

“Humble?” You quirked an eyebrow, folding your arms as you leaned a hip against the leather seat of the bike. “Looked pretty cocky last week, pulling that stunt to take down the bad guy.”

He blinked, genuinely surprised. “You saw that?”

It had been a theft— some guy thought he could steal experimental weapons from an old Stark warehouse and get away with it. Not his cleanest chase, but he did the job.

“Please, it was all over the news. Did you not see the four helicopters following the chase?” you said, a mischievous glint in your eye. “I gotta say, you’re not bad, Barnes.”

“Not bad?” he echoed, feigning offence.

You leaned in just a little, dropping your voice. “I’ve seen smoother turns. If you want pointers, I could teach you a thing or two.”

His lips parted, but no words came out for a moment as he processed how close you were. “You offering lessons now?”

You laughed before gesturing at his bike.

This was his dirt bike, a recreational bike— not the one he used for the chase last week. Still, it could use a bit of… fine tuning.

“Tell you what, soldier,” you said, “Fix that lag in your throttle response first. Then I’ll teach you a thing or two about taking corners.”

Bucky tilted his head, narrowing his eyes “There’s nothing wrong with my throttle response.”

“Oh, honey,” you purred, stepping just close enough for your shoulder to brush his. “I could hear it lagging from halfway across the track.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued.

“You saying I need a tune-up?”

“I’m saying,” you said, your voice like velvet, “that if you wanna keep up, you’re gonna need a better setup.”

He couldn’t help the grin tugging at his lips. He still didn’t have the guts to ask you out that day, but he walked away with hope, that maybe, this could grow into something more.

—

“So, you gonna tell me why you’ve been walking around with that goofy smile lately?” Sam asked, leaning back in his chair with a knowing look.

“What smile?” Bucky muttered, immediately defensive.

“The one you think nobody notices,” he shrugged. “Spill it, Buck. What’s her name?”

Bucky hesitated, running a hand through his hair. He hadn’t planned to tell anyone about his little crush. least of all Sam, but the look on his friend’s face said he wasn’t getting out of this conversation.

“Fine,” he said, exhaling. “There’s this girl.”

Sam grinned.

“She goes to the dirt track I go to every Tuesday,” Bucky said, staring at the bottle in his hands like it held the secret to not sounding like a lovesick idiot as he told him all about you.

—

From then on, Tuesdays became his favourite day of the week.

Bucky found himself counting down the hours until he could see you again, his mind replaying every smile, every laugh, every teasing touch.

You became bolder, not afraid of calling him handsome, of touching his arm even if it wasn’t necessary.

And damn it if didn’t make his heart race.

One evening, after a particularly thrilling session on the track, Bucky decided he’d had enough of dancing around what he wanted.

Leaning casually against his handlebars, he called out, “Race me.”

You looked up, one eyebrow raising in surprise. “What’s in it for me?” you asked, folding your arms and tilting your head in that way that always made his stomach flip.

“If you win,” he started, “you get bragging rights for a week.”

“A week, huh?” You repeated dramatically, “and if you win?”

Bucky’s lips curled into a slow grin, trying to appear confident even though his heart was pounding in his chest. “I get your number.”

Your giggle rang out, bright and sweet, and for a second, Bucky forgot how to breathe. “You got yourself a deal, soldier,” you said, shaking your head.

—

The two of you lined up at the start of the track, engines growling.

Bucky’s focus sharpened—he wasn’t just racing for pride; he was racing for the chance to finally take a step toward something he had wanted for months now.

When the signal came, you both shot off like bullets, dirt kicking up in clouds behind your tires. Bucky pushed his bike to the limit, leaning into every corner, his muscles strained with effort, grappling the dirt bike for control. But no matter how fast he went, he couldn’t shake the feeling that you were holding back.

You were supposed to be faster, more precise than this sloppy performance you were giving. He’d seen you before. What happened?

As you neared the final stretch, you slowed, just enough for him to surge ahead and cross the finish line first.

He skidded to a stop, panting and exhilarated, but the smug grin on your face told him everything he needed to know.

When you walked over later and handed him a scrap of paper with your number scrawled on it, you leaned in close enough for him to catch the faint scent of sweat and motor oil. “You won it fair and square,” you said.

Bucky narrowed his eyes, his lips twitching with a grin he couldn’t suppress. “You let me win.”

“How dare you accuse me of such a thing,” you feigned innocence, but couldn’t help the grin widening on your face.

He tucked the paper into his pocket, shaking his head.

As you put on your helmet back on, you casually remarked, “Throttle’s still lagging, by the way.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Bucky groaned, pretending to be annoyed. Secretly, he was thrilled to keep the conversation going. “I think it’s the fuel filter, but I haven’t had time to swap it out.”

“I’ve got one at my place,” you told him, turning on your engine, “Why don’t you come by?”

His head snapped up, surprised at the offer. “Now?”

“Why not?”

—

When arrived at your place, he had braced himself for something simple—a cosy apartment, maybe a small cluttered corner dedicated to your bike tools.

What he hadn’t expected was this.

Standing in the doorway, he blinked at the modern yet homey design laid out before him. The floor-to-ceiling windows bathed the space in golden evening light, reflecting off polished floors and expensive-looking furniture. The view of the city stretched out like a postcard behind you as you stood, arms crossed, watching him with a hint of amusement.

“This… is your apartment?” he asked, taking a step inside. His greasy leather jacket suddenly felt so out of place. His gaze darted over to a marble countertop in the kitchen, a plush couch, and then the walls— lined with the kind of art he’s only seen in high society auctions.

You tilted your head, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “Not what you expected, Barnes?”

He huffed a soft laugh. “Not really…”

“Ah,” you replied, moving toward a door off the main living area. “So just because I work with bikes, I can’t have nice things?”

“I didn’t say that,” he countered quickly, following you.

You threw a sly glance over your shoulder. “Didn’t have to.”

He tried to think of a witty response, but he was distracted by the thought of you—the way you moved, confident and unbothered, like you belonged in every room you entered.

You led him to a heavy door and pushed it open, revealing a contrast to the rest of the apartment— your workshop.

The workshop smelled like oil, grease, and faintly of rubber, the air swirling with the comforting scent of metal and machinery. The walls were lined with shelves holding neatly organised tools, spare parts, and bottles of lubricants. A stripped-down high-performance bike stood at the centre of the room, its engine exposed, wires and cables hanging loose.

Now this room, he thought, was undoubtedly you.

“This is more like it,” he murmured, his lips curving into a faint smile.

“See?” You smirked, moving to grab the replacement part he needed. “I’m not as fancy as you think.”

After pulling his bike through the back, he leaned against the wall, watching as you crouch next to his bike and get to work.

For a moment, he was quiet.

He watched in silence— the way your hands moved with precision, the way you were entirely in your element.

“So,” you began, glancing up at him. “What’s the Winter Soldier doing on a dirt track every Tuesday, anyway? Don’t you have, I don’t know, a world to save?”

He chuckled, folding his arms across his chest. “The world can wait.”

You laughed softly, returning your focus to the filter.

“I get it, kind of,” you replied, loosening a bolt. “Wanting to get away from everything.”

From then on, the conversation came effortlessly.

At first, he kept it light, sticking to anecdotes about the track or the occasional joke about his less-than-smooth bike handling in the beginning. But there was something about the way you listened—your easy, genuine curiosity—that made him feel safe, like he didn’t have to keep everything locked away anymore.

At one point, he couldn’t help but ask how someone who worked with bikes could afford a place like this. You only shrugged with a smile, giving the same answer you always did: “I got lucky.” He didn’t press, though he was curious—the ease in which you sidestepped the question intrigued him.

Before long, the conversation drifted again. He found himself sharing more than he ever thought he would. He told you about his missions, the chaos of his Winter Soldier days, the things he’d done and the memories he was still piecing together.

And you listened—not with pity, but with an understanding that felt rare, even among the people he called friends.

“You’re good at this,” he finally said.

“Bikes?”

“People,” he admitted, his eyes flicking to yours.

“Well, bikes are like people,” You tilted your head, studying him with a small, curious smile. “Both require care, attention, and understanding to perform at their best.”

When you finally finished, you stood, wiping your hands on a cloth. “All set,” you said, gesturing toward his bike.

“Thank you.” he said, though he made no move to leave. Instead, he lingered, his eyes on you as you leaned back against the counter.

“So,” you said, breaking the thick silence, your voice dipping into something almost playful. “You gonna stick around, or do you have somewhere to be?”

“Nowhere important,” he admitted quietly.

He took a step closer, then another.

The space separating you seemed to dissolve, his eyes locked on yours, pulling you in like gravity.

“Careful,” you murmured, teasing. “I might think you’re stalling just to spend more time with me.”

His lips curved into a faint, almost shy smile. “And if I am?”

The words hit you like a shot of adrenaline, your heart beating out of your chest. There was no humour in his tone, no hint of the usual back-and-forth banter that had defined so many of your conversations. Just desire staring back at you.

You swallowed hard, your voice barely audible. “I wouldn’t mind.”

He was close now, so close you could feel the heat rolling off him, his metal hand brushing against the counter as he leaned in.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured, his voice rough, a low growl in his throat. He cupped your jawline, mustering all the courage she could possibly gather.

You didn’t.

Instead, your lips parted in anticipation as he leaned in. Unable to bear it any longer, you tilted your head up, meeting him halfway.

The first press of his lips against yours was gentle, and the second was anything but. The restraint shattered immediately, giving way to something feral. His hand slid to the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair as he pulled you closer, his lips moving with a hunger that’s been brewing since he first saw you on the track.

Your hands found his chest, sliding up to his shoulders, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt. You tugged him closer, your chest pressing against his. He let out a low moan that sent a shiver down your spine.

When you finally broke apart for air, your foreheads rested together, your breaths mixing in the narrow space between you. His voice was husky, as if he was still recovering. “I should really take you out on a date first.”

You let out a shaky laugh, your hands still fisted in his shirt. “You can still do that.”

His lips brushed yours again. “Aren’t you trouble?”

“You love it,” you whispered, grinning wickedly as you pulled him back in.

The next kiss was hotter, hungrier�� it consumed you both. His hands slid to your waist, gripping you firmly as he backed you out of the workshop and into the apartment.

Your movements were uncoordinated, messy, your lips never leaving his as you stumbled against walls, furniture, and whatever else got in the way.

By the time you reached the bedroom, nothing else mattered.

—

Bucky woke to the soft light peeking through your curtains.

The scent of coffee reached him first. When he stumbled out of your bedroom, he spotted you at the marble kitchen counter, leaning on your elbows with a steaming mug in hand. You were dressed in one of your oversized shirts— and looked far too innocent for all the filthy things you did to him last night.

“Mornin’ doll,” he greeted as he sat across from you.

“Morning,” you chuckled at his adorable tousled hair.

“So…” he started, his voice thick with sleep, “about that date…”

You smirked, setting your mug down and sauntered around the island kitchen. “Thought you’d never ask.”

“Sunday?” he offered, watching you with a lazy smile as you perched on the stool next to his.

You shook your head, “I work weekends.”

That caught him off guard, but he didn’t let it show. “Remind me what exactly it is you do?”

“Bikes,” you said simply, the corner of your mouth twitching like you were holding back sensitive information.

He chuckled, assuming you were talking about your mechanic work. “Fair.”

You hummed, but the mischievous glint in your eyes didn’t escape him.

He tilted his head, curiosity tugging at the edge of his thoughts, but he decided not to push. You’d tell him when you wanted to. Instead, he flashed a small grin. “I’ll text you to arrange something, then.”

“You better,” you teased, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “You won my number, Barnes. Don’t make me regret giving it to you.

The challenge in your tone made his smirk widen, his hand slipping around your waist to pull you closer. “Oh, I won’t.”

—

That Sunday, Bucky was slouched on Sam’s couch, one leg kicked over the side of the coffee table, a book resting on his chest. Sam, on the other hand, was waging war with the TV remote, flipping through channels at record speeds.

“Just pick something already,” Bucky grumbled without looking up.

Sam rolled his eyes, ignoring him.

“Oh, MotoGP’s on,” he said suddenly, tossing the remote aside.

Bucky didn’t even glance at the screen at first, the low growl of engines and the commentator’s frantic observation was little more than background noise. But something about the sheer speed on display tugged at his attention. He finally looked up— and when he did, he could not take his eyes off the screen.

The camera focused on a Ducati weaving through the pack with a relentlessness that looked… familiar. The rider’s movements were fluid, each turn carved with precision, every overtake risky but calculated.

“Holy shit,” Sam muttered, leaning forward. Sam wasn’t the biggest fan— but he did watch these races from time to time. It always intrigued him, the danger they willingly took to win a race. “Look at—did you see that overtake?”

Bucky didn’t respond, his eyes locked on the rider. There was something about them—the way they leaned into each corner, never hesitating, always pushing for the absolute edge of human limitation.

The commentator’s voice broke through his thoughts.

“And there it is! The factory Ducati taking the lead with that beautiful overtake from the inside line! Unbelievable control!”

The Ducati was now in front, pulling away from the others as the final lap approached.

Bucky watched, as they flew through a sweeping right turn, knees and shoulders skimming the asphalt like it was second nature.

As the Ducati roared down toward the finish line, the chequered flag waved.

First place.

The crowd erupted, but Bucky barely heard it. The rider slowed, their gloved fist pumping the air, before coming to a stop after the cooldown lap.

The other riders were congratulating them, patting their helmet with friendly taps.

Soon, the camera zoomed in, capturing the moment they pulled off their helmet.

And Bucky’s stomach dropped.

It was you.

No helmet, no visor—just you, smiling that confident smile that he knew so well.

Oh. He was stupid. Bucky Barnes was so incredibly stupid.

Of course you were a motorcycle racer. The sleek apartment, the effortless style, the way you moved on the dirt track. The way you told him you worked on weekends— it all made perfect sense.

And yet, somehow, he'd convinced himself you were a mechanic. Of course he did.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered, bolting upright.

Sam shot him a confused look. “What?”

“That’s her,” Bucky said, his voice low in disbelief.

“Who’s ‘her’?”

“The mechanic,” he said, gesturing at the TV, as you celebrated with your team of race engineers. “The girl I told you about. That’s her.”

Sam blinked, staring at the screen, then back at Bucky. “Wait—you’re telling me she fixed up your fuel filter?”

Bucky didn’t answer, still staring at the screen. You were heading toward the press now, handing your helmet to a crew member as reporters swarmed you.

The camera cut for a post-race interview. You looked exhilarated, but still composed as you answered questions about your strategy— about the win.

Then the interviewer threw in a curveball:

“You’ve been on a hot streak lately. Is there anyone you want to dedicate this victory to?”

You hesitated just long enough for a sly grin to tug at your lips. Then, you looked directly into the camera.

“This win’s for a super soldier,” you said, your tone as playful as ever. You made a phone gesture with your fingers and winked. “Call me, Barnes.”

Bucky’s jaw dropped.

Sam burst out laughing, but in no less shock. “I cannot believe you hooked up with her! Bucky, You lucky son of a—“

But Bucky wasn’t listening anymore.

He couldn’t believe it. Of course he could keep up— you were literally leagues ahead of him.

And somehow, you were still into him.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Sam said, nudging him hard enough to make him wince. “You gonna call her or not?”

Bucky didn’t answer, already scrambling for his phone. His hands trembled a little as he unlocked it, a smile already tugging at his lips.

He wasn’t sure what he was gonna say when you picked up, but he knew one thing for certain: Tuesdays just got a whole lot more interesting.

-end.

