#but you're looking me in the eyes and telling me you'd feel safe in a room ALONE with him???
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gyaruhana · 3 days ago
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Would you be willing to write about Thanos from Squid Game competing with a girlfriend who is very quiet and easily manipulated? Would love to see how he would protect her
Thanos/Choi Su-Bong - Easily manipulated!Reader Headcannons
Synopsis: thanos headcannons with an easily manipulated reader
A/N: i made two headcannons - one where he's a dickhead and the other where he's not so take your pick which you'd rather read !!
Warnings: Manipulation, HEAVY manipulation,
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In the games (Thanos when he's high so bad thanos):
he does manipulate you himself honestly
don't think you're safe from this man
silent threats masked with a baby voice to keep you on his side
doesn't trust you with anyone else so he keeps you close to him
makes you believe he'd keep you safe but, if it came down to you or him, he's letting you die.
super super touchy and always has an arm around your shoulder or he holds your face in his hands
maintains eye contact with you to make you feel like he cares when he's only using you
if he betrays you and you still survive somehow, he's quick to give you fake apologies and claim he didn't mean to
At some point, he takes his manipulation even further and starts using you for sex
Subtly tricks you into thinking you're a murderer by blaming you for the people he's killed and saying he wouldn't have had to do it if it wasn't for you
Isolates you from the others and makes you distrust them so you won't believe them when they say that he's using you
Myung-gi tried to tell you once and it made you question how Thanos really felt about you
His instinct reaction was to ask you if you really believed someone who had scammed so many people over him when he was the one who had 'kept you safe'
Basically guilt trips you
if you keep pushing his limits, he will hurt you
then he'll say it was your fault once again that he had to do that
makes you take his drugs too so you'll be even more naive to his clear manipulation
if you die before him, he'll have no remorse at all
He'll just look at you dead in the eyes before you do with a grin before waving goodbye as you get shot
Overall, manipulative dickhead that uses you for personal gain
"Do you really believe him over me? He's been a liar since before these games. I've kept you safe this whole time. Why would i lie to you?" he speaks with anger as he grips your chin in his hand. He was pissed you were questioning him. Maybe he hadn't manipulated you enough? Perhaps he needed to teach you a lesson about questioning him so he could put you back in your place. After all, he needed you if he was going to win 45.6 Billion won. "I don't want to do this to you but you need to learn a lesson,"
In the games (Thanos when he's not high so good Thanos):
worried about you honestly.
he likes to be around you constantly because he doesn't want you to be manipulated by someone
tries to tell you to not be so naive and just trust him
he doesn't trust anyone to not try to use you for their own gain in a game like this
protects you with his life.
If someone's talking to you, he's immediately by your side, his arm around your shoulder
He just wants to make sure you're not being tricked
typa guy who does sound sort of manipulative because he's always telling you to only trust him..
he doesn't mean to sound that way though he just doesn't want you to fall for someone's lies
super touchy
tries to get you to keep playing but, if you say no, he won't push any further and let you make your own choice
always ask you three times over about things he wants just to make sure you want it and you're not just agreeing because he asked
if you somehow get a private conversation without him around, he will immediately ask what they told you
If someone DOES try to manipulate you, he's on them so fast
will fight them and not hold back at all
overall, super caring and makes sure NOBODY manipulates you or else
"What are you talking about to my girlfriend here?" Thanos speaks as he walks towards you - his gaze on the man who had been talking to you. He didn't like it when other people would talk to you given your nature. He just didn't trust anyone's intentions with you and assumed everybody was out to get you. Better to be safe then sorry, he thought. He slung an arm over your shoulder and pulled you close to him. It was a clear threat to the guy to make him back off and not even think about coming near you again. "Actually, I don't care. Just leave her alone,"
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mountaintop-daydreaming · 11 hours ago
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i knew it was time to get off tiktok for the night when i saw a post where someone said they would feel 100% safe in a room alone with snape and 100% unsafe in a room with james or sirius....😐
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skeleaton · 1 day ago
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what if i touched myself in your car because the vibrations from the road were just distracting me too much
what if my hand roamed over to you and i put my hand on your thigh while you were driving
and i started rubbing you gently through your clothes while you were driving and i'm in your passenger seat
if you ban me to the back i'll just lift my shirt up for you to see my tits in your rearview mirror and spread my legs on the seats and whimper from the backseat
what if i pulled over to the side of the road, took a final drag of my cigarette and flicked the butt out of my car’s window while watching you through my rearview mirror with half lidded grey eyes, exhaling the smoke and letting it hit your hot reflection? while watching you touch yourself, listening to you provocatively whimper my name from the backseat?
what if i pulled the black hood of my oversized hoodie away from my previously hidden face, scoffed at you and told you “you're so desperate that you'd risk getting into a car accident huh”, trying to pull myself together and cover up the lustful undertone in my voice? trying to ignore that growing damp patch in my boxers?
what if i used both of my hands to abruptly slam the flexible front seats onto the back seats, deliberately trapping you in between and leaning over your beautiful body, looking deeply into your brown eyes to ask for your consent before you nod at me with shy puppy eyes? you know how important it is to me that my angel feels comfortable and safe with me, no matter how much of a tease you are.
what if i called you a “naughty bird”, rolled up my sleeves, replaced your hand with mine, started to spread your lips apart, exposing your wet and tight little pussy to me, and rub your throbbing clit with two of my tatted fingers, making our matching bracelets clatter in unison with your flustered noises?
what if i grabbed your thighs, sat you down on my lap, let you hump my clothed crotch and grind against me while i moved your hips rhythmically with both of my hands to encourage you, watching you with hungry eyes and telling you how fucking pretty you look? how mesmerized i am by you? how dumb it makes me to know you're all mine? god, i’m so in love with you and you know it.
what if i gently pushed you down into the back seat, left some hickeys on your sensitive neck, your collarbone and your perfect tits, sucked on your hard nipples and let my lips slide over your bare skin, spreading needy kisses and love bites all over your body while longingly tracing it with my fingertips and admiring your trust in me?
what if i tied my messy black hair back, spit on your swollen pussy and spread it all over with my tongue, gathering up your sweet wetness and mixing it with my own saliva before i retracted my tongue, kissed your pulsating clit and you could hear me swallow your tasty juices while my right hand reached up to grab and grope your tits, grumbling “fuck baby.. you taste so good” against your exposed flesh?
what if i nuzzled my pierced nose against your nub and inhaled your sweet aroma, causing me to groan in pleasure, as my warm tongue slides down the right side of your pretty cunt, down between the inner and outer labia, back up separating the lips, stroking and gathering the wetness coming from your pussy, my tongue going clockwise then counterclockwise, in, out, in, out and all around, licking and flicking your throbbing nub, my lips sucking harshly on your twitching clit as my lustful gaze wandered up to you, my half lidded eyes meeting yours?
what would you do?
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skrunksthatwunk · 2 years ago
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"hey HEY what do you have in your mouth!!! sit SIT. SPIT IT OUT GIVE IT—" but instead of talking to a dog it's me about my parents using the word overstimulated as nothing but another way to make fun of our anxious traumatized dog for doing things they find inconvenient or unreasonable or illogical (and, by extension, everyone who uses the term for legitimate reasons). (WHAT IS WRONG WITH THEM!!!!!!!!!! AND ALSO WHERE THE FUCK DID THEY HEAR IT BECAUSE I DON'T USE IT AROUND THEM On Purpose BECAUSE I KNOW THEY'D BE ANNOYING ABOUT IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)
#cannot stress enough that they are ill informed. they do not know what they're talking about and would not accept it if i told them#they're not accomodating to sensory needs and do not fucking know the context of capital o Overstimulation in regards to like. ppl with#sensory difficulties. like. c'mon man. if i told you i was overstimulated you'd tell me it wasn't that bad and i should just sit still and#shut up. but suddenly it's fine when you're making jokes about??? completely unrelated things??? i mean. dogs can probably be#overstimulated. i think everyone can in kind of a general sense. but they act like her getting up from the couch or smth is some frantic#strange action. they're super fucking weird about her actually they'll like. tease(?) her about how needy and pathetic and unloved she is#and how 'traumatized' she is and how that makes her act in ways that bother them in kind of an eye roll-y way which like.#SHE *IS* TRAUMATIZED. WE'VE ESTABLISHED THAT SHE HAS REASON TO ACT LIKE THIS#like 'haha she's soooo afraid we'll abandon her she's so ridiculous' what like how she was ditched as a puppy and lived on the streets for#like a year? you don't think that could've affected her at all#fucking psych major bullshit ass. 'formative experiences actually don't affect you lol' go fuck yourself#im not saying you can't tease your pets but they're treating her like her anxiety and even basic affection seeking is some huge burden#when it's absolutely not. they just want to be mean to her because they don't want her to act that way and don't care about how she feels#because they think they know better and she has no immediate reason to feel that way. god i wonder if THAT has any relevance to how they#raised their children. christ on a cracker man what the fuck#how to create an environment where your children feel safe expressing their problems (a goal they supposedly have):#1) not whatever this shit is. what the fuck is wrong with you#look maybe it doesn't sound that bad but it's been going on for years and it's been pissing me off for years. they're so cruel and for what#it's such a double standard. our other (male) dog seeks affection about as often and they don't ever make fun of him for it#and they've gotten more and more entitled about her showing affection. like it's commanded now. it's gross to me okay i don't like it#she's a sweet and kind and loving girl and i don't get why they feel the need to act like her wanting their love is so horrible when they#literally want that from her and scold her when she doesn't do it#this general attitude that ppl are over exaggerating their trauma or their feelings or their needs/wants/boundaries is so pervasive w them#that complete disregard for/invalidation of how others feel if you can't personally relate to or understand it. the mockery and cruelty#they wouldn't do it if she could understand them. i think they just like having that power over smth small that loves them#so *i* have to be like 'ohhh i love u ur so good!! im so happy ur here' to her to balance it and then thats also seen as ridiculous. wtf#skrunks' parents be considerate and introspective to ppl without risk of rejection if unkind & also don't be ableist challenge (impossible)#they will call low/no empathy ppl frightening monsters and then do this shit. empathy is not necessary for kindness and frankly if that's#your only reason to care about the wellbeing of others i think that's worse. bitch IM low empathy. at least i give a shit#im so glad my mom didnt puruse psychology after her bachelor's she woulda hurt so many people. or maybe she'd be better idk. fucks sake
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nezuscribe · 2 months ago
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there’s been a couple nights where you and arranged!gojo have had to host little dinners at the estate to show face and let people know you two are still alive.
it’s before the big confession, when the two of you were becoming closer, so it was just pretend niceness hiding the tension for a couple hours.
you tried to talk to the people around the large dining room table, sitting near gojo as you listened in on the conversation, but it was better to just be a part of it rather than the center of the spotlight. gojo had become increasingly aware of the long looks people gave your way, the hushed talks behind the women’s hands. you didn’t notice, maybe you’d been jaded to it, but he did, and he was becoming more tense under their stares.
he noticed how you’d try to jump in and say something, but was instantly cut off by somebody else. gojo had told you before the dinner started that the two of you should hold hands, but you hadn’t let go of his, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to let go of you either. he’d give you an encouraging squeeze, one which you gave him a little smile to, but still clammed up, sitting back in your seat.
"want me to tell them to shut up?" he whispered to you, dropping his head near your ear so that nobody else could hear.
"no it's okay," you say with a laugh, waving it off, "i was just going to ask what cashmere is," you say, in relation to a previous story one of the girls was telling about cashmere moth, and how her entire closet was chewed to bits because of the creatures.
"it's a type of fabric," he explains gently, his eyes searching yours, "very soft," he adds with a little smile and yours grows wider.
"i'd like to see it," you comment, leaning a little bit closer to him.
"i'll have your closets full of cashemere by the morning if you'd like," he says, but you know deep down it could be a promise if you simply said yes.
but you giggle, shaking your head.
"no," you're looking up at him in that way that makes his tongue feel heavy, "the moths, they must be huge," you murmur and he snorts, squeezing your hand a little bit tighter in retaliation.
to be honest, gojo hated these dinners. these people he grew up with were dull and annoying, their conversations full of lame gossip and cheap jokes, and he’d much prefer your lively stories with just you, but they were a necessary evil.
when the servants had cleared the meal away and had begun setting up for dessert, he could feel the stare of one of the girls, anya, and the way her eyes squinted when he caught her looking. he saw the way she sneakily tipped her head back, chin pointing to the opening near some of the stone columns, and excused herself a couple seconds later, looking over her shoulder at him before she disappeared.
gojo knew anya. he’d fooled around with her a couple of times long before the two of you got married, but he found her a bit shallow and dim, nothing he found interesting. he looked over at you to see if you had seen her, but you were looking at your plate, moving some grains of uneaten rice around with your fork.
curiosity got the better of him, wondering what it was she wanted, and so he stood up, his chair scraping behind him as you let go of his hand, you, along with everybody else, looking at him as he excused himself to the washroom.
he walked briskly past the table, leaving through one of the openings of the stone columns, looking around until he say anya at the end of the hall, waiting for him.
