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importantpuppystarfish · 3 months ago

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Total Mass Destruction of Wonyoung!

Male reader or Y/N x Wonyoung

Warning: Very much hardcore & rough, humiliation, degrading, whipping, BBC, extreme deepthroat, total mess in facefucking, pissing & gangbang (in pt2)

Note: please this is all just a fantasy for reading and stuff, this can be uncomfortable to read so if ur weak hearted or a fluff enjoyer, typically do not read.

part one:

Wonyoung, the gorgeous Kpop idol, with her stunning visuals and captivating stage presence, she has millions of adoring fans around the world.

But she has a naughty secret - she's obsessed with big black cock. Her stash of videos consists entirely of BBC gangbangs. She fantasizes constantly about being stuffed and breed by multiple strong black men. Her skinny Korean frame aches to feel the immense girth and length only they can provide. Yet she keeps this side of herself hidden from her cutesy idol image.

While in the US for her group's performances, Wonyoung can't hold her curiosity any longer. She decides to go to a popular nightclub known for bringing out the biggest, blackest cocks in town. Her heart races thinking about finally living out her fantasy. She slips out of the hotel after wearing a revealing outfit to show off her famous figure, ready for anything.

Wonyoung is not a virgin anymore and has already been intimate with her own family members, satisfying her brother and father already. Now she burns with desire for something new - the bbc which she sees in porn videos.

She sees a huge smart guy approaching her. He's wearing a suit and handsome.. The guy welcomes Wonyoung to the area and asks her if she is new and where is she from.

Wonyoung's heart leaps as she spots the imposing figure of the well-dressed, rich-looking black man. She steps closer to make out his deep, rumbling voice.

"Oh I just arrived here from Korea," Wonyoung responds sweetly with a flirtatious bat of her eyelashes. "My name is Wonyoung. And you?"

She can feel something stir behind his suit as he looks down at her body up and down. A knowing grin spreads across his face.

"Pleasure to meet the beautiful Korean princess Wonyoung," he purrs, extending a large hand. "I'm Y/N."

Wonyoung gets excited when she hears his deep voice and sees his big hands… Wonyoung replies "Pleasure to meet u too. What do you do?"

"I'm a business and an influencer from California," Y/N says mysteriously, sending Wonyoung's interest soaring even higher. She realizes the guy must be very more richer than her.

Wonyoung feels his hot breath on her ear and shivers. "How old are you beautiful?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"19 and you?."

Y/N grins. "19? Haha I actually expected that. You do look like a young teenager." Y/N chuckles. "A girl should be curious about a man's age. I'm 35 but don't let that fool you, I've got the stamina of a much younger man."

"Interested to go and eat something somewhere private?" He whispers, his voice husky.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As they develop a positive relationship, Y/N takes Wonyoung to an upscale sushi restaurant where they enjoy a private dining experience. He orders expensive champagne and sushes her questions about herself while blatantly checking out her body. Wonyoung flirts shamelessly in return, feeling giddy and alive. She's living out her fantasy – seducing an older, wealthy black man. By dessert, his hand rests high up her thigh under the table. Wonyoung doesn't know whats coming next.

As they have few conversations on the date, y/n takes Wonyoung to his place after the date. They enter the luxurious penthouse. Wonyoung's eyes widen at the view of the city and how rich Y/N is.

Wonyoung follows Y/N into his stunning penthouse, amazed by the opulence. She turns in a circle, taking it all in – the floor-to-ceiling windows, marble floors, expensive artwork on the walls.

"Your place is incredible," she breathes out. Y/N leads her to his bed. Wonyoung is amazed to see such a huge bed. Wonyoung asks if he stays alone.

"Yes sweet thing, I stay here alone." He confirms, sitting down on the edge of the huge bed and patting the space next to him for Wonyoung to join. "My last few girlfriends couldn't handle being with an older, successful black man. They ran scared."

Y/N gives Wonyoung a smug look, his eyes roaming over her body possessively.

"Oh damn? How many girlfriends do u have?", Wonyoung asks curiously. "Let's see… I lose count after a dozen or so. Different women but they all want this but couldn't handle me." He gestures down at his crotch, bulge visibly straining against his pants. "I'm assuming you don't get intimidated easily?"

He reaches out to trace a finger lightly along Wonyoung's thigh.

As Wonyoung sat near him. She feels so small next to him. "Haha, I only had sexual stuff with my own brother." Wonyoung says.

Y/N's eyebrow shoots up at Wonyoung's admission but a hungry look fills his eyes. "Is that right? Your own brother eh?"

He grabs her chin firmly, tilting her face up to look at him. "And what about your daddy? Did you play with him too?" He asks bluntly, his deep voice sending a shiver down Wonyoung's spine.

"You're quite the naughty girl aren't you?"

"Wait how did u know? Yes…but i didnt feel like mentioning it.." She admits sheepishly.

Y/N chuckles darkly, clearly thrilled by Wonyoung's confession. "Baby you don't have to hide anything from me. I love that sweet little mouth of yours has been used so much already."

He pulls her closer by the hip until she's straddling his lap. "Mmm and now I get to use it."

One big hand cradles her jaw again as he draws her into a deep interracial forceful kiss, staking his claim on the young Kpop idol.

Wonyoung kisses back deep. They start french kissing. It's Wonyoung first time kissing with a black guy.

Y/N groans against her lips, tasting her sweet innocence. As he explores Wonyoung's mouth, his large hand slides under her top, palming one of her perky breasts over her bra.

The contrast between Wonyoung's petite frame and Y/N's muscular form is stark as they kiss. She sits tiny and delicate on his lap, his dark hand standing out against her fair skin as he fondles her. Their mouths move hungrily together, Wonyoung's small lips parted allowing his tongue inside. She clings to his broad shoulders as they French kiss, her face flushed with excitement. Y/N devours her young lips, clearly dominating the kiss, making it clear who is in charge.

Y/N grabs Wonyoung tighter. She feels his strong arms wrapped around. She can feel his chest too. Wonyoung feels so small, so breakable in his arms.. Y/N tears her outfit. Wonyoung is shocked as her outfit gets torn so easily, also it was very expensive.

"I'm going to ruin you darling…" Y/n growls, making no move to stop the destruction of her outfit.

"B-but Y/N…this is Gucci!" Wonyoung exclaims in shock, referring to her ripped top.

Y/N laughs at her. "I've got hundreds of thousands of gucci outfits more expensive tied up in this place and those clothes would also look good on you but still they doesn't suit you. Naked does."

He stands suddenly, holding Wonyoung by the wrists, he pushes Wonyoung on the bed and tears off all her clothes.

Wonyoung starts to feel uncomfortable as her outfit is totally torn and destroyed. Lying there completely exposed beneath Y/N makes Wonyoung feel incredibly small and vulnerable. His dark form looms over her petite frame as he begins unzipping his pants, freeing his massive, throbbing erection.

"You're u scared and skinny.," he purrs, kneeling between her thighs. "I'm gonna tear you apart now."

He runs his fingers roughly over her inner thighs, gradually moving closer to her folds.

Y/N is way too strong for Wonyoung. She feels like a fragile sex doll in front of him. He could easily crush her with his fingers. Wonyoung gets scared.

"Take it inside ur mouth!" y/n grins. Wonyoung opens her mouth welcoming the huge giant black length.

Y/N guides his engorged tip to her lips, a drop of pre-cum glistening there. As Wonyoung parts them obediently, he slowly pushes forward, his thick shaft entering her mouth.

"Good girl…" Y/n praises, the heat of her mouth enveloping him, her tiny tongue trying to accommodate his girth. He groans out in pleasure, a hand cradling the back of her head.

Inch by inch, Wonyoung feels him stretching her oral cavity to its limit. Saliva drips down as y/n invades her throat. y/n seems determined to make her choke and gag on every inch.

Despite Wonyoung's best efforts, Y/N's enormous size proves too much for her mouth. With a wicked grin, he sees that his full length cannot fit.

"Aww…" y/n drawls mockingly, pulling her head forward to try shoving the final inches in. She chokes and gags as her lips reach the base of his shaft, tears welling in her eyes from the effort.