176 notes · View notes

luludeluluramblings · 2 days ago

Note

dream team back. we’re currently yapping central again (per usual)

both of us are straight up in a tim drake brainrot spiral too!!! he’s a delightful little weirdo. a strange little gentleman if you will.

tim is such a funny little guy!!! he also makes a solid yandere. you can’t outsmart him. you can’t escape someone who can find everything about you. On the upside, I feel like he’d be happy to spoil his darling. also he’d be like, really considerate in weird ways??? I mean like you don’t get privacy (or you get the illusion of it maybe but not actual privacy.)

like yeah you’re always being watched in some way, but the man has committed every single one of your favorites and least favorites to memories. He knows what clothing you like, what specific features you look for in everything, and if he doesn’t, by god, will he learn. He knows your favorite song, and he knows the nickname you went by in elementary school.

Do you think he pretends to be normal and basically sets things up to send reader to be like a little love story?? You meet by chance, and he fell first. He fell a LONG time ago, so now it’s his mission to make you fall too. And Tim Drake ALWAYS finishes a mission. (Even as a baby daddy candidate). He makes himself the best option, even if he’s not the father.

Yandere!TimDrake x PastFriend!Reader x Aiden Cobblepot

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Sooooo, I'm finally and slowly going through my ask box and you two may have sparked an idea just for Tim. I might have to do a Part Two for this. (I'm falling into the WIP trap. Help!) But, I love the thought of the Bat Family have competition when it comes to their darling. Gives them a challenge. Plus, I really wanted to use Aiden Cobblepot for this. I've been wanting to sneak him into something.

A/N: We have neglected!Sib!Reader, but what about a Neglected!Friend!Reader? Fun idea. Tim already knowing everything about you only to find you’ve changed and wants to study you all over again. Only this time he’s keeping you! (I’m very fond of Tim. I think he’s difficult to write for me, but I enjoy the little stalker so much.)

Warnings: Yandere Themes, Romantic themes, Tim can be read as kinda platonic, GN!Reader

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

You and Tim were once good friends. Well, he was your best friend. To him you were just a good one. High school buddies that would hang out all the time. At school only. And sometimes the rare gala you saw him at. It was rare you ever actually went to The Manor. You never asked to go. But, you had hoped to be invite.

Just like you had hoped that he might reciprocate that pesky crush you had on him back then. You had felt like it was so painfully obvious. Though it wasn't as painful when you finally figured out he was Red Robin and you waited and waited for him to tell you his secret identity. And, then you would tell him you already figured it out and you would look so cool.

Only, he never did. You both grew distant. You had put so much carful effort into keeping that distance from growing. Inviting him to hang out more. Asking him out for casual coffee. He always said the same thing.

"Oh, damn. I could really go for that right now. But, I'm just sorta busy. Next time though. For sure."

Over and over. He sounded like a broken character. Repeating the same phrase. One that you would hang around after the game was over to reminisce about all the fun adventures you both once had. However this was life not a game. You couldn't just restart and rerun the same adventures.

It made you ache when you finally moved on. When you finally pulled away. Because, Tim didn't even notice you were gone. His life to change. He didn't have to restart anything. You had lost your best friend and he didn't even care. It stung. It stung more than you realizing he'd never reciprocate your feelings.

But, like all things, time moves on and so do you. Leaving the past behind and starting a new game. One that you start to flourish in. Making new friends. Meeting new people. Building closer bonds and more healthy friendships. It had been interesting to realize how dependent you had been on Tim once upon a time. And, embarrassing. You can't help looking back on it with a wince. You almost want to reach out and apologize. But, that would be weird and you both live completely separate lives now. You hardly ever see him at galas now. Mostly because you don't go anymore.

Things, do change. You never expected your new partner would draw Tim's attention back to you. And, in such a terrible way.

You had a rough idea of what you were getting into when Aiden Cobblepot had asked you out to dinner. You figured he was only interested in you for your money or your half-decent looks or your family name and position. You had heard all the rumors about him, but still you went. Mostly, because you knew how dangerous he and his family were. And, you were… presently surprised.

He was a bit of an entitled asshole. But, he wasn't scared of getting dirty. You watched him lead you through the puddles of rain water and Gotham grim in the posh restaurant. He held more concern for you're clothing getting dirty than his, which were more expensive than yours. He paid for the date without flinching at the price. Encouraged you to try his own food from his plate. Talked about fond memories of the things he and his sister got up to as children while asking you about your own childhood.

Admittedly, you were easily seduced because after that the two of you became an item. You didn't even realize how official you were until he introduced you to his sister, Addison, and she was actually nice to you. Extremely nice. She did, however, threaten to kill you if you betrayed Aiden in any way, which was honestly fair enough.

Aiden and you were a bit on the opposite side of things, taste wise and morally wise. But, you both made it work. He continued his life of crime, but made no mention of it around you to keep you legally clean. You shared most of your life with him, letting him have a slight glimmer into normalcy. He liked to take you on fancy dates and show you a good time. You were happy to pull him inside just to spend personal time with each other. Of course, you both made compromises. Aiden had a taste for luxury, and you didn't mind indulging in it. Especially after you beat his ass multiple times in Mario cart. It was only fair you let him take you to a gala some point.

Little did you know that that was how Tim would come clawing and digging his way back into your life.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

For Tim seeing you again was like finding an old precious treasure. His life had gotten so difficult and complicate lately that just a reminded of all those old times was nice.

However, seeing you on the arms of the Penguin's son was a brutal wake up call. What were you doing? Had you hit your head? Was he blackmailing you? Drugging you? Everyone in Gotham could recognize the name Cobblepot and how dangerous they are. And, he remembers how smart you were so you couldn't have willing chose to be there. It's not logical.

For your safety, he reintroduces himself to you. Long time, no see. We should hang out some time and catch up. Only he means it. He can't let this happen. He can't let you fall in with a man like that. You're his friend. He'll win you over for your own sake. Ruin Cobblepot while he's at it because how dare he use you.

Even if you changed. Even if you don't smell the same. If your hair is different. If you dress different. Even if your very laugh had changed pitch, he knows you. And, if anything, he can just re-learn you all over again. It won't take long. He's done it all before. This time he'll savor though. This time he won't let you go as he pulls you back in. You were a good friend, this time he'll make you more.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: I’m starting to type up Part Three of Pregant!Reader, but I ended up coming up with another start to it with more drama that would be strictly for the BatBoys. The messed up drama in it sounds fun and challenging, but I won’t do it until I finish what I started with the blurbs I have planned included.

A/N: Smalltown!Meta!Reader Part Nine is going to take a while. I have big plans for it, but Pregnant!Reader is kinda outshining it.

A/N: I will post about the LoungeSinger!Reader and another idea I came up with that y’all might like that I’ll add to the concept list.

A/N: There’s a Tony Part Two coming, but it’s only halfway typed and still not that yandere-y. Need to fix that.

A/N: My asks box is full, so I’m gonna try to empty it, but I host Thanksgiving in my family and I’m also a Christmas nut, so I’m gonna be busy. (I have four Christmas trees in my house currently… But I’m not as bad as my in-laws! They had their trees up BEFORE Halloween.)

#yandere tim drake x reader #yandere tim drake #yandere batfamily x reader #yandere dc #yandere batfam x reader #tim drake x reader #tim drake #aiden cobblepot #reader x aiden cobblepot #yandere batboys #yandere batboy #yandere batfam #answered asks #anon ask #luluramblings

195 notes · View notes

hard-core-super-star · 13 hours ago

Text

brought you together so nice [W.Maximoff + N.Romanoff]

pairing: dom!natasha romanoff x sub!reader x switch!wanda maximoff

summary: natasha takes care of you until wanda comes back. needless to say, the witch is more than happy about the arrangement you both came up with in her absence.

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DO NO INTERACT -> porn with very little plot but even more feelings; mommy + daddy kink; slightly more established dom/dub dynamics; a dash of pet play (as usual); bondage; gagging; soft domme nat + bratty wanda!!!!; vibrator use [R receiving]; praise + degradation + a dash of humiliation; hair pulling; spanking; aftercare

wordcount: 4.1k

a/n: well, well, well...guess who got too attached to another series? yup, me 😅 these two have taken up more of my mind than i originally thought so here is part three of this little series. i don't have a plan to make another full part, but i might mess around and write a few blurbs here and there. we'll see what happens. anyway, thank you for all your support, especially regarding this little series. i'm thinking of opening my requests back up until the start of the new year so keep an eye out for that ;) [commissions are still more than welcome, though!] okay, i'll stop rambling for now, hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

Natasha could be sweet when she wanted to.

That was the first thing you learned after agreeing to become her and Wanda's submissive.

The rules and details weren't too clear yet, the redhead promising to answer all your questions as soon as the Sokovian came back from her mission. Still, she did what she could to fill in the gaps of your knowledge, allowing you to ask her as many questions as you pleased before showing you, in great detail, what she meant.

Despite the cold exterior you'd learned to love, she was much softer with you than you'd ever imagined. Sure, she was still a mean domme at heart, but she wanted to show you heights of pleasure you'd never experienced before.

And she went to great lengths to guarantee it.

It quickly became clear to you how much she loved impact play. Even outside of play sessions, she would always come up behind you, landing a hard smack to your ass before pulling you into her arms. You didn't mind, even when she did it in front of the others.

(Although Tony did whistle at you guys once and promptly earned himself a punch to the stomach. He laughed it off but made sure to never tease the Widow about her behavior with you again.)

You knew there were a lot of things you didn't know or fully understand, but Natasha always seemed to find a way to make you feel more excited than nervous about it. It was almost funny how quickly her personality changed once she allowed you to see past her walls.

Sure, she was still a little mean and more than a little snarky (which is exactly how you liked her, if you were being honest) yet there was a softer, affectionate, side that started coming out more and more.

She told you it was simply because Wanda wasn't around and she wasn't allowed to "break you in" without her around. Maybe it was a silly excuse perfectly crafted to keep you on your toes, but you didn't really mind.

Well, except because you really missed Wanda.

Being without the witch was harder than you thought it would be, but the Widow kept you busy enough to forget the empty spot beside you in their bed.

Your bed.

That was the second thing Natasha made you learn.

Yes, you were technically an addition to their relationship, but you weren't an outsider. You never were.

That was the third thing you learned.

Both Natasha and Wanda had their eyes on you from the very beginning. They loved each other, and their relationship made them happier than they could put into words, and yet they always felt something was missing. A third energy to keep them in check. To stop them from getting too rough, too mean with each other. To help remember how to be soft after spending so much time fighting with the world.

It was...strange, but you couldn't deny what they meant to you. The attraction you felt toward them had always been there and after Wanda opened that door...well, let's just say there was no going back.

You didn't understand how real that was until now.

Because somehow, someway, after carrying guilt you didn't even need to have in the first place, you were here.

You were theirs.

You were waking up in their bed with Natasha's arms wrapped tight around your waist.

A shudder ran down your body as the redhead's lips met your bare shoulder, peppering kisses across the skin. "Morning, detka. Sleep well?"

"Yeah," you reply as a smile forms on your face. "You're a fantastic cuddler."

"Shut up," she mumbles. There's a clear lack of annoyance in her words despite her attempts at sounding tough. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Your grip on me begs to differ."

At your response, her hands move to grip your waist, her nails digging into your soft skin. The sensation makes you gasp, your back arching almost instantly. You can feel the redhead smiling against your skin. It hasn't been that long and she already knows your body better than you do.

"Sorry, were you saying something?" She says, taking advantage of your reactions to grind against your ass. "You seem a little distracted."

It's a bit of a cruel game but it's one she loves to play with you. Truth be told, she loves playing with you, period. You're so different from Wanda, so much more responsive, more honest about your constant neediness.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you mumble, not so subtly grinding back against her.

Just because you were slowly learning the rules regarding your place didn't mean you didn't love pushing Natasha's buttons whenever you could. Which really only happened in the mornings and during aftercare. Those were the only two moments when the older woman allowed herself to be soft with you, to let you see behind the walls she'd expertly put up to keep everyone out. Everyone except you and Wanda, it seems.

Her voice remains low, straddling the border between a tease and a warning. "Is my good girl trying to be a brat?"

Your heart skips a beat at her words. At the mention of being her good girl. Of being hers.

After the rough beginning your relationship had, you never thought you'd be let into her heart in any way. And yet here you are. You're her good girl, her kitten, her darling submissive.

"No..." You trail off, trying to decide whether to behave or push her buttons a little more. Ultimately, your desire to be a little shit wins out. "...Daddy."

Natasha chuckles behind you, her hands moving from your hips and toward your breasts. She gives them a soft squeeze as her thumbs tease your hardening nipples. "Oh, kotenok, you woke up cheeky this morning, huh? You know what mouthing off like that will earn you, right?"

You do know. She's told you many, many times before, usually while she's praising you for being so good for her and drawing out orgasm after orgasm from your overstimulated body.

However, she's never actually acted out any of her warnings. It's a good thing, you know that, and yet you can't stop yourself from wanting to see what it will feel like. To explore what that kind of submission will do to you.

"Yes, Daddy. I know."

She hums before going right back to kissing across your shoulders, nipping at your skin just to get you to arch into her teasing hands. "I see...you want to be punished, don't you? Want Daddy to remind you of your place until there's nothing else inside your mind?"

You're about to reply when you're interrupted by F.R.I.D.A.Y. "Miss Romanoff, Miss Maximoff has asked me to notify you of her return."

Your cheeks flush, even though the disembodied voice can't see what exactly you're up to this morning. At the very least, F.R.I.D.A.Y. is a lot less nosy than Jarvis ever was. Although, if you're being honest, you liked him better before he turned into a robot.

"I'm assuming she'll be at the Medbay for a while?" The Widow replies, her mind no doubt full of the things she'll do to you to pass the time.

"Yes, it seems she'll be there for the next half hour."

"Good. Thank you, Friday."

The AI doesn't reply and you can practically imagine her making a swift exit out of the room, leaving you to face whatever it is that the redhead has come up with.

"y/n..." Natasha purrs, her breath hot against your ear. "I have an idea. Why don't we give Mommy a nice surprise, hmm? Don't you want to be her pretty welcome back gift?"

You're not sure what being Wanda's "welcome back gift" will entail, but you can't deny your curiosity about it. Especially since the witch has no idea what you and her girlfriend have been up to. You have no doubt she has her suspicions, she is a mind reader after all, but it'll still be nice to surprise her.

You agree before you even know what you're doing, and Natasha wastes no time in springing into action.

In a matter of minutes, you go from lying comfortably under the covers to being spread out on your back, your limbs tied to each corner of the bed. You're exposed, vulnerable, and you love every second of it.

Of course, Natasha isn't satisfied with that. No, to top off the pretty sight you make, she places a deep, dark red ball gag between your lips. You shouldn't be surprised since, after all, you did ask for it.

"There we go," the redhead hums appreciatively, her eyes taking in the beautiful sight. "Now, just sit tight, okay, detka? I'll be right back."

You whine instantly, but she pays no mind to you, quickly making her way out of the bedroom and going to look for Wanda. You're not exactly happy about being left alone yet, there's nothing you can do. All you can do is throw your head back in frustration and wait for your lovers to return.

You're not sure how much time goes by, although there's no doubt in your mind that Natasha does her best to draw out their return just to mess with you, but eventually, they make their way back to you.

The sound of the door opening makes you practically vibrate with excitement, your hips wiggling from side to side without thinking.

"Well, would you look at that," Wanda says as she steps further into the room. "Looks like someone was having fun without me."

Natasha follows her in, standing behind her and wrapping her arms around her waist. There's something so domestic about the action that makes your heart clench.

"I had to get her ready for you, darling," the redhead replies as her chin finds the other woman's shoulder. "She looks good, doesn't she?"

"She sure does. I take it you worked out your issues?"

"We came to an...agreement, yes. I couldn't let you have all the fun."