“what?” he bit out, hushed, looking behind him to make sure that nobody had followed him out.
anya smiled, her teeth glimmering as he neared her, standing a safe distance away as she pouted slightly.
gojo winced. he forgot how her smile up close was unnerving, the way it wasn’t as soft or full of emotion like yours. her eyes, a deep hazel, glimmered as she took a step closer, her fingers reaching for his collar.
“i missed you,” she whispered, lips glossy as she peered up at him, her lashes batting against her cheeks as he felt his mother dry up, feeling a sudden air of nausea overtake him as he swatted her hand away.
he pinched the bridge of his nose.
“is that all you wanted to tell me?” he hissed out, knowing how stupid he sounded seeing how he had followed her out, surely expecting this.
“what?” anya tilts her head, “thought you’d like to hear it.”
gojo rolls his eyes, crossing his arms across his chest.
“i thought you had something important to say,” he shrugs, looking away, focusing on a crack, getting ready to leave until she laughs, shaking her head.
nobody said he was the brightest soldier in all the land. he’s not above some actually good gossip, but he had a feeling this ain’t about to be that.
“you’ve always loved gossip,” her eyes glimmer as she takes another tentative step closer, “is that why you married the center of it?”
his eyes narrow slightly, but she just sees him listening to her.
“come on,” anya snorts, her hand coming up to his face until she stops at his cold gaze, pulling her hand away, “we all know it’s not rank or looks that made you marry her.”
gojo feels his arms tighten, a vein bulging in his neck as he swallows thickly. he doesn’t say anything, wants to see how she continues, wants to see what everybody else thinks without saying it.
"i mean, your mother keeps saying it was reciprocal," she rolls her eyes, laughing mirthlessly, "but i know that's a lie. you look miserable whenever you're around her."
gojo feels his eyes twitch, his ring shining in the slivers of moonlight through the large, overarching windows.
"did you call me here to talk ill of my wife?" gojo bites out, but she can't sense his tone, giggling as she shoves him, his body not moving.
"drop the theatrics 'toru," he feels bile in his mouth at her sweetened words, "it's just me," she says, biting her lips as indiscreetly as she can, eyes raking over his toned body as she looks back up to his face, "but regardless, no, i had something else i wanted to tell you."
she sighs, her voice a little higher as if he wouldn't notice.
"i'm staying at the hostelry in the town near here for a couple of nights," she bats her eyes again, and suddenly gojo wonders if he had been insanely ill when he had slept with her those months ago because now he feels sick just looking at her, "if you wanted...i'm there for you."
he raises his white brow slightly.
"gods anya," he breaths deeply through his nose, his eyes darkened, "you have audacity if nothing else."
she smiles brightly, taking it as a compliment.
"i know," she winks, "i looked around the area, and nobody of import comes near there. i know you need it as bad as i do," her voice drops a little, eyes falling slightly to the ground, "people are talking. i know how lonely you must feel."
his nose wrinkles slightly in confusion.
"what are you talking about?"
anya looks at him briefly before looking away, shrugging.
"everybody knows you two don't share a room," she explains, "and how she's not even showing signs of pregnancy. is she frigid in bed? you know, some people are saying she's infertile."
gojo straightens up, a new look taking over his face that makes her voice die down.
"what? who's saying that? who's talking?" he presses, and she feels her mouth dry up, suddenly picking up on the fact that he doesn't seem to be at all interested in the deal she's trying to make.
he feels a sudden wave of mixed emotions washing over him.
are the maids taking? gods, that makes him feel even worse. it surely couldn't be yours, they care for you too much. but it must've been somebody who knows your situation, somebody who sees the way you live on different sides of the estate. gojo feels a sinking pit in his stomach. these rumors that are growing because of his own selfish actions, rumors at your own expense, ones you have no control over, by people you've been trying to befriend for ages.
he knows people look at you whenever you enter a room, hears their awfully concealed whispers. and despite the fact that you try to hide the hurt on your face, he sees the way you avade their glances, hide into yourself to act like it doesn't bother you.
are these whispers now because of him?
"i don't know," she mutters, annoyed, "everyone. you barely look at her. did your parents pay you to marry her? she must've been-"
"stop it." gojo warns, and she shuts her mouth, eyes shimmering with shock.
she looks like she's about to say something but stops, looking over his looming body at something.
"gojo? is that you?" another voice calls out, and he turns around, all the anger melting off of his face when he sees it's you, standing near the pillars as you try to find him.
you smile when you see him, still not seeing anya who's hidden behind him, and wave for him to come back.
"they're about to serve dessert," you say, trying to be as quiet as you can, "oh, are you with someone? sorry, i didn't mean to interrupt..." you trail off, your smile falling when anya shuffles around, making sure you see her behind him, your eyes widening.
gojo feels his world slipping beneath him as your shoulder drops, looking at him and then at anya, a somber look taking over your features. you look for another second, not knowing what to do. gojo feels like a fish, gaping silently at you, never looking back at anya, but you excuse yourself, going back to the dining hall without saying another word.
gojo stares aimlessly at the wall in front of him, not sparing his energy to look at the girl peering up at his face.
"get out," he murmurs, his voice low with timber.
"w-what?" she stammers, brows furrowing in confusion.
"get out before i call the guards," he snaps, looking at her from the side of his eyes, "fucking now anya, leave."
she looks up at him, swallowing thickly, but gets the memo that he's being serious. she scammers away, sniffling dramatically as she disappears through another hallway.
he drops his head into his hands, massaging his temples.
his eyes fall to his ring, the one that seems to be growing cold on his finger.
he feels his heart burn in his chest, every step feeling like he had stones tied to his feet as he makes his way back to the hall, hearing the edited clammer of the people welcoming him back, but there was only one person he cared about.
and you weren't looking at him.
in fact, you didn't speak to him that entire night. nor that following week.
gojo has almost bled to death before and has had arrows pierce his back and exit through his chest, but he'd rather experience that ten times again than feel the agonizing silence of the woman he's starting to love.
(second part)
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cherrygirlfriend · 3 months ago
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rafe catching innocentvirgin!reader working out
warnings: smut, no actual sex but like graphic descriptions of fantasies so i think it counts? MDNI this is for my pilates princesses, i'm trying to get into it and whew i have so much respect for yall,,, ANYWAY hope u guys are staying healthy and safe!!! mwah
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rafe was knocking on your door impatiently, wanting to see you more than anything after the day he had, finding out that the development he had been busting his ass for for months had been delayed, but you weren't answering the door or even his texts telling you to open the door; that didn't stop him, the man knowing where your parents kept the spare key, getting it out of a pot of asterias, opening the door. you'd told him he could only use it 'only in case of emergencies', but to him, this constituted as an emergency.
rafe didn't bother to put the key back as he walked further into the house, hearing the noise of the television coming from your living room. he made his way to the living room, his eyes widening slightly when he saw exactly what had you so busy.
you were splayed on the floor, a pink workout mat underneath you, watching some workout video on your tv while your headphones were on, wearing a pair of pink fitness shorts that made your ass look so good he was almost drooling, along with a white sports bra, turned away from him, one of your hands splayed on the ground while the other one was bent on your head, one of your knees on the mat while your other was reaching up.
"jesus christ." he mumbled as he stared at you, the curve of your ass in those pink shorts causing his dick to stir in his shorts.
only a few seconds later, you moved to sit down on the mat, only to be startled by your boyfriend shamelessly ogling you, letting out a small gasp as you basically fell on your ass on the mat, your eyes widening.
you took off your headphones, throwing them onto the couch behind you, and even though your face was already warm and flushed, it seemed to get worse when you noticed him staring at you. "rafe!" you exclaimed as you stood up, his eyes now locked onto your hardened nipples under the sports bra, your tits almost pressed together, a sheen of sweat running down your cleavage.
"jesus fucking christ." he said, licking his lips slightly as you took your pink zip-up jacket and put it on, yet the way it clung to your body and the small sliver of your sports bra did almost nothing to hide how delicious you looked. "no, no, baby, don't stop on my accord." rafe grinned, his hands on your waist, aware that he was sporting a pretty obvious hard-on as he pulled you closer.
"i don't want you to see me all gross and sweaty." you pouted, and the way you sucked your lip in made nothing to calm down the obvious tent in his shorts.
"you look so fucking sexy right now." he said, pulling you closer to him, and you could feel his hard-on press against your abdomen, the blonde letting out a small groan from only that contact. "literally, i've never... jesus."
"i'm not sexy right now." you roll your eyes, pushing away a stray hair that had stuck to your cheek, trying to look down in embarrassment.
"you're kidding, right?" rafe snorted, his hand going lower and lower, almost going to the curve to your ass. "i think you can feel how sexy you look, huh?" he took hold of your chin with his fingers, and lifted it up, making you look up at him. "if you didn't want to wait longer, do you know the things i'd do to you?"
"w-what?" you asked in a way that was almost a whisper, biting your lower lip as you looked at him through your lashes.
"fuck, i'd just rip that cute little set off and take you right here on the couch. i'd make you ride me, give you a workout that's much better than this crap you're doing, your tits bouncing in my face, my hands gripping those pretty thighs... shit, i might cum just thinking about it."
you softly smacked him in the chest, feeling a warmth in your abdomen only he managed to cause, sure that you'd never blushed so hard in your life. "raafee..."
he brings your face up to his, bringing your lips to his as he bent down slightly, the kiss much more heated than any other kiss that you'd shared, his hand now on the curve of your ass, squeezing it in a way that made you gasp against his lips, his other hand now in your hair.
after a moment, you pulled away breathlessly, his erection had somehow gotten even worse than before, your lips swollen and a doe-eyed look in your eyes. "we should... uh, we should stop, since, you know..."
"yeah, i know baby." he rolled his eyes exasperatedly, before chuckling softly. "god, i'm not gonna forget this little outfit in a while. lemme take a pic of it?"
"noo, i look gross!"
"don't talk about my girl like that." he tsked, taking hold of your jaw. "come on, i need something to get myself off to later."
"alright, fine." you scoffed and rolled your eyes, before letting out a small chuckle as you started unzipping your jacket.
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bunny-jpeg · 2 months ago
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bulk
capt. john price
cw: smut/pwp, rugby au, rugby player!price, age gap (20s/40s), size difference/kink, rough sex, doggy style, headlock (slight choking), dirty talk & degrading language, breeding kink, is this ticking off boxes for anyone?
this bunny feeds on comments & reblogs! feed the rabbit!
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john price was a big man. almost ten years playing professional rugby for the english team, he had bulked up since his early years on the team.  thick muscle and a nice softness over top. he was strong, able to carry all the groceries inside of your shared flat and also get his hulking frame across the field with ball in hand. he was also hairy, patches of hair across his chest down to his belly, didn't mention all the pubic hair between his legs. it obscured a lot of his tattoos that he had gotten over the years, like your name over his heart and his jersey number at his thigh (you knew you'd get too hot if you thought about his thighs too much).  you once told him, with your tongue loose with alcohol that it was the ideal male body. that these ‘dehydrated poor excuses of men’ needed to drink water and eat some carbs. 
price was a man's man. you knew the first time you fucked him, that you'd never ever fuck with those limp dicked boys at your university. you got addicted to the feeling of a real man, one who know exactly how to make your eyes roll back and your tongue hang out, panting heavily like a good bitch you were.
post-game price was your favourite shade of john price. you could feel his electricity while in the passenger seat of the car after the match. when he pulled out of the parking lot, he placed his large hand on your thigh. he played with the edge of your skirt and kept his eyes on the road. you could tell that the wheels in his head were turning. 
  “honey?”
  “been thinkin', love.” he said as his fingers edged up your skirt a little more. like he was a teen boy rather than a forty year old man. he was teasing you, knowing that there would be no way you could both fuck in the back of his car. even it was an expensive vehicle, it would be a tight fit for such a large man and his smaller wife. 
you looked at him and said, “never a good thing for a man to think.” you giggled then yelped when he gripped your thigh suddenly. 
he chuckled a little as he continued to drive, “thinkin' about makin' a baby.” he licked his top lip, “i ain't gettin' any younger, love. and you're almost done school, so i think it's high time we start makin' a family.” his words were honey in your brain. it made you squirm. your much bigger, much older husband was asking for you to make a baby with him. 