"Looks like your little mouth just can't take all of me can it?"

Y/n withdraws from her mouth, a thin string of saliva breaking as his tip pops free. Wonyoung gasps for air, coughing and wheezing as she clutches her throat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wonyoung's eyes go wide with fear as Y/N ignores her discomfort, forcing his colossal rod back into her mouth. She feels powerless to stop him as the massive rod stretches her oral cavity to its absolute limit. Her lips are crushed beneath his girth, saliva dripping down in abundance. Tears stream down her face as she gags and chokes repeatedly, her muffled cries stifled by his relentless thrusts.

Each deep push into her mouth bruises her throat, leaving her feeling used and violated. She tries in vain to push away but he holds her head firmly in place, intent on violating her mouth regardless of the agony he inflicts.

Y/N sets a brutal pace, fucking Wonyoung's mouth without mercy now. His powerful hips snap forward, driving his black beast into her throat over and over with such force the bed shakes. Her whole head bobs along with his thrusts as he uses her mouth like a cheap fleshlight.

Wonyoung's eyes bulge as she feels him strike the back of her throat on every downward plunge. She's completely at his mercy, gagging and retching with each deep invasion. Saliva dripsdown her chin and chest in waves, drool puddling beneath her as she's ruthlessly facefucked without concern for her wellbeing. He pays no mind to her choking cries, consumed by his own pleasure as he claims her innocence in the most degrading way.

She can't breathe. She tries to pull back but he holds her head down, pushing further.

"Don't fight it bitch, be a good slut and take this cock." Y/N growls and reveals his dark side. His grip tightening as he forces her head down even deeper.

"You wanted this when you let me tear those clothes off slut!."

He looks down cruelly as tears stream down Wonyoung's red, splotchy face. Ignoring her pained gasps, he continues his aggressive facefucking, determined to break her.

"That's it, choke on this dick you little whore. You're learning your place aren't you?"

Wonyoung is choking hard now. Her eyes rolling back a bit. She tries to grab his arm but he slaps her face hard. Y/n continues facefucking her.

Y/N seems to enjoy the feel of Wonyoung's tiny hands attempting to push him away, so he decides to punish her further. His free hand strikes her inner thigh, leaving a red handprint on her delicate skin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"No using hands slut, mouth only."

He resumes his brutal pace, his hips pounding against her as he splits her mouth more wide open out of her limits. She's completely at his mercy, her body shaking and convulsing from lack of air. Saliva and tears mix on her face in a sad puddle. Each thrust makes her body lurch but he pays it no mind, intent on using her pretty face to satisfy himself.

"Look at you…a total mess already…and we're just getting started…" he taunts with a twisted grin.

Her vision starts to blur, she feels lightheaded and dizzy…

As Y/N reaches his limit deepthroating her, Wonyoung feels hot jets painting her tongue and throat, his seed pouring into her stomach without pause. Simultaneously, a warm, bitter liquid fills her mouth - it's his piss. He shows no mercy, marking every inch of her young mouth.

"Drink it up," he demands, holding her head in place as his fluids overwhelm her senses. She struggles weakly beneath him but cannot escape. His piss mixing with his load, it's too much, she has no choice but to swallow or drown.

"Mmm wow, you've proven your mouth belongs to me." Y/N pulls out, leaving Wonyoung gasping for breath. Wonyoung starts coughing continuously.

Wonyoung gasps for air desperately, her throat raw and hoarse from Y/N's brutal use of her mouth. She coughs and retches, trying to expel the bitter tastes coating her insides.

Her eyes water as she glances up at him, a mixture of fear and humiliation shining back. She shakily tries to push herself into a seated position, her hands bracing on the bed.

At this moment, Y/N rises from the bed and casually strolls over to a closet in the corner of the room. He returns with a wicked-looking leather whip and a coil of thick rope in hand. Wonyoung's eyes widen in terror as she sees what y/n just bought, her body shuddering.

"Now that you've tasted a sample, it's time for the real fun to begin." His voice is dark and promising punishment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wonyoung scoots backward on the floor, away from him, her vulnerability evident. She tries to speak again but only a raspy whimper escapes her swollen, used lips.

Wonyoung tries to run away. She understood its her fault to seduce black guys and shes not in the level for taking them ---- but its too late.

Y/N laughs cruelly as Wonyoung tries to flee, easily grabbing her ankle before she can get far.

"Oh no you don't."

He yanks her back roughly, sending her crashing to her belly on the floor. Pinning her down with his knee, he reaches for the rope.

"Stay still for me darling." He commands, his expression serious.

Before she can escape or struggle again, he binds her wrists together behind her back with tight knots. She thrashes beneath him but it's no use - the rope holds firm.

"You shouldn't try to leave when I've made it clear you belong to me now."

Wonyoung trembles, knowing her punishment is coming and shes fully tied up. Wonyoung looks at him pleadingly, her eyes wide with terror and regret. "Please sir..don't…" she whimpers, tugging at the rope binding her..

Y/N's eyes gleam with malicious delight at Wonyoung's pitiful begs. "You should have thought of that before that pretty mouth of yours tempted me."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He brings the whip cutting through the air and smashes her backside with a loud smack. Red welts immediately rise under the harsh lashes as she cries out in a mix of pain and shame.

Another strike rains down, harder this time, and he watches the young girl screaming. She is completely at his mercy now, helpless and vulnerable as he carries out his dark desires.

The pain is intense but Wonyoung knows she has to obey. With each subsequent strike, Wonyoung's cries grow louder and more raw. Her high pitched wails fill the room, laced with agony and defeat. As the whip bites into her tender flesh again and again, her voice cracks and breaks.

"AHH! !" She sobs, her body shuddering violently. Each new cry echoes off the walls, a haunting symphony of torment. Her throat begins to burn from the excessive screaming but she knows she must keep counting or face even worse consequences.

Y/n now positions Wonyoung to fuck her.

"Please…be gentle…" Wonyoung begs with her broken voice.

He pulls back up to stare down at her with a wicked grin. "Gentle isn't what you need."

"Ready or not, here I come."

With a single powerful thrust he plunges into her innocence, ripping through her barrier and making her cry out sharply in a combination of searing pain and fullness. This time Y/N continues still to whip her chest & tits.

She cries, the whip has marked her deeply. Her chest is now all red and bruised from the harsh lashes. Wonyoung near faints from the relentless pain and punishment. Her throat gets raw from screaming.

"Look at the beautiful mess I made of you." Y/N groans approvingly, pausing to take in the damage he's inflicted.

Wonyoung's cries turn to weak whimpers as she hangs limply, on the brink of unconsciousness. Her mangled body shakes beneath him.

"Still with me cutie?" He taunts, reaching down to run a gentle finger along her jawline.

Ignoring her pathetic state, Y/N begins to move within her, the wet slap of flesh echoing off the walls. He starts a brutal rhythm, using her sore, torn holes without care or concern for her welfare.

He leans down to bite down hard on her shoulder to muffle any louder sounds, savoring dominance over the broken girl.

Wonyoung screams at the top of her lungs, the pain unbearable. She loses consciousness, hanging limply now. Y/N continues fucking her anyway, not caring about her state.

Wonyoung's lack of response and only screaming only fuels his sadism further. He grips her hair, yanking her head back at an uncomfortable angle as he drives deeper.

With a more deep thrust, Y/N forces his entire length brutally into Wonyoung's tiny, ravaged pussy. She's so weak and unconscious that she doesn't fight back. The extreme intersection of his rod inside her stretches her to her limits causes Wonyoung's inner walls to tear painfully.

Y/N does not finish and doesn't pulls out. Wonyoung is a destroyed mess. She's out cold. Y/n seems to continue tearing Wonyoung inside apart, not stopping even once. Wonyoung's insides feel like mush.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N's sadistic bloodlust knows no bounds as he continues mutilating Wonyoung's innermost depths without mercy. Her inner walls are in tatters beneath his relentless pounding. Thick fluid drips down his length each time he withdraws just to spear her open body again and again.