Wanda chuckles, the corners of her mouth quirking up into a fond smile. There's no mistaking the fire in her eyes, though, the desire simmering below the surface. "And you said I was crazy for wanting her to join us."

The Widow grumbles, clearly not quite ready to admit her girlfriend was right. "You're still not off the hook, you let her believe you cheated on me."

"When are you going to let that go?"

"I'm not sure, maybe you should make it up to me."

Natasha's eyes remain on you but Wanda turns around, silencing her girlfriend's complaints with a fiery kiss. All you can do is watch, feeling left out and far too involved at the same time. You're slowly getting used to their competitive antics.

Their kisses turn desperate in nothing short of a few seconds, leaving you far too desperate and needy while you squirm around on the bed. They take their sweet time getting back to you, though, instead letting their hands wander over each other's bodies.

You'd love to complain but you're still gagged so talking is pretty much impossible. More than that...you can't say you're not loving the view. It makes you feel a little dirty, like you're watching an intimate scene you shouldn't be, and it brings a rush unlike anything you've ever felt before.

They know, because of course they know, and your obvious arousal only motivates them to tease you.

Natasha moves first, expert hands reaching for the hem of Wanda's shirt and lifting it over her head in an instant. "I missed you."

"Are you talking to me or my boobs?" The witch replies with a perfectly raised eyebrow.

"I'm talking to all of you."

"Nice save, 'Tasha."

"Shut up."

There's something comforting about the scene in front of you, even as your frustration builds. You've been with them before, but it's different this time. You can feel the change in energy, the easy chemistry that flows between all of you now that Natasha isn't trying to push you away.

"Come on, I think we've teased our good girl long enough," Wanda says, taking the redhead's hand and leading her toward the bed. "Isn't that right, sweetheart? You're feeling a little frustrated, hmm?"

You nod desperately in response, tugging at the rope that holds you down. Your actions only make both of your lovers chuckle.

"Look at her, she's drenched and we haven't gotten started yet," Natasha comments, her eyes trailing up and down your body like a predator assessing its prey.

"I'm guessing this means training's going well."

"She's a quick learner. A bit bratty sometimes, though."

The way they talk about you as if you're not a part of the conversation has you clenching around pure air. It doesn't help that the Widow is so accurate in her assessment of you. You love being submissive, being under their control, but you can't deny how much fun it is to disobey. To push against the boundaries she's set for you, not to defy her but to tease her. Maybe even test her a little.

It's far too fun.

"Is that right, sweetheart?" Wanda asks, even though your body language makes it clear how correct Natasha is. "I thought you liked being our good girl. Because if you don't, well...you know what happens to naughty girls, don't you?"

Of course you know. It was one of the first things the redhead taught you. Sure, the rules and terms weren't too fleshed out yet since Natasha had wanted her girlfriend to be a part of the whole exchange, but she'd gone over most things with you. Rewards, punishments, hard limits, all that stuff.

You're unable to tell the witch that, though, thanks to the gag in your mouth. Your incoherent mumbles seem to entertain her for a few seconds while Natasha sneaks off toward their closet.

Wanda's chuckle cuts through the air. Your attempts at convincing her you've been good clearly amuse her. "I know, baby, I know you like being good. Otherwise, Nat wouldn't be so attached to you."

"I'm not attached," the redhead grumbles.

A month ago, her words would have made your heart drop into your stomach. Now, though, you know she's only playing a part. She has no problem telling you how she feels outside of a scene, but when you're playing, when you're being their pet, she's right back to being mean. Right back to degrading you and humiliating you until you're riding the edge of pleasure and pain.

"Keep telling yourself that, darling."

"Oh, I will."

Their banter is borderline comforting. You've loved spending time with Natasha, but this, being with them and seeing their personalities come together, this is where you thrive.

Well, it's not like you're doing much. Then again, they like you most when you're like this. Vulnerable, at their mercy, and so obviously loving every second of it.

Wanda climbs onto bed with you, crawling over your body until she's hovering over you with a gentle smile that steals all your worries away. "'Tasha's such a liar, isn't she, sweetheart? It's okay, let her act like she's the big bad."

You want to laugh, but it's a little hard when she's leaning down to pepper kisses all over your face. The action is far softer than what you were expecting and it makes your heart soar.

You were ready for a rougher training session, for a trial run meant to show you what you had been missing in the witch's absence. But this? This is really good too.

Wanda continues her loving assault on your skin, trailing kisses down your jaw and toward your neck. You tilt your head back in response, earning a soft giggle muffled against your skin, as she kisses and nibbles all up and down your throat. There's no doubt in your mind that she's littering your skin with hickies and noticeable marks, but you find you really don't mind it.

The witch steals your attention long enough for Natasha to gather a few supplies before making her way over to you. You feel her set a few things down next to you, but you don't get to see what they are. Not that you really mind considering how busy your mind is.

"Stop hogging her attention, that's not very fair."

"It's not my fault you left her so fuzzy-headed. Poor girl didn't even stand a chance, huh?"

You shake your head, a few muffled whines making their way out of you.

Natasha chuckles as she shifts onto her knees next to you. Her hands find their way between you and Wanda's bodies, teasing your skin as she explores the territory she's spent the past few days claiming.

"Oh, please. This is nothing. You should've seen the state she was in last night."

The reminder makes you squirm in your restraints, trying to get closer to them to no avail. You know how desperate you look, how absolutely needy you are, but you can't find it in yourself to care. This is what you had been waiting for. To be completely theirs. To surrender to them and accept everything they were willing to give you. Sure, it was intimidating and yet it felt incredibly right.

"Are you trying to make me jealous?" Wanda responds, working her way down your body, expertly avoiding the areas where her girlfriend is touching you.

"You deserve it. Wasn't this your fantasy?"

"Maybe. It was hers first, though. Isn't that right, detka?"

The change in topic makes you blush. It shouldn't be surprising to hear that the witch had already known about your feelings for her but it's still a little embarrassing. At least she seems to enjoy it.

You nod, your movements slightly frantic and no doubt fueled by the feeling of her lips on your flushed skin. She takes her time dragging her lips up and down your inner thighs as Natasha teases your hardening nipples.

"Such a good little slut. I bet you're already so fuzzy. Just want your cunt played with and nothing else." The redhead distracts you with her words, leaving you completely unprepared for Wanda's continued assault.

You don't hear the thrumming sound of the vibrator coming to life, but you sure feel it against your sensitive clit. Your whole body shudders in response as your hips buck in a desperate attempt to escape the overwhelming sensation.

Your reaction makes the witch laugh and she leans down to press a few more kisses to your thighs. "There you go, that's what I like to see."

Her words feel more like humiliation than praise and yet you can't find it in yourself to care. Not when it feels so good that it borders on painful.

"Excuse you, we were having a little chat." Natasha's tease is coupled with a firm grip in your hair as she tilts your head toward her. "I'll have to train you if you don't fix that attention span, pet."

"Be nice, Nat, it's not her fault she likes me more."

"God, you're such a brat, Maximoff." Her free hand leaves your body to land a sharp smack against Wanda's ass. "I'll put you in your place too, if I have to."

The witch hums in response, very clearly pushing herself back against the redhead's hand. "You know I'd enjoy it."

Natasha spanks her again and the sight has you bucking your hips faster as you search for more pleasure. You let out a string of whines, already feeling yourself on the edge of an orgasm. It's a little embarrassing how quickly you're reaching your limit but in your defense, you've been worked up ever since you woke up. You were bound to lose from the beginning.

"Don't tell me you want to cum already, sweetheart? We've barely gotten started."

You want to defend yourself, but your attempts are instant failures. Natasha seems to get off on how pathetic you sound, though.

"It's alright, kitten, why don't you go ahead and cum for me? Mommy hasn't earned her reward just yet."

Wanda opens her mouth to object but she doesn't get very far since the redhead goes right back to spanking her.

You're not used to seeing the witch in a slightly more submissive position. She always seem to straddle the border between being fully in control and immersed below Natasha's dominance. This change of pace is more than welcome, though.

The vibrator gets pushed harder against your sensitive clit and the pressure sends you over the edge almost instantly. You don't get a chance to warn them, all you can do is give in to the sudden pleasure as your body trembles beneath them.

They're both distracted by the sight of your orgasm crashing into you so suddenly. So beautifully.

"What a good girl," Natasha murmurs appreciatively. "You could learn a thing or two from her, Wands."

"Whatever." You miss the way the witch rolls her eyes since your eyes are more than a little blurry and there's a soft ringing in your ears. "It won't be my fault when she forgets her place, Daddy."

That earns her another spank, but she's too busy moving the vibrator away from your drenched cunt to care. You whine softly at the loss of contact even though you feel far too sensitive to take much more.

Apparently, you look as out of it as you feel because the older women take a few moments to let you catch your breath.

Wanda's hands gently stroke up and down your legs to keep you grounded while Natasha shifts closer, her hands reaching out to undo the ballgag. "How are you feeling, kotenok? Do you want to keep going?"

Your throat's a little dry, but you manage to form a reply. "I'm okay. Just need to catch my breath."

The Widow nods before reaching over to grab the bottled water on the nightstand. She helps you take a few sips of water while Wanda continues to caress your skin, both giving you as much time as you need to recover. It's such a small thing and yet it's a reminder of why you're so attached to them. Why you need them more and more with every day that goes by.

Your relationship with them might have had a bit of a rough start, but you couldn't imagine a better outcome. Couldn't imagine two better people to surrender your heart to.

"Someone's in a romantic mood," Wanda pipes up with a soft smile.

Her words cause an instant response in you and you feel your face grow warmer by the second. "Why are you in my mind right now?"

"Because your thoughts about me are so loud," she replies almost instantly. "Don't look so embarrassed, detka, I think it's cute."

"Shut up," you mumble, momentarily forgetting where you are and what you're in the middle of doing.

Wanda's smile turns slightly dark and her hand comes down against your thigh before you can even think about what you did wrong. "Where'd your manners go, huh?"

The sensation makes you shiver, but Natasha reaches a hand out to stop the witch from smacking your thigh again. "Time out, darling. I don't think we're quite ready to keep going."

You want to argue with her and yet you make no real effort to. As much as you might want to keep going, you can't deny how overwhelming it all was...and how desperate you are for some cuddles.

"Sorry," you mumble.

Wanda instantly shushes you as she uses her magic to undo the restraints keeping you tied down. "Nonsense, you have nothing to apologize for."

The second your limbs are free, Natasha's hands are on you again. This time, though, she merely maneuvers you onto your side so she's able to slide in behind you. The second her arms wrap around your waist, your shoulders let go of the tension they've been holding.

Wanda wastes no time in joining the two of you, laying down in front of you and reaching up to play with your hair. "Just relax, we have all day to pick up where we left off."

"Don't rush her, little witch."

Natasha's words make you chuckle and you lean forward until you're practically buried in the witch's chest. "I'm okay, guys. I don't break easily."

A beat of silence goes by as they allow you to soak in the afterglow, in the feeling of their embrace.

But the Widow really can't help herself.

"Are you sure? Maybe we should test that out."

Her words are a tease, but none of you can deny your curiosity...or your arousal.

Needless to say, you spend most of the day tangled up in their bed.

Your bed.

With the two women who mean the absolute world to you.

#wandanat x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wandanat #wandanat smut #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #mommy wanda #avengers fanfiction #marvel fic #mcu imagine #wlw fic #writing

104 notes · View notes

rafelandia · 2 days ago

Note

Hwy can you wtite dad rafe x mom reader after giving birth to their daughter how did the first time (s€x) went or something like that, you can do what you want.

I feel like Rafe is hesitant to initiate once they get cleared by the doctor. He wants to so fucking bad but these last few weeks had been rough and he knows Y/N hasn’t had the best time. He unintentionally makes the drive home awkward and quiet, not wanting to bring it up until she does.

It probably starts out slow and on a whim, maybe she goes to check on Rafe in the middle of the night because he’d been out of bed a bit longer than he normally is. She finds him in the kitchen cleaning a bottle and there’s just something about the way the moonlight is hitting his broad chest and toned arms that reignites the flame deep in her tummy. Rafe would scoop her up and sit her on the cool, marble countertops of their kitchen and lazily plants warm and wet kisses down her neck and chest. He thinks it’s finally happening and right when his fingers navigate their way through her sleep shorts and hover over her sweet heat, they’re interrupted by a piercing cry of their newborn that jolts them out of the passionate state of longing they were in.

The next time, she’s nervous. She knows her body has changed and while she is extremely confident that Rafe could care less because she’d given him the most precious gift in the world, it’s a personal hurdle that she hasn’t quite been able to jump. She eventually agrees after being begged for what felt like the millionth time to let Rafe eat her out. He takes his time, refamiliarizing himself with her pussy and relishing the taste that he’d missed so much. Rafe’s got some stubble now due to late nights and exhaustion, which only enhances the sensation Y/N feels while he massages her clit with his tongue. The build up is intense and it doesn’t take long before her back arches up from the plush mattress they share when Rafe gently pumps one of his fingers inside of her and she’s seeing stars.

The rekindling of their sex life makes them feel young again — they find themselves sneaking away during any free time they have when baby girl is asleep. She’ll sit on his face while he devours her, and she’s leaning back so she can haphazardly stroke his thick cock. She’s getting more comfortable and gaining her confidence back — Rafe knows it won’t be long until she’s begging him to fuck the daylights out of her.

The first time they actually have sex is probably on a whim too — no elaborate gesture like flower petals on the bed and no meticulously planned “massage” that they both knew what would really end up going down. Rafe and Y/N are probably just in the hot tub after enjoying some wine at dinner and what starts as slow, drunken kisses turns into her on top of him and his hands shoved down the back of her swimsuit. He’s rubbing circles on her ass while she’s sucking on his neck, fingers moving dangerously close to her sweet spot. She’s putty in his hands and it’s not long before he’s teasing her entrance with the tip of his cock, waiting in agony for her to make the next move. The look in both of their eyes is unmistakably lust-ridden as she slowly sinks down into him. Rafe brushes her hair out of her face with a wet hand and tells her that she’s beautiful and to go as slow as she needs to, though he knows he’s on the brink of cumming just from the way the jets are swaying her body back and forth against him.

It would start agonizingly slow, Y/N having to stretch herself to fit all of him inside. He jumps the gun and bucks his hips on instinct. She tenses up at the sharp movement and he kisses the swell of her exposed breast before muttering a breathy, “Sorry, baby,” against her skin. Only a few minutes of rocking back and forth against him pass before they’re both out of air and panting heavily in each other’s ear. Rafe takes over for the last little bit, bouncing her up and down on his length. He tells her he’s close and is a bit embarrassed by it, but as her core rocks against the trail of hair beneath his navel and he knows she’s not far behind him. He gets it out of her when he starts talking, moaning into her neck about how much he missed fucking her pussy and how good it feels to have her again after what felt like centuries. Her body convulses as she comes undone, making her clench around his cock. That was all he needed to finish, though he makes sure to pull out before cumming into the water. They lay there for a bit, Y/N on top of him while she regains her strength. Swimsuits are abandoned in the hot tub when they head up for a shower and some sleep, knowing the house keepers will find them in the morning. Neither of them really seem to care.

Rafe is deeply unserious so he probably says something stupid like, “We are so back,” and playfully slaps her naked bum as she makes her way up the stairs and into bed. He’s missed his girl and the feeling he gets when he sees her with their daughter makes him want to put another baby in her and do it all over again. He knows it’s ridiculous to want another so soon — it’s more of a newly developed breeding kink than anything. But he’ll wait patiently until the time comes.

Little did he know.