  “someone's got baby fever.” you giggled as you placed your hand over his. the air of the car grew warmer, which made price open the window a little.  you squeaked a little bit when he gripped you harder. you felt your heart rate pick up at the feeling of his large hands on you.
he chuckled a little, as he looked at you briefly while at a stop light. he leaned in to kiss you, “of course. part of me's been thinkin' about you walking across the stage at your graduation with my little brat in your belly.” then looked back to start driving again. 
you rubbed your thighs together and felt wet at your core. you couldn't deny your husband, plus you had been subject to baby fever as well. maybe it was your body screaming for your lover. to have a part of him in you. and it wasn't like you two were being the most safe, so accidents could've happened. once back at your flat, you weren't in your clothes for long. 
price had practically ripped your skirt off of you and those large paws he called hands were groping at your plush ass with his lips on your neck.  you could feel his hard cock inside of his white briefs. the pre cum leaked through the fabric as he humped against you. he said in a heated tone, “i need it. i need her.” while made you moan then try to get your bra and panties off. you felt the heat rising in your skin, it was painfully hot for you. it excited you in ways that left you feeling hot all over. 
  “how badly, honey?”
he pulled you right up against him, his clothed cock digging into your abdomen, “more than anythin'. i need ‘er.  i need ’er stuff full. want it to smell like me for months. and if it doesn't, i'll just fill 'er up again.” he slapped your ass and watched you moan with your back arched. he groped the cheek one last time before he took his naked wife to the bedroom. 
his clothes were tossed to the side too, the t-shirt from the rugby league and basketball shorts. once everything was off, you admired your lover for a long moment. seeing all the heft and hair on him. his body that was so strong that he could easily crush you in his bicep or between his thighs. it made your core throb as you got into bed. 
  “nah, nah.” price said as he got onto the bed and grabbed your hips, “i need a deeper angle, somethin' to really show her i love you.” then patted your pussy before he gripped onto your hips once more and turned you onto your stomach. he then angled your hips up then dragged a finger across your achy slit. he chuckled, “there she is.” then leaned in to give your slick cunt a little blow, watching your hole flutter.
  “mmm please, honey.” you arched your back as you felt your husband so close to you. your hulking husband who only hours earlier was running across the field, fighting his way through the other team. his strong legs carried him and you were sitting in the stands with your thighs pressed together with need. 
price replied, “i know, i know. i know you need me” he rubbed his achy cock up against your slit, “always so good for me. knew for the moment i met ya that i wanted ya for the rest of my days.” there was an age gap between you two, but in all fairness, it turned you on even more. knowing that this handsome older man wanted to make sure that his cock was buried in you. 
when he pressed into you, your back arched. you gasped heavily into the covers as he lifted your hips further to get a better angle to sink into you. he laid over top of you, his fuzzy body up against your back. he pressed his weight onto you and kept that heavy cock of his snug inside of you. you groaned loudly, muffled by the pillows under your head. 
  “honey.” you whined as you felt the ache of his cock so deep in you. 
he got one of his hefty arms around your throat, keeping you further pinned against the bed. it wasn't hard enough to choke the lights out of ou. but enough to have pressure that made your head swim. it all felt so good and just just started. your voice was strained when price started to rut against you. his pace wasn't fast like a young stallion, but they were hard. every thrust of his hips were lazily slow but hit the back of your pussy perfectly. his cock had a thickness to it, you had carried rolls of ground beef that weighed less than his cock. not to mention the forest of pubic hair anf his breeder balls. he was a perfect man, body and all. he  took you so well. 
  “she likes me.” he said, “your pretty cunt. i bet you were thinkin' about me on the field. all dirty and roughed up, yeah. bet you wished i fucked ya right in the locker room. let the boys hear how i make my girl feel. bruise that poor pussy of yours.” he said, words hot in your heat. it made sweat settle over you.
you whimpered a little against the covers, “please, john. ah!”
he continued to fuck you, his pace was aggressive and it made you see stars. his arm was still around your throat and you could feel your pulse in your jaw. he left messy kisses on your face, leaving your cheek wet. you whimpered and clenched around his cock which only made him fuck you harder. you were such a good little wife for him. being so good to your man while he wrecked your sweet little hole. 
  "honey! please! you whimpered as you arched your back, but didn't get far due to the impressive size of your lover. you felt pinned under him, his strength. you gasped out another noise as the blunt head of his cock kept bullying your sweet insides. letting it make a huge mess of you, his cock was soaked in your wetness. it dripped down his hairy balls. he loved making his girl feel good. 
he continued to kiss your face, not quite getting your lips. his facial hair brushed against your heated skin and made you over sensitive. his mouth kept running as he kept moving. he felt hot all over, like a heat in his gut as he battered your sweet insides, “my perfect woman.  know how to take me so well. meant to take me. givin' me the privilege to make you a mama. ya like that? showin' up to uni with a little extra next semester. my dutiful little wife. keepin' up her studies while she nursing my babe.” he chuckled as he continued to keep that pussy of yours nice and filled. 
you gasped and moaned into the covers. you could be as loud as you wanted, you were in the safety of your bedroom as price rutted against you. your body was sweaty and your head was swimming. it was so painfully erotic, you felt hot all over. your heart thumped in your chest with a heavy beat as price kept moving against you. 
  “you're lucky you have the ring already. if your classmates saw you with a nice round middle, they might have gotten the wrong idea about you. that you're a dirty slag who can't keep her legs closed.” he chuckled as he licked down the sweat on the side of your neck, “dirty bird. but it's alright, we're married. you're my wife. mrs. jonathan price. about time you got a little one in your belly.” he pressed further into you and it made your head spin. his cock felt like it was pressing into your stomach. 
  “i love you.” you panted.
he finally kissed your lips, or at least the corner as he tightened his hold around your throat, “i love ya too, sweet thing. lettin' my cock bully your sweet insides. made for me, all of me. don't worry, be keepin' that womb warm for a long time. hope ya like 'em big, price boys can be a handful.” he laughed as he kissed the back of your neck. 
he was fully crowded in your space as he worked your sweet pussy. you barely had time to think before you felt the flash of orgasm through your body. it was like being engulfed in a quick heat while your body tensed up and your mind went blank. your pussy drooling on his cock, beckoning him to finish inside of you. 
a good husband always finishes in his wife. 
with a few more heavy thrusts against your limp body price finished inside of you. he pushed his cock all the way inside of you and made sure that your hips were at an angle that made it easier for you to get pregnant. he clutched onto you as he slowed down to a stop. your eyes rolled back a little as he pulled out. the loss of pressure made you whine. you weren't able to form any proper thoughts, your tongue felt heavy in your mouth as your husband rolled you onto your back and kissed you deeply on the lips. 
no need to think, mrs. price. let your rugby playing husband do all the decision making. <3
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primofate · 1 year ago
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[Genshin Impact] Sitting on his lap
Note: Watch me disappear for a long time again after this update.
Warnings: some are a bit suggestive, still safe for work though. established relationship with Genshin man, please excuse and tell me if there are pronoun slips
Premise: You just felt like sitting on his lap, nothing much to it...or so you think.
Characters: Alhaitham, Ayato, Baizhu, Cyno, Diluc, Itto, Kaeya, Lyney, Neuvillette, Scaramouche, gn!reader
Alhaitham
Continues reading his book unfazed, one arm automatically coming securely round your waist. He shuts his book after a few seconds more and passes you an upward glance.
"Need something?"
You only hum in response with a shake of your head, indicating that you had only wanted to be close to him. He sits straighter, chest pressing closer to your back. You feel the warmth of his lips press on the left side of your neck, his head tilted to gain access to it.
There's a deep inhale as he takes in your scent and a relaxed exhale that follows. You hear him whisper, voice almost a tone lower and a rare expression of affection passes his lips.
"You're intoxicating, do you know that?"
Ayato
Chuckles as you plop yourself on his lap. He had been doing some paperwork, but he pushes those aside as he wraps both arms around your middle, moving closer as his head rests on your shoulder.
"To what do I owe the pleasure?"
The usual mischievous lilt in his voice doesn't disappear, he's amused that you've taken the initiative to come look for him, even though you knew he was in the middle of something. Before you could even reply, he beats you to it, his breath tickling the shell of your ear.
"Am I right to assume that you, perhaps, missed me?"
"...and what if I did?" you counter with a smile of your own. Head turning sideways to look at him. He grins, one of his hands unravelling from your middle to travel up your face, landing on your cheek, pulling you closer to meet his soft lips.
The kiss starts off gentle, just yours on his. It starts to turn hungrier, still soft, but now it feels like hot lava is churning in your belly at the increasing intensity. He pulls away for a moment only to whisper "Then I'll have to do something about that,"
Baizhu
Looks up from his medicinal notes, taking a few seconds to gaze at your back.
The first thing you feel are his hands resting atop your shoulders, then his thumbs pressing small circles near the base of your neck. You let out a pleasurable moan, relaxing in his hold. Then, as if realizing what you'd done, your hand darts atop your mouth to hide a small laugh.
You could hear Baizhu chuckling alongside with you.
"No need to hold back, darling," his thumbs continue to press circles, now downwards along your spine, continuing his massage.
"Mmmmm..." you try to stifle the next moan coming, "This could so easily be misinterpreted by anyone passing by outside," the two of you share a short laugh yet again.
"Either way, all I'm doing is giving you some love, darling,"
Cyno
He blinks as he feels you sit on him. He was always uncomfortable with the initial position, and so what he usually did was pull you and your legs up, positioning you sideways over his lap, legs somewhat dangling over the armchair. One strong arm wrapped around your back, steadying you and allowing you to lean towards him, tucking your head under his chin.
"Is something the matter?"
You shake your head and offer a simple reply. "Nothing at all, I just wanted to be close to you,"
Your honesty always managed to tug at the edge of his lips the slightest bit. In opportunities like this Cyno didn't say much, instead he liked to savour your warmth melding with his, liked to feel your breathing in sync with his.
He silently presses a kiss atop your head before closing his eyes, and staying that way for a moment longer.
Diluc
Instead of you melting into his embrace it's Diluc who melts around you. The moment you sit on his lap his arms encircle you around your shoulders and pulls you flush against him, your back to his front.
From his position, he nuzzles into your neck and sighs, his hot breath tickling your skin. He closes his eyes and shields himself from the world for a moment, basking in the safety and love emanating from you.
"Hard day?" You ask him and he mumbles something into your neck, incoherent. He repeats it as he pulls away a slight inch.
"Not more than usual," he squeezes you around the shoulders as he says so. "and you?"
You reach a hand up to sift through his hair, he sighs at the feeling and nearly melts into a puddle. "Nothing out of the ordinary," you return his sentiment.
You play with his hair as he holds you close, and in that moment there really isn't much for him to say, though his heart bursts with emotion and fondness towards you.
"Stay with me, Y/N," he makes this request from time to time, and though the two of you have already sworn yourselves to each other, perhaps he needed to say it once in a while in order to hear the answer from you.
"I'll always be here, Diluc,"
Itto
The oni is rather cluless in certain aspects of life, but when you sit on his lap he's guaranteed to be flustered. You prop yourself on his thighs, hands positioned on his legs to keep you from falling in case he made any sudden movements.
"Y-Y-Y/N?!"
"Hm?" You innocently ask, tipping your head back to playfully look at his reddening cheeks. "...Shouldn't you be used to this by now?" you ask, a laugh threatening to escape your lips because of the look on his face.
"I-Well-*ahem* Sure I am!" He puts on a brave face, but he looks like he's also sweating bullets. His hands are stiffly by his side, and he's hesitant to touch you anywhere.
You decide to comfortably lean back and Itto could not think of anything except how warm and soft you were compared to him. He had to get it together, this happened every time you sat on his lap, and it was becoming uncool for him to keep blushing when you did so. He promised himself that he would "man up".
...He still had the same reaction the next time you did it.
Kaeya
Kaeya reacts as if this was an every day thing, in fact this was always a good opportunity to flirt with you.
"Found your favourite spot have you?" Kaeya twists around to peer at you, grin plastered on his face, hand finding your thigh.
"It was tempting, you were just sitting there and it looked like a good place to rest," You returned his grin and felt his chest rumble with laughter.
"You're always welcome, snowflake," his hand squeezes your thigh, eye seemingly glinting with mischief. He shifts around on his seat, making space in between his legs and pulling you right between them, arms tight around your waist, front pressing against your back. "But you'll have to pay a small fee for this exclusive seat, I'm afraid,"
He tilts his head down to gaze at you expectantly, seemingly leaning closer. You smile, tilting your head up for you lips to meet. Kaeya doesn't half ass his kisses. It turns passionate in a split second and his hands are starting to wander up and down your thigh.