"Fuck yes…take it u little whore," he roars, oblivious to anything but causing her maximum pain. His heavy sack slaps against her destroyed entrance with every brutal thrust.

He doesn't care that she's unconscious, barely holding together. The lewd wet sounds of tearing flesh fill the room including Wonyoung's crying noises. When he eventually does tire, it's not from exhaustion - just a wicked hunger satiated, if only temporarily.

Finally as Y/n reaches his own limits, spending himself, Y/N feels victorious as his hot seed fills Wonyoung's mutilated core. Wonyoung is totally breeded by y/n, her pussy full with his seed. Yet his cruelty isn't finished.

He aims to Wonyoung's face and begins to urinate directly onto her mouth & face. The warm liquid rains down, mixing with his cum flooding her mouth, nose, eyes. It's a brutal, degrading bath that shows just how little she means to him beyond a receptacle for his waste.

"Drink it up you filthy bitch!" He demand to Wonyoung cruelly, not stopping until he's emptied himself over her bruised and broken features. Wonyoung faints and collapses at the moment.

Even unconscious, Y/N's property must endure his most base impulses. With a final kick to her side, he withdraws from her violated body, leaving her a bruised, torn, piss-soaked mess.

He wears his clothes back with a satisfied swagger. The room reeks of their depravity now. Crumpled ribbons of rope and discarded clothes litter the floor. Y/N pauses, bending to retrieve his phone and snapping a pic of her broken, unconscious form before she regains consciousness to ruin it further.

"Enjoy your nap, princess." He purrs mockingly. "When you wake, things will only get worse."

With that chilling promise hanging in the air, he lets himself out, eagerly anticipating round two. Wonyoung is all his now - a plaything for his darkest desires.

part two:

1 hour later, Wonyoung starts to regain consciousness. Her body aches and stings all over. She can feel something warm and sticky dripping from…down there…

As her hazy eyes open, the world spins dizzily. A dry, cracked tongue flicks across parched lips trying to find moisture. The scent of sex and urine assaults her nose, the source immediately clear as she gazes down at her violated body.

Y/N's seed and piss trickle from swollen, wounded folds. She cries at the burning pain radiating through her pussy, each throb a harsh reminder of the beast who'd used her so brutally while she was unable to stop it.

"Oh god…" she whispers, the words barely audible.

She sees the restraints around her hands still tied…She tries to move but every inch of her body hurts.

Her heart pounds as the sound of footsteps approach, dread filling her to the core.

"Good, you're awake." Y/N says, voice dripping with malice as he reenters the room. "Miss me?"

This is far from over...he's just getting started. 9 friends of y/n enters the room. All are BBC and giant compared to wonyoung.

Wonyoung's eyes go wide with pure terror as she sees the group of imposing black men file into the room, their massive sizes dwarfing her skinny frame. She shakes her head frantically, whimpering "No, please no…"

Y/N grins wickedly at her panic. "Looks like I got you a little party, cutie."

The men lick their lips as they approach, their massive rods clearly visible through their pants. Wonyoung thrashes against the restraints, her body shuddering. She knows she cannot handle any more but she is completely at their mercy now.

One of the men kneels down, forcing her chin toward him. "You gonna be a good girl and open up?" He asks menacingly.

1 of them grabs her chin roughly, another one unbuttons himself. Wonyoung feels like she's going to pass out again just from the sight of them. 3 of them come closer, pulling off their shirts. She see their ripped muscles. One of them speaks up "You ready to be used like a hole? .. Others start touching Wonyoung's pure naked body, hungry to taste and eat her.

Wonyoung trembles violently as the trio of hulking men expose their chiseled physiques, beads of sweat glistening on tanned skin. She tries to shrink away from their roaming hands but there is nowhere to hide, trapped as she is.

"Please, no more…I can't…" she begs through choked sobs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"We gonna destroy every last hole, girl."

Panic overwhelms her as they position themselves, the leader at her mouth, another at her sore pussy, and a third readying to claim her backside. They smirk down at her maliciously, ready to make her break completely.

3 more friends join, making it 12 total. They start untying Wonyoung's ropes and drag her to the middle of the room. She's completely surrounded. 2 of them grab her arms and legs to hold her down. She tries to struggle but their strength is unprecedented. They start to fuck her now.

Wonyoung cries out as the men overpower her tiny frame between them, rendering her limp body immovable as they use her limbs as they wish. She's sandwiched between 3 of them now, each plowing into a different hole without care for her screams and pleas to stop.

"Getting tighter!" One grunts as he pummels her raw entrance.

"I like it when she fights!" Another laughs, gripping her throat with a hand.

The room echoes with the lewd smacks of flesh colliding, the acrid smell of sex, Wonyoung's loud screams of horror and exertion thick in the air.

The additional men take turns at her mouth and backside, stretching her limits impossibly further. She feels like she's being torn apart as they claim every inch relentlessly.

The men laugh manically as two of them force her legs back towards her head, exposing Wonyoung completely.

"Get ready slut, you wanted this," one growled before spitting on her exposed holes.

To her horror, two of them position themselves at her asshole (rear entrance) and pussy simultaneously. There's no preparation, no mercy. With a brutal thrust they drive into her at once, tearing her apart with the double penetration on both her pussy and asshole at the same time.

Wonyoung's screams become a hoarse, wailing shriek. Her body convulses, sensation overwhelming every nerve. More agony than she ever thought possible. Just when she thinks it can't get worse, a third man slides his tip into her mouth, silencing her cries.

The mens begin moving in rhythm, the friction and impactsend white hot pain shooting through her core. She feels like a ragdoll being used, stuffed full by these giant cocks. They pound without pause, grunting and swearing. Her limp body shakes violently beneath them.

Now as the triple penetration initiates, Wonyoung's scream reverberates through the room, raw and primal. The men work methodically - fucking her mouth, fucking her pussy, and fucking her asshole.

Slowly but surely they force their impressive girths into her tight holes. She feels utterly and completely full beyond anything imaginable. Hot shafts glide alongside each other within her, the thin walls separating her holes offering no resistance anymore as they violate every depth.

"Fuck yes, stretch that pretty little whore out!" One of them roars, savoring the vice-like grip of her body accommodating three beasts simultaneously.

Wonyoung's vision blurs from the intense sensation. Her insides are being rearranged, the men's powerful thrusts sawing in and out of her in a grueling rhythm. They use her mouth, pussy and ass as one connected pipeline, their movements synchronized to maximize her suffering.

"Damn…so fucking tight…gonna pop these bitches…" another grunts, picking up speed.

Wonyoung has never been so utterly and completely taken, stuffed to the limit in the most depraved way imaginable.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wonyoung's screams morph into wordless cries of torment and agony as her body is pushed to its extreme limits. Her voice cracks and give out from the intense overstimulation. She's little more than a ragdoll sandwiched between the mass of men, taking them all simultaneously.

2 cocks in her mouth, one in each hand, another 3 in her pussy, and 3 more stretching her anus - a total of 10 dicks claiming every hole at once. She's being utterly and completely ruined.

Her mind goes blank as she's pounded without mercy. The men above her use her lifeless form like a fucktoy, their flesh meeting with obscene squelching sounds. Each deep thrust draws more whimpers from her lips, her body shaking from the force of it all.

Wonyoung has shattered. Her spirit lies in tatters, beaten down by the relentless barrage of man meat. She no longer tries to resist or escape - she simply accepts, knowing she cannot fight back against these numbers. She's just a vessel for their carnal pleasure now.

Her holes feel utterly devastated and destroyed after taking 10 dicks simultaneously. The delicate tissues have been stretched beyond limits nature intended, left raw, swollen and bleeding from the brutal stretching.

Wonyoung can hardly feel anything besides a deep, throbbing ache - her nerves overwhelmed into hypersensitivity.

The constant gangbang fucking is unbearable, yet the men show no signs of stopping. Her holes are totally ruined permanently and torn apart. Slick fluids mix and drip down her thighs as wet, sloppy sounds fill the room with lewd evidence of her defilement.

It feels as though she'll never be whole again after this - that she'll carry the memory of this violence forever etched on her wounded flesh.