#rafe cameron one shot #dad rafe #dad!rafe #dad!rafe x reader #dad!Rafe Cameron smut #dad!Rafe smut #dad!rafe x pregnant!reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #asks

75 notes · View notes

nvtstvrns · 22 hours ago

Text

it won’t hurt - Chris Sturniolo

Bsf!chris, fem!reader, smut

In which: you get in a fight with Chris and you both go your separate ways, until he comes knocking on your door begging to let him inside.

Contains: smut, unprotected p in v, best friends, make up sex, no established relationship, pet names (ma, pretty girl, sweetheart, etc)

Authors note: I’m bored and idk where this idea came from. Enjoy! Divider creds @enchanthings and @xurengu0

It was almost 10pm and I hadn’t gotten a single message from Chris after our argument earlier, no messages in general. I decided to finally let it go and just get in the shower. I was sore from practice and I wanted to relax my muscles, that’s when I heard my phone ring. I was just unbuttoning my pants. I pick up my phone. It was Chris.

I roll my eyes but I end up answering it. “What?” I say when I answer the phone.

“Damn. Couldn’t be nicer.” He says. “Can you let me in please?” He asks. I furrow my eyebrows. What does he mean let him in.

“Chris what do you mean? Are you seriously at the front door right now?” I ask buttoning my pants back up and turning off the shower. It was raining really hard out and he was probably soaked because he definitely did not drive here.

“Yeah I am. I felt bad for fighting with you earlier and I wanted to apologize.” He says. My eyes light up. I knew he felt bad for the fight earlier.

“Oh. Ok I’m coming.” I say opening the bathroom door and walking down the steps to the front door. He was standing there completely soaked from the rain. I look him up and down.

“Hey…come inside.” I say opening the door fully so he can come inside. “I’m sorry for how I acted earlier. I was being a selfish bitch and you had every right to call me that.” I say sitting on a nearby chair.

“no, I’m sorry for calling you that, you aren’t a selfish bitch I said that in the heat of the moment.” He claims.

After we apologize to each other he tries sitting down but I don’t let him.

“I think you might have some clothes left from the last time you were over here, I can get those for you.” I note before I walk upstairs and get the clothes for him. When I come back down he’s walking around and looking for food in the fridge. I hand him the clothes.

“Is there any way I could take a shower? I don’t like the feeling of the rain.” He says tugging on his clothes.

“Yeah, I was just about to take one but you can take one instead.” I say walking up the stairs with him following behind me. “Oh, y/n you can join me if you want.” He says shrugging as we reach the bathroom. My face turns red and I turn to face him.

“Uh, no it’s okay, you can shower by yourself Chris.” I giggle. He starts taking off his pants.

“Come on, it’s fine, we’re best friends anyway, we used to take baths together.” He says pulling his hoodie over his head.

“Yeah, Chris when we were fucking eight, not as adults.” I say sitting on the counter. Before he takes off his underwear he gets in the shower, throwing them over the top of the curtain rod.

“Oh come on, I’ll keep my hands and eyes to myself, it won’t hurt.” He says peeking out of the shower curtain. “It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before.”

“Chris fine I’m getting in.” I mutter pulling off my clothes. “This is weird.”

I step inside the shower and he immediately breaks his word. His eyes are on me immediately. I cover myself up self consciously. He grabs my arms and puts them down. “Sweetheart, don’t cover yourself you’re fucking beautiful.” He says staring into my eyes.

I burst into laughter. “Okay Chris, I’m beautiful.” I say through my laughs.

“I’m being serious pretty girl….” He says softly, his left hand trailing up my side slowly. I look down at his hand and then back up at him. “Chris…you broke your word, you didn’t keep your eyes or hands to yourself.” I note feeling my legs start to go numb.

Before I know it my mouth is gravitating towards his and we’re kissing in the shower. Kissing my best friend in the shower.

My hands attach to his shoulders and I jump up wrapping my legs around his waist. He pushes me against the wall and leaves sloppy kisses all over my chest face and neck. “God you’re perfect ma.”

Soon enough we’re out of the shower and in my bed his body hovering over mine as he kisses me deeply. His hands roam my whole body leaving me feel like I’m on fire. I’m ready for him. More than ready for him.

“Chris…Chris I want you…please I want you.” I say quietly, rolling my hips under him.

“Mmm you want me real bad ma?” He says his hand reaching in between our bodies as he rubs my clit.

“Oh my god, Chris, please…more.” I say. He finally complies and he pushes into me slowly. I bite my lip and furrow my eyebrows together.

The deeper he goes the more vocal I am. His tip brushes against my cervix just right and his hand stimulates my clit. He has too much experience on how to make a girl feel good. My legs start shaking and I lift my torso up hugging him tightly.

“God ma, you’re clenchin’ around me so perfectly, you’re so perfect baby.” He says as I feel the knot in my stomach get tighter and tighter. When it finally releases I arch my back and he holds me tight against him as my body trembles.

“Shh I gotcha ma.” He says as I whimper into his shoulder from the intense orgasm.

When I finally come down he’s laying next to me with his arm draped over my waist. “You really are perfect pretty girl.” He says quietly. All I could think about in the moment was how I just fucked my best friend.

“You really think I’m perfect?” I ask quietly turning to face him.

“Look at you! You’re perfect, your body, your face, your personality…I just can’t get enough of you…I’ve wanted to do this with you for years.”

My eyes go wide and I smile a little bit. “You know I’ve liked you for a long time Chris…and tonight was perfect…”

I don’t really like this one, but hopefully you do 🤷‍♀️

#christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #p links #sturniolo p links #Christopher Sturniolo smut

82 notes · View notes

abbysimsfun · 3 days ago

Text

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 91 (Conrad's Strange Trip)

cw: drinking, ingesting a mind-altering substance

Conrad pulled his cruiser through the gates of Bella Goth's estate in Cavalier Cove. The coastal mansion gave little indication of the paranormal-obsessed inhabitant who owned the property, but Conrad still always felt a chill when he walked through the front door.

Bella swore the house wasn't haunted. Conrad had never seen a ghost so he had to take her word for it, but the home did have two new permanent residents since he and Heather had last visited with the kids. In addition to Alexander and Lydia's newborn son, Jagger, Bella had welcomed a new pet.

"She's a gift from Grimmie. He's off reaping so often, but this crow can travel well enough to send messages between us when we're apart."

"She's beautiful, Mrs. Goth. But don't you worry about things like...bird flu? Especially with a newborn around."

"You don't really think I'd endanger Alex and Lydia's son, do you? My own grandson! Crows are among the most hygienic of all birds, you know. And she's a great little mimic. Watch."

The crow jumped from her wooden pedestal and onto Bella's hand. She spoke a few words in basic Simlish, waiting for her new pet to croak back, 'Nay-doo.'

"What's her name?"

"I haven't decided yet. Do you have any ideas? I thought Grimbella was nice, but Grimmie says we shouldn't name her after ourselves."

Conrad broke a smile across his tense cheeks. "I can't help you, Mrs. Goth. I didn't even name my dog. And, Solomon Wolff, my first partner back in San Myshuno, named him after me."

Bella shrugged with a gentle smile for Conrad and her crow. "I'll sleep on it. Maybe her name will come to me in a dream, or maybe Solomon Wolff will tell me what her name is."

(Surprise! Thank you @deardiaryts4 for making this headcanon canon with me! These two helped bust a puppy mill together as young officers, and Conrad ended up raising one of the pups who followed him back to their cruiser. Solo called him Gord because he was attached to Officer Gordon, and the name stuck. How Bella exists separately and prominently in overlapping storylines both totally makes sense and is outrageous but it need not be explained right now. Just enjoy the ride! Also, taking suggestions to name that crow! Grimbella isn't officially off the table, either.)

Conrad cleared his throat. "River dropped by and told me to come see you. But...I don't really know what I need to talk about."

"Conrad, you look tired." The words were accusatory, but there was only concern in her voice. "Let me mix you a drink. Text Heather, let her know I insisted you stay a while to relax. I'll watch your kids soon to make it up to her. Sometime when you're working late again."

"It's been a long few months," he admitted, following her to the long wooden bar in the dining room. "I know everyone's worried about me."

"So why won't you talk to anyone about it?"

He wavered. "Because sometimes the less people know, the safer they are. I shouldn't talk to you about this, especially since I can't figure out how to tell Heather, but if I don't talk to someone I might lose my damn mind...Have you ever heard of Los Tigres de Selva?"

She nodded. "My grandmother, Enriqueta, was from Selvadorada, but her family got her to Sunset Valley when she was small. They didn't want her to stay because of the cartels."

"I walked away from a case involving them today."

"They're in our ports?"

"They don't smuggle much through here. Probably because our ports are jammed with ice too many months of the year and it's not profitable, but this case...it's sorta personal."

"If you keep pursuing the case, will your family be in danger? You've told everyone you were handling it."

"I've tried. But last night Heather noticed how hard it's been to keep the case separate from everything else, and after River visited today I realized what it's been doing to me."

"This doesn't have anything to do with the woman Heather saw sneaking around outside your house before your daughter was born, does it?"

"She told you about that?"

"No, Cassandra told me because she wanted me and her brothers to be careful if there were any dangerous people lurking around town. And it sounds like there were...Are they still?"

"I really hope not."

Bella nodded. "So they are."

"Why do I always forget you spent a bit of time working as a secret agent?"

"Because they spent more time trying to figure me out than letting me do my job so I rarely talk about it. When Dex came along I said, 'Screw it.' Nothing's more important than family, and that's been my life since I quit."

"Well, you got more out of me than anyone else without much effort, so just know you've still got it."

"I don't know all your secrets, Conrad. I still don't know why you kept it from Heather, but my gut says you're ashamed of something."

"I feel shame about my past. And I feel shame because I should have told her months ago and I kept putting it off. I should have told her years ago. It just got harder and harder to say anything because no matter what, it'll look like I didn't tell her because I have something to hide."

"Do you?"

"There's a lot she doesn't know. There's a lot nobody knows, after my father died."

"Secrets are important to keep sometimes, and I understand wanting to keep her safe if the truth puts her in danger, but you know Heather. She likes honesty."

Conrad stared at the empty glass on the bar. "Heather's the love of my life. I can't lose her because I made stupid choices until my dad bailed me out with what amounted to his dying breath."

Bella thought quietly for a moment, taking a seat at the empty barstool. "You're a fascinating man, Conrad Gordon. Your father would be proud to see what you've made of yourself despite any mistakes of your youth, but something is causing you to go backward. I could press and I'm quite sure you'd tell me everything because you clearly need to talk about it, but..."

"But if I tell you before I tell Heather, I'm an even bigger ass than I've been. And still, knowing that, it doesn't make me want to run home and tell her."

"You know who might be able to provide better guidance than anyone who lacks the hindsight of death? The mentors."

He shook his head with snide laughter. "How did I know you were going to suggest travelling? Mrs. Goth, I have to work in the morning."

"And you know it only takes a few minutes!"

Maybe it was the liquid courage, but Conrad found himself agreeing and followed Bella upstairs. The seance table had been moved into their upstairs hall, with the old attic room turned into a nursery for Alex and Lydia's newborn son.

Conrad took a seat across from Bella, letting her lead just like last time. She chanted her Omiscan summons, with Conrad's palms open on the round wooden table draped in purple and gold cloth. A blue flame flickered above their heads, and Conrad was transported to the Realm of the Dead. He knew Bella wouldn't pull him out prematurely, so he walked cautiously toward the flame.

When he'd returned, he asked how long he'd been gone. A cold sweat broke on the back of his neck.

"You were gone much longer than usual - about twenty minutes. What did you see?"

"I need a drink, Mrs. Goth. The strongest drink you know how to mix."

"Don't you work in the morning?" she countered, but his pained expression gave Bella pause. "I know one drink. It clears your mind of all the jumbled thoughts you can't take with you...when you pass on. Only the most important thoughts and memories remain while you're in this state. But I can't let you drive home if I make it for you."

"Mrs. Goth, what I just saw...I don't understand it. If it'll unscramble my thoughts, I..."

"You can stay here for the night, and I'll tell Heather you helped me with a computer virus."

"I thought I wasn't supposed to be lying to Heather."

"Do you want to tell her you're going to spend the next few hours living as a ghost?"

"Living as a what? Are you going to...kill me?"

"Of course not! Think of it a bit like, oh, I don't know, ayahuasca. It's an out-of-body experience, but it can be mentally transformative! It helps give perspective on the things that really matter to us when our world is clouded with too much fear and worry. It's made with gin and crushed death flower petals, but it won't leave you hungover. Once the effects wear off you'll be fine to head to work tomorrow morning."

They headed back downstairs and he called Heather. Because he was with Bella, who they'd come to trust like family, she made no complaint over him taking a night to combat his stress by getting stuck into a computer problem. Though guilt pecked a hole in his stomach, they exchanged their usual 'I love you' before he hung up. Bella mixed him another cocktail - this one bright green and glowing with spectral gases. "When you travelled for twenty minutes, you must have been gone for close to a year..."

"Almost exactly twelve months."

"What could the mentors have wanted to show you for a whole year?"

"I didn't meet any mentors, other than the professors I already had. I relived my first year of college."

"Fascinating! I've heard of this but never experienced it. I used to hope the mentors could show me where I went when I disappeared and lost all memory of my time away. The mentors let people relive the past if they have an opportunity to make amends for something or if they're sending a warning, so maybe my time away was just boring and uneventful."

"Seems pretty unlikely with you, Mrs. Goth."

As she spoke, Conrad sipped the glowing green cocktail. When he'd finished his drink, he looked down. The empty glass appeared to float on thin air, and he could scarcely make out the faint lines marking his fingertips. He really was a ghost.

Bewildered, he set down the glass on the bar and turned around. Bella watched him with excitement, trying to read his face for a reaction. "Jump-scare!" he shouted, and Bella gasped.

"You're getting better at that," she said with a laugh.

"Jump-scaring feels easier without a body to drag around. But I can't let Heather and the kids see me like this. How long does it last?"

"The sofa's all yours until you've sobered up, and you'll be back to normal by then. But tell me: who are you thinking about right now?"

"Heather and the kids, like always."

Bella smiled. "Good. That's the most important thing. Now go ahead, possess some of the furniture and get this out of your system. I know you want to."

He knew it was time to tell Heather the truth, but tonight, his mind - and body - wasn't right for such a serious conversation. After Bella and her family had gone to bed upstairs, he floated around the house with the cats tailing his every move. Finding the piano open and unattended, he grinned mischievously. Bella was right. He felt an uncontrollable urge to possess the sturdy instrument and jumped inside.

Possessing furniture was a lot harder than it looked, with the treble strings catching on his broad shoulders each time he floated upward. Still, he'd rather possess a grand piano than a litter box.

He had his fun before he passed out on the sofa. For a few hours, he had practically forgotten Ximena's name. But as morning came, he woke remembering what Bella had said about the mentors. He thought finding Rafa would make amends for his past, but it had only caused trouble and he still couldn't find him.

As Conrad headed to work, he wracked his brain trying to figure out what the mentors had wanted him to notice. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: Thursday's flashback will let us all see what Conrad saw!

NOTE 2: Not the most responsible night for ol' Conrad, but the stress is still there despite telling Ximena to take a hike. Between fearing her and knowing Heather needs to know the truth but fearing how that conversation will go, dude's cracking! We may judge. Also I wasn't entirely positive what the drink would do before I had Bella make it for him. I had an inkling but didn't look it up, so this was technically an unplanned night of dropped responsibilities for Conrad, who's built a very responsible rep!