"Tsk, tsk," you let out as you part, your noses still connected, gazes steady on each other. "Are you sure it's just a kiss you want, sir?"
He chuckles, "Love, when have we ever stopped at just a kiss?"
Lyney
"Hm?" Lyney chides with a smile as he feels you become comfortable on his lap. He laughs when he realizes that you were not planning on leaving anytime soon. "Hello there my rose," His arms wrap around your waist, and his head rests on your back, snuggling into the warmth of it. He looks almost like a cat purring and rubbing onto their favourite scratching post.
It tickles you the slightest bit, so you bristle with soft laughter. "Lyney!" You warn, and he returns your sunny laugh with a chuckle, but doesn't let go.
"What's wrong, love?" He feigns innocence but now has resorted to placing butterfly kisses up and down your spine, taking a moment to lightly nip at the back of your neck before kissing back down again in a line.
By now you know he's doing it on purpose, so you twist around on his lap, and give him a half-hearted glare. "If you wanted kisses all you had to do was ask,"
Lyney finally pulls back and smirks, that same smirk that shows up when he's at the climax of a magic trick, about to reveal the grandest part. He leans back on the chair he's sitting on, placing both arms on the rests before lifting a hand up, wrists flicking upwards in a motion to beckon you over. "Well come now," the same hand tilts your chin gently towards his direction as he whispers, tongue briefly grazing over his lips, "Let me show you a real magic trick,"
Neuvillette
Neuvillette embraces you in and it almost feels like you're floating on a cloud, weightlessly relaxing in the air. His clothes help to cushion you, but at the same time Neuvillette himself is as warm as a fireplace and comfy as a sea of feathers. It feels safe in the arms of the Chief Justice, as if no harm will come to you. Sometimes you forget that you're in the presence of such an important man.
You almost always end up sliding down the slightest bit, the back of your head resting on his chest, his arm secured around your stomach. "Would you like to retire for the day?" he asks, and this is his code to ask you if you would like for him to stop working and walk back home with you.
"No, don't mind me," you whisper, burrowing further into him. You hear him sigh contentedly. With you, Neuvillette is lovestruck. Whatever is within his power, he would do it for you. He takes your hand and briefly presses his lips on the back of it. "Alright," and just like that he brings the paperwork back into his hands. Reading his notes and documents--highly confidential, by the way. Something that you shouldn't be reading--but he trusts you more than he trusts himself and that was dangerous, for someone like him.
If there ever came a day where you broke his trust, Neuvillette would most likely never trust another soul again. You alone was his deity of truth.
Scaramouche...Ruthless Prince Scaramouche?
"Whadd'you think you're doing?" his eye twitches as you jump on his lap. You glance backwards at him before turning away once again. "Getting comfy," you reply nonchalantly.
"Getting com--" the rest of the words were mumbled, you didn't catch the whole thing but it did sound like he said a very garbled and muffled "my ass" at the end of it. You ignore him and happily stay, humming as you read a book while you're at it.
Scaramouche glares at your back, taking a deep, long breath. For a moment he contemplated on just letting you do it, but the other part of him wanted to just push you off and let your butt painfully land on the ground.
As you were peacefully reading, you suddenly feel his forehead bump your back, though he wasn't holding nor hugging you at all. He stayed like that for a bit, as if he was praying to some God he believed--or didn't believe--in. After a moment he grumbles something more, but now has a firm arm around your waist.
He repositions, opening his legs a bit more to give you more space to rest in between them and then leaning forward to lazily loll his head on your shoulder, looking at the book you were reading. "...What trash are you reading now?" but his tone of voice had levelled off to calm, nearly peaceful.
"...101 ways to annoy your husband," you secretly grin when you hear him scoff. His hand finds its way to the spine of the book you're reading and easily grabs and flings it off to the side.
"You do that plenty, you don't need more ideas," his hold on you gets a little tighter, as if he wasn't going to let you go anytime soon. "Y'know what I've been reading lately...?" you feel his lips against your neck in a chaste kiss but in the next moment you feel a slight nip that sends electricity down your whole being.
"Hm?" You ask absentmindedly, the question doesn't completely register in your mind, what with his hand edging closer to the hem of your shirt, brushing against the bare skin of your waist. He breathes the next words into your ear huskily, his hand sliding upwards, and you feel a shiver making its way to your shoulders.
"101 ways to make you scream,"
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guppybibi · 2 months ago
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Simon is a stealthy man, obviously—it's required for his job. Though the fact isn't quite true when it comes to proposals. You could clearly tell what he had in store for you the moment he coincidentally didn't have any work to do when the weather was just right and when he suggested that it was the perfect time of year to propose relax and go on vacation to anywhere you'd like.
Of course, you play along obliviously and decide to go to a tropical place that you've been eyeing for a while now. Simon wasn't complaining about your choice either, a chance to watch the sunset together and see you in a cute swimsuit? Sign him up!
So he books you two a tropical getaway, and insists that you should use his card to go shopping for a nice little dress, yeah? What's your ring size too, love? For future reference..nothing else.
~
The trip so far has been nothing but perfect, the plane surprisingly had enough leg space so Simon was comfortable the whole time. No turbulence either, it was like God was on Simon's side this time.
When you two arrive at your destination, the fresh breeze gladly greets you and the sun's heat is making beads of sweat form on your forehead already. It seemed like the heat had the same effect on Simon as well, although he was sweating more profusely than you for some reason..He'd never tell but he was insanely nervous right now, it felt like his guts were being turned inside out over and over again.
Everything does go smoothly, you two arrive at the hotel he reserved, quickly changing into your swimsuits since you couldn't wait to go out there and take a stroll around the beach. Maybe collect some seashells as a souvenir, build sandcastles or get a tan, do whatever you want, princess. Simon's going to be right beside you the whole time, glaring sharp daggers at anyone who even dares to look at you in the wrong way. Was it too much and completely unnecessary? Maybe, but you could never be too safe in these times. Creeps were always everywhere, casually walking around in broad daylight, hidden in plain sight.
Every single thing you wanted to do or get, was done and bought. You had to say, you were pretty surprised when Simon wasn't making any sarcastic comments about how he wasn't a money dispenser. Not even batting an eye when you got something from a clear tourist scam, weird. But hey, you're really in no place to complain here. Plus, money comes back, but the memories you and Simon will make here won't.
~
Hand in hand, step by step, you and Simon walk by the shore, your eyes full of adoration as you tried tracing the glow of the sun's light on Simon's face. You couldn't tell what was more breathtaking, the landscape or the man in front of you? The sun was bound to set soon, though it never really rests, you couldn't even imagine being the sun, working nonstop with no breaks is a big no no.
Quite ironic since in Simon's eyes, you were technically his sun. You were the center of his world, everything was peaceful when he was around you. Unlike when he's in the military, it always feels like he's out of orbit.
He has to do it, his heart can't contain it anymore. He has to propose, he's going to propose. Right here, right now. It was the perfect moment, the sunset peering, maybe a few folks watching but Simon couldn't give a damn about them. This was about you.
"Love," he calls out, stuffing his hand into his pocket to get the ring box. You snap back to reality, tilting your head in acknowledgement. You were taken aback by the sight of him kneeling on one knee, holding out a box with a shiny ring inside that you were barely able to hear the words, "Will you marry me?".
Without hesitation, you scream out "Yes!" at the top of your lungs, leaving Simon chuckling, still not getting up. "Wait up, luv. I prepared a message for you, mind if I tell you it first?" You were still jumping around the place, looking like you were about to bounce off to outer space. Once you manage to collect your excitement, you nodded, preparing yourself to hear Simon's message to you.
It was all about how you were the light of his life, all of that. It was short and sweet, not unnecessarily long but truly from the heart.
It's safe to say that the both of you went home from that trip with a big grin on your faces.
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 5 months ago
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okay so,,i got an ask but instead of saving it i posted it unfinished like a dumbass so i had to delete AUGHHH anon man i hope you’re still sticking around n tysm for the ask :((( if you saw this earlier you’re a hacker bc I deleted that AT LIGHTNING SPEED anyways hope yall enjoy <3
Fem reader (boobs), fluff, katsu n reader in their 20s, katsuki is nyasty and a big baby, nakedness and such, katsuki talks about boobies soo suggestive i think?? just to be safe :3
request : i saw this video on tiktok before and thought it was so cute! it was a girl pranking her boyfriend by telling him to leave the room so she could change and he was just so confused, was wondering if u could do that with bkg 🥹 <33
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right now, katsuki bakugo is about 99% convinced that there's a stranger in his house.
that, or you're mad at him.
"what ?" he asks again for what he knows is once too many, because you giggle. he feels your hand press against his chest, keeping him from following you into your bedroom. you're all smiles.
"i said, i'm changing."
“..so ?”
"so," you copy, making your voice gruff and nasally in a way that's making his nose scrunch. "you. wait outside." you dig your finger into his firm chest to accentuate your point, talking slowly like he's a dog. katsuki's eyebrows furrow harder.
clearly, you take him for a joke.
"you know i've already seen you naked before, right?"
you splutter at his bluntness and usually it'd make him smirk to see the effect he has on you. You cross your arms over your chest that you're trying to keep him from seeing for some reason. "yes, i know that, thanks for reminding me."
without missing a beat, he grabs both of your arms and pulls them apart, pulling a gasp from you. he's always had this weird trigger with crossed arms. he pulls you closer to him until you're firm to his chest and leans forward.
"so, there's nothin' you gotta hide from me." his voice his gravelly the lower he speaks, half lidded eyes looking you up and down, you do your best not to look too bothered.
" 'm not hiding anything, promise." you wiggle your hands out of his grip to lift them up in surrender. katsuki grumbles, you smirk "i just don't want you following me everywhere."
he leans back like you'd hit him, like you'd popped him straight on his mouth, eyes wide and mouth agape "what the-so what i can't walk around in my own damn house?!"
"and you always happen to be walking where i'm going ? conveniently ?" you cross your arms again, hobbling a bit away from your boyfriend so he couldn't pull the stunt from a few seconds ago.
katsuki, now that you’re out of reach, copies you and throws his beefy arms over each other. “i dunno if you noticed, but this place isn’t that fuckin’ huge. everywhere leads to the same place.” he squints when you giggle with a roll of your eyes.
“uhuh, that’s why you somehow end up in the bathroom just watching me. it’s all connected.” you sass, and you managed to dodge katsuki’s fingers attempting to wedge themselves into your sides with a squeal. you grip at the door in warning.
“i’m slamming this in your face !” you warn, pulling the door open and back to taunt him. he stares at you for a few more seconds before he scoffs, rolls his eyes, and groans dramatically . his arms flop to accentuate how much your denial irritates him.
“fine. since you fuckin’ hate being with me so bad, don’t even know why yer ass even moved in then..” you giggle at his not so quiet mutterings, grabbing his arm you pull him toward you
“i was joking, big baby, you can come in.”
katsuki blinks at you, eyebrows furrowed. then his head drops and he shakes it, hair tussling around as he sighs loudly. you laugh and when he’s finally past the door, he pinches you.
“fuckin’ dumbass, thought you grew a third tit an’ didn’t want me to see or something.”
you spin around, smacking his arms causing him to cackle meanly at you.
“you’re such a child.” you huff, “i shouldn’t have let you in here.” you mutter, kicking off your pants. katsuki snickers behind you, you can practically sense he’s about to say something stupid.
“aw, ‘m flattered baby. ya want me to see your third tittie ?” katsuki swiftly dodges the sweatpants you’d launched at him, continuing to laugh. goddamn pro hero reflexes.
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hvhvmoc · 3 months ago
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♡♡♡
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Characters : Art the Clown (Terrifier), afab!reader
Warnings/CW : blood, talks about murder, domesticity, HARD smut, overstimulation, spanking, hair pulling, squirting, oral (f! Receiving), Art himself, silly stuff, cussing, reader has a poochina, a lot of words, etc etc
A/N : IM BACK and OBSESSED with Art rn yall r gunna get sm of this clown omgggg (he looks so hot in that gif)
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It's 8:50pm.
You're laying on your couch, your head on one armrest, your feet resting on the cushion. You're dressed in your pajamas, a soda on the coffee stand and a bag of chips in your arms. You watch your favorite show on the TV. Almost every light is off around you, which would scare anyone. Especially where you live, and knowing what- rather whos- been creeping around the streets recently. Lucky for you, you're dating him. So you'd say you're pretty safe. At least you hope so. The only light on is a small kitchen light, and the light coming from the TV screen.