As Y/n takes his length out from Wonyoung's anus after fucking it deep, he starts to deepthroat her mouth as he slaps her face roughly, letting Wonyoung taste the insides of her own anus.

The dehumanizing "gawk gawk gawk" sounds she makes send a shiver down his spine, knowing he broke her completely.

He forces her head to bob faster on his length, face twisted in dark delight. The other men cheer at the spectacle, still pounding away at her ruined holes.

She simply accepts whatever they do to her mouth like a mindless automaton.

Y/N feels close. "Get ready for your last order, pet." He says coldly before shoving her head down hard, holding her in place as he reaches his climax directly into her throat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

4 friends roughly grab Wonyoung's arms and legs, holding her down on the floor.

Wonyoung offers no resistance as the men seize her limp limbs, pinning her prone body to the cold floor. Her breaths come in short, ragged gasps, her voice hoarse and sore from screaming and gagging.

With her held down, all the men exchange hungry grins, their eyes manic with depraved delight.

One gives the signal - it's time.

They all target their hard length across her face, specifically her mouth. Wonyoung feels them swell, knowing what's coming next.

"Get ready for your shower, whore," Y/N growls.

The first hot jet strikes her chest, warm liquid running down her tits. Others join in, raining down on her face, in her hair, over her used, abused body. She's powerless to escape as they mark their territory.

"Let it all out boys, drench her!" a voice calls out.

Streams of yellow join the torrent, the humiliation complete as they piss on Wonyoung like an animal. Tears well up again but don't mask the shock etched on her features. She's utterly degraded, soiled and saturated from their release and waste. A used, broken toy left discarded on the floor.

As the hot, bitter liquid splashed over her face and body, Wonyoung tried to turn away but the men kept her pinned down firmly. Her face was instantly drenched, eyes stinging from the onslaught. Piss trickled into her gasping mouth and nose, choking her.

She shook her head from side to side but it only served to spread it through her silken hair.

As more and more hot liquid continues to fill her mouth, Wonyoung is forced to drink all of their urine spilling over as she tries to consume it all. Wonyoung closes her eyes, surrendering completely now.

She feels the warmth spreading through as she gulps down load after load, the smell of urine now thick in her nostrils. It's disgusting yet something about submitting to this vile act makes her body tremble.

The men laugh and high-five as she dutifully drinks their offerings, leaving her belly bloated and full. She's their obedient little toilet, and a dark part of her responds to pleasing them this way. When they finally finish, she lies there panting, piss dripping from her mouth, hair totally wet, face totally full of piss.

Wonyoung's body trembles uncontrollably, her legs spread and shaking. Her holes are gaping open, lewdly stuffed with ropes of white seed oozing out to mix with the spent yellowed streams covering her.

She feels raw, used up, and yet…alive.

As she lays there exposed, dazed eyes drifting shut, she knows she's changed irrevocably by this brutal encounter. A dark, insatiable hunger stirs within her now craving more. More humiliation, more depravity - does wonyoung still yearn for it?

#wonyoung smut #ive smut #kpop gg smut #girl group smut #female idol smut #twice smut #izone smut #blackpink smut #jennie smut #yuna smut #yujin smut

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sexshopshenanigans · 2 years ago

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In a vacuum? Yeah, I agree that makeup can be a value-neutral art form! But in practice, please forgive me for not entirely believing all the “makeup is empowering! makeup is just for me! this is war paint!” arguments from people who aren’t comfortable going out in their bare face, aren’t comfortable taking and posting photos of themselves in a bare face, and are unwilling or unable to create art that isn’t conventionally pretty.

it’s been said so many times but it IS genuinely depressing to talk about how cosmetics are predatory and meant to make women more consumable and are pushed. but there always has to be someone saying “well i LIKE wearing makeup and look good in it so actually it’s empowering and if you critique this multi-billion dollar industry and its insidious nature you’re anti-feminist/hate women :/” like. We are not getting out of this alive, i fear

#I did an art project with a very pro-makeup friend recently #and my plan for the art project was ‘make a thing that is ugly and unpleasant and jarring’#and she literally could not understand what I wanted from it #she kept suggesting ways to make it prettier or ‘give it a glow up’#hon the ugly parts are what I want to keep and accentuate #it was the most literal example id ever seen of the usually-unspoken value system makeup artists have accepted #prettiness is the goal convention is the goal appeal is the goal #ugliness must be eradicated or hidden #flaws must be concealed #the end result MUST be flattering MUST be beautiful MUST be perfect #if there is no room for ugliness in your art form then I’m sorry but I don’t think it’s a meaningful art form #and also it is very blatantly bad for your mental well-being at that point

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youwontunderstand · 2 years ago

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My Hidden Self

Feels nothing but worry

It paces side to side

Draped in shadows

And a gleaming eye

Keenly watching me

It hisses and growls low

All attempts to sooth Myself

Have all but failed

#the cat #don't look #am i awake?#out of context thoughts #just not feeling up to much lately #solitude is one hell of a drug #stagnant waters #silent paws #hidden frustrations #my dreams are blatantly obvious #and empty

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theminecraftbee · 1 month ago

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If Cleo hadn’t known Joe for longer than either of them have known Hermitcraft, she might be concerned about Joe having an argument with himself about which of his six contingency boltholes to hide the two of them in and discuss plans. She might be even more concerned about how blatantly questionable several of them are—she didn’t even know Etho had an attic, let alone one Joe knew how to break into and had hidden a bed in. However, Cleo’s known Joe since longer than either of them have known Hermitcraft, and frankly this is an impressively minimal amount of bafflingly designed anxiety-induced disaster prep for him, so she just lets him guide him into the room and sits cross-legged on the floor.

“No one ever remembers that the overworld smells different,” she says with a sigh.

“For example, here it smells like Etho’s socks,” Joe responds. “Why does he keep socks in the attic, Cleo? I still haven’t figured it out!”

Cleo snorts. “He’s a very strange little man.”

Joe shakes his head. “No, no, if he were a strange little man, I’d know. That’s what I am!”

“No, you’re a strange little puppet these days. Entirely different.”

“Oh, right.”

The two of them sit in silence for a bit after that. Cleo just breathes. They are supposed to be dead or exiled, and they are not. “Supposed to be dead but they’re not” is like, Cleo’s entire thing as a zombie, and Joe’s entire thing as a person, so that’s not what’s making Cleo’s heart race. Maybe Joe’s right; maybe it is the smell of socks. Maybe, though, it’s that the world is different colors. Everything isn’t the same awful grey and red, stretched out endlessly across the horizon.

A fuzzy puppet hand is placed on her own. Cleo looks down.

“Sorry I couldn’t talk to you the whole time. I was being hunted for sport,” Joe says.

“What? No, don’t answer that. Scar. That was obvious. Don’t know why I bothered asking.”

“Doc also kind of wanted to?” Joe says. “But as we both know, Doc’s really bad at making threats that are actually actionable. It’s sort of embarrassing. Cub, also, although Cub and I were mostly engaged in psychological warfare. It’s kind of a shame he exiled himself; who else has an appropriately complex relationship with fireworks and comic sans?”

Cleo snorts. “Never change, Joe.”

“I can’t promise that. To live is to change,” Joe says solemnly.

“Walked into that one,” Cleo says.

They both fall silent a little longer.

“The fact you called me at all, uh. Texted me. Kept me company. Fought a dragon? The drop shipping? I—”

“If my best friend goes mad from loneliness I’m not a very good friend,” Joe says.

“Still, thanks,” Cleo says. “Thank you. It was—thank you.”

“Anyone would have,” Joe says, and all at once Cleo is laughing and sobbing into their hands. Distantly, they can hear Joe panicking; he’s never been very good at other people’s emotions. It’s just—nothing, for days, and everything now, and the edges of their sleeves are still singed from Grian’s attempt to render it all pointless, and Joe’s right here, and Joe’s right here, saying:

“It’s alright, Cleo. I mean, it’s not, there’s an authoritarian government that isn’t letting me play Permitmaster. But it’s okay, for some definition of that, I think—”

“They really wouldn’t,” Cleo manages between choked breaths.