#sims 4 #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 screenshots #sims 4 legacy #sims in bloom #ts4 #ts4 gameplay #ts4 legacy #ts4 screenshots #sims 4 story #ts4 story #legacy challenge #sims legacy #ts4 legacy challenge #gen 2 #brindleton bay #bella goth #reapers rewards

66 notes · View notes

goatunderthebridge · 17 hours ago

Text

Everyone knew that Tendou ran cold. He'd stick his hands up the other boys' shirts when they weren't being careful, chilling them to the core as he laughed. He'd even managed to convince Goshiki for a couple months that he was cold because he was a lizard person, needing to warm in the sun lest he freeze completely and die. When Shirabu saw Goshiki worry about Tendou in the winter, he knew it was time to explain that that was absolutely not the case. And it was the truth that Tendou didn't mind being cold; he had never considered himself the proper, warm kind of person anyway so what difference did it make that his body temperature acted the same way?

That was until he felt how warm Ushijima's hands were and how he flinched every time they touched.

From that moment on, Tendou began to take precautions against his coldness. He took boiling hot showers, drank hot beverages as much as he could, ate the spiciest foods, and began to wear gloves.

Ushijima didn't understand the changes. He didn't like the taste of the foods on Tendou's tongue when they kissed and he missed feeling the calluses on his hands. He frowned as Tendou grabbed his hand with his gloved one, swinging their arms once enjoined.

He notices the frown on Ushijima's face and leans closer to him. "Eh? What's wrong?"

Ushijima squeezes his gloves hand, replying, "I do not like these gloves."

Tendou hums, pulling his hand back. He hadn't really thought about how Ushijima would react to the material of the gloves. Maybe these ones were too irritable for him? He made a mental note to buy a softer pair that Ushijima would prefer.

"Sorry bud, I'll get a new pair later today-"

Ushijima grabs his hand again. Tendou's eyes widen in surprise as he watches Ushijima pull the glove off his hand and intertwine their fingers, immediately pocketing the glove before Tendou can protest.

"Better." Ushijima asserts, nodding to himself.

Tendou blinks rapidly, attempting to pull his hand back despite enjoying how warm Ushijima's hand was. Ushijima holds on though, refusing to let go and watches curiously as Tendou pulls their hands towards him.

"No, bud, you don't have to hold my hands when they're so cold! You're gonna turn into ice-"

Ushijima furrows his brows, "I do not think that is possible."

Tendou almost laughs but remains strong, adamant to make Ushijima understand. "No, no, I mean I don't want to make you feel cold."

Ushijima seems to think about this for a second. Tendou takes that as confirmation that he is indeed too cold for him and tries to pull his hand back. But Ushijima tightens his grip and pulls their enjoined hands back towards him.

"I have never been cold," Ushijima mumbles, running his other hand's thumb across Tendou's knuckles and sending a bloom of warmth across them, "I like that you cool me down."

With that, Ushijima raises their hands to his lips, pressing them firmly against the back of Tendou's hand. He leaves a warm imprint on it that Tendou relishes, squeezing his hand in response.

"I like that you warm me up." He replies before leaning fully into Ushijima and pressing their lips softly together, cold melting into warmth.

Tendou had almost forgotten that Ushijima ran hot. But it shouldn't have come as a surprise that, when it came to the two of them, they often found that what they had missed all of their lives could always be found in the other.

#another small story hehe #this slipped out of the story i'm currently writing for fukutora bc i missed ushiten whoops #ushijima would absolutely run hot - i think tendou is either always cold or fluctuates wildly between the two #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#hq #ushiten #haikyuu ships #tendou satori #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima x tendou #haikyuu fanfiction

53 notes · View notes

m00nl1ghts1vt · 3 days ago

Text

City of Love III - Matt Sturniolo

Requested by anon I II Parings - neighbor!Matt x fem!Reader Summary - Even though your confession leaves Matt uneasy, he still invites you to dinner at his place, that's only if you cook, of course. Warnings - strong language, fluff, W/c - 3208 A/n - Sorry for the wait, I was debating on continuing because part two didn't get that much love, but I really like the concept of City of Love 🥲 Not sure how many parts I'll be doing yet. Enjoy! Masterlist Top Liked - Pierced II Most Recent - Mama Request & Asks are always open

Opening the drapes, you were greeted by warm sunlight beaming through and lighting up the room. You made yourself useful this morning, going for a jog, and finishing your morning routine, even though you woke up around noon. The sequence of events from the night before made sleep almost impossible for you. You tossed and turned for a while, the image of Matt’s face engraved into your brain. Deciding to distract yourself, you stayed up late, unpacking the rest of your belongings, and blaring your go-to playlist throughout the house. The night ended with everything unpacked and you passed out on the fuzzy rug in your living room.

Not being able to shake the harsh feeling of Matt’s pained expression, going for a jog was your only escape so, that’s what you did as soon as you finished your breakfast. Little did you know, Matt and his brothers would be arriving at their house right as you’re ending your morning jog. Plastic bags wrapped around his fingers as he shuts the car door, his eyes land on you, quickly followed by his two look-a-like’s. You plaster an awkward smile on your face, waving, and jogging past them, not wanting to be held up by any more uncomfortable conversations. The AirPods in your ears and beads of sweat dripping down your face being the main indicator you weren’t up for chatting. You didn’t dare to look over your shoulder, entering your house, and heading straight for the shower.

After opening almost every curtain in your house, letting in as much natural sunlight as possible, you go downstairs to your living room. The only tv you had was in the living room and your couches were still in shipment. You take a seat on your fuzzy rug, turn on your tv, and scroll through Netflix. Once you finally land on something that sparks your interest, your phone dings. Quickly selecting the movie and tapping your screen, you see it’s a text from Matt.

A toothless smile pulls at your lips. Maybe Matt wasn’t thrown off by your confession like you thought he was. If roles were reversed, him telling you that he just got out of a serious relationship months prior, you would cut all ties right then and there. In all honesty, if your past relationship hadn’t ended so badly, you would still be in Seattle, in contact with him. You couldn’t blame Matt for how he felt about the recent revelation, but you certainly did blame yourself for letting it slip too soon. Something about Matt made you want more of him every time he left, and the last few nights you had been restraining yourself from walking next door to talk to him. Every conversation was light and easy-going, making you feel like you two had known each other for a lifetime. You weren’t much of a talker so feeling comfortable around him had you shook for words, leaving you wondering how much the bond meant to him. It meant the world to you.

Even though you knew leaving Seattle was the right idea, you couldn’t help but feel homesick, missing your friends and family. Matt had a special way of making you forget about all of when he was around. You still made sure to keep in contact with your loved ones back in Seattle, nightly calls to your best friends and parenting showed them how much you really liked him. It had only been a week, and you couldn’t shut up about him

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

You spend a couple hours at Target, picking up numerous things for your house, and ingredients for dinner. You decided on your classic ‘Marry Me Chicken’ - mainly because it was the first dish you were ever taught, and you had mastered it by now - you wanted to impress Matt and his brothers. First impressions were everything to you. Even if things might’ve been too far gone with Matt, you at least wanted to knock him off his feet with your cooking skills.

Your arms stacked with plastic grocery bags; you stumble up to his front door. Struggling to get a hand up, the front door flies open, “Y/n! Matt, Y/n’s here!” One of Matt’s lookalike’s scoop bags out of your hands, you couldn’t tell if it was Nick or Chris, but you at least knew their names. You watch as he nods his head for you to follow him. Stepping into their house, you kick off your shoes out of respect even though he still has his on his feet. He yells, “Matt, get your ass in here!” just as Matt rushes around the corner, locking eyes with you. His face quickly turns a light shade of pink and a smile pulls at his lips, “hey.”

You could’ve sworn his flustered expression was contagious by the way your face matches his almost immediately, but you try to play it off, forcing a toothless smile, "hi."

Matt reaches for the grocery bags that are still weighing you down and his brother snorts at the interaction, “wow oh- kay.” His comment makes Matt’s face twist in embarrassment and irritation, “this is my brother, Nick.” Matt collects the rest of the groceries and sets them on the island, “the loud one.”

“I think we’re all pretty loud Matt,” Nick shoots back sarcastically and turns his attention, “I prefer ‘the gay one’ in case you were wondering.”

You let out a little giggle, “I’ll keep that in mind.” Making your way to the islands to help Matt unload the groceries. His gaze is stuck on you as he carelessly sets the tomatoes on the counter, only noticing they’re rolling off when it’s too late to catch them. “Matt!” you exclaim, a little too loud for your own liking, “you’re gonna bruise my tomatoes!”

“Shit, sorry!” He quickly crouches down to pick them up before turning the knob on the sink and running them under cold water. You make your way to him, “sorry,” grabbing the tomatoes to inspect it, “a bruised tomato makes a shitty sauce.” After deciding it’s okay, you look up to see Matt’s eyes still glued on you, “I’ll be more careful next time.”

You watch as he presses his lips in a thin line, attempting to hold back the grin that’s trying to break through. Matching his energy, you playfully furrow your eyebrows at him, “you should be. How am I gonna show off my killer cooking skills when you’re damaging the most important ingredient?”

He cracks a smile, “you haven’t even told me what you were making yet. How am I supposed to know it’s the most important ingredient?” You let out a laugh, being able to go back and forth with him was something you loved. It’s like all the momentary awkwardness from the series of events the night before didn’t matter. It disappeared for the time being, but your intuition told you it’d be brought back up later in the night.

“Marry me chicken,” you tell him. Matt raises an eyebrow, “it was the first recipe I learned,” you deadpan, not wanting him to get the wrong idea of the title. You didn’t make up the name for the recipe, and you had no idea if you were preparing this dinner as Matts friend or as his situationship that lives next door.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

“Okay, now the heavy cream,” you hold your hand out. Matt takes notion, handing you the carton of heavy whipping cream almost immediately., making you nod to him as a way of saying thank you. Matt had been a big help in the kitchen all night. He handed all the ingredients to you as you needed them, making small talk to keep you company while his brothers watched a movie in the living room. You step away from the stove, wiping your hands on a kitchen towel nearby, and leaning against the opposite counter from Matt.

“So,” he stretches out, crossing his arms over his chest, “about last night.” You shift awkwardly, not wanting to bring the conversation up, but you knew it had to be done. Your intuition was dead on. At this point the topic was the elephant in the room, like a big boulder sitting in the middle of the kitchen that you and Matt had to constantly shuffle around. IYou watch as he clears his throat, his eyes darting from your lips to your eyes, “I asked too many questions.” You shake your head at him, “questions are good. I don’t mind,” you ramble like an idiot, mentally face palming yourself. Talking about your ex made you nervous, you didn’t want to say or do anything that made Matt distance himself.

An anxious chuckle falls from his lips, “maybe I made some assumptions too soon,” he states before pinning his bottom lip between his teeth, “I really like you. I don’t want you to think I’m not into you for any reason.”

His words take you by surprise, and you open your mouth to speak, “finally being straightforward,” you poke at him. Matt being so to the point, telling you how he felt about the situation, was new. The little time you had known him, you always found yourself searching for answers without actually asking questions. Maybe it was because he was too interesting to you. He could tell you his whole life story, and you’d still want to know more. A smile creeps onto Matt’s face, “figured I’d try something new,” he jokes, keeping the same playful tone as you. The butterflies in your stomach dance and your face heats up a bright shade of red, “well I’m glad you told me 'cause I definitely thought you hated me after last night. I snapped on you, I’m sorry. I felt really bad afterwards.”

Matt scrunches his face, shaking his head, “don’t apologize. The attitude was on point,” he tells you, holding his fingers up to form an okay sign. You giggle, “you like ‘em a lil spicy, huh?”

Matt snorts, letting a small laugh escape his lips, “only the kind of spice you have.” He lets his face contort, cringing from his own words, “sorry, that was too much,” making you burst into laughter. You double over holding your stomach, “no, that was cute - a little cheesy - but cute.” Your infectious laugh brings a bright smile too his face and he quickly joins in with you, “cheesy pick-up lines are a given with me, just to let you know.”

“At least I’ll get a good laugh every day,” you coo back at him, running a hand through your hair before pushing yourself off the counter and approaching the stove that he’s standing next to. You stir the sauce gently and bring the spoon up to your mouth for a taste test, “yeah, I’m a chef. Let Gordon Ramsey know I’m coming for his spot!” you exclaim before taking another spoonful for Matt. Blowing on it a few times, you cup your hand under the spoon as you guide it to his lips. Matt locks his eyes on your, taking a slow slurp from the spoon. The intensity of his gaze makes you want to break eye contact and hide your face like the true shy girl you are, but his piercing blue orbs are too strong to let you look away, keeping you in a trance as your face lights up and goosebumps form on your arms.

Your eyes widen a bit, but you quickly try to play it off, relaxing your face as you pull the spoon away. “Wow, that’s really good. Somebody needs to put you on top chef,” he jokes, clearly not picking up on the effect he had on you. Lust swirls around in your gut, making the words struggle to get out of your throat, “th-that good?”

“Oh yea,” he confirms before plastering a kool aid like smile across his lips. “I’m really impressed. You're gonna have to cook for me more often,” he tells you, inching so close that you can feel his body heat radiating off you. It was clear by now Matt had a certain effect on you that nobody has ever had before. Little things like Matt holding eye contact or forcing proximity between you two made you wonder if he knew about the butterflies he placed in your stomach every time he spoke to you or accidentally brushed his arm against yours. You felt like a seventh grade girl obsessing over her first crush, except you were a grown woman crushing on the boy next door.

Matt knew exactly what he was doing. Being the gentleman he truly was, half the time he didn’t act on his impulsive behaviors. If it was up to him, he’d have you all to himself, telling you how much he really cared about you. Matt felt the same way about you as you did about him. The past relationships and random hook ups you two had weren’t anything compared to this weeklong bond you formed. As pathetic as it sounds, the connection had Matt in a chokehold and you in a death grip, not letting either of you go, and only leaving you both wanting more each time one of you pull away.

After last night, he went home and talked to his brothers about you just like he had been doing every night since the first interaction. Matt was worried something fierce about you exposing the fact you were four months fresh from a three year long relationship. He feared your ex was still in the picture, that he would text you any moment and you’d be on your way back to Seattle. Nick and Chris feeding him comments along the lines of - “so what, man? Go get some ass. You haven’t been laid in months, it’s starting to scare me,” and “you barely even know the girl. Stop worrying about her ex,” but when his bothered expression didn’t budge from his face, his brothers quickly took notice, “holy shit! You like her?!” Chris teases him immediately and Nick balances it out by saying, “leave him alone, Chris. He barely likes anyone.”

If Matt was being completely honest, he was just waiting for the moment that provided the right space and opportunity to tell you - and show you - how he really felt. When you passed by him on your morning jog, he could feel the vibes were off. Unknowingly being in tune to your energy already, negativity was practically oozing out of you, and Matt took notice right away. The torn expression on your face mixed with beads of sweat dripping from your brow, Matt felt horrible for how he reacted the night before. He had to come up with a plan to get you in the same room as him again, and once he remembered how much you loved to cook, he decided to test the waters. Luckily for him, it was working out perfectly.

“Just have to drain the pasta,” you announce before covering your hands in oven mitts and picking up the pot full of boiling hot penne noodles. Carefully taking a step back, your body comes to a halt as you crash into Matt, who didn’t take cue that you were moving with caution. The hot water splashes, coating your oven mitts, and you jut your body outward, hissing from the contact. Mentally praising yourself for using the mitts, your hands would be covered in burns if you hadn’t.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Matt blurts out before taking the hot pot from you, not caring if it was too hot to touch, and carelessly setting it on the counter. He quickly turns his attention back to you, pulling off the oven mitts, and inspecting your hands. “Are you okay? Sorry, I was just looking at you, wasn’t paying attention. It didn’t get you, did it?” he rambles, taking your hands and turning them every which way to make sure there were no visible burns.