There was three knocks at your front door, which was a couple feet away from where you're laying down. You recognized those knocks. "It's open!" You shout and shove some chips into your mouth. The door opens, revealing your murderous clown boyfriend, Art. He walks in, a frown on his face for a second before his grin returns. He shuts and locks the door behind him and he drops his bag full of weapons by the couch.
Art walks up to you happily and reaches over to hug you. That's when the familiar (too familiar) smell of blood hits your nose and you stop Art from hugging you. You get a better look at him, now realizing that he's covered in blood. The clown sulks a bit when he's rejected affection. "Babe, you need to shower."
Art rolls his eyes and leans back a little in the process, putting his hands up in a fake surrender. He looks side to side a couple times before he tries to hug you again, huffing dramatically when you again, refuse to touch him. "Go shower and we can cuddle." His mouth forms an "O" shape and his eyes widen. He nods vigorously and turns on his heels and speeds to the bathroom. You laugh and focus back on the TV and your snacks.
♡♡♡
After a while, you're still laying on the couch, sipping your soda and eating from your almost-finished bag of chips. Suddenly, right next to your ear, a loud squeak sound startles you. You jump (or if you're like me, you scream too) and look behind you where the noise was. And there he was; your boyfriend. He leaned back in silent laughter, pointing at you, still holding the horn he loves so much that he used to scare you.
You roll your eyes and laugh with him a little. Instead of his usual clown attire, he has a black T-shirt on, with the word "cunt" across the chest in white and black sweatpants. He still has his usual clowny makeup on, just now it's cleaned of blood. When laughter dies down, Art suddenly lunges at you, hugging you over the couch, tightly. You hug his arm. "Come around so we can cuddle." He instantly shoots up and scrambles to walk around the couch. You didn't have time to fully open your arms before he laid down on you. His arms wrap around you and he nuzzles his face in your chest.
You wrap your arms around Art, just as tightly as his arms wrap around you. His hands slide down your back and to your ass, a huge grins on his face, thought he's not looking at you. You let him feel you up and watch the TV. Until you feel Art squeeze your ass a couple times. He finally looks up, his shit-eating grin not leaving his face. "Art-" you look down at him. He maintains eye contact with you as he gives you a couple more squeezes, wiggling his eyebrows a little.
You press your cheek against his head and laugh a little with him. "I love you," you tell him softly. He squeezes you tighter and kisses your collarbone. "Do you love me too?" He nods vigorously as a response, then sits up a little, outstretching his arms, seeming to say "this much", his smile not leaving his face. You smile up at him and he collapses again into your arms, squeezing you tight.
You continue to watch TV as Art snuggles against you, clinging onto you and locking his eyes onto your face; not once looking at the TV. You play with the tag on the back- inside of his shirt as his arms stay fully wrapped around your waist, forcing your back to arch a bit. You look over at the clock. 9:56 pm.
"Baby," you reach for the remote and turn off the TV and sit up a bit, "lets go to bed." Art wiggles his eyebrows at that and you just scoff as a reply. He gets up and so do you. Art bends his elbow to you, offering to hold your arm, almost like a butler would to the princess. His other hand on his hip and he continues to smile widely. You hook your arm into his and he happily guides you both to your shared bedroom. He opens the bedroom door and reaches in to find the lightswitch, his tongue sticking out in an almost cartoonish manner of concentration. His smile returns when he flicks on the light and he fully opens the door, let's go of your arm, and gestures you in, in a "ladies first" kind of manner. You tiredly laugh and walk into the room. Art shut the door behind him when he enters too.
You tear off your bra and pull down your pants, then climb under the covers. Art climbs into bed with you, immediately snuggling close to you, burying his face in your neck. After a while, he pulls away and points at his cheek. "Kiss?" He nods and you kiss where he pointed. He turns his face to show his other cheek, pointing to it too, and you kiss it. He turns again and points to the cheek you kissed first and you lean in to kiss it again, when he moves his head at the last minute, making you kiss his lips. He silently laughs, pointing at you, silently saying "gotcha!". "Hey!" You laugh.
You flip eachother over, getting on top of him. His mouth forms an "O" shape for a second before his grin returns and he wiggles his eyebrows, his hands tracing your back. "If you wanted a kiss, you could've just asked." You kiss his lips and Art immediately presses his hand on the back of your head, tilting his head opposite of yours. You hum as you two kiss. You pulled away from the kiss, which makes Art frown, and he pushes you back into his lips. You smile and laugh a little bit kiss him back.
Arts hand goes down once again, giving your ass a playful squeeze. After a while of kissing, you two pull away and you lay on his side, looking up at him. How you loved this man. This sick, sick man. You both look at eachothers eyes, the only sound being heard is your breathing and an occasional car driving past coming for outside. You can't even hear him breathe. It's not like he's human anyway.
Art blows you a kiss, which you reply back with the back of your hand against your forehead, in a dramatic fashion, throwing your head back. Art holds you closely and buries his face into your neck, grinning. He looks at you, an eyebrow raised, as he slips his hand under your underwear, his hand now on your bare ass. When you look at him, silently questioning him, his eyebrow raises further up. "..finee." you roll your eyes and smile down at him.
Arts eyes light up instantly and he gets on top of you. He kisses your neck, rougher than his other kisses earlier that night. He grabs onto your hips and hoists you up so your head lays against the headboard, his body between your legs. Art dips his head down between your legs and bites your pantyline and tugs it off with his teeth, and painfully slow. He maintains eye contact the whole time and when you lock eyes with him, he wiggles his eyebrows in a playful manner, which you reply back with a breathy laugh.
Art pushes your legs back as far as they can comfortably go. He finally breaks eye contact to stare down at your pussy, licking his lips in an- again- almost cartoonish manner. He stays staring at it for seconds too long, making you look away a little embarrassed, feeling too exposed for too long now. Suddenly he dives in, not even going easy first. Your thighs tremble and you moan in suprise, your hands grabbing onto the bedsheets. Art goes from roughly sucking on your clit, shoving his tongue into you, and making out with your pussy, roughly moving his head side to side as he does. He occasionally looks up to watch your reaction to his movements, then looks back down at your pussy. He pulls away, making you look down at him. He uses one hand to point at the hand holding your legs apart. You caught the gist, replaces his hands on the back of your knees, opening your legs, with yours.
Once his hands are free, he licks his lips again and dives back in. Art uses his thumbs to spread you open, giving him more access. He goes faster and faster and you moan louder and louder. Your thighs tremble and Art continues eating you out. Art pulls away every so often, licking around your pussy, your inner thighs, and your ass; licking up your juices. He locks his lips around your clit and sucks roughly, moving his head side to side.
You moan louder and louder, warning him of your upcoming orgasm. He continues his movements, his hands gripping your hips and pressing his mouth impossibly closer to you. You grip onto your own thighs as your head rolls back, as your orgasm hits you like a train. You moan loudly, calling out his name, your legs threatening to close but your strong grip on them keeps them open. Art slows down just a little bit, but does stop. You squirm a little from the overstimulation as he continues.
After another minute of Art making out with your pussy, he pulls away, sitting up. His eyes stay locked on your pussy, his fingers teasing and tracing it. His hand goes to your thigh as you let go of your legs and they relax. Art grabs your chin, roughly but not enough to hurt, and he looks at you darkly. That stare would've scared anybody. But you've gotten used to it. You can tell what his eyes are telling you, rather than what his mouth can't. He kisses you roughly, and you taste yourself on his lips. How you're not covered in his face paint is beyond you. Maybe it's not face paint. Maybe it's just his face. Who knows?
Art pulls down his pants as he kisses you, your arms wrapped around his neck. He keeps his pants still on, but pulls it down just enough to where his dick is now exposed. He gives you no warning before he enters you, then wasting no time to start moving. You struggle to kiss him back, while you moan louder than you did when he ate you out a couple minutes ago. His hands grip your hips and he fucks into you roughly. You grip onto his arms as your back arches. Art bites down onto your neck, occasionally kissing it too.
Your head starts to go fuzzy as he continues his almost brutal pace, your hands on his back now, nails digging into his back. "Art...art- baby..." you moan out, making him look up at you. His expression looks relaxed but hungry, which was rare but not unusual. "Faster...I want more... give me everything you have..-!" You begged, but before you can finish your sentence, Art does exactly what you asked of him.
His pace is almost unhuman, and brutal. But really, that's all he is: unhuman and brutal. But it hurts so good. Your legs try to close, but with Arts body between them, they stay open. His eyes never leave your face as he continues. His signature grin returns- with no time for you to question the sudden expression change- and he delivers a couple rougher, harder thrusts into you, going deeper and deeper into you with each prolonged thrust.
You look up at him and he silently laughs before diving back in to attack your neck, and his fast, hard thrust come back. Your brain feels fuzzy, to the point where you're now just babbling nonsense into his ear as you moan. Your eyes roll back and your thighs tremble. After a bit of Art raming into you, seemingly, unmercifully and attacking your neck, you again warn him of your upcoming orgasm. His movements don't slow down, or speed up, as you cum for the second time that night. Even when the feeling subsides, he doesn't stop. He doesn't even slow down. He just sits up and looks into your eyes as he overstimulates you, again.
He picks up your legs, pressing your knees on either side of your chest as he continues. Drool collects a little on the corner of your mouth. You grip onto his arms as he (borderline creepily) smiles at you, showing no signs of stopping. You couldn't tell if you wanted to beg for more, or beg for mercy. "Art! Fuuuck!" You borderline scream, your nails digging into his arms as you cum again, this time squirting, making a mess on his shirt- that he was still wearing- ,his pants, and the bedsheets under you.
Art looks down as you make the mess, almost like in a trance. Your legs tremble in his grasp and he finally stops. He pulls out and looks up at you tired, fucked out face. His face looked suprise and points to the mess. "What?" You question, panting. He looks between your mess and your face a couple times, surprised. Art grins and flips you over to your stomach. You lay your head on pillows as Art lifts your hips up. His hands never leaves your hips, knowing your wobbly legs wouldn't be able to hold yourself up.
He enters you once again, making you moan, this time muffled by the pillow. His harsh pace from before starts up again and your eyes roll back and back arches. You moan loudly- again muffled by the pillow- as he continues. After a while, it seemed like Art didn't like how the pillow muffled your moans, so he digs his hand into your hair and pulls your head back. You continue moaning, blabbering his name, along with nonsense.
In the midst of your incoherent blabbering, you begged him for more, which he caught onto. Art throws your head back into the pillow and grip your hips harder. He goes harder, matching his speed, so much that it hurts. You moan loudly and your legs threaten to give out but Art keeps you on your knees. You turn to your head to look back at him, and he's grinning, like usual, looking at your reaction.
Art let's go of one of your hips, his hand roughly smacking your ass as he continues. When he heard your loud moan of a response, he deliveres another rough hit to the same spot. And another. And another. And a final one. He massages the spot he abused, not slowing down his thrusts for a second. You mutter to him that you're close and he continues his pace against you. You moan loudly as you cum, again.
And like everytime, he doesn't stop when you came. You reach back and grab onto his hand. He keeps going with his pace you again, make a mess on him and the bed. Your moans now sounding more broken and tired, but still loud. Even after you squirt for the second time tonight, Art didn't stop. He keeps his harsh pace until you feel him finish inside you and pulls out. Your body relaxes, but tenses up again when Art shoves two of his fingers into you, moving them in a rough pace.
You let out broken, sob-like moans as he continues, your thighs shaking. He keeps his pace steady and harsh until he sees you starting to squirt again. He quickly pulls out, and dives his face into your pussy as you cum, drinking your fluids. He grips onto your thighs as he cleans you up and sits up, finally. He flips you over so you're on your back, and stares at you face; red, lips puffy, eyes wet, and the corners of your mouth wet too (whether that be from drool and from he made out with you after he ate you out).
Art points at his now wet shirt, pants and the bedsheets, then pointing an accusing finger at you, moving his hands to rest on his hips as he nods, like a disappointed parent. "Your fault," you tiredly spit back. Art throws his hands up in a fake surrender and leans back a little and rolls his eyes. "Go change you're wet-" He grins at that. "That's what she said," You speak for him. Arts grin stays on his face as he gets up from the bed and changes clothes. Once he's changed and you slip your underwear back on, he crawls back into bed with you, covering the two of you in your blanket. He hugs you tightly, his grip more innocent now, his head on your chest. He traces a heart on your back, his own way of saying "I love you".