“What?” Joe says.

“You said it’s what anyone would do and they really wouldn’t,” Cleo says.

“…really?” Joe says, and he sounds so idiotically baffled and so exactly like Joe Hills, constant in Cleo’s life since before either of them knew what a Hermitcraft was, that she breaks down into sobs again. Distantly, she recognizes that this is a symptom of having ridden a horse across the nether roof for enough days in a row that her ability to emotionally regulate snapped a little. Immediately, though, she can’t stop thinking about how lucky she is.

Joe smiles, strangely kind for a puppet, and leans his entire felt body against her. He stops talking for the moment. Cleo knows it’s more that he’s probably panicking internally than out of any desire for silence, but…

She’s really, really lucky.

By some miracle stroke, they’re both left alone long enough for Cleo to pull herself together, and then, to the sound of distant fireworks and sirens, they escape Etho’s attic, laughing.

Together they really are going to be so annoyingly unstoppable.

#hermitcraft #zombiecleo #joe hills #a bee fic #hermitfic #this was ORIGINALLY going to be another silly one #but then I ended up in my jleo feelings again #THEM… WEH…

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no-144444 · 13 days ago

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a little better - c.leclerc

꩜ summary: charles puts a bit more effort in and it seems your bond is becoming stronger.

꩜ pairing: husband! charles leclerc x fem! pregnant! wife! reader

꩜ a/n: would yall want more parts of this? pray tell :0

part one (this can be read on it's own tho but this just gives more context)

“My love!” he called out as he came in the door. While Bahrain hadn’t been great, he still wanted to come home before the triple header ended. He’d been around the house so much during the break that not seeing you had become weird. In the past few weeks, he’d really noticed how different your lives had become now. Long gone were the late-night phone calls that used to define your relationship. Replaced only by text updates on things that concerned you both. He tried asking how your day was, but you just turned it straight back on him and started discussing strategy and asking how he was feeling. Long gone were the small flirty or sweet texts throughout the day. It seemed you were allergic to your phone before 9pm at night, or maybe you just knew his routines so well and didn’t think he’d want to hear from you before that. Which broke his heart.

Apparently everyone else had noticed it too. Carlos had thought he was in the process of a divorce when he went to him about it. All of Ferrari assumed you two were separated and trying to figure out how to co-parent. It made him sick. Mostly, because he knew it was all his fault. Where was the Charles that used to speak about you everyday? Where was the Charles that defended you to the press so fiercely when you first entered his life? Where was the Charles who wasn’t a complacent, selfish asshole, who cared about his family and work for them, not himself? That Charles was gone. Or just hidden, somewhere, deep inside of him. He just had to… bring him back from the dead.

“Charles?” you questioned, getting up from the couch and scrambling to hide something. He stopped in his tracks as you turned to face him. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you,” he admitted, trying to see what you were hiding. He snapped his attention back to you. “I got you these,” he smiled, handing over your favourite flowers. You looked dumb-struck.

“Oh,” you said, blatantly surprised. “Well, thank you,” you smiled back at him. “How was your weekend?”

“You know how my weekend was, mi amour,” he shook his head. “How was your weekend?”

Again, dumb-struck. If this was the standard he’d actually set for his love life, he was pathetic. “Oh, well… It was good. I watched the race, watched Arthur’s race. Umm…” you thought for a moment. “I went to Maria’s baby shower. Looked around for Montessori's. Called my parents. Went for lunch with your mom,” you shrugged. “Pretty simple.”

He nodded, the smile on his face never leaving. “That’s good. Seems relaxed.”

“It was,” you shrugged. There was a silence. An awkward silence. He would have punched his past self in the face. How were things awkward with his own wife? “Have you eaten?”

He shook his head. “N-no, not yet. Just… got a flight straight here.”

You nodded, seemingly shocked by his being there.

“What were you working on, there?” he pointed to the couch and whatever object you were trying to hide. You looked down.

“It’s stupid,” you shook your head. “Doesn’t matter.”

“I care,” he assured you, taking your hand. “I want to see.”

You took a deep breath and picked up a half-finished quilt, the crochet needles still in. It was all of the cars on the grid, but the Ferrari had his number on it. “Just… like having something to do with my hands when I watch tv. It’s stupid, I know-”

“It’s wonderful,” he whispered, emotion catching in his throat. How could he neglect you for so long? His wonderful, creative, caring, loving, intelligent wife. “I think it’s wonderful.”

“You do?” you questioned, your voice small. He nodded, his eyes clouding with tears.

“I do,” he nodded, wiping his eyes. There was a silence and he wrapped an arm around you (as much as he could, the bump was in the way). “We’re going to be parents,” he whispered out.

You nodded, a small smile on your face. “We are,” you were in quiet contemplation for a moment. “Do you want to see what I’ve done to the nursery so far?”

Another promise he’d broken, but alas, this was progress. You were here, you were talking, and you were close to him. He’d take whatever he could get from you.

“I’d love to,” he smiled and took your hand as you led him to the nursery. You opened the door and inside was a sanctuary. Playmats, toys, a diaper changing table, etc. It was yellow, and overlooked Monaco bay, the wonderful sight it was now as the sun set. His breath caught in his throat when he saw the mini helmets of his on the windowsill. The little pockets of Ferrari merch. Odes to him. He could’ve cried. “I’m sorry,” he whispered out and your face fell. “I’m so sorry,” his voice cracked.

You turned back to him.“Charles, what–”

“You never call me Charles,” he whispered, wiping his eyes. “It’s always Char, or Charlie, or love, or something else, but it’s never Charles. It’s too impersonal, remember?” He placed a hand on your cheek. He was referencing a night many years ago, when you said you’d only call him Char from then on. You were only friends then, yet he knew he was in love with you from that moment on. The way you smiled when you said it, the view of Mt. Fuji behind you, couldn’t compare. He just stared at you all night long.

“I don’t have to call you Charles-” you offered and he let out a teary cough.

He took a deep breath, gathering himself again. “It’s not that I don’t want you to,” he sniffled. “I want you to not want to. I want you to feel close to me again,” he admitted. “And I know that has everything to do with me, and nothing to do with you, but please baby, I can’t lose you.”

“You haven’t-” you stressed, but he cut you off again.

“When was the last time we went on a date that wasn’t a public event?” he asked. You were quiet.

“When was the last time I did something nice for you before today?”

You were quiet.

“When was the last time we had sex?”

“I'm pregnant-” “So your libido should be heightened,” he sighed and you looked down at the floor again. “When was the last time you felt loved by me? Cared for by me?”

“Tonight,” you shrugged. “You liked the blanket. You didn’t think it was stupid.”

“I don’t think anything you do is stupid,” he shook his head, his eyes focused on you. “But before then? When?”

“Maybe Monaco last year? When you ran up to me at the barrier and kissed me in front of everyone,” you shrugged, acting like that hadn’t been the memory holding you together for the past 8 months. “When you said you won it for me and your dad and Jules.”

He sniffled again and nodded, though his heart was aching. “I’ve really fucked this up, haven’t I?”

You didn’t speak. You just leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “Let’s get some food, yeah?”

That didn’t leave much room for questioning. He followed you to the kitchen where you already had food cooking. Soup. Something comfortable and diet-approved as always. Catering everything to him. You sat across from each other and ate.

“How has the pregnancy been for you?” he asked.

`”We don’t have to get into that now-”

“I want to,” he pushed. “If you want to.”

You breathed out. “It’s… difficult. I’m in pain quite a lot, but I’m really excited to meet her,” you smiled softly. “I’m pretty scared about doing the delivery on my own, but my mom and your mom said they could be there, so that’s nice. My parents are going to come and help out the week I’m due and stay with your mom for two weeks, so that should be good. They’ll come over to help me out during the day and any nights I can’t do it on my own, since you’ll be racing,” you listed it all off, as if it wasn’t his biggest failing that he couldn’t be there. “So yeah. Scared but excited. What about you?”

He cleared his throat. “I’m excited too,” his voice was somber. “And I think I’d want to be with you in the delivery room… if you’d let me.”