“No, no, I’m fine. Those are some thick oven mitts,” you joke trying to ease his panic. You thought it was cute how much the idea of you being hurt put him in a frenzy. “Are you sure?” his words laced with concern, and a worried look etched across his face, as he continues to inspect you. The warmth of his hands makes you suck in a sharp breath, nodding slowly, “promise.”

Matt finally looks up at you, his eyes glancing towards your lips. He takes a step back, swallowing hard like he’s physically holding himself back from his next action. You watch as he leans over the stove, flipping the burner off you had thoughtlessly left on before taking a step closer to you. His hands snake around your waist, pulling you to him. The way your bodies fit together like two missing puzzle pieces makes a familiar weakness buckle at your knees. “I feel so bad,” he confesses. Matt sways side to side, gently rocking you with him as he plants a kiss on your forehead, “I’m really sorry.”

You pull back from him slightly, only so you can show him your hands, “no burns. I’m all good,” you tell him honestly. The worriment still plastered on his face as you wrap your arms around his neck, gently rubbing a thumb along the nape of his neck. “You’re sure?” he presses his lips in a thin line, trying to fight off a smile that was pulling at his lips. Playfully furrowing your eyebrows at him, “only if you promise I walk out of here in one piece.”

As much as Matt wanted to take you to his bedroom and leave you crawling out of his house, he knew it was the wrong thing to say. No promises. “Promise,” he lets his smile break through and yours follows soon after.

Matt lets his eyes explore, drifting from your eyes to your lips, and back up to your eyes again. You were fascinated by the meaning his held, they locked you in every time. His eyes were so blue, you felt like you were drowning every time he looked at you. You and Matt stay lost in time for a few seconds before you make your move, tiptoeing to press your lips to his. Not like other times when Matt would pull away rather quickly, letting his nerves get the best of him. Instead, he digs his fingers into your waist, pulling you so close that your body is pressed against his. He trails a hand up your arm until he's cupping the back of your neck, walking you backwards, the only thing to stop you is the edge of the countertop protruding into your back.

The built up sexual tension has your tongues dancing together like two ballroom characters from a Disney movie. In a way, this was your real-life version of Beauty and The Beast - pressed up against Matt’s counter as his hands explored your body and his tongue inspected every inch of your mouth. You didn't know where you and Matt stood, you didn't know the title of your relationship you shared with him, but you knew you enjoyed every second spent with him and you didn't want it to end anytime soon.

🏷️ - @lvrsturniolo @unknvhx @m11rx @ribread03 @emely9274 @thepubeburgler @loveparqdise @frickin-bats @sweetshuga (If I'm missing anyone or if anyone wants added, just let me know! Also pls remember to turn your tags on if they aren't already!)

43 notes · View notes

theogbadbitch · 3 days ago

Text

Long reblog😭

Opening up this app to see an update of R.E.L.L.S felt like this and I’m not even joking:

“and she’d hope to jump right into being jumped on. “ nami so #real🙂‍↕️

“Currently, she was dashing around; sweeping, vacuuming, dusting, moping, and the apartment smelled like an apple orchid. “ why I’m nervous like he coming over my damn house chile

“Her thoughts drifted to Terry and their situation. Someone as perfect as Terry had to have some flaw about him and though she was enjoying herself, she had her guard up. “ lol I hope this is not foreshadowing anything…

“She’d have to talk to him about it. “ this conversation will either go really well or be hell no in between (we might have to jump Terry if he hurt my girl feelings)

“I’ve been thinking about you stuffed full of my dick.”

“Then there was Terry. He told her it wasn’t a person she wanted to meet during any of their time together. “ what the hell is he like Batman I’m confused. Why is this is so ominous 😭😭😭😭😭

“Sir was a cake walk compared to Terry, but Nami was never going to find that out. Her behavior would have to be egregious. “ well now I’m curious and slightly intrigued. Ain’t no way he can get any meaner than Sir, Terry must be a damn villain

“She convinced him to watch a movie with her. “ Nami got his mean ass doing relationship type stuff I know thats right🙂‍↕️

“I haven’t heard from you since we went out. Busy?” Mona’s tone was both cautious and blunt. “ yes actually she is busy weirdo

“Did he get tired of you yet?” Her Dom jokes. He leers at Nami, seeing exactly why Terry was hooked on her. “ both of them weird as hell I’m irritated

“You know no one is going to want you in the community now? I mean, I told you what Terry did to submissives.” Mona says, ‘so, why did he leave? What stupid mistake did you make?” Mind you he in the bathroom as they speak

“Let me tell you something bitch,’ he growls, “Don’t you ever get another man to try to tell me what to do. I ain’t some little bitch to fuck with.” I JUST BUSTED OUT LAUGHING! HELLO???????

Coming to MY HOME to threaten me , I would’ve had something hot for both their asses

“She does what I tell her and if you don’t get your dog to mind his business handling an overstepping submissive will be my business.” Lord Terry about to whoop his ass ain’t it

“You brought another man to the house of your friend, who is a woman. To be yelled at and threatened.” Like Nami should really beat Mona’s ass because??????????

“ I love me a brat,’ he says, looking at Nami with a smirk”

Terry and Nami so better than me , soon as I heard that “bitch” word I would’ve crashed out

“with my girl” HIS girl🙂‍↕️

“His devotion to eating pussy was unmatched and she never had a guy who enjoyed it for his personal pleasure and not just hers.” a #REAL eater we love to see it!

“Let’s go to bed,’ he says, ‘I’m ready to fuck you.” We all cheered!!!

“She knew he was going to fuck her, but, she wasn’t prepared for just how good he was going to fuck her. “ He about to tear my girl UP

“Sir, I don't,’ she whined, her body so intensified with emotions of pain and pleasure she could barely form words.”

“Talk to me so I know you’re okay. Tell Daddy what’s wrong,’ he cooed, bending over to kiss her drooling lips. “ y’all let’s start picking out rings and baby names , I’ll start , I really like Amara for a girl

“You’re so sweet for letting Daddy fuck you like this,’ he praised, ‘letting him use you while you can barely think straight. Shit feel good, hm?” Wow.

“nine and a half inches. “ I KNEW IT.

“Ain’t no other nigga gon’ fuck you like this.” This is some I’m in your bushes stalking you type of dick, like this is insane

“Tell me what you need,’ he said, slowing his thrusts to enjoy the way she sighed in content.” AN EXORCISM

“Touch was his kink. The closeness drove him crazy. Whether it was on his shoulder or back, his dick was bricked, painfully so. “ This doesn’t explain why at this point you still won’t let her touch you but we’ll circle back to this sir. Something tells me Nami isn’t going to stop asking.

“It’s okay baby,’ he cooed. “ no it isn’t you are some type of succubus omg she gotta sage her apartment after this

“Just feel it,’ he slowed his strokes and grinned as she sobbed. “ smh he sick need him so bad

“Let me touch you, Sir,’ she begged”

“How about you go get in the bath? Let me clean you up and order lunch.” I shouldn’t have laughed at this😭😭😭

“Finish eating so we can play again.” Hey so this is actually insane! He would’ve had to get the hell out my house fr😭

.summary.: what's a little conversation among friends? nami and terry have some Play Time.

Kinks (in order they appear): oral m receiving, facefucking, terry is a chatty dom, fingering, oral f receiving, anal play (plug insertion), slight degradation, spanking, cum play, nami experiences sub space (cnc) Wordcount: 8k+ graphics: @firefly-graphics / @cafekitsune note: this is broken into two parts @zillasvilla watched me all weekend work on this and was like "Break it apart"

Terry had given Nami a week to reset. He would send her a text or call every now and then, but she hadn’t seen him in a week. She counted down the days until Friday and now that it was here she was anticipating so much. He had promised so much and all she had to do was behave. He was going to be spending the weekend at her place which mean it was a weekend of Play Time. A reward for getting through the long week of school, work, and her personal life.

Nami had spent the whole weekend prepping her apartment for Terry. She switched her sheets to black so they looked like the ones in his guest room that she used. There were some light yellow accents. Water was stocked in the fridge along with enough snacks to get them through whatever he had planned. She didn’t want to have to leave the bedroom for anything.

Currently, she was dashing around; sweeping, vacuuming, dusting, moping, and the apartment smelled like an apple orchid. The light fruity scent came from multiple candles. He was supposed to come at eight and they’d have breakfast and she’d hope to jump right into being jumped on.

Satisfied with the cleaning she did, Nami dashed to her bedroom and turned on her shower. She had everything to do once she was in; shave, exfoliate, cleanse, moisturize! She wanted this weekend to go as smooth as she was trying to make her skin. She had coco butter and a light scented body oil waiting on the counter.

Her thoughts drifted to Terry and their situation. Someone as perfect as Terry had to have some flaw about him and though she was enjoying herself, she had her guard up. Being here for his pleasure was all good and she was a willing participant, but her need for the closeness of a partner was rearing its ugly head. She wanted more of a connection that wasn’t just his hands on her body. She’d have to talk to him about it.

Nami finished in the shower and patted herself dry. She lathered her body in lotion and oil, creating a sweet vanilla scent that would linger as the day passed. She removed the rollers from her hair, the blow-out keeping it’s shape and curls. She found it much easier to have her hair down. He could wrap it around his hand better and the feeling of his fist against the back of her head made her cunt quiver. Playtimes were meant to be fun and light, no real lesson or teaching moment. It was about her pleasure. But she wanted him to manhandle her, without it being tied to punishment. She loved the build up.

Terry hadn’t told her what to wear, but she knew what to not put on. Reaching into her closet, she pulled out a pair of white soffee shorts and a yellow crop top. Just as she was coming out of her room, her doorbell went off. Nami slid over to the door and yanked it open.

“Hi,’ she greeted while leaning against the door frame.

Terry looked down at her and her outfit, humming in satisfaction, then pulled her to him as he stepped inside the apartment. He dropped his bag beside the door and kicked off his shoes while holding her still with his hands on her face and his lips on hers. He guided her towards her couch and made her sit.

“It’s been a long week,’ he whispered, ‘Daddy just needs you to suck his dick first,’ he pushed down the waistband of his sweats and she watched his dick pop up and smack against his stomach. “Hands on your knees and keep them there.”

He grabbed the back of her head and guided her mouth towards his leaking tip.

“Relax.” He reminded her.

Guiding his tip past her lips she relaxed her jaw and stuck out her tongue. Nami’s eyes clenched as he pushed further into her mouth. She breathed rapidly through her nose, managing to keep herself calm enough for him to slide down her throat. Her nose brushed his pelvis as he held her there. Her nails dug into her knees, leaving half crescent shapes.

“Good girl,’ he cooed, ‘I’ve been edging myself all week for you.”

Terry pulled his hips back and pushed them forward, using her mouth to get off.

“I’ve been thinking about you stuffed full of my dick.”

Nami looked up at him as the tip of his dick poked down her throat. Drool slid over her chin and over the front of her top. His stance widened as he moved her head up and down faster. Her spit covered his balls and she wanted to reach out to grab them.

“I’m going to hold myself off,’ he pulled her mouth off his dick and watched the spit and drool fall out of her mouth in a thick string connecting to his dick. “Suck the tip,’ he ordered.

She leaned forward and wrapped her lips around the head of his dick, sucking as he asked. Her cheeks hollowed out each time and he hissed, stroking the rest of his length with a tight fist.

“Head back,’ he grunted roughly, tugging on her curls, ‘mouth open.”

She stuck her tongue out for good measure and Terry watched her brown eyes look up at him in anticipation. His hand twisted up and down his dick. Above her, Terry jacked off against her lips. She listened to him bite back his moans. She felt emboldened by her position in front of him. Her tongue darted out and lapped at his tip again, smearing his pre-cum like frosting on a cake.

“That’s not being good,’ he gritted his teeth together and she giggled, repeating the action, much to his satisfaction. “Shit.”

Yanking her head backward, Terry leered over her as he choked his dick with his hand. His cum flew out in thick ropes of cum, hot and sticky on her mouth and tongue. He tasted a little salty, but it seemed like he had just come from working out. The thought of sucking his dick right after a workout was a kink she didn’t realize she wanted to act out. Terry pushed his dick into her mouth and she sucked him clean, the mess on her face cooling as her head bobbed up and down. He pushed her back into the couch and admired his work of art on her face.

Twenty minutes later, Nami was cleaned up and sitting at the kitchen island. Terry cooked breakfast; eggs, sausage, and grits. While eating he sat next to her with one of his hands between her legs. He wasn’t touching her pussy, yet, but his hand was close enough she could feel a little heat.

“You know it’s Play Time but let me give you a few ground rules. You get to cum as much as you want to but there are still boundaries.”

He grabbed her thigh. “No touching me or yourself unless you have permission.”

“You already know how to address me.” he paused. “And you understand when that changes.”

He told her it would be easy to tell who she was dealing with when they were together. Sir would have told her to drop to her knees at the door. He would have bent her over the arm of the couch and fucked her mouth. Daddy was nicer, sweeter, the man in front of her right now, and that she was excited about it. Then there was Terry. He told her it wasn’t a person she wanted to meet during any of their time together. He made himself sound like a caged animal locked away to keep the public safe. Terry was unforgiving. A disciplinarian to the highest degree. Sir was a cake walk compared to Terry, but Nami was never going to find that out. Her behavior would have to be egregious.

“Daddy,’ she says, eyes on her plate as she shoves her fork into her eggs.

“Let me know if it gets to be too much.”

Terry turned in his chair and pulled her chair closer to him. The hand between her legs moved and she felt two of his fingers snake themselves into her pussy. He wiggled them deep and watched her head loll backwards. Her mouth parted and she struggled to keep still and let him touch her how he wanted to.

Standing up, Terry moved behind her. He kept his hand between her legs, stroking her pussy with two fingers. His other hand snaked under her shirt, cupping her breast before tugging and pulling on her taut nipple. His lips found her neck, the three feelings overwhelming her body like a flood.

“I want to make you feel good.” He moved to the other nipple, tugging cowards on it. “Does it feel good when I touch you like this?”

His fingers stroked up to her clit, painting it in her slick before he plunged them back into her hole. His thumb pressed on her clit, pushing the throbbing bundle of nerves until she shook on the stool.

“Talk to me Nami,’ he says, ‘tell me to play with your pussy.”

The hand that was playing with her nipples wrapped around her throat. Leaning back against his chest, Terry held her still with his upper body while his fingers strummed her pussy like a guitar.

“I like when you touch me like this,’ she panted. Her chest rose and fell in time with her beating heart. “Your fingers feel so good, Daddy.”

“Do they?” He asked. Terry pulled them out and put them into her mouth.

She sucked slowly on his fingers as he pulled her from the stool. He walked her to the dining table and laid her across it. He pulled up a chair and pushed her legs to her chest as he sat down. Served up for his tasting, Terry did just that.

Terry excused himself to the bathroom. Nami cleaned up from breakfast, dumping the cold food and putting the coffee into the fridge to use later. She slipped on her shorts and wiped down the dining table. She brought out throw blankets and tossed them on the couch. She convinced him to watch a movie with her. As she spread out her favorite blanket there was a hard knock on her door.

She wasn’t expecting anyone so when she opened the door and saw Mona and her dom standing there she was surprised.

“What are you doing here,’ Nami asked.

“I haven’t heard from you since we went out. Busy?” Mona’s tone was both cautious and blunt. She kept looking at her dom, who was standing by the foyer. He didn’t look happy at all.

“School, you know it’s my last semester.” Nami replied. “Is everything okay?”

Mona didn’t just stop by. At least not without calling ahead first.

“Did he get tired of you yet?” Her Dom jokes. He leers at Nami, seeing exactly why Terry was hooked on her.

“You know no one is going to want you in the community now? I mean, I told you what Terry did to submissives.” Mona says, ‘so, why did he leave? What stupid mistake did you make?”