"I love you too," you whisper to him and he holds you tighter. "...so much." You mutter before falling asleep in his arms. Legs hurt, stomach aches, brains static, but hey, you're laying in bed with a torturous, brutal killer clown and you're alive. And loved by him. And every "pain" he does give you is always in bed. And you love it. ♡
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I'm sorry if there's spelling mistakes I wrote this at 11pm, fell asleep, and finished it when I woke up 😭😭
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shadow4-1 · 9 months ago
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I'm just imagining having spent the night with a lover who isn't in the 141, only to wake up the next morning and there's in intervention waiting for you in the rec room.
Like, at first you're just confused. But when Price opens his mouth to ask you about how you slept...you have a bit of a meltdown. Why does it matter? Why is everyone staring at you? What's going on?
Soap grabs the collar of your t-shirt and pulls it down so everyone can get a look at the dark hickies dotting your neck. You slap his hand away, tears in your eyes.
"So all of you can do whatever you want? Sneak bitches on base and fuck around at all the bars we pass through! But I'm not allowed to do anything with someone I actually like?!"
It hurts. It feels like you're being stripped bare in front of them.
Price sighs, his gaze softens. It's obvious he doesn't want to have this conversation but something you've done has given him no choice. Soap just stands a few feet away, chest puffed out, eyeing you with a strange annoyance. You know if you try to leave he'll stop you.
"You are...not in the same position as us." Price tries and winces. He's obviously not putting his thoughts into soft enough words, but he continues. "You are...it is our responsibility to keep you safe."
"Safe? You're trying to keep me safe?" Your voice is raised higher than you've ever raised it at Price. "Safe by what? Fighting off all the guys at the bars? Safe by spreading lies about me to all of the PMCs and the other Task Forces?"
Price just closed his eyes and set his jaw. He had to know about the subterfuge you'd been experiencing for well over a couple years now. Everyone in the room was guilty as charged.
"You're and asset. And you're also a liability." Ghost speaks up, eyes narrowed, stance way too relaxed against the metal folding chair he sits in. "Do you remember what happened to the 7th Division?"
Saliva pools in your mouth, a sudden queasiness filling your stomach. Yeah, of course you remembered. Their beloved medic had been kidnapped by a group of angry drug lords using a mercenary group as their muscle. The 7th Division had gone in guns blazing to get their member back and well...they'd been wiped out. And their star medic they'd sacrificed everything for? She'd been brainwashed and inducted into the very agency that stole her away.
KORTAC
"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" You mutter. "Please tell me you're not."
"We can't have you fraternizing with anyone." Price states smoothly. "As our medic, you have a responsibility to us, your team. We can't have you getting caught up in something bigger."
"I understand what you're saying, but can't you see how ridiculous this is?" You try to reason. "I'm human, I have- god this is embarrassing. I h-have wants and...needs, just like you guys."
The silence is loud. You can't meet anyone's gaze. Price steps closer to you, swallowing hard. His next few words are spoken softly, conspiratorially.
"All of your needs will be taken care of. We will never let you suffer by yourself."
Price cocks his head to the men before you both. All of them straighten beneath his gaze. Price places a hand on the small of your back.
"Whatever it takes." He commands them. "I better not hear or see anything. Do I make myself clear?"
A trio of "yessirs" bounce off the white walls. Price just smiles and nods. He pats your back.
"There we go. You'll be fine." He sighs. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to talk to your guest."
Your eyes widen, your throat drops into your stomach.
"Wait!"
"We've got ye, Bonnie. You n' all yer needs."
Six hands are on you from several different angles. Their massive frames block out the fluorescent lights.
"Ah, where are you goin'?" Gaz chuckles, his arm wraps around your belly.
You try to run after Price but the rec room door is slammed shut and locked. You try to push the closest man away, but he just grins down at you.
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ofstarsandvibranium · 3 months ago
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Coffee Crossfire: Part 2
Fandom: Marvel (Mob Boss AU)
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Summary: You own a cafe in Brooklyn, Bucky Barnes’ territory. You occasionally let him hold meetings in the cafe after hours and things usually go well….but not this time.
Part 1
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Your anger and frustration towards Bucky fizzled out after two days. You knew that it really wasn't his fault the cafe got shot up. He told you firsthand when you bought the property of the risks of having a business in his territory. But he always reassured you that whatever damage happens, he'd take care of it.
Like a true mob boss, he kept his word.
Even with his busy schedule, he came in every day to help oversee the work that was being done. He wasn't much help though. You'd tell his men what to do, what goes where, how things should look, etc. He just pays for everything.
However, when some of the new tables and chairs came in, you put Bucky to work.
While everyone was working in the front, you and Bucky assembled the furniture towards the back of the cafe. Bucky looked at the instructions and let out a breath of relief, "Thank god these have written out instructions. Not like other instructions where it's all pictures. Shit gets confusing."
You snicker as you lay out the pieces by their labelled sticker, "Honestly, these shouldn't be too hard to do. They're similar to the ones I had before."
"Ready when you are, boss," Bucky says with a smile.
You snort, "Never thought I'd hear you call anyone else 'boss'."
He shrugs, "You're the only one I'll listen to, sugar," he gives you a wink and you look away as your cheeks start to heat up.
You can't deny that Bucky is attractive, funny, and charming. He's also sweet and intimidating, but also caring. Sure what he does isn't lawful in any means, however, he cares for everyone in his family's territory. He knows everyone by name, helps them when they ask, and make sure everyone's protected and safe.
You told yourself when you first met him not get close to him, but years later, you know you're more than close to Bucky. You two are attached to the hip. At first, you considered him as a friend, but in the most recent years, you've started to see him as more. That scares you a little.
You moved to Brooklyn to get away from those feelings and here you are, right back to where you were. All because of Bucky Barnes.
You love him. You know you truly do, you're just not sure if he feels the same. Sure he flirts with you, but he doesn't mean it. You've seen him flirt with a bunch of other people too, so it definitely doesn't mean anything when he flirts with you.
"Sugar, gimme a hand?" he breaks you from your thoughts.
"Sure," you move closer to him, "What do you need?"
"Just hold these two pieces together while I screw this in."
"M'kay," you hold to pieces of a chair together, and Bucky twists the screwdriver to secure them in place. Your face is close to his, you smell the coffee on his breath and his expensive cologne. You see the bags under his eyes and it makes you frown.
"There. Than-what's with the frown?"
"You haven't been sleeping well," when he looks at you confused, you point to his face, "the bags under your eyes. Bucky, you should be at home resting, not spending early mornings with me here."
"It's fine, sugar."
"No, it's not. You should be well rested because you have a lot of work to do-"
"And they're getting done, just not all by me. Things are getting handled, Y/N, don't worry. I wanna be here."
"Why? Nothing much for you to do here. Your guys have it covered."
He shrugs, "Just in case you need me or," he gestures to the furniture pieces, "need someone to help you build furniture." He smiles when you giggle. His heart flutters, "I'll be here every day until you tell me to fuck off."
"But why?" you genuinely ask him in curiosity.
He looks away from you and at the half-assembled chair in front of him, "Because I do what I can for the people I love." He then clears his throat and goes back to assembling the chair.
You stare at him in disbelief. He loves you. Bucky Barnes just said he loves you. He-
Bucky's phone starts ringing and he answers it. He hugs it between his ear and his shoulder as he screws in another piece of the chair, "Yeah?" He listens to the caller and lets out a long sigh, "Alright. I'll be over in a bit. Keep 'em awake. Bye."
You look at him with concern, "Everything okay?"
"Got more info on the guys who shot us up. Need to meet with Romanoff." Bucky grunts as he stands, pocketing his phone. His runs a hand through his brunette locks, "If you're still here when I'm done, I'll come back. Maybe I can get you some food since I know you don't eat when you get too busy."
You stand, meeting his gaze, a soft smile on your lips. Bucky knows you so well and you can't believe its taken you this long to see how he truly feels.
"Bucky?"
"Yeah?"
You lean in, pressing your lips to his in a gentle kiss. He's frozen in place and by the time he registers what's happening, you pull away, "I love you. Thank you for always taking care of me and being there for me."
"I, uh-" his face starts turning pink, "Ye-Yeah. Of course, sugar. I-shit." He hides his face in his hands and you can't help but laugh. You've turned The White Wolf of Brooklyn into blubbering, blushing mess.
He drops his hands from his face and he's smiling wide, "You love me? Really?"
"I do. I've loved you for a long time. I-I always hoped you felt the same. I thought you did with the flirting and how you were always there for me. But I'd see you do the same with others so I figured-"
He shakes his head, "No, sugar. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I was so confusing. I-shit, Y/N, everything I do and say is because I love you. I love you so fucking much. I'd burn the world for you," he steps closer, placing his hands on your hips, nose grazing yours.
"For a big scary mobster, you're quite the softie, aren't you?"
"Don't let the guys know. It'd ruin my reputation," he murmurs, leaning in for another kiss.
"It's fine. We already know," Steve says as he stands there with his arms across his chest and a smirk on his face.
Bucky frowns, "Way to ruin the mood, Rogers."
Steve shrugs, "Sorry, but we have some important stuff to attend to."
"Yeah, yeah, I know," Bucky steps away with a pout, "Sugar-"
You pull him back in for a kiss and he's quick to kiss you back this time. You then break the kiss with a grin, "Go take care of business, boss."
Bucky is a little dizzy and has a goofy grin on his face, "You got it, boss." He pecks your lips one last time and then steps away, "Got another reason to call you sugar now."
"Yeah?"
He nods, "'Cause your lips taste so sweet," he says with a wink and follows Steve out of the cafe.
You're not sure how you can get back to work after that kiss and confession. But you'll have to do your best!
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shotmrmiller · 1 year ago
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When Johnny takes Simon to his home, and you open the door, Simon's heart stops beating. You direct that lovely smile he's fallen in love with at Johnny as you hug him and usher him inside. Simon's frozen in place, his body refusing to move, because gods, you're a fucking dream.
And then you turn your attention towards him, with ruddy cheeks and pink lips and a delicate neck he could easily wrap his hand around—
"You must be Simon!" and his cock starts to stir. All you said was his name, in that angelic voice of yours, and his blood started to rush to his groin.
When you move to wrap your arms around him in an embrace, he finally breaks from his trance and returns it. Barely. It's awkward— one arm coming up to inelegantly pat your upper back a little too hard, and the other stiff at his side. But you seem completely unbothered, just giving him one last squeeze and step back, holding both of his arms in your dainty hands, and you say, "It's great to meet the one that keeps my Johnny safe. Now, come on in, make yourself at home!"
Simon timidly walks inside, and closes the door behind him, and utters, "Thank you for lettin' me stay here."
The joyful laughter you let out sends exquisite prickles up his spine. "He actually speaks! I'm surprised, Johnny said it took a bit for you to warm up to others," and you give another stomach-fluttering giggle. "You're welcome here any time, Simon. Now let me take you to the room you'll be staying in."
Simon has to carry his duffle bag in front of him as you lead him to the guest room to cover the throbbing erection he's got. When you leave him to freshen up, he wastes no time in pulling his jeans down and taking himself in his hand, stroking firmly. When his imagination paints a picture of you wearing an apron while cooking a meal for him, his vision blurs as he climaxes.
--
Simon knows he's atypical. He has no real decorum. He tells piss-poor dark jokes, inadvertently stares at people when he's lost in thought— and since he's been here, Simon likes to shadow you.
But you don't seem to mind any of it. You laugh at his jokes, the ones Johnny never fails to scoff in disgust at, you tilt your head innocently towards him, silently questioning his intense gaze — and it's so fucking adorable that he's come to that look 8 times in the last 3 days— and you always ask him to reach for things that are out of your reach because you know he's around. (Johnny made a joke once, said that you're being haunted by a ghost, and the quip you replied with as you came to his defense had him dizzy.)
His favorite thing about you though, is how unafraid you are of him. You had rounded a corner and saw his skull mask for the first time, and had you been like any other woman, you would've been startled. But you hadn't been— If anything, you asked him if he wanted it fixed.
"I can see a couple of tears here, Simon. I can patch it up if you like."
It was so deliciously domiciliary that he counted each stitch of his mended mask with his thumb as he touched himself that night.
And then, through the thin walls of the home, he suddenly heard your dulcet moans. He quickly got up and put his skills to use— silently crossing the living room and leaning against the wall closest to your bedroom door.
The bed repeatedly creaked and every choked moan that left you, Simon heard clearly. He hastily took out his achingly hard cock, spit on his palm, and stroked himself to the rhythm of the slapping of skin. Squeezing his eyes shut, he fucked himself to the thought of him being the one in there with you.
He has no doubt that you'd feel heavenly. Your slick cunt swallowing his turgid length, walls almost painfully tight around him. You'd beg for him to hammer into you, relentlessly, mercilessly. You'd tell him to bite the crook of your shoulder once you were about to come around his cock, and when he actually hears you reach your peak, he rhythmically tightens and loosens his grip, imitating your fluttering walls. His toes are curling inside his socks, he's so bloody close—
And then Simon hears your lascivious voice murmur, "Come in me."