“You don’t have to miss a race for me. I understand Charle- Char,” another knife in his heart. “I was just being dramatic and hormonal that day. Your career is important. You’re ambitious. It’s one of the things I love about you.”

He shook his head. “I want to be there. I really want to be there.”

“I don’t think Ferrari would let you-”

“Fuck ferrari,” he scoffed. “You’re my wife! If they can’t understand me wanting to be there for the birth of my child then I think I might be on the wrong team. Bon sang, je ne suis pas un robot de course.” (fuck’s sake, I’m not a racing robot).

You let out a small chuckle at how pressed he was getting. He stared back at you.

“What?” he questioned, a smirk creeping onto his lips.

“Nothing,” you shook your head, that small smile on your lips as you turned your attention back to your food. He shook his head and chuckled. “I missed you,” you admitted, the candle between you two lighting your face with a wonderful warm glow.

“I missed you too,” he reached across the table, taking your hand. “And I’ll be there for you, I promise.”

“Get it approved by Ferrari first,” ever the logical one. “Then we’ll talk about it,” you answered. “And this,” you signalled around you, and he knew you meant the whole night. Him caring. “Has to not just be a once-off, alright?”

He nodded. “I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I promise.”

Something about the way he said it made you believe him. You didn’t know if it terrified or exhilarated you. Either way, you had a long road to walk, but he would actually be there now, not just a figure in the distance.

And that felt a little better than before.

navigation for my blog :)

ferrari masterlist

taglist:

@awritingtree @boherahpsody @janeh22 @dustie-faerie @anayaverse @buckybarnessweetheart @scriptedinkbyxim @ferrarisstrategy

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cvnt4him · 2 months ago

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insecurities is just the most common thing a human being can experience..no matter your power, strong will, immaculate self discipline, insecurities are normal and everyone goes through it once in a while.

And like everyone else, you have your own insecurities. Being fat is something everyone seems to look down on. Everything is funnier and way easier to make fun of when you're fat. You hate looking at yourself and seeing your body. Your chubby tummy, your fat arms and squishy cheeks. They were the bare minimum of what you disliked about yourself, dare you say hate.

It will always befuddle you when you see your super handsome strong and admirable boyfriend. I mean he's well built, sexy, and damn was he just blatantly perfect. There's no point in pointing out small features about him when everything you seen was perfect. Anyone with eyes could see he is a walking piece of art perfectly made.

It hurts you to see that you're holding something like him down. It makes you feel terrible.

You're sulking in bed, you haven't moved since he's left this morning. It worries him terribly. It's normal for you to feel gross and icky but that doesn't mean it doesn't upset him as well. He hates seeing you cry, and when it gets this bad he can't help that stinging feeling he feels his heart give.

While you're hidden under the cover not bothering to lift your head up to see anything he slowly and quietly walked towards you, a small smile on his face as he climbed into bed behind you. You feel the extra dip in the bed added given his weight. you open your eyes beneath the cover before you swing the cover off of you whipping your head around to see your loving boyfriend.

Calm eyes full of love and adoration for you. He scoffs lightly and pulls you into a deep and tight hug causing you to whine. Small kisses are planted on top of your head while he holds you closely and you listen to his breath, his heart beating behind his chest.

“ ’s everything okay.”

It wasn't really a question but it was good to feel like he cared. Of course you knew he did, he cared so much and he made sure that you knew that....in his own weird ways.

You give a small nod before you try to scooch impossibly closer to him. He chuckled above you and sinks deeper into the comfort of the bed, not bothering to remove the clothes he was wearing after the long day he's had. Holding you was simply enough.

Sure he might not be done much of anything, but him just being near you was enough to make you feel loved. Like regardless of your weight, you're loved. He had a knack for that, he was a damn good person and an even better boyfriend. You were impossibly lucky, is all you could think.

“ I love you. y'know that.”

You nod again, he hums in disapproval above you his brows furrowing as he looks down at you giving the top of your head a rather aggressive kiss before he grabs you by your chin and cranes your head up to his so you can face him, he gives you a stern yet pouty look huffing as he stared down at you.

There is no way this big strong manly (for the most part) man was sitting here pouting. If only the world could see your man now. He was adorable that's for sure. You can't help the giggles and laughs that escape you as you stare up at him, admiring his handsome yet cute features. He truly was a work of art, the gods definitely took their precious time sculpting him and those abs.

“ I love you.”

He says once more while he continues to pout. You snicker and realize what's got him so peaved, he wants you to say 'i love you' back. You always say it back when he says it to you, mainly because it's true, you do love him as well. But another reason is because it makes you feel like he loves you just that little bit more when you say it.

For the fun of it, you decided you weren't gonna say it. Just to see how far you could really take it. A small displeased groan leaves him as he eyes you up and down eyes squinting at you as your teasing smile grows wider, you try your best not to crack but you can't help it. He's too cute, you burst out in laughter and let your head fall onto his chest.

He groans and kisses you all over, pouting and slightly annoyed with you but he can't deny the fact that he loves you far too much. You eventually tire yourselves out, small giggles leaving your two motionless and entwined bodies. Your arms draped over his body while his legs were in between yours, fingers locked together as you hold hands smiles on both of your tired faces.

He looks over to see your eyes closed, you weren't exactly asleep just in more of a dazed estate really thankful for what you have and how much love you feel even when you get in this mindset. A heavy sigh leaves him as he looks back up at the ceiling deciding he'll just do what he needs to in the morning. He quickly sheds his day clothes off and turns in for the night in only his boxers holding you close and kissing your temple, his hand on your tummy as he occasionally squeezes it, giving you a ticklish yet discomforting feeling.

You squirm at the touch and then to give him a warning look that he simply dismissed with a smirk and a roll of his eyes. He pulls you closer and chuckles in your ear lightly, you can feel his breath fan the side of your face as he sighs heavily.

It was hard to feel insecure about your body when regardless of what he does he managed to make you feel loved.

mha ➥ izuku midoriya, katsuki bakugou, EJIROU KIRISHIMA, mirio togata, denki kaminari silently.

hq ➥ HINATA SHOYOU, BOKUTO KOTAROU, atsumu miya, kuroo tetsuro, asahi azumane but quietly aswell.

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kjhbsies · 28 days ago

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Cool About It

navigation | main masterlist | rules

James Potter x reader

synopsis: Y/N never meant to fall for James Potter— it just happened. But she always knew where his heart truly belonged: with Lily Evans.

wordcount: 1,328

note: angst, angst, angst. Inspired by the song "Cool About It" by boygenius. one of my favorite songs to listen to.

part II: Multo

divider from @enchanthings

Y/n didn't expect this to happen. She never planned on falling in love with James Potter, but somehow, it happened anyway.

Maybe it was inevitable. Maybe it was written in the stars— like a cruel storyline at her expense. But can you blame her? James was the kind of person who burned bright— warm, radiant, and impossible to ignore. Every time he walked into a room, the whole place seemed to be a little more alive. His laughter was infectious, his presence magnetic, and his smile? Don't even get her started on his smile.

He was kind in a way that made people feel seen and important. Special.

And maybe, for a while, Y/n thought she was special, too. But she wasn't. Not in a way that Lily Evans was.

She stood behind a thick trunk of an old oak tree, hidden in the shadows, watching the scene unfold before her like a spectator to her own heartbreak.

James and Lily sat on the bench, their bodies angled towards each other as if the rest of the world had faded away. He was grinning at her, that lopsided, charming smile of his that he saved just for her. And for once, Lily wasn't pushing him away. Her green eyes were soft, and the small twitch of her lips was a dead giveaway that she clearly was enjoying this.

Y/n watched as he scooted closer, his confidence unwavering— and possibly spiking higher each passing second that Lily wasn't blatantly rejecting him. James lifted an arm, testing the waters, but this time— this time, Lily was letting him. She didn't roll her eyes. She wasn't pushing him. She just blushed, her rosy cheeks dusting a tint of pink like a soft flower blooming under the sunlight.

Y/n felt something inside her crack.