Nami shook her head. “No, no, no, he’s still my dominant.”

The same dominant that was in her bathroom and probably listening to this very conversation.

“He’s not here, so it doesn’t matter,’ her dom says annoyed. “Let me tell you something bitch,’ he growls, turning his sudden fury on Nami. “Don’t you ever get another man to try to tell me what to do. I ain’t some little bitch to fuck with.”

Shirtless, Nami saw Terry step out of the room, a scowl on his face. It was very clear he heard everything that was said.

“Mona, you brought him here to tell me that,’ Nami says as she takes a step backwards.

“She does what I tell her and if you don’t get your dog to mind his business handling an overstepping submissive will be my business.”

“A business you’re failing.” Terry said.

Four sets of eyes turned to him in shock. Mona’s eyes raked over Terry’s bare chest and the way his sweats hung low on his hips. Terry couldn’t remember their names and didn’t care either, but he wasn’t going to let them speak to Nami like that.

“You brought your dominant to your friend’s place,’ Terry says as he assesses the situation before him. “You brought another man to the house of your friend, who is a woman. To be yelled at and threatened.”

“We-’

”I just want to get the story straight.”

He walked over to Mona, the same way her dominant had walked up on Nami. Except, Mona was enjoying the attention. He could see it in her eyes; this is what she wanted. Her tight lip expression might fool the other man in the room, but he knew all he had to do was speak and Mona would drop to her knees.

“Tell her you’re jealous,’ Terry says. “Tell Nami, you’re jealous of her.”

“I’m not…no! Nami, I’m not-’

In a sweet voice, Terry folded his arms over his chest. “Tell. Her.” He looked at Nami and motioned her to move towards him. Just within reach, he had her stop. “I like submissives who listen. Your defiance is a turn off. That’s why I’ve never looked your way. I love me a brat,’ he says, looking at Nami with a smirk, ‘but you are a petulant brat. The worst kind.”

Mona’s mouth dropped open and her eyes darted between the two men in the room. Only one of them had control and she looked over her shoulder at Nami. Terry snapped his fingers in her face.

“Look at me when you say it,’ he says, ‘and mean it. Or you’ll stand here and say it until I tell you to stop.”

Her chance with Terry was long gone at this point. She knew that the moment he pulled her from the bar in the club.

“I’m jealous of Nami.”

“Why?” Terry asked. “Tell her why you’re jealous.”

Mona looked at her dominant and Terry laughed.

“I don’t know why you’re looking at him. He’s a switch at best, he’s not going to do anything for you.”

Nami’s Play Time was being interrupted and he could see was getting frustrated with the situation. As much as he wanted to draw this out, and he should, he didn’t want to completely ruin Nami’s day. He had a lot planned for her.

Terry stared at Mona causing her to fidget and eventually look up at him.

“I’m jealous of Nami because you picked her to be your submissive.” Terry leaned in, his voice low. He only wanted Mona to hear what he was about to tell her.

“I should make you tell her exactly how you really feel about her.”

Nami could sense that when they were getting dressed for the party. Her line of questioning had made her feel undesirable and to know Terry picked up on it as well didn’t make her feel as crazy as she thought she was.

“You’re lucky Nami is here.” Terry turned to the other man in the room and approached him. “Handling an overstepping submissive? I know you weren’t talking about Nami.”

“Nah,” he says, ‘Mona wanted to come see her friend.”

“I don’t want to do this right now.” Nami says. “Leave please.”

“You heard her,’ Terry says, though his eyes dare the man in front of her to move.

Mona turned around and gave Nami an apologetic look. “Call him off,’ she says, gesturing towards the stand off between the men.

Nami’s euphoric state of bliss was being compromised. This disruption was toying with her Play Time and she didn’t want Terry to be too annoyed to play with her. Nami felt hot in the face but it wasn’t from anger. She was getting upset and frustrated. Terry stood there, stoic and squared off, his stance defensive.

“Nami please,’ Mona says.

“Why should she do anything for you?” Terry taunted. He says, turning his head to glance at Mona and Nami behind him.

“The way you called me about her, you don’t get to speak to Mona that way.”

“Oh, wheres the bass you had with my girl,’ Terry grinned, ‘all that bravado is gone now that I’m in the room huh.”

“No one is scared of you,’ he replied, brows knitting together as his jaw tensed.

“I don’t want you to be,’ Terry replied. “I want you to be uncomfortable. I want you to not be weak. Defend your submissive,’ he taunted, ‘you don’t want me to talk to her?” He whispered. “Tell me.”

The tension in the room was high. Nami took a step towards Terry, hoping to diffuse the situation and get them out.

“Just go, Mona,’ Nami says.

Walking towards her bedroom she put space between her and the chaos swirling around her kitchen. She sat on the edge of her bed, legs folded as she dropped her head into her hands. Her friendship with Mona had been great. She never once did she think Mona had ill feelings towards her. Hearing her be jealous, and mean, over her relationship with Terry was hard. She wanted to share all her experiences with Terry with her. Finally diving into BDSM led to the break down of a friendship, if it ever was there.

“Hey,’ Nami looked up, face wet.

“Yes, Sir?” She says.

“Lie back.”

She did as she was told and they both moved on from what happened in the kitchen. She didn’t want to talk about it anyway and further mess up her morning. Terry moved to stand by the head of her bed. Her cuffs were slung over his shoulder and something silver was resting in his palm.

“Shorts off, bend your legs and keep them open for me.”

Nami did as told and also removed her top, Terry laughed at her haste and kissed her forehead. He cuffed her hands before kissing them.

“Keep them up,’ he says.

Crawling into the bed, Terry kissed his way up her leg, sucking the soft skin into his mouth as he watched her chest rise and fall. She anticipated things and her body responded to it. She knew his mouth was about to touch her pussy, so she anticipated it. Her body warmed and she started to leak slick from her lower lips. His warm breath heightened that feeling and she almost kicked him in the face when his lips landed on her knee.

“Relax,’ he says, ‘you will need to relax for what I’m about to do.”

He took her clit in his mouth, sucking slowly, while his fingers stroked around her wet hole. Terry pushed them in slowly, curling his fingers upwards as his tongue flattened against her clit. She was lost in the sensation of his mouth and fingers that when something cold, wet, and hard pressed against her asshole, she jumped. Terry pulled away from her pussy, licking his lips as he eyed the messed between her legs.

“Sir?”

“It’s a plug.”

“A plug? For what?”

“I think you know what it’s for. You asked for it.”

Nami breathed out and Terry’s head went back down between her legs. She focused on the way he devoured her pussy, licked and sucked until she was trembling again. She felt his hands moved, but not the anal plug. Instead, Terry licked his way down from her pussy to her ass then back up.

His devotion to eating pussy was unmatched and she never had a guy who enjoyed it for his personal pleasure and not just hers. He was doing it because he wanted to and it was for his own desires. There was a pool of her slickness on the bed between her legs, around his mouth, and coating the inside of her thighs. She got so messy.

As Nami began to wiggle and squirm to keep from riding his face, Terry used one hand to spread her left ass cheek. The anal plug rubbed against her puckered hole while his tongue licked back into her weeping sex. Both his tongue and the plug surged froward at the same time.

“Oh fuck,’ she cursed.

Terry smacked her outer thigh. “Watch that mouth.”

He pushed it to the hilt, making sure it was snug. The stretch was different and it made her clit throb. She clenched around it, only pulling it further in before it would relax as she unclenched. She felt full. The bulbous head of the plug stretched her deliciously.

“Oh that’s pretty.”

Netflix was on but Nami wasn’t sure what was playing any more. She straddled Terry’s lap, his hands on her thighs, smoothing around to her ass while another scratched up her naked back. The only thing she wore was the anal plug, firmly nestled in her ass, and her cuffs. The yellow material really looked like bracelets when they weren’t hooked together and to the bed. She held her own arms behind her back as they kissed. Her hips and his doing a motion against each other. She’d rocked side to side and he would jerk his hips up and down. The friction of his dick pressing against her led to more anticipation of what was to come.

Naked, Nami was exposed to him. Her body on display as she pulled away from his mouth to breathe.

“Let’s go to bed,’ he says, ‘I’m ready to fuck you.”

It was noon, the sun w as high in the sky as Terry tossed Nami on the bed. She bounced and moved towards the pillows, her hands in front of her. Terry dropped his sweats. She had seen his dick numerous times but there was something about this time that was different. She watched as he touched himself, his hand stroking upwards towards his tip when he grimaced from the touch. Sensitive, she logged that for later. He always ended their night in her mouth and if she got the chance she’d make sure to play with the sensitive tip.

He had another bottle in his hands before he squeezed a clear gel into his palm.

“Fucking your throat is one thing,’ he says, dropping a knee to the bed as he palmed his dick again. “Fucking you is another and I want to make sure I slide right in.”

This had been the moment Nami was waiting for. She knew he was going to fuck her, but, she wasn’t prepared for just how good he was going to fuck her.

“Sir, I don't,’ she whined, her body so intensified with emotions of pain and pleasure she could barely form words. She didn’t know if she wanted Terry to stop fucking her or keep going, but the inbetween felt too good to care. Her legs had long fallen to the bed, open and pliant in his hands. His hips snapped between hers slamming his balls against her ass as his dick finally split her open. As he finally fucked her like the dominant he was, uncaring, crazed, feral. Using her pussy in ways that made her more gushy than a Gusher candy.

“Mhn,’ he called, “Tell me what you need, baby.”

“Ah!,’ she keened.

His hips snapped upwards, then rutted against her, applying pressure to her clit.

“Talk to me so I know you’re okay. Tell Daddy what’s wrong,’ he cooed, bending over to kiss her drooling lips. He looked into her eyes, watching as she forced them straight but couldn’t help but cross them when he hit that spongy spot deep in her cunt.

“You’re so sweet for letting Daddy fuck you like this,’ he praised, ‘letting him use you while you can barely think straight. Shit feel good, hm?” He looked down where their bodies were joined. The mess between her legs was hypnotizing. She was so wet and creaming so much. “Giving Daddy such good pussy tonight.”

“I’m good,’ she repeated, as if she was asking him a question, not believing she was.

“Yes,’ he hissed, licking a long swipe up her neck before sucking a red spot into the side of it. Nami arched her chest into his, find some strength to wrap her legs around his waist, crying out at the way he began to wine his hips. “You gonna let Daddy play in his pussy, right?”

Her hands were tied above her head this time and she pulled on her restraints as she felt his fingers slid into her mouth for her to suck on.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,’ she hummed over and over. “Play in my sweet pussy Daddy,’ she mumbled, the words coming out between her moans.

“I know you are,’ he hummed a familiar beat, ‘gimmie that sweet,’ he flexed, his dick jumped, she cried out, ‘that nasty,’ he leaned down, going from two feet to one foot on the bed beside her open hips, ‘that gushy stuff.”

The sounds she made were wet and sticky; sloshing almost and it just kept spilling out of her this way. The position sent him deeper, stuffing her nice and full with all nine and a half inches.

Her lower body wiggled, trying to fight the pressure building as he stilled his body. Terry used her mouth like a toy, sucking her tongue into his, biting her lips, drawing a little of pain from the pleasure she was feeling between her legs. The stretch burned, but fuck, he made it feel so good. He hoisted her legs up so they fell over his arms. Fully seated in her pussy, he rubbed against her.

“You look so good taking my dick,’ he praises.

Nami ached to touch him. It was the one thing she had been working to earn since their first night, but he always bound her hands away from him. Avoided her finger like the plague. He knew her body so intimately her pussy clenched around his dick at the thought. Terry’s hands dropped to her waist in a bruising hold.

“That’s it, cum on my dick,’ he said, finally finding a rhythm she could rock her hips to.

Nami squirmed beneath him as he he fucked her into the bed. She was already running like a faucet, but when Terry pushed her legs towards her her head she gushed, a cord snapping as she came, squirting on him as he chased his high. Fuck he was so big. She thought, trying to catch her breath as her body tensed and jerked beneath him.

The wet sound of their skin slapping as Terry dug her out as he chased his high. His ball clenched tight as he held her throat and hip to keep her still. Him wearing his pussy out was the only thing on his mind, making her so tired she purred for his mouth to make it feel better. Terry could see how fucked out she was, her body coming down from her orgasm. He dropped his weight to her body, pushing them both up the bed and rutting against her as he placed her legs on his shoulders and leaned down. Still deep in that shit, Terry made sure she could feel him, poking that g-spot over and over. All she could do is scream out for him, cry, and beg him to not stop, and that he felt so good. Her sweet voice was slurred, each work leaving her lips like she was drunk off his dick.

Nami felt like she was in a tunnel. Terry’s voice was muffled to her, the intense feeling her body was experiencing had filled her head with so much pleasure she couldn’t think straight. It hurt to think about anything other than how he was making her body feel.

“Why you fucking me like this, ma’ he asks, hissing from how tight her pussy gripped him. “Why you sucking me in so deep, baby.”

Nami cried, too overwhelmed to respond with anything else. Her body, down to her tippy toes, was numb. She was barely holding onto reality.

“Ain’t no other nigga gon’ fuck you like this.”

She heard him speaking but it was more to himself, stroking his big ass ego the way his big ass dick was stroking her tight walls.

Terry looked at her, tears running from her eyes, her body shaking as she took his hard thrusts. He turned his head, kissing her both of her ankles he swiveled his hips side to side and she quivered.

“You want to nut again don’t you.” He grit his teeth together, the squishy sounds permeating the air the same way the smell of their sex did. “Hold that shit in,’ he snapped, ‘let me play in my pussy a lil’ longer.”

He could feel her about to cum and knew she wasn’t going to be able to hold it in. Her body had betrayed her twice already and those orgasms damn near made him bust. Terry yanked his dick out and dropped her legs to the bed. Nami whimpered and tried to reach for him, forgetting her hands were tied to the bed post. Splayed out, Terry bent down between her legs, his tongue replacing his dick. He slurped her clit into his mouth, flattened his tongue and dragged it up and down, coating his face in her slick.

“Oh Daddy,’ she drawled out. She planted one foot on the bed and arched towards his mouth.

His hand slapped against her ass, twice. “Pretty ass pussy,’ he mumbled, fisting his dick to stroke as he lapped at her drenched lips. “Why you so fucking wet hm? I can drown in this shit.” Terry released her clit with a soft popping sound and grabbed her legs again. His thrust back in jerked her upwards on the bed. He bottomed out and watched her grab the rope of her restraints.

“Tell me what you need,’ he said, slowing his thrusts so enjoy the way she sighed in content. He had abused this pussy for at least an hour, taking what he needed from her.

“Let me touch you,’ she whined, ‘please.”

Touch. Fuck. He knew the moment her hands touched him he would lose it. He always did. There was something about his girl, his sub, clinging to him for dear life, raking nails down his back like he knew she wanted to do.

“Please, please, please…’ she begged, a fresh set of tears springing from her eyes as she cried. His pace quickened.

She never asked before and he could see the longing in her eyes when they were together or in a scene. Touch was his kink. The closeness drove him crazy. Whether it was on his shoulder or back, his dick was bricked, painfully so.

He shook the thought away and continued to fuck her into the bed. Her pussy gripped his dick right and he groaned.

“Daddy just had to give this pussy something to do.” He grunted. He saw Nani’s arms and body slowly begin to relax. “That’s it,’ he coached.

Nami began to cry. The sensation she was feeling was out of body. She felt so high and weightless but at the same time grounded and heavy from his thrusts. She didn’t cry from pain but the pleasure just needed another way out. She unclenched her fists as he rocked his hips into hers. His dick curved slightly to the left and stretched her just as good. Terry’s dick was big.

“It’s okay baby,’ he cooed.