He bites his lip so hard it splits under the pressure as he comes. Tiny, hushed whimpers seeped from behind his mouth, as hot cum spilled onto his fingers, and trickled onto the floor.
The only noise Simon can hear now is his own shaky breath— the fun's over on both sides, it seems. He looks down, gives his softening cock one more stroke, wringing out the last of his seed, before tucking himself away, and sluggishly wiping his mess off the floor with his foot.
He quietly moves, heading back to his room, when he spots your laundry basket in the utility room.
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Simon has never believed in luck until now when he's sniffing your knickers in the privacy of the guest room, and he realizes they've been worn. And by how strong the smell of you is, they've been used very recently. He felt like he won the goddamn lottery.
Wrapping it around his cock, he touches himself. Again. And when he comes, he makes sure to spurt his cum directly onto the gusset of the undergarment.
Come morning, when they're all stiff and crusted, he laments that he didn't lick them first, in a pitiful bid to experience a taste of you, before stowing them into a secret compartment in his bag. He makes a mental note to remember to do just that when he takes another pair.
Simon wordlessly makes a cup of tea later, hissing as the hot liquid comes in contact with the small wound on his lip, when Johnny approaches him.
"Mornin' LT."
A grunt is his only reply.
Johnny then shoots him a sly grin.
"Last night, ye weren't as wheesht, as quiet, as ye thought. But dinnae worry, Bonnie doesn't ken a thing."
He claps a hand on Simon's petrified shoulders. "If ye wanted a slice of the cake, ye could've just asked. I dinnae mind sharin'."
Simon gives him a borderline-demented look, puts his tea down on the counter, and clears his throat.
"When?"
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flowersforbucky · 6 months ago
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it's nice to have a friend
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bucky barnes x reader
word count: 3.2k
summary: you're having the worst period you've had in a long time. bucky is determined to help you feel better.
author's note: this is a silly and smutty piece that i felt compelled to write when i got my period a few days ago!
warnings/tags: smutty, reader has a period, langauge, use of a vibrator, nipple stimulation, no use of y/n, use of a cbd gummy lol, 18+ only
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Approximately every twenty-eight days, you curse the fact that you were born with a uterus and vagina. 
This month, however, you were cursing that fact a bit earlier than expected. Cycle day twenty three, to be exact. 
Your periods never start this early, but as soon as you opened your eyes at six o'clock this morning, you knew what had occured while you were asleep. You could feel the moisture that soaked through your underwear and pajama pants before you could turn on the light to see that your white sheets had been dyed bright crimson beneath where you'd been laying. 
One load of laundry with extra stain remover and as much Pamprin max strength as one can safely take later, you are curled up on the couch of the compound's living room with a cup of coffee and a heating pad turned up so high that you risk first degree burns. 
“Are you sure you don't want me to stay with you today? We can go to Coney Island another time,” Natasha tries to reason with you once again. 
“I promise I'll be okay here,” you assure her. “These cramps are killing me, I won't be any fun to hang out with today. Go, enjoy yourself. When is the next time that you'll all have a free day and weather this perfect?” You gesture towards the sunshine streaming through the living room windows. 
“If you're sure,” she caves after a few moments of hesitation. “Promise I’ll win you that stuffed panda that you wanted so badly last time.” 
“I am going to hold you to that,” you tell her in a faux-serious tone. 
After Natasha and the rest of your friends have left for their day of riding rollercoasters and eating hotdogs on the boardwalk, you turn on your comfort show and settle in for an unexciting and uncomfortable day by yourself. 
A few hours later, you decide you've sat in the same position for long enough - you can practically feel your body morphing to the sofa. You're walking to the kitchen to refill your water bottle and find something to snack on when you collide with what feels like a brick wall. 
A brick wall that happens to smell really, really fucking good. 
You step back, finding that the brick wall is staring at you with a confused look on his face. 
"What are you doing here?” Bucky asks as he glances you over from head to toe, taking in your choice of apparel - baggy sweats that are about two sizes too big for you, a cropped tank, and fuzzy slippers. You resist the urge to cross your arms over your stomach - you didn't think anyone else would be here today and the tank top you're wearing doesn't exactly conceal the period bloat you're currently experiencing. 
"I live here,” you snap, a bit harsher than necessary. “What are you doing here?” 
“I also live here,” he says, returning your attitude. You roll your eyes, maneuvering your way around where he blocks the doorway. 
“What I mean,” he continues as he turns around, following you into the kitchen. “Is why aren't you with everyone at Coney Island?” 
“I could ask you the same question,” you challenge, pouring some more ice into your cup. “Steve never shuts up about the glory days, all the time the two of you spent at Coney Island. I'm surprised you're not there with him right now.” 
He huffs a laugh, pulling out one of the barstools at the kitchen's giant island and taking a seat. “We did spend a ridiculous amount of time at Coney Island,” he admits, his voice almost wistful. He hesitates before continuing, staring down at his hands as he traces a metal crevice on his left palm.
"But I haven't been to Coney Island since the forties. Guess I'm kinda scared it won't live up to my memories of it. Plus, I had a lot of laundry to catch up on, so..” he shrugs, trailing off. 
You're taken aback by the honesty of his explanation. “Yeah, well,” you start awkwardly, turning away from him to search through a cabinet for something to eat. “I can't say that I know what it was like in the forties, but it's one of my favorite places, present day.” 
“Then why are you hanging out by yourself while all of your friends are at one of your favorite places?” 
Damn it, you curse internally. He's really not going to drop this. What should I say, that my uterine lining is falling out in clumps? 
You grab a bag of freeze-dried fruit from the cabinet before turning back to face him, trying to come up with an excuse. 
“I just didn't sleep great–” you come to an abrupt stop in the middle of your sentence as a blinding pain shoots through your lower abdomen. The bag of fruit falls to the floor as you steady yourself on the ledge of the counter with one hand, clutching your stomach with the other. 
Bucky rises from his seat in an instant, closing the several feet of distance between the two of you in one big step. 
"Are you okay? What’s going on?” His hands are both extended to you in an offer of help. 
“I'm fine,” you say through a sharp intake of breath. “It’s.. it’s just cramps. Bad cramps,” you force the words out, propping your elbows up on the countertop to relax your body weight. 
“Oh,” he says as realization dawns on him. He bends down to grab the bag of fruit that lays next to your feet, and then places it on the table in front of you. “I guess that answers my question, then,” he adds, referring to why you didn't go to Coney Island. 
“Ya think?” You stand back upright, grabbing your snack and water bottle off of the counter. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have a busy day of bed-rotting ahead of me.” 
“Some exercise would help,” he calls when you're about to exit the kitchen. “Laying in bed won't do much for you. A little bit of light exercise to release some beta-endorphins, maybe an abdominal massage–” 
“Are you really man-splaining menstrual cycle pain management to me right now?” You ask, slowly turning to face him with an incredulous look on your face. “I wasn't aware that you had a medical license or that I asked for your opinion.” 
“Just trying to help, sweetheart,” he shrugs with a mischievous grin. 
“If you want to help, you can go get the Italian food that I'm craving and give me an abdominal massage yourself,” you practically spit at him. “Otherwise, keep the unsolicited advice to yourself and fuck off.” 
You turn back around and all but run out of the room before you can process the shocked, albeit pleased look on his face.  
After you've closed your bedroom door behind you (with perhaps a bit more force than necessary), you sink into the fresh sheets on your bed and shove several pieces of apricot into your mouth. 
Rationally, you knew that Bucky's advice was solid, and that he was just trying to get a reaction out of you. That's just the kind of friendship that the two of you have. Sarcastic, teasing and occasionally… tension-filled. 
You definitely didn't help the matter by telling him to massage your abdomen, but what does he expect when he suggests something as horrible as exercising during a time that you simply want nothing more than to melt into your mattress? 
Your cell phone chimes from the pocket of your sweatpants. You dig it out and look at the text displayed across your lock screen. 
Bucky Barnes: What kind of Italian food, specifically? 
You would never admit it to him, but the corners of your mouth tug upwards into a smirk as you read his message. 
You type: Don't you have a lot of laundry to catch up on? and press send. The message is marked as “read” right away. 
He types. And types. And types some more – until those three dots indicating a message in progress disappear. 
Whatever. You click your phone off and toss it somewhere in the covers around you. 
The next couple hours are spent sitting under the near scalding stream of your shower, and then reading on your Kindle in the dark. As jealous as you are that your friends are undoubtedly having a blast today, you honestly don't mind your current situation - aside from feeling like your organs are being pulled out of your vagina, you hardly ever have days with zero obligations other than to just relax in whatever way you see fit. 
A strong knock on your door causes you to lose your place on the page. 
"You didn't give me a legitimate answer so I hope you like gnocchi, or eggplant parmesan, or traditional lasagna, or extra breadsticks..” 
“You know, it's not funny to joke about carbs to someone when they are–” 
You come to a stop in the middle of your sentence when you swing your door open to see him holding several plastic bags. An aroma of garlic and herbs hits you in the face. 
Oh. Not a joke, then. 
He extends one of the bags to you with his big, blue puppy dog eyes. You take it from him, opening the door further as an invitation to enter your bedroom. 
"Consider this a peace offering,” he says, placing the other bags of food on your bed and perching awkwardly on the edge of your mattress. You close the door behind you, walking back to where you had previously been lounging on the bed. 
“I'm sorry for being a smartass,” he adds more genuinely. “I just.. didn't like seeing you in pain. That's all.” 
“This is far from my first period,” you shrug, not meeting his stare. “You get used to it after a while. But consider yourself forgiven.” 
He gives you a small smile when you finally look up at him. He grabs a smaller bag that you hadn't noticed him carrying, one that is visibly less full than the others. He reaches inside, pulling out a small jar that he hands over to you. 
Your brows furrow as you inspect it closely. “CBD gummies?” You ask, your brows now raising quizzically. You open the jar, popping one of the pink, cube-shaped gummies into your mouth. “Watermelon flavored CBD gummies?” 
You notice the faintest trace of blush bloom across his cheeks. “I take them sometimes to help me sleep,” he starts, fiddling with some of the beading on your comforter. “But they can help with all different kinds of pain too, so I just thought you might like some.” 
You close the jar, placing it on your bedside table before reaching over and grabbing his flesh hand in yours. “Thank you, Bucky,” you say, giving his hand a squeeze and then releasing it. “Really. I appreciate all of this.” You try to ignore the jolt of electricity that buzzes through you when your skin comes in contact with his. His hand is both softer and warmer than you would have imagined. It brings you back to the last words that you spewed at him in the kitchen earlier. 
"A shit ton of pasta and CBD gummies,” you snort a laugh. “Would I be pushing my luck if I asked for that abdominal massage too?” You say it in a way that sounds halfway serious, halfway joking. 
“If that's what you want,” he says lowly, turning to angle his body towards you on the bed. “Then just say the word.” 
The air in your room suddenly feels suffocating. 
It is what you want - but you're at a loss for words. So instead of a verbal response, you scoot over to the middle of the bed, closer to where he sits on the opposite side. You lay down so that your back is flat against the mattress, your head propped up by a single pillow. 
Bucky's eyes widen in surprise, but he quickly wipes the look of astonishment from his features. He moves so that he's sitting directly next to your legs, giving him a proper angle to put his hands on your lower stomach. 
You're wearing the same sweatpants and tank top from earlier, having thrown the outfit back on after your shower. The loose sweatpants hang low enough to expose your hip bones and the edge of your underwear. 
The intimacy of the entire situation hits you the second that his hands make contact with your skin. 
“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he murmurs, perhaps sensing your nerves. “Or if I do anything that doesn't feel good.” 
Your eyes shut instinctively at the polar opposite sensations of his flesh and vibranium hands. Skin and metal, fire and ice.
“I will,” you assure him. Your words come out breathier than intended. 
There's an immediate relief in your lower stomach as he rubs languid circles across your midriff. It's a feeling beyond pleasure as the cramps fade the more he touches you. 
His vibranium pinky dances along the waistband of your underwear, causing goosebumps to spread across your skin. You try to focus on the relief he's bringing you - not the fact that you're wearing a thin tank top that leaves so much of your skin on display, giving him a clear view of the goosebumps that he's caused. 
He continues with the precise motions until the pain in your abdomen has faded nearly entirely - you feel so good that you can't stop yourself from letting out the smallest moan when his flesh hand applies just the right amount of pressure near your pelvis. 
You know he heard it - there's no way he didn't. Just as you know there's no way that he doesn't notice your fully hardened nipples through the thin fabric of your tank top. 