She knew James had loved Lily since the first time he laid his eyes on her. She saw how James spent the past 6 years of his life making grand gestures, confessing his undying love for her, only to be shut down every single time. And still, he never stopped. He waited. He changed. He became a better version of himself, all for her.

How can Y/n compare to that?

The answer is that she couldn't.

She had known that James Potter was never meant to be hers. That they were just friends. That he only ever saw her as his best mate, his partner-in-crime, the one he laughed with, joked with, and shared secrets with— but never loved. Not in a way that she wanted him to.

And yet, she had fallen for him.

A bitter smile tugged at her lips, but it wasn't enough to stop the tears from falling from her eyes. It wasn't enough to dull the ache in her chest, the sharp, gnawing feeling of knowing she would never be the one he looked at like that.

She didn't even realize she was crying until a warm hand suddenly covered her eyes, blocking her view of the gut-wrenching scene in front of her.

"Don't do this to yourself," Remus murmured.

The gentle one. The observant one. The one who probably had seen it coming before she even did.

His fingers were warm against her skin, shielding her from the image of James and Lily together, but it was too late. It had already burned into her memory, imprinted to her soul like a scar that wouldn't fade.

Y/n let out a shaky breath, but the moment Remus dropped his hand, she turned, burying her face into his chest as the first sob broke free. Remus hesitated for a second before wrapping his arms around her, holding her close, his touch careful but firm.

"It's okay," He whispered. "It's gonna be okay. I'm here."

But it wasn't okay. It was never going to be okay.

Because no matter how hard she pushed it down, not matter how hard she fought against it, she was in love with James Potter.

The night was colder than usual for summer. A chilly breeze rolled through the cobblestone streets, sending goosebumps crawling through Y/n's arms. She shoved her hands in her jacket pockets, keeping her head slightly bowed, eyes trained at the ground as she walked.

She didn't want this. She had tried every excuse she could think of to get out of walking home with James. She said she was fine. She said she had something else to do. Even Remus had stepped in, offering to take her instead, but James had simply glared at him— a sharp, uncharacteristic gleam in his hazel eyes.

Remus had exchanged a knowing glance with Y/n, one that didn't go unnoticed by James. And maybe for a second, just a fleeting moment, he felt something strange stirring in his chest. A weird, uncomfortable feeling he couldn't quite place. But he immediately shook it off before it could even linger.

So now, here they are.

James walked beside her, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. He was energetic, as usual, narrating a story gleefully. He didn't even seem to notice how Y/n kept a distance, how she barely responded, how she was quieter than usual.

"—And I swear, it's the best video game I've ever played in months. You'll love it. Well, actually, you'd probably think it's a waste of time, but it's not. You should come over to my place sometime, and I'll show you."

Y/n only let out a small hum but didn't respond.

James didn't notice. Or if he did, he ignored it. He continued, his voice animated, hands gesturing now as he talked.

"And Mum and Dad got another dog. That's three now, can you believe it? A bloody zoo, our house is. But you'd love this one. He's kind of short and chubby, but in a cute way. I'll ask for his picture later, and I will send it to you."

Another hum.

James finally glanced at her, his brows furrowing slightly. His smile wavered just for a second before he plastered it back on.

"Oi, are you even listening?" He lightly nudged her.

Y/n blinked, finally snapping out of her thoughts. She put on a forced smile. "Yeah, of course. A new dog. Sounds nice."

James leaned in at her and squinted, unconvinced. His gaze flickered over hers like he was trying to read her mind.

"You sure you're alright? You've barely said anything. Is it because I didn't let Moony walk you home? Because, come on, I know he's your favorite and all, but I can be just as—"

Y/n cut him off with a small laugh. "James, come on. I'm fine, really."

"...Really?"

"Yes," Y/n let out a small huff. "How's your date with Lily, by the way?" She asked, completely diverting the topic. She tried to sound casual, light, like the words didn't burn a bitterness in her tongue.

James perked up instantly, eyes lightening at the mention of Lily's name. He ran a hand through his thick, messy curls, grinning in that boyish, lovesick way.

"Oh, it was brilliant. We went to this little cafe near her house. She loves their tea there, you know? I always thought she was more of a coffee type of person, but nah, apparently, she loves a good chamomile."

Y/n nodded, swallowing a lump in her throat. "That's nice."

"And get this. She actually laughed at my joke this time. Do you know how rare that is? She never thinks I'm funny. But she laughed this time, like a genuine, real laugh."

"That's great."

James sighed dreamily. "Yeah, yeah it was."

And Y/N just nodded along, pretending like her heart wasn’t aching, like every word wasn’t a knife twisting in her chest. Pretending like it didn’t hurt to hear him talk about Lily the way she wished he’d talk about her.

She looked straight ahead, her steps steady, her expression neutral, willing herself not to break.

Because she had to be okay about it.

©kjhbsies

#james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x you #james potter fanfiction #james potter angst #marauders #james potter

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wandasaura · 7 months ago

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LET ME CHECK

summary —natasha just wants to make sure you haven't broken any rules since she left, and who better to help her out than maria

warning(s) — established relationship, alludes to existing sexual dynamic with maria, natasha’s your girlfriend maria’s simply there, dom/sub dynamics, inspection kink, semi-public sexual encounter, teasing, fingering, edging, orgasm denial, pussy spank, very slight degradation, humiliation, condescending tones and elements, praise kink, men/minors dni

authors note — a little fic for the sweetest girls birthday! @iwantscarlettandlizzie

kinktober

The hallways were dim as you crept across them in search of Maria’s office where you knew Natasha always sought refuge after meetings with Fury. Pathetic tissue paper pumpkins, that you’d spent nearly an hour constructing from thin pages of muted orange parchment, were held between your clammy fingers ambitiously. The instructions had been unbearably vague, but you knew how easily holidays slipped the minds of those that devoted their lives to saving others, so you attempted to boost the morale of those that you held close, even if it was a measly attempt at crafting that you brought to the table.

Your fingers, clammy and gauntly in appearance from how possessively you gripped the construction paper stems stapled onto the tissue paper pumpkins, itched to relieve a greater issue that turned your insides into butterflies and dull insatiable sparks of unattainable pleasure; an issue that Natasha had single handedly created that very morning when she roused you from sleep with her tongue between your thighs. She’d woken you in such a way countless times before, however today she’d given you the clear ultimatum to be good for her until further notice before she’d pulled away without allowing blissful relief to crash over you in any capacity, and you’d never blatantly gone against that; you’d never go against that. You were her good girl, her precious angel that she enjoyed corrupting in unspeakable ways, and as much as that ache between your legs was growing unbearable as your mind traveled back to those first few moments of pleasure that had started your grueling day, you could hold off on relieving yourself until she gave you permission to do so. You hoped that she gave you permission to do so.

When you reached Maria’s office, the blue-tinted lights reflecting off of your white skirt in a manner that you’d grown accustomed to since the first time you’d taken up space aboard the helicarrier with her, you knew that Natasha was hidden away inside without even opening the door, able to hear the low vibrations of her voice though the metal walls, probably throwing paper balls at Maria with her feet perched up on the desk. The Commander absolutely detested the mistreatment of furniture, especially furniture in her office, but for some reason, Natasha always got her way.

You didn’t bother knocking, balancing both paper pumpkins in one hand as you turned the sterling silver knob with the other, cautious of walking into a conversation you weren’t at liberty to know about. If you had knocked, you would’ve been turned away and assumed to be just another rookie seeking out her favoritism, but Maria never minded when you barged in. She’d been the one to instill that open door policy that you acted under now, and while it always made your belly churn with anxiety for potentially overstepping, she’d never once turned you away; especially not when Natasha was also seeking refuge in her spacious office overlooking eloquent clouds and tempting bodies of deep frigid water.

You smiled timidly as you captured their attention upon entering, bashfully smoothing down your skirt despite the sight beneath it not being anything they hadn’t seen before. A permanent blush had stained your cheeks since Natasha’s cruel teasing had ensued hours earlier, and as you fell victim to Maria’s dominating gaze, you felt the twinges of pink across your features darken as heat rushed to the tips of your ears. Natasha’s smirk of amusement was belittling to put it gently, but persistently you stepped farther into the room, allowing the door to softly close behind you, fully enveloping you in their undivided attention.