Nami whines and whimpered. Her thigh began to shake from her resolve snapping. She felt too exposed. The room light suddenly blinded her as he took off the scarf. Blurry she blinked out her tears as she turned her head to the side and went to bite down on her arm when Terry grabbed her face.

“Just feel it,’ he slowed his strokes and grinned as she sobbed. His tongue darted out and he licked her tears before sucking her lips into a kiss.

“Let Daddy take care of you, hm?” He wrapped his hand around her throat and held her to the bed. He looked into her eyes. They were glossy and she had a dazed expression on her face though she was fighting it.

“But….Daddy,’ she protested, her hips trying to get his to move again.

“Be a good girl,’ he says as he thrusts once more.

He resumed fucking Nami, filling her inch by inch with his dick. He held her hips and gave her slow but forceful thrusts. Her pussy choked his dick.

“Shit I’m going to fuck this pussy open.” He popped Nami on the thighs and she looked at him with doey brown eyes. “You're sitting on this dick all weekend.”

“Oh!” She whimpered, her pussy making wet sounds as his words make her gush a little.

Terry noticed and smirked. “You like when I talk to you like that, hm?”

He leans over her, his forehead pressing against hers as he watches his dick slide in an out of her cunt. There was a mess between their legs. A sticky, slippery, wet, mess. He sunk himself deep each thrust, caging her body between him and the bed so she didn’t slide across the sheets. Terry rubbed his hands down her thigh and then hooked it behind her knee before pushing it to the bed.

“Open up,’ he growled, eyes rolling backwards as she clenched around him. “Fuck, open that pussy up.”

Nami tugged on her restraints until they shook the headboard. Her body was slipping from her control and all she could do was let it happen. He had a tight grip on her leg, holding her still as he pummeled her into the mattress. The sheets were askew and pillows were somewhere on the floor. His sweat dripped onto her body, the cold droplets adding to the sensations her body was experiencing. Her clit throbbed for release, but it went ignored, and pulsed. Her toes were curling and her back was arching up off the bed, seeking out more contact from her dominate.

“I got you baby,’ he groaned. His own body shuddered. “Let me fuck this pussy like it deserves to be.”

Nami made the mistake of looking at Terry. He was staring right at her. His eyes had darkened. His brows were knitted together and when his tongue darted out to lick his thick lips, Nami whined. She could feel his hands on her body; slapping her thigh,

“Soggy ass pussy,’ he spoke, his thumb reached between their bodies and rubbed her neglected clit. “I wish you could see how sloppy this shit looks,’ he laughed. “Fuck, Nami.”

Terry was stroking something deep inside of her. He reached places no one had prior. He fucked her towards another orgasm, but this one felt uncontrolled. She scrunched her nose, thumbs pressing into the link on her cuffs, and he hips fell back to the bed. New sounds of pleasure fell from her lips. High pitched squeals as he snapped his hips over and over between her legs. Stuffing her with his fat dick to the point she could feel the recoil in her thighs. Speaking of, her thighs fell to the bed, fully opening herself to Terry and his hands.

“That’s it baby,’ he praised, ‘give Daddy his pussy.”

He used his hands to rub her sides, massaging her into relaxing. She stopped tugging on her cuffs and her arms slackened. Nami’s breath shuddered with each thrust between her legs, her pussy was stuffed full and she felt like she was feeling him in her stomach. The depths he reached mad her lift her hips for more.

“Be Daddy’s little doll,’ he whispered.

“Doll?” Her voice trembled and her bottom lip quivered. “I…..doll?”

She could barely form words, eyes crossed now that he could finally see them. As tight as her pussy was around his dick, that wasn’t the only thing turning him on. Her lack of speech made his ego puff up just a little. He warned her of his plans to fuck her and now that he was inside of her he didn’t want to leave. He enjoyed the other physical and mental effects of sex just as much as the actual act of sex.

“Yeah,’ he replied, his voice even as he stroked himself with her cunt.

Each slide back in Nami could feel the thick tip of his dick slide against her spot. Every. Time. he hit it directly and she saw stars. Her vision became a little spotty from the overwhelming pleasure he was giving her.

“My little ragdoll.”

Terry’s hands moved up her chest, tugging down on her nipples after rolling them between his fingers. He admired the bruises on her hips from his hands. The dark spots a reminded for her long after he was done. Respectfully he was going to make sure she had as many orgasms as he body could give. Disrespectfully? He was going to dig her pussy out and dick her down. He just needed her to-

“Daddy,’ she weeped, ‘I feel-’

“Let go for me,’ he coaches, kissing her quickly to ground her for a moment. Aware of her body, Terry wrapped a hand around her throat and applied just enough pressure she could focus on him. “Let it happen okay?” He says. “You’re slipping into sub space.” He noted, more to himself than her. “Let me take you there, Nami.”

His voice sounded like whispers to her. She hadn’t realized her eyes were closed until she opened them and he was watching her face. His expression was soft and a stark contrast to the roughness of his dick fucking her. She couldn’t hear her moans any more and her body started to float. Her thighs rose on their own, needing a little friction but it was pushed back to the bed.

A fucking faucet.

Dripping so fucking much.

Wet. Ass. Pussy!

His stamina was insane and Nami’s body was his outlet. That same body betrayed her. She felt like she was in a dream state. In a trance. She thought she was tugging on her restraints, but Terry had already unhooked it and her arms were laying above her head. She knew to keep them there but with the euphoric feeling course through her body she had no strength to move them anyway.

She felt like mush in hands. Pliant, Terry grabbed her neck again.

“Feels good,’ he asked. He knew getting her to talk in this state would be hard, he could see the pleasure in her eyes with how slack her mouth was.

Nami’s mouth dropped open and a trail of drool followed. She could see Terry but wasn’t really seeing him. She could feel him deep and each thrust drove her to the brink.

“Good,’ she choked out, ‘so big,’ she cried.

“I know baby,’ he hissed.

“Give it up, Nami.” He pushed her into the bed with a hand around her neck. “Submit, to Daddy.”

She couldn’t reach to hold him and the grip on the sheets wasn’t enough to keep Nami from jerking upwards as her climax sacked into her body. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as the arch in her back brought her body upwards so suddenly she gasped; unable to speak anything other than Daddy. She was a river of slick and emotions, her body levitating and grounded at the same time. The feeling was out of body and it was like she was watching herself get fucked. Terry pulled out long enough to roll her to her hands and knees. There was no hesitation as he slid right back into her velvety walls. He held her hips still as he pounded into her from behind. She could feel his balls slapping against her clit with each thrust and as her arms stretched above her head she wanted to reach back and cup his sack in her hands, feel how heavy he was, and stroke him that way towards pleasure.

“Push back on it,’ he ordered, grabbing a hand full of her hair to yank her head back. “Show me you want it, doll.”

Mindlessly, Nami pushed her hips back, letting his dick stretch her in the new position. Terry’s breathing began to change. His breaths were shorter, staggered, and he was trying to control them, but couldn’t. He snatched out of her cunt and pulled her to her feet. Weak, Nami fell into him and he popped her on the thighs.

Terry spun her around and forced her to bend over at the waist. At the perfect height, Nami touched her toes then wrapped her hands around her ankles. His feet kicked her legs apart right before he lined his dick up and slid back in. He moved her back and forth. There was a lack of balance but her trust in his strength to hold her up, kept her from worrying. She could feel her slick sliding down her legs.

“Fuck,’ Terry shouted. He moved her to the bed and laid her on her stomach at the edge. His hips slammed into her ass, his dick searching for that gummy spot that made her squirt earlier.

His eyes dropped to the anal plug he fitted into her earlier. He reached down and tapped it, causing it to move up and down. Nami’s hand swung back the new sensation jolting her body forward. Terry grabbed her wrist and folded her arm across her back.

“You want me in there,’ he taunted, using his other hand to twist the plug. “You want me to fuck this ass too huh?” He kissed between her shoulder blades as his hand pulled the plug halfway out and pushed it back in. “Yeah, you are,’ he cooed. “You’re going to give Daddy all your holes mmhm,’ he joked, smacking her ass as he fucked her.

This was his show. Terry felt on top, on cloud nine, and euphoric. The high seeping into his body was making him a bit feral. His grip on Nami tightened, his sack seizing up as Nami soaked his dick again. He was on the precipice of an orgasm when his eyes clenched shut. He bit down on his lip, nearly drawing blood, as he thrust became shallow and staggered. His rhythm was thrown off as Nami turned her head after lifting up on her arms to glance back at him. Her eyes were closed in pleasure and her mouth was swollen and parted. She looked fucked out while in sub space. She made soft cooing sounds instead of moans, egging him on.

“Fuck,’ he cursed, realized it was his favorite of the night, ‘it’s coming, shit I’m gonna cum.” He wasn’t wearing a condom and he hadn’t discussed with Nami where he should shoot his load. He wanted to fill her with it and watch it ooze out. So he was going to.

“Daddy’s gonna nut in this pussy,’ he pulled her backwards, grunting as ropes of hot cum painted her cervix and slippery walls.

Terry held her still white he emptied his sack, smacking her ass in time to the spurts leaving his tip. Stilling, he let her spasm around his dick, squeezing him deeper as she shook. Terry brought her hips up and pushed her shoulders into the bed. Inch by inch, Terry pulled out. When his tip was left he pushed back in once and Nami’s pussy gushed. Over sensitive, she was spent. Her pussy was spent. Clarity was setting and she inhaled suddenly, dropping to the bed as Terry pulled all the way out. He rolled her over and leaned over her. His lips slanted over hers and she sighed into his mouth.

“You did so good.” He praises her with kisses. Soft and sweet while her soul found its way back into her body. “See what being good for me gets you?” He reached between her legs and plunged two fingers into her pussy, churning them around while using his load as lubricant. “I told you I was going to teach this pussy what to do.”

He added his thumb and stroked her clit. He was playing with her now, toying with her over sensitive body. He was slowly bringing her down from that intense pleasure. Safely guiding her down so she didn’t hit the sub drop too hard.

“Talk to me, beautiful,’ he whispers. “What do you need from me?”

Nami licked her dry lips, panting as she tried to catch her breath. Speaking felt difficult and she cried suddenly from not being able to form words. She felt good. Everything about what she just experienced was perfect. She just couldn’t form the words to tell him that. Terry pulled his fingers out and smacked her pussy a few times.

“Water,’ she croaked, finding her voice amid her moaning, ‘please.”

Terry kissed her cheek. “There’s my girl,’ he noted, seeing the clarity returning in her eyes. She was looking at him now, not through him earlier. Fully present in her body, she tried to sit up. Terry pushed her gently back to the bed and helped her crawl towards the top. He grabbed the pillows from the floor and made a cocoon for her to curl up in. His cum leaked out her hole, smeared across her thigh as she moved. Wiping a hand down his face, he shook his head. He snatched up his sweats and strode towards her bathroom.

He ran her bath first and then slipped into her kitchen. He left the door open so the AC could kick on and cool the room. He grabbed a few waters and some fruit for her to snack on. Coming to the side of the bed, he opened one of the water bottles and pulled Nami to sit up. The cold water cools Nami as soon as it hit her tongue. Terry pulled the bottle away as she choked.

“Slow,’ he murmured. “Take it easy.”

She ate strawberries from his hands in between kisses.

“You were well worth the wait,’ he pulls her face in with a hand on her chin. “How do you feel?”

“Overwhelmed,’ she sighed, the word falling out of her lips blissfully. Though the haze of pleasure was gone, she was still feel the effects of submitting to Terry. High on his attention, she leaned into him, seeking out his mouth for another kiss.

Terry entertained her, pulling her to his lap, but keeping her hands in one of his behind her back. Nami wiggled against his hand.

“Let me touch you, Sir,’ she begged, her lips going from his jaw, to behind his ear, then his neck. She worked her hips against his bulge, aftercare becoming a fleeting thought as Nami worked herself back up.

“How about you go get in the bath? Let me clean you up and order lunch.”

Terry stood up, Nami in his arms as he carried her to the bathroom. He supported her with one hand, the other keeping her wrists locked. Placing her on her feet, he brought her hands above her head and helped her into the bath. Nami grimaced as a cool sticky substance rolled down her leg.

“You’re still leaking out of me,’ she lowered herself into the tub.

“As I should be.” He kissed the top of her head and opened the cabinet under the sink. She had multiple scents and soaps and he settled on a lavender body wash and pine scented lotion.

Terry bathed her and carried her back to her bed. He remade it while she soaked in the warm water. Drying her off, he motioned for her to lie down. Back against the pillows he knelt on the bed at her feet and began working lotion into her skin. His thumbs pressed into the arches of her foot, drawing out soft groans. Her calves were next, and Terry took his time there, sucking on her toes. He massaged her body, sucking on her skin in random places. He tugged on a shirt and she noticed it wasn’t yellow, but the black one he came over in.

Yanking back the sheets, he tucked Nami into them. The bedside lamp turning off as he pulled the little string.

“I’m not tired,’ she yawned, stretching her limbs.

“Nap. I’ll have lunch when you wake up.”

She didn’t remember falling asleep or hear when her bedroom door opened up. Now, something was pulling her awake. Terry, kneeling beside the bed, had pulled her to the edge of it and opened her legs, exposing her sore cunt to his greedy mouth. Each swipe of his tongue wetted his lips. His tongue flicked across her clit before it slipped into her hole, fucking her how his dick had earlier.

“I got a little hungry,’ he admitted. “I knew this pussy would still be swollen so I came to kiss it better.”

Nami raised up on her arms to watch his tongue work between her legs. He kept her legs open with his heavy hands. His tongue split her lips apart so he could suck her clit into his mouth. Terry tongued her pussy until she was rocking her hips against his face. The anal plug bumped against his chin and he pulled back to glance at it.

Pulling away from her, Terry stood up and pulled Nami to her feet. She was able to walk now and followed behind him to the kitchen. Next to the glass of water was another bowl of fruit and a plate of salmon and rice.

“Do you remember submitting to me?” He asked after a few minutes of silence.

“A little. It was a lot going on,’ she admitted, ‘it just felt good. My body just gave out.” She chewed on the end of her fork. “Being used like that felt really good.”

“It’s called sub space. Where your body just feels intensely good yes and you can't put it into words?”

Nami nodded.

“Being able to fuck you senseless like that,’ he whistled. “Nami, I’m ready to be back in that pussy. Finish eating so we can play again.”

┏━°❀•°:🎀 Taglist 🎀:°•❀°━┓

@nayaesworld @peachbuttetfly @harmshake @heauxvibez @avoidthings @mymindisneverhere @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @eilujion @heytaewrites @browngirldominion @insidefeelingofanadult @blackerthings @gwenda-fav @brandithecrystalgem @ranikyani

@captainwithoutmakingitlove @dremmmm @kindofaintrovert @thegreatlibraryofalex @jimmybutlrr @beenathembo @kuromiish @virgomess @bbyxgall @theereina @randomhood @ash-ketchumzzz @dundienominated

@swavydadon wabi-sabi1090 Blackgurlkillinit prawspektn iterum-incipi chiachia14 liquorlaughslove L0vesicktimes kinginwithbreezy-blog eilujion Atomicqueenbitch-blog gabbywontlose Heytaewrites 1333286ab-blog Keyera-jackson deja-r

Solunaseira 1thrasherkookie1 moooonluvr ashykneee cocogoddess0g zoey101-2 reignsboy19 cicici03 Elizablu lous-house-of-thoughtsl reci1996 romansglow mjcurlsss yana3sworld chloeijuana nun0ir wrestlingprincess80 simplyzeeka taureanstargirl mzv11

Disc0fair browngirldominion Murrylove venusesworld uceyliyah Venusesworld prettyfilmz simplyzeeka wrestlingprincess80 heytaewrites Liquorlaughslove @planetblaque