You keep your eyes closed, terrified to meet his gaze in this state. You dread the moment that you feel his hands pull away from your skin. 
"You know,” he starts, his voice possessing a strained edge. “I don't think this is good enough for you.” 
Your eyes shoot open, looking at him in a nervous confusion. There's a glimmer in his eyes that you can't quite pinpoint - his stare trailing to your bedside table on the opposite side of you. “But I think I do know what could make you feel much better.” 
“What are you talking about?” Your voice quivers as you follow his stare. You're not sure what he's looking at - all that sits on your nightstand is the CBD gummies he had just given you, your Kindle, a few books, a bottle of lotion, and the Himalayan salt lamp that paints you both in an orange glow. 
He smirks before leaning across you - keeping his vibranium hand pressed firmly on your belly as he uses his flesh hand to pull open the drawer of the small table. 
“Hey! What are you–” but he retrieves the object he’s looking for before you can finish questioning him. You freeze at what he's holding in his hand. 
Your vibrator. Your glittery, lavender colored vibrator. 
“How the fuck did you–” 
“Do you think I can't hear you using this from across the hallway late at night?” He grins smugly. “That I can't hear your little whimpers when you think everyone's asleep?” 
Your face heats up a hundred degrees. You don't know whether to be infuriated or massively turned on. 
Both. You're definitely feeling a mix of both. 
He clicks the power button, turning on the device to its lowest setting. He watches you for a moment, giving you ample time to tell him to fuck off.
Instead, you once again relax against the pillow, your body going limp for him. You spread your legs the slightest bit. 
He takes this as his signal to proceed. Not taking his eyes off of your face, he trails the head of the wand from your lower stomach and over the fabric of your sweatpants until he reaches the apex of your thighs. Your nipples pucker once again, your thighs clenching around the tip of the vibrator. 
Bucky moves the device in a circular motion, making your back arch off the bed and your head tip back. 
How is it that it feels better when he massages you with it through your fucking pants than it does when you use it on your bare pussy? 
You hear the clicking of a button again, and the force of the vibration over your clothed cunt increases. You grind down on the device, desperate for friction. 
Bucky watches you with something akin to pride on his face. 
“You know how I told you to tell me if I do something you don't like?” He asks as he pushes the head of the wand directly down on your clit with the perfect amount of pressure. 
“Yeah,” you answer - it comes out like a moan that you'd hear in a porno.
“Good girl,” he praises. “Remember that.” 
Before you can clear your head enough to wonder what he means, he's tugging up the cotton fabric of your tank top and exposing your breasts. 
You gasp at the sensation of the cool air blowing from the AC coming in contact with your already hard nipples. Bucky leans forward, keeping the vibrator on your core, and captures one of your nipples in his mouth. 
Your hand immediately goes to his hair, tugging the soft brown locks in your fingers to keep him in place. His free hand grasps your other breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers. 
The combination of pleasure radiating from your pussy and his hand and mouth on you is fucking perfect. Fucking perfect, and all too much. 
You clench your thighs together, riding against the vibrator until you feel warmth spreading through your lower belly. 
“Oh my god, Bucky,” you moan - he groans when you say his name, the vibration sending you tumbling over the edge. You come hard, possibly harder than any other orgasm you've had in your life, thoroughly soaking your panties. 
When you've finished writhing beneath him, Bucky pulls back, removing both his mouth and the vibrator. He clicks the device off, tossing it towards the foot of your bed. 
You're panting, staring up at the ceiling, trying to process what the fuck just happened when you hear Bucky let out a low chuckle. 
Your eyes snap to him, finding that he looks thoroughly pleased with himself. 
"Can't say that's how I expected the day to go when I decided to sit this Coney Island trip out,” he sighs. 
“You can say that again.” You sit upright, bending your legs and crossing them at the ankles. You lean forward, tugging your shirt back into place before pulling one of the bags of food to you. 
"We should go sometime soon. Together,” you add, somewhat nervously. You aren't sure why - the guy just gave you the best orgasm of your life (and barely even touched you). 
“Are you asking me on a date?” that sly smile reappears. 
You shrug. “Yeah, I suppose I am.” 
"Then my answer is yes. But only if you share some of this food with me.” 
♡♡♡♡♡
my masterlist
thanks so much for reading!!! can anyone tell that i really fucking love food by how often i incorporate it into my writing? 😅
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ddejavvu · 4 months ago
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mean!logan noticing you’re obsessed with his biceps so he makes you use them to get off one day >:)))
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Greed - Logan Howlett x Reader
send me mean!logan requests!
contents/warnings: mean!logan, degradation, arm/bicep fucking, strength/power imbalance, don't like don't read
thank you to @hanasnx for helping me workshop some possible positions, even if mine differs slightly from indy's 2 examples i had to consult the arm kink professional for guidance
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"'Wish you'd speak up for yourself," Logan grunts one day, voice free of criticism but scrutinizing all the same, "Would be a hell of a lot easier to get you off."
"What?" You blink bewilderedly at him, watching as he slings a wife beater over his head, the white fabric barely stretching to cover his broad chest.
"Every time I flex my arms in front of you, you get all crazy. You never say it," Logan stands at the foot of the bed, watching as you squirm, "But I always smell it."
"Your arms are nice." You supply weakly, throat suddenly dry and hollow, "I like them."
"I know." Logan laughs, a huff that's not mean but might as well be for the way it mortifies you, "Like I said, I can tell. But you never say anything, honey. Why's that?"
You detest the way his attention is fixated solely on you. It makes you writhe in your seat, it makes an ache throb between your legs while your brain desperately grasps at straws to figure out what to say.
"I dunno," Is the brilliant response you land on, and his chest rocks with a silent scoff.
"I know why," He prods, crossing his arms. The arms that you can't stop thinking about. "You think talking about what you like is dirty, and you think you're oh-so-pure. But I can smell you- you smell filthy. You're no saint. I've had you choking on my cock before, you're not fooling me. So what do you want?"
Your eyes fall to his arms without any thought behind the motion. He notices, of course, because he's studying you for any miniscule reaction.
"That's not enough." Logan growls, frustration tinging his gruff voice, and you're sure he's smelling the growing arousal between your thighs, "I said tell me."
"I- I want..." You falter, the words on the tip of your tongue but more raunchy than you'd ever be brave enough to voice.
"If you can't ask for it, you're not getting it." Logan decides, the muscles in his biceps flexing as he tightens the way they're crossed against his chest.
You consider abandoning ship. Seceding into silence, and letting Logan down as well as yourself. Taking the safe route.
But you're throbbing. You're aching, Logan's scrutiny combined with the look of his flexed arms is sending you into overdrive, and there's a steady heartbeat between your thighs that's begging for attention. It works the same way booze does, emboldening you, and you blurt out with courage never-before-seen, "I want to ride your arms."
He looks half impressed that you'd said anything at all, and half stunned that you'd said that much, that plainly.
His brows raise, bushy and angled to create a perfect arch.
"Wow. Pretty nasty stuff." He muses, faux-considerate as if he hadn't demanded a voice from you. Still, he doesn't move- so why had he asked?
You shift gently in your seat, but his eyes track your every move like a hunter.
"Well," He lingers in place, arms still crossed, the perfect eye-candy for you, "You gonna say please, or what?"
"Please," You blurt with burning cheeks, and he snickers at your eagerness.
"See? You're not so sweet." He advances, arms coming uncrossed to brace his weight on the bed, meaning thick cords of muscle strain against the confines of his skin, showcased as he crawls towards you, "You couldn't even remember to say please, just demanded to get off on me like I'm some toy."
"Logan, that's not-"
"Inconsiderate." He decides, eyes on your body instead of your face as he scans over your thinly-clad chest, "You're only in it for the sex, aren't you, you little minx?"
"Stop." You plead, feeling as dirty as his words imply. You're not- Logan is the love of your life, but you won't pretend you hate sex with him. But he's making you feel so dirty, like a fiend who wants nothing but his dick.
His hand trails between your thighs but it's different this time, and his fingers toy with your clit only as a prerequisite. You let him open you up, you let his fingers ease your muscles looser as his mouth eases your own loose. His tongue dips inside and licks you into submission, your brain activity lowering the more he kisses you. He soon snakes his arm between your legs, offering you up your real prize: the thick, muscular width of his bicep.
It's an awkward angle, you won't lie. But squeezing your thighs around his arm presses delicious friction against your clit, and the rocking of your hips is an instinct more than it is a thought-out motion.
Logan rests on his stomach on the bed, his arm stretched out in front of him to provide your seat. It means he has to crane upwards to see you, and you thank his supernatural strength for the way that he doesn't break a sweat as you rub yourself wantonly on his arm. His face is not exactly at your own level, which means you can't kiss him silly like you want to. But craning his neck upwards means that his face lands between your tits, and you feel the rough burn of his scruff against your skin as he nestles into your warm skin.
Logan is, perhaps, the ideal individual to suit your cravings for arm muscles. Not only does he have the perfect build, but his increased strength means that he's able to bare his bicep for you to get off on, even lifting it off of the bed to offer you increased friction. Perhaps a normal man would tire in seconds, but Logan- Logan could hold on longer than you.
Grinding against the plentiful mass of muscle in his bicep means that you're rutting up against him, and you have to spread your legs as far apart as possible to ensure that your cunt is met with the already-slickened surface of Logan's bare arm. You're making a mess despite still being in your pajamas, because the shorts you'd been sleeping in offer very little fabric to defend Logan's skin from your copious arousal.
Logan nips at a spot on your left breast, humming gruffly into your chest as you gasp slightly at the intrusion. It breaks your concentration and you have to grip harder at the sheets to fall back into your laborious rhythm.
"Not easy, hm? You've gotta work for it," Logan grunts, mouth moving against your chest as he takes a nipple into his mouth, "Nasty girl, 's a real workout to fuck this dirty, isn't it?"
"Logan, I- I'm not dirty," You whimper, tears beading in your eyes at his gruff accusations, "I'm not."
His laugh is more of a bark than anything, and he ducks his head away from your chest to point with his chin at the mess you're making on his arm.
"That's not dirty? You're dripping- you're making a real mess'a my arm, sweetheart. Dirty little cunt's drooling all over me."
The image of your slick coating Logan's arm, glistening against his muscles throws your pleasure into overdrive. Your orgasm rapidly approaches, the memory of his fingers inside of you only minutes before making up completely for the lack of penetration you get from his bicep. You squeeze your thighs even tighter around Logan's arm, pinning it to your cunt with an almost painful force as you hump against it desperately.
"You're fucking filthy." Logan hisses against your tits, taking one in between his teeth and biting, hard, "Humping my arm like a damn dog. Feel good, honey? Feel how strong I am?"
He flexes harder, tenses his muscles just that much more, and you feel them stiffen impossibly harder beneath your pussy. It's that and the way he mouths at your tits, growling such indecent accusations into their flushed warmth that sends you over the edge, a feeble cry escaping your lips as your hips begin trembling, twitching as you grind against his arm impossibly faster to fulfil your orgasm.
You're sure the bedsheets have suffered your release as much as Logan's arm has, but he's never seriously chided you for making a mess, and you're sure he won't this time. He groans himself as you ride through your orgasm on his arm and you realize only now as you come down from your high that he's been rutting against the mattress, cock still trapped in the confines of his sweatpants. If he hasn't managed to get off on the mattress you'll help him now, granting him access to all the slick warmth that his arm provided.
Now the pressure of his bicep is overstimulating as it presses constantly against your cunt and you ease off of it, giving Logan a prime view of your ruined, sensitive cunt as you whine at the sensitivity.
"Impressive," He hums, "Never thought I'd have you rubbing all over my arm like that."
"It's really strong. You're- you're really strong, Logan, it's nice."
"Yeah?" He grins, more of a smirk perhaps, as something sharp invades his eyes, "All that muscle gets you going? Knowing I'm stronger than you?"
"You are," Your breath shudders as you let it out, and he pushes up on his arms, one still covered in your slick release. He seems suddenly intent on showcasing that strength difference, muscles bulging as he crawls across the mattress to slot himself on top of your fucked-out form.
"I am." He agrees, mouth pressing hungrily to yours as the same arm you'd just got off on curls around your back and cements you to him, his hips already rutting against your own, "Wanna find out how much stronger I am?"
"Yes. Logan, yes, I-" He seizes your mouth in another kiss, cutting off your desperate pleas.
"Fucking try to move." He grunts, almost a growl with how guttural and gruff it sounds against the hollow of your parted lips as his other hand holds your hip firmly, almost crushingly in place, "I'll pin you down 'n hold you still, greedy girl."
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