“There she is!” Natasha greeted you cheerfully, a stark contrast to the near primal gleam tainting her gentle eyes that had seen horrendous acts of evil and suffering in such a short life. “What do you have, baby?” She quizzed gently, her eyes wandering your frame, taking note of the decorative pumpkins you clutched, but ultimately traveling downward until they settled on the sight of your thighs, glimmering softly with slick beneath the bright lighting that enveloped your frame. It wasn’t noticeable to anyone that wasn’t truly looking, but to her, it was all she could see.

You shifted bashfully beneath her heavy stare, soft eyes filled with innocence darting between the decorations that felt like flames between your palms and the two women practically undressing you from across the room. “Pumpkins. I, um, I needed a distraction, and Masha always forgets about Halloween.”

“You needed a distraction, hm? Why’s that, baby?” Natasha craned her head inquisitively, a faux gleam of confusion crossing her features before it melted away into a that same look of possession that had been written within her eyes that morning. You were hers, entirely hers, she never questioned that, but she did love to prove it, and that always came with humiliation and Maria’s wandering hands.

“Um,” You faltered, your breath hitching as your eyes shifted over toward Maria who sat perched behind her desk with a near sadistic smirk pulling at the corners of her tantalizing lips. You’d done so many things with her since Natasha had introduced you both. You’d allowed her into your relationship during both the softest moments and the most intimate, but you never failed to grow shy beneath her gaze that had been so meticulously refined throughout the years of commanding armies and demanding respect.

Natasha knew firsthand how flustered you became beneath the attention of her best friend, and the sight of you floundering to be good never failed to amuse her. “You can say it, angel. I’m sure Masha would love to know what’s going on in that pretty little head.” She cooed, head tilting to the side in that sickeningly cruel manner that conveyed innocence and genuinity to anyone that didn’t know her personally, but was truly the start of a harsher game. When she looked at you like that, like you were her entire world, it almost always meant that she was going to ruin you unapologetically.

“Oh? What’s your needy girl gotten herself into now?” Maria wasn’t blind to your flustered state either, and as the words fell against your skin, your heart leapt in your chest and that coil in your belly tightened once more. Neither woman said anything about how you pressed your thighs together pathetically, but both of them noticed how you attempted to fight the arousal turning you to putty for them to play with however they pleased.

Your eyes found a coffee table to your left, and softly you laid both pumpkins down on the glass top, no longer interested in finding the perfect spot for them to live until the end of October came. With Natasha’s expectant gaze still set on you, you fiddled with the edge of your skirt and found the will to answer, despite your voice sounding meek and soft as it floated through the office overlooking the world beneath you. “Natty, um, Natty said I’m not allowed to cum until she says so.”

“Yeah, and I edged you this morning, didn’t I, pretty girl?” She hummed, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she watched you unravel without so much as a single hand reaching out to touch your aching body tenderly.

“Yeah.” You mumbled, dropping your gaze to your shoes, unable to keep your eyes on either her or Maria as humiliation crawled up your spine and turned those butterflies in your belly into wild sparks of anticipation.

“Nu uh, we want to hear you say it. Use your big girl words and tell Masha what happened this morning.” Natasha condescended easily, her posture straightening as she narrowed her gaze, challenging you to disobey.

“Um, Natty woke me up with her tongue. And, um, she said I’m not allowed to cum ‘til she says. Didn’t cum this morning. Didn’t cum at all. Promise. I promise, Natty. I was good!” You begged her to believe you, you knew that she did, the way you stood with your legs pressed together desperately was enough indication as any, but she wasn’t feeling kind, and you could see that just as easily as she could see you.

“I don’t know, baby. I think I’m gonna have to check.” She frowned sympathetically, but there was no ounce of sincerity in her wrinkled pout and earnest eyes. It never failed to turn you on when you realized just how easily she could deceive the untrained eye. Luckily for you, you hadn’t been an untrained eye in years, however unluckily, she wasn’t quick to spare you humiliation when she felt the need to be cruel. “Well, I think Maria should check. You wouldn't lie to Masha, would you?”

“No! Wouldn’t lie to Mia, I wouldn’t! Not lying to you!” You pleaded, blubbering with her to believe you, but it was futile. She already knew what she wanted, and unless you called your safe word, she wasn’t backing down. You didn’t want her to back down. Your belly burned with wild humiliation, but sickeningly that only heightened the arousal swimming in your belly like a rogue electrical chord.

“Come here and let’s prove it then, honey.” Maria’s features softened momentarily, a calming reassurance that had you following her voice without hesitation. Her hands fell onto your hips when you were close enough to reach, and tenderly she tugged you closer. “It’s okay, sweet girl. Let me check, let me see how icky those pretty panties are.”

She positioned you over her desk easily, a steady hand placed on the center of your back, guiding you down farther and farther until your chest was flush against her paperwork and your ass was propped out for her to grope and fondle however she pleased. You whined softly when she flipped up the edge of your skirt, her calloused fingertips ghosting along the globes of your ass that were only barely covered by cheeky pink panties printed with delicate frilly bows. You whimpered, body involuntarily twitching when those same fingers that had pulled the trigger of a few hundred guns dragged across the center of your panties, prodding at the damp patch that darkened the fabric and tormented you incessantly.

“Oh, that must be so uncomfortable, sweetheart. Your cunt’s making such a mess on these pretty panties.” Maria cooed, but there was no ounce of sympathy in the tone she’d taken, and your cheeks burned with humiliation as you felt her touch slip away and the telltale sounds of her sucking her fingers clean followed. Your eyes searched for Natasha, your hand reaching out to desperately hold onto hers, and she allowed it easily, her thumb brushing against the back of your hand as she maintained eye contact. “Just as sweet as I remember.” Maria mused softly before her hands found your body again, this time grabbing at the waistband of your pink panties. “Why don’t we take these off, hm?”

“Okay.” Your voice was shaky, but you knew she wanted a verbal response. All of this would stop the second you shut down, and as much as you wanted relief, not more teasing, you didn’t want this to end prematurely, so you mustered up the strength to respond, despite how you wanted to whine and plead and lean into the sensations of pleasure and nothing else.

“Good girl.” She hummed, lowering them down your legs the second you’d given her permission. You stepped out of them when she signaled, tried not to watch as she flung them across the room for anyone to see if they entered. You didn’t have the chance to plead for something more, because the second your panties were out of the way, her fingers were plunging deep into your core, seeking out that spongey spot that neither she nor Natasha had any trouble finding. “So wet, so tight. Ah ah, quiet, angel. We wouldn’t want the rookies next door to hear these pretty sounds, would we?”

You gasped back a moan, bottom lip bitten between your teeth as you dug your forehead into your arms, attempting to muffle the sounds that you couldn’t stop from falling off your lips entirely. For minutes she explored every inch of your cunt, making lewd comments to Natasha that diminished you to nothing but a pet, but just as that pleasure was starting to amount to something worth chasing, she was gone. Your skirt was flipped down, her fingers were licked clean, and her gaze was heavy as it fell upon you after she’d guided you back up onto your feet.

“Well, she wasn’t lying. The little slut’s just as desperate as she was this morning, if not more now.” Maria taunted, her gaze set on Natasha, not paying even the slightest ounce of attention to you as you whined and shook your head pleadingly.

“My good girl.” Natasha smiled softly, nodding for you to come around to her, and when you did, she eased you into her lap sweetly. “You’ll get to cum soon, I promise, angel. Why don’t you be a doll and get Masha and I some water, until then, yeah?”

With your head fuzzy and desperate to please, you could only nod your agreehand, but you faltered when her voice cut through the silence again, stopping you from collecting the panties that laid in a heap on the floor. “No. Leave them there. Desperate girls don’t need panties, you’re only going to ruin them more than you already did.”

Not wanting to fight, not wanting to prolong your pleasure than it already was, you only nodded your head, leaving the office behind on shaky legs, hoping that you’d earn her sympathy before the day came to an end and you were left unsatisfied for any longer.

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